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whatavery · 6 months

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Wanderlust Chapter 2

Second part of my fanfiction featuring the Lackadaisy houseband, this time introducing everyone's favorite pianist, Mozzie Alonzo.

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Dark green eyes surveyed the area around the cafe, watching people moving to and fro in their morning commute. Glancing down at his tea, Mozzie stirred some sugar into it, before raising the cup to his lips. It was a dreary sort of day, not because of the weather, which was very bright and sunny, still warm enough for Mozzie to have breakfast outside. No, it was Mozzie’s own mood. Not that he wasn’t happy with what he did these days, but it was the impending end of summer that had Mozzie worried. A new semester meant classes would pick back up, leaving less time for… anything else.

As he finished his breakfast, Mozzie's thoughts wandered back to simpler times; learning to play the piano as a small child with encouragement from his parents. The Alonzos wanted their son to grow up and be enriched, cultured. Learning an instrument, especially one as classy as piano, ought to do that trick. Mozzie hadn’t enjoyed it at first – as with most things in life, it didn’t start to become fun until he’d gotten good at it.

When he entered his teens, he could read notes and play most new songs on the fly. During high school, Mozzie got to perform in concert halls as part of an orchestra – he got to play a solo performance a few times too. Along with other young musicians Mozzie had had the pleasure of showing his stuff on stage.

But that was then.

Now school was ending and Mozzie was off to the world of adulthood and his father’s business. At the very least, he’d enjoyed his summer playing in bars and cafes. He had a week of it left to enjoy, before nepotism would rip that bit of enjoyment away from him. Well, not counting tonight. His father was dragging him along to some gala hosted by… Honestly, Mozzie couldn’t be bothered to remember every associate his father had. At this point, they all sort of flowed together in Mozzie’s head, he couldn’t put faces on all of their names until he saw them again. They were all just some other man owning a different business, and doing business with Mr. Alonzo’s construction company was all they cared about.

It would be yet another stuffy event with surface-level smalltalk, if even that.

Mozzie was already in a bit of hot water with both his parents, who wanted him to take the pursuit of his father’s business seriously. Sipping from his tea, Mozzie’s ears laid back against his head in annoyance, as he thought of the many times he’d already tried to convince his parents that what he was doing now was what he wanted – to play music for a living. It seemed a lot less grim than being in charged of a small army of underpaid and overworked construction workers…

It was rich, Mozzie thought to himself. They insisted that he learn to play the piano, but actually making a career out of it? Apparently that was too far. Mozzie didn’t see the issue; he’d proven himself several times, be it to impress the guests they had over (The very same guests they only invited for the purpose of getting them into a business arrangement) or in concert halls – both solo and as part of an orchestra.

Behind their backs, Mozzie had attempted to look for a higher paying job than playing for bars and lounges. Not that he didn’t love it, but he thought that if he could land something more grand and prestigious, maybe that would finally convince them.

But maybe he was being too optimistic. After all, being headstrong and stubborn seemed to run in the family. At least that’s where he assumed he got it from.

Mozzie had both applied for jobs with theaters and tried to get accepted into actual orchestras. He was classically trained, but what held him back more than anything was his young age. Being just seventeen years old didn’t seem to particularly sit right with anyone who read his resumé or sat through his interviews when it came to big, proper orchestras.

He scoffed at the thought. If they wanted to hire some old decrepit bat over him, perhaps it wasn’t worth his time anyway. No one had complained about his age when he got jobs in the lounges and bars he’d played in so far. Not that those jobs were particularly comparable.

Pulling out a shiny pocket watch, Mozzie checked the time. It was still early, he had at least six more hours to himself. Six hours…

After paying for his breakfast and tea, Mozzie got up and walked back to the car that waited for him – a nice, black Pierce-Arrow 66. As Mozzie got into it, it did draw quite a few curious glances as a cat of just seventeen got into such an expensive car.

“Where to, Mr. Alonzo?” the gray tabby in the driver’s seat asked. Mozzie didn’t answer right away. He didn’t have too many options to do things he actually wanted to do.

“Just take me home, Walt… Please,” he told the driver. Mozzie glanced out the window as the car started moving. All those people in the streets… were they happy? Were they doing things that made them happy? How many of them were just doing what they had to survive or what they’d been told by others they should be doing?

“So, big night tonight, sir…” Walt said from the front seat. Mozzie’s left ear gave an annoyed twitch. The chauffeur's tone was polite, albeit cautiously so. Walt had driven Mozzie to and fro for stuff for almost ten years now. He knew how little he enjoyed being dragged to his parents’ obligations and events, which had only become more frequent now that he had come of age. “Are you bringing young Ms. Callaghan to-”

“No,” Mozzie replied immediately, his tone flat. He irritably adjusted his bow tie. He didn’t mind conversing with Walt, but he didn’t like talking about this stuff in particular. His parents had tried to coax (bordering on force) him to strike up a relationship with Caroline Callaghan, a daughter of some wealthy factory owner. It wasn’t natural. It was like a big charade for Mozzie, no different than two children playing house together, although in this case their parents were creepily keeping an eye on them. “I’ll be going alone tonight.”

Mozzie caught a glimpse of his chauffeur’s face in the reflection of the windshield. He didn’t exactly look like he envied Mozzie. If anything, he looked like he pitied him. “So, how’s the missus, Walt?”

The tabby in front was surprised by Mozzie’s question, but his face did break into a smile – from the backseat, Mozzie could see it tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, she’s doing quite well. We’ll have our little one with us soon.”

“Ah, settled on any names yet?” Being with someone you liked had to be nice. The best Mozzie could do was imagine what that might be like. His mood was already improving just from talking to Walt. He’d always liked the family’s driver, although these days he mostly acted as Mozzie’s personal driver when his father was working.

Smalltalk about Walt’s family might not seem particularly enthralling to most, but to Mozzie it was interesting, like a glimpse into what could’ve been. He couldn’t quite relate to what Walt’s life had to be like. Being a driver seemed like such a simple occupation, but Mozzie couldn’t imagine it was as dull as what he had to deal with tonight. But it was nice to have someone to talk to regularly, someone who didn’t only care about Mozzie’s future. Even his peers had always seemed like miniature adults, even when they were much younger. They were so set in their parents’ ways…

The Alonzo family home was located just outside Pittsburgh where greenery stretched all around. The well-maintained lawn around the big manor had seen its fair share of social gatherings since before Mozzie could walk by himself. He hated their manor. It was big, uninviting and over-designed in Mozzie’s opinion. It had three stories plus a cellar. It wasn’t one of those big, old American manors, it was a recently constructed building – relatively speaking – that his father had purchased shortly before marrying his mother.

The upper floors were mainly for Mozzie. There was his bedroom, overlooking the driveway that he was now being driven into and then there was the study where his grand piano was. His piano was one of the few things he’d picked out for himself. It was big, beautiful and expensive. He’d gotten it years ago, back when he still thought that he’d be allowed to pursue music as a career.

“Alright, thank you, Walt. I’ll see you tonight,” Mozzie said in a very unenthusiastic tone, knowing what tonight would bring. The driver did bid him goodbye as he made his way towards the manor. The front door had several stone steps leading up to it, each one feeling like a great endeavor to Mozzie.

Pushing the door open and stepping inside, Mozzie immediately hurried upstairs. The less time he spent out in the open the better. He didn’t feel like being reprimanded about work by his mother, who’d never worked a day in her life.

Mozzie ascended the stairs, making a conscious effort to not look at the pictures framed on the walls. Most were of his parents and their ancestry, but a few were of him as a young boy, back when he still had some hope and optimism for his adult life.

Entering the study he loved so much, Mozzie locked the door right away. It had a desk for him, shelves of books that held not just volumes he’d inherited from his grandfathers, but also song books he’d practiced with. He knew most of them inside and out by now. He made his way to the piano, his true love. If it came down to saving just one thing in a fire… well, he couldn’t exactly carry a piano, but he’d sure as hell try.

Mozzie let his soft, dainty fingers brush the cool ivory keys, before he sat down. He sighed and decided to just practice a bit. As his quick fingers set to work, Mozzie closed his eyes, playing one of the pieces he’d learned so long ago. He barely even had to think about the keys, his muscle memory allowing him to play most of the song with his eyes closed. The bright piano tunes filled the study, not an unfamiliar sound in the Alonzo household.

Mozzie opened his eyes and watched the hammers rather than the keys as he slowed down, transitioning into an old-world folk tune. It was arguably far more simplistic, but that didn’t matter to him. It was a soothing song to him, one he’d always come to associate with late summer and early autumn. He played it at double tempo as well.

“Mozzie?” Mozzie felt his heart sink as he stopped playing. Of course, he knew it wouldn’t be long…

“Yes, mother?” he asked as he heard her trying to open the door. He resumed playing a little lullaby tune with the high keys, using just one hand.

“If you’re taking Caroline tonight, may I suggest something?” It was more of a statement and less of an actual question and Mozzie already knew it. He didn’t answer and just looked down at his fingers as he played. His tail gave an annoyed swish behind him. “You should-”

“Well, I’m not taking her, mother.” His tone was a bit harsher than he meant for it to be. The silence that followed was foreboding and he knew he was in for it now. “I’d rather just be there by myself for once. I don’t need-”

“Mozzie! You said you’d be taking her! Did you even ask her to come with you or was that a lie?” His mother’s shrill, angry voice made his ears twitch and his face burn under his fur. He tried to just focus on playing, repeating the notes in his head like he had when he was younger. He heard the door rattling again. “Open this door right now, young man!”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Mozzie lied through his teeth. E… C… B-minor… “I don’t like her – at all.”

“It’s not about that! You can’t keep doing this, Mozzie! Haven’t we always done right by you? Why can’t you do the same?” At this, Mozzie slammed his hand down on the keys and stood up. He considered opening the door and giving his mother a piece of his mind… but he also knew that it wouldn’t do anything.

“Encouraging me to get some girl to hang onto my arm like a leech is doing right by me?” he shouted angrily. He could feel his blood starting to boil by now. “What’s even the point if I don’t like her? It’s not like I’m going to marry her just because you and father-”

“Of course not – marrying her would be good for you, why would you do that?” his mother chimed sarcastically through the door. She tried the door again. “Mozzie Alonzo, I’m having Walt take you into town and you’re calling Caroline... and you’re taking her to the gala tonight! It’s not about what you want to do, it’s about what you need to do!”

“What the hell would you know about that? All you ever wanted was to marry some rich man and spend the rest of your life being taken care of and you got that!” Mozzie knew he’d gone too far now and the flurry of harsh words that came his way weren’t a surprise. That didn’t mean they didn’t hurt, hearing his mother swearing at him…

Mozzie did his best to shut her out, trying to retreat into himself, but each word echoed through his mind. She knew where it hurt. When Mozzie sat down at the piano again and began to play loudly, it only seemed to anger her more.

“Mozzie, stop playing and open the door! You can’t just run from your responsibilities and waste away at the piano for the rest of your life!” she nearly screamed at him. At this, Mozzie immediately stopped and stood up.

He moved to the door, unlocked it and flung it open, glaring at his mother as he nearly roared at her, “And what if it’s what I want? Have you and father ever even tried to consider what anyone besides yourselve-”

The slap came swiftly and although it wasn’t particularly hard, it still stung in ways that weren’t just physical. He stared at her, their dark green eyes locked as she glared at him. She had tears in hers. Mozzie had taken after his mother quite a bit, from his eyes to his facial features. But in this moment, he had never felt more disconnected from her in his life.

“You’re going into town and you’re calling Caroline before tonight, if you want to be a part of this family and that is final.” His mother was speaking with a forced calm tone, her voice shaky. And without another word, she turned and left.

Frozen in the door frame, Mozzie stood there in silence for a few seconds, before he retreated and slammed the door to his study shut, the sound echoing throughout the manor. Making his way back to the piano, Mozzie slumped forward, his arms hitting the keys with a dissonant clunk as he rested his face on his arms. He soundlessly wept into his sleeves as the horrid chord played out, till he was left in complete silence.

***

“Walt… turn right here, please.” Mozzie had a steely look on his face as the car left the bank. The chauffeur’s ears perked up curiously, but he didn’t immediately ask why. Mozzie had dressed casually, a pair of gray pants, a brown jacket over his dress shirt. Not at all like he was going to a fine gala.

“The Callaghan residence is-”

“I know. We’re not going there.” Mozzie’s eyes were slightly red, but he wasn’t going to look back again. In the backseat of the car, he had a suitcase with him and a satchel. He’d had it smuggled into the car before he’d left home. He’d insisted on being driven by Walter to arrive a bit later. His father was none the wiser to what had gone down earlier, but he knew his mother foolishly thought it was to pick up his date for the evening.

“The gala is starting soon, you’ll be late if this’ll be a long detour, Mr. Alonzo,” Walt reminded him, but Mozzie didn’t respond. The driver seemed to realize that Mozzie didn’t care about showing up at time or really at all. In a softer tone, he asked, “Well, where will you have me take you?”

Mozzie adjusted his collar slightly as the harsh words he’d exchanged with his mother rang through his head again – a reminder of where he was going and why. “Take me to the station.”

A stunned silence followed, but Walt didn’t appear to be opposed. At the very least he didn’t protest or ask any questions, which was more than Mozzie could ask for. Mozzie’s grip on the satchel tightened. He’d brought all money he had saved up at home. He had more money in the bank, as he hadn’t managed to withdraw everything, but that didn’t matter to him now. He’d saved up enough to last… well, he didn’t know exactly how long, but it would have to do for now.

Eventually, Walt stopped outside Union Station and turned in his seat to look at Mozzie. “Mr. Alonzo, you’re… not going to do anything rash, are you…?”

Not responding, Mozzie simply gripped the handle of his suitcase, before he looked up, meeting the gray tabby’s yellow eyes. “I’ve actually given this a decent amount of thought. It seems rash, but this is for the best. Just tell my parents I got out of the car and walked away.” Mozzie let go of his suitcase, before he reached into his satchel and pulled out a small bundle of bills. “Here – as thanks for everything you’ve done for me, Walt.”

The driver looked quite stunned by the younger cat’s words, but he shook his head. “No, you keep ‘em, Mr. Alonzo. You’ll need it if you’re going off on your own…” Walt hesitated some, looking concerned. “Are you certain this will make you happy? It would probably leave your parents rather distressed…”

Mozzie looked out the window at the station, then gave a nod. “Yes. I’m positive. And they had it coming. But if you won’t accept my money, please do me a favor at least.”

Fixing Walt with a serious look, Mozzie put the money away. “When your son or daughter arrives, make sure he or she feels loved.” Just saying the words, Mozzie feel his throat tighten slightly. He swallowed, fighting back the feeling. “Can you do that for me?”

The chauffeur looked surprised by Mozzie’s request, but his face broke into a smile. “I can do that, Mr. Alonzo. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. You have my word.”

With a satisfied nod, Mozzie got out of the car. He hadn’t brought much besides clothes. None of his other belongings were as important, and he couldn’t exactly stick a piano on a train. Mozzie shifted his suitcase to his left hand and held his right one towards Walt. “Thank you for everything. Perhaps we’ll meet again…”

The older cat shook his hand with a sad sort of smile on his face. He nodded. “You take care of yourself, Mr. Alonzo. Where do you plan on going?”

The younger of the two gave a shrug as their hands parted. “I don’t know… westward, I think. Out of the state too, if I’m lucky… Will you be alright?”

Mozzie seemed to realize that he might land his trusty driver in a bit of trouble with what he was about to pull now. Even the alibi was very flimsy. The last thing Mozzie wanted was for Walt to end up in trouble because of him, especially when he’d always been so kind to him.

“I think so. I won’t tell anyone where you’re going, all I can say is that you left all on your own.” Walt seemed uncertain, but the reassuring smile he gave Mozzie was enough to relieve the younger cat of some of the worry and guilt. He looked up at the large station again and sighed.

“Well, here I go. You take care of your family, Walt,” Mozzie said with a smile on his face, the first smile he’d had on his face in quite some time.

Mozzie crossed the street, casting a last long look back at Walt, who waved and drove off, leaving him all alone. It was a strange sort of feeling, knowing that it was the first time in his life that he was doing something all by himself; something he wanted and something no one else had coaxed him into doing. Was this what a real life felt like? Was this what other people felt like their whole life? He slowly walked into the station, suitcase in hand, satchel over his shoulder.

Once he was seated on the train, Mozzie decided to put his satchel with money under his jacket to keep it hidden – for safety. Once the train eventually got rolling, the young cat glanced out at Pittsburgh through the window. Although he didn’t know for sure that it would be, this felt like a final goodbye. Odds were he’d never return, at least returning wasn’t currently a part of his plans. His dark green eyes watched as the city almost appeared to be pulled away from him, facing the front back of the train.

It was a strange feeling Mozzie felt as he watched the city slip away; a mixture of happiness for himself, sadness for leaving behind what he knew and excitement for what he might find.

However… as much excitement as Mozzie felt as he rode on the train, it was nothing compared to how exhilarating getting off the train felt. His foot felt strangely shaky as it made first contact with the platform hours later. It was then and there that the realization hit him; he’d made it out of Pennsylvania into Ohio – he was free.

Mozzie didn’t even care about his next course of action – all he cared about was this feeling of truly being on his own for the first time in his life. As the young, slender cat walked along the dark platform of Cambridge’s Union Station, his heart was racing with excitement. It wasn’t his first time out of state, but it was his first time being far from home all alone. Even the chilling night air couldn’t dampen his mood.

A small part of him was intimidated by the prospect, uncertainty from having to take care of himself, but at the same time, the joy Mozzie felt balanced it out. He could go anywhere he wanted; to the Great Lakes, the East Coast, hell, even Canada. No one could tell him no!

Lugging his suitcase along, Mozzie had taken to hiding his satchel of money under his jacket. Who knew what types of people he might encounter out here? Surely a young man with a sack of money would be seen as an easy target. The tall, young cat moved among the very small crowd that left behind the platform and moved out to the street beyond the depot. Several people were clearly reunited with loved ones that had waited for them.

Feeling just the smallest sting of envy, Mozzie watched as a girl around his age shared a hug with what he presumed to be her parents. To feel that sort of joy from seeing your folks… Mozzie could only imagine. But he also knew that if he returned, that was far from the welcome he’d get. Turning his green-eyed gaze away, Mozzie set his sights on the street ahead.

It was a street leading two ways, and Mozzie didn’t even know where he ought to go. His eyes were drawn to the upwards sloping side of the street. He supposed the first course of action should be to find food and somewhere to stay for the night. It was getting so late and he didn’t much fancy sleeping on the train.

His eye was next drawn to the black cars parked outside the station depot. Tall, boxy profiles with drivers waiting outside. Mozzie had seen enough taxis in his life to know that he should be able to take one of those to the nearest hotel in town. It was their business to know where to take their patrons, after all. Before he approached one, Mozzie did consider if he really should. Though he wasn’t short on money by any means, he also knew that they’d run out sooner than later. He was paying for everything out of his own pocket from now on, not his parents’ pockets. But perhaps just this once…

“Ah, good day, young mistah. Where to?” the taxi driver greeted him as he stepped closer. He was a gray tabby immediately reminded Mozzie of Walt, except he was noticeably older…

Walt…

Mozzie wondered again if he’d gotten his trusty chauffeur in trouble back home. He hoped he hadn’t, it would be a poor way to repay him for all he’d done. Feeling his heart sink for just a moment, Mozzie tried to ignore the feeling. Yeah, Walt was fine… nothing to worry about… Right?

“Uh… any nice hotels in this town?” Mozzie asked. He realized he didn’t know the first thing about Cambridge. It seemed like a fairly small town, especially compared to Pittsburgh. What if they didn’t even have hotels here? Small-towns were unfamiliar territory to Mozzie…

“Ah, you might want to check out Berwick Hotel, it’s a quaint place,” the driver said, fixing Mozzie with a curious sort of stare. Mozzie hadn’t seen that look before in his life, but it didn’t unnerve him. He looked curious, almost suspicious. Was he wondering if Mozzie had enough money on him?

“Splendid, please take me there,” Mozzie said promptly, tone and face neutral. He did sound like he was in a hurry, and perhaps he was, at least based on how readily he got into the back of the taxi. Although now that he was in another state, it wasn’t like Mozzie was at any immediate risk of being brought back to Pittsburgh. Mozzie had to wonder what his parents’ reaction had been to him not arriving. Hell, what were they going to do about it?

Though he had no basis for whether they would or not, Mozzie wouldn’t put it past his parents to attempt to find him. Maybe sending someone to get him. But they wouldn’t do anything illegal, would they? No, they didn’t have tendencies like that. But maybe he was giving them too much credit. His mother especially could be quite unhinged at times…

Mozzie leaned back in his seat and tried to calm himself. He was being rather paranoid. Mozzie supposed it was just the guilt that came from running away. But there was no reason to feel guilty, Mozzie thought to himself. The only reason he felt guilty was because of how his parents had raised him… Yeah, that had to be it. They’d never approve of what he was doing. If he ever returned home, Mozzie could guess what would be in store for him; he’d likely be flayed within an inch of his life, possibly kicked out and disowned… although the latter part didn’t sound too bad, all things considered.

Although it hadn’t felt like a particularly long train journey, spending those hours alone on the train had really left Mozzie hungry and tired. Though he wanted to put at least two state borders between himself and Pennsylvania, Mozzie had to prioritize eating and resting for now.

As he the taxi drove into town, Mozzie glanced out the window at the passing shops and buildings. Cambridge was an all-new place to him, but it was a nice, quaint little town, it seemed. Seeing as it was getting close to dinner time, there weren’t a lot of people out and about. Mozzie did spot a few restaurants on the way, which was a good sign. He’d have several dining options, if the hotel had none.

Mozzie was grateful for the silence that came with the fully closed off compartment he sat in. He could see the driver outside, watching him on occasion. He still very much reminded him of Walt…

When they arrived at Berwick Hotel, Mozzie looked up at the building. It had quite the striking facade, the building bright crimson with white accents, three white arches over the doors that led inside. Three stories tall, the second floor windows had striking white frames. Mozzie hastily paid for his ride, before bidding a good night to the driver who so reminded him of his personal chauffeur. Though the drive to the hotel hadn’t been long, the air had gotten considerably colder outside. Suitcase in hand, Mozzie ascended the stairs up to the door, gratefully stepping into the lobby and out of the cold.

“Oh, good evening, sir,” the receptionist said when he stepped up to the front desk. She was a bit older than Mozzie, probably in her mid or late twenties, a short-furred, orange tabby with quite frizzy, black hair. “Room for one?”

“Yes, please,” Mozzie said promptly. He may he homeless now, but the proper posture and tone he’d been strong-armed into using since he could walk still remained. He did hesitate to give his name when it came to properly checking in, but nevertheless, Mozzie gave them his legal name. The young cat had his reservations about it, but he figured it was for the best. Surely no one would come looking for him, right? Right, he was just being overly cautious at this point…

The receptionist called over a bellhop who appeared to be about the same age as Mozzie. He was a bit shorter, and his fur brilliant white all over and his eyes stormy gray. He was clad in a uniform, wearing a rather nice crimson jacket that matched the facade of the hotel. Besides the color, the bellhop’s uniform was rather simplistic with bright, golden buttons here and there for detail. As he carried his suitcase into the elevator, Mozzie followed, room key in hand, clutched tightly, as if afraid of dropping it.

“First time in town, sir?” Mozzie flinched when the bellhop addressed him as they went up. He glanced sideways, the other cat fixing him with a small smile. Mozzie calmed down quickly enough. He shouldn’t be this jumpy, it would look suspicious. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, I’m from out of state, Mr.…?”

“Oh, just call me Carl, Mr. Alonzo,” the bellhop said with that same cautious smile as before. Mozzie returned a polite smile, although he had a feeling his jumpiness had seemed rather off. For a brief second, Mozzie did wonder how the other knew his name, but of course, that came down to overhearing it by the counter. He needed to relax… “You in town for business or pleasure?”

Initially tempted to tell the other cat to mind his own business, Mozzie thought better of it; he didn’t want to be like his parents. If anything, he wanted to be as little like them as he could. He offered Carl a more genuine smile. “Just passing through, really. Still got a long trip ahead.”

“Oh, really? Where are you headed to?” Mozzie somehow hadn’t counted on this question coming up, although it seemed obvious. Since he actually hadn’t made any plans, Mozzie couldn’t even give Carl a specific destination, not even a shot in the dark.

“Uh… Well, I’m still working on that,” he said, clearing his throat a bit. The white cat looked at him curiously, but didn’t inquire any further. When they arrived on the second floor, Mozzie followed Carl as he carried his luggage for him. Door 203 was promptly unlocked, revealing a nice little room inside. It was decently sized, easily big enough to accommodate Mozzie quite comfortably.

“Thank you, now… would you happen to know good eateries around town?” Mozzie asked as he reached under his jacket, coming up with a nice tip of a few dollars for Carl. The other cat seemed surprised by such a tip, but he eagerly took the money.

“Oh there are plenty of dining options, Mr. Alonzo,” Carl said politely, pocketing his tip. “Just a few doors down is the nearest one, it’s got a quaint rustic style. Old-style recipes – real fine place, even if it is very unassuming.”

Even as bellhop listed yet more options, Mozzie took note of each one. Granted, he wasn’t picky… not too picky anyway. He had standards, but he wouldn’t turn his nose up at something that wasn’t made by a personal chef.

…

When Mozzie eventually did return from his dinner, he threw himself on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, like he’d do at home. He drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes and exhaled. The gray tomcat laid with his arms and legs spread as if he was about to start doing snow angels on his mattress. It was late, he’d been the last guest of the diner he’d visited, but how could he possibly sleep now with so much on his mind? The last thing Mozzie felt like doing was laying down and sleeping, even if he knew he ought to do so – the earlier he fell asleep, the earlier he could leave in the morning, right?

Sitting up, Mozzie moved over to the window. He could see the street below – dark, but illuminated by streetlights here and there. A few pedestrians were making their way around, but besides the odd couple of people here and there, the streets were deserted. He didn’t much fancy going for a walk at night in a town he’d never visited – what if he got lost?

But even so, Mozzie was too excited to sleep. He sighed and got out of bed. Locking his money in the nightstand drawer beside his bed, he left his hotel room. Mozzie was still wearing the same outfit he’d left home in. As long as he didn’t leave the hotel, he probably didn’t need his jacket.

Making his way down to the lobby, Mozzie took to casually strolling through the halls of the hotel. Though it didn’t have a big, sprawling ballroom, like other hotels Mozzie had been in, it still had quite a lovely little lounge. It was deserted and dark until he turned the lights on. Comfortable-looking chairs, nice carpets on the floor paintings on the walls along with a large bookcase. And in the corner…

Mozzie only hesitated for a moment to approach the studio piano, gently brushing the keys as if to clean off dust that wasn’t there. He pulled the stool out and sat down, back as straight as a board. He sighed, before his fingers found the keys and he began quietly playing a few little chords, humming to himself as he did. The piano wasn’t perfectly tuned, nor was it as impressive as the grand piano he had at home. But that didn’t seem to matter right now. It was a piano and he was just happy to get his fingers moving again.

