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bluemusickid · 3 years

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A Love So True

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none so far, fluff, meet-cute (eventual smut, angst, fluff, 18+ in later chapters)

A/N: What can I say, I am a sucker for angst. This is a lil' different from my other work, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a multi-chapter fic, so please drop an ask if you want to be added on a taglist for it!😅😊 Also idk if anyone's done this before (i'm sure they have tho, and it's prob better, people here are amazing writers💓), but i've not read it anywhere, so apologies if it seems similar to any other fic you might've read.

Join my taglist and check out my masterlist for more!!

I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, nowhere else. I do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my fics anywhere else. Inspite of this being a fic with no adult content, MINORS DNI. 18+ blog only, you are responsible for your media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes if made, grammatical or otherwise, are all mine. Dividers by the awesome, super, amazing @firefly-graphics 💓🙏

The leaves crunched under your heels, the chill in air making you shiver a tad. It was a gloomy day, with little light and little brightness. The walk reminded you of the numerous times you'd walked to school, taken the same road, walked along the same path, seen the same trees, albeit with newer leaves.

Yet, there was something missing. And you knew what it was, but you couldn't pinpoint it.

The accident. That day, that cursed day, which had changed everything, which was responsible for this feeling. You don't remember anything before that, it's all a haze. All you remember is waking up in a hospital bed, your mother's tearful gaze settling upon you.

Your parents had never said a word. They loved you, nurtured you, kept you safe and sound. And yet, they never filled in the blanks, walking on eggshells in every conversation you'd have. But there was something just nagging at you, day in and day out. It was like an itch, but you couldn't scratch it. A melody on the tip of your tongue, which you couldn't name. And that was your life now.

You walked into the café, grateful for the warmth and the aroma of coffee beans engulfing you. You placed your order at the counter, texting your brother in the meantime.

You took your place in the cozy armchair, opening up your laptop. You'd sent out resumés months ago, but in vain. All good things take time, right? Atleast you hoped so. There was only so much you could do to distract yourself; to keep yourself from overthinking and trying to make yourself remember. Bad as it may sound, you kind of didn't want to remember anymore. It was exhausting, terrifying and draining. You hated the phrase but maybe ignorance was bliss.

With that thought, you got back to the task at hand, feeling around for your charger, but couldn't find it. That was weird. You never left home without it.

"Excuse me? Are you looking for your charger?" A voice asked.

You looked up, and boy were you thankful you'd dropped it. Deep blue eyes, long lashes and pink full lips, a smile adorning them. It hit you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh..thanks.." you mumbled, aware that you were staring but it was involuntary at this point. It wasn't just his looks. Something felt familiar about him, like you'd met him somewhere before, but you couldn't place him.

"May I...sit here? There aren't any good spots left and I don't really like sitting alone." He said, rubbing his neck, awkwardly.

"Ahh..sure."

He took a seat, carefully keeping his coffee cup down. Pulling out his laptop, he set it down before speaking again.

"Thanks, I hope you don't mind. It's just that sitting alone just seems so awkward. People give you these judgy looks and I get kinda weirded out by that."

"Oh, I totally get that. You're welcome to stay." You smiled. He extended his hand, after a beat.

"Chris." You shook his hand, giving him your name. His hand was warm, electric jolts running through your body as he grasped your hand. What was happening? Why did a sense of deja vu just hit you? Had you met him before?

"Is there...something on my face?" He grinned.

"Huh? Oh no...sorry, I..I didn't mean to stare. It's just that I felt like I've seen you or met you...somewhere. Do you come here often?"

"Uhhh first time actually. It's funny, I pass by this place so many friggin' times, but never really had the chance to come in. The day I do, I meet a pretty lady, so I guess it was all for a reason." He said, a slight grin adorning his lips.

You smiled at that. So he was a charmer. And a good-looking guy. Huh.

"How many times has that line worked?" You asked, mischievously. He was too good to be true, he had to get flustered by that.

"If it works on you, the number will be one. And by the end of this conversation, I hope I'll get a different number...perhaps...from you." He trailed off, giving the shyest smiled you'd ever seen.

Your eyes widened at that. Jesus Christ, he really was smooth. Buckle up, you thought to yourself, taking a sip from your cup. This was a ride worth taking.

It was probably 6, 6:30, 7ish by the time you'd wrapped up and started leaving the café. Time stood still with him, you noticed. He didn't seem like the type of guy you'd even pursue, let alone have a date with. But you were glad enough to admit that your judgement was hasty and wrong. He was different. Smart, funny, shy, handsome, dreamy. Did you have a crush on him already? After a few hours? That was sooo..not possible....Was it?

You'd talked about so many things, some of which would have made no sense to a third person. He was charmingly witty, his jokes keeping you in splits. He asked you about your job, where you were from, why you chose your major. He listened attentively, hanging on every word you said, as if committing it to his memory.

And his eyes. They were blue with hints of green, which sparkled every time he talked to you. Those eyes beckoned to you, called to you. You could happily drown in those eyes and it would be worth it. But there was a hint of familiarity in them; like he knew you. Like you knew him. They shone with an intensity you'd never seen before; certainly not from a stranger.

You walked home, your head in the clouds, a slight skip in your step. It had been an okay day, but he'd made it a good day. Wasn't it weird, how one person, one incident, could literally change your entire day?

You knew you'd be dreaming about him at night. And his eyes. And his smile. And his hair. And him.

Kicking your boots off, you chirped, "I'm home!!!", knowing for a fact that your mom would definitely notice the change in your mood and ask you a million questions. You didn't know if you would tell her just yet, but maybe after a few dates.

Dates, as in plural. How did that happen, you ask? Well, he must be a goddamn psychic, because what he said did end up happening. You gave him your number, with the promise of him calling or texting hanging in the air.

That night, you drifted off and indeed dreamt about him, whisking you off on a white horse, like a Prince, his blue eyes haunting your dreams.

Chris stood before the window, watching the city lights and silhouttes light up the night sky. It had been a few hours since he came back home, dropping the keys on the table, as he trudged inside. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally. Seeing you had lit him up from inside. Talking to you...oh God, it had to be the best thing ever. He felt like he would burst, seeing your eyes on him as he talked. It didn't feel weird, it felt natural. It felt normal.It felt like nothing had ever changed.

But it had. And it killed him. Every moment, every second of every day he spent away from you, killed him slowly, minute by minute. He couldn't believe it. He was mourning the loss of somebody who was still alive.

A whine caught his attention. Turning around, he saw Dodger, bringing him his pet lion. Chris smiled through the sheen of tears that had formed. Sitting down, he adjusted Dodger on his lap, stroking his fur gently.

"Hey buddy. I saw your mommy today. She still looks as pretty as she did when you last saw her. I know you miss her a lot, I do too. Bet she'd remember you, bud-" he stopped, his voice cracking as he choked up. No, no. He musn't cry. He couldn't cry. Showing even a hint of weakness would break his resolve. He knew it would be tough, but he had to fight for you.

You never really know what you have until you lose it, he realised, tears flowing freely. He hugged Dodger, holding onto him with all his might, afraid that he too, might leave if he let go of him.

He wouldn't lose you, he couldn't lose you. He would die if he did.

Chris felt a touch on his head, the feel of a hand stroking his hair. For a split second, he wished, hoped, prayed it was you. But it was just Lisa.

Pulling him up, she made him sit on the sofa, as he hugged her and cried, the tears wracking his entire body. She held him, keeping her tears at bay. She hated seeing him like this, and it killed her to see her baby like this. She felt helpless, and rightly so. Mothers can make everything right in the world, but this was one thing she couldn't remedy. So she let him cry.

"You met her today, didn't you?" He nodded, wiping his nose on his shirt.

"Did she recognize you at all?"

"No...she said she thought she saw me somewhere...but that was it." He murmured. He felt weary, his soul heavier than his body weight.

"I miss her, ma." he croaked, his tears starting afresh.

"Don't do this to yourself Chris. You're only gonna end up getting hurt. Tell her the truth."

"You saw what happened in the hospital, ma. She didn't remember me, not even a bit. Telling her might overwhelm her, and I don't want that. If she can't remember me, I'll make her fall in love with me again. Even if it takes me decades, I will. Because she is my wife, my soulmate, and the only person I want to grow old with. I will move Heaven and Earth to bring her back to me."

Lisa simply nodded. She understood. She loved you like a daughter too. This loss was a big blow to the whole family, not only Chris.

That night, as she watched Chris sleep, she made up her mind. She would help her son in whatever means necessary, to bring you back. To bring his happiness back. To make this family whole again.

And no, I've not watched The Notebook, ever (yea sue me lolol). But I read a real life story about a woman who lost her memory and her husband wooed her back afterwards and I was like, ugh.😭

I hope y'all liked it, tried to do something different.🥺😅 Feedback is welcome. Likes are good, reblogs are appreciated!

-love, Lexi.💓

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oikadori · 4 years

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A/N: I really liked this request!! I love Yamaguchi but I’m really insecure about writing for him?? so that’s why he isn’t on my characters list, but after this I might write for him too! Sorry for deleting the last one and then posting this again but I get really anxious when like, i have a plan and then it doesn’t go as I wanted so here it is...again BUT at 10pm east hour 😌

Sorry for the long wait ANON but here it is. Hope you like it!

Yamaguchi Tadashi x f!Reader

Summary: he is very subtle with his feelings but it’s really hard to hide them when his crush is Karasuno’s sweetheart, in the other hand, you are not familiar with the butterflies in your stomach

Genre: fluff, a little angst but mostly fluff

WC~2,3K

“Karasuno’s heartbreaker” that’s how they called you. You really didn’t want to sound mean to them, but the boys’ insistence bothered every fiber of your body. So, when you noticed that third-year walking in your direction, holding a cute bento-box, you ran.

“Oh, I’m so sorry”, the boy with freckles and a little aerial on his hair says as his cheeks tint red when he notices you. You, the sweetheart of Karasuno just bumped into his chest “Are you– “

Your tongue sticks out catching your breath as you look at the tall boy you just crashed against.

“It doesn’t matter–“ , you hear multiple steps turning around the corner and your eyes fanatically search for a spot to hide, noticing just now his black jacket, “Freckles! You are from the volleyball club, right?”

“Y-Yes”

“Let me hide in the gym. PLEASE. Only for ten minutes”

“I–Only people from the club can enter”

“Just five minutes, okay?” the way your eyes become big and puffy kills any resistance he had left. He nods nervously before walking to the gym’s door, followed closely by your figure.

You scan him curiously. ‘Is he a first year?’ He’s really tall for that, but you don’t remember seeing him in any of your classes. ‘Maybe he is in advanced classes?’

The moment you cross the doors, all stares are over you. Two second-years freeze in the spot while a tall blonde looks at you with confusion as his eyes slightly widen. You recognize two first years, Kageyama and Hinata, who turn bright red as they see you standing in the entrance with an embarrassed little smile.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just–

“IS THAT Y/N-san??”

“I think she is Ryu!! This is our lucky day!!”

“Yamguchi, since when are you friends with her?” the blonde says, not crossing eyes with you

“I’m not, but–“

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I can”

“W-We can teach you play Y/N-san!”, Hinata comes at you, bouncing, making you take a few steps back, “Stay, Please!–”

Your feet slip in the steps and you lose your balance only for a fraction of second, but Yamaguchi’s hand is quick grabbing your forearm. His hold on you is gently and the moment he notices it, he releases you just as quick.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to t-touch you like that” you move away a little, still shocked by the loudness of the situation, shaking slightly your head.

“Thank you actually. I just need some sp–”

Before anyone else can approach you, a third-year girl moves in front of you, extending her arms protectively.

“Stay back, you’re scaring her”, just when you were about to thank her, you see behind your shoulder multiple boys approaching the gym, and without exchanging a word, she pushes you further into the gym, and closes the door with a loud thud.

“Thank you so much…”

“Shimizu”

“I–sorry for coming in like that” you whisper, “Can I stay here until they leave, please?”, you gaze at the third-years, pleading.

“Please, please let her stay Daichi-san”

“Please! It’s Y/N L/N-san!”

They share a brief smile before welcoming you. So, in an attempt of making yourself useful, you start helping Kiyoko with her duties. Your eyes casually drift to the court and the moment you see them playing, your mouth opens wide.

“Amazing right?”

“I’ve never seen an actual match before…It’s– really impressive”, Kiyoko smiles at you before speaking again

“Have you joined any club activity?”

///

The cold air of the night shakes your hair as you close the gyms doors, wearing the volleyball club’s jacket. You wrap your arms around yourself at the coldness as you turn down Noya and Tanaka’s offer to carry your bags to walk you home.

“Thank you, but you both live, like, in the opposite side of the town”

As the boys leave with puppy eyes, you catch the sight of a little brown aerial turning around the corner.

“Freckles, are you going home?”

“Oh. Hi, Y/N”, he stops instantly and turns to you, “No, sorry. I’m gonna practice some more serves. You live in the house, crossing the street, right?

He turns red, replaying the words in his head as his eyes go blank.

“I-I’ve seen you walking to school a few times. Not that I watch you constantly–Sorry!”, you bit your lip holding back a chuckle, his shyness making your eyes soften.

“Can I go with you? I could go alone honestly but my parents would kill me if they saw me arriving home at this hour without company”

“ I’m gonna practice for at least one more hour, are you okay with that?” ‘An extra hour besides his regular training??!!’

“I kinda don’t have a choice, so yes”, he frowns as you reach for your back, placing it across your shoulder before zipping your jacket and giving a light nod to begin your walk.

He doesn’t ask you to let him carry your bag, he have seen how that question had bothered you at least 20 time before. So, he just walks beside you, in silence.

“Hey that’s not the street we were supposed to take” you stop, pointing at the opposite side, “That’s the one to Shimada’s-san store!”

“I know, I’m walking you home first”, you blink and a strange lump settles on your throat, “I can practice later”, a closed-eye smile crosses his face, it is amazing the way your face burns at the effortless cuteness of the first-year.

“But it’s really late already–“

“Oh, I stay until much later! It’s no problem really” ‘Why is he so damn sweet???’

“Fine. Whatever” your mumbles make Yamaguchi’s lips curve up, he looks at you dreamily, you are absolutely gorgeous. That silly nickname doesn’t equal everything you are, and it makes his heart drop to the ground.

Suddenly, you quicken your pace making him take long steps to match yours.

“Come on, Yamaguchi, I don’t want you to blame me for falling asleep in class tomorrow!”

Good thing you’re walking a few steps ahead of him, otherwise you would have seen clear as day his flushed cheeks shining under the moon.

///

That was the very only walk you had alone with Yamaguchi, but even though he was always around Tsuki, you promised yourself you would cope with the middle blocker, so you didn’t have to walk alone. From being just teammates, you started calling them friends.

The sun is falling on the horizon, a mix of orange and red painting the sky as Karasuno’s volleyball club left the gym where they just had a long practice match.

“Oi! The pretty manager! Wait!”

Your foot just landed on the step of the bus, when three boys from the other team come at you. Yamaguchi is behind you, waiting for you to step in when you turn back, sighing.

“Hey. I’m about to leave so I’m sorry–

“Aww, sweetheart, don’t be like this”, the boy eyes you from to toe to head, making Yamaguchi frown at him but then, when he looks at your face, your sweet smile turning into a dangerous grin, he just backs away, “I only want your phone number”

There is a little pause and Yamaguchi can feel his features relaxing, understanding you are in total control. He had watched you closely, not with obsessive stares but with subtle glances here and there, picking up your gestures and actions. Not noticing, how strong his crush on you was getting.

“Oh, but why on earth would I do that?”, you look so cute but there is nothing cute in the words you spit at them, it makes Yamaguchi gulp harshly. ‘Maybe you learnt too well from Tsuki’.

Noya and Tanaka were already running his sleeves up getting off the bus when they heard you, becoming statues.

“I mean, you don’t seem like the kind of guy I’ll date so- No. I’m tired and I want to go home” you say, swaying your hips as you enter the bus, “Are you coming Yamaguchi?”

“Y-Yeah!”

You drop your weight on an empty seat as Yamaguchi searches for another spot without luck. He looks at the seat next to you with nervousness, not wanting to bother you.

“You can sit here, you know? You can’t stay up the whole ride, can you?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“Why would you?” you quirk an eyebrow at him, smiling as you see the soft redness spreading on his cheeks, “I’m messing with you, Tadashi! Just sit”

And as a soldier listening to a command, he sits.

He watches you as you take out your earbuds and plug them in, scrolling down your playlists.

“Did the album you were waiting come out?”, he points shyly his finger at your phone, making you blink as you turn to him

“I-Yes! How do you know I was waiting for it?”

“Uhm–I remember you said that last week”, you fight vigorously the red that threatens your cheeks with fake coughs, “I-I didn’t mean to overhear you, I swear!

“No-no. It’s not that. It’s just–guys don’t usually listen to me, not really anyways. It’s nice knowing someone does”

A comfortable silence settles in as you brush the butterflies in your stomach away before turning to him, eyes glistening with a little mishief.

“That guy was SO annoying!!”, you sigh, “I’m sure Noya and Tanaka would have eaten him alive” you giggle a little before staring at him expectantly for his reaction.

“I–“, his eyes run away from yours before mumbling softly, “I don’t think you needed someone to protect you, your presence itself is…overwhelming–In the best way possible!”

Tsuki turns his head to where you both are siting, sighing, when he sees two blushing messes sinking in the seats.

“I mean if he kept insisting, of course I would do–something!” you feel again that weird knot in the pit of your stomach and without thinking you unplug one of your earbuds.

“Want to listen with me?”

“yes”, Yamaguchi just feel as if he is the luckiest guy in the world and he wants to enjoy every minute of it, but playing five practice sets was tiring

His eyelids grow heavier and his head staggers from right to left as the ride continues, accidentally landing on your shoulder.

“Sorry! I didn’t meant to–“

“D-Don’t worry, I want to sleep too so–“

‘Are you asking to–?’

“You can rest on my shoulder–If you want” you nod shyly causing Yamaguchi to stare at you shocked, he had never seen you this timid.

His brain freezes as he feels the weight of your head falling on his right shoulder, breath almost stoping when you snuggle a little more to find the best position to finally sleep.

“Thank you, Tadashi”, the loudness of his heartbeat nearly doesn’t let him hear your soft whisper.

Finally, he lets his head cautiously fall on top of yours as if he was scared to mess a single strand of your hair but not before he had taken the sight of you. Your face looked almost angelical as the sunlight poured throght the window onto your features, your breath slowing down continuously.

Yamaguchi truly never had felt this lucky.

///

Since then, you realized you did have feelings for the pinch server and even though he showed a little smile and a light blush now and then, you didn’t know if he felt the same. It was unknown to you that his chest brimmed with nervousness and excitement every time he was in your presence.

You’ve never felt this anxious before, and watching the cute, blushing exchanges between Yamaguchi and Yachi only made it worst. This time, Yachi almost passed away when a volleyball landed right next to her, Yamaguchi was quick getting the first-aid kit and sitting next to her. A bright red in both of their faces as he touched her hand, searching her pulse, making your eyes roll.

You hated going alone to the storage room, but you hated much more the ongoing scene in the gym.

Dust gets in your lungs, causing you to cough violently as you search for an old net in one of the shelves.

“Why nobody cleans this??”

“Y/N, do you need help?”

The moment you hear Yamaguchi’s voice you huff.

“No. I’m fine”

“But you can fall, Y/N. Let me reach that for you”

“Just let me do it!” you turn way too quickly to face him, losing your balance on the chair, falling forward.

Yamaguchi is fast grabbing your waist, but gravity had already pull you down by the time his hands secure you. Your chest crashes with his as your eyes close, his back landing with a loud thump over the wooden floor.

When you open your eyes again, your lips are on top of his. Yamaguchi’s eyes are still tightly shut, and you take the moment to feel his lips

‘Incredibly soft’.

You drift your stare from his lips to his face, his freckles almost disappearing for the shade of red that tints his cheeks. He is just so pretty!

