#anyways they’ve already got shit in my wips so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingsofeverything · 10 months

Note

Hi! Larry on a boat sounds really fun! I could use a good lunchtime read, thanks so much for offering these! We always appreciate all of you authors for sharing your AMAZING stories, but especially now, let’s sprinkle some additional appreciation on top! 🥰

omgggg this is my 3rd try posting this. i checked and it's within the character limit for tumblr, but the app kept shutting down. so now i'm on my laptop. ANYWAY. so this was a wip that i really wanted to make happen, but it hasn't worked out for me. i started it when the pandemic first started. louis is self-isolating on a boat (inspired by someone who did that here!) and i think he's older/silver foxy in this version. there's another (lost) version where they're exes.

thank you! i hope you like it!

“It’s such bullshit, man,” Niall says, pushing the sopping wet mop around on the floor behind the bar. It’s more effort than he usually makes and the smell of bleach is strong. “Can’t believe we still have to work.”

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got rent due.” Harry downs his shot of tequila and pats his pocket. “Smoke?”

“Weed?” Niall asks, and when Harry nods, Niall does too. “Let me finish my register and shit. Have a beer while you wait.”

Harry winds up having two and a half beers before Niall is finished. They wash their hands in the kitchen, laughing because they’ve both had their hands in and out of bleach water all evening, sanitizing everything in the restaurant. They walk out with another waiter, splitting up in the parking lot. Down the road from the bar where they work are the docks where local fishermen sell their catch, and where many of them keep their boats. Very rarely are there people out there this late at night, even in the peak of summertime. With it being February, and with the plague or whatever, there definitely won’t be anyone around.

“Think I’m gonna call out tomorrow,” Niall says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. They can’t fire us. Or like, at the very least, they’ll hire us back.” It sounds almost sensible, but then Harry remembers that his electric bill is past due and his roommate paid him in weed again.

“You make money tonight or something?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I did alright. Three hundred.”

“Shit. I need to quit being a waiter and tend bar,” Harry says. He didn’t make a third of that tonight.

Niall parks as close as he can, and they walk to the end of the dock. “Oh, wow. Nice boat.”

“What is that, like… Is that considered a yacht?” Harry asks, squinting into the dark. It does look like one. A small one. It has a sail, so at least it’s a sailboat. Probably.

Carefully, Harry unfolds the piece of aluminum foil he hid in the dry storage room when he first got to the restaurant that afternoon. The joint is lumpy and loose because he was in a hurry, and already high when he rolled it, but it tears easily, right down the middle. Harry makes sure to pinch the paper tight, and twists the ends of both half-sized joints before handing one to Niall.

“That boat’s anchoring? Anchored? Whatever. It’s so close, like, why didn’t they dock it?” Harry asks, exhaling through his nose. There’s no science to back it up, but his hypothesis is that he gets a better high that way. “Bet it’d be easy to steal, right? Just, like… Swim out to it, lower the sails, and let the wind take you.”

Niall snorts. And coughs. And coughs again.

“You better be choking on smoke, man.” Harry digs in his pocket and pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer, holding it up until Niall opens his palm.

Niall coughs again and laughs his wheezing high-laugh. “Nah, man, I was picturing you stealing a boat.”

“I could do it,” Harry insists. It does seem plausible. Wind. Waves. Sails. The desire to be free. However, there’s also the desire to not get arrested. Or like, die in a boating accident or something. It’s not like he knows how to sail. Still, the drama. It’s appealing.

“Right,” Niall says. “I don’t even think you could swim out to it. It’s far. And then you’d have to climb on board, lower the sail—”

“Okay, so I probably couldn’t steal it. But I could swim out there. And get on board. There’s like, a ladder. I think. Steps, maybe? It’s not that far.” Maybe it’s the beer and weed, but he’s sure he could do it, and he doesn’t think he’ll drown. “Bet I can swim there and back in like, no time.”

Niall snorts and coughs, standing up from the dock and pointing out at the small yacht. “It’s pretty far out in the inlet. Like, that’s a fucking swim, man.”

“Still think I could do it,” Harry says, pinching the joint and holding it to his lips.

“Give you half my tips if you do it,” Niall says, and Harry whips his head around.

“Seriously?” He could really use the money.

“You’re not gonna fucking drown, are you?”

Harry shrugs. “Probably not.”

“I don’t know, man.” Niall hums quietly, circling his hand in the air, leaving a trail of smoke. “That’s like, one of my biggest fears: dying doing something stupid while high.”

“Legitimate fear. Good one,” Harry says, patting his pockets. Maybe Niall will bet him to do something… easier. “You backing out? ’Cause I’m not.”

“No, no. Hundred fifty,” Niall says, and Harry has to rethink their friendship. “But like, can you take a life jacket?”

Harry scowls. “Where am I supposed to get one of those?”

Niall points at the line of boats along the dock.

“I’m not stealing a life jacket. Just, like… Can you keep up with my shit. Like my wallet and keys?” Harry asks, and Niall nods.

“Yeah, man,” Niall says.

“My phone too,” Harry says, handing it over. He kicks off his smelly work shoes and peels off his socks. It’ll be a nice, brisk swim. Probably isn’t even that cold. He walks to the edge of the dock and bends down, dipping his toe into the water. It’s certainly not warm.

He can do this. He’s a strong swimmer. Was on the swim team when he was… Well, that was a long time ago. And he supposes it wasn’t so much a team as a group of moms trying to get their kids to burn off energy in a pool. Still. He kept the ribbons and participation medals.

“Okay, give me an hour. If I’m not back, call like, the coast guard or something.” Harry nods once and strips out of his dirty uniform, kicking it into a pile with his socks and shoes.

“An hour? I can’t sit here for an hour and like, worry about you drowning.”

“It won’t take me that long. Look,” Harry says, pointing a shaking finger at the boat. “It’s not that far. And if I don’t think I can swim back, I’ll… I’ll steal a lifejacket.”

Niall lifts his phone and says, “Okay. I’m going to record this.”

“Use my phone, man.” Harry grabs it from the pile of his things and tosses it to Niall.

“Yeah, okay. And here…” Niall pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and hands Harry the bet money.

Harry reaches for his wallet, but stops, standing and tucking the cash into his briefs. They’re tight enough that he doesn’t think he’ll lose the money in the water. He walks back to the end of the dock, and turns to face Niall.

“Go ahead, Harry.” Niall holds up his phone, wheezing another laugh, and says, “Tell us what you’re about to do.”

“Swim to that boat and back. Niall gave me a hundred and fifty bucks,” Harry pats his dick through his underwear, and Niall snorts.

“He put the money under his dick,” Niall says, turning the phone around to film himself. “Like, he used his dick as a paper weight.”

“This is why we wash our hands, people,” Harry says, cupping himself. “Okay, okay, okay. Here goes!”

Toes curled around the edge of the wooden dock, Harry takes a few deep breaths, trying to gauge the distance to the boat, and then he dives. It’s remarkable what you remember. Swimming, though he hasn’t done it in years, feels similar to riding a bike in that way. Of course, his muscles aren’t used to the workout, and the movements don’t come as fluidly as they once did, but he’s also taller and stronger and, once he gets into a groove with his freestyle stroke, he is one hundred percent certain for the first time that he is not going to die while high and doing something stupid. Not tonight. His mom would be so pissed.

Still, by the time he’s close enough to the boat to see that there is, in fact, a ladder similar to the ones in the pool he used to swim in, he’s exhausted. He can make it back to the dock, but only after a rest.

Waves rock the boat, making it harder to hold on to the ladder, but Harry gets his footing and climbs up, water running off of his body onto the boat deck. The air is colder than he remembers, and his nipples pebble instantly.

One hand on the ladder to steady himself, Harry turns around and waves at Niall. When Niall waves back, Harry gives him two thumbs up, which he hopes are visible on camera, and looks around.

Turns out that yachts are pretty boring. At least the visible parts. The cold water sobered Harry the second he surfaced and took his first breath, and after swimming for so long, he’s now sober, exhausted, hungry, and shivering. And whatever’s interesting about the boat is probably locked up behind the two small doors that Harry hopes lead to some sort of room below. Though, he supposes there could be an engine or something in there. While he’s on board, he might as well find out.

Harry reaches for the doors to see if he can feel any handles or latches, though it’s difficult to tell what’s what in the moonlight. The doors swing open towards Harry, and he screams, stumbling backwards into the table that he just carefully avoided banging his hip on, and he falls sideways, crashing into the edge of the cushioned bench, and landing in a twisted tangle of limbs.

Niall coughs, and Harry thinks he might’ve hit his head.

A scratchy voice asks, “What the fuck?”

“Niall?” Harry speaks to the stars in the sky, too stunned to move.

“Okay, what the fuck, Niall?”

Funny. That doesn’t sound like Niall. Harry lets his head loll to the side and squints.

“No, you’re not Niall,” Harry says decisively.

“No, I’m not Niall. I’m Louis.” The most beautiful man Harry’s ever seen rises up with a glowing golden light, and floats over him. He frowns, which makes Harry sad, and points at Harry, which makes him happy, and says, “You’re Niall.”

“No, I’m Harry.” He’s almost positive.

“Okay, Harry, then. What the fuck?” Louis coughs, covering his mouth with his arm. “Damn it.”

“Oh… Do you have the plague?” Harry asks.

“Did you swim out here to ask me that?”

“Uh… um…” Harry thinks about the truth, while Louis looks him up and down, and wonders what Louis would prefer to hear. Leaning in and holding Harry’s face in his hand, Louis moves Harry’s head side to side, peering intently into his eyes. Harry lets him because it seems like the thing to do, it’s not like he’s busy otherwise. Louis combs his fingers through Harry’s hair, close to his scalp, and Harry stares in wonder at the look of concern on Louis’ face. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Louis tips his head to the side. “Yeah, what?”

“Don’t know,” Harry says. “You touched my face. We’re not supposed to touch our faces and I think that includes, like, other people’s faces.”

“Shit,” Louis says, pulling back and standing up.

“I’m in my underwear,” Harry says, because he is. He just realized that he’s laying on the deck, he supposes that’s what it’s called, in his tiny pink briefs and nothing else. His tiny pink briefs, a hundred a fifty dollars, and nothing else.

Louis looks down at Harry’s crotch, nodding to confirm the fact, then looks up, holding his hand over his eyes as if to shade them from the moonlight. He turns back to Harry and asks, “Did you swim out here? There’s a guy on the dock, waving at me.”

“That’s Niall,” Harry says.

“Oh, that’s Niall,” Louis says, waving at Niall. Maybe it’s the moonlight or maybe he hit his head, but it’s the most graceful wave he’s ever seen. Louis scowls down at him. “You swam out here?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, pleased to know the answer.

“Why?”

Harry remembers that he has a body, that it’s mostly naked, and that Louis is looking at him. He reaches down and cups his cock. “Niall gave me a hundred and fifty dollars.”

“And you’re touching your dick because…”

“Because of the hundred and fifty dollars,” Harry says. Duh. “Duh.”

“Okay,” Louis says, dragging out the sound and scowling at him again. Harry wants to pout, but Louis holds out his hand, as if to help Harry up, so Harry grins at him instead. Lifting his hands in the air, Harry stretches his arms up until Louis grabs him by both wrists, and pulls. Because there isn’t much space, Harry doesn’t get all the way to his feet before Louis runs out of room and can’t back up any farther. But Harry manages to get his ass onto the bench seat, and figures he’s not likely to fall again.

“Sorry I, um…” Harry rubs the back of his head where he hit it, and there’s a bump, but no blood when he checks his hand. “Sorry. We were just fucking around. Niall bet I couldn’t swim out here. I didn’t know anyone was on the boat.”

“Were you planning to swim back? Or did you think that far ahead?” Louis asks, dropping back down through the door that he came out of before. A moment later, he returns with a stack of folded towels. He drapes a towel over Harry’s head and wraps one around his shoulders. “Dry off. Warm up.”

“Thanks,” Harry says. It’s nice of Louis to be so hospitable. He very carefully bends over where he’s seated and wraps a towel around his hair, then tightens the one on his shoulders. “I can probably swim back in a little while.”

“You really think you can swim back?”

“No, but I was hoping you’d offer to like, sail me up to the dock.”

“Not tonight,” Louis says. “In the morning. When I can see.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry checks beside him on the bench and, seeing nothing, lays down.

Louis snorts. “Come below deck. You might as well sleep in a bed. You’ve already been exposed.”

“Exposed?” Harry gasps, towel toppling off his head as he clutches his hand to his chest. “You have the plague!”

“I don’t, but my boss does,” Louis says with a shrug. “So, you could, I guess? This is his boat, so…”

“Great. Thanks,” Harry says, unwrapping the towel from his hair.

“You swam out here, man,” Louis says, turning and climbing through the doors. Now that he’s not lying on the floor, Harry can see the steps that lead down into the space under the boat. Below deck or whatever. Louis calls from down there, “You can use my phone.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry tries to focus on the end of the dock and can see Niall still standing there, waiting. Carefully, Harry gets to his feet and makes his way over to the ladder, waving at him. Niall waves back and Harry points towards Louis, who he can see is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Probably worried that Harry will fall again. Harry drapes his towels over his shoulders, carefully climbing down, and Louis appears at the ready, should Harry be unable to handle three measly steps. It’s cute. Louis is cute. “Do you have any Tylenol?”

“I think, yeah. You hit your head, then?”

Harry nods, and Louis reaches into a cabinet, which turns out to be a refrigerator, opening a bottle of water and handing it to Harry, who takes it, along with two Tylenol.

“Here,” Louis says, unlocking his phone and placing it in Harry’s open palm.

The only phone number Harry knows besides his mom’s is his own, which is convenient, since he left his phone with Niall. He climbs back up the step ladder and waves both arms to get Niall’s attention, hoping he’ll put it together and pick up. After his phone rings once, Harry waves again, phone in his hand so that maybe Niall will see it. When Niall jumps and claps, Harry laughs and holds the phone to his ear.

“Harry?”

“Hey, man. Shit, I’m glad you answered.”

“Yeah, what the fuck is going on? Who’s that dude?”