Closing his eyes, Mozzie continued playing, simple chord progressions. He didn’t just stick to chords for long, soon he began playing other songs, old classics from decades past, as well as newer, more upbeat songs too. He did most of them with his eyes closed. Mozzie pictured himself up on stage like he’d been before as part of an orchestra… but this time… this time it was all him by himself.

He remembered the bright lights, the way the grand piano would resonate into a concert hall. Mozzie was so caught up in the moment, it wasn’t until he opened his dark green eyes that he realized he’d had a spectator. Startled, he played the wrong key, before coming to a halt.

“Good lord…!” he exclaimed having jumped quite a bit when he had turned to see the familiar bellhop standing there. “It’s just you… what are you doing here so late? Still working?”

Carl offered a small smile and shook his head. “Oh, I just heard you playing from the hall, I was helping with getting a few things sorted out down in the basement. But I could ask you the same, Mr. Alonzo…”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I can’t sleep – I just saw the piano and…” Mozzie trailed off, before standing back up.

“So, you’re a traveling musician, sir?” Carl asked curiously, his fluffy ears perked right up like two snow-white mountain peaks. “You’re very good, you must be a professional!”

“Not quite…” Mozzie paused. Even if it had been a wild session of daydreaming, Mozzie couldn’t get that feeling out of his head, the feeling of wanting to doing what he was good at for a crowd who enjoyed it. “I used to play for people up on stage, but I haven’t in quite some time. My parents never saw that as a good career path and they’re so set in their ways…”

“Ah, so you ran away to chase your dreams, did you?” Carl immediately asked. His tone wasn’t judgmental, if anything, it sounded almost understanding. Once again, Mozzie felt the temptation to tell the bellhop to keep his nose out of his business, but he thought better of it this time as well. He crossed his arms.

“Something like that. I just couldn’t stand to live with them anymore,” Mozzie said, face tightening. He didn’t know why he humored this guy, but he also didn’t see a reason to be rude towards the friendly bellhop. “I just need to get out there and figure life out for myself.”

Carl turned and looked as if ‘out there’ was within Mozzie’s line of sight, before looking back at the gray cat. “So you’re headed for them big cities? I’m sure you could find work, you’re a fantastic pianist, Mr. Alonzo.”

Mozzie’s expression softened noticeably. He didn’t recall the last time he’d been praised like that. The most he got from the owners of establishments he’d played in this summer was money and being told he did well. Not quite as surface level as his parents, but close; their praise had started out strong, almost heartfelt, when he was smaller, but Mozzie knew that was just to encourage him at an early age. These past few years, he would’ve lucky to receive a nod of approval from his father.

“Thank you…” That sort of praise had left Mozzie almost completely discombobulated for a moment, but he smiled some at the bellhop. “Well, it’s getting late, I think we both deserve some sleep. You have a pleasant night, alright?”

Of course, they both still had to leave through the same door, making the goodbye less than ideal. “Oh, if I may make a suggestion, maybe send a postcard home before you leave tomorrow, Mr. Alonzo. I’m sure your parents miss you.”

Glancing sideways, Mozzie looked far from convinced that this was a good idea. For one, they may just be able to find him, if the postcard was specific enough. Additionally, Mozzie didn’t know that they quite deserved that much courtesy from his side. “I’d rather not…”

“Oh. I just thought maybe they’d like to know that their son’s alive and doing well even without them,” Carl said simply. He offered Mozzie a small smile and even a wink. “I bet that’d really stick it to ‘em, don’t you?”

Mozzie stopped in his tracks as Carl turned down the hall towards the employees-only part of the building, leaving Mozzie to stand there and think about his words. He supposed he could write a scornful letter, highlighting how much better his life was now… or maybe just a strongly worded letter about how much better life was without them looming over him…

He would prove them wrong, chase his dreams, be successful. Nothing would be sweeter than showing them that he did indeed have what it took to live off his music. A sweet victory without the crutches of nepotism. Smiling with grim satisfaction, Mozzie pictured his mother’s appalled face upon learning that he was doing exactly what they didn’t want him to do.

That Carl… He was onto something. Mozzie couldn’t help but wonder… had Carl been through this himself? He seemed so nonchalant about suggesting such a thing. Mozzie had so many questions about that bellhop, but eventually he did make his way back to the elevator by himself, taking it back up to the second floor.

Mozzie awoke the next morning with an extra pep in his step. He hadn’t had a single plan since leaving home, but now… the stage was calling him. It had lit a fire under him like he’d never felt before. He could barely keep still as he sat in the lobby, writing that postcard Carl had advised him to write. He’d thought about it until he fell asleep and he’d decided on the angle he wanted to go for; a calm sort of smugness, never acknowledging the fact that he’d run away.

He simply wrote it like he had taken a vacation, keeping up a formal, impersonal tone. He told them how delightful the train journey was, what a wonderful town he’d stopped by in and of course, what his plans were. Mozzie wasn’t a fool, he wasn’t going to tell them where he was going, but he told them that he had set his sights on a music career.

“Best regards… Mozzie Alonzo…” he muttered as he jotted down the final line in his neat, tidy handwriting. The particular postcard Mozzie had purchased from the front desk of the hotel had the beautiful crimson facade of Berwick Hotel and the surrounding buildings on it. He slipped the card into an envelope and rose to his feet, planning on sending it once he’d had his breakfast. But first…

He’d purchased two postcards, placing one into his suitcase, before placing the postcard he intended to send into his jacket pocket. Mozzie closed and picked up his suitcase, before he approached the white-furred bellhop. He smiled at Mozzie as he approached, tail giving a curious flick behind him. And Mozzie returned the smile. “Ah, Carl, I just wanted to thank you before I leave. I’ve taken your advice and I’ll let my parents know how that I’m doing better than ever.”

“Oh that’s grand, Mr. Alonzo! Where are you off to? Or is that a secret?” Carl asked eagerly. He hurriedly reached for Mozzie’s hand to give it a firm shake with both his.

Mozzie let out a soft chuckle and shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think I’ll aim for somewhere further down south. A bit of distance before I settle down will be nice.” Mozzie let go of Carl’s hand after a couple shakes too many. “Well, if I ever come back to Cambridge, I hope we meet again. You be safe, Carl.”

“I hope so too, Mr. Alonzo, you take care of yourself out there – and good luck!” the white-furred bellhop said eagerly, waving Mozzie off as he left. Sure it looked a bit less than professional, but it brought a genuine smile to Mozzie’s face. If only he’d had a friend like Carl growing up. Perhaps he’d send him a postcard as well sometime…

Once Mozzie had had a big, filling all-American breakfast at a nearby diner, he set off for the station. He walked this time – he felt so energized, the idea of having to sit still on a train almost sounded like torture.

Money satchel under his jacket, suitcase in hand, Mozzie had to force himself not to bolt towards Union Station like a maniac. His face almost hurt from smiling… Was that because he wasn’t used to it? Or was this normal when someone smiled this much? Cambridge was a beautiful town, and it was wonderfully sunny and the sky was clear. Had it not been for the chilly breezes that sometimes buffeted his face, it felt like autumn was far away.

But before he could board the train, Mozzie had to send his postcard. He felt a strange sort of satisfaction, almost smugness as the envelope slipped from his fingers and into the mailbox where it hit another stack of letters with a soft, padded thud.

And it was done…

At the station, Mozzie promptly purchased a train ticket to Cincinnati, well aware that this would take a full day, but he could only feel excitement. Cincinnati was a big city, he’d be able to board a train to just about anywhere else from there! Maybe down to Kentucky or over to Illinois, the possibilities were almost endless!

Waiting for the train, Mozzie tapped his foot impatiently. It was so unlike what he’d been raised to do; standing up all prim, proper and still, like a statue. But he was just too damn excited. Mozzie had to remind himself to calm down as to not jump on the train, but he entered in an orderly fashion and found his seat. He cast a final glance out at the station before they began moving, but this time Mozzie felt excitement, optimism. And as he sat facing the front of the train, this time it was as if he was being sent out into the whole, wide world, instead of the world being pulled away from him.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction #mozzie alonzo #lackadaisy mozzie

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achoiceplumbingaz · 1 year

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Best Parks in Gilbert, AZ

Gilbert is a great place to live, but it’s also a great place to get outside! Here are some of my favorite parks in Gilbert, AZ:

Freestone Park

Freestone Park, located at the corner of Higley and Germann Roads in Gilbert, is a great place to spend time with family and friends. The park has a playground, picnic tables, and a large open area for games. Freestone Park was the Town of Gilbert’s first major District Park and began with 65 acres that opened to the public in June 1988. Original amenities were the softball fields, concession building & restrooms, “tot lot” exercise facility for adult fitness, 2 multiuse fields, and amphitheater.

Freestone Park is also host to “The Freestone Railroad which boasts a miniature train, antique carousel, and a mini Ferris wheel plus the Rip City Batting cages which were all added in 1992. Extra amenities added to the park have included volleyball & basketball courts plus a courtside ramada in 1996. Further construction in 2001 included the tennis courts and skate Park. Finally, the Freestone Recreation Center was opened north of the park in December 2002.

Discovery Park

Discovery Park is another great park located in Gilbert. The park has a playground, splash pad and amphitheater. Families with children can enjoy free admission to the Splash Pad which is open from 5am - 10pm. Discovery Park also offers a variety of programs including: Yoga classes, Summer Concert Series, Movies Under the Stars and more!

Discovery park is a 48 acre park that opened in 2006. The park features 5 multi use fields, basketball courts, sand volleyball pits, 2 ponds which are stocked as part of the community fishing program, a small playground with a fun climbing rock, a network of multi use trails, and 8 picnic ramadas (with power and bbq grills). Ramadas can be reserved for events.

Crossroads Park

Location:

Crossroads Park is located at the intersection of Gilbert Road and Ray Road, just north of Pecos Road. There are many nearby restaurants and stores within walking distance, including several grocery stores, a pizza shop and more. If you don’t want to drive after your visit to the park, it would be easy enough to walk into any one of these establishments for dinner or lunch afterward.

Amenities:

The park itself has plenty of amenities, including two playgrounds (one for younger kids and one for older kids), a basketball court, restrooms and drinking fountains all around it

History: The land that Crossroads Park sits on was donated by Mr. William Cross in 1935 as part of his estate planning strategy; he had intended that it become a beautiful place where children could play safely while their parents visited downtown Gilbert businesses nearby! When he passed away later that year at age 92 years old with no heirs left behind him whom wanted anything from his estate except this piece of land - no other relatives were interested in claiming any portion either so everything became theirs instead!

A Choice Plumbing is a licensed, insured and reliable plumbing company for all of your plumbing needs. We are family run and have been serving the area for many years. Our technicians offer prompt service, satisfaction guaranteed and reasonable rates. We are fully equipped to handle residential, commercial and industrial jobs, including: water heater installation, emergency plumbing service and many more!

A Choice Plumbing Gilbert, AZ 85233 480-769-8863 https://achoiceplumbing.com/

#plumbing company #plumber gilbert #emergency plumbing service #plumber

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

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She’s Mine (Protective!Bakugou x Punk!Tattooed!Reader) feat. Erasermic

Warnings: racism, implied homophobia (not by anyone in the main cast), sexism, discrimination/discriminatory behavior, Modern!AU, Aged-Up!AU, features Bakugou’s parents, Erasermic, Kota, Eri, Mahoro, Katsuma and all of Class A defending you when insults start to fly.

Synopsis: This is not the first time you’re seeing Bakugou’s family but it is the first time you’re meeting his grandmother, who is not the best company to be around. He comes to your defense after you stand up for yourself and he had no qualms about sticking his face in the old hag’s because he’d be damned if he lets anyone talk to you like that. You’re his.

Words: 3.2k

“Y/N’s here!!!” Mitsuki called over her shoulder as she threw the front door wide open before you could even ring the doorbell.

Her son had texted her that you two were on their way and she was eager to see you. With the job and your relationship with her son, you two were busy bees and didn’t come around as often anymore.

Which is why she insisted that her stubborn son at least come around for his birthday since it only happened one day out of the year. Then he could continue doing whatever it was that he was doing.

Luckily, you were on her side and helped convince him to go just this once.

You laughed at the pitter-patter of tiny feet scampering across the cherry hardwood before dropping everything to catch the little kid that tunneled into your legs.

“Y/N!!! You’re back!!!”

Eri’s ruby red eyes sparkled with joy as she clung to your legs.

“I missed you!!!” She shouted excitedly, hugging your knees tight.

You giggled, resting a hand on top of her head. “I missed you too, munchkin.”

Bakugou snorted behind you and you were reminded of his presence. “Oi, brat. Are you going to let us in or what?”

Eri stuck her tongue out at him childishly before dashing back inside, a trick she learned from her big brother Izuku, doubling back to grab your hand and hauled you inside with her. You casted a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend but he shrugged, giving you the go-ahead.

He would catch up to you two troublemakers later. Besides, he knew you would want to see all the kids first.

Kota, an orphan whose extended family gave him up for adoption, along with the siblings, Mahoro and Katsuma, were all under Aizawa’s guardianship.

After he adopted Eri, it sort of just snowballed until he was in too deep. He told Mic repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault that he had a soft spot for orphans.

His husband had merely shook his head with a laugh and hoisted Katsuma up higher so that he could reach the cupcakes they were going to sneak behind his back before dinner.

Mitsuki closed the door behind him as her son kicked off his shoes.

“She gets that from me.” She said proudly as she gazed lovingly at Eri. She loved having her around the house.

Since Aizawa and Mic lived relatively close, they came over often since she was feeling rather lonely with an empty nest.

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

His mother glared at him for his language but didn’t reprimand him like she normally would and his eyes turned into hateful slits.

“Don’t tell me—” He started, gritting his teeth.

“They’re here.” She said with a heavy sigh.

Bakugou cursed vehemently under his breath, his brow furrowing deeply as he fought to control himself. He was banking on them not making an appearance today.

His grandparents on his dad’s side, though he adored his grandad and thought the world of him, he absolutely could not stand his grandmother.

She was racist, sexist, had limited views on literally everything and would raise hell if she didn’t get her way and she was a huge pain in his ass.

Even his own mother couldn’t stand her and that was saying something because she tolerated everyone to some degree, despite her odd love language when it came to him.

They were both shit at communicating but it had gotten better as he got older.

Now, the worst things that happened were spats here and there when they disagreed but his mother was usually good about backing off if she felt he could make the right decision for himself, which wasn’t often but it was better than none.

Bakugou strolled inside and his eyes softened for a second when he saw you playing with Mahoro, Kota sitting on your lap as Eri was climbing all over Midoriya. You four were currently playing Monopoly and Eri exclaiming in shock as she realized she was losing since the devious Kota was slowly claiming more and more property.

“Haha!!” He cackled, rubbing his hands together evilly. “You landed on the purple one!!”

“No fair!!” Eri protested. “I don’t have enough money!!!”

“Too bad!!”

“Deku-niichan.” Eri cried, her eyes watering and you nearly fell over laughing as he frantically tried to get her to stop crying.

The rest of his old class from college was already here, as per his mother’s request and Kirishima’s invitation.

Shinsou, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida were all near the food, the previous class rep serving drinks even though it wasn’t his job to play host.

Tokoyami was currently engaged in a conversation with his dad and as Bakugou spun around the room, he realized every last one of his old classmates had shown up.

It was fucking crowded in his house.

But the spark of joy he felt diminished the instant he saw his grandmother and he scowled, straying to your side almost protectively as her eyes burned into his back.

This.

This was why he didn’t fucking want her here. He didn’t want her to rain judgement upon the person who had won over his heart.

No way in hell.

Look, you weren’t fragile by any means. Your heart was filled with a healthy amount of self-esteem and you had built up your walls to protect yourself against people who had something to say about your many tattoos or piercings, yet you still were the kindest soul he had ever met.

It was in the way you walked and interacted with people, a genuine smile always present on your features as you gave them more respect than most would give you upon first glance.

Bakugou knew you could handle yourself but you shouldn’t have to with his own fucking relatives. That shit was messed up.

You glanced at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye and your gaze dropped down to where his hands were clenched into fists, jaw locked tight and you sigh, softly urging Kota to get up and continue playing with Mahoro and Katsuma until you got back.

The boy grumbled but did as you asked, easily getting swept up in the competition of the game as you drifted to Bakugou’s side.

“I know that look,” You murmured into his ear, your hand covering his as you ignored the idle chatter coming from your friends and family around you. “What’s wrong?”

Bakugou clenched his teeth and debated about it for a second.

“Nothing.” He spat out eventually, choosing to deal with the old hag himself and you let him go when he stomped off, knowing that Kirishima or Kaminari would handle whatever it was that just happened if he didn’t want to talk to you about it.

Momo greeted you warmly and a smile slipped onto your face as though it had never left.

You hadn’t bothered to dress all that nice or different from your usual getup, feeling more comfortable in leather and all black that looked like you just came from a rock concert but you got the feeling that not everyone was feeling it as much as Jirou was when she came over to compliment you on your fashion taste.

Shoji and Koda each greeted you respectively and before you knew it, the catered dinner arrived and it was finally time to eat. The judging look you had been aware of from someone you didn’t recognize passing by as you brushed it off as unimportant and focused on helping Mitsuki set the table.

You clapped your hands gleefully when Eri pitched in to help, complimenting her on how well of a job she did as she finished and you beamed at her when she smiled up at you.

Of course, Aizawa needed to help her since he didn’t want her to stand on a chair and lose her balance but it was easy enough to lift her up. She wasn’t that big yet.

He had already told Mic he was dreading the day when she would grow up and have to leave home to start her own life and his husband patted him on the back sympathetically, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

They loved their children and their children absolutely adored them.

You had told them as such on more than one occasion since they got insecure that they weren’t adequate parents but you reassured them that they were perfectly imperfect.

They put their kids’ health, safety and happiness before everything else and did everything they could for them.

You wished your own parents had done that for you.

As soon as you set down the place settings for everyone and called everyone in for dinner, they flooded the huge dining table that overflowed into the living area to accommodate everyone.

Bakugou had left for a second to grab something from his old bedroom, promising to be back right away and you reassured him that you would be fine.

You were barely into helping Mic convince a stubborn Kota to take a spoonful of green beans onto his plate, Shinsou helping Aizawa with Mahoro’s vegetable serving, when a throat cleared itself loudly.

The lively chatter died all around the table died down as grey eyes pierced your own and you stiffened but held your ground.

You knew that look, you had seen it too many times.

The older woman opened her mouth and spoke.

“So, you’re my grandson’s girlfriend?” She enunciated, looking you up and down from where she was sitting at the head of the table, her hands setting down her knitting project to glare at you. “I don’t see why he’s dating you.”

The expressions of shock at her vulgar words made several of your friends angry in your defense, Iida and Todoroki trembling in anger and Mina’s eyes narrowed as she dropped her happy-go-lucky personality in favor of ripping her a new one.

But before any of them could act, she was continuing evenly.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to dress properly and looks like that, I mean, it’s already bad enough that your skin is that color, my dear, and you’ve ruined it even further with those ugly things.” She spat, unaware of the wrath she was evoking from every single person in the room.

Kaminari’s electric eyes glowed as he saw red. “Bad enough?”

“Excuse me?” Shoji seethed with unparalleled anger rising up in his chest, a rare sight for the normally calm and collected man.

Jirou, Ochako and Momo were furious at the way she was talking down to you and they shared a look amongst themselves, communicating wordlessly that this wasn’t going to be allowed to get out of hand any longer.

Kirishima was visibly shaking and even the normally shy Koda was fuming in his seat, openly glaring at the elderly woman who spewed insults at you.

A chair scraped back as Midoriya shot up but you shook your head, holding your finger up to your lips as you subtly gestured for everyone to hold back.

Aizawa’s nostrils flared from where he was covering Eri’s ears while several of his former students took care of the rest of the kids to make sure they wouldn’t hear this.

To their horror, the grandmother wasn’t even close to being done as she pointed a gnarly finger at you.

“Your job as a girl is to stay in the kitchen and attend to your husband. To even think you’re worth anything if you weren’t involved with my grandson is absurd.” She hissed at you venously, her skewed ideals rooted deeply in her beliefs and how she was raised. “You are a disgrace to even breathe the same air as someone like me.”

“Mother!!”

Bakugou’s father frantically tried to amend what had been done and Mitsuki was about to yell at her but you stopped her.

Everyone’s eyes turned on you as you took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I won’t apologize for being who I am.” You said quietly but firmly, failing to notice someone coming down the stairs and overhearing your steady words as they flowed from your lips like honey.

Not tricks. Just genuine sympathy, like you didn’t even hear her say all those horrible things to you.

It was supposed to be your boyfriend’s day and you weren’t going to ruin it for him in the same manner that she had just done.

“I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you think that we should be allowed to love who we love?”

You inclined your head slightly, allowing a sliver of the emotion you felt to slip onto your face as you glanced pointedly as Aizawa and Mic.

After you noticed her staring so openly at you, you also noticed that she would scowl whenever the two men would walk in the room and play with their kids and while you would take whatever she was going to throw at you, you weren’t going to tolerate the same for them.

They didn’t deserve that.

Holding up your arm, you inspected the ink running up and down the length of it. “As for my appearance, my style is my own. I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

There were a couple of snickers from Jirou, Kaminari, Sero and Mineta as you put her in his place and Todoroki leaned back in his seat, gazing up at you proudly as you stood your ground without firing any hate back at the old woman.

Hagakure clapped her hands jubilantly as a few cheers of agreement sounded around from the table but you had one more thing to say.

Your eyes softened. “I understand how you may feel about me, but I don’t need your acceptance. I love myself just as I am and if Katsuki ever feels differently about me and we split, then we’ll split. But please do not judge my love for him based on how you believe I should be. I am who I am and I won’t ever apologize for that.”

“And you never fucking have to.”

Bakugou strolled into the dining area, smirking at the old hag who had the nerve to look shocked at his appearance. Of course she would be so fucking disgusting to say something this horrible to you when he wasn’t within earshot.

Bitch.

Blood relations didn’t excuse behavior.

Narrowing his vermilion eyes at his grandmother, he faced her head on as he took your hand into his.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” He declared, tenacity and stubbornness dripping off of his tone as he snarled at his grandmother. “And if you ever speak to her like that again—”

He nodded in time to Mic and Aizawa, the men who had mentored him and taught him almost everything he knew.

“Or either of them, including the rest of these shitheads, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The veiled threat hung in the air and you squeaked as Bakugou abruptly dragged you to the front door.

“Where are you going?!” Mitsuki cried out, worried that you both were going to leave without eating anything and she was sad to think that her mother-in-law had driven you away.

Bakugou gnashed his teeth at the confused clamour that arose from his classmates. “Out!! We’ll be back later!!”

You could hardly get a word in edgewise as he dragged you all the way out to the car after barely giving you enough time to put on your shoes.

“Katsuki!! What—”

Your bewildered protests were interrupted as he whirled around and kissed you hard. You melted into his touch as his hot palms settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him. Whining softly when he pulled away, you panted as he breathed hard against you, his exhales fanning out over your face.

You were in a daze as he led you to the car, buckling you in before he got in the driver’s seat.

And he drove, taking a detour that would take him towards the countryside where there were no people, no places, just you and him.

Just how he liked it.

The painted lavenders and pale pinks of the setting sun faded to midnight black with stars twinkling high above you as you cruised around for hours before he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quietly and you immediately grabbed his hand that wasn’t currently occupied with steering.

“No!! You don’t have anything to apologize for—”

“Yes I do.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel a fraction as he slowly explained that if he had told you earlier about what she was capable of instead of ranting to his best friend like an idiot, maybe he could’ve—

“Katuski.”

Your soft murmur brought him back down to planet Earth and you shook your head firmly.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him without wavering once as he brought the car to a stop just at the edge of the trail. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Bakugou slammed his hand against the steering wheel angrily. “Yes it fucking is!!!”

He ranted and he ranted about how he had come downstairs only to hear his own flesh and blood spitting those vile insults that you didn’t deserve at all.

You didn’t deserve it at all.

You were quiet when he finished and when his chest was heaving with the spent rage he had aired out, you asked, “Feel better?”

“Like hell I do!!!” He snapped at you, about to go off again when he noticed the bemused expression on your face. “What the fuck, dumbass?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Why the hell aren’t you bothered at all?” He questioned, genuinely flabbergasted.

Eyes clearing in understanding, you traced the back of his hand with your fingers. “Because it doesn’t bother me.”

At the sight of Bakugou opening his mouth, you hurried out, “I mean, do you really think someone like that gets to cut me down? Her words don’t mean anything to me.”

You hesitated and opened yourself a little bit, trusting him not to take advantage of your weakness because while her words stung in the moment, it was nothing your heart couldn’t come back from. But…

“If you were to say them, it would hurt a lot more, but I don’t think you would— eep!!”

You yelped as he dragged you over to his seat, yanking at the seatbelt that got in the way, but pulled you to his chest once he released the safety clip.

“Never.” He breathed against your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I would fucking never.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

There, in his car, you two stayed in a tight embrace under the stars until you it got late enough that you insisted you should go back and at least spend the rest of the time with your friends, which, if their sleeping schedules hadn’t changed since college, there was a good chance almost all of them would still be up.

So Bakugou drove you both back, his heart a little more at ease after he got to hold you close and be alone with you.

That was all he wanted.

Well… He thought to himself as he unconsciously brushed his left hand over the small velvet box that had been hastily stuffed in his pocket the second he grabbed it from his room.

That and one other thing.

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Taking Chances Ch. 19: Lack of Communication (Wayne Gala)

AO3

The shrill ringing of her phone tugs Marinette from her sewing machine. Glancing at the caller ID, she grins widely.

“Hey Uncle Jagged.” She says, pushing her chair away from her desk. It’d been a couple weeks since she last heard from the man as his tour had really picked up at the end. It was practically back to back concerts, so that didn’t leave a lot of time for phone calls or face times.

“Little Rocker! Glad I caught you. I have an event next week and I was hoping I could drop by the bakery so you could fix a tear in one of my suits.” He says. Marinette winces. That’s what she was supposed to do. Tell Uncle Jagged about...well, everything.

“Yeah, about that…” She trails off, wishing she’d thought to tell him about the whole ‘adopted’ thing the last time she’d seen him in person. “I’m actually not in Paris right now. I’m in Gotham spending the summer with my birth father.” She says, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. There’s silence for a minute. Then two. She looks down at the phone, frowning. Did he hang up?

“You’re in Gotham?” He finally says.

“Yup.” She says, sighing. “I’m really sorry I won’t be able to fix your suit.”