“SORRY, Y/N!!” he moves his head away not giving you time to react, detaching his lips form yours.

“You didn’t like it?”

“I–Of course I did”

“Then why did you pull back–

“Y/N–

“No! Really, Tadashi, tell me. Just tell me you like Yachi, already!”, he blinks in confusion, his heartbeat hammers his ears as he feels numb by the words you’re about to say, “I like you Tadashi”

“But you’re out of my reach. I like you so much, but why would you–“, you grab his face with both of your hands, the urge to feel him, overwhelming you as you gaze at him overflowed by confidence

“Shut up and kiss me, Yamaguchi” you’re still on top of him and his hands find its way to your waist as you press him against you. The kiss is filled with your eagerness and soon is follow by Yamaguchi’s softness and tenderness, a little moan escapes his lips, making you smile.

The door opens for a second only to show Tsuki with disgust all over his face before he disappears again, causing you to break the kiss. His shy eyes look at you and pepper his beautiful freckles with kisses for reassurance.

“Don’t ever put yourself down in front of me Tadashi, ever”

A/N: I promise, now I’m gonna work in the event :3 Hopefully I can publish some of them in the next week, I have more math presentations xd

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

♡Thanks for reading ♡

@kouffee-ink

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doitjake · 3 years

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The music in us - P1

Jake kiszka x reader

warnings: none.

Requests: “two rockstars meeting in a festival, and both bands hanging out cause they are both friends with the struts, then jake starts falling in love w this person because of their personality, talent and charisma, they start to match in the second day of camping at the festival and then the bands have to play in the same day, jake tells his feeling and the reader doesn’t know how to react.”

A/N: this was an incredible request and I took a while to post it because I wanted it to be at least reasonable haha. this is the first part, i will probably post the second part on saturday or sunday. I hope you like it and if you want to see a specific scene in the second part comment here or you can send me a message / question!!

Requests here: https://forms.gle/6uMRSCzFvyR2FgZPA

Being in a band with your 2 best friends and your cousin is definitely awesome, until the first week.

"POPPY WHERE'S MY FUCKING HAIRBRUSH?" A super angry drummer was seen getting on the bus.

"Ana, can't you speak a sentence at a normal voice volume?" That was Lexa, our guitarist or our mother, whichever you prefer. She performs both functions very well.

"No, I can't." She walks over to Poppy and snatches her hairbrush out of her hand. "At least not when vocalists with superiority complexes steal my stuff." She walks to the small bathroom on the bus as Poppy showed her the middle finger.

Even inside the bus you could hear several bands doing sound checks and stages being finalized outside. We had arrived at the Summer Rock Festival a few hours ago, it would be three days of festival, we would perform on the second day, after our friends from The Struts and before the boys from Greta Van Fleet.

"Luke texted me, he and the boys are already heading to the bar." Lexa stands up fixing the bottom of her beautiful dress that looked like it was straight out of the 70's, "So if we don't want to be late our dear drummer had better get out of this fucking bathroom soon."

"Hey, no swearing, Mom." I walk past her grabbing my leather jacket from the seat. "Ana! Let's go!"

By the time Lexa and Poppy are outside I am trying to find my cell phone amidst a pile of clothes, Ana finally comes out of the bathroom.

"Cousins by chance, twins by choice." She pulls up the sleeves of her jacket, just like mine, smiling at me.

I find my cell phone and slip my arm over Ana's shoulders, leading us to the bus door.

"Did I mention I hate you?" I ask coming down the small staircase and find Poppy and Lexa waiting for us to go.

"Hm, I guess not today yet." She goes to Poppy's side and pats her chin. "Stop drooling, Poppy."

Lexa and I turn to where Poppy was looking and find the 4 boys from Greta taking their instruments off the bus, about 50 feet away from us.

"Fuck you, Ana," Poppy starts walking towards the exit of the festival, where there is an avenue full of bars, nightclubs, strip clubs and karaoke places.

In less than 10 minutes we had already arrived at the bar and before we even entered Jed already called us shouting. "Hey, girls! Over here!"

It was always really cool to hang out with the boys, we knew each other because of Jed and Adam being friends with Poppy's older brother. We joined them and other people from the crew and some other artists at the festival and less than 2 minutes later several bottles of beer were already on the tables.

I looked at my band mates, we spend so much time together that it is fun to analyze them socializing with other people besides ourselves.

Poppy was probably the most outgoing of us, everyone liked her, she was always nice and polite to everyone and it was amazing to see men with long beards and leather vests making fun of a girl singing rock and then Poppy shutting them up, either with her talent or her knowledge.

Lexa was so calm that it is still shocking to me to see her play and totally transform on stage. She had a 70's hippie style that matched perfectly with her long blond hair and delicate features.

And Ana, my band mate that I have known all my life, my younger cousin. Certainly the strongest personality among the four of us, her life revolved around music, and I loved that about her.

Oh, of course. There's me too, but I don't think it's worth describing myself too much. I'm probably too dull around them. I wasn't outgoing like Poppy, I wasn't charming like Lexa, and I definitely didn't have as much personality as Ana.

My God, what a depression. I need another drink, one stronger than beer.

"Hey, I'm going to go to the bar. I'll be right back." I speak to Lexa receiving a nod in response.

Reaching over I choose the only drink capable of cheering me up.

"A shot of Jack Daniels. No ice please" I speak loudly so the bartender can hear through the music of The Who playing at the bar.

"I always thought it was the guitar players who were more into whiskey" A husky voice came over the music right in my right ear. "I thought bass players were more into vodka"

And then the seat next to me was taken by Jake Kiszka, guitarist for Greta Van Fleet, well I definitely can't compare to Poppy on the subject of "GVF FANGIRL", but wow.

"What about the vocalists and drummers?" I asked as the bartender left the shot of Jack Daniels in front of me.

"Vocalists? Probably some weird drink and drummers for sure are the beer guys." He smiles and turns the stool around facing me "I'm Jake" He holds out his hand to you.

"Y/N" I hold his hand.

"The bass player who made my theory go down the drain." He laughs arching an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe I'm an exception.

"Yeah, maybe there was a glitch in the matrix." He turns to call the bartender. "May I imitate you?" He indicates my glass with his head.

"You're the guitar player here, I think I'm the one copying you." I smile at him and he reciprocates, and shit, why do I think I could stare at him smile forever? And then I feel an arm on my shoulders.

"So you mean my friends are friends, and I didn't know?" Luke leaned one arm on me and the other on Jake, clearly not sober anymore. "Come on over to the table, antisocial people, your bands are waiting."

Luke releases our shoulders and looks at us. "Or are you guys busy planning to pick each other up?"

I could feel all my blood rising to my cheeks in a second, and thank God I had already swallowed the whiskey, otherwise I probably would have spit it all out.

"Of course not Luke." I gave a nervous laugh praying that I could disguise my embarrassment. Which only increased when Jake tilted his head to the side looking at me and gave a weak laugh and then getting up to walk over to the table.

Now there were more people at the table, including the other three members of Greta, and I sat down between Adam and Ana. "Please dig a hole and stick me in" I whispered to my cousin.

"With pleasure." She winked and smiled at me, "But may I know why?"

With the music loud and our friends talking around us I had to lean 'round to whisper right into her ear. "I was talking to Jake Kiszka and then Luke came over and thought we were going to kiss and I looked like an idiot."

"You always look like an idiot, cousin." He whispered in response. "But you want to kiss him?" Ana smiled mischievously.

"Oh my god, I was just talking to him."

"Well, you should kiss him, he's handsome." She picks up her beer and offers me a bottle.

"You say that because you have a crush on his twin." I open my bottle as I watch Ana choke on her own beer and cast a quick glance at Josh. "Oh come on, you can't disguise yourself." I laugh slapping our bottles together before taking a long sip.

"I don't have a crush on him." Ana squirms in her chair uncomfortably. "He's the lead singer, he has several women after him, and he must have a superiority complex just like Poppy."

"He seems pretty cool!"

"Y/N! ANA!" Poppy's voice managed without louder than the music in the bar, causing us to turn around and find 10 pairs of eyes staring at us. "Are you guys deaf?"

As I run my gaze around the table I realize that all the boys' crew have left, now it's just us, the boys from The Struts and Greta Van Fleet.

"Hm, hey!" I reply before Ana has a chance to cuss Poppy out.

"We're going to karaoke, the bar closes early today." Gethin gets up from the table, being followed by his bandmates, Josh, Sam, Danny, Poppy and Lexa.

"I'm in!" Ana stands up.

"I'm going back to the bus, I don't have as much energy as you guys." I stand up grabbing my cell phone and wallet.

"Let's go together." Jake speaks and I realize that he was the only one who hadn't gotten up until now.

"Ok" I say trying to look calm and not knowing why I am nervous, like a teenage girl who likes the popular boy.

I say goodbye to everyone and when I pass by Ana she winks at me, in a not discreet way.

After we pay for our drinks, Jake and I head out onto the streets of Chicago to return to the festival.

"Excited for tomorrow?" Jake asks as we cross one of the avenue streets.

"For sure, tomorrow and our days will have the best shows!" I look at him. "I feel like I might faint just remembering that I'm going to see Steven Tyler live tomorrow." He throws his head back and laughs. "Now you think I'm some kind of crazy fangirl." I smile.

"Oh, of course not." Jake returns the smile by looking at me. "The chances of me passing out at the Stones concert are not small either."

"So, you're a 'fangirl' for Keith Richards?"

"Definitely." He laughs again shaking his head.

"Does that mean that for you 'team stones' is right?

"Well, it's certainly a tough contest, but yes 'team stones'." He turns to me with the corners of his lips raised. "Team Beatles?"

"And a George stan with pride." I smile and wink at him amused. "Okay, important question."

"Okay, speak." Jake runs his fingers through the strands of hair that fall down the side of his face.

"Pearl Jam or Nirvana?"

"Is there a right answer?" He asks and I arch an eyebrow at him. "Okay, hm, Nirvana."

"You had a right answer! And you got it wrong." I smile. "Come on, Eddie Veder is almost a God."

Jake laughs and brings his hands in front of his body in a sign of redemption. "I don't disagree!"

And then I realize that we arrived at the festival some time ago and are now facing my bus.

"Thank you so much, for walking me here." I say to him, climbing up the first step of the entrance stairs, almost standing the same height as Jake.

"You're welcome!" He gives me a smile and puts his hands in the pockets of his black skinny pants. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

You smile at him and Jake moves closer and deposits a kiss on your cheek.

"Bye!"

“Bye, Jake!”

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet imagine #gvf #gvf imagine #jake kiszka gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #fanfic #imagine #jake imagines #jake x reader #jacob kiszka

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carry-on-calum · 3 years

Text

Alone | Hanbin

Hi there. I’m currently writing one-shots when I have the time and posting them on Wattpad. I thought I would post them here too just for a better chance at feedback. So if you enjoy this, I would love to hear your thoughts. ♡

word count: 3.1k

prompt: “Unique just means alone.”

You can't remember the last time you felt so utterly bored in a while. Loud music and drunk teens attempting to scream over it fill the air around you, reminding you that you're nowhere near alone, and yet you can't help but feel the exact opposite.

Senior year was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be everything you thought it would be when you first entered high school, fifteen and bright-eyed, ready to begin what was supposed to be some of the best years of your life. But now, at eighteen and graduation awaiting you, you can't help but want something more than getting shit-faced every weekend and attending every single lame party happening just so you can say you were there when school comes around again the following Monday.

"Y/N!" You look up at the sound of your name, gaze finding Audrey, your best friend, with a small white ping pong ball clutched in her fist. "Come play beer pong with us!"

You can tell she's had too much to drink already and while you shake your head at her with a reassuring smile, one hand pointing to your drink to indicate you're going to get a refill, you can't help but hope that she won't be adding onto your headache later no matter how much you love her.

When you stand up from the couch you had been reserving for the last thirty minutes, you have every intention of heading into the kitchen and finding something strong to make you lighten up, but when your gaze finds glass double doors leading to the patio in the backyard, you can't help but allow your feet to carry you in that direction instead. It's January and freezing outside, keeping most of the teenagers in with the heat blasting and taking care of what the warm beer coursing through their bodies is lacking. You're grateful for the quiet, the only sound being heard coming from the vibrations of the loud music inside and the occasional sound of the city not too far away. You're sure you're alone, but the sound of a cough quickly shuts that idea down.

With your gaze shooting to the right of you, an embarrassed-looking boy sits on a wooden swing, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his puffy coat. His dark eyes are already looking at you, but you're too busy taking in the pink tip of his nose, the same color tinting the color of his cheeks, as well as the wind-swept strands of brown hair brushing across his forehead. He's cute and you recognize him.

"Hanbin," you say, seemingly surprising the Korean boy as he stares back at you, puffy pink lips parting and then closing again, seemingly out of habit, before he's finally changing his mind and making the decision to speak.

"Sorry," is what he responds with in a quick breath. If it wasn't so cold outside, you would attribute his flushed cheeks to the embarrassment he so clearly feels. "I didn't mean to disturb you. It's just pretty cold out here," he admits, sniffling afterwards as if to prove his point.

He's right. It's freezing outside and you wish you had brought a jacket, your white sweater definitely cute, but not doing you any favors in protecting you against the cold January air.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to the side slightly. "Why are you out here?" You ask, disregarding his apology from before. You're not sure why he's offered you one to begin with.

The question seems to catch him off guard, and for a moment, he doesn't seem to know how to respond. Again, you can tell he's embarrassed, which seems to happen easily for him, and you almost feel bad, wondering if it comes across as though you're badgering him.

Just as you're about to change the subject, he responds. "Honestly, it's better than being in there," he tells you, his response slow, as if thinking over his words carefully so as not to offend you.

"Then why did you come?" You ask in confusion, your breath creating a small white cloud to flow from your mouth.

Hanbin shrugs his shoulders then. "My friend dragged me here, really. Jiwon loves parties," he admits, making you raise an eyebrow.

"Bobby?" You ask, making the Korean boy nod. You knew his real name was Jiwon, but most people from school called him Bobby. You were sure that the two boys were just so close that Bobby was a nickname for others to use, if anything, and you can't help but smile a little bit at the use of his real name by the boy in front of you.

"I usually don't come to these things, but he convinced me for once. Not my finest moment," Hanbin admits with a little bit of a chuckle, making a smile cross your lips as you glance back through the glass double doors where your classmates are still partying.

You can see Bobby nearby, the purple-haired boy in a game of beer pong with your best friend and apparently winning if the two of them high-fiving dramatically is any indication. You've known Bobby to be the loud, party-animal trope that people love to be around. And while you've seen Hanbin hanging around him before, at least at school, you've never taken a true notice of him before.

"Honestly," you finally say, taking a careful seat next to him, "I don't blame you. I wasn't having much fun in there either," you admit, fingers wrapping around the edge of the wooden swing beneath you. You only keep them there for a moment before sliding them beneath your thighs in search of warmth.

Returning your gaze to Hanbin, you find him already looking at you. "Is it okay if I sit out here with you?"

It takes a moment for the brown-eyed boy to respond, his gaze shifting to the party still going on inside, and then finally back to you. He seems somewhat confused, as if wondering why on earth you would want to spend your time out here with him than partying inside, but he doesn't question it.

He simply nods, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards at the thought of someone wanting to spend their time with him.

♡♡♡

If there's one thing you learn from spending time with Hanbin, it's that he's so skeptical. After spending the rest of the night together at the party, you found that you liked just talking to him. He's unlike the people you usually spend your time with, every moment with him feeling like a fresh of breath air after feeling as though you've been stuck with your head underwater. But the more time with him that you spend, you can tell that the more the Korean boy is confused by your actions.

You can't help but think about it as the two of you hang out in his room. You're laying across his bed as he sits on the other side, eyes focused on his long fingers gripping the pencil he uses to work on his homework. You could probably be doing the same thing, especially with the opportunity to have his help, but you can't bring yourself to waste your time on that when you'd much rather watch the pretty boy as he does his own. Another thing you've learned from hanging out with him; it's way too easy to get lost in anything he does.

"Do I make you nervous?"

The question comes out of nowhere after the two of you have been sitting in silence for so long, him working on his homework and you admiring him, so Hanbin is a little surprised when he glances up at you, brown eyes wider than usual, dark pink lips parted slightly as he lets out a noise of confusion.

"I just mean," you begin, shifting closer to him on his bed, now laying on you're stomach as you look up at him, forearms supporting yourself on the mattress, "You seem so hesitant around me. Like you're not sure what to do with me around," you admit, holding his gaze in an effort to see any sort of answer that his mouth might not give away.

He doesn't answer right away. His gaze does shift from yours though, instead staring blankly at the words of his textbook. You know he's not really reading anything in there, so you don't say anything, instead waiting for an answer that feels like it might not ever come until it does.

"I don't have friends," is his response, and then as if regretting it immediately, Hanbin curses under his breath and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before continuing. "I mean, I know I have Jiwon and some people I talk to from school, but new friends... Everyone thinks I'm weird."

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you shake your head. "I don't think you're weird," you answer immediately, tone slightly indignant because you can't wrap your head around why he would believe something like that.

"I know," he answers with a small smile, the softness in his tone matching his eyes, "But that doesn't mean everyone else doesn't."

The way Hanbin responds bothers you. It's almost resigned, like he knows this is just a fact and he can do nothing about it; like breathing. It makes something inside of you shift uncomfortably, wondering how he could accept something so easily when it's not true. You've been around a lot of people, many of them considered popular or likeable, and for the life of you, you can't think of anyone who compares to the way Hanbin makes you feel.

"You're not, like, weird, or something," you say again, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips at the thought of him believing otherwise. Then, with more confidence, "Hanbin, you are one of the most unique people I have ever met."

You think he's going to smile, that his spirits might be lifted and he'll stop being so hard on himself. He'll realize that he's so much more than what some ignorant high school kids think about him, especially when they've never taken the time to get to know him. But when he does smile, it's small, barely tugging the corners of his lips upwards, and you can feel your heart sink a little bit when he finally responds.

"Unique just means alone."

♡♡♡

Unique just means alone.

Hanbin's words replay in your head more than you would like them to. You don't bring it up again, knowing he would only brush it off and give you that same resigned behavior he had before, but the words never leave your head, eating away at you the more they sink into your soul. You can only imagine how he must feel by accepting it.

You're still thinking about it as you stuff books into your locker at the end of the day, ready to go home, to spend the weekend away from anything to do with school and everything to do with the brown-eyed boy who makes your heart warm. You figure you two will hang out like you've been doing for the last month or so now, it sort of being a routine at this point. The thought makes you smile because even though it's routine at this point, nothing about spending time with Hanbin ever feels redundant.

Slipping the lock around the metal door once you've closed it, your hand is reaching for the strap of your bag to lift and slide over your shoulder when you hear the sound of your name being called, gaze rising to see one of your best friends getting closer.

"Audrey, hey," you breathe out with a grin spreading across your face. "What are you doing?" You ask, shifting your bag over your shoulder into a more comfortable position.

"Nothing, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go to Eli's tonight. He's having a party at his parents' cabin," she explains with a grin, green eyes as excited as the tone of her voice.

At the mention of a party, you can almost feel your smile fall from your face. You hadn't realized it until now, but the last party you attended was the night you met Hanbin. You were getting tired of them at that point anyway, but it doesn't make you feel any less guilty for the way you slowly shift on your feet, arms crossing over your sweater as you shrug your small shoulders.

"I sort of already have plans," you finally admit, almost immediately noticing the way Audrey's face falls slightly. "I'm really sorry, I just- I'm not into it much anymore."

"Ever since you started hanging out with him, you mean."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you feel your body tense up. She doesn't have to say Hanbin's name to know that's who she's talking about and she's aware of that as well by the expression on your face.

"Hanbin has nothing to do with it," comes your slow reply, gauging the tension suddenly building between the two of you. You've had small arguments before, but friends always fight. But you've also never seen your friend look at you the way she is now.