“Louis,” Harry says, smiling at the sound. “It’s his boat. I fell and hit my head, but I’m okay. But also, I probably shouldn’t swim back. So Louis said he’ll take me in the morning, if you’ll come pick me up, but guess what?”

“What?” Niall obliges.

“I guess he’d quarantined himself out here or something. So I’m going to have to lock myself up in my room. Probably see if I can get tested. Will you bring me food? And maybe like a mask or something for me to wear while we’re in the car together? Oh, man, we share a bathroom…”

“Shit, man. Might as well stay on the boat,” Niall says.

“Well, fuck you too, Niall,” Harry says.

“Just sayin’ you might as well, but whatever. Yeah, I’ll come pick you up, but if you cough on me, I swear, Harry, I—”

“Thanks, man. Love you,” Harry says. “I guess I’ll call you when I’m about to head towards the dock.”

“Okay, Harry. Be careful,” Niall says, and hangs up. Harry waves at him one more time, then climbs back below deck to face a worried Louis.

As Harry takes the last step, he hands Louis his phone, catching his toe and falling into Louis’ chest. He blushes, remembering again that he’s practically naked. “Oops.”

“Hi,” Louis says, steadying him with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Okay?”

“Wait a minute…” Harry narrows his eyes. “Come below deck. Is that some… some euphemism?”

“Euphemism?” Louis laughs, rolling his eyes. “No one’s having sex, Harry. There’s a guest cabin, so you’ll have your own berth.”

“Oh,” Harry says, unable to hide his disappointment. “Okay, thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Louis says, and Harry turns in place, away from the tiny kitchen, which he thinks probably has a specific nautical name, towards the other side of the stepladder. It reminds him of his grandparents’ camper. “Listen, um… Do you want something to sleep in? I have some—”

“Nah, I’m good,” Harry says, crawling onto the thin mattress and looking back over his shoulder. “Usually sleep naked, so I’d just take whatever it is off again.”

“Oh… Okay.” Louis nods, swallowing audibly.

The bed in the guest cabin is made so neatly that Harry wonders if it’s ever been slept in, blankets tucked in so tight that it’s a bit of a struggle to pull them free, but he gets them loose and crawls underneath completely before wiggling out of his briefs. Sitting up, Harry shakes out his damp underwear and hangs them on a little hook that juts out of the wall, probably for someone’s glasses or hat.

“Thanks, Louis, for like, not having me arrested.”

Louis laughs quietly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re welcome.”

“Also, thank you for letting me sleep here, but not for possibly giving me the plague. I’m not thrilled about that,” Harry says.

Again, Louis shrugs. “Sorry. Goodnight, Harry.”

“’Night, Louis,” Harry says, but he doesn’t lie back down until Louis steps forward and pulls the thin door to the cabin closed. As soon as he does, Harry reaches under the blanket and pulls out a hundred and fifty dollars, tucking the rolled up bills inside the flap of his briefs. Imagine, swimming all that way for a bet, and then losing the money. Especially now that he’s going to have to pay to go to the doctor.

It’s an odd night’s sleep on the water. Once, when Harry was a teenager, he spent the night on a waterbed, but this is nothing like that. Occasionally, he feels like he’s falling, and wakes up panicking for a few seconds until he remembers where he is. When the sun rises, Harry is finally getting to sleep, so he buries his face in the pillow and ignores it. Louis will wake him up when he’s ready to take him to the dock.

————

“Harry,” Louis’ urgent voice cuts through his dream. “Did you fuck with the anchor or something last night?”

Rolling onto his back, Harry rubs his eyes. “What? No.”

“You didn’t pull it up or mess with it?”

“No,” Harry says, sitting up. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it must’ve come loose and we drifted or something, ’cause we’re not anchored off the inlet. There’s no dock, but we’re like, close to land, so…”

“Seriously? You don’t know where we are?” Harry asks, throwing back the blankets, and scooting to the end of the bed.

“Can you?” Louis gestures to Harry’s crotch, and Harry smiles proudly. His dick is one of his favorite body parts; It’s nice when it’s appreciated by others. Still, he pulls on his pink briefs.

“How can you not know where we are?” Harry stands, adjusting his semi, and Louis scoffs. “I just woke up.”

Louis ignores him and climbs out onto the deck, so Harry follows him up, looking around. The boat is just as close to the shore as it was from the dock, if not closer, and there’s marshland, which is somewhat familiar, but there are no docks or other boats. They must’ve floated into a preserved wildlife area or something.

“I think we drifted north?” Louis slides aviator sunglasses over his eyes, and says. “My phone died, so I plugged it in. But we can probably check in a minute.”

“Oh,” Harry says, and watches Louis fiddle with something on the pedestal beside the steering wheel or helm or whatever it’s called.

“Shit. Seriously?” Louis smacks his hand against the wheel and slowly lowers his head down until he knocks his forehead on it. “The engine isn’t working.”

“Thought this was a sailboat,” Harry says, looking up at the empty mast.

“Haha. It is, but boats like this have engines too, and that’s what I used. I don’t know a lot about sailing.”

“Me neither,” Harry says. “I don't know anything about it.”

“Okay, so, it’s fine. My phone’s probably charged enough now,” Louis says, going back below deck. This time Harry doesn’t follow, feeling sure that Louis will bring his phone out for a better signal.

A few minutes later, Harry climbs down to find Louis sitting on the little sofa.

“Nothing’s working. None of the outlets. The fridge. Lights. Nothing.”

“What… What do we do?” Harry asks, uselessly flipping a light switch.

“Would Niall call someone? Like, if you don’t show up or call by a certain time?”

Harry nods. “He’s probably sleeping. Expecting me to call and wake him up.”

“Okay,” Louis says. “Okay, um… We have everything we need, like food and water and necessities. Hopefully Niall will call someone—”

“The Coast Guard,” Harry helpfully supplies.

“Or anyone. But they’ll come find us.”

“How is nothing working?” Harry asks, following Louis below deck.

“No clue,” Louis says, lying down on the little sofa. “Maybe we got struck by lightning.”

Staring at him, Harry drops onto the bench across from him. “It didn’t storm. It hasn’t rained at all. How’s that supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know, Harry. I’m not a weatherman.”

“Meteorologist.”

“Dude,” Louis says, turning his head to look right at him. “Shut up.”

Harry shuts up.

Sweatpants would be nice. It’s not super cold. The weather is nice, actually, with clear skies and sun, and typically Harry’s pro-nudity, but Louis is wearing sweatpants. Dark grey ones. And they look comfy and warm and soft and they drape over Louis’ dick, drawing attention to it in a way that Harry can’t tell the intent. Which is why he wants sweatpants. Then he could lose the pink briefs, which dried stiffly overnight, and without underwear on, he knows he could draw Louis’ attention.

“Remember when you offered me something to wear?” Harry sucks his lower lip between his teeth, ducking his chin and looking through his lashes.

“Stop staring,” Louis says, and Harry’s mouth drops open. Not that he was being discreet, but he wasn’t expecting that response. “I have something. Hold on.”

Harry watches while Louis opens the door to his room, frowning at the oddly shaped bed. After a moment, during which only the curve of Louis’ ass is visible to Harry while the rest of him is hidden by the wall, Louis emerges with a wrinkled pair of cut off sweatpants.

“They’re clean,” Louis says, shaking them out. “I didn’t think I’d be around people. So I just stuffed my clean laundry into a trash bag.”

“Okay, um, thank you,” Harry says, taking the shorts. “I keep my laundry in a basket.”

“I’m sure you do,” Louis says, stepping up into the sunlight.

As soon as Louis is out of sight, Harry strips out of his briefs, tucking his money into the front, and hiding them under the edge of the mattress. The cut-off shorts are a much lighter grey than the pair of loosely fitting sweatpants Louis is wearing, and when Harry pulls them on, he finds they’re quite snug. He makes sure his dick is displayed in an aesthetically appealing, yet still properly lewd way, and ascends the stairs.

“In a way, those are worse than your see-through pink bikini,” Louis says when he turns around. Even with his sunglasses on, he squints, and Harry wished he had a pair to protect his eyes. It’s bright out.

“Those are briefs,” Harry says, looking down at the shadow his soft cock makes. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Piss over the side,” Louis says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “No way the head is working when nothing else is.”

“Gross.”

“Yes. It is,” Louis says.

Harry holds onto the railing with one hand, standing at the top of the ladder he climbed the night before, and pushed his shorts down with his free hand. It takes him a minute to get past being gun shy, but the wind blows and he pees, laughing at the arc it makes before it hits the water.

Dick tucked in, Harry carefully sits on the bench and lets himself look. The trees on the bank come right up to the water in places, curving over so that it’d be nearly impenetrable. No telling what’s on the other side either.

“What if I, um… need to, um…”

“If you can’t hold it,” Louis starts, pausing and looking at Harry over his sunglasses. “We’d have to… I guess we’d have to… We could inflate the dinghy, paddle it over there.” He points at the nearest bit of sand — a beach, Harry supposes, though it’s not much bigger than the sailboat — and says, “And if you’ve ever been camping…”

“Oh,” Harry says, cheeks turning pink. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, hopefully, Niall will wake up and call someone. Or maybe somebody will see us.”

“Who’s gonna see us? There’s no one around.”

“True. I don’t know… Maybe we should go to the end of the, um… the trees there.” Louis points in the opposite direction, and Harry turns to look, shading his eyes with his hands. It’s not far, but there’s no way Harry would swim it, and he doesn’t know how far he could paddle on an empty stomach. Without coffee. Or a bathroom.

“Are you serious?” Harry asks instead. “What’s that gonna do?”

Louis lifts the bench across from Harry and says, “Flares. Maybe we’re closer to the inlet than we realize and someone will see.”

“Okay, yeah. That makes sense,” Harry says, imagining hours on the water, paddling and going mere inches. “Do you have a hat or something?”

“Yeah, we’ll be gone a while. Sunscreen’s probably a good idea. Shirts, too.” Louis leads the way below deck. “And coffee.”

They wind up eating cereal, and Harry borrows a white t-shirt, a pair of oversized yellow sunglasses that he doesn’t think belong to Louis, a Louisville snapback that he thinks does, and the rest of a bottle of sunscreen that’s two months past it’s expiration date. It’s enough for his nose.

Louis climbs down first, into the dinghy, and Harry tosses the paddles to him. It’s reassuring watching him moving gracefully in the little boat, tucking a cooler in the back corner alongside the package of signal flares. Even if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he looks like it, and he thought to bring lunch. He helps Harry from the ladder to the dinghy, pointing to the other side.

“Sit up there,” Louis says, tapping his paddle on the end of the seat up front. “I’ll steer from the back.”

Using his paddle, Louis pushes the dinghy away from the boat, and they start towards the edge of the trees. At first, they’re out of sync with each other, but they get it after a few minutes, paddling and coasting, paddling and coasting, while Louis keeps them heading in the right direction. It’s exhausting and they’ve barely started.

“See that beach?” Louis points to a short stretch of sand with a fallen tree in the center. “Stopping there.”

“Okay,” Harry says, paddling as Louis steers them that way.

They don’t talk much, except for Louis giving instructions occasionally to move them closer to the beach. They get there faster than Harry expected, and it’s much too early for lunch. As they approach the sand, the water clears some, and Harry watches crabs and fish darting away at the sight of the boat. There’s a splash, and Harry looks up to see Louis wading his way around to the front of the boat, holding onto the rope on the side and guiding it in. Harry puts his paddle beside Louis’, tucking the end under the seat so it won’t fall out.

“Sit,” Louis says as he passes Harry, reaching his hand down and circling his fingers around Harry’s ankle. Harry sits. And Louis pulls the boat through the shallow water to the beach. “Okay, you can jump off now. Help me get the boat onto the sand.”

Even in a few inches of water, the boat is wobbly and hard to move around in, but Harry quickly scoots to the side and throws his legs over, sliding down into the cold water and helping haul the boat ashore. They pull it all the way up into the sand, and Louis grabs the oars, tossing one to Harry. He reaches into the cooler and pulls out a roll of toilet paper, wrapping it around his hand and giving the wad of tissue to Harry.

“Take your paddle. You go that way,” Louis says, pointing at Harry, who takes a moment to figure out what’s going on. Louis jerks his thumb in the opposite direction. “I’ll go this way.”

“Okay…” Harry stands there, paddle in one hand, tissue in the other. “How will I know how far to go?”

Louis sighs, looking at the woods around the beach. It’s fairly dense, and neither of them have shoes on. “I’m just going to sing. I’ll sing, you sing, so we can judge how far away from each other we are. We go as far as we can, I guess, and then just… dig a hole. And, you know, bury it.”

“Okey dokey,” Harry says.

“Yeah…” Louis takes his sunglasses off and hangs them from the loose collar of his t-shirt, and says, “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine.”

“Oh!”

“Gotta gotta be down because I want it all,” Louis sings, raising his eyebrows and spinning on his heel. He walks towards the tree line, raising his voice as he goes. “It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?”

“It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss,” Harry sings back, walking the other way.

Harry stumbles over vines and branches, singing his heart out, turning now and then to look back at the boat. When he can’t see the boat, which doesn’t take long considering how thick the growth is, he stops to listen. He can’t hear Louis, which means Louis hopefully can’t hear him. It is not the most embarrassing bathroom situation Harry’s ever been in, so he takes it all in stride, and he sings his way back to the beach and the boat, where Louis is waiting with hand sanitizer. A king among men.

They push the boat back into the water, climbing in once they’re deep enough, and paddling towards the edge of the trees. When they get there, the sun is high in the sky, and Harry’s arms are no longer his own. They’ve become extensions of his paddle.

“Let’s get around the end here, then hopefully we’ll know which way to point the flare,” Louis says, paddling harder. Harry follows suit and they pass the last few trees on their left.

The inlet where he first climbed onto the yacht leads to the ocean. Harry’s been out there before, and just past the trees at the end is a buoy and a marker and past that, you can see up and down the beach. Hotels and large houses that meet the dunes, and dunes that meet the sand. There’s a natural area nearby where trees grow right up to the beach, but on the other side of the much wider dunes there, is a parking lot.