“What, no, this is great! See the event is in Gotham! It’s just a bunch of rich people and- hold on. Penny!” He yells. She catches bits and pieces of their conversation, Penny agreeing wholeheartedly with whatever it is Jagged has suddenly decided. “I have a rocking idea.” He adds.

“Okay? I’m listening.” She says, glancing at the new dress she’d started that was pinned on her dress form. She was having trouble with the shape and was quickly getting frustrated with her struggles.

“You could come with! As MDC, of course. You could wear one of your designs and get known in Gotham. The event is supposed to be highly publicized. Penny thinks it’d be a good way to get known in the US. So, whatdya say?” Jagged asks, and Marinette can just tell that he’s grinning widely, can hear it in his voice. She thinks for a minute, glancing at the dress form with a new sense of determination.

“I’ll have to double check with my dad.” She says, trying to think if they had any plans for next week.

“Of course! Let me know soon, okay? Penny says she wants to start publicizing MDC’s appearance if you’re gonna come.” Jagged says. Marinette agrees before hanging up, thinking. Would her dad let her go alone? Or would he insist on coming with? She knew Gotham was dangerous, it’s why she hadn’t gone anywhere by herself despite being a hero herself. She didn’t want to risk her Miraculous falling into the wrong hands, even if the person didn’t realize what they had. Making up her mind, she sets off to find her dad and ask about the event. She still wasn’t quite sure what it was, just that there would be plenty of big names and plenty of journalists- the perfect opportunity to build up a clientele outside of France. Checking his study first, she’s unsurprised to see he’s not there. Knowing chances were good that he was in the cave, she pulls a domino mask out of her purse. Her dad had asked her a couple days ago to wear one in the cave just in case they had unexpected visitors. Kinda like how her and Chat Noir had shown up unexpectedly that one time. Complete accident. Changing the time on the clock, she presses the button that opens the entrance, sliding in and walking through the passage. Glancing into the cave, she grins when she sees her dad, in costume, sitting at the computer.

“Hey B!” She says, knowing not to call him Dad while he was in the cowl. Something about it making him seem less intimidating, or something.

“Ladybird.” He nods. She frowns, glancing at the computer screen and wincing when she sees Superman on screen.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy.” She apologizes, waving awkwardly at the man on the screen. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Hello. Ladybird, was it?” He asks and she nods.

“Er, yeah. Ladybird. Nice to meet you.” She says, rocking back and forth on her heels, eyes darting around the cave. Maybe she should just leave and ask later.

“Is everything alright?” Her dad asks, obviously confused at her presence in the cave. Not that she wasn’t allowed, she just didn’t spend a lot of time there.

“I was just wondering if I could go to an event next week with my Uncle.” She says, trying to stay vague. He’s silent for a moment before nodding.

“We can discuss details later, but that should be fine.” He says. Marinette grins, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cheers, resisting the urge to hug him. “Bye Mr. Superman!” She adds, waving before running back through the passage to work on her dress some more. This was going to be amazing!

---

Penny had picked Marinette up early the morning of the Gala. She still wasn’t sure what it was for, but that didn’t bother her. She was just excited that she had finally finished her newest dress in time for the Gala. Penny had insisted on her coming over early so that she could help Marinette do her hair and makeup, which she was thankful for. Selina apparently had something to do tonight and couldn’t help her, and she would’ve definitely been her first choice. Smiling down at her dress, Marinette looks at Penny with a grin.

“Could you take a picture for me without my face covering so I can show my parents later?” She asks. Penny nods, smiling back.

“That dress is amazing, Marinette. Truly one of your best designs.” She says. Marinette blushes at the compliment before smiling at the camera. She thanks Penny and takes her phone back, sending the picture to her Maman and Papa as well as her dad and Selina. She was extremely proud of the dress and wanted them to see her in it before she added her ‘disguise’ to protect her identity.

“Hey, Aunt Penny?” Marinette says, looking up at the woman. Penny hums, putting on lipstick. “What is the event for? All Jagged said was that it’s a Gala.” She says, Penny huffs.

“Of course that man didn’t give you any other information. Honestly, sometimes- you agreed without knowing what the event was?” She says, eyebrows raised. Marinette shrugs.

“Uncle Jagged said that it’d be fun. I trust him.” She says. Penny sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Remind me to read any contracts before you sign them, okay sweetie?” She says. Marinette nods and Penny smiles. “Good. Anyway, it’s a Wayne Gala. The family hosts several every year to help raise money for the Wayne foundation.” Penny says and Marinette freezes. Wayne Gala? As in, her father? Her family? Were they really having a Gala tonight without telling her? Or inviting her? Were they….were they embarrassed by her?

“Like, Bruce Wayne?” Marinette manages to ask, trying hard to ignore the way her heart breaks when Penny nods. That was why Selina couldn’t help her. She had to get ready for the Gala. And if she had to guess, the rest of her family was also going. What would they have done with her if she hadn’t had plans? Would they have told her then? Or would they have acted like nothing was happening. Where even was the Gala? Oh my god. It was at the Manor, wasn’t it. The thought strikes her and she winces, giving Penny a small, tense smile.

“Are you okay?” She asks, obviously concerned. Marinette nods sharply.

“Yes, one last question. Where is it?” She asks. Penny frowns, obviously not believing that Marinette was okay, but luckily not pushing it.

“Wayne Manor. The Galas are the only time the manor is opened to other celebrities. The family is usually very private.” Penny says. Marinette huffs out a puff of air, working hard to ignore the hurt in her chest. The feeling that she wasn’t enough. That they didn’t need her. Suddenly, she wasn’t excited anymore. She really wished she would have asked Jagged for more details last week, because now she was stuck going. And it was going to suck.

---

Feeling confident in her design and disguise, Marinette walks through the wall of journalists with Penny and Jagged at her sides. She was working hard to push down the intrusive thoughts that were threatening to take over. Instead, she tried to focus on the questions being called out by the journalists.

“Jagged! Jagged Stone, is this really MDC?” One of them asks. Jagged immediately stopping and shooting the reporter a wide smile.

“Of course it is! She designed all three of these outfits.” He says, gesturing between the trio. “Isn’t she rocking!”

“MDC, why did you pick the Wayne gala to make your first public appearance?” Another journalist asks. Marinette turns to Penny, trusting her to answer the question. They’d agreed before leaving the car that it was best if Marinette didn’t speak directly to any journalists. It would make it easier for them to place her age and where she’s from, given her accent.

“She was in the area and Mr. Stone insisted his favorite designer needed a chance to flaunt her skills in America.” Penny says, flashing the journalist a wide smile before gently pushing Marinette along down the line of journalists. Marinette nods to the man who’d asked the question before following Jagged and Penny closely, her stomach churning as they walk up the front steps of the manor. Of the place she’d been living since summer started. Where apparently they didn’t care to tell her about one of the biggest family events of the year. No big deal. She thought they were accepting her, that they were all getting closer. But maybe not. Her dad not telling her didn’t hurt nearly as much as her brothers not telling her. That felt like a knife in her chest. Trying hard to move gracefully instead of tensely, she follows Jagged into the manor and into the ballroom. Her jaw clenches as she spots her family across the room.

“Mr. Stone, I’m Clark Kent. Nice to meet you.” A man with a notebook and camera says, walking over and extending a hand. Marinette narrows her eyes. She thought the journalists were supposed to stay outside. And this man looked oddly familiar….

“Rocking meeting you man! You a journalist?” He asks, his calculating look hidden by a wide grin. Mr. Kent chuckles.

“Yes, sorry for being so forward. Mr. Wayne and I are friends, so he lets my wife and I have an exclusive pass to come inside the Galas.” He says, glancing at Marinette over his glasses. She watches as his eyes widen slightly before he schools his features back into a neutral expression.

“That’s pretty rock n roll of him!” Jagged says, clapping Mr. Kent on the shoulder.

“It is. Pardon me, but are you MDC?” He asks, turning to look at Marinette once again. She glances at Penny, shaking her head to let her know that she’ll speak for herself for this one. As upset as she was with her dad, he obviously trusted this man. So she would as well.

“I am. Pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Kent.” She says, extending her hand. He smiles, shaking her hand.

“And you, ma’am. I must say, I was not expecting to see you here. I was under the impression that in person events weren’t your forte.” He says, clearly fishing for something. She knew how journalists worked, she’d seen Alya at work enough times to understand that the man in front of her was looking for a story. One she wouldn’t be giving, no matter how much her father trusted the man.

“I like to occasionally surprise people.” She says, waving her hand in a noncommittal way. “Keep them on their toes.”

“I can respect that. Well, I’ll let you all get back to your evening. Nice to meet you all.” He says. She nods back at him, not missing the way he immediately darts off to her dad. She watches as the two start talking, a surprised look on her dad’s face before he turns and sees her. She knows he recognizes the dress. Knows that he knows as well who is underneath the veil. She turns, deciding to ignore him. He didn’t want her here, fine. She’d make sure she stayed out of his way.

---

Clark Kent was confused. He’d known that Bruce must have another kid, adopted in some way. He didn’t just work with random vigilantes, especially not in his city. So knowing that Gotham had a new vigilante named Ladybird, he put two and two together. Didn’t take the world’s greatest detective. But what was confusing was the fact that no new faces showed up with the Waynes as they walked into the ballroom for the Gala. Making a note to ask him about it later, Clark makes his way around the room, talking to familiar faces and names, writing things down that would help the story he was being forced to write on the Gala. These events were not his favorite to cover, hardly anything ever happened. Until he heard the commotion outside, other journalists calling out to MDC. He blinks in surprise. MDC had never made a public appearance before. This was an odd one to choose. Preparing himself to confront the designer, he’s surprised as she walks in behind Jagged Stone. He’s even more surprised when he realizes she had to be a teenager. He chats with the girl and Jagged, glancing down at her over the top of his glasses, shock immediately flooding him. The girl had injuries. Hundreds of them. Bones fused back together haphazardly. Quickly excusing himself, he rushes over to Bruce.

“Do you know who MDC is? Because that girl is definitely younger than Tim. And she has hundreds of injuries, Bruce. Hundreds.” He says quietly, watching as Bruce turns and glances at the girl, his eyes widening slightly.

“Shit.” He mutters.

“What?” Clark asks, trying to figure out if he should also be concerned. Bruce smiles, but it's tense.

“That is my daughter.” He says. Clark blinks.

“That’s the new one? Why didn’t she show up with the rest of the family?” He asks.

“I knew she had plans for tonight, so I didn’t tell her about the Gala. I was going to warn her about it, if she didn’t have plans. So she knew to stay in her room.” Bruce explains. Clark frowns.

“You were going to keep her locked up?” He asks incredulously. Not even the least social Wayne was kept locked away for the Galas.

“Of course not. It’s just- she hasn’t said she wants to be announced yet. She hasn’t even said anything about being MDC because she hates the spotlight. I couldn’t just throw her to the sharks. I’m just trying to do what’s best for her.” Bruce says, standing up straighter. Clark sighs.

“Did you actually talk to her about it? Or did you just assume?” He asks, Bruce huffs.

“I think I know my daughter a little more than you do, Kent.” He says.

“Really? Because from here it sounds like she’s about two breaths away from a panic attack. And Penny Rolling keeps reassuring her that they don’t have to stay long. Oh- and now she’s apologizing for not telling her it was a Wayne Gala until today, but she’s also clearly confused as to why it’s upsetting her. And now-”

“Okay, I get it.” Bruce snaps, cutting him off. Clark raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure what happened, but you should fix this.” He says with a pointed look before walking away. God knows the Bats all need a push in the right direction every now and again.

---

Jason frowns as he looks around the room for Marinette. He knew that she hadn’t come with the family, B hadn’t explained that one. But he had heard that MDC was there. And he wanted to talk to her, make sure she was doing okay. These things were annoying as hell and he knew he wouldn’t get through it if he didn’t have his brothers (even if they were little shits). He finally spots her near a wall, clearly trying to disappear. He grins widely, walking over and grinning at her.

“Well, MDC, fancy seeing you here.” He teases with a wink. He watches her for some kind of reaction, frowning when he doesn’t get one. “Pix?” He says, softer this time as he looks at his baby sister.

“Oh, that’s right, I wasn’t supposed to be here, was I? Well, sorry to disappoint.” She snaps bitterly. Jason flinches back, surprised at her tone.

“What’re you talking about?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed. Why did she sound so hurt? Why did she think they didn’t want her there?

“Clearly I’m not as much of the family as I thought I was.” She hisses under her breath. He starts to deny that, but she cuts him off with a humorless laugh. “Bruce didn’t even tell me that there was a Gala. None of you did either. A Wayne family Gala and I wasn’t told. I should’ve known better.” She says, turning to walk away. He grabs her wrist gently, stopping her.

“I promise you, we want you here. Dick, Damian, Tim, me- we all want you here. I can’t speak for B, I’ll definitely be having words with the son of a bitch later, but we want you here.” He says, frowning as he listens to her sniffle under her veil. “Pixie, we thought you knew. He told us you weren’t ready to come to this. I swear to you, we would have told you if we knew. I swear.” He adds. His heart breaks as he hears a hiccupped sob break free from her. He wants nothing more than to wrap his baby sister in a hug, but he knows he can’t. Media’d have a field day.

“Really?” She asks in a small voice. Jason nods.

“Hell yeah Pix. Tell ya what, I’m gonna go get the others and then we’re all gonna sneak out. Take one of the old man’s cars and get some garbage fast food. Who needs this lameass party anyway.” He says, hoping she’ll agree. He’ll let himself be mad at Bruce later. And boy was he gonna be mad. The old man had really fucked up this time. It was one thing to ask Mari to not go to the Gala, or to think she wasn’t ready for it. It was a completely other thing to not even give her the chance to decide, or tell her at all. Cause now she was hurt and thinking everyone hated her. Well, he wasn’t gonna let that happen. Not on his watch.

“Lemme just go tell Jagged and Penny real quick.” She agrees, scurrying off. The second she walks away Jason lets his smile drop into a scowl. That son of a bitch. Storming over to his brothers, he tugs them over to the wall. Better not to let B get word of where they’re going.

“What is the meaning of this?” Damian asks with a scowl.

“Pixie’s gonna tell her Aunt and Uncle that she’s leaving and then we’re stealing one of B’s cars to go to McDonalds.” He says simply. Tim frowns.

“And we’re doing this because?” He prompts.

“Because B apparently didn’t tell the kid about the Gala. And she assumed we knew, and that we all hate her.” Jason explains with a frown.

“Father said she didn’t want to attend.” Damian says, and Jason huffs.

“Yeah, well apparently he lied. She had no clue that the event she was going to as MDC was a Wayne Gala.” He says.

“I’ll go get the car and pull it up front.” Dick says, a determined look on his face. Sometimes his ‘we’re a family and we stick together’ shit annoyed the hell outta Jason, but he was thankful for it today.

“I’m gonna go grab Selina’s coat for her to put on. I saw her dress, and if any MDC fan sees her leaving with us it’s gonna start a media circus.” Tim says, walking away to the coat room. Jason sighs, watching Marinette from across the room. A cleared throat beside him tugs his attention back to his youngest brother.

“What?” He asks, pushing his frustration down. He’d go shoot something later, but right now he was determined to not take his frustration at Bruce out on his siblings.

“Why would Father intentionally keep her from the Gala? She is far more adept at social interaction than I am.” Damian says with a frown. Jason sighs, shrugging.

“No clue. But I’m not about to let her push herself away from the rest of us just because B fucked up.” He says, watching as she walks over to the wall, almost disappearing in the shadows. He nods towards her, making sure Damian follows. The second Tim has Selina’s coat, their small group is off, sneaking out one of the side doors and walking past the journalists, sprinting to Dick and the waiting car. They all jump in and she tears the veil off her face, making Jason wince slightly at her red, puffy eyes. Dick slams on the gas, eliciting a curse from Jason and a squeal of surprise from Marinette.

“So! We broke out of that stuffy party. Where are we headed?” Dick asks, glancing in the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Jason. Jason grins.

“We go get a shit ton of junk food from McDonalds and eat it in the car. Give it the old, fast food smell that B loves oh so much.” He says. Marinette snorts, and Jason grins at her. He’d give B hell later, but for now, he was going to enjoy spending time with his siblings.

---

Bruce frowns as he glances around the Gala, not seeing his daughter. Or any of his other children. He made a mental note to talk to them later. Perhaps keeping the Gala from Marinette wasn’t his best decision.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

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dangerouslcve · 3 years

Note

Could I request a Tom Felton x reader where he gives her an epic flash mob/flash concert proposal with a lot of participants and her favorite song?

- - -

Pairing: Tom Felton x reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Tom had a gig coming up and you and a couple of his friends went. Little did you know that gig would change your life forever.

- - -

It was a busy night at the troubadour, a very well known place for hosting many amazing bands. They had offered Tom to play for them the moment we had touched down in California and of course Tom being the wonderful and fun person he is could not turn down playing at the Troubadour. I mean who would? The beach boys and Elton John had all played here before this was a perfect opportunity for Tom and you couldn’t wait to cheer him on from your spot at the bar.

Tom had been your best friend for 8 years, boyfriend for 3. You were practically inseparable, you both went everywhere together and did everything with the other person around to hype them up and cheer them up. You couldn’t see a world without Tom in it... He meant everything and more to you and he made sure you knew that he felt the same. Maybe two or three times during a span of an hour he would whisper in your ear how much he loves you and how beautiful you were to him. Inside and out. He was a hopeless romantic it had to be said, when he asked you to be his girlfriend he took you out to Venice beach holding you steady on his skateboard his hands on your hips keeping you steady before he whispered the question in your ear. He should be glad you both landed in the sand because the question made your knees weak and your heart spike and suddenly you were on the sand laying on your back and he was on top of you laughing.

He was every persons dream guy, he was kind and respectful, he could sing and he had the cutest little dog, Willow. But before Willow their was Timber and you remember while his ex was away he would come to you for comfort, holding onto you tightly, his head buried in your neck as he cried silently saying just how much he missed his timbs and you would hold him comforting him only to watch him leave to be back with her. It hurt your heart every time because somewhere and somehow the lines became crossed and you fell so madly in love with Tom and that was never supposed to happen but you weren’t complaining now. You were the happiest you had been in a very long time and that was all because of the man sitting to your left tuning his guitar.

He sat in a leather chair, his bottom lip between his teeth, and his hat holding back his hair so it doesn’t fall in front of his eyes. You watch as his fingers twisted the knobs on the guitar while he plays it making sure it sounds just right before he goes on stage. You were pretty sure he felt your gaze on him because he lifted his hand releasing his bottom lip smiling shyly. He had been acting so strange and almost kind of distant lately but his filming for his new movie had been tiring him out so you brushed it off. You did not want to allow your mind to wonder down the dark path of ‘what did I do wrong?’ “Penny for your thoughts?” he questions finally turning his body away as he places his guitar against the wall before turning back to face you with a soft smile. You both stared into each others eyes for a long moment, neither one of us having to say anything. The silence was saying everything for us until of course he ruined it by giggling.

“We were having a moment and you had to go and ruin it didn’t you?” you roll your eyes shoving him in his shoulder grinning. Tom laughs leaning over pressing a kiss to your forehead and you felt your cheeks heat up. Even after three years of being together the forehead kisses always made you feel like a giddy school girl again and he had that down on lock. His lips then trailed down to your cheek where he pressed a gentle yet soft kiss before he moved to the other cheek whispering an I love you before pressing a kiss then he moved to the tip of your nose pausing watching as your eyes flutter close in anticipation before he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose telling you that you are beautiful before finally he places his warm hand on your cheek.

“You are my forever.” he whispers and your heart spikes as he presses his soft lips to yours with a smile. You move closer to him wrapping your arms around his neck as you deepen the kiss. His hand moving away from your cheek to rest on your upper back pulling you closer. You both pull away breathing hard before you both burst out into laughter. “Been to long.”

“I know Mr Tommy. Why haven’t you kissed me?” you question and he chuckles looking away, a mischievous glint in his eyes before he turns back and its gone.

“I have kissed you and please stop calling me that my darling.” he whines his arms wrapping around your waist and you laugh pulling away from him making him whine more. “Come back, I wasn’t finished.”

“You go on stage in 3 minutes, you can wait for another kiss. I had to wait for three days for a kiss other than a peck you will live.” you smirk and his mouth drops open as he watches you stand. You felt you flight or fight kick in when he sent you the all to familiar playful eyebrow raise and smirk. “I will see you after the show-” you squeal running to the door but he presses his hand against it shutting it making you giggle uncontrollably.

“You are gonna pay for that little jab darling. You have no clue what you are in for.” he smirks and you cover your mouth with your hand trying to stop the giggling and he copies you. Before his hands fall to the side tickling you making you scream and he laughs. You grab the handle as he continues his attack on your sides nearly falling out the door as you open it.

“Stay back!” you laugh bumping into a person behind you making you turn around immediately. “I am so- Dad?!” you say in complete shock staring at your dad who was grinning down at you. “What are you- MUM?” you yell seeing your mom behind him laughing. What on earth was going on?

“We heard Tom was doing a gig? We wanted to visit.” your mum smiles wrapping her arms around you holding you close. You felt confused and nervous thinking you did something wrong.

“Ahh Felton a word?” your dad says and Tom opens his door wider allowing him to walk in with smile. What the-

“Mum why-why are you here? You guys live no where near LA.” you laugh nervously as she guides you out to the area past the stage to the bar. You felt your nerves getting the best of you was you fan yourself off with your hand feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Your mum questions you a little to quickly. Why was she nervous?

“Nothing I just... Forgot how to breathe for a hot second. CAN I GET SOME WATER?” you scream and your mum laughs shaking her head. You had to yell in this damn place because the people were being incredibly loud and annoying and you felt your heart hammering against your rib cage at the thoughts you were having. The bar tender tosses you an Aquafina with a wink before turning away. You catch the drink before shaking your head looking up at the stage. Your dad joins you minutes later and you feel your anxiety go through the roof clearing your throat looking anywhere but your parents. In the corner of your eye you notice more people filing through the door...Not just any people... These people looked very familiar... “Holy fuck.”

“What-” you dad begins to ask before a man invites your boyfriend to the stage and you feel yourself holding your breathe. Everyone cheers as he walks on stage smiling from ear to ear, smiling at everyone. You gently clap looking around at both exits noticing everyone was smiling. You were overthinking, of course they were smiling this was a concert.

“-This song is dedicated to someone very special in the crowd wherever she is. Hopefully she didn’t pull a Cinderella and leave me.” Tom says when he gets to the microphone and everybody laughs. Your mom looks over at you with a look smirk that you knew a little to well. Something was about to happen.. “Y/n where are you?” he questions and you laugh screaming at him making him giggle. “Found her, this one is for you my love.” he says as he begins to sing all you need is love.

“I said it’s easy!” he sings and the bands joins in making everyone cheer as they start dancing. Another person comes on stage taking over the song “Y/n come up here my darling!” he says as the other person sings and you laugh hopping off the stool running up the stage to him and he grabs your hand. “You may be wondering what’s happening, why I have been so distant lately.” oh my god. “But I have been dying to ask you this question since the moment on the beach.” he gets down on one knee and the music becomes quiet and suddenly it’s just you and him in an empty room. “Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” he questions and now it was your turn for your mouth to fall open. You watch him open the box revealing a beautiful diamond ring making tears prick your eyes.

“Yes.” you answer your voice trembling and everyone screams with excitement as the band begins singing the rest of the song. Tom stands up gently sliding the ring onto your wedding finger before crashing his lips to yours. You giggle into the kiss wrapping your arms around him before he pulls away pressing the side of his face to your grinning pointing both yours and his family out in the crowd making you want to cry harder.

“I love you fiance.” he whispers into your ear as you wave at your families.

“I love you too.”

“Let’s get out of here fiance.”

“Are you going to keep calling me fi-”

“Fiance I need another kiss.” he pouts and you laugh pressing your lips to his before pulling away. “Let’s go party fiance.”

“Thomas.”

“Sorry fiance.”

#tom felton imagine #tom felton x reader #Tom Felton #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco x reader #julian albert #julian albert x reader #julian albert imagine

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bluebandana · 4 years

Text

The LP Show Act 2: Summary

helloooooo we started off with some technical difficulties and got pushed back like an hour and a half (yes we are tired)

mae started off singing a few songs!!!

two minute waiting period!!!

a little intro video!!!

liam looks super cute!!!!! he has crowd sounds playing and the comment section up again!!!!

song 1: first time

he did a really cute giggle in between songs which i feel like really needed to be mentioned

song 2: slow

“i keep forgetting the fan sounds” 🥺🥺🥺

song 3: midnight

*forgets the sounds again*

“the reaction to the first show was amazing and this one seems even better. AND IT’S MY BIRTHDAY. i keep forgetting it’s my birthday”

showed merch and shouted out some fans

question: when are you coming to australia?

answer: he doesn’t know when he’s going back but he loves it!!! australia was the first place they went to after the uk (when 1d first started) and they loved the reaction to the band and “niall gave a helicopter the bird”

question: how does it feel to be performing by himself?

answer: talked about 10th anniversary!!! and how long it’s been and how amazing everything has been

“i’ve got a mustache now” (when talking about the changes in the past ten years)

song 4: night changes “i’m gonna need you guys to help me sing since i’m alone now” 🥺🥺🥺

“that felt good” (after the song ended)

“some of my favorite 1d songs are in this set”

song 5: what a feeling “we’ve never really sang this song”

“i’m sorry i put off the end of that song but it’s my birthday”

talked about how many people are at the show!!!!!

question: what’s your favorite memory from 1d?

answer: THE BREAD VAN

question: 1d performance he remembers the best

answer: Wembley stadium when the place was dark and the only light was his light up shoes lmao

question: wish for his birthday

answer: “not telling you because then it won’t come true”

looked at all of the countries people are watching from!!!

look at throwback 1d pictures!!!!

first picture

1d in the onesies that they always used to wear and said that they “got told off for wearing them by someone in xfactor:

second picture

them from when they went go carting with nintendo “mario cart style” lmao and said that “i won.....no one else is here to tell me otherwise so”

third picture

them in ghana!!!!!! he talked about how much he loved going there and said that it was “at the perfect time” and mentioned the music video they filmed there!!!!

fourth picture

him in his “favorite picture of me in a vest ever” from a 1d concert with the crowd and a “little H 🥺” in the background!! he said he didn’t remember where the show was but to “circle if you can find yourself in a crowd”

showed us unseen footage of himself recording remember!!!!

the lyric “how can i forget someone who gave me so much to remember?” came straight from pinterest and they based the whole song on it dsfghjkhgfd

at one point he was in the recording booth without a shirt on edsfghjhgfds

back to the show

the next few songs were “new remixes just for tonight”

song 5: for you live remix

song 6: get low live remix

song 7: stack it up live remix

question: new genre to bring to music?

answer: he’s gonna keep doing dance music!!!

questions about djing and such!!!!

answer: basically he talked about working with all of the djs he’s done stuff with but it was really fast and i couldn’t write it down :(

showed pics of previous birthdays!!!!

talked about the bday pic where the story of not having friends come celebrate again came from and how it’s a lie

“i’ve had a lot of extravagant bday cakes......i hope you guys got me one this year” and they said they didn’t get him one :(

all of the songs from 8-12 were all partial songs and smushed together which was a little sad :((( but he still sounded so good!!

song 8: familiar

song 9: drag me down

he said “that was a surprise” when the song switched (later during the after party they were talking about how he had never heard the mixes before so either it was about not knowing when the songs switched over or about the remixes from earlier)

they played the studio version in the background and i gasped at the sounds of the other 1d boys’ voices

song 10: polaroid

song 11: bedroom floor

song 12: strip that down

song 13: best song ever!!!

it was on the set list he gave to us after what a feeling and he skipped it but he brought it back here as a bonus!!!! and he sang the full thing!!!!

he ended the song with “it was the best birthday party after party ever....coming up right after this”

intermission before after party!!

after party!!!!

we came back to him wearing a full blue suit!!!