"Really?" Audrey retorts, eyebrows raising as if to say yeah right, "You spend all your time with him. You never come out anymore, I can barely keep a conversation with you over text, and you don't even sit with me at lunch. You're, like, wasting all your time with some boy you would never even look twice at, obviously, and I don't understand it," she finally breathes out, her rant leaving her sounding slightly breathless and you wish she had run out of it before finishing.

There's no question that Hanbin is someone you wouldn't usually spend your time with. That was also when you cared more about fitting in and being liked and not so much about the quality of the people you were hanging around all the time. If you had always cared more about that, instead of your previous priorities, Hanbin would have been the exact person you would have wanted to be around.

"Even if he wasn't in the picture," you begin, an edge to your tone that you can't keep at bay, "I would still be bored out of my fucking mind hanging out with people like you every day. You don't know him, wouldn't waste your time getting to know him, and that's okay. But that doesn't make him any less of the amazing person that he is because you think otherwise. So don't talk about him again," you all but spit out at her, watching the way she parts her lips in surprise, a small scoff of disbelief leaving her mouth as you turn to leave.

"Oh, and I hope you find someone new to sit at lunch with," you call over your shoulder, not bothering to turn back once more.

♡♡♡

It's hours later that you're sitting outside on Hanbin's back porch, the two of you wrapped up in the same blanket and cradling mugs of hot cocoa as you still seethe over what Audrey had said. You know none of it is true, and really you don't care about her opinion, but it still bothers you to hear anyone speak so poorly of the Korean boy when he's been nothing but a breath of fresh air for you; a way to ease your soul.

"Are you gonna tell me about it?" comes Hanbin's question after about ten minutes of silence. You hadn't realized you were being so quiet, but of course he did. He always took notice.

You don't want to upset him by explaining what Audrey had said, nor do you want to get yourself angry again, so you take the simple route by shaking your head, forcing a small smile on your lips in an attempt to appease him even the slightest bit.

"Nothing is wrong, Bin," you breathe out, the nickname falling off your tongue so effortlessly that one might think the two of you have known each other for years. "I just had a bad day at school. I don't have any classes with you," you joke, making the dark-haired boy smile a little bit.

It's silent again then for a moment and you busy yourself with raising your mug to your lips, the cocoa still hot and nearly burning your tongue just before it makes its way down your throat. It's when you lower the hot ceramic from your mouth that you take a moment to look at the boy next to you. Everything seems to slow down then when you realize he's already looking your way and it's in the blink of an eye that he's looking at you, glancing down at your lips, and then leaning over, his head ducking down to connect your mouth to his.

The kiss is nice and slow, warm in ways that the hot cocoa in your mug could never be, and you feel like your stomach is doing flips inside of you. It's February now and still freezing around you, but you've never felt warmer with Hanbin's mouth pressed to yours, his free hand reaching up to cup your face, thumb sliding gently over the apple of your cheek.

When he finally does take a break, mouths reluctantly separating, you feel breathless, his face still close and his warm pink mouth still breathing into your own. Your eyes must hold a question in them because Hanbin is the first to speak, sounding a little breathless himself.

"I heard what you said about me earlier," he explains, a small cloud hanging between the two of you when he speaks. It takes you a moment to catch on, but when you do, he continues. "Audrey was talking about it in the parking lot after school and I overheard her."

Almost immediately you feel guilty, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. "Hanbin," you begin in a whisper, "What she said isn't true and-"

"I know," he interrupts with a shake of his head, dismissing it completely. "I mean, even if it is, I don't care. I'm just glad she said it," he says with a soft chuckle, causing you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"Why?" You ask, meeting his brown-eyed gaze as he smiles, face getting closer to yours again until his lips are brushing against your mouth, warm breath breathing life into you again.

"Because now I know I'm not alone."

#ikon #ikon bi #kim hanbin #ikon imagines #kpop imagines #kpop #ikon scenarios #carryoncalumwrites

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snowboiwinwin · 3 years

Note

Hello! If it's okay, can I ask for a "Day6 as boyfriends" post?? Thank you and take care 😘😘

Thank you very much for requesting! Hope you’re well and enjoy this little something I came up with 😘🥰

--------------------------------------------

Sungjin:

I honestly love this guy

he isn’t one to seek attention or one to speak up

but i feel like he truly cares and loves with his whole heart

he may seem a little cold on the outside but he is such a sweetheart

so please do not expect him to be huge into PDA

he might have an arm around your waist if you’re in crowded places but other than that? nothing

around the boys he is also distanced

his reputation as leader could be at risk

but when the boys tease him of how cold he acts, he sulks and defends himself but then smooches your face

just to prove a point, not because he is absolutely in love with you, lol

dates with him are always super laid back

a nice dinner at home, movies and snacks

not much but exactly how you like it

Sungjin might be distanced by day but by night he NEEDS your affection and touch

please hold him while sleeping, play with his hair and just love him

i also get the vibes from him that he is quite insecure

he might seem confident but he needs quite a lot of reassurance

just please love him and make him feel like the king he is

“Did you know, that you are the man of my dreams? Like seriously, there is no one else that has ever made me feel this way. I love you handsome, I truly do.”

*blushes hardcore and slightly slaps you shoulder* Ahhhh stop it! You make me feel all mushy and soft.... but I love you too and I’m a very lucky man to be able to call you mine.”

“Look at you, being a bluhsing mess... declaring your love for me. Cute.”

“I’m not cute, I am sexy. Now please shut up and focus on the movie.”

Jae:

dude, Jae literally screams boyfriend material

he would be an amazing byofriend

not too lovey dovey and he will roast your ass whenever there is an opportunity to do so

while Sungjin will give you cute nicknames like “love” and “babe”, Jae will just call you “dude”, “bro”, or “buddy”

but to be honest? that’s why a relationship with him would be so chill and refreshing, it’s different - in a good way

Jae is a sleepy boyfriend, so PDA is a regular occurence

he always holds you somehow

either your hands, or his body flung over yours

he is not too much into public kisses though

maybe he will kiss your cheek or your hand but that’s it

dates with him will be so fun as well

you guys will usually just play video games together

and even if you are not that much into gaming, you will be when you’re with Jae

sometimes, when you’re too tired, he will play and have you in his lap

nothing is more relaxing than leaning against him while he talks in his calm, deep and soothing voice

although he is a fun guy, he is super loving

he will brush your hair for you, tell you he loves you 90 times a day and he will constantly remind you of how beautiful you are

i feel like Jae also struggles with his confidence from time to time, so he knows how important reassurance is!

please make sure to remind him that you love him and that he is more than just enough!

“Dude, don’t look at yourself like that! You look like an absolute goddess! And I’m not just saying this because I’m whipped for you but because you truly are a blessing to my eyes. If someone dares to say otherwise, they obviously have never seen your sexy ass and need to get their eyes fixed. Sheesh, I really got lucky.”

“Oh Jae, I love you.”

“I love you too, sexy beast.”

“Please... you’re ruining the mood.”

Young K:

oh please, he is an awkward baby

super loving and so head over heels in love with you

but SO awkward

he is always a bit torn between being the lovey dovey boyfriend and being a badass guy

the boys tease him constantly, even worse than Sungjin

so sometimes you will get showered with kisses and physical touch

other times he will treat you like one of his brothers

which is fine by you, as long as you get to spend time with Brian

btw, you also tend to call him Brian, which he loves

it makes him feel like a kid in love

i mean he is in love and sometimes a kid - but you know what I mean

PDA is as I said, something he isn’t always too fond of but sometimes he loves it and will show everyone that you’re his

weirdly enough, Young K is obssessed with your butt

when you guys are cuddling

he tends to lay his head on your butt and just relax there

butt massages are also a thing

he loves you, a lot

no doubt

dates with him are always a surprise

one day you guys will just chill, maybe write songs in the studio

and on other days you will do something more active

like hiking, going to the arcade or just simply taking walks in nearby parks

he is a pretty confident guy and rarely gets jealous

so he does expect you to be the same

he wants you to feel confident cause he only loves you

there’s no doubt he would ever want anyone else

so when you get jealous, he will take it very personal

he loves you so much and you think he might be interessted in someone else?

“Babe, listen. I find this accusation very offensive. I love you so much, you are the only woman for me. Why would I be looking for someone else, when I have you? Aka everything I will ever need? Don’t let other peoples stares make you feel insecure. The only thing that matters is us.”

“I’m sorry Brian. It’s just... you could have anyone. Yet you chose me.”

“Because all I want is YOU. There’s no one else, you are my person! I love you.”

Wonpil:

omg he is literally the cutest

but probably also quite savage

idk i just find him extremely funny

i think he is more on the shy side

he isn’t too overly affectionate

so please do not expect him to show any type of PDA

not in public and not with the boys

you will get treated like another member

this might be hard sometimes

especially if you are super affectionate (like me)

but he will make sure to make you feel loved to cease all your doubts

actions speak louder than words

definitely something he lives by, no doubt

he will spoil you with nice and romantic dates

omg for dates he will go all out

he will cook, decorate the house with rose petals, light candles

the whole shabang

another thing i believe to be true is that he will treat you in a super gentle and respectful way (all the boys will, but just saying)

i think Wonpil is the type of boyfriend that will constantly ask for permission, no matter what he does and no matter how long you’ve been dating

he is way too scared to do something you will not be comfortable or okay with, so he will always make sure you are absolutely fine with everything he does

“baby? can I kiss you?”

“Wonpil, we’ve been dating for how long? 2 years? Yes, you can absolutely kiss me, no need to ask!”

“but what if you don’t want me to kiss you? and i just put my lips onto yours? I don’t want to force you.”

“Dude, as long as I am dating you, i want to kiss you 24/7! even when i’m mad, i will always crave your kisses.”

“Don’t dude me! You’re spending too much time with Jae... now please let me kiss you. Thank you.”

ugh I just love this guy

he is so cute and beautiful

and his vocals... imagine him singing you to sleep

i gotta go cry my eyes out now, cause I will never find myself a Wonpil 😭

Dowoon:

last but not least, our maknae!

he is literally so sweet and HILARIOUS

the vlog where the attempts to talk in English?

duuuude I died

so I feel like, althouhg he tends to be an awkward bean too, he will constantly make you laugh

he will make a fool of himself, diss the others, talk in English...

anything to make his baby happy!

he will also shower you with aegyo

i just feel it haha

PDA is also a no no for him, he rather saves all the love and affection for when you’re both at home

with affection i mean cuddles 24/7 in bed, kisses (even with morning breath cause nothing stops Dowoon’s love for you) and loads of head massages

ugh he is a sucker for head scratches

i can slo see him trying to teach you how to play the drums

he will even take days off, just to be able to teach you

let me tell you, he ADORES you

please do not play him

you mean the world to him and he appreciates you sticking with him throughout his crazy and hectic life

there will be moments where he just stares at you with literal heart eyes

he finds it hard to believe that he got this lucky

and please, do not ever try to make him jealous...

he will be the poutiest baby EVER

*pouts and waits for you to ask him what’s wrong*

*but you ignore him, so he starts making weird sounds*

“what? you big baby.”

“I’m hurt by you.”

“I’m so sorry that I breathe the same air as Jackson Wang. I will suffocate the next time he is close to me.”

“THANK YOU! it would be very much appreciated.”

#day6 #scenario #headcanon #sungjin #jae #young k #wonpil #dowoon #kpop

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kaypeace21 · 3 years

Note

i’m a survivor too, and i found that certain scenes/stuff will said just really struck me as ‘csa-survivor’-like? i felt a bit uncomfortable about headcanoning it happening to someone else, especially for a fandom as wild as this one, but your metas have really been a comfort to me because they’ve been able to pick out and explain things that i couldn’t necessarily find the words for myself.

and yeah, i would love to have a character like me that is powerful and who finds love and who gets a happy ending. the people who call the theory disgusting always kinda hit wrong with me because although csa is a difficult subject, we shouldn’t be ashamed about sharing it. they sound like they’re trying to say that it’s a bad topic to talk about and implying that it can’t happen to kids, which uhhhhh-

(i’m sure that’s not what they mean, precisely, but it’s still what they sound like, and i wish that they would stop implying that we can’t exist, especially in popular media. we do, and i’m not gonna pretend we don’t, and if they feel uncomfortable with the topic they can just use the block button. we deserve to have some well written representation just as much as anyone else. also, i really really hope that will gets a happy ending.)

anywayyyy i love your theories and i can see your post in the tag so i think you’re fine?? have a good day ❤️❤️❤️

SORRY, this ask took so long to respond to. It always warms my heart to hear other survivors speak and say they found comfort in my theory.

Yes, I think I and a lot of c*a/r*pe victims (subconscious or otherwise) were triggered by some of the symbolism/visuals in s1-3. And s3 made it hard for most of us to ignore the past imagery- since s3 wasn’t as subtle.

I get why people have reservations about the theory. But the debates to the contrary are usually just plain offensive. Or people trying to be respectful but being the opposite. There’s the obvious bad-apples . I got many anons after part 1 of my DID theory saying it “ruined/tainted byler”, and “if that happened to Will i’ll stop shipping byler” , or that it “ruins the best gay character” , and to “remove the post immediately”. And this was when I was open about being a gay c*a victim. I obviously blocked them. Many survivors don’t come forward because they’re afraid people will see them as “tainted”, “ruined”, “ just their trauma”, or blame them for what happened. So yeah, it pisses me off when people say similar stuff about Will (and thus other c*a victims). Not even diving into the messed up psychology about byler/mileven shippers (knowing i was a lesbian c*a victim) but purposely spreading bs rumors about me being a p*do that was into Will/Noah-all because of the theory. -_-

Then there’s the people who try to be “respectful” but literally do the opposite.

I’ve heard numerous times it’s somehow “less offensive” to just use r*pe imagery to make monsters scary. Rather than have the monsters have that imagery cause Will created the monsters from his memory/imagination-and st is a story of Will healing from that trauma. SORRY- I disagree. Using the worst experiences of peoples’ lives (and triggering their trauma) for no real purpose- except to make their monsters scarier to the normal/general audience who haven’t gone through it so won’t be triggered like us - is MORE OFFENSIVE to victims! NOT LESS! At least to me.

Then there’s the people who say “c*a should never be talked about (in stories).” Which I disagree with. V*ctims have already been told by ab*ser’s and enablers of the ab*ser- to never talk about what happened to us . So it rubs A LOT of us the wrong way when people say this. Because (subconscious or not) you remind some of us of the people who used to hurt/silence us. People say this -simply for their convenience (like ab*sers) and cause deep down they’re uncomfortable with our existence and equate the despicable act to us the innocent v*ctim ...or just want to deny the horrible reality of the situation (like many enablers who deny the truth and hurt us because they don’t want to accept reality) . And 1) It brings us back to a time where they told us to NEVER talk about it- and makes us feel like we did something wrong when we didn’t! 2) Every psych professional says with-holding/keeping the ab*se a secret is detrimental to our mental health.

Plus, there’s a HUGE difference between sugarcoating/minimizing trauma or WORSE glamorizing, condoning, or romanticizing C*A in stories (ex: pretty little liars) VS showing how the action is wrong, causes trauma, but showing recovery and happiness is still possible for v*ctims. if the story shows how accurately traumatizing it is (instead of minimizing/glamorizing it)- it’s incredibly rare for that character to get a happy ending. Having a story about recovering from that type of trauma and finding happiness despite such hardships would be amazing for US survivors! We rarely get stories with a happy ending- it’s more harmful to us survivors to never see ourselves get happy endings in tv/film/books. How can some survivors (in a dark place) think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel- if it’s never shown?Also if Will has DID too- it’s good mental health rep, along with queer rep (and survivor’s rep.) All 3 groups rarely are treated well or get happy endings in media. A lot of people may feel more heard, seen, and a bit more hopeful for the future - If Will (and other characters) get a happy ending.

And even though st has many themes- like say homophobia. To try and hand-wave all the disturbing r*pe imagery away as ‘Will is just gay so the monsters are like that”. IS SOOOOOO offensive. Trigger warning for examples. I’m sorry what part of Max saying when Billy had c*nsensual s*x it’s “good screams” but when possessed by the mf he causes Heather to do “bad screams” read as gay???! Having the possessed ch*ke/dr*g people before throwing them in trunks (like it’s implied Lonnie did to Will -since Jonathan checked Lonnie’s trunk for Will in s1)?Tying their arms and legs up/ g*ging them and getting on top of them and saying “stay VERY still it’ll all be over soon”-before a monster shoves it’s tentacle into someone’s mouth and inserts a goo - just gay??? Similar to the sentient vine/shadow monster forcing itself down Will’s throat. Let alone Will saying things like “he made me do it”, “i felt it everywhere”, or being tied to a bed and screaming “help! stop! it hurts! let me go!” While Jonathan is the only one who’s visibly triggered by this and has to literally turn away and hug someone . Or barb, billy, and El spiting up a white liquid from their mouth (similar to will spitting up a slug and lying to his mother about it ).El/billy touching a suspicious looking slime with their hand and looking at the substance confused . El drawing Papa with 3 legs (the middle one being shorter) , trying to undress in front of the boys , and Benny saying “I think she’s been ab*sed or something”.The theme of ab*sive dads- brenner , Lonnie, and Neil . Even when the demogorgan (called in d&d the “deep father”/ in the show “a man without a face”) attacked Barb it’s chopped up with scenes of Nancy having c*nsensual sex (the monsters are doing the opposite symbolically). There’s way more examples but NO- to try and hand wave /equate ALL OF THIS to just “gay imagery” or an “a*ds metaphor” is WAY more problematic. And just offensive (specifically to gay people) than just admitting what it may actually represent. R*pe imagery and gay imagery is NOT THE SAME THING!

Also ST has never been a kid show- maybe rewatch the show and see the rating of tv-14 . Goodness sake- s1 has a st*ged su*icde, k*dnappings, m*rder, discussions of physics, h*mophobia, and s*x (with stancy in s1 & jancy in s2-s3). S2/3 discuss at their finalies recovering from tra*ma . S2 had gra*ic de*ths, a man causing a women br*in damage/ and faking her m*scarriage, and a gang of vigalantes k*lling criminals. s3 had critiques on capitalism /media/s*xism, many d*eaths, and questionable imagery like the prior seasons. The Duffers constantly reference movies & events from the 80s (capitalizing on 80s nostalgia /subverting 80s motifs that middle age people from that time remember)! Those people were their intended age demographic . Most 80s centric refs go over most kids’ heads (heck a lot went over my head too since I wasn’t alive in the 80s XD).The Duffers even said in the book “worlds turned upsidedown” “it’s not a kid’s show despite having kids”. And maybe it’s a coincidence but when Lucas in s3 hands Will the “devil’s baby” firework (a hint about Lonnie) he says “18 and over only.” Which idk is a weird/random af line unless it’s foreshadowing that the show will get darker about various themes- and maybe even change ratings.

I get people wishing nothing bad ever happened to Will or Jonathan. And being apprehensive and not trusting the Duffers to do such a story justice (cause it’s difficult to do). But personally i trust them to do so tastefully with tact and not be exp*itative, (overly gr*fic) or offensive to v*ctims. You can disagree and think the show is about something else (or not trust the Duffers)- but it’d be great if people could stop using these other messed up talking points. While trying to appear ‘(fake) woke’ and like they care for victims- cause we see through it that you really don’t.

Have a lovely day anon ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Update- I just really agreed with and appreciate the tags in this reblog

#tw: csa #tw:r*pe

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squirmymochi · 4 years

Text

Hello again! This story was commissioned by a lovely repeat customer and I got permission to post it for y’all to enjoy. Hope you like it!

***

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Connor chants along with the other boys as Jack downs the rest of his beer, his throat working up and down as he drinks. His sweat glistens slightly against his skin, catching the mid-morning light as he tips his head back to finish the last few drops before gasping in a breath of air and crushing the empty can in his hands.