When they pass the last few trees on their left, they lift their paddles, and Harry looks left, then he looks right, then left again. The way the land curves along the water makes it difficult to see much, but there is no land visible across the water, and it looks like the ocean. He looks again, south he reckons, and turns to Louis. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Jesus,” Louis says, shading his eyes, even with sunglasses and a hat on. “I don’t see anything.”

“How far did we drift in… What? Six hours?” Harry shakes out his arms, then takes off his hat, combing his fingers through his sweaty, dirty hair. It’s so far back to the boat. The inflatable dinghy floats, no longer moving forward into the ocean, water lapping at the sides. Harry checks that his paddle is secure, and jumps overboard. Cold water touches every inch of his skin at once, making him forget which way is up, but he figures it out, kicking to the surface, gasping for air.

“Harry!” Louis shouts, holding his paddle out for Harry to grab hold. “What the fuck?”

Harry lets go of the paddle and sinks into the water, swimming the rest of the distance to the dinghy. “Sorry. Was just hot and I was pissed off.”

“And wanted to drown yourself?” Louis asks, leaning down to grab hold of Harry’s t-shirt. “I’m gonna count to three, and you kick like you’re swimming hard.”

Harry nods, and Louis hooks his hands underneath both of Harry’s arms and, on the count of three, when Harry kicks his feet, Louis hauls him out of the water. He pulls Harry over the side and into the inflatable boat, rolling out of the way just in time, so that Harry lands beside him and not on top of him.

“Holy shit,” Harry says, panting. “Sorry.”

“What the fuck?” Louis repeats, leaning over the side, cupping water in his hands, and splashing it on his face.

“I wanted to go swimming,” Harry explains.

“So you jumped overboard?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Clearly,” Louis says, sticking his paddle back in the water. “Let’s get back to the boat.”

Rather than try to explain further, Harry saves his energy for paddling. It probably wouldn’t make sense if he said it outloud anyway. The tide is rising as they paddle back, so the current carries them, making the trip easier than the first half. Still, when they reach the boat, and Louis grabs hold of the rope, Harry thinks he might not be able to climb the ladder, his arms are worn out. But Louis climbs up first, and his ass makes it easy for Harry to follow.

“Now what?” Harry asks, flopping onto the bench as soon as he steps off the ladder. “Wait and hope someone finds us?”

Louis sits across from him, frowning. He takes off his hat and sunglasses, rubbing his eyes and combing his fingers through his messy, sweat damp hair. “I don’t know. I thought we’d see more than… I thought we’d see like, hotels or another boat or something.”

“Me too,” Harry says. Though they couldn’t really see much when they looked south. “Do you think we drifted north or south or like… out to sea?”

“North, man. The current flows north, and once we drifted out of the inlet, we would’ve just gone with it.”

“I’m hungry,” Harry says, patting his empty stomach. “Time is it?”

“No clue, man. Sometime in the afternoon,” Louis says, pointing to the sun. He stands and waves for Harry to follow. “Come on. We should eat.”

Louis pulls everything out of the little refrigerator and freezer, and while he decides what needs to go, Harry makes them sandwiches. There’s more food than they’ll need, and once Harry’s stomach is full, he’s able to think a little more clearly.

“So, we wait,” Harry says.

“I’m not paddling anywhere anytime soon,” Louis responds, squeezing his shoulder and shaking out his arms.

“I don’t want to paddle anywhere ever again. Are you sure you can’t sail the boat?”

“I can sail the boat. I choose not to,” Louis says, climbing out onto the deck.

“What?”

“I know a little bit,” Louis says when Harry follows.

Not knowing anything at all about sailing, Harry figures it can’t be that hard. He climbs up on the bench and steps up on top of the boat, carefully walking to the mast and looking at the rolled up sail. “A little bit,” Harry says.

“My boss taught me some, but it makes me nervous, so I don’t do it.”

“It makes you nervous, so you don’t do it?” Harry asks, not quite believing him. “But you could, technically, sail us out of here, and like, just follow the coast until we get back home.”

“That or we could capsize and drown,” Louis says.

“We have life jackets. We won’t drown.”

“Who’s coming to rescue us then?”

Harry shrugs. “All I’m saying is I don’t want to be stuck here any longer than I have to.”

“In a hurry to self-isolate in your apartment?” Louis asks.

“Ugh. I forgot about the plague.”

“Stop calling it that. The plague is a real thing.”

“Whatever. Just because you want to be all alone on a boat doesn’t mean I do.”

“Well, hopefully Niall will pull through, then.” Louis looks up at him and when Harry slaps his hand against the rolled up sail, Louis shakes his head and disappears back below deck. The door to his cabin is closed when Harry follows him to try to continue the conversation, and despite the fact that he can obviously hear Harry, Louis doesn’t respond to anything he says. Eventually, he gives up and goes back up top. They were out in the sun for so long, but his skin isn’t pink at all, so Harry takes off his shirt and rolls up his shorts, laying on the cushioned bench and falling asleep in the late afternoon.

He wakes up stiff and sore and still tired, blinking up at Louis, who’s standing over him, surrounded by pink and purple light.

“Ooh, pretty,” Harry says, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. The sun is setting behind the trees and he’s awake just in time to watch it.

Louis sits beside him, resting his arms on the back of the bench. “Forty-eight hours.”

“Huh?”

“I want to wait until it’s been forty-eight hours. Give them a chance to find us,” Louis says, scratching at his beard. He turns slightly, dropping his hands into his lap. “Not tomorrow, but the next morning. If we haven’t been rescued, I’ll try to sail south.”

“Okay, but no capsizing,” Harry says.

Louis stills, shaking his head. “Have to wait and see.”

———

They are not rescued the following day. And they don’t talk about it. After breakfast, they paddle to the nearest beach and sing “Mr Brightside” at the top of their lungs while tromping through the trees in opposite directions. While Harry is using his paddle to push aside vines and brush on the way back to the beach, he sees something slithering past him in his peripheral vision. He screams, crashing through the trees and doesn’t stop until he’s waist deep in the water.

From the shore beside the boat, Louis watches him curiously. “What’d you see?”

“Snake, I think!” Harry shivers and wraps his arms around himself.

“Thought it might’ve been a bear,” Louis says, pushing the boat into the water and hopping on board. “This close to the water, it was probably an alligator or a water moccasin.”

Harry throws himself forward in the water, swimming as fast as he can towards the sound of Louis’ loud cackle. He’s able to push off of the sand and pull himself into the dinghy, though he lands even less gracefully than he did the day before when Louis hauled him out of the ocean.

“Jesus, fuck. That scared the shit out of me,” Harry says, clambering to sit up.

“Really?” Louis smirks, passing Harry’s paddle to him.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Poop jokes.”

“Timely poop jokes,” Louis says. “Paddle harder or the snake’ll catch us!”

Harry paddles harder, ignoring Louis’ laughter behind him. “I don’t care if you’re kidding. That was scary.”

“That’s why you have the paddle and your beautiful singing voice,” Louis says.

“Bear and snake protection?” Harry scowls at Louis over his shoulder.

“Better than nothing.”

The next morning, when they still have not been rescued, Harry sings so loudly that Louis laughs instead of singing along with him. He bangs his paddle against the trees, and doesn’t see any animals, but Louis manages to scare him anyway once he’s back in the boat and thinks he’s safe. They’re just getting out of the shallows, when Louis smacks his paddle on the surface of the water and yells, “Snake!”

Harry tries his hardest to give him the silent treatment, but Louis seems to enjoy it, humming to himself, and singing quietly while he moves around the boat. And he doesn’t know what he expected the process of getting ready to sail the boat to be like, but it happens much faster than he would’ve thought. There are a lot of ropes, and more than one sail, and many other things that Harry doesn’t know the name or the purpose of, but eventually Louis tells him to raise the anchor. And then he has to show him how to do it.

The wind catches the sail, and whether or not he knows what he’s doing, Louis smoothly maneuvers them out onto the ocean heading south. It seems easiest to stay out of his way, so Harry does, and water flies past beneath them. They aren’t sailing long before Harry sees his first dolphin. It breaches the surface, swimming alongside the boat and playing in the wake.

“Where the hell are we?” Harry asks the dolphin.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Louis says.

“I was talking to the dolphin.”

“Ooh!” Louis looks over that side of the boat, and says, “Oh, wow…”

Grinning, Harry looks again to find at least six or seven of them playing behind the boat. “So cool. I wonder how long they’ll stay with us.”

Louis shrugs, tightening some rope that Harry would ask the name of, but he doesn’t really care. The wind picks up as they move south, and Harry makes himself wait until he’s absolutely sure they’ve been going the same direction for at least an hour before saying something.

“When do you think we’ll get there?” Harry asks, kicking his bare feet up onto the metal railing behind the bench and laying down.

“Where?” Louis asks, frowning at him and sweeping his arm around in a half-circle. “We’re traveling at about five knots. I figure we’ve gone maybe ten or twelve miles.”

“Oh my god, why’s it so slow?” Harry whines, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“It’s a small sailboat, Harry. Top speed is like, seven knots.”

“What does that mean?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis says, “Not fast enough for you, guaranteed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Craning his neck, Harry scowls at him until he answers.

“Means you’re a spoiled brat,” Louis snaps.

“Fuck you too.”

“I really, really don’t think so.”

“Lame,” Harry retorts. “And boring.”

Louis hums, ignoring him. When Harry opens his mouth to ask again because there’s still no sign of another boat or anything, Louis excitedly says, “Oh! You know what we didn’t try?”

“What?” Harry sits up, ready to do whatever it is.

“You should ask your mom to come get you.”

“Clever,” Harry says, crossing his arms and leaning back to look up at the sky.

They don’t speak to each other until Louis says, “Come hold us steady for a second.”

“No, no, no.” Harry shakes his head and his finger, just to be sure Louis understands he wants nothing to do with the actual operation of the boat.

“Fine. Guess I can piss right here,” Louis says, looking pointedly at Harry, who’s sitting fairly close to him. “You’re into watersports, right?”

Harry stares at him, cheeks heating. Belatedly, he rushes out, “No!”

While Louis snickers, Harry takes the WTFWHEEL and does his best to keep it from spinning out of his hand. As soon as Louis finishes, Harry pees off the back of the boat too.

“Is the wind picking up?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Do me a favor?”

Narrowing his eyes, Harry says, “Depends.”

“Go below and, in the little cabinet under the bench, is a pair of binoculars.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry agreed, carefully climbing down the few steps. Right where Louis said they would be, Harry finds them, along with a box of books full of maps that he leaves alone. He climbs back on deck and, instead of handing the binoculars to Louis, he holds them to his eyes and adjusts the focus. “How far do these things see?”

“As far as your eyes do,” Louis answers shortly.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“You should be able to see something about fifteen miles away like it’s right in front of you,” Louis says, reaching a hand out for the binoculars, but Harry doesn’t give them to him.

“I can’t see shit.”

“Take the lens caps off.”

“I did. I mean, all I see is water and trees and some clouds.”

“Give them to me,” Louis insists, and Harry does, rolling his eyes as he sits back down on the bench. With his sunglasses perched on top of his head, Louis holds the binoculars to his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“Right? So weird,” Harry says, taking the binoculars back and looking again. The clouds ahead are much darker than the few wisps of white they’ve seen so far. “What do we do?”

Louis shrugs. “All we can do is keep going south. Eventually we’ll get home.”

“Yeah, but what if we don’t?”

“What?”

“Like, what if this is some parallel universe,” Harry offers, letting his mind wander. “Like an unpopulated world.”

Snorting loudly, Louis shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Harry.”

“Do you think we should be sailing towards those clouds?”

“I… Should we find a place to anchor? Not like we can check the weather, but the last time I looked, the forecast said the past few days were supposed to be cold and cloudy, not warm and sunny, and there weren’t any storms expected.”

“Dunno. Those look like storm clouds to me,” Harry says, pointing at them. “We could stop here. Maybe it’s going inland, and we can wait for it to pass.”

“Storms usually travel up the coast. We could go west. See if we can go around it. Or go north. Try to find a place to dock that way.”

“Go back the way we came?” Harry pouts.

“I don't know, Harry! Would you rather go towards the dark, and what are, frankly, ominous clouds? You’re supposed to tie the fucking boat up during a storm, but I don’t see any docks. Do you?”

“Shit. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Harry gets to his feet, looking south through the binoculars and slowly turning east. The clouds—Louis is right, they are ominous looking—seem to go on forever. There’s no going around them. “What’s north of us?”

“No fucking clue, man.” Louis loosens the sail, and goes below deck, returning before Harry can follow with the box of books and maps. He hands the box to Harry, and folds a map out on the table, pointing to the familiar curve of the coast. “Yeah. See? You swam to the boat here. And the only natural areas around are the few state parks, but even there they have buildings and shit. Like, you can tell people have been there. We’ve traveled for hours, probably close to twenty miles.”

“Wow,” Harry says, maybe he’s dreaming.

While Louis turns the boat around, Harry sits, flipping through an old book of maps, full of expired coupons for restaurants and attractions. On one page, there’s a large picture of a cartoon owl that says ‘Give A Hoot! Don’t Pollute!’ And Harry frowns.

“Have you seen any litter?” Harry asks, putting the book back in the box.

Louis looks over the side of the boat, as if fully expecting to see a plastic bottle floating by. Slowly, he says, “No.”

“You know what?” Harry snaps his fingers, and says, “I bet I knocked myself out when I hit my head and this is just a dream or a hallucination or something.”

“Yeah? What about me?” Louis rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder at the clouds behind them.

Harry shrugs. “What about you?”

“Why am I in your hallucination? I’d rather not be, so you could just hallucinate me out?”

“I can try,” Harry says, closing his eyes in concentration. While he’s at it, he pictures himself waking up, but neither thing has happened by the time he opens his eyes again. “Maybe if I go to sleep.”

“You do that. Because I might need your help in a little while, and I’d rather you get some rest.” Louis shoos him towards the doors and Harry goes below, curling up on his bed and falling asleep fast.

————

“Up! Wake up, Harry!”

Harry sits up, rubbing his eyes and slowly realizing he’s still on the boat. “Still hallucinating.”