“this is me in my birthday suit” sdfghjhgfd

thanked us for coming!!! talked about enjoying singing 1d songs!!! especially what a feeling!!!! gave a hand for mae!!!!!

read the itinerary for the after party like a cute host

fan vs. fan on zoom!!!

presents!!!!!

live on tiktok after

birthday messages!!!

we were trending worldwide!!!!!

question: favorite dance

answer: the wap dance jfkdksal

zoom game!!!!

threw a dart with a number!!! number is the number of the zoom fan!!!! another fan asks a question!!!! if zoom fan gets it right, they win a prize. if they get it wrong, the question fan gets a prize!!!

it wasn’t not working too well and he said “it’s my birthday so that’s my excuse” and “i’m gonna stand here very awkwardly and make funny faces” then “now i’m staring at myself which is even worse”

fan question: what is liam’s middle name?

liam said “they better get it right” or something like that implying it was easy dfghjkjh

then they didn’t get it :(((

prize!!!!: liam’s burberry shirt that he was papped in a few years ago!!!

back to liam

question: most emotional thing about going solo

answer: “finding out that someone didn’t know my middle name.....nights like tonight when i perform these songs by myself......night changes is a tear jerker for me”

fan said they would donate $500 if he writes her name on his hand “how do you spell the name...i did go to school it’s just polite to ask”

presents!!!!!

first present is from his parents

something popped out and he got scared!!!!! but he loved it!!!!

birthday messages

zedd

alesso

did a tshirt cannon but social distanced style and gave them away to people in comments

he shot a little cannon every time!!!!

back to zoom game

the person who asked the question wasn’t there so liam had to read it and he said “i hope i know the answer” before reading it

fan question: (the number was 18 and he sang a bit of the song) at what age did i take up boxing?

the fan didn’t know so he gave them the answer so they would win

answer: 13

gift was one of his gucci shirts

another present

it’s a HORSE COSTUME.....one of those ones where he’s riding a horse

birthday message

from dj khaled

he called him “lima” LMAOOO

“i shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as i am” about wearing the costume

#1 trending in australia!!

“you took a long look at my crotch area there and i hope it was because of the horse”

“i’m getting used to it now....it becomes quite fulfilling after a while”

zoom game #3

fan question: name 5 artists that liam collabed with so far

they got it!!!!

another shirt that he got papped in once!!!

did another tshirt cannon!!

birthday messages

rita ora

NIALL FUCKING HORAN

moved to tiktok

made a tiktok with the reactions of when you like your birthday present vs. when you don’t like your birthday present but you’re pretending

his family got him a birthday cake in the shape of a giant cookie!!!! and they played the cookie song for him!!!!! he talked about that trend about how everything is cake!!!!

#okay the format is a little weird but im tired fghjgfds #once again if i got anything wrong or left anything out please let me know!!!!!!!#liam payne #the lp show #the lp show act 2 #liam93productions #i don't know what else to tag but i did this again because people asked!!!#please love it #mine

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smiting-finger · 4 years

Text

Bin AU Headcanons

Part II of the (〃ω〃) 500 followers! unwritten-headcanon amnesty (some given in response to AO3 comment questions, and others given unsolicited, lol), this time for Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart and from me to you, my heart to yours

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

Pre-Wei Wuxian’s first arrest, Lan Wangji was quietly volunteering as general legal aid (helping old migrants with their internet/other service contracts, helping women with their domestic violence paperwork), and then Wei Wuxian gets arrested at a protest and Lan Wangji is not there and he doesn’t know this area of law so he signs up to get involved with Activist Legal Support the next day.

Relatedly: Lan Wangji’s approach to helping Wei Wuxian has always been to turn up, do what needs to be done for Wei Wuxian to achieve his goals and then silently leave again. So when the two goobers eventually move in together (and are finally fully in each other’s space, and fully across each other’s movements), Wei Wuxian goes through a period of constant realisations like “Oh, Lan Zhan, you’re the one who’s been doing this? This as well?! THAT, TOO???”

Pre-fake dating, Lan Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian won’t keep any gifts given by secret admirers, but will shamelessly accept anything that Lan Wangji gives him outright as a friend (”friend”). He derives a petty satisfaction from that, and so has responded more than once to a gift-incident by giving Wei Wuxian a corresponding gift of his own:

So if he heard about the gift socks, he’d go out and get Wei Wuxian a pair of novelty There’s No Planet B! socks, which Wei Wuxian would naturally wear both immediately and proudly with his shortest pair of 4/5ths pants. (And Lan Wangji would stand next to him and somehow radiate smugness without making any change to his expression.)

Needless to say, Wei Wuxian has received a lot of Lan Wangji chocolate (chilli, fairtrade), lunches (homemade, nutritious) and other small items.

Wei Wuxian never even considers the possibility of not putting all his fake-dating eggs into the Lan Zhan basket. And also never stops to think about why that iss.

In re kungfu practice: when sparring against normal people, Lan Wangji does annoyed-leg-sweeps because of “I’ll bring you down every peg to the floor” reasons he’s too well-bred to voice.

Past recipients of this treatment have included:

Wen Chao,

Xue Yang at his most obnoxious

Jin Zixuan when gossip about his comments in re Jiang Yanli not being pretty or successful enough to date him (”I can’t believe my mum set me up with someone so mediocre”) is at its height.

This is pre-Wei Wuxian onstage-punch. That comes during the second round of gossip.

With Wei Wuxian (and only Wei Wuxian), however, it’s always leg sweeps and pinning, which is because of ... “irritation”.

The Phoenix Mountain Reserve photo has been Lan Wangji’s favourite shot of Wei Wuxian since it was made publicly available, but he couldn’t use it as a wallpaper for obvious reasons.

Then he agrees to the fake-dating, sees how far Wei Wuxian was going to take it and realised: chansu!

At some point during the fake-dating, Wei Wuxian escalates from the phone entry of Oppa to calling Lan Wangji “Oppa~!” in real life, and then from there to a full “Oppa! Saranghaeyo~!” with the arms-on-head love heart.

After n iterations of this, Lan Zhan responds with a mirror arms-on-head love heart and a deadpan “Saranghaeyo.” with his face still like (• _ •) and it’s an instant, supereffective K.O. for Wei Wuxian.

Every so often, when another one of his romantic overtures has soared right over Wei Wuxian’s head, Lan Wangji considers Jin Zixuan’s over-the-top demonstrations of affection and thinks (bleakly) “...Jin Zixuan got a singing telegram. Must I also resort to a singing telegram? ; _ ; “

In re: the concert hip-hop number, shirtlessness is the goal all along:

A-Qing (who is also a troublemaker on Lan Qiren’s radar - as soon as he receives the form that says that she and Wei Wuxian will be working together, his spidey senses start tingling) has been constantly referencing it throughout all their practices like:

“Well, because you’ll be shirtless, you’ll have to make sure to-”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, totally do that, but remember that you’ll be shirtless too, so-”

Even Song Zichen and Xue Yang know about it and have been visibly bracing themselves for the dress (or undress, lul) rehearsal

Wei Wuxian has missed all of this because of his amazing tunnel vision.

Speaking of Song Zichen and Xue Yang, while they’re having their Moments:

Xiao Xingchen is swanning around like “But do you think the performance had artistic integrity? A-Qing, I’m a little worried that the choreography didn’t do full justice to the abilities of all our members! I hope they don’t think I’m hogging the limelight!”, taunting them with his half-nakedness while he earnestly tries to make sure that all the other dancers are comfortable and happy with the final arrangement

A-Qing fully notices the heart-eye beams shooting over from the wings (and fully notices the same heart-eye beams shooting over during various practices), briefly thinks about saying something to put the two losers out of their misery (because Xiao Xingchen is not the special level of oblivious that Wei Wuxian is), but then thinks ... nah.

During practice back-painting, Wei Wuxian is so focused on Not Looking that his mistimes his ~sexy stretch~ and gets it in precisely when Lan Wangji has turned his back to get the towel, so it really is all for nothing, RIP.

In the reprise back-painting session (and there definitely is one, what with Lan Wangji’s love for marking and the fact that Chinese calligraphers usually sign their name on their work), the levels of both shamelessness and trolling shoot through the roof on both sides:

Wei Wuxian suddenly feels the need to do a lot more whimpering and moaning, and his flinches of “surprise” and wriggling to “get comfortable” suddenly happen a lot more in the hip area than they did before.

Lan Wangji does a lot more touching of the skin he’s about to paint to “warn” Wei Wuxian that the brush is coming (do warnings have to be quite so ... lingering? Only Lan Wangji knows), discovers a sudden need for wrist-pinning to “hold Wei Wuxian still while he works” and his blowing on ink to get it dry suddenly gets a lot more ... sensual ...

Lan Wangji is the teacher that all his babies are always proposing to. They lOvE him with every inch of their tiny baby hearts, and after they get together, Wei Wuxian watches on with a knowing nod, like “My fam, I getcha. Gege will support you in expressing your feelings and we can ALL win!”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know it, but he has a group of grannies and grandpas wringing their hands over his happiness, too: It’s all well and good that he’s seeing the Lan boy now, but when are they gonna get married, huh? HUH?! WHAT’S THE POINT OF SAVING THE PLANET IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA FILL IT WITH BABIES, WEI WUXIAN???

So once they officially start dating, Wei Wuxian steps into the Cultural Centre like “Ah, our fresh new romance! Even after all this time of fake-dating, I’d better give people some transition time to get used to this new state of affairs!”

And in the background, 73 aunties and grannies are thinking “Look how behind schedule you are, Wei Wuxian!” (because it’s definitely his fault, and not Lan Wangji’s). “Where are the babies? WHERE ARE THE BABIES??”

The wedding advice Wei Wuxian got from the grannies during Mianmian’s wedding prep is liberally flavoured with real life anecdotes like:

“Don’t be like XX’s son. He made the mistake of trying to skimp on the dowry - so disrespectful to people who’ve poured so much love and energy into raising a daughter - and it poisoned the entire relationship.”

“That venue is no good - YY’s daughter had her reception there, and we all had diarrhoea after eating the prawns.”

(And Wei Wuxian is like: “How can you retain all of this bullshit detail about every wedding the Cultural Society has ever witnessed, but still not know how to say the phrase ‘Excuse me, what time is the bus coming’ in English?!”)

Mianmian definitely also gets strong-armed by her excited mother into some glorious(ly terrible) Chinese-style studio wedding photos (with industrial-strength airbrushing and wedding costume changes that span many cultures and many Chinese time periods).

Mianmian swears to never let Wei Wuxian get his grubby hands on that album, on pain of death.

But then her parents host something, and Wei Wuxian goes, and right there, hanging in their living room, is a floor-to-ceiling calendar, featuring Mianmian and Mian-man dressed as Chinese emperor and empress (because Mianmian certainly didn’t want it in her house, but it came with the package.)

Wei Wuxian makes a noise that Mianmian previously thought only dolphins could produce, and proceeds to take SO MANY photos with his phone.

At some point after Mianmian’s wedding, Lan Wangji comes out of the shower to find:

1 pair of pyjama bottoms waiting for him on the bed; and

Wei Wuxian in the corresponding top (which doesn’t cover his butt after all, but whatever, he’s committed), shooting him a double-thumbs up and wearing an expression like 8D!

(And Lan Wangji decides it’s not worth fighting and just goes with it.)

Lan Qiren

Lan Qiren is totally the kind of parent who never boasts about his children directly, but will listen politely to you telling him about how your son scored 86 in his maths examination, and wait for you to obligation-ask about his kids before casually saying, “Oh, Wangji? He scored full marks” and smiling thinly.

He’ll add “Sounds like your son worked really hard” for extra fuck you value if you were being particularly obnoxious.

The greatest tragedy in his parenting life is realising that if your children are The Best, it’s only possible for them to marry down.

His initial feelings regarding Wei Wuxian dating his nephew can probably be summed up as: “Wei Wuxian, I did not lovingly raise my precious Lan Wangji just to give him to you!!!”

(The problem is that his nephew (inexplicably) likes Wei Wuxian so much, mumblegrumble.)

For weeks after The Resentment of Lan Qiren, every time Lan Qiren sees Wen Ning, he shakes his head sadly to himself and mutters “What a shame, what a shame.”

When Wen Ning responds with a slightly panicked “?!”, Lan Qiren just pats him on the shoulder, like, “No, no, it’s not you. We can’t choose our relatives. And isn’t that the greatest shame in the world?” - and then DOESN’T EXPLAIN ANYTHING.

And after many bouts of thinking and rethinking still lead him to the conclusion that Wei Wuxian is the best choice in comparison to all the other available options, Lan Qiren may or may not visit Cangse Sanren’s grave to burn some incense for an excuse to stand there and offer a sullen, “You fukken got me again, you bastard. I can’t believe you.”

He doesn’t know who he hates more:

Wei Wuxian for being himself and yet still the best choice

Cangse Sanren for not letting being dead stop her from continuing to be a thorn in Lan Qiren’s side

Wen Ruohan for being undesirable enough to disqualify the only valid competitor

The other parents for failing to produce children who are better than Wei Wuxian

(Like: Surely it can’t be that hard if he (+ his brother + his sister-in law) managed to produce two)

So he settles for hating everyone.

For his next birthday, Lan Xichen sends him a box of blood-pressure-lowering supplements.

Lan Qiren is like “!!!” but he still takes them because just because his nephew is being impudent does not mean there is not also a Need.

In re 3zun:

Lan Qiren goes around determinedly Not Thinking about Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao. Every time his eyes approach something he doesn’t want to see, he just turns his head like NOPE.

He eventually realises that he and Wei Wuxian have this in common and that Wei Wuxian is therefore his most valuable ally - both in terms of having someone to pivot to and have very loud, very enthusiastic conversations about anything else whenever the 3zun do something they don’t want to see, and also having someone to commiserate with about Not Wanting to Know. (But because they’re them, they alternate between teaming up for self-preservation and using their mutual weakness to take petty jabs at each other.)

"-If two of them are dating, then where does that leave the third one?!"

"RIGHT? Imagine finding out that they were silently pining away, forced to third-wheel for their unrequited love and best friend - unrequited LOVES AND BEST FRIENDS? What would you say to that?!"

"That's not even considering which one the third wheel would be - I honestly don't know which option would be the worst, they're all terrible."

"I'm almost ready to say that I'd rather they all be dating each other, except then I'd have to think about how that would work, dynamic-wise, like - who calls the shots? Do you think Nie Mingjue is domineering all the time, or do you think it’s a public front, and he then goes home to be dominated by-"

“STOP.”

Even before 3zun get together (both Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian have chosen to Never Know when this is), Jin Guangyao is throwing out suggestive comments left and right and then immediately whipping out his (◔◡◔✿) face for anyone’s double-take:

50% to test the waters of public sentiment before he makes a move and it actually becomes his problem

50% because he’s a troll who likes dominance displays

Knowing this factoid, one of Wei Wuxian’s mental 3zun Dynamics possibilities features Superdom!Jin Guangyao, but he does his best to avoid thinking about that.

After Lan Qiren mentally accepts Wei Wuxian into the fold:

He still internally responds to at least 50% of the things that Wei Wuxian does with “Why, that little shit”, but it’s also implied that Wei Wuxian is their little shit now.

And for Lan Family! Qiren, this means: If you shit on him, WE shit on you.

“Shufu”

Lan Qiren definitely Notices when Wei Wuxian calls him that, but it Doesn’t Do to make a fuss.

He probably has a conversation with Lan Xichen sometime around the first family dinner that goes:

LQR: You've noticed that he's still calling me 'Uncle Qiren' like we're nothing to each other.

LXC: ...If you want him to call you Shufu, should you perhaps not mention that to him?

LQR: What? No, he should already know these things!

And then after the wedding:

LQR: Your brother's boyfriend is finally acting like one of the family. LXC: Haha, oh my.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan

Although their mothers have been friends for ages, Jin Zixuan grows up in a different city, so they don't see each other growing up. The Jins later move for Jin Zixuan's high-flying corporate job, Madam Jin joins the Culture Society at her friend's behest and immediately falls in love with Jiang Yanli as a daughter-in-law.

After a lot of cajoling (in both directions), she gets them to agree to one date, which is a disaster (I have more headcanons about this but they won't fit in here)

Jin Zixuan has a lot of money and zero sense of proportion, which does not generally result in tasteful things. (Where Jiang Yanli is concerned, his desire to keep up a "cool" image is completely overpowered by his desire to please, so that doesn't help either. Like a golden retriever who wants people to think he's a cat.)

After they get married, Wei Wuxian sometimes thinks about the peacock's peacocking rituals, like: "It's good that he's gotten more reasonable now that they're married - no, wait, what if he hasn't gotten more reasonable, but there's just no one around to see it because they're married?!" and never gets brave enough to ask his sister about it.

After Jin Ling's birth, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (and maybe even Jin Zixuan) get locked in an ongoing battle for Jin Ling's affections. Jiang Yanli is the clear favourite, as she should be, but they all want to be #2, and their constant jostling is how he ends up with no chill despite being raised by one calm mum and one aloof (but secretly disaster) dad

But because Jiang Yanli is around, he's very polite about it: the kind of kid who barrels in screaming blue murder, skids to a halt and says "Auntie", and then tears out screaming blue murder again

Wei Wuxian tones it down a lot after he and Lan Wangji adopt A-Yuan because he’s got better things to do, but it’s still A Thing (during visits, A-Yuan spends a lot of time in Auntie Yanli’s lap being gently fed things while his dad and shushu yell at each other over the top of his cousin’s head)

Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli

Initially brought together by their brothers, they now meet up for regular, peaceful, wholesome tea-dates where they discuss the lives of their mutuals and gently exchange advice (and strategies on how to keep their angry-angry parent/proxy-parent's blood pressure down.

Whereas Jiang Cheng gets closer to coughing up blood with every year that passes by without Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji getting their shit together, Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli take the more optimistic view of "Look at how well-prepared we are, we've just run another year ahead of schedule!"

Dinner Crew

Jiang Cheng has been the unwilling audience to years of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s bullshit.

If asked, he would say: “And you wonder why I’m so angry?! What do you mean ‘dating’, you’ve been fucking married for the last five years!” but no one ever does :’D

Every so often, he thinks about how happy their sister is about the dating situation because she doesn’t know that it’s fake, and he grinds his teeth because why can’t he also not-know!?

To this, Nie Huaisang says, “If we didn’t know we couldn’t help!”

And Jiang Cheng replies, “WE’RE NOT HELPING ANYWAY, LOOK AT HIM!!!”

Meanwhile, Jiang Yanli continues to gush about how happy she is for Wei Wuxian and all Jiang Cheng can do is laugh really unnaturally because he has to “Be strong, Jiang Cheng! Be strong for A-jie! ╥﹏╥”

He goes to read the comments on the Society Facebook after the fujoshi conversation, and gets so angry at all these people who are like “Ah, their love is so beautiful!” that he has to uninstall his Facebook app, and go and shout into a cupboard somewhere.

The non-Wei-Wuxian members of the dinner group have set up a separate chat to act as a support group, where they all go to:

Wail and gnash their teeth after Wei Wuxian does something particularly dumb

Scheme ways into getting Wei Wuxian to get a clue

Console one another when someone’s brave attempt at getting Wei Wuxian to face the truth fails miserably (because while they play by the rules of ‘what a normal human would do’, Wei Wuxian lives by the principle of ‘lol norms are for losers’.)

Relatedly: for every resigned Nie Huaisang face or enraged Jiang Cheng face that Wei Wuxian notices, there are at least three desperate-yet-silent exchanges that he doesn’t.

Wen Ning is always really optimistic about it, nodding encouragingly like “He’s gonna get it - he’s gonna get it! - oh no, he’s not gonna get it. Oh. Oh no. Ó╭╮Ò��

Wen Ning always has at least one small child hanging off him at all times when he’s at the Cultural Centre because they know he can always be bullied into playing with them and they think he’s great.

Past bullshit dinner group projects have included Getting Jiang Cheng a Date and Making a Picture out of Jin Guangyao’s Forehead Dot While He’s Sleeping

(In re the forehead dot, they end up settling for making it bigger every time he nods off during a movie night at Nie Huaisang’s house, and Nie Mingjue comes home to what’s basically a Japanese flag on Jin Guangyao’s forehead and is like ಠ_ಠ)

Future dinner group projects include providing Wei Wuxian with support for Grand Plans like Getting Along with Uncle Qiren and providing Jiang Cheng with unwanted support for things like Workshopping Jiang Cheng’s List of Partner Requirements

A-Yuan

After A-Yuan’s adoption, Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren redouble their efforts in Can we divorce an in-law?! because although they couldn’t save themselves from being related to Jin Guangyao, for their PRECIOUS BOY--

Therefore, when A-Yuan is five or six and starts to sound out how he’s related to people and why:

A-Yuan: So if Jin-yeye is Uncle Guangyao’s dad, then that makes him my-

Wei Wuxian: NOTHING!

Lan Qiren (springing up from the other side of the room): NOTHING!

Lan Xichen: lol

At around about this same time, Wei Wuxian, who is never gonna stop trolling Lan Qiren about ruzhui until the day he dies, runs A-Yuan through the “You see, my son, my family is not so well-to-do, and since your Uncle married into the Nie family-” talk, and then proceeds to reference it at every opportunity:

1: Despite A-Yuan almost certainly not asking, and

2: despite (/especially because of) Lan Qiren shouting “DON’T TEACH HIM WEIRD THINGS!” in the background.

(Lan Wangji probably lets it happen or encourages it because he thinks it’s funny)

#CQL #The Untamed #Wangxian #陈情令 #魔道祖师 #mo dao zu shi #not-fic

628 notes · View notes

kiwi-bitchez · 4 years

Note

Can you do a frat Tom story, where he’s a cocky player and y/n hates him? One day, they get stuck at the campus laundromat together, so they start talking and Tom is actually funny and nice. Y/N lets her guard down and they start kissing. And then Tom takes advantage of the moment and his cocky side turns back on and he starts dominating. He takes her to the back and makes her get on her knees to blow him and he makes her gag for him and he's boasting and dirty talking.

Rinse and Spin

OOF This suggestion is HOT. Thank you!!! Honestly this had me sweating. I tried my best! Requests/suggestions are always open!

Summary: basically above, you and tom get stuck in the laundry room together and some smutty fun ensues. College!AU, Frat!Tom, Lowkey enemies to lovers

Warnings: Smut, mentions of alcohol, mostly smut, it’s all smut.

College was an exciting new chapter for you. Last year when you started school you were bright eyed and bushy tailed for all the new possibilities and independence that college brings. Living on your own, studying at your own pace, meeting new people, it all excited you.

However after a few semesters had gone by the excitement slowly wore off and you fell into a regular routine. You didn’t dislike school by any stretch, but you have always been keen on seeing things as they truly are.

One of the aspects of college that had really excited you was the idea that everyone would shed their immaturity from high school and grow up quickly. You hoped to meet people who took school seriously and didn’t have that unattractive immaturity that so many high school boys had.

This was all a fantasy in your head of course. There were still many people who disrespected professors, slept through all their classes, and acted like sixteen year olds who had been finally let loose from their parents. You assumed the freedom and expectations of college would cause everyone to grow up, but a girl can only dream.

The worst was Tom Holland. You had been partnered with him last semester for a group project and he lives up to all your expectations of a typical asshole frat boy.

He never bothered to learn your name, just calling you “babe” or “love” in that cocky way that probably worked on some girls, but not you. You ended up doing most of the project yourself because the idea of meeting up with him outside class seemed unbearable.

After that it was like you couldn’t stop running into him. At parties, in class, at the coffee shop, he was like an irritating bug that you couldn’t seem to squash.

He was the type of guy who loved being the center of attention. It came as no shock to you that he was the president of some stupid frat on campus, the one that threw the biggest parties. In your eyes frat boys had nothing filling their heads other than cheap beer and objectifying women. You tried your best to stay away from them, but did get dragged to the occasional party.

You had luckily found a group of friends that lived up to your expectations of mature college students, they were funny and smart and you were lucky to have them. The area you weren’t so lucky with was dating. You had a few hookups at parties but nothing worth writing home about, and most of the boys you met either bored you or fell into the asshole frat boy category.

You look around your small dorm room and decide to straighten some things up. You had finished all your assignments and your friends didn’t get out of class for a few hours, so this seemed like the perfect time to do some laundry.

You toss your dirty clothes into your hamper and head down to the communal laundry room in the basement. You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, some loose shorts and a t-shirt sans bra, you figured you’d be back in your room soon enough.

The door was open a crack, so you slip in and put down your heavy hamper next to an open washing machine. You notice someone sitting across the room out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t unusual for students to wait for their laundry to finish.

However, the creeping feeling in your stomach, the way the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end gave away quickly who the figure was. Ugh, Tom. He had headphones on and seemed to be minding his business, so you hoped you could get your laundry in and leave before he noticed you and said some snarky remark.

That was the thing about Tom, you were one of the only girls who didn’t buy into his smooth accent and pretty face. You would call him out for his bullshit and tell him he’s a creep whenever he made a pass at you. You could tell he liked it though, the back and forth of you telling the other how much you despised them, he liked that you could dish it back.

You manage to get your clothes into the washer, but quickly realize that you left your laundry card upstairs. You dig around your wallet for some quarters, coming up with just the right amount. Jamming them into the busted machine you quickly lose hope of them working, realizing you’d have to go back up for your card.

“Need some help there sweetheart?” Tom asks from across the room.

Your hope of going unnoticed was shattered. Taking in a deep breath you roll your eyes and turn around to face him.

“No thanks sweetheart, machine won’t take my quarters,” you quickly turn back around, hoping that would be the end of the interaction.