“Yeah!” Will cheers from the passenger’s seat, laughing goofily. “Didn’t think you could actually do it!”

“Did he finish?” Henry asks, taking his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to glance backwards at Jack. Connor doesn’t really mind--they haven’t seen another car in at least five minutes, and the expanse of road ahead of them is as straight as an arrow and smooth like glass.

The four of them are on a road trip, having finished their third year of college together a couple of short weeks ago, and in order to save money on gas they’d decided to pile into Henry’s old four-person car instead of taking two separate vehicles. It’s a little bit cramped, and very hot with their combined body temperatures warming up the small space, but luckily enough, Jack had the foresight to fill one of their mini coolers with sodas and beer, squeezing it between his and Connor’s feet in the backseat.

Connor’s pretty sure he’d have already died of heatstroke if it weren’t for Jack’s smart thinking. His smarts are one of the few things Connor admires about him--As the brain of the group, Jack always has the solution for any problem, and he’s kind enough not to judge, either. Before Connor came out to Henry and Will, the two of them had found a gay porn magazine stashed beneath his dorm room bed, and all it had taken was a panicked look towards Jack for his friend to jump to his defense with an excuse about art majors and the human figure.

Connor is pretty sure that’s the moment he fell for Jack. (Fell hard.)

Unfortunately, his crush (which has since spiraled into something much more) is just about the one problem Jack can’t fix for him. Connor’s three closest friends may know that he plays for the other team now, but that doesn’t mean they share the sentiment at all. He’s spent a lot of time trying to convince himself otherwise, but he always circles back around to Jack being straight.

That doesn’t mean he can’t admire his friend from afar, though, and admire he does. Like now, for instance, as Jack lets out a long sigh and wipes the sweat from his brow with the hand still holding his beer can, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Damn, that was good,” he says, his voice low and smooth, turning to glance at Connor. “You’d better catch up, man. That was my second.”

“I’m almost done,” Connor retorts, lifting his own can to his lips. “Not everyone can swallow the whole can in one go.”

Jack lets out a huff of a laugh as Connor takes a few gulps of his second beer of the day, enjoying the crisp coldness of the drink as it trickles down his throat. “Weak,” Will jeers with a snort, turning back around in his seat to watch the open road. Connor narrows his eyes playfully at him, continuing to enjoy his beer.

“Hey, pass me a soda, would you?” Henry asks, taking one hand off the wheel and waving it in the direction of the cooler. “I don’t care what kind.”

“I got it,” Jack says, flipping the lid of the cooler and fishing out a can of ginger ale. “Must suck to have to stay sober this whole drive.”

“Whatever,” Will scoffs. “At least we won’t have to piss an hour more into the drive.”

“Caffeine is a diuretic, too, idiot,” Henry laughs, reaching back to take the offered can of soda. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ve got all the time in the world to get to the site. As long as we check in before dark, we can stop as many times as we want.”

Connor quietly takes another sip of his beer, sinking down in his seat an inch. He’s gotten pretty good at casually talking about needing to piss with his friends--they are boys in their early twenties, after all, it’s bound to come up occasionally--but it’s still weird for him to do knowing that he enjoys it more than the rest of them do. Having a piss holding fetish is probably his closest kept secret now that he’s out, and he’s sworn to himself that he’ll never tell another soul as long as he lives, but he still gets a little extra sweaty and nervous when one of his friends brings up their need.

Still, he can’t help but let his mind wander, watching as Jack fishes out another can of cheap, cold beer, leaving it unopened in his fist. How many beers is Jack going to have before he calls it done? How long will the other two wait before pulling off to a rest stop? The image of Jack squirming from side to side, shifting his hips and grinding down against the seat below him desperately, brings a whole new flush to Connor’s face, and he snaps his eyes forward automatically, as if he’s been caught.

“Better get drinking, Conn,” Will says with a grin, nodding towards Connor’s unfinished second beer. “Looks like Jack’s getting ready to down another one.”

“Since when is this a competition?” Connor retorts, though he automatically raises his can to his lips anyway. “Last I checked we were on our way to a campsite, not to die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Three or four beers won’t hurt you, anway,” Jack replies with a shrug, reaching up to press the still unopened can to his cheek. His skin squishes against it, and Connor can’t help but replace the can with a pillow, the sunlight from the window becoming early morning light in his imagination. God, he thinks, I need to get this whole crush situation under control.

“Ugh, my legs are totally numb,” Will complains, thunking his fist against his right leg for emphasis. “Henry, your car was not designed for people my size.”

“Jack is taller than you, and he’s not complaining,” Connor replies, almost too quickly. Jack flashes him a small smile, his face pink from the cold of his beer.

“Do you want to pull over for a little bit?” Henry asks. “I can keep an eye out for exits if you want to walk around for a little bit.”

“Ah, maybe in a few,” Will says. “We’re barely even halfway there, and it feels like we’ve been driving forever. Might as well tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Might as well,” Jack agrees, stretching his long legs apart in the confined space of the backseat. His left leg rubs up against the cooler, pushing it into Connor’s leg.

“Hey, Connor, would you grab me a coke?” Will asks, reaching back blindly. “It’s too fucking hot out today.”

“Sure,” Connor agrees as he pulls the shiny red can out of the cooler. The ice water on his hand sends a shiver down his spine, but it isn’t unwelcome at all.

“Will, why don’t you put on some music?” Henry suggests as Will accepts the coke. “I bet everyone’s tired of hearing you talk, anyway.”

“Shut up, man, people love my voice!” Will replies with a laugh, smacking Henry’s arm with the back of his hand before reaching for the aux cord and plugging it into his phone.

Connor settles back with his beer, taking a couple of long swigs as the sound of Will’s music hums through the rest of the car. He can’t help but glance over at Jack, finding his friend once again staring out the window, golden light filtering through his hair and sparkling off his skin.

Jack turns, catching Connor in the act, and raises a brow at him questioningly. “You need something?” he asks, not in an unkind way.

“Ah, I was just…” Connor struggles to come up with an excuse, eyes darting around the car and landing on the unopened can of beer in Jack’s hand. “I was just wondering if you were gonna drink that,” he finishes weakly, eyes darting back up to Jack’s face.

“Hm? Oh.” Jack reaches down to crank the tab on the can, lifting it halfway to his lips. “I spaced out there for a second, totally forgot about it. But hey, wouldn’t want it to get all warm, right?”

“Right,” Connor agrees with a weak chuckle. Jack smiles warmly at him before lifting the can to his mouth, taking a few long pulls as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

Connor tears his eyes away, forcing himself to look out his own window at the flat expanse of land that passes by. No more staring for the rest of the trip, he decides, frowning at himself in the reflection of the glass. You’re giving too much away already. Just… be cool, alright?

You can definitely do that.

***

“Connor, you’re falling behind,” Jack says in between sips of his fourth (yes, fourth) beer. “You barely started your third, and I’m already almost done with this one!”

“You’re a lot bigger of a person than I am, jerk,” Connor retorts, taking in another mouthful of beer and swallowing it automatically. He’s not even thirsty anymore, but the alcohol seems to have done its job in loosening him up--he keeps laughing at nothing, and he’s somehow caught the competitive spirit that Will and Jack had slipped into since they started drinking.

“Excuses, excuses,” Jack chuckles, shaking his head with a smile. “Come on, I bet you can finish it all at once if you try hard enough.”

“I wouldn’t say try hard is in Connor’s vocabulary,” Will snorts.

“Hey!” Connor protests, moving his free hand to smack the back of Will’s car seat, giggling when Will throws a fake glare back at him. “I’ll finish it right now, just watch.”

“Before you do, is it alright if we pull over here?” Henry asks. “I gotta take a leak, and I don’t want you spilling all over my car when I’m driving. You’re loose enough already.”

Jack snorts, covering his hand with his mouth to hide his laughter, so Connor reaches out again to smack his arm away. “If you’re gonna laugh at me, at least do it where I can see it,” he says with a grin.

“Okay, we’re pulling over,” Henry decides as he changes lanes, drifting towards a small rest station off the side of the road. “I really don’t want to wait anymore, and my legs feel like shit, too.”

“Same here,” Will agrees, stretching his arms over his head. “How many hours we got left, anyway?”

“Three or four,” Henry says. “I’m glad we got the site so cheap, but couldn’t it have been closer to campus?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jack replies with a shrug. Henry maneuvers the car down the narrow entrance road, scanning the area until he finds a free parking spot.

“Ah, finally!” Will sighs, hand on the door handle before Henry can even finish pulling in. “I feel like we’ve been in here forever. I should not have drank that much soda.”

“Are you two coming?” Henry asks, turning around in his seat. “Like I said, we’ve still got a while to go before we get there.”

Connor looks over at Jack uncertainly, then down at his own beer. He hasn’t been to the bathroom since he woke up this morning, and he does feel a bit of a need to go if he’s being honest. He likes holding, but he’s not sure if he would enjoy it around his three closest friends, even if they don’t know about his piss kink.

Before he can answer, Jack chooses for him. “I’ll stay here,” he decides, holding up his beer. “I wanna finish this one before you guys get back, and I have to see Connor chug that entire can. That is, if he can.”

“Of course I can!” Connor says automatically, lifting the almost full container in the air for emphasis. “I’ll prove it to you.”

“You two are crazy if you plan on going the whole ride without pissing,” Will says with a laugh. “But it’s your funeral.”

“We’ll be quick,” Henry promises, pulling himself out of the car and closing the door, leaving Connor alone with Jack.

“Well?” Jack prompts, tapping his beer against Connor’s where it hangs midair. “Bottom’s up! First to finish gets to pick the music for the next hour.”

“You’re on!” Connor laughs, lifting his can to his mouth and tipping his head back. The beer is cold and fresh on his tongue, and it pools in his mouth almost too fast for him to swallow. He drinks as fast as he can, ignoring the telling signals from his bladder and throwing his common sense out the window. He’s gotten pretty good at holding ever since he started exploring his kink, and he’s sure he’ll be able to last until the next rest stop, especially since Jack drank a whole can more than he did in the same amount of time. Surely it won’t be long until they pull off the highway once again.

And until they do, he gets to imagine Jack squirming around in his seat, trying to contain four cans of beer as subtly as he can, his face growing red from effort and embarrassment. And if that isn’t a good reason to pass up a bathroom break himself, he doesn’t know what is.

***

An hour later finds Connor shifting his weight from side to side in his seat, his hands pressed to the seat cushion on either side of his legs, trying as hard as he can to think about something other than the pressure between his hips. He knows from nights of careful research that it should take about two hours for a drink to go through him, which means everything after the second can of beer hasn’t even hit him yet, and it’s that thought that both scares him and turns him on a little.

He’s never held around his friends before, and he’s only ever held in public when he had sure access to a bathroom. It’s weird, knowing how bad he has to pee--maybe a six out of ten and quickly approaching an eight--and not knowing when he’ll be able to let it go.

On the other hand, he’s pretty sure that Jack is getting desperate too, and it’s honestly even hotter than he ever imagined it would be. Jack’s legs are spread open a little bit, completely still, and he’s slouching down in his seat, one hand tensed on his thigh, the other alternating between playing with his hair and drumming against the car door. He’s quiet--they all are at this point in the drive, letting the music Connor had selected earlier fill the empty space, but Jack is the kind of quiet that means he’s concentrating really hard on something.

Connor would bet good money that the thing he’s concentrating on is his full bladder.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure that Jack hasn’t gone to the bathroom since they all woke up this morning, either. The four of them made their way down from the house they’d stayed over at together after getting ready for the day and eating a quick meal, and then they’d hit the road shortly after that. That means that Jack must be feeling as full as Connor is, if not more so.

He side-eyes his friend as Jack shifts in his seat, squirming ever so slightly, his hips lifting off the seat for just a second before landing again. He’s clearly trying to be subtle about it, but he’s not doing a very good job, at least from Connor’s perspective. He watches with interest as Jack continues to move around, first hooking one ankle under the other, then sitting straight up and shifting his weight to his right side, leaning heavily against the car door. At least he seems too distracted with his need to notice Connor watching him.

Surely he’ll ask to pull over at a rest stop soon, Connor thinks, glancing away from the show for a second to check for road signs. It’s been a while since the last rest stop was advertised, and they’d passed that one almost fifteen minutes ago, so there must be another one coming up soon.

He’s distracted by a soft grunt from his right--his eyes snap back to Jack, whose face is scrunched up in a grimace. His legs move to squeeze against one another as he hunches over slightly, the hand on his thigh twitching towards his crotch for just a second before settling back once again. He must be pretty full, Connor thinks, if he’s wanting to grab his dick already.

Once again, the thought of Jack squirming around with his hands clutching his penis makes its way into Connor’s head. He feels his face turn red and whips his head forward too quickly to escape notice, but he doesn’t dare turn back around. What would Jack say if he knew what Connor was thinking?

He keeps his eyes trained on the back of Henry’s seat, willing the blush off of his face, but when he feels a buzz in his pocket he has to clamp his legs together to avoid a leak. His bladder throbs inside of him, all but forgotten, and now it’s his turn to grimace as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Strangely enough, it’s a text from Jack of all people. Connor recognizes the little profile picture he’d drawn for Jack--the one his friend had insisted on using--before he even reads the name. Nervously, he glances up at Jack and finds him gazing back already, eyes flickering down to the screen meaningfully.

Connor looks back down, taking a moment to un-glue his legs from each other before he opens the text. A simple U ok? stares back at him. Confused, he looks back up at Jack; his friend motions to his face in a general wave, then makes a “spooked” motion with his hands.

I’m good, Connor replies, then quickly types out the first excuse that comes to mind. Just kind of have to pee is all.

When he gets the courage to look up, Jack is already typing out an answer, and a few seconds later his phone vibrates again.

Dude, me too. I’ve had to go for ages

Why haven’t you said anything? Connor writes back. I’m sure they would have stopped for you.

Don’t say anything! Jack answers. We can’t let them know we have to piss. They’ll make so much fun of us for skipping the last break

Connor’s eyes go wide, and he almost answers out loud from surprise. What are we supposed to do, then? he asks, immediately looking over at Jack. His crush grimaces once again, hunching over in his seat and re-crossing his ankles.

We’ve just got to hold it until one of them decides to pull over on their own, he says, and Connor feels his heart stop in his chest. The others only went to the bathroom an hour ago, and they’ve still got two or three more to go until they make it to the campsite. Is Jack planning on holding it the whole time? He’s already moving around quite a bit, knocking his knees together and constantly changing positions, and his forehead is shiny with sweat that Connor’s sure isn’t just from the heat.

Are you sure you can wait that long? he asks, throwing caution to the wind. He can always play his own interest off for sympathy, and besides, Jack seems pretty open to talking about it.

Of course I can! Jack replies seconds later. Obviously I’d go if I could, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold it.

Connor bites his lip, typing out the next message on his phone. You don’t seem so sure about that, he ends up saying, looking up just in time to catch Jack pressing the heel of his hand into his crotch. It’s not the frantic grabbing and squirming that Connor always ends up imagining, but it’s still beyond hot and it has him once again following his reckless side.

I’m 22, not some kid, Jack writes, throwing a hand out to lightly punch Connor in the side. I bet you’re just trying to get ME to ask them to pull over for you.

No way! Connor replies, forcing his legs apart further as if to prove his point. His bladder gives off a dull throb in protest, reminding him that now is no time to let pride get in the way, but the kinkier side of his brain has fully taken over at this point and there’s no stopping it now. I could hold it the whole way there if I needed to. Besides, you’re the one squirming around here!

The last part earns him another gentle jab in the side, but Connor still tenses as the flesh near his bladder is squished. Despite what he’d said, he isn’t completely sure that he’d be able to last all the way to the campsite. His six out of ten is quickly becoming a seven, and the third beer still hasn’t hit him. He’s glad for all those late-night holds when his roommates were out, but he knows no amount of practice can keep him from wetting himself ever again. Still, there’s no way he’ll be the one to cave in and ask for a bathroom, not when he can distract himself from his own desperation with Jack’s the whole way there.

His phone vibrates in his hand once again, and he draws his attention from his bladder to focus on the conversation instead. Jack has written I bet you wish you were squirming like me with a “;)” at the end of the sentence--the last part makes his mouth dry, which in turn gives him an idea.

I bet you can’t fit another drop in you, you’re so full, he writes, sending it before he even realizes how kinky it sounds. When he looks up to check, he’s met with an inquisitive stare, a raised eyebrow.

What are you getting at? Jack sends back a moment later. Connor tries not to grin as he gestures towards the cooler meaningfully, then makes a drinking motion with his hand. He tries not to get too excited at the momentary flicker of doubt in Jack’s eyes--maybe he really is too full to drink--but it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Fine,” Jack mouths at him, his eyebrows drawing together as he flips the lid of the cooler, much to Connor’s surprise. He lets out a quiet hiss as his hand meets the frigid water and half-melted ice, but after a few seconds of fishing he manages to pull out a can of cola. Connor watches with delight as his friend cracks the top of the can and takes a few long drinks, shivering in between gulps of soda, his other hand clenched into a fist at his side.

Jack finishes drinking with a soft, heavy sigh, then turns his gaze to Connor, holding the cola can out to him. Connor frowns, confused, until Jack leans forward even more, swishing the remaining soda around inside the can. His eyebrows are raised once again, challenging Connor to say no.

Connor pretends to glare back, acting like this little dare of theirs isn’t one of the most exciting things that’s happened to him all week. He accepts the can, shivering both from the leftover droplets of ice water and from Jack’s hand brushing against his, lifting it to his lips and chugging the rest of the soda as quickly as he can. It feels like a little over half the can, but he doesn’t really mind--after all, Jack had drank an entire beer more than he had at first, and it can’t be that hard to convince him to down another.

He grits his teeth together as he drinks, pressing his thighs together and shifting around in his seat as the cold soda makes its way down his throat. Only two or three more hours, he reminds himself, and then I can pee. Maybe I’ll even be lucky enough to go right next to Jack. Wouldn’t that be a dream come true?

He looks back down at his phone, where a new text waits on the homescreen. Good luck, tough guy! it reads, followed by You’ll need it >:)

Connor’s pretty sure he’s already maxed out on luck today, but he keeps that thought to himself.

***

“Hey, look at that!” Henry says, waving his phone in the general direction of the backseat. “We’re ahead of schedule. Should be there in an hour if we don’t hit traffic and don’t make any more stops.”

“G-Great,” Connor grits out, barely even glancing at the phone screen. He’s much too focused on his bladder, which has been screaming at him to empty it for the past forty-five minutes. He knows he’s held more for longer many times before, but for some reason it feels like he’s the fullest he can possibly get. Every few seconds his bladder throbs under his seatbelt, hours worth of piss begging to be let out. He wouldn’t have ever dared getting this desperate in a public place before, and if it were just him who needed to go he would have swallowed his pride and asked for a rest stop ages ago.

But one look at Jack has him clenching his muscles and steeling his resolve. Jack, whose face is currently stained bright red, who can’t keep still for five seconds without breathing so heavily it sounds like he’d just run a mile. Right now he’s got his hips lifted as far away from the seat as his seatbelt will let him, his hands in fists braced on either side of his body. He’s so clearly desperate for the bathroom, and yet both of their states seem to have gone unnoticed by both Henry and Will.

He watches as Jack changes positions once again, letting his ass fall back down to the seat below him and bringing his knees close together, shimmying back and forth as he bites at his lip like he’s just walked out of a PornHub video. All of a sudden he gasps, his hands flying to his crotch and pressing down, one knee hooking over the other one. Connor feels his own face heat up as he tries to keep his libido in check, though the image does end up stiffening his dick enough to stave off the next wave of his own desperation.

He figures that he can get away with pretty much anything so long as the boys in the front seats don’t notice, so he takes the opportunity to pinch the tip of his half-hard cock, sighing in relief as he does. God, he’s really desperate--the pressure in his bladder is now one of the only things on his mind. He can barely even tell which song is playing through the car’s speakers now; only that its gentle vibrations are not making his situation any easier.