“Nope! Get up here and help me figure out what to do,” Louis orders, stepping up on deck before he finishes talking.

And while it does still feel like it must be a dream or a hallucination, it feels real too. Harry joins Louis up top, looking south, frowning at the clouds in the distance. “Are they closer?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Go faster,” Harry says.

“I can’t go any faster.” Louis hands him the binoculars and says, “We can either keep following the coast and hope the storm turns west. We can find a place to anchor, tie the boat up as well as we can, and ride it out below deck. Or we could head east, out to sea.”

“This is like one of those choose your own adventure books,” Harry says, looking back at the storm.

“I think our best bet is to keep going for now, and be on the lookout for a safe place to spend the storm.”

“Then why didn’t you just do that?”

“Because I didn’t want to just make the decision without talking to you. And I’ll need your help, no matter what we do.”

Harry scoffs, crossing his arms and cocking his hip to the side. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Depends. If we keep going? Use the binoculars to scout ahead for an inlet or somewhere we can tie up the boat,” Louis says, pointing to the binoculars in Harry’s hand. “What do you want to do?”

“Keep going. Obviously,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “We’re more likely to find a dock or something, right?”

“Sure,” Louis replies, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe they’ll find anything.

Harry ignores him, looking through the binoculars at the coast, searching for someplace to park. Or whatever. They sail for a few hours, finding a few places that look promising until they get close and they don’t seem deep enough for the boat.

“This sucks,” Harry says, dropping onto the bench. “We’re about to get rained on.”

“We’re about to get caught in a fucking hurricane,” Louis snaps, tightening one of the ropes.

“Are you serious?” Harry turns to look back at the storm. It just looks like a mass of dark grey clouds, but there are sheets of rain visible now.

“I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s fucking huge. We have to find a place to hunker down.”

Sputtering a laugh, Harry says, “Hunker down.”

Louis stares at him for a moment, then snatches the binoculars from him, looking ahead between doing whatever else he does to the sails and the steering wheel. It probably has an official nautical name, but Harry doesn’t care enough to ask. Instead, he goes below, crawling into bed again.

#we're on boat au #unfinished wip #genieloveslarry #snippet

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msmischief101 · 1 year

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Find the word

Thanks for the tag, @raksh-writes 💖

So, I assume I'm going through my WIPs and see if I can find the words you chose? Either way, that's how I'll do it 😂

I got the words: satisfied, curve, freedom, memory, warm.

Satisfied

“I thought you’d be happier to get out.” “It’s not a fucking prison.” Stiles hates how satisfied he is about seeing Theo wince. Still, he deserves it. He deserves worse, to be honest. “I’m surprised you came to pick me up seeing how little I’ve heard from you in there.” Theo licks his lips, staring out of the windshield. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna talk,” Stiles snaps, curling his fists into his backpack. “Just start the fucking car.”

It's from a WIP I haven't touched in at least a year. I only remember that it's full of hurt (and only a little comfort).

Curve

Apparently, I do not have this word in any of my WIPs 😂

Freedom

After everything they’ve been through, after everything Theo told him, they told each other, Stiles really thought they had a different kind of relationship. A stronger one. He really believed Theo trusted him, maybe even— no. Stiles has been pondering this for years. He’s not going to waste his first thought in his newfound freedom on Theo. He’s getting out, and then he’s going home, grab a few things before leaving this fucking place behind.

Hey, look... another Steo fic I haven't touched in forever. This is going swimmingly.

Memory

Stiles raises his hands, glancing back and forth between the two werewolves facing him. “It’s me,” he says as he ducks his head, “Scott, I swear, it’s me.” He should’ve chosen better words because the last time they tumbled out of his mouth, he wasn’t the one saying them. Then again, perhaps the memory of the nogitsune will help convince Scott that he’s telling the truth. Stiles hopes it does because the other options aren’t exactly going to convince anyone he’s one of the good guys.

Okay, this is a very recent one. It's for BTHB - Power Fatigue. It's a 6b AU. It's Steo as well.

Warm

It’s so subtle, Stiles never would have noticed it. Drawing his eyebrows together, he shuffles closer and leans forward. The position is a little awkward, but Stiles doesn’t want to risk stepping on anything. He reaches the small dent anyway and presses his hand against the surprisingly warm statue. For a few agonising seconds, nothing happens, giving a chance for his anxiety to spike up again. This could still be a fucking prank, or maybe he did go insane after his sacrifice broke him. But then something stings his index finger. More surprised than actually hurt, Stiles yanks his hand back and stumbles backwards. Almost as if expecting this, Morrell places a hand on his back to steady him.

Another recent one. After the whole sacrifice in 3a, Stiles goes to a school for supernatural creatures, so he'll learn how to control his powers. There he meets Theo, but Theo has plans. Eventually shit hits the fan... as it usually does.

The words I'm choosing are: night, cover, reckless, hopeful, teeth

I'm tagging: @mercheswan @sunel0 @voidstilesplease @amatchinwater (I know you've been tagged already, so... feel free to ignore it!), @jimmy12427, @sapphireginger, @realityescapee01, and everyone else who is interested in doing this! As always, no pressure. 🥰

#steo #tagging game

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liminalmemories21 · 1 year

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WIP Amnesty (part 1)

I just spent a frustrating hour not mailing the thing I was trying to mail, so WIP amnesty, because these are things I wrote, and liked, but are not actually going anywhere, and they’ve been sitting in my draft file for long enough that anything I’m going to cannibalize from them has been cannibalized already. I liked the idea enough that i wrote it two different ways, and both of them descended into a mire of things of which I do not know and should not speak. But, Part 1 is funny and was originally supposed to be part of a ‘5 times they got caught without their shirts on’ because really there should be more shirtlessness. Was also part of the period where I was exorcising my demons about the lack of follow through on Carlos and his parents and how the show just decided that not talking about something for 10 years would absolutely be easily solved with one dinner.

She rings the doorbell a second time, and then a third and fourth time. She's about to ring a fifth time when Carlos yanks the door open with an irritated expression. She takes in his messy hair, bare chest, and pajama pants, and glances at her watch, "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be asleep already."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't asleep."

She hears water running upstairs and raises her eyebrows, flushing slightly, "oh? Oh! I am so sorry." Pushes past him into the living room anyway, leaving him to close the door behind her.

"Janessa?" His irritation fades into concern.

She drops her bag onto the couch, and then turns when she hears a noise on the stairs, watches as a stupidly pretty man comes down, he's marginally more dressed than Carlos is, and he's holding out a shirt to him, "I thought you might like a shirt, since apparently you have company?"

Carlos takes the shirt gratefully, and his voice is a little muffled as he says, "This is my cousin, Janessa." Waits until he's pulled the shirt over his head to wave in the man's direction, "Janessa, this is TK, my boyfriend." She doesn't think she's imagining the curl of pleasure in his voice as he says that, and it breaks something open inside her.

She holds out her hand automatically, "Nice to meet you." Swings back to look at Carlos, "Wait, is this the guy?"

Carlos gives her a flat stare, "I really want to say no, just to see how you talk yourself out of that corner, but yes, this is the guy." She glances back at TK who looks entirely too amused.

He grins and says, "Be nice, babe, I'm betting your cousin didn't come over at nine on a Tuesday night just to give you a hard time."

Carlos sounds exasperated when he says, "You're only saying that because you've never met her before," but his expression is nothing but fond. He turns back to her, "So, what is so important you had to blow up my doorbell?"

And abruptly the sense of calm she'd felt teasing Carlos vanishes, and she sits down hard on the couch, "Peter got outed at school today."

It brings both of them into the living room, "Shit," Carlos says succinctly.

She looks up at TK and starts to explain, "Peter is my,"

He cuts her off gently, "Your step-son, I know." She raises an eyebrow, and he shrugs, "Carlos talks about y'all a lot." Carlos shoots TK an amused look and mouths 'y'all?' at him. TK ignores him, although he smiles, "Is he okay?"

She shrugs helplessly, "Not really. When I left he was holed up in his room playing depressing music, but he wasn't crying anymore. So, progress?" She looks at them both a little desperately, "What do I say to him tomorrow? What did your parents say to you?"

TK gives Carlos a look she can't decipher, and finally Carlos shrugs, "Janessa and Robert are more like your parents than mine."

#tarlos #wip-amnesty #unfinished #fic #look you can't solve 10 years of anything over one dinner #this is literally the reason I started writing fic for this show

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buckyismybicycle · 2 years

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CHAPTER 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers Rating: Explicit (later) Tags/Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, Body Image Issues, References to Depression/Anxiety/Eating Disorders/Alcohol Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Powers/Hockey, Team Bonding, Slow Burn (sexy tags include Service Top Bucky Barnes, Hair-pulling and who knows what else) Summary: Boston Bruins trade notorious party animal/human disaster Bucky Barnes to the Dallas Stars, and captain Steve Rogers is not impressed when Fury puts him on babysitting duties. But, as he gets to know Bucky - really gets to know Bucky - he wonders if maybe the media has got it all wrong - very, very wrong. [Read on AO3 here] A/N: I’ve been posting this to AO3 but honestly it’s beloved so it’s coming here too. This is the second of my two fics for WIP Big Bang, so updates will be heavy until September 22, 2022! My lovely artist, kingstoken made me cover art, which can be seen below the cut and in my masterlist!

Steve

When Steve hears that they’ve traded for James “Bucky” Barnes, he can’t believe it’s true. He has to bite back the spike of frustration towards management — so instead of calling Fury, he calls his James – Rhodey – instead, telling him how garbage the move is.

“It’s all good, Cap,” Rhodey chuckles all too cheerfully. “I only got a year left on my contract and the wife’s been buggin’ me. I didn’t think I was going to get much longer anyway.”

“Aw, come on Rhodes, that’s horse shit. Your age ain’t ever held you back.”

“Well it sure as shit makes things harder, don’t it?” Rhodey fires back. “Look… Wife’s expecting again.”

“Shit,” Steve blurts out before he saves himself. “Congrats man, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah! Yeah, it is. She’s just a few weeks so we haven’t told anyone. Anyway, I want to experience it this time. Not always on the road… I’ve got a fair share of diapers to change to catch up.”

“You’re retiring,” Steve states blankly.

“Yeah, I’m probably gonna make it my last year,” Rhodey confirms.

It’s a lot for Steve, to hear that not only is he losing his alternate captain to another team, but that he’ll soon be out of the sport entirely.

“I’m happy for you,” Steve settles on, trying to summon the enthusiasm for his friend. It’s the truth; he is happy for Rhodey, it’s just not the life he ever saw for himself. He loves the sport too much to leave it. “We should get together before you go.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

The phone call had put him in an even worse mood.

—

When he gets a call two hours later from the GM, he picks it up with gritted teeth.

“This is Rogers.”

“I know you’ve heard the news.”

“I have.”

“Good,” Fury says with a breeze, either not sensing or simply not caring about Steve’s inner turmoil. “Then you know I have a special assignment for you.”

“Are you serious?” Steve doesn’t bother to try and hide the disdain.

“He needs a role model, Rogers.”

“He needs his parents,” Steve retorts.

“Yeah, we’ll he doesn’t have any, so, you’re going to have to do. I’m not asking.”

That’s the kind of finality that makes Steve take a breath. He’s a professional, he’s a team captain, he can handle a rowdy kid.

“Right.”

“We’re putting him up in the same building, he’s 514. His flight lands this weekend. I’ll send you the details. Just show him the ropes, move the kid in, and make sure he gets his ass to the intro meeting on Monday morning.”

“Right,” he repeats.

—

He spends the next two days cleaning and re-cleaning even though his apartment is pretty tidy already, a perk of living alone. He doesn’t even know why he does it, it’s not like he needs to show off to some wild child that he’s babysitting.

James B. Barnes was notorious for his partying — hell, it’s probably why he’s being booted out of Boston. Steve remembers a tiny feeling of resentment when Bucky had been drafted first overall to Boston Bruins, Steve’s hometown.

And while Steve played for Dallas, a part of him will always be the ten-year-old scrawny kid in his Boston Bruins bedsheets, with posters of Bobby Orr and Raymond Bourque on his walls and the Stanley Cup in his dreams.

So yes, he had been bitter about not winning the cup, like he is every year. But he had watched Boston go on, living the playoffs through them vicariously. He had watched the team push into the finals, and battle it out, keeping an eye on all the players. Barnes was good — fast, and a hard shot to boot, even as he danced around the ice. His skating was beautiful, and Steve would never admit it, but he envied it.

And then they won the Stanley cup, and Steve watched a baby-faced, nineteen-year-old Barnes lift the Stanley Cup in his fucking rookie year.

Then, he had watched Barnes absolutely tank his second year in Boston. How the internet blew up with pictures of Barnes dancing on table tops shirtless, his smile drunk and dopey and headlines that read “out of control”. After that, all Steve could think about was what an idiot this kid was, drinking his opportunity away when he’d only just gotten into the league. A dream for most, and he was throwing it away.

Seriously, why is he cleaning his place?

He stops himself, forces himself to send a captain-ly message to the phone number attached to introduce him and welcome him to the team. It sounds like a cookie cutter message even to him, but then again, so is the reply.

“Thanks, looking forward to meeting you and the rest of the team.”

—

True to his word, he reads the email that’s forwarded to him with Barnes’ itinerary. The greeting email he’s copied on from management, though? That one, Steve skips. He’s not in the mood to read the fake, sugary welcome.

On Saturday morning, he hops in his truck, and leaves for the airport, fifteen minutes early, in a simple pair of jeans and a light grey shirt to combat the Dallas heat. The windows are rolled down, the radio playing softly, and when it’s time for the flight to land, he hops out of the truck and leans against it to wait.

He sends a message to the number he was given, with a description of his truck and what he’s wearing. It’s another twenty minutes of Steve dicking around on his phone until a tall brunette, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, walks towards him with a duffel bag.

Steve has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the obnoxious display incoming – black skinny jeans and a shirt that’s too tight on top of the cap and sunglasses? Yeah, Steve can already tell he’s not going to like this kid.