You start to gather your things to head back upstairs when you notice that he’s left his spot and is walking up behind you.

“Here just use mine,” he holds his card out.

“No thanks Holland, not taking any favors from you.”

“Really, it’s no biggie,” he taps the card against the sensor in the machine and pays the $1.25 for your load, “it’s the least I can do after you got me that A on the bio project last semester.”

You were surprised that he even remembered that. You hold out your handful of quarters to pay him back.

“I don’t want your coins,” he chuckles.

“Well you certainly aren’t getting anything else from me,” you head towards the door, not knowing what to make of that interaction.

You needed the laundry card to swipe the door open, and it had been open a crack when you had come in.

“Hey,” you turn back around, “mind lending me that again so I can open the door?”

He runs up beside you and presses the card against the sensor, getting a little closer to you than you would have liked. The monitor turned red and starts blinking, indicating the card wasn’t working.

He tries again, “Strange, worked just a second ago.”

“Stop fucking with me Tom,” you grab the card from his hand, but it doesn’t work when you try either.

“Why do you always doubt me,” he takes the card back and examines it, “it’s not like I want to be stuck in here with you either.”

“Did you have the card near your phone?” you ask.

He realizes he had put the card back into the wrong pocket after paying for your laundry. The cheap cards are sensitive to technology and can get messed up if they get too close to a phone.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “oh my god, of course you’re the type of person who doesn’t put a case on their phone,” you roll your eyes again at him.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait here with me until someone else can buzz us out.”

“Damn I better start screaming for help then.”

He lets out a chuckle and returns to his seat on top of one of the dryers. You might as well take a seat too, it may be awhile before someone comes to release you from this hell. You hop up onto one of the dryers across the room from him, desperately wishing you had your phone or anything to distract you.

“Cute shirt,” he comments.

“Shut up,” you realize he was probably commenting on how you weren’t wearing a bra.

“No, I mean it,” he sounded a little hurt, “that band is really cool.” Referencing the band logo on your tee.

You give him an inquisitive look, trying to read his motives.

“Last summer I worked security at a small concert venue downtown, got into a lot of cool shows for free.”

You would usually take this as him bragging, but he actually seemed interested in talking to you. He told you about some of the shows he worked at and you told him about the music festival you had gone to.

After talking like civilized humans for a while he decides to ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the hem of your shirt that you had been fiddling with.

“It just seems like you hate me and you don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you well enough to know that we don’t get along.”

“That’s not true at all, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He got up from his spot and moved closer to you.

“I guess I just don’t want to bother getting to know some egotistical frat boy who thinks every girl wants his dick, you’re just like the rest of them. Even worse, you’re their freaking leader! What do you want me to know about you huh? How much beer you can chug? How many girls you’ve fucked? I’m not interested.”

“Wow, harsh,” he was actually a little hurt by your comment, but kept the smug grin plastered on his face.

“See, you’re not even listening to me. You just smile and nod until a girl opens her legs for you, so move on cuz I’m not buying it.”

“Oh, you think you’re so high and mighty because you stay cooped up in your dorm room studying like the perfect fucking princess you are,” his tone was mocking, “some of us manage to have fun and get good grades, you’re not special, doll, you’re just a buzzkill. I bet you’ve never even been to one of our frat parties.”

“I’ve been to a few,” you mumble defensively.

“So what, maybe it’s all kegs and tits some of the time, but we also do a lot of really cool stuff too.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We do a lot of charity type shit around campus, hosting events and stuff.”

“Charity type shit,” you mocked him.

“Last semester we did this event where we set up these big tables and just handed out free dildos and condoms and lube,” he started explaining.

“Wow, so charitable, your frat gives out free sex toys to get girls attention, sorry I ever questioned you Mother Theresa.”

“Hey, let me finish,” he puts up his hands, “we were petitioning against campus gun laws. We were trying to make a statement about how some sex toys are against campus rules but there are no gun laws.”

“Oh,” you felt really stupid, “that actually is pretty cool.”

“See, you always are so judgy, if you just listened to me for three seconds then maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much. You just jump to conclusions about people before even talking to them.”

“I guess,” you turn to him, now sitting next to you on the dryer, “Sorry.”

“See, I like cool music and dildos too, we aren’t so different you and I,” you still wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

“You don’t know that about me,” you say flatly.

“Okay well I do know that you are into that one band,” he gestures to your t shirt, “and you are really good at bio… and you do your laundry at weird times of the day…”

You turn to him and lower your eyes, giving him an exasperated look.

“And I know that you like coconut milk in your coffee, and you always get those chocolate pastry things…”

Your eyes widen a little, realizing how closely he must have paid attention to you to pick up on those things. You let your guard down for a second, giving him the benefit of the doubt for once.

“And I know that you look really good in just your pajamas,” he nudges your side, “and I know that… you have really pretty eyes…”

His eyes meet yours, and you suddenly felt so vulnerable.

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I’m just telling you things that I know to be facts,” he whispers too, his face was very close to yours, and strangely you didn’t mind.

Your mind went a little fuzzy as you stared into his coffee colored eyes, no longer trying to read him and just appreciating their color. A magnetic pull drew your face to his, almost like something you couldn’t have stopped even if you had wanted to. Before you could even realize it, your lips were firmly planted on his, hands frantically coming up to the sides of his face.

Tom would be completely lying if he said he knew this would happen. He hadn’t been trying to win you over, smooth talk you like he did to other girls. The two of you had just been having a normal conversation.

He was taken aback because rarely was he the one being kissed, usually he was the initiator. It only took seconds before he kissed you back, lips moving in synchronicity with yours. Your tongues connected harshly and angrily. He couldn’t tell if you liked him or still hated him, but by the way you felt in his mouth he didn’t care.

Your eyes flutter open, mind finally processing your actions. You harshly pull back, hands quickly moving away from his face and grabbing down onto the edge of the dryer. Your eyes grew wide and a look that could be mistaken for terror flashed across your face.

“Um- I…,” your tongue felt dry and heavy in your mouth, like you were suddenly having an allergic reaction to what you had just done.

You couldn’t come up with anything to say, and before you could his lips were on yours again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck, tongue moving over yours quickly resuming where you had left off.

Neither one of you could reason why this was happening, but it felt too right to care. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, ignoring how crazy and stupid and strange you felt. Suddenly you were leaning back, letting him pin you down against the cold metal beneath you. His hands gripped your sides with purpose and certainty, something you hadn’t ever felt from someone.

His teeth lightly graze your lower lip, pulling it slightly from your mouth. You let out an unexpected whimper, it was quiet and quick but you were sure he had heard. He did. It drove him fucking crazy.

He felt your body writhe underneath him, back arching slightly as his hands slid up your sides. Quickly realizing that the top of a washing machine was not the best place for this, he lifts you up, moving you so you were now straddling his lap.

A small gasp escaped you, surprised at how his strong arms swooped you up so easily. You let your whole body weight sink down onto his lap, pressing your chest tightly against his. Now it was his turn to let out a groan that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

He somehow slides off the machine and stands up, keeping you wrapped up against his torso. He moved with purpose across the small room, slipping into the small back room where no one could see you.

You were lost in the movement of the kiss when you feel your back firmly press against the wall, his body leaning into yours, the kiss getting hotter and wetter. You involuntarily roll your hips towards him, searching for some friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he groans into your mouth.

The way he looked at you like a hungry animal made your breath catch in your throat. His mouth moved to your neck and he buried his head there, kissing and sucking at your soft skin. The haze in your mind cleared for a second of clarity and you spoke with more conviction,

“I refuse to be one of your sexual conquests, Holland,” you continued to roll your hips against his, “You don’t get to tell everyone you fucked some nerdy girl in the laundromat.”

“Our secret,” he moves back to your lips, “but I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” your voice shrunk to a whisper.

One of his hands comes up to your chin, angling your head so he has full access to your neck. His tongue works against your pulse point as his hands come down to your things. Your shorts were a thin material, and he could easily feel you through them.

He squeezes your upper thighs, slowly moving up to your hips, pulling you into him.

“Tell me what you want,” your eyes roll back as his hands creep towards your dripping center, “tell me where to touch you.”

“Please,” you felt pathetic, but you press your hips further, trying to make contact with his hand, “I need you to touch me.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, moving up to your damp underwear.

“Is this all for me?” he says, almost mockingly, “I did this to you?”

You could only moan into his mouth as his fingers slipped into your underwear and moved against your wet folds. You tried to grind into his hand, but his grip on your hip kept you firmly planted against the wall.

“You act like you hate me, but you’ve been dripping for me this whole time haven’t you?”

He slipped a finger into you, curling it perfectly against your inner walls. He could feel you squeeze against him, your arousal starting to cover his whole hand. You couldn’t answer his question, rhetorical in nature, only gasp into his parted lips as he added a second finger.

He lowers his head to nip at your chest through your thin t-shirt, teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric. You manage to slip out of it, still pressed against the wall, legs shaky under you.

His mouth comes down to attack your chest with bites and hickeys as he continues pumping his two long fingers into you, thumb moving tight circles on your clit. You were slightly embarrassed at how quickly you felt your climax nearing. You had always thought of him as a cocky player, but at least this boy knew exactly what he was doing.

You moan out his name with a slew of profanities, eyes closing tightly. His lips move up to your ear, speaking directly to you as you start to shake under him,

“What is it?” his tone was arrogant and knowing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come soon,” you squeak out.

“I’m going to make you come,” his hand suddenly moving faster and harder.

“Mmmhh, yes Tommy, you’re making me feel so fucking good.”

“I want you to come on my fingers, and then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with those pretty lips of yours.”

Your moans were getting higher pitched, his words only intensifying how good he was making you feel.

“I bet you’d like that huh. You wanna feel my cock in your mouth?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling yourself tip over the edge with a cry of his name. His thumb moved quickly against your clit, fingers plunging a little deeper as he felt you contract around him.

You collapse forward, grabbing onto his shoulder, biting down on his skin to silence your own screams. You catch a glance at his face, that stupid cocky smirk still plastered onto him. In this moment you couldn’t bother to care, you could only focus on staying standing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

When your eyes finally came back into focus, he was pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth. His thumb brushes across your jaw, migrating to press into your lower lip. You let your mouth slip down onto his digit, your tongue pressing against his thumb.

“Look at you,” he pulls his finger back, dragging your lower lip with it, “so fucking good for me.”

You give him a wide eyed look and start making work of his belt. His cock is hard and firmly pressed against the inside of his jeans. You palm him through the thick material for a second while dealing with the button and zipper.

You sink to your knees, fulfilling his request from earlier.

“Wait, here,” he grabs a towel off of a nearby machine and places it on the ground in front of him, “for your knees, the ground is really hard.”

It made you laugh how he had been so cocky one second and thoughtful the next.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you pump the shaft of his dick, looking up at him with big eyes while bringing your tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside.

His shirt was off now too and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his body was. You had always recognized that Tom was conventionally very attractive, but suddenly he was fucking hot to you.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and watch as his head tips back, causing him to let out a groan. You take his hand and move it to your hair, giving him permission to hold it.

He twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, brushing the stray pieces back from your face. He grips tightly, pulling a little. You give him a moan and a nod, letting him know it was okay to pull harder.

He moves your head back and forth to meet your movements, hips moving slightly in the process. You gag a little as he hits the back of your throat, but continue bobbing your head, letting him slide down your throat a little every so often.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me, gagging on my cock,” he tightens his grip on your hair, “taking me so well.”

The sight of you on your knees for him, lips wrapped perfectly around his shaft sent shivers down his spine. He watched attentively as his cock slid in and out of your mouth, your saliva leaving a wet trail around his length. What killed him was when you would look up at him through your eyelashes, big doe eyes begging him to fuck your face.

You dare to move south, taking one of his balls in your mouth as you continue jerking him off. You moan into him as he pulls your hair, vibrations adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck y/n, you’re fucking dirty aren’t you?” He was a little surprised at how aggressive you were taking him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

“I bet you’ve thought about this before, being a good girl on your knees for me, taking what I give you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, letting his hips do the work. You surely had never thought about him in this way before, that he was wrong about, but you surely would be thinking about sucking his dick all the time from now on.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, swelling a little at the feeling of your tongue. You knew he was close by his grip on your hair and his hip movements. You take him deep down your throat, sucking and lapping up his shaft.

“I’m gonna come y/n,” he warns you, although you already knew.

You continue to suck vigorously, swallowing his come and continuing to suck on him until his legs are shaking a little under your grasp. He lets go of your hair, which messily falls down around you. You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, admiring your work as it was red and twitching.

Tom slumps down against the wall and sits on the floor, meeting you at eye level. You look at him for a second, unable to read his reaction. You knew he liked it by the noises he had been making, but he sat across from you running his hands through his hair.

“What the fuck was all that.”

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you say defensively, “You seemed to like it.”

“Well yeah, you seemed to like it too,” he retorts, “actually, you seem to like it much more than most girls like sucking cock in my experience.”

“What can I say, you have a pretty dick.”

“Only pretty cuz it fits in your mouth so well.”

What were you doing? Was this flirting? You stand up and shake yourself off, walking over to where your clothes had been discarded. You start to slip your underwear back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tom jokes, also getting up from the floor.

“Someone could walk in, plus I have to switch my laundry, gonna need your card again by the way.”

“This is some kind of fucked up trade off if you ask me,” he jokes.

“Still hate me?” He quips, always cocky.

“Jury’s still out,” you start to move your clothes into the dryer, “I’m gonna need to see more of what you have to offer before I decide.”

“Well, the dryer takes about an hour and I was hoping to make you come a few more times. Wanna see that pretty look on your face again.”

You sit up on top of the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

#tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #smut #marvel smut #college!au #enemies to lovers #ask #suggestion #frat!tom #fratboy!tom #frat!tom holland

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masterhandss · 4 years

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Hamefura Idol AU! (part 2)

Here’s a completely unrelated Katarina idol art by @Sangotofura on twitter!

This is a continuation of my first post, the one that is more of an overview of the original FL game and the original descriptions of the characters. I don’t know if I want to write a story for this, since again this is just an excuse to draw, but I’m really having fun with expanding the alternate version of the world of hamefura.

It’s a lot of fun to rewrite hamefura’s story to fit in an idol setting, so I hope you guys don’t mind if I write a bit more for my dumb au dhjgfjs

More tidbits about the ‘Game’:

The game’s name, Fortune Lover: Cinderella Idol! or “Fortune Lover”, is read as “for-tune lover” by the fans (get it? tune?? pls laugh). The ‘F’ of the name is written as a fortissimo.

In the setting for Fortune Lover, the entertainment industry is the biggest industry of all time, with music being the most popular form. It has been like this for decades, and as time progressed, people’s tastes and expectations of music evolved, leading to the creation and popularity of idols.

Idol-Producers are a new project that is testing the capabilities of a idol teen, observing how their involvement in their own success can impact how they manage their time and how they can bring the absolute best out of themselves, on their own. Maria is the first idol who will be testing this new style. She is still a producer to herself, the boys, and even Sophia and Mary if you choose to have them join you. Despite being an idol, they still call Maria their “producer” and treats her like one.

The characters in the game are in 3D CG, as the game includes the dance choreography or “MV Mode” if you perfect the score of the rhythm game.

While Katarina’s bullying isn’t really death threatening, it’s more in line with the petty kind like verbal threats, sabotaging Maria’s idol clothes and stage equipment, paying someone to mess up her tracks during performances, badmouthing her infront of tv show producers and hosts, and stuff like that.

Katarina’s bullying isn’t as bad as it is in the original otome game, but she gets shunned by the public because behavior like that is only supposed to be done behind the curtains. The public has such a pure and honest perception of idols that they never think of the idea that the girls who smile and sing on stage actually try to stab each other in the back when the stage lights are off. Some people think that Katarina’s character is just a persona, so knowing that she is actually an ignorant and arrogant rich girl idol-wannabe, her fans lose respect for her. Katarina’s harassment of Maria is one of the few cases that are brought to light by the end of the game, and because of how much the public loves Maria by that point, they are enraged by Katarina’s behavior, making her lose support on all sides

Katarina had been in love with Gerald ever since they were children, and while Gerald has always been a popular boy among both his peers, when she found out Gerald was going to be an idol, she disliked the idea of sharing her beloved Gerald to a huge audience of people, so she became an idol to stand alongside him and to make herself worth of him by charming him as as an idol and gaining a large following herself. Despite this, Katarina didn’t strive too hard to be a talented idol, as she was too confident on herself due to the pampering of her parents.

Even if the player doesn’t desire to romance any of the four boys, given how the game is written and how it is programmed, the boy with the highest relationship points with Maria will confess to her by the end of the game. It would be impossible to not interact and gain points with the boys, as you gain relationship points in most areas of the games (when you “practice” your characters, when you “play” their songs, when you “give” them new clothes, when you “converse” with them in story mode, etc.). In the event that there are two characters with the exact same amount of points, the game will choose a boy for you.

Sorcier Pro.’s current president is Geoffrey Stuart (for reasons that will make sense someday)

Katarina-Gerald and Mary-Alan aren’t engaged in this au, but are constantly in each other’s presence due to most powerful bussinessmen and celebrities being good friends with each other.

Each girl has a specialty in a certain area: Katarina with dancing, Sophia with singing, Mary with acting/drama, and Maria (according to the official description of her in the box) with fashion coordination. Maria can be seen as more of a jack of all trades though, as she does represent the player.

While any of the boys can trigger the condemnation event that will lead to Katarina’s social suicide, the event is specifically associated with Keith and Gerald due to the severity of her presence and bullying if you have high relationship points with the two. With Alan and Nicole, Katarina’s event only happens for a few lines, but for Keith and Gerald, it takes place in complete detail, with it’s own animated cutscene.

Gerald’s route is also the most popular among the fans, with community surveys reporting that 53% of the game’s player base had Gerald as their final chosen love interest ( 25% with Keith, 12% with Nicol and 10% with Alan)

Monkey Girl/Past-Life Katarina

Since Maria’s name can’t be change in the game, but you can give her a “nickname” that represents the username of the player, Past-life Katarina’s name in the game is “SaruP” (or “Monkey producer” lol)

Saruchan (Monkey Girl) dies before she could finish her playthrough of the game, and all of her knowledge is based on her idol-expert best friend Acchan. She’s a bit tomboyish, and she loves to climb trees and move freely without a hint of poise or shyness, and is friendly to all genders. Her love for climbing, running, gardening with her grandma, and never ending amounts of energy gave her a pretty strong, flexible, agile and energetic body.

In Saruchan’s world, idols do exist, but aren’t portrayed in the cutesy and exaggerated manner that fiction does. Though it’s no surprise to know that in her world, almost every girl had dreamed to become an idol at one point, even herself. Acchan doesn’t find the idea interesting though, as she only lives for the idealized version of idols that exist in fiction. Acchan explains that girls their age are being brainwashed by the idealized version of idols that are presented in the media that they consume, and that they should wake up and learn to enjoy the fictional idols as they are. Despite Acchan’s realistic disapproval of idol fantasies, she does love playing idol rhythm games and gacha games, and spends her allowance on getting DLC costumes for Maria in FL. Acchan even pre-ordered tickets for herself and Saruchan for an idol concert featuring the VA of the characters, that they were supposed to attend to on the day that Saruchan dies.

She dies the game way: on her way to school and being killed by a truck that runs her over.

The last thing Saruchan sees before she loses consciousness forever is the wallpaper of the game’s boxart from her phone screen as it flies out of her hands.

My Next Life as an ‘Idol’?? All Routes Lead to Doom!!!

As usual, Katarina ends up remembering her future as an 8 year old kid, and plans to prepare for her future “banishment” and humiliation. She learns to farm in order to provide for herself once she gets shunned and retreats to the countryside, and (unknowingly) meets all the characters in the game and gains their good favor before the events of the game begins.

Her head bump still happens with Gerald, but their encounter happened in a party rather than an engagement meeting, with her tripping over a rock as she decides to run to the young man in order to introduce herself. Such introductions never got past beyond their names and few exchanges of dialogue, as the bump occurred and Katarina was immediately brought to the hospital after he called for help.

Being a girl who wanted to be an idol at one point, Katarina wanted to use this chance to fulfill her dream of becoming one! But knowing the fate that will await her, (public humiliation, isolation, and banishment to some degree) she tries to figure out ways to avoid ruining her future.

While not as bad as death, Katarina is aware that the ending of the game implies that the blemished opinion that everyone will gain of her will lead to her leading a miserable life; one that will prevent her from gaining new allies and even studying in peace without being made fun of or called out for. It might even ruin her marriage prospects, for all she knows (it doesn’t but she’s too stupid to know that). The stakes of the bad ending aren’t life threatening, but it is personal, as Katarina always dreamed of becoming an idol as a teen and doesn’t like the idea of being able to enjoy it for a few months only to be dragged down to hell right afterwards.

The Claes is a wealthy family known for her father’s knowledge and skills when it comes to trades and business, and for her mother’s beautiful opera singing voice and celebrity presence. As usual, Katarina’s father adopts Keith for the purpose of gaining a direct heir for the business, in fear that Katarina’s future significant other might just to interested in her to gain it.

Katarina’s plan is to learn how to farm in order to be able to support herself after her banishment, give Keith lots of love so he doesn’t end up becoming a playboy like in the game, and to train herself in dancing and singing in order to not embarrass herself like the original Katarina did. After meeting Gerald again and realizes his weakness, she eventually prepares (or buys, since the setting is modern) toy snakes that she can use to surprise him whenever the condemnation event occurs, using his shocked and panicked reaction as a way to distract the media from the claims that will surely fall upon her (since no one would have expected the calm and collected Gerald Stuart to scream like a girl at the sight of a toy snake, right? That would stay in the headlines for weeks! maybe).

As a kid, she has private singing tutors, and takes more general singing classes when she gets older. She doesn’t have dance training as a kid, but she does like to exercise and move her body around, so it slowly turned into the stamina-filled flexible body that she is used to.

Katarina and Keith - Their meeting and impressions are mostly the same, which the difference being that Katarina used a display axe above a fireplace to break down the door, and Keith got her injured by accidentally pushing her off a pretty high cliff in the Claes grounds while they were both running and playing chase (rather than being isolated for dangerous Earth Magic, Keith as a child was a clutz who attracted danger to everyone around him, making his older brothers make fun of him for being “cursed”).

Katarina showers him with love, making him affectionate towards his step sister, in the same as he was in the original material.

When Keith finds out about Katarina’s desire to train to become an idol, he is very supportive of her, and decides to train with her in order to be able to stand by his sister on stage (as well as to generally gain the same interests as her in order to guarantee that they will stay close as they age). The contrast being that instead of becoming an idol to gain the adoration of millions of nameless faces, he now wants to become an idol to gain the love and attention of a single person, which is Katarina uwu.

Katarina and Gerald - Gerald eventually attempts to visit Katarina to apologize for the incident, expecting her to blame him for what happened, given the personality she showed him. He was shocked to find a scar on her forehead, farming while wearing a farmer’s attire despite coming from a wealthy and esteemed family, singing and dancing to a song as she waters her vegetables. He watches for only a minute, unable to look away from the girl who danced like deflating balloon and sang off key while almost drowning her small vegetable in water. She looked weird, but she was having the time of her life, and he could see and hear it from where he stood.

In a daze, thinking he might have entered the wrong house by accident or walked on the daughter of a maid doing chores. He walks out and leave the Claes estate without a word, and visits again after only a few days, as he couldn’t get his mind off of the oddity that he had witnessed.

He eventually realizes that it was Katarina on his second visit, as he finds the scar of the odd farmer girl on the same girl who boasted about her family’s wealth in the party. After giving formal introductions, Gerald offers to walk around the garden to get to know each other better, in order to continue the conversation that she had originally forced on him back in the party (it was done to be polite and respectful, rather than any interest to continue). In the garden, they pass by the area that Katarina had planned to turn into her farm, and Gerald was in awe at how unorganized and messy everything looked (there was dirt everywhere, the tools were left on the floor because she had to prepare to meet him, there was more bags of manure than what was even needed etc! Katarina internally cursed at her 8 year old delicate rich girl body for not having the same arm strength as her 17 year old self). It was then that it sunk in that the adorable singing and dancing farming girl that he accidentally saw really was Katarina Claes. She wasn’t the very definition of abnormal, but she was nothing like the daughters of his father’s friends that cried when not attended to or complained when not given the best dresses and shoes. There was no shred of worry about her family’s expectations in her eyes, nor expectations of him to act like his perfect and matured self whenever they met in parties, movie premiers or social events, which made him yearn for her company.

After finding out about Katarina’s desire to become an idol one day, Gerald secretly planned to do the same (and even have her recruited in his brother’s agency) in order to become closer to her through her love of entertainment and to have a chance to be constantly in her presence. When he found out about the charms that male idols have on their female fans, he also plans on using this as an opportunity to gain both her attention and romantic affection, by perfecting his (already maxed out) charms as male idol.

Katarina and Mary - The two met during a part hosted by Mary’s mother in the Hunt Estate, inviting all of her mother’s old opera acquaintances, sponsors and co-workers for a formal reunion. Katarina and Keith accompanied their parents to the party, leading them to be introduced to the Hunt Family’s daughters. As usual, Katarina had the urge to “release the chocolate shark” during the party and takes an elegant leave. She eventually gets lost in the estate and finds herself in the garden. Katarina was in awe of the garden’s beauty, and stood still as she watched what seemed like beautiful siren sing by herself near a majestic fountain, with a single rose in hand.

Mary was surprised to hear an aggressive applause after singing to herself. Katarina aggressively complimented Mary for her adorable yet elegant voice, and asked who she was seeing as a singing trainer. When Mary replied that she was not having any singing or vocal training, Katarina rains even more compliments down, claiming that “her voice was that of an angel!”. Mary denied it, so Katarina proceeded to sing the same song that she had sang, as a point of comparison to make her feel more confident in herself. Mary shyly and unexpectedly joins her, and they ended up having a small and quiet duet in the garden. Katarina’s voice sounded a bit rough and squeak-ish, but alongside Mary’s elegant and controlled singing, they didn’t sound bad at all.

When Katarina finds out that Mary is also the one who tends to the flower garden, she proceeds to shower Mary with even more compliments, and asks her to visit and help with her own farm garden. Being complimented for having a beautiful voice and a green thumb made her feel validated and appreciated, so she often visits the Claes household in order to be in constant presence of her first and dearest friend. The rest is the same.

When Mary found out about Katarina’s dream of becoming an idol, she started taking intense vocal training as well as various exercises in order to be able to join her in her endeavor. She slowly built a more brazen and tough personality in order to be able to join and protect her friend from the rumored cold and intense reality of the idol world, as well as due to the antics of her friends.