Maybe he should have thought ahead, been smart about it instead of taking Jack’s soda challenge. Maybe the whole “alcohol is a diuretic” thing does hold more truth to it than he’d thought. Either way, the only thing keeping him from beginning to leak is his semi and the thought that Jack is even more frantic than he is.

He hears a quiet “Oh, oh God,” from his right and glances over, surprised to see that he can see the faint outline of Jack’s penis where he’s gripping it through his pants. There’s no wet spot yet, but it looks like it won’t be long now before he begins to leak in earnest.

A wicked idea enters Connor’s head, one that he can’t resist even though his logical side tells him it’s an absolutely horrible idea. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and types out a quick text, chewing on his lip for a couple of seconds before he decides fuck it and hits send.

C: You ready to give up and ask for a stop yet or what?

His eyes flicker over to Jack, waiting for the far-away cell towers to deliver his message. Seconds later, Jack lets out a high, soft moan, hunching over and shifting his hips from side to side as he squeezes at his cock. It’s probably both the hottest thing Connor has ever seen and heard.

Jack glances over at him, reaching for his phone when he notices the one in Connor’s hand. He doesn’t seem very ashamed of holding himself, which only adds fuel to the fire that is Connor’s terrible idea.

It takes a minute for Jack to type out his response with one hand, his other glued to his groin with no sign of moving any time soon.

J: Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m about to pop

J: But there’s no way in hell I’m asking them to pull over for me!

Connor fights the grin that wants to pop up on his face, though it quickly turns strained as a wave of need hits him. He presses his thighs together and points his toes as he types as quickly as he can, then drops a hand down to hold himself. At least his desperation will serve as a good distraction if his plan goes awry.

C: Are you sure about that?

C: You’re holding your dick so much I’m tempted to offer to help you with it

He watches out of the corner of his eye as Jack reads the text. His friend’s eyes go wide for a split second, but as soon as it’s there it’s gone, and he’s typing away once again.

J: At least buy a guy dinner first, jeez

Connor feels his heartbeat stutter as he reads the response, his mouth dropping open a bit as he white-knuckles his phone, both from shock and the need to squeeze something to make the pressure inside him go away. Before he can even begin to think of what to respond, a huge wave of desperation overtakes him and he lets the phone slip out of his grip, gasping as his hands fly to his crotch to stop the impending flood. He’s at a nine out of ten now, easy--he can feel the piss at the tip of his cock, fighting as hard as it can to escape.

He risks opening one eye and glancing to his right, wondering how Jack will react to his desperation. Will he be grossed out if he notices that Connor is half hard still? Will he kindly pretend not to notice at all?

He’s surprised when his eyes focus enough to notice the expression on Jack’s face. He looks flushed, almost flustered… And more than anything, he looks intrigued.

“Wow,” Jack mouths at him, somewhere between impressed and teasing. Connor shoots a weak smile at him as he circles the base of his dick with his hands, squeezing with all his might. Luckily neither of the boys in the front has noticed anything yet, but it’s still both terrifying and exciting to be this desperate in their presence.

Connor winces as he lets go with one hand, reaching down to grab his phone. He’s definitely pushing his luck, but that look that Jack had given him… It’s not the kind of look that passes between friends. It’s his turn to type with one hand, and he’s shaking ever so slightly on top of that, but at last he manages to type out another text and hit send.

C: Enjoying the show?

Seconds later, he received a reply:

J: I’d give it a perfect review if I could let go of my dick long enough to type it out

J: Are you regretting that last soda btw?

C: Nah, I could hold for longer if I wanted to

C: Not that I have a choice

J: You’re lying, I can tell!

J: I’m bigger than you and even I feel like I’m gonna wet myself any second now

C: That sounds like a you problem

J: I bet you have to go just as bad as me

C: Is it the desperation talking or were you always this delusional?

J: Oh shut up

J: If you don’t have to go, I bet you won’t mind grabbing another soda, right?

C: What if I say I’m not thirsty anymore?

J: Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to drink it

J: I just wanna see the look on your face when your hand hits that ice cold cooler water

Connor stares down at his phone, a slow smile spreading over his face. Intentionally or not, Jack is playing right into the almost exhibisionistic fantasy he’s had for a while, both of his friend teasing him while he’s full of piss and of him torturing a desperate Jack right back. As carefully as he can, he sets his phone on the middle seat and reaches over to flip the lid of the cooler, staring into the slightly sloshing water with a mixture of dread and excitement. He can feel Jack’s eyes on him as he reaches in slowly, his fingers barely brushing the surface of the water.

Better to get it over with, Connor figures, and with that he dives in, submerging his whole hand in the ice water. He lets out a choked-off moan as his bladder convulses, trying in anguish to expel the hours and hours worth of urine. He grabs the first thing he can feel--a can of off-brand lemon lime soda nobody had bothered to drink yet--and yanks his hand out, dropping the can onto the floor of the car and shoving his hand back down onto his crotch.

It’s a bad idea all around. The water that had clung to his hand soaks into his jeans and through his underwear, brushing cool moisture across his sensitive penis as he clutches himself. “Ah, oh,” he hisses, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he moves his hips wildly back and forth, trying to keep the ocean of piss inside of him. It takes almost thirty seconds for the effect of the water to wear off on him, and it’s the closest he’s come to leaking since he’d last wet himself.

At the very least, he notes once he has himself back under control, Jack doesn’t seem to be faring much better. He’s constantly squirming, grinding his hips down into the car seat and letting out short, airy pants as he grabs at his dick, switching from hand to hand and occasionally using both. Every time he has to stifle a moan or a sigh, Connor’s cock gets a little bit harder, which in turn helps him hold it.

Jack doesn’t reach for his phone to text anymore, but he does glance over at Connor every few seconds, like he’s checking to make sure Connor isn’t watching. (Or like he’s making sure Connor is watching--it’s such unfamiliar territory that Connor can’t tell in the slightest.) It doesn’t matter, because either way Connor can’t bear to take his eyes off the show before him. It’s like every one of his fantasies of Jack wriggling around, drops of yellow staining the plush white bed under him, only this is even better because it’s real.

Jack is actually desperate in front of him, and better yet he’s flirting with him over it.

Connor’s thoughts are interrupted by a loud sigh from the front seat. He immediately pulls his hands out of his crotch, cringing at the lack of pressure and squeezing his thighs together to make up for it. He glances up in the direction of the sigh, which sounded like it came from Will’s part of the car.

“Something wrong?” Henry asks from the driver’s seat, reaching to lower the music.

“I’ve gotta piss again,” Will explains, crossing his arms over his head. “Guess I shouldn’t have had that last soda.”

“You want to pull over somewhere?” Henry offers, waving with one hand at the side of the road. “If it’s an emergency we can stop here, and if not we can always keep an eye out for a real rest stop.”

Connor’s eyes go wide, and he side-glances at Jack, who seems to have the same thought as him.

If Will asks to stop at a restroom, the game will be over.

Connor tries not to let the disappointment show on his face, though he knows the cons outweigh the pros for him. Sure, he’d get to pee at last and he wouldn’t be in danger of wetting himself around his best friends anymore, but he’d also lose the opportunity to see Jack slowly lose control, spurting hot leaks of piss into his jeans as he moans and squirms like crazy, trying his best to hold it in… In Connor’s mind, that image is priceless, worth more than any shred of dignity he might have left.

“Nah, it’s alright,” Will says with a wave of his hand, and Connor barely stops himself from breathing a massive sigh of relief. (Not relief relief, but still.) Unless Jack decides to speak up, it looks like his fantasy come true is back on track.

“What about you two?” Henry asks, his eyes flickering to the rear-view mirror, and Connor thanks the stars that he’s been able to keep his hand away from his groin for so long. “You haven’t gone since we got on the road, right? Do you want to pull over somewhere?”

“God, I totally forgot!” Will exclaims. “You guys must be pissing your pants back there.”

“Haha…” Connor trails off awkwardly, shifting his weight to his other side and pressing his knees into each other. “I mean, not yet.”

“What about you, Jack?” Will asks almost tauntingly. “You ready to admit you were an idiot for not going before?”

“I’m not admitting anything,” Jack says with a strained laugh, finding the strength somewhere to kick the back of Will’s seat.

“Oh, come on! You must be bursting back there!”

“Well, yeah…” Jack and Connor glance at each other at the same time, and something like mischief catches in Jack’s eye as they do. “I kinda feel like I’m about to explode,” he admits slyly, never breaking eye contact.

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Maybe it was all those beers… How many did I drink, four?”

“And half a soda,” Connor grits out, his dick throbbing both from arousal and desperation. He checks the rear view mirror and slowly slips a hand into his crotch once he’s sure Henry’s not looking. “You must be really full, huh?”

“Of course,” Jack agrees. “Although you can’t be much better off. You had almost as much to drink as I did, and it’s been hours since you last let go, hasn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah,” Connor manages to reply, heat flaring up in his cheeks. His dick feels rock hard under his hand, but he can’t stop kneading at it, both from his intense desperation and his need for friction. “Oh,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for a second as the mix of arousal and need sends his brain into overdrive.

“I really don’t mind pulling over if it’s that bad,” Henry offers, but Jack answers for him.

“We’re f-fine, Henry,” he says in a less-than-convincing voice. “Don’t worry about us, just get to the c-campsite.”

“You gonna last the next twenty minutes, Connor?” Henry asks, glancing back in the rear view mirror again. This time Connor doesn’t bother taking his hands away from his crotch, hoping that his friend isn’t able to see how erect he is from the front seat.

“I’ll, mmh, be fine,” he says breathily, eyes practically rolling back in his head. His dick is so incredibly sensitive to every brush of his hand, to the point where he doesn’t know if he’d rather piss or jack off more. He looks over to see that Jack is doubled over once, again, one leg crossed over the other with his hands trapped in between them, putting as much pressure on his dick as he possibly can. His face is just as flushed (bad, bad choice of words) as Connor knows his is, and when he opens his eyes to meet Connor’s, his pupils are blown wide.

“If you say so,” Henry says with a shrug, speeding up as he passes the first car in minutes. “I’ll be honest, I was kind of hoping you’d ask to pull over. All this talk about pissing is making me need to go, too.”

“If those two can hold it for six and a half hours, I’m sure you and I can make it the rest of the trip without a bathroom break,” Will reasons. Connor’s eyes widen as he hears the number--six and a half hours?! No, it’s been more than that--it’s closer to seven or eight hours, considering neither of them peed after that first trip to the bathroom in the morning.

“Still, it’s not like it’s comfortable,” Henry says with a sigh.

“Oh, I know,” Jack says, his voice carrying an undertone of… mischief? Excitement? “I’m… not comfortable either.”

Through his haze of need, Connor notices that Jack isn’t just grabbing himself anymore, but moving his hand in small, open-palmed circles. Is he hard? he wonders, mouth dropping open a bit. Is Jack… getting off on this, too?

“Hey, try not to think about waterfalls,” Will pipes up, gleeful. “Or rainstorms, or whitewater rafting…”

Connor shudders, the very mention of all that gushing, gurgling, free-flowing water sending unwelcome images of toilets and showers to his brain. “God,” he hisses, knocking his knees together and bucking his hips in the air. Once again, he feels someone’s gaze locked onto him, and he doesn’t even need to check to know that it’s Jack who’s looking.

“Knock it off,” Henry cuts in, though there’s no bite behind his words. “The last thing I need is those two causing a flood of their own in the back of my car. I just had this thing cleaned a couple of months ago!”

“Oh, did you?” Will teases. “I couldn’t tell.”

A flood, huh? Connor thinks to himself, staring down at where the band of his jeans cuts into his bloated, distended bladder. I bet together the two of us could cover the whole floor of the car in piss, and then some. Jesus Christ, I have to go!

“Ten minutes,” Henry tells them as he pulls off the main road, onto an unfortunately bumpy dirt path.

Connor swears he can feel each tiny bit of gravel that they drive over, the bumps echoing throughout his bladder as he holds on for dear life. He hears Jack panting from his right and opens one eye to see that his friend is folded in half, both hands buried deep between his legs as he lets his hair fall into his face, chewing on his lip. He must be close to bursting, he realizes, noting the couple of beads of sweat dripping down his face.

As much as he’d love to watch Jack lose control and wet himself, soaking his jeans and the seat below him with hot urine, he’s pretty sure pissing himself in front of his friends isn’t something that Jack would be into, even if he is having fun holding. And it looks like they’ve only got a couple of minutes until one of them starts to leak, or even lets go completely.

“H-Hey, Henry,” he stammers, letting go of his penis with one hand to tap Henry on the shoulder. “We’re not, ah, um, we’re not so far away from the campsite, right?”

“Um, I guess so,” Henry says, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s like a seven minute drive, maybe a fifteen minute walk?”

“Could you let me and Ja-ack out here?” Connor asks, hoping the excitement doesn’t come through in his voice. “I d-don’t know about him, but I feel like I’m gonna pop, mmh! Any second now.”

“Please,” Jack gasps, lifting his head for just long enough for Connor to catch a hint of panic on his face. “I can’t hold it all the way to the, hahh, to the campsite!”

“Yeah, sure!” Henry slows the car to a stop, and Jack is out the door before Connor has even unfastened his seatbelt. “Just follow the trail to Campsite L, and text me if you get lost, okay?”

“We will!” Connor promises, pushing the door open and setting his foot on the dirt path. Immediately gravity increases on his bladder and he lets out a loud, strangled moan as he dances in place, trying to keep himself dry. “Bye!” he yells, hobbling off to the side of the road after Jack, who’s already a good few feet ahead, still holding onto his cock for dear life.

Every step he takes is absolute torture--the pressure inside of him is enough to drive him crazy, and yet he’s still horny as hell despite the circumstances. “J-Jack, ahh, wait up!” he calls as he hears the car start behind him. “Jack!”

“Hurry up!” Jack calls without looking back, stomping his feet in place. “I seriously feel like I’m about to piss myself, Connor, it’s so bad. Ohh, I need to go!”

The two boys stumble through the forest, going as fast as they can without losing control completely, though it isn’t long before they start to leak. Connor makes it maybe fifteen steps from where he’d left the car before his bladder decides it’s had enough and contracts harshly, trying to override his control. He gasps in shock as a stream of piss jets out of his dick, wetting his pants from the crotch to the inside of the knee within three seconds, before he finally manages to cut off the flow.

Jack seems to be at the same stage in his desperation, because seconds later Connor hears a loud “Oh my God!” followed by the telltale splatter of urine against the ground. The sound is torturous to Connor’s ears, though he decides it’s worth it when he looks up and sees Jack bent over with his hands jammed between his legs, piss dripping out from between his fingers.

“How f-far do we have to go?” he asks from his hunched-over place a couple of feet ahead.

“We’ve gotta, haah, get away from the road,” Connor grits out, his bladder pounding inside of him, demanding he give it back the release he’d stolen from it. “C-Can’t have any cars seeing us when we… go…”

“Fine,” Jack agrees, reaching out to push himself forward on one of the nearer trees and stumbling a little as he goes. “You know,” he continues, looking back over his shoulder at Connor, “under different circumstances I don’t t-think I’d mind as much.”

“Ah… Yeah?” Connor adjusts the hand on his stiff, saturated dick and moans lightly as the fabric of his jeans rubs him just right. “What do you--mmm--what do you mean?”

“I think, oh, that you know what I mean,” Jack pants, breaking eye contact to squeeze his eyes shut against another flood of desperation. “God, I think my bladder’s in danger of p-popping right now.”

“Me too,” Connor agrees, glancing down at himself. Wow. His bladder isn’t the only bulge that’s noticeable--he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been this hard in years, and that’s including the few boyfriends he’d had in the past. He wonders if he would have already wet himself without the help of his boner, or if it’s his years of holding that are keeping the entirety of the Caspian Sea inside of him.

It feels like hours pass as the two of them stumble deeper into the forest, trying their best to contain the beer and soda inside of them for just a little bit longer. And yet when Connor works up the nerve to look over his shoulder (and the self restraint to look away from Jack, who’s currently hopping in place with one leg hooked over the other) he can still see the road through the bushes.

“I t-think this is it for me,” Jack moans, his breath fluttering. “I’ve, ah, never had to go this bad before!”

“Wait!” Connor pants, lifting one hand from his crotch to hold out towards Jack. “Over th-there!”

He moves his arm to point towards a deep seclusion in the woods, just out of sight of the road. “Just hold on, nngh, a little longer!”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Jack admits, looking back at Connor with red cheeks and watery eyes. Connor can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, taking in his messy hair and parted lips, his legs that are pressed so tightly together, and his hands, which are gripping the base of an obviously erect penis…

Oh.

So Connor was right before, and it hadn’t just been wishful thinking. Jack is getting some pleasure from holding it in, whether he meant to or not. And now here they are, together alone in the middle of a forest, both desperate to pee and totally aroused at the same time...

“Come on…” Connor says, drawing his eyes back up to meet Jack’s. “I- I’ll make it worth your while.”

Jack’s eyes widen once again, and he glances down at Connor’s crotch, where his piss-stained jeans are clearly tented in the front. Connor’s face heats up, but he doesn’t move to hide it at all. There’s no way he’s misread the situation--the evidence is right there in front of him, after all. And all those looks they’d given each other on the ride over, the flirty texts they’d sent each other… It can’t just be a coincidence, or a misunderstanding.

“O… Okay,” Jack says, his eyes wide as he turns to hobble towards the secluded area. Every few steps a couple of drops of urine make their way through his fingers, leaving tiny circles in the ground below him, but Connor knows that those tiny little leaks aren’t giving him any relief at all. His underwear rubs against him as he moves, and he shudders at the soft friction and the wetness of it all.

“Ah… O-Oh…” Jack sighs, pausing at the entrance to the clearing to dance in place. “Thank God we’re finally h-here…”

Before Connor knows what’s going on or has a chance to look away, Jack is scrambling at his zipper and pulling it down, reaching into his underwear to pull out his dick and leaking the tiniest bit along the way.

Wow, Connor thinks, his eyes going wide as he takes in his friend’s length. He can’t say he hasn’t fantasized about that kind of stuff before, but he’d never imagined Jack’s cock to look as insanely appealing as it does. It’s still stiff, too, and a little red, and for some reason Jack hasn’t actually started pissing yet…

Before he can stop himself, Connor takes a step forward, his own dick hard and straining against the confines of his jeans. Jack looks up, still not peeing, an almost hopeful expression on his face.

“C-Can I…” Connor stops mid-sentence to shift his weight to his other side, shimmying his thighs together as his bladder throbs inside of him. He’s never needed to pee so explosively bad before, and yet his need is the last thing on his mind at a time like this.

“Yeah,” Jack breathes, turning his whole body to face Connor. Hesitantly, Connor reaches out, brushing his fingers along the side of Jack’s dick and inhaling sharply as it twitches in interest. Jack makes a nngh sound, his breath stuttering as Connor continues to lightly touch him.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathes, looking up at Connor unsurely. “What am I supposed to…”

“Do you want to try?” Connor asks, taking his free hand away to gesture at his lower half. Jack hesitates a second longer, then nods, watching hungrily as Connor lets go of his aching dick to unzip his fly. He considers pulling himself out, but instead goes for Jack’s hand, guiding it to the front of his jeans and letting Jack maneuver his way inside. His knuckles brush against the very bottom of Connor’s bladder and he shudders, eyes fluttering shut as Jack finally reaches deep enough and pulls his penis out.

“Oh…” he moans as Jack strokes him once, unsurely, then again with a bit more pressure. “That’s good…”

He forces his eyes open and reaches out once again, taking Jack’s leaking cock in his hand and twisting his wrist as he strokes, over and over again. Jack is making tiny little sounds, breathing shallowly and whining every time a bit of urine gushes out of him. Some of it splashes onto Connor’s lower leg, but he could care less at this point.