Bucky

It’s a new start for him, that’s what Bucky keeps telling himself because it’s all he can do to make it feel better, make it feel less like rejection. Less like he’s being thrown out like last week's trash. It hurts — it cuts deep in a way that he never expected, the words burrowing into his heart and making its rotten nest there.

“You’re going to Dallas.”

He understands that it’s hockey, that trades will happen and it feels like only 1% of the entire league will stay playing for the same team their whole careers, but he hadn’t expected to be picked first overall, to win the Stanley Cup in his first year, and have it mean nothing. Every drill he’s ever run and every 5am workout seem like a slap in the face now. Why had he so desperately pushed himself to be the perfect star, if they were just going to give him away? And that’s the thing – they traded him for James Rhodey, who’s near the end of his career, and 4th round pick, which means shit all.

Because that’s what Bucky’s worth. Shit all.

He’s staring at the suitcase that he’s packing, sees the white, black and yellow jersey that he had kept as a momento and he simultaneously wants to cry and set it on fire.

Pierce comes in then, it’s just the two of them since his wife is at work, and gives him a look, one that screams disappointment. Bucky can feel his eyes sting.

“We’ll have to get you to the airport first thing in the morning,” Pierce says. “So make sure you don’t leave anything.”

Maybe it’s meant in a way to gently remind Bucky not to forget anything he needs, but what Bucky hears is “don’t leave a single trace of you in my house.”

He nods.

“I’m sorry, James, but it was merely business.”

Bucky didn’t expect any favouritism, of course, but he had hoped that his billet family would have considered him more than just another player. But Pierce, who had been his coach, his father-figure, his keeper, didn’t even look back. Bucky packs up the last few things that were his and closes the suitcase, laying back down on the bed that he would sleep in for the last time.

The thing about airports is that there’s always an ocean of people — something that Bucky is still nervous about. He doesn’t mind flying with the team for away games, he doesn’t mind flying with his friends, but now he’s on a commercial flight all by himself, after his face has been plastered on every sports magazine and online article possible. He is very much aware that he had been trending on Twitter, even though he was instructed by PR not to look at anything. But Bucky’s curious by nature, how could he not look?

He hadn’t gotten out of bed at all that day.

Bucky shoves a baseball cap on, low and right over his eyes, even though he put sunglasses on as an extra safety measure. Hoping that his clothes were pretty nondescript, he spent the whole flight with his head down and his headphones in, praying that the next few hours pass without any recognition.

At least the flight is smooth, with no delays, and he finds himself looking out the window at a whole lot of land. He’s played Dallas and watched their footage at practice, so he knows they’re a decent team, they just don’t have the same energy as the Bruins. The welcome text he had received from the captain seemed pretty standard, so he had replied in kind because he was raised with manners, and now the same phone number texted him again.

“I’ll be waiting with a blue Ford truck. F150. Jeans and a grey T-shirt.”

As if Bucky wouldn’t remember what the captain of the Dallas stars looked like, the goddamn brickhouse that he is, with a wicked slapshot and baby blue eyes.

There weren’t a lot of people on the flight, which tells Bucky a whole lot about Dallas as a vacation spot, so he’s able to get through bag check quickly. He regrets the hoodie, because even inside the airport – with air-conditioning – he can already tell that it’ll be a hot mess outside. Tying the hoodie around his waist instead, he follows the signs with his duffle slung over his shoulder and his suitcase rolling behind him, trying to find salvation.

When he does get outside, he’s thankful for his thin white shirt because it is balls hot. He doesn’t even need to scan for that long before he finds a giant pick up truck with a giant man leaning against it.

Something about the way that Steve Rogers stands commands a certain respect. It reminds Bucky of Rumlow, who stands at 6’1” with his arms crossed at all times and a stance that suggests you were in trouble. So even though Steve is leaning against his truck, it’s almost like Bucky is about to get scolded already. Steve looks up at him as he approaches and Bucky can’t read his face, but it looks annoyed. Hell, Bucky supposes he’d be annoyed too if his Saturday morning was spent picking up baggage. The anxiety makes Bucky heat up even worse than the Texas sun.

“Hi, Steve,” Bucky greets as best he can, keeping the tremor out of his voice and offering his hand.

“James.” Steve takes the other hand with a firm grip. “If nothing’s going to melt in there, feel free to throw them in the back.”

Steve

James nods, then chucks his duffle into the bed of the truck with a little effort and then picks up his suitcase and does the same. Steve looks away from where the white shirt has risen up, because he doesn’t need to know that James Barnes wears Calvin Klein and can’t afford to get distracted by the beautiful, intricate lines of his tattoo running up Bucky’s arm.

Steve doesn’t say all the things in his head like “do you know how hard some people have to work to be here” or “you’re wasting your talent” because he’s not even that much older than James, and also: it’s none of his damn business. When James hops in the car, he closes the door surprisingly gently, which earns some points from Steve, he supposes. Even with both their windows rolled down, Steve can make out some sort of rich cologne underneath a fresh spring smell and it… It‘s nice. James takes his sunglasses off and Steve’s caught off guard for a moment when the most brilliant sapphire eyes turn to look at him.

“Thanks again for this,” James says. His voice is softer than Steve remembers.

“S’not a problem,” Steve replies cordially, looking over. The moment their eyes meet, James turns to look out the front and something doesn’t sit quite right in Steve. James is — because Steve had done his research immediately — 6’1” and 200 pounds. It’s only an inch shorter and fifteen pounds less than Steve, but at their height it's a nearly indiscernible difference, and yet James looks small. His head practically rests on his chest, looking down at his hands, which are empty, but fidgety. The lines in his shoulders are tense, since they’re up to his damn ears which makes Steve take a step back in his head.

And immediately makes him feel like a dick.

James had just packed up his life and moved a good six hours a way with no friends and no family. Steve remembers that feeling, of starting in a new place. Granted, he didn’t have any family and had stayed with the owner of the team, Tony Stark, who spared no expense. James had just won a Stanley Cup and then been traded. And Twitter (and SportsNet and TSN and Instagram and —) had put him through the wringer.

The more Steve thinks about all the things that he’s sure makes James hunch in on himself, the guiltier he feels. He clears his throat.

“You hungry?”

James’ head snaps to him, like he’d been lost in thought, and opens his mouth to speak. It takes a moment, as if he were trying to think of the words carefully.

“Um, I was planning on exploring, after, maybe,” he fumbles anyway.

“There’s a great diner on the way,” Steve offers, watching James weigh his options. After a beat, he adds, “I could use it too.”

“If you’re sure,” James replies, like he’s still not convinced what the right answer is.

“I’m sure.” At that, he watches James’ shoulders drop, just a fraction, and maybe, just maybe, his face loses some of its tension too. Steve’s distracted by the way the soft strands of James’ hair whip around him as they drive, when he leans on his elbow, resting half outside the window.

And the road. He’s obviously watching the road.

Bucky

When Steve pulls into the diner, the sign is a neon red and reads “Maximumoff Effort” with a soft glow of fluorescent lighting. There’s other cars in the parking lots – mostly trucks and a shiny blood red Jeep Wrangler that Bucky admires. The outside looks quirky, with a deer head hanging over the door and the wooden exterior reminds Bucky of a cabin.

He can smell the food before they even enter the doors – like fried goodness and an artery clog. Still, he follows Steve diligently into the restaurant and the inside is, for lack of a better word, whacky. Honestly, Bucky kind of falls in love. The diner’s filled with red seats and silver barstools, and there’s more of that neon lighting inside, such as a huge “BAR” sign with an arrow pointing to the back in a matching red as the sign outside. There’s one for “DINING” and “WELCOME”, some exit signs and one that simply says “JACKASS”. Bucky likes the Jackass one a lot, because it’s green and white, the Dallas Stars colours, and it’s hanging over a jukebox. There is a jukebox.

Aside from that, the restaurant is actually dimly lit, and there are people seated all over the place. A man, who has his back turned to Bucky, mans the bar and he can spot a woman with long, red hair bustling from table to table.

Bucky takes a look at all the decorations, misplaced but artfully so, rugged and homey in a kick your shoes off anywhere sort of way. It’s already so different from Boston, and Bucky doesn’t want to jinx himself, but he already likes it here. Steve nods at the redheaded waitress, and goes to take a seat at a booth, closer to the back, and Bucky follows his lead. It seems like Steve comes here frequently enough, especially when a server comes by with a “the usual?”

“Actually, I think I might take a look at the menu today,” Steve responds, clearly surprising the server. His name tag says Pietro, and his light hair is tousled atop his head, his facial hair trimmed.

“Well, well, aren’t we full of surprises!” Pietro dutifully grabs them two menus, and asks if they want to start with something to drink. So it’s water to start, and Bucky finally opens his menu. They’ve hit lunch time so the lighter breakfast options are off the table, much to his dismay. The burgers though – the burgers look amazing, and he knows that’s what he can smell in the air, and shit, it’s been so long since he’s had a burger. He’s practically salivating at the thought, what is wrong with him?

He forcibly tears his eyes away to the salads and other entrees, but every few lines, his eyes jump back to the Stars Burger. It’s funny, and even if their hockey team wasn’t the Dallas Stars, Bucky would still be drawn to it, because barbecue sauce on a double patty? It sounds like heaven.

“See anything?” Steve asks, interrupting Bucky’s internal dilemma.

“Um –” Bucky pauses, because he doesn’t want to make a bad impression in front of his new captain. “Uh, everything kinda looks good?”

“Hm.”

Bucky squirms inside, because it’s a flat-sounding hum, and Bucky feels like he hadn’t given the right answer. “The, uh, the Stars Burger, they didn’t name that after you, did they?”

That, apparently, is a better answer because Steve throws his head back in a laugh. “No, otherwise it’d be the Rogers Burger.”

Oh, alright, so Rogers can joke now, huh?

The smile stays on Steve’s face when he continues, “but it is named after the team, yes. It’s actually my usual.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but before he can say anything, Steve closes his menu and says, “try it.”

Don’t tempt me.

“Er – I –” Bucky stops, then thinks about his past week. Had he had a cheat day? Not that he can recall… So maybe the burger wouldn’t be so bad? He looks up to Steve, who’s looking back expectantly. “Yeah, okay.”

Steve offers him a small smile, and a warm feeling of something akin to acceptance bubbles in his chest.

When Pietro comes back, Steve sheepishly orders. “The usual,” he admits, and Pietro rolls his eyes.

“How did I know we would come back to this, hm?” He hasn’t bothered to take his notepad out.

“Same for you?” Pietro asks Bucky, not realizing that Bucky has no idea what The Usual even entails.

“Ah, my usual is the burger with a side of fries and a vanilla milkshake.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky blurts out, the sheer amount of calories shocking the words out of his mouth. “Um, I mean – just the burger for me.”

“You sure? We got the best fries on this side of town,” Pietro waggles his eyebrows.

“It’s true,” Steve confirms. “Trust me.”

“Okay, the fries too, then,” Bucky caves, secretly thrilled. “But water’s fine, thanks.”

“Comin’ right up,” Pietro promises, and floats away to the other tables. Even though the restaurant is pretty full, the two of them don’t seem to need any help at all.

“That’s his sister, Wanda,” Steve explains, watching Bucky’s eyes. “The restaurant’s been in their family a while.”

Bucky nods, because it makes sense why they’re so comfortable. “It’s nice.”

“It’s a team favourite, you’ll be back a few times.”

It’s something in the way he says it, with a certainty — you will be back, not you might be back. The smallest grain of something settles in Bucky.

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he says, smiling genuinely for the first time since he landed in this sweltering place.

Series Masterpost | Overall Masterpost | Next Chapter >>

💕Stucky Tag List: @moonlightreader649 @moviequeen51 @ohtobehappy @fluffyunicorn-96 @goldylions @angryknightstatesmantrash @rookthorne @buckybarnesau

#stevebucky fanfiction #steve/bucky #stevebucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #stucky hockey

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jessikahathaway · 3 years

Text

Baby Talk - Part I

Hellooooo!

I've had this in my WIPs for a while and I wanted to get some of it out so that you all could enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if you want more??? Tag lists are open for all of my ongoing fics so if you want to be added just let me know!

Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Medical Procedures, Assault (not descriptive), Profanity. If I forgot anything please let me know!

Words: 11.3k (Phew chill Jess~)

This wasn’t a big deal, you thought to yourself as you signed the paperwork in the clinic.

Just, you know, getting artificially inseminated for money. Nothing weird about that right?

Becoming a surrogate wasn’t something you’d planned on in your life, mainly sticking to your job and working towards a better tomorrow or whatever they say.

You were young, healthy and full of life.

The only thing you lacked, was a full bank account.

The realization hit a little harder than you thought it would. Being a receptionist wasn’t exactly what you’d had planned for your life but, it was simple work and it made you happy.

Going to college wasn’t really ever an option for you anyways. Your parents had died in an accident when you were little, forcing you to go live with your Great Aunt until you turned eighteen. She hadn’t forced you out, but you did leave. Wanting the adventures that life had to offer.

However, you quickly realized that it wasn’t easy pickings out in the world. That’s when the notice came to the door of your apartment that you either paid your late rent in full by the date or you could get your ass out.

Fear trickled down your spine at the thought of being homeless. You briefly thought of going back to your Aunts but, she lived out in the country and the city is where you’d made your home. As much as you cared about her, it just wasn’t going to happen.

That’s when your friend Namjoon and his husband Jim invited you over for dinner.

You were beyond excited, because these two had just had their baby girl Annie.

They had used the local fertility clinic to get a surrogate and had their baby just a month prior. You had been dying to meet the little bundle ever since you heard the news they were having a baby.

God, that kid was going to be spoiled rotten.

Quickly, you had gone over and enjoyed a nice meal with the three of them. Annie still partaking in formula.

You had tried to make conversation, but your eyes kept wandering to Annie and her little hands and feet. You felt a slight clench in your chest at the sight of her round face and sweet eyes.

“Earth to Y/N? You doing alright?” Namjoon’s voice echoed through their lovely, luxe apartment.

“Y-Yeah! Fine, I’m fine,” you smiled.

“You sure?” Jin asked, getting up to take his and Namjoon’s plates to the kitchen.

“Mhmm,” you said, eyes glancing back over at the baby.