Katarina and Alan - From Mary, she eventually finds out that the event where Mary duets and falls in love with Alan occurred. Katarina realizes that duet must not have been that effective because she has done the same with Mary, but is confident that Mary is in love with him because Alan is a very talented and handsome individual. A few days later, the fourth Stuart son bursts into the doors of the Claes household, and demands to meet with Katarina. She learns that Alan had developed a small crush on Mary, and that he wants to challenge Katarina for her hand. Same shenanigans ensues, leading up to the piano duel where his talents in the piano was in full display to everyone in the manor.

Katarina knew how to play the piano (just the basics though), so she was in awe listening to someone who almost sounded like a pro! Alan runs off after Gerald compliments him, Katarina chases after him, and they got to talk behind a bush. Alan wouldn’t take her compliments, but Katarina aggressively insisted that his talents are nothing to scoff at.

When Alan says that he’s sure that his brother can play just as good, if not better than him, Katarina speculates that it wasn’t the case, because everyone had things that they are good and bad at. Not everyone is the same, no one learns at the same pace, and that she’s sure even if Gerald can play the piano better than him (and she doubts he can in the first place), no one can play the piano like Alan can. The scores in his heart are his alone, and that nothing is more beautiful than the melody that the heart enacts. Katarina knew that the score he played wasn’t an existing one, and knowing Alan’s character from the game, it’s probably either an impromptu score or one he had composed by himself. Her guess was correct, leading Alan to be caught off guard by her compliment, almost feeling emotional as no one had ever guessed and believed that the music he played was his own, until Katarina did.

She shows off the power of the toy snake to Alan, making him laugh and see his brother in a different light. He still constantly visited Katarina for their duels, but as time progressed, he lost the affection for Mary (as he saw her as a little sister now after interacting with her in the Claes Household) that made him want to challenge Katarina. They still followed up on those challenges, for fun rather than for sport.

When he finds out about Katarina’s dream to become an idol, he is determined to join her in order to be able to compose songs and melodies that she can sing, intending to bring out the absolute best of his muse’s voice with his own music. Someone his age might not be fit to compose songs for an idol, so he intends to become one as well in order to gain a reputation as a competent composer.

Katarina and Sophia - The two meets at an afternoon party hosted by the Stuarts, as a celebration for the birthday of the twins. Katarina had to “powder her noes” after a few trips to the buffet table, and leaves Keith and Mary. She’s chased down by a dog, climbs up a tree, and accidentally watches a group of kids and older bully a small girl who sounded like she was about to cry. The same events occur, up to their second encounter in the party. Katarina accidentally quotes a line from a novel that she was reading, and after realizing that Sophia understood her reference, she asked for them to meet again in order to discuss their similar interests.

Everything is pretty much the same, the difference being that somehow idols were brought as a topic of conversation, with Sophia revealing that she is actually a huge fan of idols. Katarina, feeling reminiscent of her idol-expert best friend Acchan, tells her that she actually wants to be an idol herself and insists that Sophia tell her about everything she loves about idols. Sophia, who is surprised to also find another idol fan who is as young as her, becomes even more excited and tells her all about her love for idols: how they are able to wear such adorable outfits onstage, how they sing songs that carry so much meaning, how they carry their fan’s dreams with them when they dance and sing, how amazing it is to be able to juggle so many occupations at once, and much more.

With both love of novels and idols, Sophia constantly finds herself in the Claes Household in order to talk to Katarina about books, idols, song recommendations etc.

When Sophia was first told that Katarina wanted to be an idol, she was very supportive of her and announced herself as Katarina’s number one fan. As time passed, she realized she wasn’t just satisfied with just watching Katarina from afar, she wanted to sing and dance alongside her! She wants to use her knowledge of romance novels and idols to help make herself and Katarina the best idols to ever exist! She wants to sing on stage about her feelings: about how much she loves Katarina, idols and their beloved novels!

Katarina and Nicol - When he found out that someone had invited his little sister to a small book club, he was very wary, thinking that she was one of the many other girls who tried to use Sophia in order to become closer with him. He was shocked to realize that that was not the case, and that Katarina had barely seen him at all, and had opened his timid little sister’s heart. When Sophia asked Katarina if she found her appearance creepy, Nicol proceeds to explain further, expecting to see a hint of guilt or displeasure from Katarina Claes, only for both of them to be met with unyielding determination to have Sophia as a close friend. Sophia went home that day in tears, thankful to have found a friend who truly wanted to stick by her side.

The Claes siblings often visits their home so the girls can have their book club, even bringing Mary Hunt with them occasionally. Katarina, while looking a bit flustered, is capable of having a conversation with him without averting her eyes, which was a breath of fresh air to the countless camera crew, staff, visitors and even strangers who couldn’t look him in the eyes because how of how much of a beautiful child model he was. It all leads up to the moment where Katarina compliments him with how blessed he is to have such a beautiful and wonderful family, which contrasted against the ignorant adults who pitied him for having parents who refused to abuse the potential of his beautiful face and for not being as beautiful as their son, as well as for having a freakish looking sister.

Nicol, just like his sister, desired to constantly be in Katarina’s positive presence, and visited her often, leading them to be acquainted and friends with the entire group that Katarina enraptured.

When he found about his sister’s and Katarina’s desire to become idols, Nicol thought of doing the same, in order to be able to continue to watch over and protect both Sophia and Katarina, as well to be able to continue being close with Katarina (as their lack of similar interests and age gap might lead her away from him, but tbh that is never gonna be a problem with Katarina). He also plans to use his influence as a child model to propel Sophia and Katarina’s careers, as a way of supporting his two favorite girls.

Notes

I’m not sure how I feel about Gerald’s backstory, I might rewrite that if anyone kindly wants to critique it.

Instead of Mary’s green thumb, it’s her voice that leads her to Katarina and Alan, but I still think Sophia would still have a better singing voice than her, so both her voice and green thumbs both play a part in her character. Mary’s high pitched voice gets a bit deeper as she ages, while Sophia’s voice stays very high.

I really like the idea that rather than the original ambitions and goals that leads the harem to become idols in Fortune Lover, now it’s the effect of Katarina’s constant insistence and declarations of becoming an idol that leads to everyone doing the same. In this timeline, the harem probably wouldn’t have thought of (or planned early) becoming an idol if Katarina never brought it up.

I’m writing this at midnight again, lol, but yeah I’m not planning on writing a fanfiction for this, I guess, but I do want to have an established plot so rather than chapters, I’m just writing a full overview for fun haha

When I mentioned that Sophia loved idols, I didn’t realize that I might have accidentally implied that she was just as an idol fan as Acchan was, but with actual idols this time, so I went with :DD

I’ll touch up on Idol Katarina, Anne, Maria, Sirius/Raphael and Fortune Lover 2 in the next one.

I’m really happy that there are people who actually read my previous post and said that they liked it! Feedback and suggestions are appreciated! I still need a final name for the units so help me pls hahaha.

I’ll rewrite this post when I feel like adding/changing stuff.

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verai-marcel · 4 years

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The Light That You Shine (RDR2 Fanfic, John Marston x F!Reader, Chapter 1 of 6, 18+)

Summary: John Marston was proud to be part of the VDL Riders, a biker gang led by Dutch van der Linde, and had been with them since he had run from home at the age of 15. He and his makeshift family lived by three principles: live free, help those who need it, and punish those who deserve it. For five years, his gang was all he cared about and nothing else mattered. But then John meets you, and his priorities start to change.

Author’s Notes: Go check out @veradia’s biker AU RDR2 art for what inspired me to write this. This is a prequel to Before This Dance Is Through, so everyone is 6 years younger; John is about 20 in this story and so are you, my dear reader.

Tags: prequel fic, eventual smut, romance, drama, violence, cheesy 80s vibe even though it's 2012, modern AU, switching POVs

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

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Chapter 1 - Start at the End

Word count: 2032

“Dammit Morgan, you could’ve warned me!”

Arthur grinned as he slapped John’s back. “Well, that wouldn’t be any fun, now would it?”

The others laughed while John rubbed the back of his head, leaning down to pick up the can of beer. It looked too shaken up to open at this point, so he set it on the table and glared at his brothers. Stalking past them towards the mini-fridge, he pulled out another beer, popped it open and took a long gulp. Dressed in his favorite black leather jacket over a plain white shirt, ripped black jeans, a chain on his belt to keep his wallet from being stolen, and scuffed biker boots, John looked like he bought all of his clothes in the late 80s and never changed.

“So, what’re we doing tonight?” Javier asked, leaning against the mezzanine railing. He had his medium length hair tied up, strands of it falling from the hair tie to frame his angled face. His leather vest and his blue jeans were impeccably clean, and not a single misplaced thread was on his V-neck shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He carried his favorite combat knife in a holster on his hip, hidden under the vest, and he wore black fingerless leather gloves.

Lenny sat on the couch, his freshly polished black boots propped up on the coffee table. He looked like he didn’t quite belong in a motorcycle club, in his black pants and black T-shirt. His white cowboy hat was clean, his white blazer crisp. He had his own knife holster, concealed under his jacket.

Sean was standing behind the couch, leaning against the back of it. He wore a green headband around his shoulder length hair, fancying himself an Irish Rambo, choosing to wear a blue athletic cut T-shirt and olive green khakis. He wore his brown Timberland boots, the same ones he had since he joined the gang. They looked dirty and scuffed to hell, but they still did their job, so he had no reason to buy new ones. His green & red striped flannel was tied around his waist, hiding a knife holster.

Charles was sitting back in one of the arm chairs catty-corner to the couch. He had his long hair braided tight, the sides of his head shaved. His dark blue peacoat was open to show his black turtleneck and blue jeans. Both of his black biker boots had knife holsters with a few throwing knives.

They all looked towards Arthur, who shrugged as he looked at all of them. He had his worn cowboy hat on with his old bomber jacket over a grey shirt, faded blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it with his silver zippo lighter, breathing in and letting out a puff of smoke before he responded.

“Dutch wants us to go run security at some rich feller’s house party.”

“And how are we supposed to manage t’at? I don’t have any fine clothin’ for the occasion,” Sean groused.

“No amount of clothing can save you,” Javier joked.

Sean glared as the others laughed.

“Dutch said we just wear black polos and black jeans so we look like a security company,” Arthur said once the laughter died down.

“So. Is there an alternative motive for this job?” Charles asked.

“Of course there is,” Lenny said confidently. “There’s no way Dutch would deal with those kind of folks without a reason.”

Arthur nodded. “Word is that the rich feller has quite the car collection. We sneak in after the party while everyone’s wasted and drive a few of them outta there. Swap out the plates, get a paint job over at Hosea’s, done deal.”

“And if they have alarms or kill switches?” John asked.

“You know how to hot wire,” Arthur sniped. “You, Javier, and Lenny can deal with it.” He walked past all of them and headed down the stairs. "Meet you all back here by 6pm."

John shrugged. As they split up to prepare for the job, he looked around the small warehouse they called their biker club. Walking down the stairs, he went past their bike shop area underneath the mezzanine and paused for a moment. They had slowly built this place up from scratch, bringing in old furniture for their hang out space and tools to take care of their bikes.

And on the other side of the warehouse were two offices that had been converted into bedrooms. While the others had their own places to live, John and Arthur lived at the club, having both been orphans and taken in by Dutch. Their rooms weren’t anything fancy, just a little bit of room to sleep and store their worldly possessions. John headed to his room to take a nap.

Instead, he lay on his old mattress, staring at the ceiling. He had been with the gang for five years, since he ran away from his foster home. His mother had died six years ago from a drug overdose. When she was lucid, which wasn’t very often, she was kind, even as her eyes bled sadness at the edges; those were the memories he held onto the tightest. He didn’t even know who his father was, or if he was even still alive, but he knew that if he ever met him in person, he'd knock his lights out for leaving his mother such a wreck.

After he had been sent to foster care, his foster parents didn’t try to understand him, they only tried to mold him into what they thought a proper young man should be. So he ran away. When Dutch found him, scrounging for food in a trash can behind the warehouse, he took him in. Gave him shelter.

Then there was Arthur. He was like a big brother, taught him how to fend for himself, taught him what it meant to give more than you received, even if it came with insults and punches to the face at times.

As more outcasts joined the gang, they also became his family, his brothers. Javier, Sean, Lenny, and Charles, one by one, they all joined and quickly became an intrinsic part of his life. He’d never want for more than this.

But lately, Dutch seemed off. For the past year, John had noticed him taking bigger risks, sending them on more violent jobs, and slowly stepping away from the hands-on work, leaving it to “the younger, faster men,” as he called them. There was a tinge of blind desperation in how Dutch led them now, almost as if he wanted to push them towards something greater, but wasn’t sure what that something was.

Rolling over, he stared at the wall covered in Led Zeppelin, Eagles, and other classic rock posters. He looked at the one Metallica poster he had and smiled wryly as he remembered Arthur throwing it at him, snarling “happy fucking birthday”, and slamming his door. He later found out that Arthur had snuck into the concert, stolen a poster, and ran half a mile to get away. And all because John had whined about not being able to go that night because he was sick.

He sighed and got up. He wasn’t going to get any sleep now. Leaving his room, he tinkered with his Honda Shadow Aero, his pride and joy, until it was time to go.

***

“We certainly look dangerous,” Charles said with a hint of humor in his voice as he calmly got out of the gang’s Sprinter van.

“That’s because we are,” Javier said matter-of-factly as he hopped out next.

Everyone bounded out of the van, with John the last out. He pulled the sliding door shut and followed the others into the house, hanging back as he listened to Arthur talk with the party host about the job. He trailed behind them as they were led around the house and made mental notes about where the party goers were allowed to go and where they were forbidden.

Once they were left to their own devices, Arthur turned around. “Alright men, let’s get to work.”

***

The party was wild, the party-goers were disgusting, and at the end, half of them were drunk, and the other half were passed out.

It was almost far too easy to sneak into the garage, pick a couple cars that were not too flashy, and drive them off the premises.

As they took off down some quiet back roads to lose any would-be followers, John sat and stared out the window into the pitch black night as Arthur drove with the window rolled down, his arm hanging out the window. Lenny and Sean had taken a car while Charles and Javier had left the party earlier, driving the van to Hosea’s shop.

“Hey.”

“What.”

John scratched his beard. “Do ya think—”

“I think more than you,” Arthur interrupted.

“Dammit Arthur, I’m tryin’ to be serious here!”

“Calm your balls,” Arthur said gruffly. “Yer so easy to rile up, I can’t help it.”

John let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you think Dutch is… do you think he’s tired of this? Of the club?”

Arthur was silent for a few moments. “Why do you say that?”

“He hasn’t been around much lately. He tells us to go do these jobs that are more and more dangerous. We haven’t done a charity drive or anythin’ nice for the community in the past two years.”

“Yeah, I noticed too. I don’t know, I’m sure somethin’ will come around. Maybe he’s been busy just tryin’ to get us steady work.”

“We used to just get jobs that were just jobs. Now we always have some double crossin’ or thievin’ or some shit that could get us in serious trouble!”

Arthur was silent for a little too long.

“Arthur?”

His sigh was long and tired. “I know. I know.”

The rest of the drive was silent as they drove the two hours back to the city.

***

After they had dropped the cars off at Hosea’s car shop, Charles drove them all back to the club in the van. It was 4AM by the time they all got back, and collectively they decided to call it a night and get back together the next night. As the others took their bikes and headed to their own homes, Arthur glanced over at John, who was still silent, still thinking.

“Yer goin’ to think yerself into the ground there,” Arthur commented.

John shrugged. “I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Let’s talk to Dutch tomorrow.”

As Arthur headed back to his room, John stepped outside and leaned against the brick wall. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it with his disposable lighter, and slowly took a drag as he stared up at the twilight sky, the stars barely visible in the city. He had an itch to be out in the open again, to sleep under the river of stars like he did in the desert. Or even to be out of a city, just for a while.

John finished his cigarette and slunk back into the warehouse, crawling into bed and staring at the ceiling until the sun came up before finally passing out when even his churning thoughts could no longer keep him awake.

***

“I swear, if we have to hear one more lecture about not having enough faith…”

Arthur just shook his head as he followed John out of the convenience store, quietly drinking his soda.

“We just asked one damn thing, and he blows up at us like we’re questioning his entire existence!”

“You know how he is,” Arthur mumbled.

“I know how he was. How he is now… he ain’t the same.”

John’s statement was met with silence.

“You know I’m right,” John insisted.

Arthur let out a long sigh. “Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!” John looked away. "All I know is that things ain't the same anymore," he mumbled as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and went silent as they walked back to the warehouse.

"Well," Arthur said after a while, "It weren't us that changed, that's for sure."

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Chapter 2 coming soon!

#john x reader #john marston #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #writing #biker au #lemon fanfic #eventual smut #nsft #modern au

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heartslogos · 3 years

Text

outtakes [5]

“Well shit, Yunyun — “

“Don’t call me Yunyun. My parents don’t even call me that. Xingqiu doesn’t call me that.”

“ — you’re off the hook now,” Xinyan stares at the travesty unfolding before them. “You’re no longer the easiest target in all of Liyue. How is this guy even alive? This has to be a joke. This is on some kind of camera and we’re being filmed for our reactions. Has to be. There is no way all of this isn’t some kind of elaborate set up. That’s a professional stunt man, there’s a medical team hidden somewhere if something goes wrong, and we are watching a prank show. And Xingqiu definitely calls you Yunyun. Don’t lie.”

Chongyun fiddles with the paper wrapper of his straw, watching the chaos unfolding through the window.

“How come every time we hang out something weird happens?” He asks. “Maybe we’re the ones being secretly filmed for a reality show.”

He pauses before pulling out his phone. “There’s got to be some kind of legal documentation involved for that. You can’t just film people and put them on TV. Waivers have to be signed or something, right? You think Yanfei would know about that kind of thing or Xingqiu?”

“Both. Yanfei’s a nerd who packs in everything she can get her hands on about the law and Xingqiu is just obnoxiously knowledgeable.” Xinyan’s eyes widen. “Is that a fire truck?”

Chongyun startles when his phone starts to ring in his hands, quickly bringing it up to his ear.

“Hey, Aether.” Chongyun’s eyebrows start to raise. And keep raising. Xinyan is torn between watching Chongyun and the spectacle outside. Chongyun whacks her in the arm, eyes wide as his jaw hangs open. “Okay. Alright. Got it. I’ll do my best. I’ll let you know.”

“What?” Xinyan asks, kicking him. She’s wearing her good, thick soled boots. It probably hurts more than his hit to her arm did but Chongyun doesn’t even flinch.

Chongyun hangs up, jumping to his feet and points down to the scene below them.

“Apparently someone’s posting this all over social media. And that’s Aether’s friend.” Chongyun says, “We’ve got to go help him.”

“We?” Xinyan gapes. “We’ve got what? Chongyun, there isn’t helping that guy. Why am I even involved? We? What am I gonna do? Go down there and make a distraction with a mini concert?”

“Maybe," Chongyun snags her jacket sleeve and tugs. “Come on. Aether called us to see if we were in the area and if we could help.”

“Again. We! Who’s we?”

“Alright, he called me, but you’re here so you might as well help.”

“What would he have done if you weren’t so conveniently placed in the area?” Xinyan asks, shooting one last final look through the window before rushing to join Chongyun as they speed walk out of the cafe.

“He’d probably call dage.”

“Xiao-ge doesn’t even live in Liyue Harbor. What’s he gonna do?”

“But he knows literally everyone important who does live here,” Chongyun points out. “Aether might try to call Xiangling. She’s got a weird talent for unexpectedly being in the right place at the right time.”

“I feel like I’m the only one who hasn’t met Aether. How did I miss this guy?”

Chongyun shrugs. “That’s what you get for being popular everywhere but here.”

“Hey! I am a rising star here. I’m just much more appreciated elsewhere. Tell me about this walking train wreck of a guy.”

“His name is Bennett, um. I think he’s in training to be a paramedic or something? I’m not sure. He helped Aether when Aether moved to Mondstadt while his sister went abroad,” Chongyun answers. “And he’s got wicked bad luck. Crazy bad.”

“Maybe your parents should help host an exorcism for him.”

“We’ll see.”

Just before Chongyun and Xinyan can leave the shopping center and enter the street there’s a loud squealing sound. Chongyun throws his arm out in front of her, feet shifting into some kind of martial arts stance. They both gape as a whole car skids out of control and slams into the sidewalk barrier a mere three or so yards from the shopping center’s doors.

Xinyan turns to stare at Chongyun and his one raised fist.

“Were you gonna fight a skidding car?”

Chongyun’s ears turn pink. “Shut up. It’s training. I sense danger and I move.”

“Now what do we do?” Xinyan asks. The crowd on the sidewalk is already gathering to help the driver and whatever passengers are in the car, phones coming out to call for emergency services.

“Another exit?” Chongyun suggests. And then they both jump, turning around at the sound of some sort of loud pop. “Oh, no way. Isn’t that too much?”

“Shit bud, wish it was,” Xinyan says, staring. “Apparently not, though.”

The decorative fountain in the middle of the shopping center’s entryway seems to have…exploded. Or at least the pipes have because now it’s gushing water straight up towards the ceiling and causing the water to splatter everywhere. People are yelling, shop keepers and attendants are rushing to close their doors or lower their steel shutters. The poor hawkers and vendors who don't have a permanent shop are diving to scoop up their goods and pack up their temporary stalls.

“How bad is this guys luck that it’s pouring over into this?” Xinyan asks. “What did he do in his past life? Murder his own parents? How is he not banned from leaving his house or something?”

“Maybe it’s because his karma could sense we were trying to go help him.” Chongyun pulls out his phone. “I’m going to tell Aether he might as well ask someone else for help.”

“Chongyun giving up on helping someone?”

“I’m not giving up. I’m being realistic. What’s next? A power outage?”

“Dude. Don’t tempt fate like that. Maybe it really will be a power outage next.” Xinyan tugs Chongyun into motion. “Come on. We’ve got to find our way around that busted fountain and I’m not looking forward to it.”

#heartsfic #genshin impact

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choonlo · 5 years

Text

Hey ⑇ p.js

a park jisung oneshot

genre : fluff

wc : 4k

The screams got noticeably louder when a familiar tune began to play from the speakers.

A bead of sweat trickled from the side of your forehead down to your neck as you desperately tried to fan yourself with your hands. Joined by a few other fans, the six members of NCT Dream were in the middle of the crowd, dancing to their latest song, "Boom". You hadn't expected this to happen—actually, none of the people here had, not even the host of the occasion. It was merely a coincidence, you thought. For Korean idols to appear and eventually join this random K-Pop dance event was something out of a fangirl's dream, your dream, and everyone else's for that matter.

As you rapped Jaemin's lines along with the crowd, you let your eyes take in as much of your bias as you could. Park Jisung was indeed just a few meters away from you. Hell, you hadn't had the chance to go to concerts your whole life, but guess what? Your very first one was free, and it was better than those VIP seats that you couldn't afford with the five bucks you called your "savings".

It was hot. It felt like the sun's rays were stabbing your skin, and the heat from being squished in the middle of the cluster of sweaty bodies certainly didn't help either. You ignored the pounding in your head and focused on Jisung who was now dancing to Chewing Gum. The corners of your lips twitched upward. It's been years since the song was released, and you could still remember the curly hair that had brought you into the fandom.

Despite the obvious changes from 2016 Jisung and the present, you could still feel the childlike innocence that radiated from him, the absolute cuteness that caught your eye when you first watched their debut video.

Minutes passed, and they were finally done. The host was now talking to the group, thanking them as each of the members took their turn in shaking his hand. Most of the people were filming the moment, wanting to have something to remember the experience with. You would've been doing the same, but you weren't. It didn't occur to your mind that you should've been doing something like taking a picture, of recording a video on your phone. Instead of doing any of these, you screamed.

"I LOVE YOU PARK JISUNG!"

You had screamed at the top of your lungs, your shrill voice piercing through and drowning out every other noise. Silence suddenly existed in the busy area you were in thanks to you, and you hadn't noticed what you'd done until Jisung's eyes locked with yours.

Actually, all eyes were on you, but it was as if you and Jisung were the only ones there, as cliché as it sounded. Was it mentioned that you were wearing a shirt with Jisung's name and face imprinted on it? And that your backpack was embedded with NCT enamel pins, half of them being, again, Jisung's face. Well, now you remembered.

Finally, you snapped out of your trance and slapped a hand over your mouth, face flushing when you realised the amount of attention being directed to you. A few people started laughing, giggling, whatever. Some went "aww" at your adorable reaction. This made you look down at your feet, and because you did so, you failed to see how Jisung's cheeks reddened, too.

Having finished your grieving session, you walk down the stairs to grab a glass of water, phone in hand. You've been wailing in your room for the past few hours, and you basically let your heart out as your parents weren't home yet. But you were probably loud enough that your neighbours may have thought of calling the police, which they thankfully hadn't.

"Legit, I wouldn't be surprised if Jisung has a fanboy crush on you right now," Kim clicked her tongue, her voice seemingly laced with excitement.

Videos of NCT Dream's appearance earlier had started to circulate the internet, not one from any of the social media platforms you used didn't have at least ten posts about the afternoon event downtown.

Of course, that wasn't what had gotten you riled up.

There were clips dedicated to you, most having your face clearly shown in them. Notifications from your phone blew up the moment you got home, friends and strangers spamming you with messages, and you weren't surprised that some even had threats.

Apparently, a lot had seen how Jisung reacted, and some speculations of you being someone more than a fan began to spread across the whole fandom. Oh boy, how you wished.

"Um, no," you retorted, placing the glass on the coaster as you plopped yourself onto the couch. "Did you even see my face in those videos? I looked like crap! Jisung probably felt embarrassed!"

"That's not the overly confident Y/N I know," Kim laughed through the phone. You roll your eyes at her comment. "You looked cute! Like, you looked haggard as fuck, but it was the pretty type of haggard!"

"What does that even mean?" You were annoyed, but you couldn't help but laugh at her statement. "This isn't a fanfiction, Kim."

She groaned, "Oh shut up, ten bucks to you if you don't get involved with NCT's Jisung within a month."

"Are you serious?" you replied, enthused. "You do know that I'm totally winning that bet?"

"Yeah, sure." As she spoke, you heard your phone emit a soft ring from the coffee table. You lean forward from the couch to peak at the screen, there was a notification from your social media, someone had just sent you a message.

"Was that yours?" Kim asked. Your response was a mere hum as you took the device into your hand. It was from a user whose name was literally "akzkjzjsj", and you almost ignored it if it weren't for Kim's comment; "I bet it's Jisung."

Squinting, you saw how the person's icon was a picture of the ceiling, nothing else but a light bulb in the image, like it had been taken just now for a one time use.

akzkjzjsj

: hey

Curious, you were. It didn't seem like a bot. Maybe the person would give you threats, too? It made sense, as it was an account that had just been made.

PJiuwusuwung

: whats up?

akzkjzjsj

: do u know nct

You scoffed, wasn't that already obvious? Ignoring Kim's voice, you typed in a reply.