Jack may not have much experience jacking other guys off, but he’s sure as hell not doing a bad job of it. Maybe he mastrubates a lot, Connor thinks, the idea making him even harder as it enters his mind. Only it’s different now--he doesn’t have to fantasize, with the real deal right in front of him, on him. Every inch of his skin is so, so sensitive thanks to the overfilled capacity of his bladder, and Jack’s hand on him is practically sending him into overdrive.

“Ah, ah!” he exclaims as his bladder pangs harshly, forcing a short jet of piss to spurt out of his dick. He glances down, noticing that it had shot straight onto the leg of Jack’s pants and is dripping onto his hiking boots.

“Good?” Jack asks, pausing his ministrations, and Connor can’t help but thrust into his hand to get more friction.

“Don’t stop now,” he urges, taking a step closer until he can feel Jack’s labored breath on his cheek.

“Oh God,” Jack hisses as Connor speeds up his strokes, pausing briefly to drag his thumb over the tip, his fingers stroking the underside. “Oh God, Connor!”

His name sounds so delicious coming from Jack’s mouth that he practically comes right there and then. But right before he loses himself completely, his bladder contracts harshly, and he has to press his thighs together and shift his hips from side to side to keep from losing it all.

“Ah… haah… I still have to go so bad,” he whispers as a few stray drops fall from his cock, teasing him with the thought of release.

“Me too,” Jack agrees, his hand shaking as it pumps up and down on Connor’s dick. “But… I think it m-makes it better, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Connor groans. His legs feel weak under him, and he swears he can feel every cell in his body.

The sound of hushed moans and cries fills the seclusion, occasionally broken by a gush of hot piss hitting the forest floor. Connor knows he’s leaked enough to fill a whole can of soda on his own, and yet he still feels as desperate as ever--but at this point he’s too hard to lose control completely. Still, each stroke of Jack’s hand on his rock hard dick brings him closer to orgasm, and by the looks of things Jack feels the same. His penis is dribbling piss and precome, warm and sticky in Connor’s hand.

Time to bring him over the edge, Connor thinks, increasing his hand’s speed and making sure to pay attention to the tip every couple of seconds, smearing the leaked liquid around like some kind of lube. “Come on, Jack,” he huffs, eyes flickering between Jack’s dick and his face. “Come for me.”

That’s all it takes to send Jack to orgasm--his friend lets out a cry of pleasure as sticky white come squirts out of him, landing just to the left of Connor’s shoe. The ejaculate is immediately followed by an uncontrolled spurt of piss, followed by another, and suddenly Jack is gushing onto the ground with force, hours and hours worth of liquid finally exiting his body.

It’s that sight alone that sends Connor over the edge--he comes harder than he ever thinks he has before, his vision blurring and whiting out as Jack’s hand slips off his penis. He feels almost dizzy as his orgasm racks through him, shaking his body from fingertip to fingertip. His come lands in the rapidly growing puddle at Jack’s feet, sinking to the bottom of the urine like a feather in the air.

“Jesus,” Connor breathes, taking a deep breath in, but his bladder squeezes in protest, reminding him that he’s still far from empty. He makes a quick grab for his penis, but he’s too slow to prevent the line of urine from marking itself along the thighs of Jack’s pants in a splatter pattern.

He barely has time to notice before he’s pissing full force onto the ground, his urine mixing with Jack’s and creating a puddle beneath their shoes. And God, if that orgasm hit him hard, then finally being able to release all that liquid, those cans of beer and soda and water from the morning… It’s almost better. His stream is so powerful, thundering against the ground with force, and he can’t help but moan as his bladder finally deflates, letting go of the ocean inside of it.

The two of them piss in silence for almost a minute and a half, the sound of splattering echoing in Connor’s ears even as his stream tapers off. He doesn’t even bother tucking himself away, taking a few seconds to catch his breath and regain his bearings. His head is spinning from the events of the day, and he feels bone tired and jelly-like at the same time, but realistically he knows that they have to get back to the campsite before their friends come looking for them.

He opens his eyes, surveying the damage. Both his and Jack’s pants are soaked in several places, and he can already smell the piss drying on their hands and clothes. “Jack,” he says, tapping Jack on the shoulder several times. “We can’t go back like this?”

“Huh?” Jack opens his eyes, looking down at himself until he snaps out of his haze. “Oh, shit! What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know… Did you bring a jacket with you or anything?”

“I was kind of preoccupied,” Jack laughs nervously. “Hey, didn’t Henry say we were gonna be camping near a lake?”

Connor squints, wracking his brain for memories from earlier in the day. “Yeah, he did. Do you think we should-”

“Have a little swim before we get back and help the others unpack?” Jack finishes for him. “It couldn’t hurt to be a little late, right?”

“Right…” Connor trails off, picking at a wet spot on his jeans. “Hey, Jack… You aren’t weirded out or anything, are you? I didn’t do anything too far, right?”

“What? Oh, no!” Jack reaches out to touch Connor’s arm, meeting his gaze with a small smile. “It was great, Connor. What are you worrying about?”

“I just… I didn’t know you liked guys,” Connor admits, somewhat embarrassed. “If I’d known, I…”

“I didn’t know either,” Jack tells him, rubbing his arm gently. “But… I liked it. I liked today, even if it wasn’t the most conventional.”

“I liked today, too,” Connor says, his face heating up as Jack moves his hand into Connor’s own. Jack smiles at him kindly, squeezing once.

“Come on, then,” he says, tugging Connor towards the road. “Let’s go get cleaned up, before the others wonder where we’re at.”

“...Alright,” Connor agrees, smiling back softly. “Let’s go.”

#omorashi #male omorashi #omorashi fanfic #omocute #omorashi story #op #fanfic #male desperation

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superman86to99 · 3 years

Photo

Superman #84 (December 1993)

Superman takes a short Paris vacation! Like, one day short. What's the worst that could happen?

Oh, man.

So, for the past few issues, we've been hearing about children being abducted in Metropolis. Now we see that they're being kept inside a giant toy house by some creepy bald man in Quasimodo clothes who seems to be obsessed with toys -- a "Man of Toys," if you will. Side note: no wonder the children haven't been found... all the articles about them are just gibberish! (See clip below.)

The kidnapper thinks that these kids' parents don't deserve them, and that they're much better off here, in an underground hideout with a man who threatens to starve them if they don't play with him. (And I do mean literally play, with action figures and stuff.) Meanwhile, as these children cry for help, Superman is having the time of his life. While helping move a stranded ship with some huge-ass chains, Superman spots a sunken galleon with a treasure chest inside and fantasizes about keeping the booty...

...before turning it over to the authorities anyway, the big boy scout. Then, he wakes up Lois at 6 AM and tells her they should go to Paris right now, which usually means your significant other is having a mental breakdown, but in this case they can actually do it. And so, after deciding that he deserves to use his powers for fun every once in a while, Superman and Lois drop everything and fly to France with super-speed for the rest of the day/issue.

Anyway: back to the child abduction! Cat Grant and her son Adam attend a Halloween party at Adam's school, but there's a disturbed weirdo in a hideous costume lurking among the crowd. Yes, I'm talking about Jimmy Olsen in his Turtle Boy suit.

Shortly after that, a guy in a dinosaur costume (see, all the creeps are dressed as reptiles) lures Adam out of the party with the promise of "superb video games." What child could resist that? Of course, that turns out to be the kidnapper and Adam ends up in his hideout along with the rest of the missing children and, worst of all, not a single "Lextendo" console.

The kidnapper gets angry at Adam when he refers to the toys at the hideout as "old-fashioned junk" (he was REALLY looking forward to those video games), and even angrier when Adam tries to free the other kids. Adam is brave and puts up a good fight, but...

And those were Adam Morgan's final words. "Uh-oh."

Next, we have a pretty harrowing scene of Detective Turpin letting Cat know Adam’s body was found, and Jimmy and Perry White taking her to the morgue to identify the body (most people probably wouldn't bring their former boss to something like that, but Perry sadly knows more than most about losing a kid). As for Lois and Clark, they were gone so long that the Daily Planet had time to print a headline about the murders. The issue ends when the lovebirds walk into the office smiling like two people who just spent the night fooling around in Paris... only to feel like jackasses when they find out what happened.

To be continued!

Character-Watch:

And that's it for little Adam Morgan who, unlike the also tragically diseased Jerry White, didn't even get any post-death appearances. Adam went from a little kid scared of Superman, to a huge brat, to a character who was approaching likeability as of last week. That's why I hate it when DC kills off young characters like Adam or Liam Harper: in long-form storytelling, children represent potential. Look at how much Wally West or Dick Grayson evolved over the years compared to their mentors! Sure, there's a huge probability that Adam would have ended up disappearing from comics for 25 years anyway, but who knows, maybe we'd now know him as Teen Gangbuster or something. GangbusTEEN.

This issue also represents a turning point for the kidnapper, who is never named or seen clearly in the story itself but I don't think I'm shocking anyone by spoiling the fact that he's Toyman (it's in the cover, for one thing). In his last two appearances before this storyline, Toyman helped Superman save some kids from Sleez and looked genuinely sad to learn about Superman's death, so this is a pretty dramatic change for the character. We'll find out why he went from big softy to child killer in Superman #85 (but don't get your hopes up).

Plotline-Watch:

The most disturbing part of the issue, all things considered, is still the part where Toyman climbs into a giant crib and hugs a huge stuffed bunny. Look at serial killer Tommy Pickles here:

Don Sparrow says: “Even with the upgrade, Toyman is still just a man in a suit, a common complaint about Superman’s rogues gallery.” Funny you should say that, because I JUST shared an old Wizard interview in our Twitter in which Dan Jurgens talks about how Doomsday came out of his frustration with the fact that most Superman villains are dudes in suits (plus other interesting tidbits from the era, like how it was actually Roger Stern’s idea to bring back Hank Henshaw, so check out that link!).

Don again: “The entire Superman storyline of this issue feels like filler. Diving for buried treasure and soaring off to Paris -- it all feels like wasted time next to the Adam storyline.” I have a theory that the entire ship sequence is there as an excuse to put Superman in those big chains and make that Spawn joke (which I didn’t get until now, since I’ve always read this issue in Spanish).

Superman says that pulling that big ship was "a little easier than expected" -- that's either another hint that there's something going on with Superman's powers since he came back, or a subtle dig at the state of American ship manufacturing.

Another adorable "window tap" scene for the books, and this is the sexiest one so far. Is it me or has Jurgens started copying more than just Teri Hatcher's hairdo from Lois & Clark? (For anyone who thinks Lois has gotten implants, I refer you to this clip.)

While in Paris, Lois asks Clark if he's ever wondered what would happen if his rocket had landed in other countries. Don: “Clark’s conversation with Lois sounds like a bunch of concepts for Elseworlds stories. We eventually would see a Russian Superman, and a British Superman, but not yet the French Superman. (Hire us, DC!)” Yep, got my French Superman pitch ready, Jim Lee. Or just let us do Russian Superman again, since Red Son wasn’t even the first time you published that idea.

Don once more: “Another thing that makes no sense about the ‘new’ Toyman is his resentment of technological toys—when in previous appearances he himself had deadly high-tech toys to vex Superman over the years.” I especially resent his hatred of video game consoles. Incidentally, I wonder what types of games are available for Adam’s beloved Lextendo. Star Lex 64? Mega Man Lex? Sonic the Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles & Lex?

No one is more upset at Lois and Clark for going AWOL than Whit. NO ONE. He's so furious that his usually grey mustache turned black.

Patreon-Watch:

As always, shout out to our patrons, Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Samuel Doran, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush and Raphael Fischer! Last month’s exclusive Patreon article was about the recently unearthed sequel to Superman 64 for the PlayStation, featuring Metallo, Parasite, and Lois looking even hotter than in this issue:

Hot damn. Find out more at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99!

And believe it or not, Don Sparrow has even more to say about this issue. Read his section after the jump:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

I should start off my section with a big caveat: I flat out hate this issue. There were several weird decisions made in the post-Death-and-Return era (most of them along the same lines of making the Superman titles more grim-and-gritty), and this story was one of the worst of them. My theory is that, despite the praise and record-breaking sales of the Death and Return storyline, the Superman creative team felt pressure to have more extreme storylines, perhaps in response to the wildly successful Image books coming out at the time. Between this story, and the upcoming “Spilled Blood” storyline, the Super books take a hard—but temporary--turn into more violent and upsetting storytelling—even though these stories are by the same writers as the previous few years. While death has always been a part of comics, and Superman comics was no exception, there is a jarring glibness and unfeeling toward the way violence is handled in these pages that is quite different from the stories that preceded it. It’s made all the more jarring by the fact that well-established personalities suddenly veer wildly out of character, Toyman chief among them.

We start with the cover, and while it is technically well-drawn (by the familiar team of Jurgens and Breeding) it’s also a very upsetting visual. I think they should have gone with the pieta type pose with Adam and Superman, OR the scary badass bowie-knife Toyman (who apparently has a Cheshire cat smile now) but not both. But the cover is a good hint at the tonal dissonance of the comic within.

We open with a splash of the now-extreme 90s looking Toyman, with his serial killer shaved head and spooky cloak, ignoring the pleas of hungry kids he has locked up in a tiny jail cell for days at a time (if that sentence doesn’t ring alarm bells for how wrong this is for a Superman story, I don’t know what will). For much of the issue Toyman’s eyes are obscured by glare on his lenses, further de-humanizing a character who was once one of Superman’s more empathetic bad guys.

We cut to Superman tugboating a huge tanker with giant chains and it’s a cool visual (one repeated in the Batman V Superman film). It feels especially out of place to focus on, given how upsetting this issue is otherwise, but throughout the whole comic, Lois is drawn smoking hot, especially on the two page spread on pages 9-10.

The scenes depicting the actual murder, while still wildly out of place in a Superman comic, are well done, and give a real sense of darkness and menace, which I suppose is the intent. Perhaps my least favourite visual is the Big Bird stuffie, silently bearing witness to what’s about to occur.

The edges of the panels on get more slashy and off-kilter (to me, looking very much like the layouts more typically seen in Image comics of the day) and I suppose I appreciate the restraint of how little Dan Jurgens shows of the death of a child, showing only a bloody slash on a black background. This is still a pretty baroque image for a Superman comic, but certainly less violent than it could be, given what is happening.

Cat Grant’s silent horror is well staged, and powerful in its way. Lastly, Clark Kent bending in sorrow and regret is a powerful image.

While this issue is handled marginally better, and more maturely than other comics on the shelf at this time, I still believe it is one of the biggest mistakes of the era. Giving a long-established character an unceremonious death for shock value is gross on its own, but making it a child definitely crosses a line for me. Making it worse is that, while the Toyman is a criminal and a killer, he has shown in past issues (a similar kidnapping storyline involving Sleez) that he genuinely cares for the well-being of children. So for a long-time reader, this also felt like a betrayal of a long-established, fully developed character. Adding to the ugliness of this is that Adam dies heroically, trying to free the children who have been caged, unfed, for days, but even in that regard, he fails. The headline at the end of the issue confirms all the children are dead. Adam’s death did not buy the other kids enough time to get away. It was all for nothing. Had Adam died, but the other children lived, maybe this issue wouldn’t leave quite as bad a taste. [Max: It’s weird because it’s all told in a way where it’s told in a way where it would make sense, narratively and within the story universe, that the other kids survived, but then it’s almost casually revealed that nope, they died too. A scene of one of the kids relaying Adam’s heroism to Cat in a future issue would have gone a long way.]

Superman doesn’t come off well in these pages, either. It’s honestly the type of story they should just stay away from, because the more you think about all the calamity that is going on around the clock, the less defensible the whole Clark Kent persona becomes. Superman carving out time to romance his fiancée directly led to the preventable deaths of innocent children—how do you come back from that?

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I’m always looking for hints that perhaps Jimmy or Perry know Superman’s secret identity deep down, and Jimmy’s anger at Lois and Clark on their return to the Daily Planet offices would seem to give that theory some credence, as he’s as angry at them as if he knew Clark really were Superman. Either that, or he’s ticked that it fell to him, and none of them to escort Cat into the morgue. [Max: Has this issue finally converted you to the “Jimmy is terrible” side now, Don?]

I don’t think I’m the only one who disliked the new Toyman—SPOILERS BE HERE: years later, in Action Comics #865, Geoff Johns retconned this whole story, reverting Schott into the criminal who over-relates to kids, rather than the child-killer of this story. Apparently the infantile Schott, who speaks to “Mother” a la Norman Bates, is a robot so lifelike it fools even Superman, and the “Mother” he’s constantly replying to was the real Winslow Schott trying to recall the malfunctioning robot. [Max: That’s one Geoff Johns retcon I really didn’t mind, even if it felt kind of derivative of his similar “all the Brainiacs are robots made by the real Brainiac” reveal.]

#superman #dan jurgens #josef rubinstein #toyman #cat grant #adam morgan #dan turpin #whit #gangbusteen #super luthor fighter ii turbo championship edition

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

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hi! idk if you're still doing the prompts but if you are #47? whatever pairing you're vibing with atm 😊 -🦥

HELLO! first of all, the pairing bot gave me malum after it gave me cashton twice but i didn’t feel like doing this for cashton so i wrote it malum, hope that’s cool. ALSO. one day i am going to write a real proper epistolary fic, mark my words, but for now this is all i have to offer you. i know it’s rather different from like. a Normal fic. but i had fun writing it so :)

read on ao3

Dear Calum,

My mum suggested I write you a letter because of the whole data thing in Brazil. I don’t know what that really means but apparently calling would be extremely expensive so I’m doing this now. Maybe it’s weird. Don’t really care. Deal with it.

So how is Brazil? I don’t know the time difference. Wait, I can look it up. Google says 13 hours. That means you’re a day behind me half the time. I’m in your future! It doesn’t look good for you, Cal. Future is pretty grim. If I were you I would stay in the past. Although by the time you get this it will be way in the future for both of us…oops. Oh well. I tried.

Anyway. What was I saying. Brazil? How is it? Hot, I bet. Probably playing loads of football. Luke and I have been playing FIFA but it’s so not the same. He sucks at it and he doesn’t even cheat because he’s boring I guess or has “morals” or whatever (his words not mine). I miss playing FIFA with you. Always beating Luke is not fun. Okay it’s a little fun. But I still miss you. As soon as you’re back you’re reclaiming the player 2 controller. Did I mention that I miss you? You probably get it.

What can I update you about here? There’s not a lot to say. Nothing has really happened. At least not in my life. Oh! I can tell you a secret but don’t tell Luke I told you because he will definitely kill me. Not that you have any way to reach Luke. Don’t go behind my back and write a letter to Luke telling him I told you this. Anyway: Luke fancies Ashton! I totally got him to admit it during one of the FIFA games I mentioned. It was almost cute if I’m honest. He turned really red and got all blushy and stammery. I am now wondering if I should meddle or not. On the one hand, Ashton must like him back, right? Have you seen the two of them? I don’t want to deal with intra-band sexual tension. Unless it’s ours. We’ve already claimed the “insufferable band boyfriends” role though, so do we really want this to happen? I don’t really know what I’m arguing anymore. I don’t think I’ll do anything for now. Will keep you updated in case anything dramatic happens. Then again I have no idea how long it’ll be before you receive this. Something very dramatic might happen while this is in the post. Let me ask my mum. Okay she says it could be two weeks. That’s fucking long. You might just have to come back and get the Luke/Ashton updates in real time.

Besides from that there isn’t much to report. Everything is the same. Except I’m a lot lonelier now. This is what you’ve done to me Calum. I’m returning to my natural introvert state. I need you here, Cal!! Otherwise I’ll just have to become a turtle and by the time you’re back it might be too late.

I’m joking by the way. I hope you’re having a good time at football camp. Making new friends and learning Brazilian(?) Portuguese and kicking everyone’s arse and showing them up. I’m sure you are. I just miss you lots. :( Counting down the days!

Sending you lots of kisses and cuddles through the post,

Mikey

Dear Michael,

I don’t care either! I think writing letters is cool. We’re like lovers at war. Except neither of us are going to die. Probably. (Some of these footballers are CRAZY good. You never know!)