“You’re so whipped, Annie has claimed yet another victim,” Namjoon snickered, looking at the blissful gaze your eyes had taken.

“You ever want kids, Y/N?” Jin asked, coming back in with dessert for each of you.

“I guess so, I mean. Just gotta find someone to make the baby with,” you joked half heartedly.

It was no secret among your friends that you were the black sheep. Not dating, not even entertaining the notion of having a significant other. The idea was, honestly, draining.

“Don’t feel like you have to be married to have a kid, Y/N. Single parenthood is just as valid as a couple,” Jin reminded.

“I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to pop out a kid right now,” you sighed.

“No? I thought the job at the hotel was treating you well,” Namjoon said.

“Yes and no, they treat me well. But pay me next to shit... I-I gotta make some quick cash, or I’m gonna be homeless,” you whispered.

“What?!?” The two men shouted, looking at you with heartbreak in their eyes.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling! We could’ve done something!” Jin says, rubbing his face with frustration.

“No-No! It’s fine, I’ll figure it out! I always do,” you encouraged, trying to keep the fear out of your eyes.

“How far behind on rent are you?” Namjoon asked.

“A little under six grand,” you sighed.

“Y/N!” Your two friends looked distraught.

“I don’t understand how a society can function like this, I hate it,” Namjoon said, looking down at his dessert he no longer wanted.

Annie started fussing, kicking her feet and wanting attention.

Jin sighed and got up, taking his beautiful daughter with him. You and Namjoon sat in cold silence for a while. Neither of you willing to talk to the other.

You were too proud for your own good. Even if it meant crashing and burning, you’d do that before you took anyone’s pity.

“How can we help?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with so much worry.

“I really don’t know Joon, there’s no where that’ll give me that kinda money with my credit and... even if they did I couldn’t pay it back anyways,” you sighed.

“Have you thought about going to school for something? Maybe you can get a degree and, I don’t know I’m pulling at straws here,” he said.

“I can’t go to school Joon, with what money? And even worse, I wouldn’t know what to go into,” you said, swallowing down some more wine.

“I wish we could’ve had you surrogate for us. We paid that woman a small fortune. Had I known you were struggling I would, maybe you could’ve done it instead,” he said quietly.

“How much did you pay her?” You asked.

“Around $80,000,” he said, shrugging.

You choked.

“Damn you filthy rich kids,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s it!” Namjoon said.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at him in confusion and despair.

“You can’t be our surrogate, but you could be someone else’s!”

Your body ran cold at the thought.

“I-I don’t know if I could do that Joon,” you said.

“Doesn’t your family have a high chance of twins?” He said, looking at you with a smile.

“I mean, yes but-”

“Say no more. I know a couple that’s been dreaming of a baby. They actually were supposed to meet the woman who wound up being our surrogate. But she decided to go with us. Jimin and Jungkook, they’re really good people Y/N,” Namjoon said, smiling.

“Namjoon, I don’t know if I can have a stranger’s baby!”

“I mean I won’t force you to sign up or anything. But Jungkook and Jimin are really good guys who have been waiting forever to have a baby. They said they wanted twins but, most importantly they wanted a healthy child. How sweet is that!”

You worried your lower lip with your teeth. This was just ridiculous. There’s no way you’d be able to do it. No way.

“Let me show you a picture of them!” Namjoon said, pulling out his phone.

“Joon really-”

Although, before you could argue anymore, you saw their faces.

A smaller, blond man. Whose smile was brighter than any star. And a taller, lean brunette who looked at the camera with a goofy grin.

“Jimin is the blond, Jungkook is the brunette,” Namjoon explained.

“Okay?” You said, trying to calm your racing heart.

They were both handsome. Deathly so, it made your stomach clench in a weird way to look at them. You wondered what kind of babies they would make. If they had that smile Jimin was packing, no one would be safe. That child would get whatever it wanted.

“I’m just saying, it doesn't have to be them but they’ve wanted a baby for so long and... you could help them with that and get a lump sum of cash on the side. Bad a bing bad a boom! No worries!”

It wasn’t such a hard decision in the end.

You needed the money.

So walking into the clinic had this weird sense of finality to it.

The receptionist looked at you with a smile.

“Hello dear, how can I help you?” She said.

“I-uh, wanted to sign up to be a potential surrogate?” You said, wringing your hands together.

“Of course! Did you bring your medical records and things of the like?”

You nodded quickly, handing over the required paperwork. She clicked away on her keyboard and got you all signed up and ready to go. Soon, you were getting your preliminary check up to see if you were able to have children.

Although your period had some irregularities in the past, the doctor’s said it was probably due to stress and the balancing out of hormones. But it would all work out, you were healthy and fertile!

You managed to tell Namjoon that you signed up without him having a full blown heart attack.

“How long until you need to be out of the apartment?” He asked, sipping his coffee.

“I need to be out in three weeks,” you said softly.

“Well shit you’re kinda on a time crunch there sweets, but don’t worry, you can do it! I’ll let Jimin and Jungkook know that you signed up, they’ll want to meet you. I know it,” he said.

“Namjoon, it’s okay. I don’t care who I surrogate for, as long as it’s soon,” you said, trying to keep your heart rate under control.

“Okay, but Y/N, I’m telling you. They’d be the perfect fit for you!” He said.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The days to come would be challenging no doubt.

—

You were rather popular at the fertility clinic it seemed, because you’d had three meetings already.

One was a couple that had been trying for years and it just wasn’t happening so they were resorting to a different method. Although for this one they wanted to do an egg implantation. You weren’t sure you wanted to do that.

Another was an older couple who looked like they were just planning on having kids but their own clocks ran out.

But finally, you got one more call from the clinic.

“Miss Y/N, you’ve got another request for a meeting,” the receptionist on the other line said.

“Oh? With whom?” You asked.

“A Mr. Park Jimin and a Mr. Jeon Jungkook, they asked for you personally,” she said, tone light.

You almost spit out your drink.

Th-They had asked for you?

The fertility clinic was big, a huge database of surrogates and people willing to conceive for the right price.

But they had asked to meet you.

Personally.

“Miss Y/N? Still there?” The receptionist asked, sounding far away from you.

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” you said, coughing.

“Wonderful, they said if you were willing they’d like to treat you to a meal, of course I can’t give out your contact information without consent from you but if you’re willing to meet with them we can arrange this.”

You heard yourself agree before even thinking about it.

Soon, you were on your way to the higher end of town. Heading towards a good Korean Barbeque place that was notorious for having the best meat in town.

Walking in you looked around, noticing how luxurious the place was. It made you feel a little out of place to be honest. But, not letting that get to you the host came up and asked for your name.

“Miss Y/N, ah yes. You’re with the Jeon party, lovely. Come right this way,” he said, taking you back into the bowels of the beast it seemed.

Winding through tables and chairs you found yourself in front of a private room. You didn’t want to think about how much this cost, so you simply just let your mind wander to other fun topics.

Such as the fact that you were potentially meeting your surrogate partners.

“Mr. Jeon? Mr. Park? A Miss Y/N is here for you,” the host said, through the door.

“Let her in,” a higher pitched male voice said.

You bit your lip and waited as the door opened. You looked inside and saw a beautiful wooden table, laid out with the finest meats and other various types of noodles and food. Then, there was the other feast, one for your eyes.

Park Jimin was a smaller man, but so incredibly handsome it made your head swirl. His soft blond hair tucked under a beanie as he looked up at you with what could only be called wonder. He looked at you gently, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Jeon Jungkook was a different story. Lean but cut, tiny waist accentuated by his pants. His arms were strong looking and one was covered in tattoos. His hair was pulled away from his face in a precious man bun that made your heart stutter. His eyes were big and glassy, looking at you. As if breathing you in.

“Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m Y/N.”

“We know,” Jimin said with a gentle smile.

“Come, sit down,” Jungkook said, moving a chair out for you to sit.

“Okay,” you agreed, moving to sit down.

“Get whatever you want,” Jimin encouraged, handing you the menu politely.

“Thank you,” you blushed, trying to not faint with his eyes on you like that.

Ordering a few things for yourself the three of you sat there with awkward silence filling the space. Jungkook wouldn’t really look at you and Jimin seemed like he was too nervous to start.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “How long have you two been together?” You asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Five years,” Jungkook said, placing his hand over his glass.

“Oh wow, congratulations,” you said, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed.

“Our friend Namjoon said you were kind of in a tight spot and needed some help financially, is this true?” Jungkook asked, finally glancing your way.

“Y-Yeah, I wish he wouldn’t just tell other people that but, no sense in denying the truth. I’m almost six grand behind on rent,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Both of their faces fell, looking at each other in worry.

“It-It’s okay though! I’ll be okay, I always am,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/N, I would be scared shitless if I were you,” Jungkook said, taking slow drinks from his glass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to avoid the stinging in your eyes.

“What do you do for work?” Jimin asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning to dark.

“I’m a receptionist at the local hotel. It’s not much, but I really like it,” you said, a grin taking place on your face.

“Hey, if you like it then that means something,” Jimin encouraged.

“So, you two want to have a baby?” You said, trying to get down to the topic at hand.

“Yes, more than anything,” Jimin said, a wistful look crossing his face.

“That’s amazing, to love each other that much and want to build a family is... Super important,” you said, meaning every word.

“What does your family do, Y/N? Do they live here in the city?”

You awkwardly rubbed your hands together.

“Um, my Great Aunt lives out in the country. But, my parents and most of my other relatives have passed on,” you said, trying to hide the emotion that came up.

“Oh, so sorry for your loss,” Jungkook said, face pinching.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you whispered.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jimin argued.

“You’re right, but, it’s okay,” you said.

“So, you have a high chance for twins,” Jungkook said, looking at some papers you didn’t notice were on the table.

“Yes, my mother was a twin. It runs way back in my family,” you said.

“Jimin has a good chance of having twins as well,” Jungkook said, gesturing to his loving partner.

“I do I do,” he said with a grin.

“Do you two want a set of twins?” You asked.

“It’s preferred but not necessary. As long as we get a baby, that’s all that matters,” Jungkook said.

Soon, the food was delivered and Jungkook and Jimin insisted on cooking the food for you. Something about not stressing you out too much.

After a full meal, you leaned back and let your head fall comfortably. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance at each other.

‘She’s the one,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook smiled and nodded back.

“Thank you for the meal, I really do appreciate it. I haven’t eaten like that in months,” you said.

“Well, if you want to have our baby, we would gladly provide you with all the food you could want,” Jimin said.

“T-That’s alright, it wouldn’t be necessary-”

“Yes it would, Y/N. If you carry our child that means we’re responsible for you, everything you need or want will be yours. We swear,” Jungkook said.

“Right,” you swallowed thickly.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jimin asked.

“I-I’ve never really been one for dependence on other people. You know? I like to do things myself if I can,” you said.

“Well, we wouldn’t force you to do anything of course but, if you did want or need anything, we would be more than happy to provide you with it,” Jungkook said.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you said.

“You’d be carrying our child,” Jimin said as if it were obvious.

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Hey, if you don’t want to do this then don’t feel pressured. Don’t let money be an object in what you want to do with your life. It’s not healthy,” Jimin said.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“Well, I think it’s time to get going. I know you’ve met with other couples that have no doubt tried to convince you they’re the best option but... I really hope you chose us Y/N. You’d be the perfect surrogate for us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with a softened gaze.

And you knew it too.

You knew they were the couple you wanted to surrogate for, even if it cost you everything. You knew they deserved it. Not that any of the other families you had spoken to didn’t, but, they were the ones for you.

Your fertile window and ovulation were coming up so you had to make a choice and soon.

You’d met with the doctors at the clinic and they said that they were just waiting on you. Whomever you picked would have a meeting with you before the insemination on the rules and what you would have to do in regards to taking care of yourself. And then the money would be yours in full.

Calling the clinic you told them your answer.

“I would like to surrogate for Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park,” you said.

“Alrighty, I will give them a call and set up the appointment for them to get their end of the deal all set up and then we can get you all ready to go!” The receptionist said.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you said before hanging up.

Namjoon and Jin invited you over wanting to hear the news of everything going on with you.

And you couldn’t wait to see Annie again.

“Aw, you’re getting so big!” You said as you were greeted by Annie’s face in Jin’s arms.

“Yes she is!” Jin agreed. The cooing baby leaned forward, moving to capture your hair in her little fist.

You laughed and took her from Jin easily, he didn’t fight you and let you have your time with her. Rocking and bouncing her on your hip while the pair of them talked in the dining room.

Soon, a knocking came to the door.

Confusion swept over you, but regardless, you went to answer the door anyways.

Annie still on your hip, you opened the door to reveal Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, your new surrogate partners.

Frozen in shock the two of them looked at you as if they were equally confused.

You wondered if the clinic had told them you picked them yet. You had just gotten off the phone with them today, so you weren’t. Jungkook’s face went to you to Annie and then back to you.

“H-Hi?” You whispered.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Came to have dinner with Jinnie and Joon, and Annie of course,” you smiled, raising the little one up on your hip more.

“Oh, did you know we were coming?” Jungkook asked.

“No, I had no idea,” you said.

“Ah! Are those the boys?” Jin’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

“Yes!” You yelled back.

“Let them in Y/N! We invited them over too!” Namjoon said.

“Please come in,” you said, moving out of their way as the couple greeted Jin and Namjoon fondly.

It appeared as though there were no hard feelings in regards to them getting a surrogate they wanted. But, you could see Jungkook’s longing on his face when he looked at Annie in your arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Jimin said, looking down at Annie as you rocked her to sleep.

“Mhmm, gorgeous. She’ll be stealing hearts just like her dads,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, keeping his eyes trained on the little one in your arms.

“Did you make your decision yet? It said on your profile that your ovulation window was coming up and I was just curious,” he said quietly.

“I did,” you said.

Jimin’s face fell.

“I see,” he swallowed.

“Jimin-”

“Alright you two, paws off the baby, my turn!” Namjoon said, walking in.