PJiuwusuwung

: this is legit a jisung fan account ur talking to

akzkjzjsj

: ok

: can we meet up tomorok?

: tomorrow*

PJiuwusuwung

: um what i dont even know u???

akzkjzjsj

: that dog cafe downtown tom at 3 pm

: Nthnkzs (:

Your eyebrows furrowed. "What?" you let out a confused noise, beginning to type once again.

PJiuwusuwung

: wtf !

: what makes u think i'll go !

: hEllo? !

Noticing that your messages weren't sending, you clicked on the person's icon. A wry laugh bubbled from your throat, the person had blocked you. You exited the application and placed the phone back onto the small table.

"Are you done ignoring me?" Kim's irritated voice made you sigh. "What happened? Wait! Don't tell me Jisung actually contacted you."

"No, it wasn't him," you began, "Some guy—or girl, just asked to meet up tomorrow at that dog cafe we go to a lot. And guess what? The asshole blocked me before I could even reply."

"Don't go," she said with a stern tone. "It might be sasaengs, you should be careful when going out. Some people can be dumb enough to do something crazy before thinking twice."

Kim was right, but you decided to brush it off. "Calm down, it's not like I was planning to go anyway," you chuckled lightly, shaking your head.

"Yeah, good to know."

"Dad, I'm going out!"

"Where to?" he questioned. Slipping your shoes on, you thought of what your best friend had told you the night before. You technically weren't going to the cafe. There was a sale in the small store downtown, and you didn't want to pass the chance to get your hands on K-Pop merch for lower prices. Obviously, you had to ask for money from your mother, and she was reluctant to give you any, but you had begged enough that she was finally just forced to do so.

"I'm going to meet up with Kim downtown."

"Have fun," he replied. "Don't stay out too late."

After half an hour, you finally arrived. You entered the store, but not without bumping into a few bodies, the place was filled with people after all. Noticing how many customers crowded around the NCT section, you lowered your cap, and you snickered silently. Why were you acting like this? You thought you were being too dramatic, they probably had no clue who you were, anyway.

Your hand hovered an inch above the mask you wore before you stopped, hearing the conversation of the girls by the stand.

"Have you seen that video Jisung? The one where he acted weird when that one fan suddenly screamed "I love you" out loud?" one of them asked, studying Jisung's photocard in her hand.

"Who hasn't? Ugh, seriously, I would've went if I had known that Dream would show up!" the other whined. "The girl is so lucky, all the members looked at her at the same time! I would sell my kidney just to experience that!"

A shiver ran down your spine. It certainly wasn't nice to hear people talking about you, even though it wasn't anything bad, it made you uncomfortable.

Saving the money given to you was undeniably the better option rather than staying here. Right when you turned your back to walk out of the store, your head bumped into someone's chest. You softly mumbled an apology and stepped aside.

A hand grabbed your arm, and you felt yourself stiffen. Fuck, were you recognized? You didn't even wear the bag you wore yesterday, and you had normal clothes on, not those unofficial NCT shirts you usually used. How could someone possibly. . You tried to jerk your arm away from the person's grasp, but his voice stopped you.

"Good thing you didn't remove your mask," he remarked before pulling you out of the store. You knew better than to attract attention to yourself and the boy, and because you had an idea of who he was, you didn't cry for help. Once the two of you were a good distance away from the shop, you pulled your arm out of his grip and stepped back.

"What do you—"

"Don't worry! I won't do anything to you," the boy chuckled, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. You look at him, he wasn't Jisung, the neon hair peaking out from the front of his hat said otherwise.

"Zhon—"

"Hey now! No blowing our covers!" Chenle hushed you as he crossed his arms, sending you a playful glare. He noticed your confused expression and sighed. "Why are you even here? Didn't we tell you to go to the dog cafe down the street?"

"Wh—" you paused. Realisation hits you like a truck and you gasp, hands moving to slap your cheeks. The person who had messaged you last night, the one who'd asked you to meet up. Was it Chenle?? "Why did you want to meet me?"

"Me? Oh no, not me! All we did was talk to you for Jisung," he explained, voice retreating to a soft whisper at the end of his sentence. Before he could say anything else, you cut him off.

"We?"

He tilted his head in confusion before letting out a sound and clasping his hands together. "I mean me, and the other members, aside from the youngest."

"You see," he continued, "Jisung basically developed a crush on you when he saw you yesterday! He couldn't stop asking himself, and us, what your name was and if he was your favourite among all the members—which was obvious because his face was literally on your shirt."

Chenle shuts his mouth, realising what he was doing. "I'm sorry for babbling. Jisung's waiting for you in the cafe, you should go now!"

He twirls you around and gives your back a push, snapping you out. "Wait, I—"

"Follow me," another boy shows up in front of you. You feel your head pound from everything that's happening, but you follow him nonetheless as he crosses the street. It takes the two of you a few minutes to get to the doors of the cafe, and you almost feel like fainting right there and then.

"I-I still have so many questions," you stare up at the person who escorted you to the cafe. The familiar eyes were enough for you to know that you were talking to Lee Jeno. "Can I pleas—"

"You should get in and sit down," he assured, giving you a pat on the shoulder. "You'll have your questions answered in there."

You nodded your head and tiredly pushed passed the door, the bell ringing from the motion. Puppies started to swarm around your feet, and you began to feel better as you squatted down in an attempt to stop the dizziness you felt.

As you pet the small poodle softly on its head, you take notice of the person who knelt beside you. Raising your head, your eyes immediately meet his. Jisung's face blushes a bright red, and you head the choked howling from the other side of the cafe. The other three members were clearly here.

"H-Hey," he uttered softly, averting his gaze onto the puppies that played with you. "I'm Park Jisung."

Despite the awkwardness, you didn't stop the laugh that bubble from your throat, and Jisung was glad that you didn't, because your voice truly was music to his ears.

"You didn't have to introduce yourself, Jisung." You wanted to give yourself a good ol' pat on the back as you smiled at him, making him even more flustered than before. It was weird, you should've been the one unable to talk properly! He was your idol, after all.

"Do you—I—uh, should—" Jisung was being the exact meme you'd expected him to be, and you felt your lips twitch at his cuteness.

"Let's take a seat on the tables—I mean chairs, the chairs, yes," he kept on stammering, standing up and holding a hand out for you. Now it's your turn to be awkward, staring at his hand for a long time before feeling the heat rise up to your ears.

"Oh, I'm supposed to—" you took his hand and stood up. The other members couldn't stop themselves from making noise. Chenle, who had already entered silently from behind the two of you, would've burst out laughing if it weren't for the four covering his mouth.

The two of you settle at the table further inside of the cafe, cautious of the fans that may possibly pass by. Jisung sat across from you, facing away from the transparent walls. Silence lasted for a long moment before he finally spoke up, "So, how long have you been a fan of our group?"

You looked up from the puppy on your lap and bit back a smile. He actually spoke without stuttering this time. "I started liking NCT when I saw Dream's debut video."

You saw the interest sparkle from Jisung's eyes as he leaned forward, intrigued. "I was actually skeptical about it first, because I wasn't quite a fan of cutesy concepts. But once I watched it, your unit became my favourite group."

"Why's that?" he wondered, tilting his head to the side cutely. An action so adorable that it made your heart skip a beat.

"W-Well, first of all, the song was catchy," you shifted on your seat, avoiding his gaze. "The vocals and raps were everything. I even spent my time trying to learn the choreography!"

You were about to start talking again before you remembered who was sitting in front of you. It was hard to do anything when you knew that the Park Jisung was giving all his attention to you.

The corners of Jisung's mouth quirked into a grin, he knew his effect on you, but he didn't want that to ruin this rare opportunity to be able to spend his time with someone he liked. "Hey." His voice made your shoulders jump. "Let's try to be comfortable with each other. Just talk to me, and I'll listen."

Because I want to get to know you better.

"Actually," he began when you finally faced him, "I was wondering if—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Renjun's voice startled the both of you, and Jaemin had to slap his shoulder to stop him from giggling. "Your drinks are with us,"

The two boys moved to the side of your table and placed each beverage on the coaster provided. Your eyebrows raise when you realize that the one given to you was your favourite. Jaemin was beaming, and seeing Renjun give you a polite smile, you decided not to question it and thanked them before they retreated back to their spot.

Either they stalked you hardcore, or they asked the lady in the counter for your usual.

"G-Go on," you shyly urge Jisung to continue, looking down into the glass as you look a sip from the straw.

"Can I get your number?"

He'd said it so softly, so sweetly, and oh so smoothly that you almost choked, shocked at his straightforward question. You face becomes beet red and you clumsily try to get an answer out.

Jisung sees how you react and panics as well, "I m-mean you don't have to! I just—"

"It's okay!" you cut him off, shaking your head profusely. He went silent, and so did you, not knowing what to say. What's next? Your mind was a total mess as you tried to think. Finally, you decided on getting your phone out, but he beats you to it, handing you his phone with a new contact ready to be added.

He knew that your first da—meeting, wouldn't go well. Jisung was an idol, and you were his fan. Although he was glad that you didn't go brain-dead, it was still a shame that the two of you couldn't speak to each other properly as it was, clearly, awkward.

That's why he thought that getting your number would be best, as he could easily talk to you without you seeing him get flustered about everything you did. It was an idea that he was proud of, so he couldn't help but bite his lip in an attempt to hide his smile as he watched you type in your number.

"H-Here," you return the gadget, looking away embarrassed and bewildered. Park Jisung asked you for your number. Park Jisung has your number. Park Jisung plans to contact you after all of this. The Park Jisung, actually knows you?

Jisung shot up from his seat, arm sticking out ready to catch you when you almost fell off your seat sideways. He moved to kneel beside you, pressing a hand onto your forehead and taking your wrist into the other, "Are you okay?"

It felt like your body was on fire when he touched you. "I-I-I am! Yeah, I'm good! Totally good!" you yelped, gently peeling his hand away from your head.

"But you're hot to the touch!" he protested.

"That's because I'm blushing!" you shook your head, pulling him up to stand. "I'm not sick, I'm just flustered."

"O-oh," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry, it's not your fault!" Well it is his fault, WHAT WERE YOU SAYING? You mentally slapped yourself and opened your mouth to speak.

"I—"

"Jisung!" a voice softly hissed. Donghyuck moved hastily, slamming his hands onto the table harshly. He turns to your and gives you a smile. "Hello, Y/N."

"Hi?"

The boy laughs and turns back to his friend, shooting Jisung a panicked glare. "We have to go. Now. The manager is looking for us!"

Both your eyes widen and the two of you stand up in unison. Haechan pats Jisung on the chest before hurrying back, and Jisung looks back at you.

"I can see that you have to go," you gestured to the boys in chaos from the other side of the room. You quickly took notice of the apologetic face he had. "Don't be sorry, I understand. Now go! I don't want any of you getting in trouble."

Jisung nodded and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your breath hitched when he pecked your cheek before he runs out of the store with the other members, but not without sending you a last wave. You stood there, dumbfounded, a hand on the place where Jisung had kissed you.

A moment passes and you finally recollect yourself, staggering toward the counter to pay for the drinks you had. The lady smiled and returned the money, "Those boys already paid."

You uttered a soft "oh" before nodding your head and walking out of the cafe. Damn, the past hour felt like an eternity! You were dead on your feet when you arrived home, and you quietly made your way upstairs to your room as your father's snores echoed through the living room.

Crashing down onto the softness of your bed, you let out a tired moan. It didn't take long before you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

A vibration from your leg woke you up, and you groaned as you sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room. You yawned, stretching your arms out and arching your back. "That was one hell of a dream."

You reached for the phone that had gotten out of your pocket, and you blink. Why were you wearing the clothes you had on in your dream? A gasp escapes your lips and you quickly unlock your phone. An unknown number had sent you a message.

Unknown #

: hey

: its mee

You

: who is me?

: j88sufn?

: jisung??

Fingers shaking, you clicked your tongue as you had wanted to slap yourself for being so nervous.

Unknown #

: your one and only :))

You wanted to yell at the top of your lungs, but all that came out was a croak, your voice getting stuck down your throat.

You

: BUT i thought it was a dream?

: are u messing w me

The person takes time to respond before the bubble disappears. Instead, they sent a picture of you playing with the dog in the cafe you were in earlier.

Unknown #

: certainly wasn't a dream

: anywayyy how r u?

You take a full minute to process what was happening and slowly let your thumbs type.

UWUSUNG

: hold that thought

: i gtg for practice, i'll ttyl c:

: ♥️

What? Did Jisung just send you a heart? You, Y/N L/N, could talk to Park Jisung anytime you wanted to. It felt like a dream, like you were being one of those delusional fangirls. But you weren't, because this was real, you concluded after biting onto your arm.

You hadn't sent a reply back after that, as it was too much for you to take in. This only happens when your crush is in the same school as you, not when your crush is an actual idol from SM Entertainment!

You almost threw your phone the moment it rang, someone was calling you. Was it Jisung? No! He left to practice!

The contact "Kim✨😘" flashed from the screen and you sighed in relief, feeling your shoulders relax before you answered the call. Not waiting for her to make a sound, you squealed into the mic, earning a shout from her.

"What the actual FUCK?" she growled. You shrugged her clear annoyance off and started rambling about what happened. Kim, on the other hand, couldn't understand a word you were saying, telling you to shut up.

"Okay, calmly, tell me what happened," she told you, letting you breathe in normally. As you were about to speak, your phone vibrated, and you held it in front of you to check the screen. Jisung had sent you a picture of himself, although it seemed like it was taken by someone else. He was posing for the camera, a sheepish grin on his face as he went with the awkward peace sign.

You let out a laugh at this, finding the picture, which was presumably taken by Chenle, cute. You replied with a heart after saving the image.

"Hey." You heard her huff. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Hey," you repeated, lips a permanent smile. "Let's meet up tomorrow."

"Sure, but why?"

"Because you're getting your ten bucks tomorrow."

146 notes · View notes

ellidoesstuff · 4 years

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“So What’s Band Like” pt. 2

aka random stuff people in my marching band have done but make it reminiscing on my freshman marching season edition and more focused on general events then what specific people have done

okay so like just to cover bases that one good percussionist from part one is the only percussionist that continued on into high school band

which is a fucking upgrade if you ask me

also i’m the only flute of my grade so i was flute baby™ last year

and then oboe baby when concert season came around

or as i like to call it

boboe™

oh and don’t fool yourself into thinking we have an oboe section either

it’s literally just me and my friend

anyway lets get deeper in to it then your boyfriend/S.O will ever be in you

or then you’ll ever be in your girlfriend/S.O

I ain’t gonna assume your situation

first band competition of the year we got stuck in a very hot band bus in a thunderstorm for like probably over an hour

we ended up being one of the only bands that actually stayed and performed which was cool

what was also cool is that we sang the 99 bottles of beer on the wall song and actually made it to 0

i’m also proud to say that one of the people who started that was my crush at the time, and my boyfriend now

how chaotic of him

but then again

he’s a percussionist

also my section leaders piccolo decided to just d i e and she couldn’t play for our entire performance at that competition

moving on

catch us drooling over a 200 plus member band at an away game with an elaborate Aladdin themed show

that same band played megalovania as a stand tune and when I say my band dropped all conversation and bopped to that shit I mean it

also the sunset that night looked like the teletubbie sunrise

when i informed my now boyfriend and my section leader of this they both looked at me like “why the fuck did you just ruin that beautiful sunset”

it is what it is

one time we had a flute hangout after school and before a Friday night away football game

except make it like the flute section featuring the alto sax section leader and my now boyfriend (who if you don’t remember is a percussionist)

oh and also briefly featuring one of our drum majors from last year and a trombonist

anyway we ate little caesars pizza at a playground in a neighborhood near the school

we also played on said playground

in the process putting my kermit plushie, who will most likely be a reoccurring character in this series, in the baby swing and pushing him

we then made friendship bracelets but my now boyfriend didn’t know how

so i did what anyone who knows how to make friendship bracelets and who’s crushing on someone who doesn’t know how to make friendship bracelets would do

i taught him how to make friendship bracelets

we also sat on the band bus together to and from that nights away game where I continued to help him make a friendship bracelet and then we looked at memes on the way back

some of them were funny, some of them weren’t

i laughed at all of them

why?

because i was and am…

a fucking simp

we hosted a competition the same day that we marched a two mile parade so basically everyone went home and crashed that night

Me, my friend, and my now boyfriend spent like over fifteen minutes trying to find this one band just so we could hand them a single candygram to give to some kid

that kid better have appreciated that candygram

My two friends and I also received a joint airgram from our moms so we all prompted to split the tiny piece of card stock into three and we each have a piece

It’s almost like a friendship bracelet

but one hundred times easier to loose

moving onto big boy competition territory

aka the Atlantic Coastal Championships

or at least i think that’s what ACC stands for

We were the first people to perform that day so we had to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to get to the competition in time

Like legit imagine a bunch of tired band kids on a school bus at 6am

It was actually kind of nice and very quiet

My now boyfriend and I watched Coraline on my chromebook on the way there

We also watched Coco on the way back but we aren’t there yet

I brought my Kermit plushie, as I should’ve, but he did not escape unscathed

My now boyfriend accidentally dropped him in his spilled chocolate milkshake which had made a fairly accurate rendition of Willy Wonka’s chocolate river on the stands

He was more upset about it then I was honestly and apologized a bunch while frantically trying to scrub the chocolate stain out of Kermit’s green plush flesh with his jeans

My now boyfriend also decided to spin Kermit up in the air like a helicopter and Kermit nearly flew over the back end of the bleachers since we were sat in the top row

Luckily he didn’t fly over but we quickly stopped throwing him around and Kermit promptly sat on the bleachers next to us for the rest of ACCs

Moving forward, I would highlight the game directly after I actually got together with my boyfriend but not a single fucking thing happened

Other then the fact that the concession stand ran out of hot chocolate

But not before my boyfriend, our two friends, and I could get our hands on some

Flash forward, our football team, in an act of what was probably some form of witchcraft or just downright luck, qualified for playoffs and the first playoff game was a FOUR HOUR drive away

They really said “okay everybody lets travel to the other side of the state for a single football game”

And before you say “well it would take a lot longer to get to the other side of my state!”

pack it up west coast/midwest

I live on the east coast our states are t i n y

we had to leave for this game in the middle of the school day right after lunch which meant i had to bring two separate book bags to school that day

one bag for band and one bag for school

regardless we drove on the bus through mountains and trees for four hours before stopping off to have dinner at some rando restaurant

and no offense to old white people but like it must have been senior night or some shit because when I tell you the only people in that restaurant were like 70 to 80 band kids and a bunch of old white people I am not joking

It was terrifying

And I mean like I’m not inherently scared of old white people

But what I am is non-binary growing up in a conservative area of a conservative state

And I was also holding the hand of my wonderful boyfriend who happens to be a person of color

I was scared I was about to be hate crimed

Or he was about to get hate crimed

Luckily I think the fact that we were part of a flock of like 80 other teenagers all wearing red shirts and sweatpants scared them off

Or maybe they didn’t even notice and my social anxiety just said “they’re looking at you, love ;)” when they probably weren’t

We also ran the ice cream machine at that place dry

Anyway this was like November and it was super fucking cold outside so the home schools band invited us inside the school building when we got there since it was still a bit before the game

I got to talk to some of the flutes and they were super chill

We also made this weird ass dance circle where we went back and forth doing steps that I forget but remind me of the cotton eyed joe for some reason

Maybe that’s what we were dancing?

I don’t remember I just know like the entire low brass section plus a select group of the upper woodwinds/percussion were all in on it

I also remember what I think was one of the flutes looking at me and my boyfriend who was hugging me from behind and being very physically affectionate, as he usually is, and mentioning something about wondering what instrument he played

If in some miraculous event you are reading this mystery flute girl, he’s a percussionist

you’re welcome

Nothing really stands out about the game itself other then how fucking cold it was and the fact that our football team won…

by a single point

We then all enjoyed the four hour ride back to the school

Most people spent it sleeping as it was like ten pm

Yeah you do the math we left at like 10pm

JK I’m not gonna make you do math we got back to the school at like 2am

Also notice how I said most people spent it sleeping

I probably would have been one of those people

However my lovely boyfriend, who again I do love, decided that a can of Mountain Dew at 10pm was a good idea

Baby, I love you, but why

10pm is too late for a Mountain Dew

We did end up sleeping for like an hour tho which was nice while it lasted

But then we had the glorious “Everyone we are about thirty minutes away from the school please call your parents to come pick you up” wake up call from our band director

And when I tell you that in that moment it felt like I was in between two different plains of existence

I am not kidding

It is a very interesting vibe

Anyway I apologize for how painfully long that was but I literally could go into so much more detail. This is just grazing the surface of the experience that was my freshman marching season. However, I’m stopping myself here. If for some reason you want to read more of this and aren’t willing to wait for me to make the part three that will be directed toward this years socially distanced band season, you can read the first one of these which has a remarkably funnier collection of events and a lot less cussing. What can I say, I was an eighth grader in middle school band with an instructor who was very lenient on what we did when we weren’t playing. Until next time, this has been Elliot, signing off until i inevitably find something else interesting to share with the internet.

#band #band kids #marching season #marching band #band geek #band class

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shijiujun · 4 years

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[起承] Chris’ Mini Concert in Taipei 20191222 - Summary

As promised, the concert summary!!

First, let’s look at this gorgeous background and what Chris wore in his first song - Totally magical my god and GALAXY THEMED!!! Okay it was actually purple themed because he likes the colour and a lot of fans actually turned up in purple things.

Being the dumbass that I was, I did not do that because I didn’t even THINK OF IT HONESTLY so in my haste i had to go buy some purple cap that is really cute (unicorn-themed!) and yes turned up for the concert.

I went with a lovely new friend this time along with two other friends (all of who I met on Tumblr!!) and when we first reached the venue, there were so many other fans there already as usual giving out freebies - I have completed a set of five plastic fans with Chris and Jake faces printed on it, and now I have three plastic sheet 2020 calendars with Chris’ lovely face on it so amen. A lanyard also, and ooooh like they printed fake passenger tickets with chris’ face on it HAHA

Venue/Seating: 20 Rows, 20 Seats, 10 on each side with a row cutting down the middle and then a stage - In terms of venue I think it was a pretty cozy venue, definitely smaller than the venue for the Trapped Taipei and Taichung fanmeets so everyone got a much better view. This is the venue they used for the first History Party

I was seated in the 4th row, which was farkinggggg close. Ann and Elle were seated in the 2nd row, and we were technically all in the same area - BEST

So after we were seated, suddenly there was a lot of commotion from the fans, and that’s when we realised that ANDY AND KENNY WALKED IN!!! They came in with caps and face masks on, and they sat themselves in the first row on the right section - I’d like to mention that seated in the same row were also Chris’ parents, his brother (real or like bro I haven’t figured out yet), Diane and Director Lee from Trapped (ahhhh Diane is farking pretty) and yes, Jake was not there, BUT BUT BUT I do believe he was invited, but he’s just busy with work. Jake and Zhang Guang Chen (the guy who plays Andy in Trapped) both liked Chris’ concert photo on Instagram!!

Photos weren’t allowed, and they were damn fucking strict about this which I honestly DONT UNDERSTAND but am not surprised at - It’s like he’s thanking his fans for turning up and he’s really touched and everything and all fans want to do is have some really nice photos of him you know CRIES IN A CORNER - So it was like the Trapped fanmeet media mafia again, people standing at the sides watching and making sure you dont take photos

BUT BUT BUT in the first two songs they couldn’t control us all because we were ALL taking photos, which is why I have photos from the first two songs but NOWHERE ELSE, but tbh the first song’s visuals were so beautiful that those were all I needed for photos, seriously - Which is nice because I rented a cam for this and I REALLY WOULD HAVE CRIED IF I WALKED AWAY WITH NO PHOTOS

He sang a few Chinese ballads, and then he went to change clothes, and THEN HE TURNED UP IN THIS SHIRT AND DANCED TO THE WEEKND’S CAN’T FEEL MY FACE

At the beginning of the concert he told everyone that he wasn’t going to cry and we all called bullshit on that and hahaha lo and behold he cried halfway through and then at the end A LOT

Xiao Yi hosted it again!!! My god, I love Xiao Yi so much, he’s honestly the best and he’s way more handsome in person than he is on Instagram HAHAHA and I love how close he is to the Trapped boys

I do have more photos of this but they’re all half blur because I was trying to dodge the photo police, but hip thrusting moves? Check. Skin reveal? Four holes in his shirt, CHECK.

Anyway, the entire show was filled with like crazy good dance numbers and Chris sang songs such as A Whole New World, and also two of his self-composed songs!! I can’t remember what the first song was called but he did sing this at the Taichung fanmeet, and the second song is called 「不想分開」which means ‘Don’t Want To Separate From/Leave Each Other’ and they’re pretty good

Chris said that HE MIGHT have some album/single release activity next year and asked us to look forward to Jan 2020 I don’t know what to expect tbh HAHAHAHA

And Chris also sang Della’s song from Trapped - and halfway through the song DELLA APPEARED AND STARTED SINGING WITH HIM!! And he was so touched that he started to cry (as always, the crybaby), then the audience and Xiao Yi got Della and Chris to duet one of Della’s other more popular songs, and then SHE WAS THE BEST BECAUSE SHE led Chris down the stage and into the crowd and got him to touch everyone’s hands (okay not everyone, but whoever who could reach him) - Unfortunately I was literally two arms length away from him, so I didn’t even try reaching out for him but as always he came real close, and I got to witness that face up close for the fifth time this year, thank you god and all the higher powers above and buddha for giving me this excellent year

And everytime Xiao Yi and Chris asked questions to the audience Kenny would be like this absolute fanboy yelling from his seat - Gotta love the friendship between them

Xiao Yi printed like photos of him and Chris and stuck it on chocolate bars and gave them out to the audience for like question and answer LMAOOOO funniest shit ever - So XY asked how much do we love Chris, and the first fan was like ‘I left my kid at home to come and watch Chris’ and then another one was like ‘I came here on a TOUR and now I have left my tour group secretly for a few hours so I can come attend this’ LMAOOOO

And CHRIS’ attire was fucking on point that day, all his outfits were like fucking A+++++++++ like sexy and handsome and WOOOHOOO

Okay and now storytime - The one SHITTY thing that happened during the concert:

So there was this older lady seated in the first row, and in the beginning she kept getting up to talk to the staff and I didn’t think much of it - You know maybe she’s a hardcore fan or something and she knows the staff and has some special connections or whatever

And then, LITERALLY HALFWAY THROUGH A SONG, she stands up and she starts shouting. I’m not joking, she starts fucking shouting and pointing at like some fans in the second row saying, “Why is it they can take photos but I can’t?! You guys are too much!!!”