Actually, Brazil is pretty nice. It’s winter so the days have actually been not too hot, thankfully. It’s exhausting enough playing as it is. If it got any hotter, I might actually pass out. Forever. They’d have to ship me home in a body bag. (Are those only for dead people? Maybe not a body bag.)

It’s been almost two weeks since you sent your letter (I assume you sent it soon after I left?) which means there’s a good chance this one won’t get to you until I do, but in case it does I’m going to write and post it anyway. I hope by now you’re getting on better with Luke. If I’ve said it once or a million times, you guys have a lot in common and I really think you could be best friends if you weren’t both such stubborn shitheads. Which I say in the nicest way possible!

Of course Luke fancies Ashton, he’s liked Ashton since…honestly I don’t know when. Months and months at least. And Ashton clearly likes him back. I’ve never seen two people less capable of hiding their feelings. I’m surprised you didn’t notice before. Please tell me you decided to meddle in the end. You’re right, we can’t handle more sexual tension in the band. Don’t worry, they can’t possibly be more insufferable than we are. We are the most annoying boyfriends on the planet. We’re writing each other letters. Basically, it’s best for everyone involved if they get over themselves. Suck it up and kiss already! My friend Gustavo agrees with me. Also he says hi. (Well he says “oi” but I translated for you. See, I can do stuff like that. Kinda cool, right?)

I miss you too, you know. Very much. This might sound weird, but I keep having dreams about you? Like…I’ll be dreaming about whatever (usually football these days) and then you’ll just be there. Clearly my subconscious also knows I miss you. You know Ashton says that when you dream about someone, it’s because they’re thinking about you, so I hope that’s true. It’s kind of a cute idea. I hope you’re thinking about me. I’m thinking about you. Obviously. A lot. A lot.

There is one thing I want to tell you, though. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this, and the more I think about it the crazier it feels, but also more right. So…I think I’m gonna do the band. Not football. This is cool and all, but everyone here is so scary good, and…I don’t know. Maybe this is stupid but I don’t like the idea of a future without you when I could have a future with you. Like with the band, I mean. And I know it’s not the most practical dream, but imagine how cool it would be if it actually worked out. You know I like a challenge. So, anyway…that’s kind of where I’m at now. I’m going to keep thinking about it for the last two weeks here, but I don’t think I’ll change my mind. Don’t tell anyone, please. I just wanted to tell you as soon as I knew. My parents are going to be soooo mad. Not excited to tell them, but this feels like the right decision.

Anyway…this got weirdly deep. Sorry. Here’s something super not-deep to make up for it: one of the football coaches here has a dog whose name in English is pasta! PASTA! (It might be apple. Apparently they’re the same word just spelled differently and the Brazilians here can clearly tell the difference. I cannot. But I think it’s way funnier if the dog’s name is pasta so I’m going with that. Not that apple is much better? Imagine seeing any dog at all and thinking, “You know what this dog’s name should be? A common food item.” LOL.)

This letter is so long and I’m running out of space on the page and I also really need to go to sleep! The boys are telling me to turn off the lights. I miss you so much. Football camp is fun, but I can’t wait to be back. Counting down the days!

Thank you for the cuddles and kisses I am sending them right back to you,

Cal

“Oh my God,” Michael mumbles into Calum’s shoulder, “you smell.”

Calum laughs, but he doesn’t loosen his grip on Michael. “Seriously? I haven’t seen you in a whole month and that’s the first thing you say?”

“Ugh, I missed you so much, but that’s boring to say, you already knew it,” Michael says, drawing back to kiss Calum for a second. Then he buries his face in Calum’s neck. “Seriously, I’m not joking, if you ever leave me alone for that long again, I will die.”

“You had Luke. And Ashton.”

Michael groans loudly and overdramatically. “Ashton is busy with family stuff all the time and don’t you dare compare yourself to Luke.”

“We’re going to talk about this,” Calum says. “You’re going to be friends with him if it kills me.”

“Then prepare to die,” Michael says. Calum laughs, pressing a kiss to the slope of Michael’s neck. “I tried, okay? I promise I did. I said in my letter we were playing FIFA! Did you get my letter? I didn’t know how to check if it ever actually arrived.”

“I got it,” Calum says, stomach lurching with nerves. Ignoring them for the moment, he squeezes Michael and then steps back to give him a full once-over. “I loved it. It made me laugh. God, I really missed you, you know?”

“Join the fucking club,” Michael says, smiling. He’s been smiling this whole time, Calum realises; he’s just good at sounding like he’s whining even when he’s smiling. That’s probably the most Michael thing Michael can do.

“Alright, boys,” Mali says from a ways away. “Come on. Let’s go. And seriously, Calum? You hug Michael but not me?”

Calum throws his arms around Mali, and Mali wraps him in a hug. “Missed you,” Calum says sweetly in her ear. “Thank you for coming to get me. And for bringing Michael.”

“You’re welcome,” Mali says drily. They separate and Mali just gives him a small smile. “And I missed you too, you punk. Come on, you both. Baggage claim awaits.”

Mali takes off and Calum lingers behind until he can throw an arm over Michael’s shoulder. Michael leans heavily into him. It’s been so long since the last time Calum had Michael in his arms, but it’s so immediately familiar that it almost knocks Calum off his feet.

“So…” Calum bites his lip. “Did you get my letter? I sent it just after yours arrived, but I don’t know if it got here before me.”

Michael shakes his head. “Nope, nothing.” Something in his voice tells Calum he’s making no mistake. He’d probably checked the mail every day, just to see. There’s a pang in Calum’s chest, all mixed up with the anxiety flitting out to his fingertips from inside his rib cage.

“Oh,” Calum says. “Well, there was something in there that I wanted to tell you, but I guess I’ll just tell you now. Um.” He drops his voice to a half-whisper, clears his throat. “I don’t want to tell Mali or anyone yet, but…I decided I’m not going to do football.”

Michael jerks. “What?”

“I want to be in the band,” Calum says quietly. His heart is racing, but at least it’s racing towards the finish line instead of away. This is the right decision. He’s…ninety-five percent sure. That’s enough to know. It has to be enough to know. “I just, you know, football is fun, but music is more fun. To me. And anyway, um.” He rubs the back of his neck. “If I have a choice between a career that has you in it or one that doesn’t, I choose you. Obviously.”

“You’re gonna be in the band?” Michael repeats lowly, looking over at Calum like he’s seeing something he’s never seen before. “Seriously? You’d give up football?”

Calum shrugs, nods. “Yeah. I know my parents are going to kill me, but I don’t care. This is what I want.”

Michael stares at him. “I love you,” he says, and then kisses Calum too fiercely to give Calum adequate time to process that.

By the time they break apart, he’s processed it. And as he inhales to catch his breath, licking his lips, he knows with one-hundred-percent certainty that this is the right choice.

“I love you too,” Calum says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Where Michael is concerned, it usually is.

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metanoiyed-archive · 3 years

Text

The Ahistorical “Burning Times”, Or: Why White People Shouldn’t Be Trusted To Record History

*cracking knuckles* If you saw this post about this post, you know what this is about. If not, read them and come back. Without further ado: The Ahistorical “Burning Times”, Or: Why White People Shouldn’t Be Trusted To Record History.

“The important backdrop for this group is the time period that modern witches and pagans refer to as The Burning Times.”

So the first thing you’ll notice about posts or books that mentioned the ‘burning times’ is that they use very purposeful wording and diction. Notice how the OP says ‘that modern witches and pagans refer to as’ and not, “what historians refer to as”? That’s because historian’s don’t refer to it as the burning times, they refer to it as the ‘Witch Craze’ or ‘Witch Hysteria’, where many people in medieval Europe and America [14th-17th century, but 16th and 17th were the most popular years] were often falsely accused of witchcraft and hung - not burned - for the crime. During the Salem Witch Trials, especially, people like to say ‘we are the granddaughters of witches you couldn’t burn’ -- but no witches were even burned at the stake in Salem (1). Accusing someone of witchcraft was very, very often a political tool used by the Roman Catholic Church or others who operated under it to execute whomever they wished, but we’ll get to that in a second.

“Europe and America were thrust into a moral panic and hysteria over alleged satanic witches. Most of those accused were midwives, healers, poor women, women suffering from mental health issues, and women who were practicing preChristian traditions.” So... Yes to: hysteria, healers and women suffering from mental health issues and practicing pre-Christian traditions. No to pretty much everything else. Men who were healers or suffering mental health issues were also accused, but that’s because anyone could call witchcraft like a boy crying wolf and it was believed. In my ‘A Deed Without A Name’ notes, I go over how in some cases it appears that a certain aspect of people who are in some way different can indicate they’re touched, but often in the past I’m inclined to think in most cases it was simply used to execute people. Also, they killed people practicing pre-Christian traditions because they were racist Europeans and colonialists, and most of the time those pre-Christian traditions were by POC. 14th Century-17th Century is by no means pre-Christian, by that point a lot of folk belief in Europe had been touched by Christian belief, not so much that it entirely changed it, but enough. ‘Alleged’ Satanic witches? Are we just purposefully looking away from Isobel Gowdie’s confession before she was executed? Confessions of people [of those who confessed and were actually witches] who made deals with the Devil/Man in Black/Witchfather in some form are overwhelmingly common. (2).

“Many witches fear a return to the Burning Times, when any old woman was burned at the stake for merely existing below the poverty level.” I really have nothing groundbreaking to say about this one, just that I hate the OP for making me look at it and I hope they stub their toe. ‘fear a return to the burning times’ my ass.

“The total number of those murdered under the guise of witch accusations varies widely by source. Many historians have argued that the number is anywhere between 40,000 and 60,000. Other sources, however, have claimed the number is closer to 100,000 with potentially hundreds of thousands more unaccounted for. It has even been suggested that there were 392,000 in Great Britain alone. The highest number, and number that has become part of popular legend, is approximately 9 million (with the fullness of the Crusades and Spanish Inquisition included). It will never be certain how many women, men, and children were killed, and truthfully the numbers game is irrelevant in the face of trauma. Any genocide, no matter how big or small, is a moral stain on our history.”

Other sources? What sources. You don’t name any of yours, I noticed. ‘Any genocide ... a moral stain on our history’ yet I am sure you turn a blind eye to the plight of those right in front of you, while my people suffer a real continued genocide, you make a fantasy crime. Statista did a chart on how many people were tried and executed between 1300 and 1850, and the number is even lower than you think. (3).

“The Burning Times were a systematic rooting out of female power and autonomy, and non-christian practices. The midwives and healers posed a threat to the structures and systems of politics and medicine... both groups challenging the patriarchy.” This sounds... so fishy. Doesn’t this sound like a weird radical-feminist argument? I’m not implying anything about OP, but the way this whole paragraph reads while trying to include ‘men, women and children’ and then focusing on how this was a whole attack on the women against the patriarchy just... grosses me out, a lot. Because it was never about that, has never been about that, and will never be about that. I also just don’t trust people who refer to women as ‘females’ but that’s just me.

“Most of the following women were (wrongfully) believed to have had sexual intercourse with Satan, signing their names into his black book with their blood.” Again, are we just ignoring Isobel Gowdie’s straight up confession? Or any of the other confessions from Scotland, England, and surrounding areas? This stupid purity culture of wanting to be seen as better to outsiders is so annoying. “I’m not like that trope of witches you’ve seen, we don’t actually have sex with the Devil or sign his black book with blood!” Just because some of us aren’t worried to get our hands dirty and you are doesn’t mean that other witches don’t do that. “wrongfully” where the fuck are you getting your information? Many confessions that they did get included detailed accounts of joining the Man in Black for sabbats, having sex with him, and signing his black book. Not everyone continues the practice today, but some definitely do, they definitely did, and it definitely wasn’t “wrongfully believed”. They were powerful women in their own right. If anything OP, by trying to separate themselves from the legacy of these women, has disgraced them in that way. It takes courage and strength to work with infernal forces from the otherside like that, and here this asshole is just shittin’ on their name pretending they never risked their lives doing it. A source on this from Isobel Gowdie, “As I was going betuix the townes of Drumdewin and the Headis, I met with the Devil, and ther covenanted, in a maner, with him.” and from ‘A Deed Without A Name’ by Lee Morgan, “As we can see when we look over the testimonies of witches from earlier times not everyone is initially approached by an animal spirit. Isobel Gowdie seems to have initially been approached by ‘the Devil’, Bessie Dunlop by a faerie man who claims to have once lived as a human man, others were taken by faeries or by the spirit of another living human practitioner.” (4)

And obviously there are various other sources, these are not the only ones. I’m just too tired to go through my library, cite them all, attach them all - y’all gotta do your own work for once. Read actual history, please. Learn discernment. I don’t even have the energy to go through the list of people the OP put as ‘in memoriam’ because I have no idea if those are historical reasons, either, but honestly I don’t even wanna know. Anyway, it’s bullshit and ahistorical, thanks for coming to my tedtalk. If you push this narrative you owe Black, Native, Jewish people and anyone else otherwise affected by the witch-craze repatriations immediately, I don’t make the rules except I do and those are the rules.

Citations:

Andrews, Evan. “Were Witches Burned at the Stake during the Salem Witch Trials?” History.com, A&E Television Networks, 13 Aug. 2014, www.history.com/news/were-witches-burned-at-the-stake-during-the-salem-witch-trials.

Wilby, E. (2013). The visions of Isobel Gowdie: Magic, witchcraft and dark shamanism in seventeenth-century Scotland. Brighton: Sussex Academic Press.

McCarthy, Niall, and Felix Richter. “Infographic: The Death Toll Of Europe's Witch Trials.” Statista Infographics, 29 Oct. 2019, www.statista.com/chart/19801/people-tried-and-executed-in-witch-trials-in-europe/

Morgan, Lee. A Deed without a Name: Unearthing the Legacy of Traditional Witchcraft. Moon Books, 2013.

#witchcraft #witchblr #isobel gowdie #bessie dunlop #a deed without a name #lee morgan #emma wilby #burning times #ahistorical narrative #ahistorical #history lesson #history #witch craze #witch hysteria #long post #history of witchcraft

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djemsostylist · 3 years

Text

It's been a few days and I've read a lot of takes and had a lot of long talks with @lolo-deli and I'm firm on where I stood Thursday. People who are pro this new season have been busy with PR, and I've seen the same points over an over. 1. We don't know why they broke up, we don't know what they both did, 2. we can't blame Eda, 3. we will get to see them fall in love again, 4. we will see Serkan with a second pregnancy, and perhaps the key, 5. we needed a reset. Oh, and 6. their daughter will bring them back together. Last season was a mess and we needed a blank slate. I'd like to address these points, if for no other reason than it will make me feel better.

You are correct. We don't know why they broke up. The most popular theory seems to be "Serkan pushed her away", which I think is both because it can make Eda "not the bad guy" and also because he has done it before. I'm not going to belabor the point, but we have spent the rest of the series since then showing a Serkan who learned from that mistake has been willing to anything to be with her. I know amnesia Serkan was a mess--but he also had fucking amnesia. And once he was back, we got back our soft boy who wanted nothing more than to be with her. If they have him push her away, it's for plot reasons, not character ones. So maybe Eda reaches a breaking point. Okay, over what? Him not telling her about the tumor? That's her last straw? She endured everything else, but him delaying telling her about the tumor is the last straw? Does she leave him while he's dying? In treatment? Sees him through and leaves him after? I think no matter how you look at it, for them to break up after all they have been through makes no sense to me. Why would they? As I said in a previous post, what could worse than what they have already endured? In any case, either of them leaving the other, again, means I'm forced to wonder why we would ever want them BACK together. If something happens to break them up for 5 years, then obviously it's not meant to be. If they can't figure out a way to make it work after all they have been through, what would five years of bitterness and stewing do to make either of them ready for a relationship together? (And the teaser makes it pretty clear they *are* bitter.) Instead of seeing a counselor, trying to work through their communication and trust issues, if their choice is always "run and dump" and they've learned nothing in 39 episodes, then what is the point anymore? This is not a second chance romance. This is a toxic relationship I no have an investment in.

We can't blame Eda. Look, I get no one wants to hate Eda. I don't want to hate Eda. My girl has been through hell and back, and she's endured a lot for love of this man. I'd have supported her leaving in 15. I'd have supported her deciding not to trust him in 20. I'd have even supported her leaving towards the end of his amnesia, if she thinks there is no hope. But I'd argue the fact that she stayed, that she worked through her issues with him after 15 and chose to be with him means she knows what she's getting into. She knows who he is at his core, and if he was worth all the pain she went through in the 30s then yes, we very much CAN blame Eda. Even if Serkan broke up with her, pushed her away, I very much can and do blame her for keeping his child. I've seen people say there was a miscommunication, that she tried to tell him and he wouldn't listen, maybe he says he doesn't want kids. I'd argue that if he did, it was because he was dying, otherwise why a sudden 180 from Serkan-I-Want-To-Build-A-Library-For-Our-Children Bolat to "no kids?". Which she should find weird and also realize the cause. Again, it would be for plot reason only. Regardless of what happened between them, the second there is a child involved, to quote @lolo-deli you put on your big girl pants and learn to fucking communicate. Even they aren't together, doesn't mean they can't raise a child together. Unless he's a drug lord or a mafia boss or a serial killer, together or not, he deserved to know about his daughter. He deserved the chance to be in her life from the minute Eda knew. Period. I'm not going to cry for Eda's pain of raising her daughter alone in Italy when she literally could have just told him, and you know he would have moved the moon to make sure his daughter felt safe and loved. At least, the Serkan I know. And the Eda I know would not have let him push her away without letting him know about a baby. Not a girl who knows firsthand what it's like to grow up without a father. So I'm sorry, but if we were hating Serkan for being asshole when he had amnesia and we were hating Aydan for keeping secrets...then I'm hating Eda for keeping a child and a father apart. I'm tired of the "all men are trash and boss queen" all or nothing mentality. I really, truly am.

Look, at no point do I want to have to watch Serkan Bolat fall in love with Eda (again) or his daughter. I've already seen him and Eda do that before, I spent 39 fucking episodes on that. And having to watch Serkan fall in love with his daughter because he didn't get to know her from birth is about the most depressing, least romantic, and most heart wrenching thing I could possibly imagine. This isn't a baby, like so many people keep saying. It's a child. A whole entire formed person and Serkan doesn't know her. Because Eda kept a secret. I hate it.

And it doesn't matter if he gets to see the second pregnancy, bc he still missed the first, and every single thing will be a reminder of that. And I don't know how Serkan, who has always felt unworthy (and justified or not is what led to most of the problems in their early relationship) gets over the fact that Eda thought so little of him that she would rather have her daughter grow up without a father than attempt to get in contact with him and let him have a role in her life. I just don't. That's soul crushing. "Am I such a horrible person that you didn't even want her to know me?" As much as I don't want Eda to suffer anymore, I also don't want Serkan to either. Maybe that makes me an antifeminist. Sue me.

Look, last season was a fucking mess. No one is denying that. Part of it is on the writers, part of it is on the producer who kept hiring and firing writers, part of it is on the fact this show should have ended 20 episodes ago. And I hated the 30s, have no desire to watch them again. But the thing is, you can't ignore the episodes that have been written. As much as we want to. Things happened--and that includes character growth, promises made, words said. You can't just do a reset. And I'd argue that breaking up a couple that said they would do everything in their power to make each other happy, who got rings tattooed on their hands as a sign of never, ever being a part again, wouldn't just break up and not see each other for five years. At some point, it becomes toxic. Lack of communication, selfishness, immaturity, stubbornness--do we even want these people together if something was so awful they separated for 5 years and Eda kept a whole baby a secret? Five years is a long to be apart and not once thing about making amends until they are forced into it. What is the point of that reset?

I hate this. So, what, if Eda hadn't randomly brought their child to an awards ceremony and the girl hadn't happened to see Serkan, then they never would have attempted to get back together? It's not like they couldn't get in contact with each other. How is the fact that without their kid (which Serkan didn't even know existed) they would never have reconciled a cute plot?