You handed the sleeping baby over without a fuss before you and Jimin both walked out into the living room. Jimin whispered something to Jungkook and his face dropped. But you couldn’t find the words in your mouth. You wanted to tell them you picked them. You moved to talk to them when you felt Jin’s presence behind you.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jin asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was getting later, and you were feeling sleepy from all the food you’d eaten during the night.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at your sleepy form and their hearts broke all over again.

“I can’t believe she didn’t pick us,” Jungkook said, face betraying how he felt.

“Babe, you can’t force her. I-I thought we had a good chance but,” Jimin sighed.

“I don’t want to keep looking for a surrogate if this is going to happen every time,” Jungkook said, pain coming through in his voice.

“Jungkook you know how badly I want this too right? It’s not just you hurting here,” Jimin said.

“We’ve been trying for two years to find a surrogate and when we find one we want, they always pick someone else. Why? Are we that undesirable? I don’t understand,” Jungkook sighed.

“It’s not that,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe it’s just not our turn yet.”

“When is it gonna be our turn, huh?” Jungkook said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“We can’t give up,” Jimin said softly. “I don’t want to give up yet.”

“I know baby,” Jungkook said, kissing Jimin’s cheek softly.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. These poor men were really hurting for a baby. A family to call their own.

Sitting up Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in fear.

“Y/N? Y-You were awake-oh God I’m so sorry you had to hear that-” Jimin said frantically.

“I picked you two,” you said.

Their eyes shot up to meet yours.

Jungkook’s were glossy from unshed tears and Jimin’s were widening by the second.

“You what?”

“I said I picked you two. I want to surrogate for you two,” you explained.

“But-in the nursery you said-” Jimin started.

“I said I had picked someone, I didn’t say who silly,” you smiled.

“Oh thank you Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming over to hold your hand in his.

“You don’t know what this means to us,” Jimin said.

“I know you two want this baby more than anything, I want to give it to you. Honestly, you two have waited long enough,” you said, heart stammering at the look of hope in their eyes.

“You’re perfect Y/N! Seriously!” Jimin cried, holding onto Jungkook for dear life.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m supposed to go in for the, you know, business end of it on Monday. They said they’d call you tomorrow. I just gave my answer today,” you told them.

“Okay, alright sounds good,” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“You gonna be okay?” You asked, looking at the two of them.

“Of course, more than okay.”

—

Monday creeped up on you quickly, faster than you thought.

You went to the clinic and sat down, getting signed in and everything before you saw Jungkook and Jimin waltz in looking like a million bucks.

Dressed head to toe in designer clothing, you realized you didn’t know what they did for a living. You hadn’t really looked at their profiles all that much. But you knew their baby would have everything they could ever want and more.

Smiling at them and waving, the two of them made their way over to you.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down in the chair next to you.

“Just waiting,” you said, looking at the pair of them together.

They looked like the traditional power couple. Strong, dependable and handsome to boot. It was kind of overwhelming.

Jungkook was wringing his hands together, biting his lip as he looked around the room.

“You alright Jungkook?”

“Yeah just-”

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park and Miss Y/N? The legal assistant will see you now,” a voice from the corner called.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and heading towards the back room.

You sat down and the rules of the road were laid out.

If you signed the contract Jimin and Jungkook were the parents of the child. You had no rights unless they said otherwise. You would be given a lump sum of money, transferred into your bank account the day they know you’re pregnant and expecting. If anything happens to the baby such as a miscarriage or something of the like that you had no control over, you would be able to keep the money. But, they would like to try again to see if the next one stuck better.

“So, if you conceive twins, which your likelihood is good, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park have agreed to pay you double,” you almost choked on your drink.

Double?

“What?” You squeaked out.

“It’s written right here,” the legal assistant said, pointing to the document in her hands.

“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable.

“The total of your payment will come to $153,000 dollars,” the legal assistant said. “If you conceive twins.”

Your head swirled.

What would you do with all that money? Jimin and Jungkook looked at you with worry.

“I-Is it not enough? We can give you more if you want-”

“No! No no, that is totally acceptable. More than,” you said.

“Okay, just making sure,” Jimin answered.

“If you would please initial here, Miss Y/N. And then a signature here at the bottom and then you two will also need to sign as well,” she said.

After all the paperwork was done your date for insemination was set.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at you as you walked out of the clinic.

“Hey! Y/N! Hold on,” Jungkook said, walking forward.

“Huh? What is it?” You asked turning around.

Jungkook’s bright eyes blinded you as he gazed into your own. But you kept your breathing steady as you could.

“Do you want a ride home? Jimin and I cleared our schedules so we could be here today, and... Well we don’t want you to get hurt or anything,” he said, pointing to the black suburban.

“Oh, it’s alright I was gonna go to the bookstore and get a few things and then head home but I’ll be fine, no worries,” you smiled.

“We insist, Y/N,” Jimin said, walking forward to take his partner’s hand.

“Um, well... It’s really not that far, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” you said.

“Well, if you’re really sure,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you two on Thursday right? That’s when I’m supposed to... Well, you know,” your said, looking down at your feet.

“Of course! If you want us to be there that is,” Jimin said.

“Yes, it’s your baby,” you said.

“Okay, we’ll see you Thursday then,” Jungkook agreed, waving at you before he and Jimin got into the suburban and left.

But you couldn’t help the feeling you had as you watched them drive away.

Sadness.

—

You walked into the clinic Thursday morning, sweat pooling in your palms. You were reaching the end of your wire at your apartment. And you weren’t going to get the money in time. You were worried and didn’t want to bother Namjoon and Jin... So you just kept it to yourself.

You felt the fear and worry eating you up inside as you sat in the waiting room.

The doctor called your name and you headed back towards the room, when someone shouted your name.

Jimin and Jungkook were there, smiling brightly at you.

Your heart eased at seeing the two men, so happy and radiant. Everything you weren’t currently. But, knowing you were giving them something so important really made you feel better. Even if it was just for the time being.

“Oh my gosh, we’re finally getting a baby!” Jimin squeaked.

“Easy, it’s probably not going to happen first try,” you reminded him of what the doctor said.

“Bet I could get you pregnant in one shot,” Jungkook smirked.

“Oh shush Kook. But if you got her pregnant you wouldn’t get those twins you want so badly now would you, butthead,” Jimin said, shoving the younger man around slightly.

You tried to keep yourself from blushing but the redness that twinged your cheeks was there regardless. You were here to get pregnant, that was the end goal of today.

“Alright, Miss Y/N, we’re going to take you back and get you all set and then Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon have said they wanted to take you home after. Is that alright with you?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, that’s fine,” you said.

“Okay, let’s head back then,” Jungkook gave you a gentle smile before Jimin came forward and gave your knuckles a quick kiss.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said.

“Thanks,” you answered before heading back.

The whole process took around a hour and a half, most of it waiting.

The sensation wasn’t too bad, but you were a little uncomfortable. Everything was super sterile and not how you expected you’d get pregnant, but... It wasn’t your baby at the end of the day. You tried not to wiggle as you laid there, letting Jimin’s seed try to impregnate you.

Finally, the timer went off and you were allowed to leave to go home.

Jimin and Jungkook were sat in the waiting room, chatting with each other excitedly. You knew that this was it, that they were more than perfect for this baby. You were beyond happy you could give it to them.

“Y/N!” Jimin said, walking up to greet you.

“Hey,” you said easily, noticing Jungkook come up behind him.

“We’re here to take you home!” Jimin smiled.

“Thanks guys,” you said softly.

“We brought the car around already so you don’t have to walk too much. Don’t wanna spoil all our hard work,” Jimin said, looking at your tummy with affection.

“Like I said Jimin, it probably won’t happen this time. But you never know, you might have some strong swimmers,” you joked.

“You have no idea, Y/N,” he said, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat. He looked like an angel wrapped in sin, as if he were so good yet so bad for you. It made your head spin.

Jungkook held the car door open for you and you got in carefully. Jimin sat in the back with you while Jungkook sat up front.

Of course these two had a driver...

Jimin was looking out the window and noticed that they were getting into the sketchier part of town. His worry was eating him alive. He didn’t want the mother of his child staying here! That simply wouldn’t do.

You got out of the car, heading towards your apartment when the landlord approached you. Jungkook and Jimin were still getting out of the car when he exploded at you.

“There’s the little bitch now!” He growled, grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully.

You yelped, trying not to move so much. It only made it hurt more.

“Let me go!” You said.

“You filthy cunt, you owe me almost six thousand dollars! And you dare to come back here without anything? Huh? Nothing? Where have you been huh? Selling your body to make some cash I bet, that’s what little whore’s like you do right? Fucking pathetic,” he spits at you.

“I-I just need a little more time-” a resounding smack is heard through the parking lot.

Jimin and Jungkook look up to see your head turned sharply to the side and a man gripping your wrist.

Both of the men flew off the handle.

“Let go of her you fucker!” Jungkook yelled, walking forward with purpose.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jimin growled, pulling you away from the man.

“Did you fucking hit her?” Jungkook said, looking at your reddened cheek.

“Bitch owes me money, she knows that-”

“Fucker!” Jungkook snarled, grabbing the man by his shirt and lifting him.

“Y/N? Sweetie can you hear me?” Jimin whispered. Your head was swimming with pain and discomfort. Your cheek was screaming at you. But what hurt worse was the embarrassment. They saw it all, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. How on earth were you going to take care of a baby if you got pregnant for nine months? Huh?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, he hurt you. Jungkook put him down and call the cops,” Jimin said.

“I owe him money, I just-”

“You can’t arrest me! You fuckheads, do you know who I am?” He asked.

“Do you know who we are? Hi I’m Jeon Jungkook, heir to the Jeon Law Firm here in the city. You might have heard of us, and she is the mother of my future child and you won’t be putting your hands on her ever again,” Jungkook said.

“I just wanna leave, I don’t... I don’t wanna be here,” you whimpered.

“But Y/N,” Jimin said.

“Can we leave? Please?” You begged, looking up at him with a swollen cheek and glossy eyes. Jimin’s heart broke five times over, seeing you so upset.

“Jungkook, come on. Let’s go,” Jimin said.

“And leave her with this fucking piece of shit? I think not, no we’re going to-Y/N? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked, coming forward and looking at your face with a tenderness you didn’t know was there.

“We’ll take her home with us,” Jimin said easily.

“Okay, yeah. But we’re calling the cops on that dickbag when we get back. I want him arrested for hurting her,” Jungkook said with finality.

“Of course baby,” Jimin said, soothing the younger male.

“Can we just go?” You asked, looking up at them for a moment.

“Yes, of course we can, let’s get you in the car and go back to our place,” Jungkook said, coming forward and getting into the back seat this time. Jimin encouraged you to get inside, so you did, him following shortly thereafter.

“Take us home please,” Jungkook said, shutting the little window between the front of the car and the back.

You sat between the two men, each of them looking out the window and appearing to be deep in thought. You were as well. You hoped this didn’t affect your chances of getting pregnant. You don’t know what you’d do if you couldn’t get this baby. The prospect of so much money on the line, you very future.

Also, you worried for Jungkook and Jimin. You really wanted this to work for their sake too.

They’d been waiting so long.

You were swallowed into the dreamscape of your thoughts. Nothing really getting in or out of your mind. You were just reeling at everything that had happened in less than four hours. You had your first attempt at insemination, went home and got assaulted and now you were heading to the upper end of the city with the two men who wanted you to have a baby for them.

This was all so much to handle.

Finally, the car stopped moving and Jimin quickly ushered you out of the vehicle. You stood there and looked up at the stunning building with a weird sense of fear. It loomed over you, almost intimidatingly so.

Jimin told the driver to go park the car and take the rest of the day off while Jungkook gathered their things from the back. You looked around and noticed that people were staring at you.

No doubt you looked like a sore pink thumb right now. Tear stained and swollen cheeks making you look even more outlandish in the area. But, Jungkook quickly moved everyone inside.

The door man asked who you were and Jimin and Jungkook simply told the truth.

“She’s our surrogate, we’re having her stay with us for a while. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it!” Jimin said.

“Absolutely Mr. Park,” the doorman said.

“Come on Y/N,” Jungkook said, heading towards the elevator.

You followed behind them quickly, getting in the mirrored elevator. Looking at yourself you felt all the anxiety and fear come back. You didn’t belong here, you were wearing a pair of fucked up jeans, a flannel and t-shirt. They were dressed in beautiful clothing, dipped in the finest silks and satins.

You looked like a charity case no doubt.

It made your stomach churn in discomfort. But you kept your mouth shut. You were providing them with a service. And in turn they were paying you. It was a give and take situation. But you couldn’t help but feel as though you were taking more than you were giving.

Jungkook held the door while you and Jimin entered the house. You looked around and the apartment was massive. Bigger than your Aunt’s tiny house in the country. You wondered just how much money these two had.

Soon, Jimin was sitting you down on the couch and tending to your cheek. His heart crumpled when you flinched at his touch. He tried not to take it personally, you were literally just assaulted. But he hoped you weren’t scared of him, or Jungkook.

“Should I call the doctor?” Jungkook asked, coming in and sitting next to Jimin.

“No, she’s just a little swollen, she’ll be alright,” Jimin said, handing you the painkillers and some ice.

“Can she have that?” Jungkook asked, referring to the pain medicine.

“It’s acetaminophen she can have it,” Jimin confirmed.

“Okay,” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, looking at you for any signs of discomfort.

“Not particularly, but I should eat. Especially today,” you said, a weak smile on your face. Jimin nodded, but headed towards the kitchen regardless.

Soon after, a wonderful aroma filled the apartment. But you hadn’t moved from the couch, keeping your eyes trained on the TV Jimin turned on for you. You didn’t particularly want to watch the news, but you weren’t sure on how to work this TV. It made your brain hurt. But, whatever, you kept your eyes on the screen, not looking anywhere in particular.

Jimin soon came out, wearing a smile that must be a signature for him or something. He told you dinner was ready and to follow him. Turning off the TV with a swipe of his finger on the screen you marveled at the technology.

He patted your cheek and brought you into the dining room.

Jungkook was finishing putting the food out when you sat down. He and Jimin were deep in conversation. You picked at your food, eating a few pieces if Jimin put them on your plate. But other than that, you sat unmoving in the corner.

You supposed you were still in shock of what had happened today.