Mind you all, Chris is literally PERFORMING and she’s making a scene

So the staff get her to sit down, and then we think it’s the end of it right, but no she proceeds to yell at shout the same thing across like three fucking songs, and then at one point she stands up and tries to get attention from the staff to come and catch another fan seated behind her because she’s taking photos

In the end no one else in the vicinity dared to take photos or whatever and she was still being a bitch and yelling - And the dumb thing is that she wasn’t asked to leave. This crazy woman in the first row making a scene and she’s not being asked to leave wtf

And then she just keeps shouting throughout the entire concert, and at two instances Xiao Yi had to say “Hey guys, everyone, be good okay? Everyone, please be good”

Okay and then some point in between crazy lady brings out a decanter of like whiskey and chugs it down - Like so wild

So okay, she’s sitting in the first row, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that the risk of sitting in the first row or at the sides is that staff can easily get to you to ask you to not take photos - and she’s in the “because I can’t have it NO ONE ELSE CAN” mode, which is like... okay that’s one thing, but the other part is-

CHRIS IS LITERALLY PERFORMING WHY WOULD U CAUSE A SCENE FOR HIM?!!!

And she was just plain fucking rude she was honestly yelling and scolding like other fans, and I feel like that she doesn’t have a right to do that

Around me were ALL the major Chris fanclub/fanaccount fans and they were all like wtf is wrong with her?

Basically she was such a disruption and idk why she wasn’t asked to leave

Worst of all, in his every very last song, Chris actually sang half a verse to her directly, and IDK if he knows her, or maybe heard that she was being very enthusiastic, or didn’t know that she was being a crazy bitch, in any case, Chris effectively rewarded her bad behaviour

A lot of the fans were really upset about that, because this woman fucked up the entire experience for us (just imagine someone yelling like two rows in front of you and shouting and pointing throughout the whole like 45 minutes) and Chris basically signalled to her that it’s okay to be a nuisance to everyone else, even if it was done accidentally

Otherwise, A+ concert!!! So happy to be in Taipei again and seeing the boys!!!!! And Lisley and Kana were both there as well, and i have to say I really, really love Diane <3333

Concert was a little bit short imo but the tickets weren’t expensive so it’s alright. No fan benefits this time HAHAHA

#chris wu #wu chengyang #吳承洋 #mini concert #history3: trapped #kenny chen #andy bian #summary!

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ethereousdelirious · 4 years

Text

I wrote another thing for some OCs of mine! I’ll put context under the cut.

I will say this: it’s a long read for what turned out to be not a lot of sick content. Just so you know that going in, haha

Content Warnings: oblique mentions of sex, brief references to emotionally abusive parents, semi-realistic depiction of urgent care/hospitalization and panic attacks

Please don’t bother correcting me on details i may have gotten wrong regarding flu symptoms/the hospitalization process :) I’m not shooting for absolute realism here and likely never will be. Thanks!

Oh, one more thing! This was based off a prompt that I will try to find so I can properly credit OP. It was basically about Character A getting hospitalized on Christmas and Character B decorating their room for them as a surprise.

This is based off a WIP of mine about 2 college roommates who go on a road trip after graduating and fall in love :) This story takes place in their Junior year and isn’t actually part of the WIP. Canon fanfiction? Is that a thing? Anyway.

The 2 characters that matter are:

Gaël Moreno

(Face claim: Reece King)

Santiago “Santi” Velez

(Face claim: Diego Boneta)

That’s p much all you need to know in terms of context!

Gaël swirled the last of his cider around the bottom of his plastic cup and sighed. As far as parties went, this one was rather small. Most of the attendees were playing Jenga Truth or Dare in the kitchen and the rest had broken off into small groups and were talking on their own.

With another sigh, Gaël tossed back the last of his cider. He glanced longingly into the kitchen, wondering if Santi would be upset if he slipped out.

"Hey."

Gaël jumped at a sudden voice behind him. He turned and came face to face with one of the GSA regulars. "Hey, Keith."

"I'll get to the point." Keith's strawberry blond hair was styled into spikes that quivered slightly as he talked. "This party blows and you look miserable. Do you wanna," he gestured at the hallway and made a suggestive hand motion. "I have condoms."

Gaël glanced back at the kitchen. Santi was pounding the table and chanting with the rest of the group while one of them clumsily attempted to shotgun a beer. "Yeah."

"Thank God, this night isn't gonna be a total waste of time." Keith took Gaël by the hand and led him farther into the house.

When they emerged, Keith said goodbye and left for the night, leaving Gaël to gloomily resume his spot on the couch. The game in the kitchen had gotten quieter. Santi was talking to the host, gesturing wildly with a half-empty beer bottle.

His eyes lit up when he noticed Gaël on the couch.

"Hey!" he called, a little too loudly than was appropriate for the close quarters. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah." Gaël stood up and pulled his coat back on. "Are you?"

"Yeah, we're winding down here." Santi turned back to the party host, someone with whom Gaël was unfamiliar. "Hit me up tomorrow, I'll totally help you clean up."

"Thanks, bro. Appreciate it "

"You bet." Santi saluted with his bottle, finished the contents, and deposited it in a cardboard box labeled 'recycling.' "Alright, later. Seriously, text me."

"Night," Gaël said stiffly. He took Santi by the arm and led him toward the door.

They walked along side by side, Santi chattering aimlessly about the party and what they were going to do with themselves now that it was winter break.

Finally, he seemed to notice that Gaël didn't want to talk and fell silent.

The clock on the microwave, only just visible from the front door, read 2:58.

"Shit," Gaël groaned. "Tomorrow is gonna suck."

Santi shut the door behind them and locked it with a clumsy hand. "Least you don't have anywhere to be. Unless you wanna come with me to help clean up tomorrow?"

"You're really doing that?" Gaël kicked off his shoes and lined them up by the door. "You're crazy."

Santi waved a hand. "Nah. I mean. I'd appreciate the help if I were in their shoes."

"Fair enough. I'm going to bed."

"Think I'm gonna wait 'til the room stops spinning." Santi sat heavily on the couch. "G'night."

"Night."

Gaël woke to the sound of the front door opening, meaning Santi was either just leaving or just getting back. That, or they were being robbed by the world's most polite burglar.

Yawning, Gaël rolled out of bed and shuffled into the living room. Thankfully, he hadn't drunk enough to earn himself a hangover.

"Hey," Santi greeted him from the couch.

"Hey." Gaël paused on the way to the kitchen. "How did cleanup go?"

"Uhh. I cleaned. I came back. I think I died somewhere on the way home."

"You take any painkillers?"

"Yeah. Like 2 hours ago."

Gaël sighed fondly and rolled his eyes. "I'll get you some painkillers and water."

"Coffee?" Santi pleaded.

"I haven't made any yet." Gaël went to the kitchen to rectify this before bringing Santi a glass of water and some aspirin.

"Thaaaanks." Santi hauled himself into an upright position and took the pills.

Gaël took a seat in one of the armchairs across from the couch and assessed Santi. He looked as bad as Gaël guessed he felt. He was still wearing last night's clothes and his tanned skin was sallow in the late morning sun. His hair was down, which was unusual, and from the way he was squinting, he hadn't bothered putting his contacts in.

They sat quietly for a while, listening to the coffee maker percolating.

"Did you ever end up getting a job or anything?" Santi asked suddenly.

"Oh. No." Gaël shrugged. "I made enough from tutoring that I felt okay not subjecting myself to some heinous seasonal retail job."

"Hell yeah, dude. Enjoy that time off."

"What about you?"

"You know me. Got my busking permit all signed and up to date. One of the choir guys got a hand pan and wants to team up."

"Sexy. Is he going with you to play at the old folks' home?"

"Nah, that's all me. Well, and the rest of the choir but you know." Santi waved his hands aimlessly. "I'm the master musician." He swept his hair back like he was going to tie it up, then noticed he didn't have a hair tie on his wrist. He let his hands drop. His hair fanned back out in unruly waves. "You wanna come?"

"I don't sing," Gaël answered. They had this conversation every year.

"Come on, everyone can sing."

"I can open my mouth and make noises." Gaël couldn't help but blush. Whether he was good at singing was beside the point. He was no good in front of crowds and Santi well knew it. "I'll stay here and hold the fort."

"Alright, alright." Santi leaned back and closed his eyes.

Despite the lack of school or work, Gaël actually saw very little of Santi in the following days.

Between busking, practicing for the Christmas concert, and attending house parties, Santi was absent for most of the weekend.

Not that Gaël was sitting around at home waiting for him. Most of his friends had gone home for the holidays, but several members of the GSA had not. Gaël spent much of the weekend with Keith and a few other GSA regulars at various coffee shops and bars in the area.

It wasn't until Monday afternoon that Gaël and Santi had the opportunity for another real conversation.

Gaël came in from a late lunch and found Santi halfway to horizontal on the couch, awkwardly balancing a glass of red wine on his chest.

"I'm not buying us a new couch if you spill that," Gaël said. He locked the front door behind him and came inside properly. There was already an empty glass waiting for him on the coffee table.

"I won't spill," Santi insisted. He sat up a little straighter. Wine sloshed perilously in his glass, a few drops escaping over the side and running onto his hand. "That didn't count."

"You look tired." Gaël sat in the space previously occupied by Santi's legs.

Santi heaved himself properly upright and poured out a glass of wine for Gaël.

"I've never had a Winter Break this hectic before, and that includes the time I was in high school and my parents tried to drag me to Hawaii at the last minute and the airline lost our luggage and my mother threatened to sue them for emotional damages because her favorite Chanel dress was in her suitcase," Santi said all in one breath. He downed half his glass and ran a hand down his face. His hair was down again, which was unusual. In the low light it almost framed his head like a halo. "So it turns out Avi, the guy with the hand pan, has stage fright or something so he wanted to practice until everything was perfect and he kept freaking out every time I tried to improvise. Then we finally get out to our spot and he doesn't want to leave even though I have an agreement with the knife-juggling guy." He paused. "Choir's going fine, though. Except they keep inviting me out to Denny's after every practice and it feels weird saying no. Gaël, I am so sick of pancakes."

"I wondered what all the to-go boxes in the fridge were about." Gaël took a sip from his glass. "Where did this come from, by the way?"

"Oh." Santi sighed. "The choir did a Secret Santa thing which I didn't know about because I'm not technically in the choir and this was the 'backup gift'."

"Not a bad gift," Gaël said with a shrug.

"I agree, especially considering some of the other gifts that were given out."

"Let me guess, candles and hand lotion?"

"You nailed it." Santi drained his glass and leaned over like he was going to refill it before evidently changing his mind and setting the empty glass on the coffee table. "Luckily I have tomorrow off. The concert is on Christmas Eve and then I have the rest of the break to myself. More or less."

"Is there anything you want to do?" Gaël asked. "We could go out for lunch or something. To a real restaurant."

"No pancakes?"

"No pancakes."

"Excellent."

They slipped into silence.

Gaël sighed through his nose. Although he told himself he was over his juvenile crush on Santi, sometimes it came creeping back into his thoughts. This was one of those times. Gaël wanted to run his fingers through Santi's dark blond hair and feel him relax, wanted to run his hands down Santi's neck, his chest--

Blushing furiously, Gaël cut off that train of thought before it could travel any farther south. He just wanted to make Santi feel better, that was all. Because they were friends.

"What is a hand pan?" Gaël asked, mostly to distract himself.

"Oh, it's like…" Santi made a vague hand gesture over his lap. "Like a faceted dome made of metal, and when you hit certain parts of it in a certain way, it makes noise. Kinda like a steel drum."

"Oh. Is Avi any good?"

"He's not bad," Santi said. "Better than I would be anyway. Hang on, let me see if I can find his Instagram."

They spent the rest of the day lounging in the living room, alternating between silence and light conversation. The bottle of wine remained on the coffee table, untouched since Gaël's arrival.

The sun sank below the horizon.

Gaël stretched and shifted positions. "No parties tonight?" he asked, looking sideways at Santi.

"Why, d'you wanna go to one? I think some of the Drama kids are having some sort of get together."

"No." Gaël stuck out his tongue. "I was just wondering."

"You sure? I know some of them. I could introduce you. Or we could have some of your friends over." Santi seemed poised to go on, but instead was overtaken by a yawn. He shook his head.

"Yeah, you look ready to party." Gaël raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should get to bed."

"Hm, yeah," Santi agreed. He didn't move. "Later."

"Alright, but don't expect me to make you coffee tomorrow."

"Of course." Santi smiled brightly.

Gaël refused to meet his eyes.

Ever the early riser, Gaël woke up the next day shortly after the sunrise. Unlike Santi, whose morning routine seemed to involve a lot of squinting and spilling water all over the kitchen in the process of making coffee or tea, Gaël's first act of the day was always to brush his teeth.

Half-awake, he staggered to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and lazily dragged some product through his dark brown curls. He took his time getting ready, knowing that Santi often preferred to sleep in.

To Gaël's surprise, Santi was waiting for him on the couch. He had wrapped himself up in his duvet and sheet and bundled up against one of the armrests. He appeared to be sleeping, but his hazel eyes cracked open upon hearing Gaël approach.

"Morning," Gaël said with a little wave. He poked his head into the kitchen to double check the time. "You're up early. Or did you stay up all night?"

"I was having trouble sleeping so I came out here."

"Did it help?"

"Not really." Santi sniffled and ducked his head under the duvet. After a moment, he sneezed sharply and then emerged. "If you want, you can have my leftover pancakes for breakfast."

"Thanks." Gaël went back into the kitchen to retrieve the to go box. While he was microwaving it, he heard Santi sneeze a few more times. "Bless you," he called over the hum of the microwave.

"Thanks," Santi called back.

He sounded a bit congested, Gaël thought. A familiar wave of anxiety began to rise in his chest. He abandoned his post at the microwave and stuck his head through the doorway into the living room. "Are you okay?"

"I think so." Sanri frowned, confused. "Do I seem not okay?"

Gaël made a face and gestured at the scene before him. Santi was wrapped head to toe in his bedding. Only his face was visible from beneath the pile of blankets. "You seem like you're trying to become one with your duvet."

The microwave beeped. Santi sneezed into his sleeve.

Gaël frowned, but went to go get his pancakes. When he got back to the living room, Santi was attempting to extricate himself from the tangle of sheets and blankets.

"Is the milk still good?" he asked Gaël when he was finally free.

Gaël shrugged. "Go check."

"Just figured I'd ask."

Santi was shivering when he came back into the living room, a bowl of cereal in hand.

Gaël couldn't help but notice. Winters in San Diego weren't exactly harsh, and Gaël was comfortable enough in his boxers and T-shirt. Yet Santi was shivering noticeably.

"Hey," Gaël said. "I think you're sick."

Santi paused in the act of arranging his duvet around himself. "So it's not weirdly cold in here?"

Gaël rolled his eyes. "Go take your temperature."

"But my cereal will get all soggy," Santi whined.

"Alright, whatever. I'm not your mom."

"Thank god for that."

Santi finished eating before Gaël and wandered off. He came back wearing an undersized Grateful Dead hoodie that kept trying to ride up.

"I'm doing it," he said.

"Huh?" Gaël was staring at the little bit of skin that was showing just above the waistband of Santi's sweatpants. He shook his head and looked up. Santi was brandishing a thermometer. "Oh. Good. I mean--" he stuttered. Santi sat down and stuck the thermometer under his tongue. "I hope you're not sick."

"Mm'" Santi hummed in agreement.

They waited a few seconds and the thermometer beeped. Santi made a face. "101.1."

"Huh." Gaël leaned forward. For the most part, Santi looked fine. He was a little pale and he did look tired, but not unusually so. "And you feel okay?"

Santi shrugged. "Yeah, aside from the fact that I'm freezing."

"Huh. Well." Gaël frowned. "I guess let's keep an eye on you."

For a moment, it was quiet. Then Santi shifted under the pile of blankets.

"I need to brush my teeth."

"Go brush your teeth," Gaël said, not looking up from his phone.

"Yeah." Santi got up and left.

The day was, by and large, anticlimactic. Gaël spent most of it on his phone, switching between the couch, an armchair, and his bed whenever he felt the need to move. It went without saying that their lunch plans were cancelled, and Santi went back to bed around noon, leaving Gaël to his own devices.

It would have been a lovely day for a hike, he thought as he looked wistfully out the window, but it wouldn't feel right leaving Santi behind.

So Gaël resigned himself to a boring, lonely day. He did receive a few texts from his friends, but everyone was mostly too busy to have a proper conversation.

At around 6:00, Santi emerged from his bedroom looking noticeably worse, downed a handful of painkillers, and retreated back into the darkness of his room.

"You okay?" Gaël asked as he passed.

"Sleepy," Santi answered, and shut his door.

They both woke early the next morning.

"Feeling any better?" Gaël asked upon emerging from the bathroom to see Santi sprawled out on the couch.

Santi said something akin to "not really." The words came out muffled with half his face pressed into the faux suede couch cushion.

Deciding to forgo breakfast for the moment, Gaël came out to the living room to take a better look at his roommate. "Oh. Shit."

Santi was a mess. His dark blond hair was hopelessly tangled around the dangling cross earring he had evidently neglected to take out, and matted to his sweaty forehead. His cheeks were an angry, feverish red and his eyes were blank, not seeming to focus on Gaël or anything at all.

He didn't say anything, just lay there motionless but for the frantic rise and fall of his chest, and let himself be examined.

"Shit," Gaël repeated. Then, "um."

The thermometer was still on the coffee table where Santi had left it last night.

"Can you sit up for me?"

Santi hummed a dissent. "Dizzy."

"Just… Roll over onto your side, then. I need to take your temperature."

"'Kay." Santi rolled over and allowed Gaël to slip the thermometer under his tongue.

For a few tense seconds, Gaël waited and tried desperately not to freak out. They both got sick all the time. This was nothing. Everything was fine.

Then the thermometer beeped and the panic roared again, loud in Gaël's ears. "104.2. How long--"

"I don't know." Santi closed his eyes and scrubbed at his face. "I woke up feeling really bad."

"What time?"

"Night?"

"And you said you were dizzy?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Gaël bit his lip, thinking. "I think you should go to urgent care."

"Mm." Santi didn't open his eyes or attempt to move. "I don't know if I can--" He shuddered and pulled his knees up to his chest with a quiet moan. "I feel really bad."

"Just try to sit up. I need to grab some things and I'll help get you to the car."

"My wallet's, um… In my backpack. I'm still on my parents' insurance."

This made Gaël pause. "Really?" Then he shook himself. "Sorry, not the time. Just try to sit up."

He darted off. Keeping his wits about him was a constant battle. His body wanted so badly to panic. It was all he could do to not hyperventilate as he packed a few essentials into his school bag and started the car.

Santi was sitting up with his head in his hands and his knees braced against his elbows.

"Hey," Gaël said, kneeling beside him. "I'm gonna help you stand, okay?"

"I'm tired," Santi said, sounding almost on the verge of tears.

"I know. You can rest in the car, okay? Put your arm around me."

Santi's body was frightfully hot. It was hard to walk with him leaning so heavily on Gaël's shoulder, but they managed.

After a short drive, they had to repeat the maneuver to get into the urgent care.

"'I'll check you in," Gaël said. "Are you okay to go sit?"

"No," Santi said, clinging on harder. He leaned heavily to the side and Gaël staggered to try and keep them both upright.

One of the receptionists seemed to take notice of their plight. "I'm sending someone out to help, okay?"

Gaël said nothing. He couldn't. All he could do was try to breathe and to lower Santi to the floor as gently as possible.

Breath, he reminded himself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. It wouldn't do any good if he passed out too.

So he knelt on the carpeted floor of the urgent care, sinking into a strange feeling of numbness. Santi was attended to by a doctor and a team of medical assistants and Gaël had to answer questions for them but the answers seemed far away in his mind.

His hands fumbled over Santi's wallet, words clumsy and faltering on his lips until every other sentence was "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know."

The carpeting was blue-gray, patterned with rosettes. Gaël watched his cream-colored skate shoes obscure it until it disappeared, replaced by pale orange linoleum.

One of the medical assistants was talking to him. Gaël looked around at the walls of the exam room. The words bounced around in his head without really sinking in.

His body seemed to catch on before his brain did, his shoulders beginning to shake with sobs. He was crying without really feeling it. Tears made dark stains on his pants. Gaël stared blankly down at the orange linoleum and let them fall.

"Gaël, I'm going to be fine," Santi said for what must have been the 50th time.

He didn't look fine. It was impossible to look fine laid up in a hospital bed. Gaël would have said so, but he was too busy crying. He hadn't really stopped since he'd started sobbing in the exam room and his head was starting to ache.

"Come on, Gaël, look at me. It's just the flu."

There was a whole list of things Gaël wanted to say to that, but all he could manage was "But I— And you…"

"You need to calm down or you're going to get admitted too," Santi joked. "Can I tell you a secret?"

This caught Gaël off guard. He looked up and wiped his eyes. "Y-yes."

"I'm not actually sick," Santi said in a stage whisper. "I just faked it to get out of the concert."

"Oh, shit," Gaël said as Santi's eyes widened.

"Oh, shit!" Santi echoed, flailing around aimlessly in the hospital bed. "My phone, I need— Ah, shit, shit, shit. What time is it?"

Gaël dived for his backpack, digging around for Santi's phone. He found it and tossed it over to Santi, who unlocked it and began typing furiously.

"Did you miss it?" Gaël asked, watching Santi's awkward attempt at typing without bending his left arm and messing up his IV.

"No, it starts in 2 hours." Santi sank back against the pillows and closed his eyes. "Ugh." The brief moment of panic had robbed him of breath. He was silent for a moment while he breathed. "Gaël," he said, opening his eyes. "I need you to bust me out of here. Steal a wheelchair while I distract the nurses, and we'll go from there."

"Wh--" Gaël squinted, his eyes darting over the medical equipment in the room. "You— No!"

"I'm kidding," Santi said, but his smile faded too quickly. "I just…" He sighed and ran a hand down his face. "I've been looking forward to this, you know? It's kinda the only thing I get to do for Christmas now that my family's all--" He waved his hand dismissively. He sniffled and scrubbed at his eyes even though there were no tears to wipe away. "Sorry, I know it's stupid to freak out like this."

"You just saw me have a panic attack for like three hours and you want to call that a freakout?" Gaël laughed. He wanted to put a hand on Santi's shoulder to hug him, to brush his hair, anything to make him feel even slightly better. As it was, self-deprecation was all he could muster. "I think you're entitled to cry a little bit considering where you are."

"Yeah." Santi gave a heavy sigh. "Merry Christmas, by the way. Your present is in my sock drawer. You can't miss it. It's the only thing in there that isn't socks."

"We can open presents tomorrow. Did they say when they were releasing you?"

"Yeah, hopefully tomorrow. Christmas Day." Santi wiggled his fingers. "They just want to keep me overnight to make sure I don't keel over again. Apparently I'm 'severely dehydrated' and 'drink too much alcohol'."

Gaël scoffed. "They know you're in college, right?"

"That's what I said. Well. Would have said if I could've felt my face at the time."

They fell into silence for a moment.

"I didn't know you liked Christmas so much," Gaël said. "You're always so enthusiastic about everything it's hard to tell sometimes."

Santi raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on the character analysis. "Yeah, I've always liked it. I'm not going to go into a Hallmark movie spiel or anything, but it's just nice. Although out of everything, I think the lights are my favorite." He sighed wistfully. "Quiet Harbor, the old folks' home we always perform for, always has the prettiest decorations in the lobby. Speaking of." He picked his phone up off the sheets. "The group chat is blowing up."

"They're not going to cancel, are they?" Gaël asked anxiously, knowing it would upset Santi.

"No, no. I'm not that important. They're just gonna do it without me."

"Ah."

"Can you do me a huge favor, by the way?"

"Of course."

"Can you swing by home and grab my phone charger? And toothbrush? Mm, and regular brush?" Santi attempted to run a hand through his hair and was instantly stopped by tangled up knots.

"Oh, yeah." Gaël blushed. "I'm sorry, I should have thought of that sooner. I'll go right now."

"Thanks," Santi said. He pulled the covers further up around his shoulders. "I'm going to sleep. Possibly for several thousand years."

Gaël drove home in contemplative silence. He gathered up Santi's things and put them all in his trusty backpack, but did not immediately head back to the hospital.

Instead, he drove.

Surely there were stores open on Christmas Eve. Not everything could be closed.

Sure enough, a dollar store was open. Gaël rushed in and surveyed their selection of holiday decor with a discerning eye. He grabbed a few things, even finding a few cheap strings of battery-operated lights.

Once he'd paid, he hopped back into the car and rearranged his backpack, sticking his new purchases at the bottom and Santi's belongings at the top. The backpack' zipper just barely managed to close, straining the seams. Gaël set it in the passenger seat and, after a moment's thought, strapped it in.

Then he headed back to the hospital.

Gaël's plan was not going quite as smoothly as he'd hoped. After an uneventful evening, he'd made the decision to stay the night in Santi's room.

It wasn't, as he'd feared, against hospital policy and Santi didn't protest beyond a few token attempts to get Gaël to leave and spend Christmas Eve with his other friends.

However, Santi was not as heavy a sleeper as Gaël had been hoping and he woke up almost every time a nurse came in to record his vitals.

After one such visit from a nurse, when the sky was just beginning to lighten, Gaël sat up. Tooth by tooth, he unzipped his backpack and set about decorating Santi's hospital room as lavishly as he could without obstructing anything too important.

This might've been against hospital policy, but it wouldn't have to be up for very long.

Since much of the room was taken up by the IV pole, hospital bed, and guest seating, Gaël tried to focus on the windowsill and tables. He set up the lights in careful loops and hung up paper ornaments everywhere he could think of.

When he was done, the room wasn't exactly covered in Christmas decorations, but it was certainly cheerier than before.

Satisfied that Santi was still fast asleep, Gaël set off to get himself a coffee.

"That's lovely," said the nurse, coming in. Her name was Permata. Gaël had met her earlier when she had come in to check Santi's vital signs.

"What's lovely?" Santi asked blearily.

"You'll see."

Santi must have been too tired to argue, because he didn't press the point any further.

From his position by the window, all Gaël could see was Permata's back. She finished what she was doing and left again.

"You awake?" Gaël asked.

"I guess so." Santi yawned. "What did she mean when— Oh." He looked around at all the Christmas decorations: the paper ornaments hung from the edge of the table, the streamers hanging from the message board on the wall, the lights on the windowsill. "Gaël, did you…?"

"You seemed really upset yesterday, and I wanted…" Gaël hesitated. "I didn't want you to be sad on Christmas."

"Gaël." Santi's eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Thank you." He held out his arm for a hug. "Seriously, thank you."

"Of course." Gaël leaned over the bed and embraced Santi. It was an awkward and slightly painful position, with his knees jammed into the plastic safety rail and his body twisted to an odd degree. But it didn't matter. Santi was safe.

That was all that was important.

#posting oc content always makes me so nervous hhhhhhhhh #ethereous writes #whump #sickfic

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