Let's not argue that this isn't anything other than it is--a ploy to bring in new fans and/or try and get old fans back on the part of the producer. If someone can explain like I'm 5 how this plot is good, I'll listen. But to quote a tweet I saw, you can't use the words angst, pain, suffering, or heartache, because those are not good reasons. You also can't say "but last season" bc I know. I was there. Last season sucked. I get it. It's not a reason to not even attempt a happy ending.

For now, I'll leave it at this. If your kind of love story is two people who have learned nothing, who only know how to fight and hurt each other and break up and think nothing of using a child as a pawn, than I'm happy for you. This season sounds great. But you can't convince me this was necessary, you can't convince me this was "always the plan", you can't convince me this will be anything other than pain, heartbreak, and a way to try and milk SCK for all it's worth before they are forced to cancel or Hanker finally says "we're done."

#sen çal kapımı #sck #I'm never not going to be a bitter potato #over the wasted potential of this show #two of the hottest stars #the best fucking onscreen chemistry i have ever seen #and the possibility to subvert all the tropes of cyclical breakups and actually write two people in love and happy #and you chose this horseshit #all the fake symbolism and little prince sayings in the world aren't gonna fix this fucking mess #ayse can keep her fucking symbols #give me back my edser #i hated 37 for the performative fakeness #and ill hate this too

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datenoriko · 4 years

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Wondering if I could request some reactionary Headcanons for the warlords where MC is a highly trained and skillful forensic scientist?

I’m so sorry this is waaaay overdue and writing-wise is still unsure of the style... I hope this one’s okay though~ TnT

p.s. I tried adding Kennyo & Motonari too, but brain won’t let me ><

p.s.s. Updated masterlist for my random shenanigans here!

*Every one of them thought MC would be scared of a dead body and multitudes of it on the battlefield and beyond it but...

ODA FORCES

Nobunaga

- “Huh, this fireball’s not afraid of the dead?” // “I examine them for a living.” Visibly impressed, a devilish smirk forms on his lips

- The Devil King is fascinated by you actively asking to take her to battles to study the bodies

- “Look at this! With that deep slice on his jugular vein, no wonder he’ll die pretty quickly due to all that blood loss.” // “On his what?” // “T-the blood vessel found on the neck, my lord.” // *is confused*

- Nobunaga considers this carefully and commissions the armour makers to improve their designs, and/or trade for more sturdy materials with the Portuguese (you know… aside trading for konpeito :3)

- Lets you examine more specimens to determine all possible deaths in battle, and then have it discussed at the next council. It’s a great help for them in terms of preparation & strategizing. After all, prevention and preparation is still much better!

Hideyoshi

- A worried mother hen as always, all he wanted is for you to stay away from the worst sights possible and definitely not going straight towards them! “What do I keep telling you?” // “Uh, stay away from the corpses…?”

- Just like how his lord would sneak away to have konpeito, you also tend to get around stealthily just to study “them”

- Being a highly observation person due to your work, you even know which wooden floor in Azuchi will make a creaking sound and by instinct you will avoid it

- But Mamayoshi is just as observant as you are, and he caught you one night

- “I know you were once this ‘forensic expert’ from where you came from, but you are a princess now and must behave like one!” Legend has it that the lecture continues...

Mitsuhide

- Ah, he loves asking for your suggestions on how to get away with murder treason!

- I mean, he’s surely an expert but an additional piece of advice his little mouse wouldn’t hurt, right?

- “This place’s almost clean, I’d say.” // “’Almost’, little mouse? It scares me so that you have trained eyes for such matters. // “Is that a compliment? Anyway, I saw a strand of hair near the sliding door... and its color is much similar to yours. Care to explain?”

- Now he’s more careful than ever to leave any trace, knowing you can find him even with the smallest of clues

- The tables have turned for him after such a long time of being a sneaky fox

Masamune

- Oh boy, make sure you won’t overwork yourself by being with this man, being a battle-loving man that he is (meaning, more bodies and scenes to check out)

- At the same time, he finds it amusing that you proactively ask him to take you to his trips, campaigns and whatnots

- “It really is fun having you around, lass! Or should I say ‘partner’?” // “Damn straight, partner… now, let’s solve this case!�� Cat-like grin commences for you two

- He sees you having fun hanging out at the scouts’ camp, chatting about experiences in the battlefield. your eyes would glimmer the more explicit they describe it. Creepy? Maybe a little, but at least he sees you happy about it… right?

- The One-Eyed Dragon will find this unusual, sure, but it certainly makes him want to know you more

Ieyasu

- Did he care at first? No, not really. He just wanted no involvement at first and to be left on his room alone, reading or eating extra-spicy food

- However, Yatsun gets curious when he finds you taking a peek at his medicinal work on a man he is a bit late to save :(

- “What are you doing here? You better not get in the way.” // “Oh no, poor man though… what’s the cause?” // “I am yet to find that out, if you’ll excuse me,---” // “Can I take a look?”

- He tries to pry you away from the room but being already in and touching the body leaves him no choice but to keep a close eye on you, making sure you’re not doing anything daft.

- “Huh, not bad.” Ieyasu says as you were able to identify the cause of death, deep inside he’s amazed of course. Later on he would let you join him in his post-mortem activities if the schedule allows to, but still keeping an eye on you to prevent any mishaps from happening

Mitsunari

- “Wow, MC-sama is unfazed as we all are in the battlefield! You truly are an amazing woman.” Did you see that sunny smile on his face as he says it???

- Your logical explanation as to identifying one’s death baffles the force’s cinnamon roll (because of the jargon used), otherwise it fascinates him

- Well, he’s never seen a woman who’s into dead bodies work-wise!

- Like some other warlords, he would ask you for advice when making strategies for the next battle

- When you went to his room one time to borrow a book, the first thing you said was “Am I in a crime scene?” when seeing piles of books around, untouched food and seeing a man unmoved in the middle of the room, reading and not even sensing your presence. “Ah no, just a normal room. I see.”

Ranmaru

- While in an errand, he sees you one day looking at a dead body about to be taken away. He is worried that the view might traumatize you for life… in the back of his mind he already has a plan to take you to a sweets shop and let you gorge in manjuu for the rest of the day

- “MC-sama, are you alright? You look shocked.” // “Yeah, I mean it looks to me that someone killed him when everybody says the opposite! I wanted to look into this so badly…” // “My apologies, but… what?”

- Of course it is never the answer he expected, but when you plead to help him solve it, this page is more than willing to do so

- Now both of you are going around the town looking for clues and asking who you think are involved; partners-in-crime!

- You did get to gorge on manjuu (and tea, lots of it) with Ranmaru when the case is solved!

UESUGI-TAKEDA FORCES

Kenshin

- Oh boy, make sure you won’t overwork yourself by being with this man, being a battle-loving man that he is pt.2

- “How dare you try to even speak with MC; draw your swords. Now.” // “Kenshin-sama, even if I’m used to seeing the deceased, please don’t do that. You’re scaring your own men!”

- He has little to no problem in taking her along to the battlefield, too! One more way to keep her in sight at all times

- Sometimes when you two are drinking and think he had too much you just had to stop him, to his slight annoyance. You have seen many deaths due to alcohol poisoning and definitely wouldn’t want him to be in the list… Bunshin Lord Kenshin appreciates the thought though

- Like Nobunaga, he allows you to do some research on the dead bodies, anything useful for the ongoing war

Shingen

- How can an angel such as you be associated with death and decay? He thinks

- But this daddy needs to accept the fact that you are quite comfortable around such! However once your investigation takes a scary turn expect him to nearby, comforting you with soothing words, or a hug… or eating sweet buns as many as you’d like to calm yourself down

- At first he is reluctant to let you get near the deceased, however whenever he sees your expression light up whenever he makes a cheesy comment (albeit in a rather awkward place) he thought of going along with it

- “Hm, this job of yours is unfitting in every way.” // “Oh yeah? How so?” // “You are brimming with life that I do think you are a goddess who descended upon us men.” // “Ah, here we go again…”

- You have to admit, his presence help you keep your sanity as you used to work alone for long periods of time

Yukimura

- “I thought you might be running away now once you see these.” // “As if they’ll chase me! Unless… are they still alive?” // “Weird woman…”

- This tsun does admire how brave you are after even making such joke

- Along with Sasuke, you three are pretty much effective when doing some investigation at the enemy’s base with you giving them (modern) tips of not getting caught. Unusual hiding spots? Hidden weapons? Suspicious people? All checked and cleared!

- He has been doing that for a long while now, but hearing your strange ideas do sound plausible… especially when ninja friend is highly approving it

- If Sasuke trusts you, he surely starts to trust you (and your skills) too

Sasuke

- Once again, be paired up with Yuki and you three would make a great investigation/espionage team

- When investigating, you and memelord ninja are speaking to each other in partly jargon, partly heavily-memed language

- Possibly having watched and/or read crimes shows or movie you two are getting along so well

- “So here’s our undercover story: husband, wife and husband’s best friend---” // “Wait, do we get cool names too?!” // “Yeah, I’ll get to that part later… or I’ll do it now. Miyako, Tsune and Chozaburo; sounds cool?” // “Noice.”

- As the conversation continues, Yuki is left by himself to wonder how on earth did he get friends like you, shaking his head lightly as your talk no longer makes sense to him

Yoshimoto

- This beautiful mailman sees you one day sketching and as a man of the arts he comes over to look at what you’re drawing

- What he sees is a detailed sketch of a man, possibly a random person. The facial structure, features are all spot on! He is in full admiration mode

- “My, such a lovely piece you are making there. Has someone commissioned you to make him a portrait?” // “Actually Yoshimoto-san, I am making this to be posted around town. A wanted poster of some sorts… he’s a criminal.”

- You explained to him your job as a forensic artist, and he listens to every single word of it. Yoshimoto would find himself asking about your style of sketching as you continue drawing

- When the posters are up he is one of those people who would look at it for a long time; for him it’s not for memorizing the perp’s face, but simply to appreciate the art, fanning himself ever so gracefully

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dakotacrisis · 4 years

Text

It’s a Fluke

I got like two other one shots that I’m gonna get posted later. Tis the season and all that jazz.

Felix and Marinette get partnered for a project and neither are too thrilled about it...at first.

---

Felix and Marinette had never gotten on. Felix couldn’t get past her excessive cheer and energy and Marinette was sick of his cold shoulder and grumpy attitude. It was how it was between them and everyone knew it. Felix had joined the ranks of the exclusive group of people Marinette couldn’t stand and Marinette became another casualty of trying to befriend Felix and utterly failing.

That was until the day they got paired for a project. The partners had been paired by the teacher and were not up for debate. Whether they liked it or not they were gonna have to work together.

Things started off cordial enough. Straight to the point, no nonsense, everything was about their work. They chose what they were going to work on and figured out times they could get together to review the progress they made. It was going to be fine.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Felix approached her at her locker, “Did you finish the research for your part last night?”

“Yes.” She pulled out her notes on the subject. “You?”

“All done.” he flashed his own notes. “Meet at the library during free period to review?”

“Sounds like a plan.” And with that they parted and went to class.

Free period rolled around and they settled into the library to continue working.

Marinette sat across from her looking over her notes and making edits and constructing a good flow for the information when she felt like someone was watching her. She looked up and Felix’s sharp grey eyes were trained on her like he was studying her.

“Yes?” She asked when he didn’t say anything.

He blinked a couple times before sneering a bit. “Do you know you hum while you work? It’s quite distracting.”

“Sorry?” Marinette huffed as she went back to her work. She thought about humming again just to spite him but decided not to. She would be mature about this.

“It’s a fluke?” Felix said.

“What was that?”

“The song you were humming. It was It’s a Fluke, was it not?”

“It was.” Marinette nodded. “How did you know? I didn’t think that was your type of music.”

“You’d be surprised what all I listen to.”

“Hopefully not XY’s stuff.” Marinette grimaced.

“Goodness no, I have an eclectic palette of music and that man’s dribble meets nowhere near my tastes.” Felix scowled. “Doesn’t help that his latest song has been on every radio station on repeat for at least a week now. It is starting to drive me up a wall.”

“I know! It comes on at the bakery all the time and my parents are one repeat away from just disconnecting the sound system to the store altogether. I’ve never actively listened to it but if it started playing I would be able to sing along and I hate it.”

A brief smirk creased his otherwise blank face before dropping once again. “Yes, but enough about music. We should be getting back to work.”

“Right, of course.” Marinette shook her head and raced to find the place she left off.

The next day was more of the same with them working in relative silence. Marinette made a small comment about a song she liked that she thought Felix may be interested in. He didn’t say much but nodded consideringly which gave Marinette hope he would actually listen to it later.

When school let out Marinette frowned at the torrential downpour. Her house was right across the street but she would be soaked through by the time she got to cover. If only she hadn’t forgotten her umbrella again.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Felix met her at the entrance, “I was hoping to catch you before you left for the day.”

“What is it?”

“I won’t be able to work during free period tomorrow but I would like to finish up what we have so that we can do any final edits before our presentation Friday.” He said, “Would you mind if we worked after school? Considering your schedule is open of course.”

“Oh yeah, shouldn’t be a problem. Where were you thinking?”

“My house, six PM sharp. Does that work for you?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Then I will see you then.” He pulled out his umbrella and started descending towards the car waiting for him.

Marinette looked out towards her house and sighed. Might as well get it over with now. She stepped out into the rain trying to shield her head from the downpour as much as she could with her bookbag.

She was halfway to the street crossing when the rain let up around her. She looked up and Felix was walking next to her with his umbrella stretched over her. “What are--” she started to ask.

“I’m not so heartless as to let you trudge your way home in this rain.” He cut across her. His eyes trained forward. “Be quick though, my ride is waiting.”

“Thanks.” Marinette turned to him once she was at the bakery door. “That was kind of you.”

“Do me a favor and don’t forget your umbrella next time. It does no one any good when you’re forgetful.”

Marinette’s small smile curdled into a scowl. “Right. Sorry for inconveniencing you.” Marinette stepped into the bakery and slammed the door behind her. At least she tried. There was an automatic stopper on the door that slowed its close so it couldn’t be slammed.

Felix stood on the other side with an entertained smile as Marinette glared at the slowly closing door. Uppity little weasel!

She turned sharp on her heel and stomped upstairs. Every time she thinks he’s being nice he does a one eighty and she’s right back to annoyed.

A night of rest and a subsequent pleasant morning didn’t do much to improve her attitude towards Felix the following day. Which was bad seeing as how she had agreed to go over to his house that evening. Whatever. At least this project was almost done then she wouldn’t have to interact with him again.

She got to his house and was buzzed in. He greeted her at the door and Marinette was taken aback by the casual boy in front of her. Worn out pair of jeans and sweatshirt. Even his usually perfectly styled hair was mussed.

“Is there a reason you’re gawking at me?” Felix asked when she hadn’t said anything.

“Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so...casual before.” She was going to say laid back but even in his pajamas she didn’t think she’d be able to say that about Felix. No matter what he was always ramrod straight and professional. No amount of sweats or messy hair could cover that.

Felix gave an amused scoff before gesturing her inside. “We can work in my room. Is that alright with you?”

“Sure.” She followed him up to his room.

Now this felt more like Felix. Simple decor, tall bookshelves, everything was organized and tidy and there was a distinct pine smell as if someone just finished dusting. Felix sat down at his desk and Marinette stood off to the side shuffling through her own work.

“You can sit if it makes you more comfortable.” Felix said after a couple minutes.

Marinette looked around but didn’t see another chair that she could use. “Where?”

“Oh right…” Felix looked up and scanned the room. “You can sit on the bed so long as you take off your shoes first.”

“Okay…” Marinette pulled off her shoes before nestling at the corner of his bed. She spread out her work around her as she tried to compose it all into a cohesive whole.

This is weird. This is so weird.

“What do you want done with this bit? I’m not sure where to put it.” Marinette asked.

“What bit?” Felix collected the paper. “Oh this, huh,” He pushed some papers out of his way to make room and sat down next to her. “We could put it--no that wouldn’t work. We could always--no that doesn’t fit either.”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure if we need it. It seems really irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.” She reached across him for a paper. “We could just jump to this next part and skip that bit. What do you think?”

Felix was staring at her again but it wasn’t out of annoyance. He was studying her again.

“Felix?” Marinette inquired quietly. “What are you…”

She glanced down and noticed she was far closer to him than she had been a moment ago. “Sorry. I should have just asked you to pass the paper instead of leaning across you like that.” She tried to withdraw but at the last second he touched her shoulder.

His eyes were still trained on her face flicking across her features like he was searching for something. Then he gently pushed her away. He stood up and stiffly walked back to his desk. “That sounds like a fine plan. You can throw that last bit out.”

Marinette was still trying to figure out what happened a moment ago. Felix was making a definitive point of avoiding looking at her.

They finished their work and Marinette started packing up to leave.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Felix walked her down to the door, “I listened to that song you recommended.”

“Oh. What did you think?”

“It was good.”

She waited for him to elaborate but that seemed to be as much as he was willing to share.

“Okay. Good. Glad you liked it.” She opened the front door. It was raining again. “Crap.”

Felix gave a small sigh. “Forget your umbrella again?”

“The forecast said it was gonna be clear tonight. Would you mind if I borrowed yours? I’ll give it back first thing tomorrow.”

“If you can’t remember your own umbrella what is there to convince me you’ll remember to bring me mine?”

“Fine then. Geez. I’ll just use my bag.” Marinette took one step outside before she pulled right back in. “Felix!”

“Calm down.” He pulled his umbrella out of the rack by the door. “Let’s go.”

“You won’t let me borrow your umbrella but you will walk me home?”

“Do you want to be dry or not?”

“Are you going to make a snarky remark like you did yesterday if I do?”

“If I apologized would you come along already?”

“Don’t. My house is just down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s also late. And I would feel better knowing you got back to your house safely.”

“Nothing is going to happen in the five minutes it’d take me to run to my house.”

“Marinette,” the use of her first name caught her off guard. He held the umbrella towards her. “I am sincerely asking you to let me escort you home for peace of mind.”

She stepped out next to him. “Okay. Thank you.”

They started the walk home in silence before Felix spoke up again.

“I am sorry if whatever I may have said offended you before. Sincerity seems to spark a defensive reaction in me for reasons unknown.”

“That seems rather silly, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” he chuckled dryly, “I suppose it does.”

Marinette could see the lights of her house in the distance. For whatever reason Felix slowed down in his stride forcing Marinette to slow as well to keep under the umbrella.

“Dupain-Cheng, I was wondering something.” Felis asked, “What is your thoughts on vinyl records?”

“Vinyl? My mother really likes them but she never let me touch them when I was younger. Why?”

“There is a little vinyl shop I know that has some albums I think you would like if you were interested.”

“Are you serious?”

“I would like to see what other recommendations you have for me. My usual tracks have grown stale to listen to and could do with some newer sound.” He looked away from her. “I understand if you would rather pass. I fear I am not the best company even in the sincerest of circumstances.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You’re grumpy and have a tone issue but you’re not outwardly malicious like other people I know. I have to say I am surprised though. I had the distinct impression you didn’t care for me very much.”

“True you are far bubblier than I would like and it is hard to take in all at once. But I would much rather be partnered with you then say Kim or Nino.”

“Such praise.” Marinette rolled her eyes. They were finally back at her house. “When were you planning on going to this shop?”

“Tomorrow after class?”

“It’s a date.” She nodded. “I mean not a date. Like a date date. But a get together as friends kinda date. You know what. Let’s call it an outing. Not a date. That sounds good to me.” She fumbled for the door handle to her house. “I’ll uh see you tomorrow?”

Felix was smiling at her in much the same way he did when he walked her home yesterday. “See you tomorrow, Dupain-Cheng.”

#they're both disasters in their own right #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix agreste #felix graham de vanily #felinette #writing

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