Soon, you felt the distinct cramping in your lower stomach, something you were told is to be expected. Especially if the pregnancy took. Letting out a puff of air, you held your stomach. It wasn’t terrible, but the discomfort had you adjusting in your seat.

Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, carefully observing you.

“Everything alright? Y/N?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in a cute way.

Forcing a smile you nodded.

“Yeah, just cramping a little bit,” you said, keeping your hands together underneath the table.

“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked, leaning towards you.

“No-ah!” You said, clutching your stomach. It didn’t hurt as much as it caught you off guard. But the two men were beside you in seconds.

“Y/N? Do you want us to call the doctor?”

“Is there something we can get for you? Do you want more pain medicine?”

“N-No, honestly, I’m okay,” you said, giving them each a squeeze to their wrist.

Jimin nodded, standing up and moved to start cleaning up the meal. Jungkook placed a couple more pieces of meat on your plate, asking you to eat them. He thought it could help your cramping, but he mainly just wanted to see you eat something.

Soon, the pair of them had cleaned up the meal and had gathered some clothes for you to wear to bed.

“We’ll pick up some stuff for you to wear tomorrow,” Jungkook said smiling.

“N-No that’s alright I can go back and get my stuff,” you said.

“You’re not going anywhere near that building,” Jimin warned, voice low.

“What? I have to get my stuff-”

“We’ll have someone go collect your things and bring them back here,” Jimin said, careful.

“I can go it’s not a big deal-”

“Y/N, please, just let us take care of this,” Jungkook said, quietly coming over to your side.

You were far too tired to argue. But you already felt like a cat in a cage. So you waved off the disagreement and decided to just head to bed.

The cramping was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been when you were at the table. Laying down helped, but you felt something in your underwear.

Quickly, you went to the bathroom and noticed some blood in your underwear. Biting your lip, you tried to keep yourself from panicking. Putting them back on you went to living room and found Jimin sitting on the couch, looking tired.

“J-Jimin,” you said quietly.

His head snapped up and he gave you a little smile.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, coming towards you. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.

“I-I was bleeding,” you said, voice straining slightly.

“You were? Where?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“M-My, uh, I found it in my underwear,” you said, breathing in deeply.

“Was it a lot?” He asked, keeping a cool exterior.

“N-No, not a lot but it worried me,” you said, trying to keep yourself from freaking out on him.

“It’s normal to spot a little after the IUI, don’t worry. But tell me if anymore happens. They did just shove a tube up your business,” he said, laughing lightly.

Immediately you were put at ease. Sensing your relief, Jimin patted your shoulder.

“It’s okay to be nervous, we are,” Jimin said, nodding towards the closed door you assumed was to their bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m-I just really want this to work,” you confessed, feeling yourself relax a bit.

“We do too, more than anything,” Jimin answered, giving you a genuine grin.

“I’m glad that the baby will have you two as parents, makes me feel good knowing that they’ll be taken care of,” you smiled back.

Jimin’s face seemed to morph into a look of joy and agony at the same time.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Jungkook and I are beyond excited,” he explained.

“Have you always wanted to be a father?” You asked him, out of the blue. Jimin blushed and looked down at his feet.

“Y-Yeah, ever since I was little I always wanted a family to call my own. And when I met Jungkook I knew it was just meant to be you know? Like, everything just made sense,” he said, a sheepish look taking over his features.

“That’s so sweet,” you gushed.

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged.

“I want someone to look at me the way you look at Jungkook, like I’m their whole world and more. I’ve never been one for dating though,” you said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

“No? How many boyfriends or girlfriends have you had?” Jimin asked, not thinking. When the shocked look took over your face he back peddled. “I-I shouldn’t have asked, that doesn’t deem your worth or anything like that-”

“None,” you said, blushing bright red.

Jimin’s face changed.

“Tell me if I’m out of line here, but have you ever, uh... You know, um,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh? Sex? Yeah, I’ve done it before, but it wasn’t really anything special. I don’t even think I-um... Nevermind,” you said, biting your lip hard.

“You don’t think you what? You didn’t cum?” Jimin said, as if he were shocked.

“No! Now keep your voice down!” You yelped.

Jimin frowned.

“That’s horrible, you deserve better,” Jimin said matter of factly.

“It happens, but, this conversation has gotten away from us,” you said, trying to steer it away from your pathetic sex life and more towards the fact that you both need to go to bed. “I’m tired, had a long day.” You said, rubbing your arms.

“Of course, absolutely! If you need anything or something happens, our room is right here just come get us,” Jimin said.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning, but not before you wished him a good night.

Jimin gave you a small smile. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

—

Soon your stuff was all moved into the boys apartment. You questioned when you would be leaving, but the boys said that you didn’t have to worry about departing for the foreseeable future.

They had originally wanted you to live with them if and when they found out you were pregnant, that way they could be there through it all. But, these stages after the insemination could be hard on you and they decided to keep you with them.

You felt like a little kid half the time, but you had to call in to work often because of these appointments. And quickly, they tired of it.

“Y/N, we love you and we want you to pick here to work, but honestly your attendance is a severe issue right now,” your supervisor said over the phone. You called in that day because you just were feeling super exhausted.

You hadn’t told them you’d signed up for a surrogacy. You weren’t sure how that would go over, but, maybe you had to if you wanted to save your job.

“I-I’m calling in all the time because I’m trying to get pregnant,” you said softly.

Laughter came from the other side of the phone.

You were being laughed at.

“Oh my God, Y/N, that’s hilarious! But seriously, I have to put you on a two week suspension without pay because-”

“Dawn, I'm serious. I signed up with the fertility clinic and I’m currently trying to become a surrogate for a lovely couple,” you said, honestly.

“Y/N, why did you sign up for that? As far as any of us knew, you weren’t that into kids,” Dawn said over the phone.

“I-I like kids, but the baby won’t be mine to keep. The couple gets to keep them once they are born. I lose all rights as a parent,” you explained.

“That’s kinda cruel... Let you carry the baby for nine months then force you to leave them. I don’t know if I could do that,” she said.

“I-It’s the way it is,” you said. “But I need to have the day off, I have an appointment at the clinic.”

“Y/N, would it be easier if we just let you quit?” Dawn said.

“What?!” You shrieked into the phone.

“Well, it’s a delicate time and we'd have you working on your feet for long hours. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby,” she said, sounding sad.

“But I don’t wanna leave you guys,” you whimpered.

“Well, once the little tike is born come back. We’ll hire you back, I promise. If you want to come back,” she offered.

“Y-You’ll really let me come back?” You said, biting your lip.

It would be nice to just focus on the pregnancy and helping Jungkook and Jimin. If you had the option, maybe it would be better to take her advice and go back when you were ready. Hopefully they don’t screw you over.

“Of course we will! We love you! But, right now isn’t the best time for you to be working. Focus on you and your little bundle okay? We’ll be waiting,” she said.

“Oh thank you Dawn! I love you guys too!”

After a little tears ‘see you later’, you hung up.

Soon, a soft knock came to your door. Looking up you saw Jungkook there, dressed to the nines looking at you. Raising a brow you assessed the situation.

“What’s up?” You said, setting your phone down to give him your undivided attention.

“I was wondering if you needed a ride to work, you’re already an hour late,” he said, pointing to the clock on your wall.

“Oh, about that,” you said, rubbing your hands together.

“Did something happen? Did they fire you for being our surrogate? Oh just let me make one phone call, that’s illegal! I’m a lawyer, let me talk some sense into them!” Jungkook said, turning to walk out.

“No, Jungkook! It’s fine, they told me to take the time off. To spend time focusing on myself and to take care of the baby,” you explained. “My job will be there when I’m ready to return.”

Jungkook stopped and looked at you. His features softened before nodding.

“Okay, but if they try to tell you you can’t go back when you’re ready, you just tell me. I won’t let anyone disrespect or lie to you,” he said, a stern look on his face.

“Thanks Jungkook, that means a lot,” you said, giving a smile.

“There’s food in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. You have the house to yourself so, do whatever you want,” Jungkook said, waving before walking out of your room.

You sat there for a minute, really mulling over what you wanted to do. Honestly, you were so sore and tired you just wanted to fall back asleep. But you decided that it was better to get up and do some activity. Hopefully that would be okay.

It had been about ten days since your IUI appointment and you were mainly just tired. Although fatigue was a symptom of an attachment. But that was the only symptom you were having, you were meant to test in a couple days to see if you were pregnant, but something had you worried.

If you weren’t pregnant, you’d have to wait a whole other month. They did tell you that sometimes it took multiple tries to successfully impregnate someone. But you really wanted this to work, you just wanted to get this going.

That way Jimin and Jungkook could have their baby already.

You knew they’d be amazing fathers, already with their dutiful actions towards you. So willing to do whatever you asked, but you tried your best not to pester them too much. You tried to make it as though you weren’t even there. But they insisted you join them for dinner so they could make sure you were eating well.

For your day you mainly just puttered around the house, picking up and doing little things that wouldn’t aggravate you. So, you settled down with a book in your hands and soft music playing in the background.

That’s how Jimin and Jungkook found you when they came home. Curled up on the couch with a novel between your fingers. Jimin smiled softly, looking at the picturesque scene.

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jungkook asked, looking at his boyfriend with apprehension.

“I hope so,” Jimin answered.

“She’s really tired lately, sleeping late and going to bed early. That’s a sign, right?” Jungkook said.

“It is, but that’s also a sign of a woman’s period coming up,” Jimin warned.

“Damn...” Jungkook said, rubbing his face.

“But I don’t know, she’s due to test soon so, we might have our baby,” Jimin soothed.

You looked up from your book, noticing the pair in the entryway. Giving them a shy smile, you waved, nose getting buried back in the book. Jimin laughed lightly, heading towards the kitchen.

The two cooked dinner, making something easy to digest. Your stomach was on the fritz yesterday so they want to make sure they don’t upset your sensitive tummy. But, as Jimin looked out at you reading on the couch, a blanket draped along your lap. He couldn’t help but love the domesticity of it all. You looked at peace, in your element and comfortable.

Jimin hoped it would stay that way. With you, comfy and cared for.

Jungkook rushed past with the boiling soup in his hands, moving quick like a little kid to set the table for you all. Jimin just laughed, smacking his butt when he came back.

“Hey! Paws off,” Jungkook pouted.

“Hmm? That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Jimin laughed at the scandalized look on Jungkook’s face. “I’m kidding, come on go get Y/N so we can eat.”

Jungkook went to gather you from the living room and was met with an unusual sight. You passed out, wrapped in the blanket with your book on the floor.

He smiled, moving towards you slowly. He placed a soft hand on your head, patting your hair gently. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Jungkook helped you up, leading you to the dining room.

The meal was quiet, Jungkook and Jimin making small talk with you, but mostly you were just eating peacefully.

You ate well and leaned back, as you tended to do when you were full and let out a huff. Jimin repressed the smile on his face with the back of his hand. Jungkook smiled openly, looking at your sleepy form.

Sitting back up you took a few more swallows of water before you stood up and thanked them for the meal and headed towards your room.

Jungkook and Jimin watched you go, each having a weird tightening in their chest at the sight of your swaying hips.

—

You had finally reached the two week mark.

Time to test.

Jimin and Jungkook went with you, driving you to the clinic for your appointment at the ass crack of dawn it felt like.

Jimin was chatting excitedly in the front seat with Jungkook. You could see the looks of love on their faces as they talked about their future with their child. It made butterflies rise in your stomach.

Quickly smacking your cheeks, you tried to forget the sensation of hope building in your belly.

Soon you were all at the clinic, Jimin helping you out of the car. The two men walked on either side of you, making sure everyone knew who you were here with. It made you feel protected, watched over.

Important.

After all the paperwork was done for the visit, Jungkook and Jimin sat down next to you. They interlocked their hands, smiling brightly at each other. You locked your hands together and looked down at them.

“Miss Y/N? Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon? Are you all ready?” A nurse called and you all headed back to a secluded room, a few chairs and the like ready. You saw the needles and everything set up and you swallowed hard.

You hated needles, with a passion.

But you’d done it before, so you’d do it again.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jungkook asked, looking at your paling face.

“Y-yeah, nervous around needles,” you confessed.

“Oh, do you want some water or something?”

“No I’m okay,” you encouraged.

“If you’re sure,” Jungkook said, looking like he wanted to do more...

“Alright! We’re gonna take some blood and a urine sample, so if you two would just wait outside for a moment while we get her changed, then you can come back in if you want,” the nurse explained.

You got changed and hopped up on the table.

They asked a bunch of questions, all fairly standard. Then they brought out the needles. Jimin saw you flinch when the packaging came off and you saw the syringe come closer.

“Hang on,” Jimin said, standing up.

The nurse stopped and looked up in confusion, that’s when Jimin took your hand in his and squeezed.

“You can hold my hand while they take your blood okay? Just squeeze if you need to,” he said, looking at your face for any signs of resistance.

You bit your lip and nodded.

The nurse took your blood quickly, getting a few vials full. Jungkook watched as his boyfriend held your hand the whole time, keeping you calm and at ease.

He hoped with everything he was that this had worked.

God, he wanted it to work so bad.

Soon, the two men were being ushered out of the room so you could do your urine sample.

After everything was done and over with, you got dressed and went to the waiting room. Jimin and Jungkook stood up when they saw you, waving you over to sit with them.

All three of you waited with baited breath as they ran the tests. They kept asking if you wanted anything, water, juice or something to eat. But you politely declined. Knowing if you put anything in your body right now you’d puke it up immediately with how nervous you were for the results.

They said it shouldn’t take too long.

It had been about an hour when a nurse popped her head out, signaling for all three of you to come back.

“Dr. Heinz will see you now,” she said, giving you all a small smile before leading you down the hallway towards the offices.

Shortly, you were sat on a comfortable sofa with Jungkook and Jimin in front of you. Jungkook and Jimin were holding onto each other so tight you feared for their circulation. But, Dr. Heinz was quick to get to the point.

“Well, I want to say, congratulations, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park... Y/N is pregnant,” he said, talking like you weren’t in the room.

“Oh my God!” Jungkook shouted, standing up and hugging Jimin to him tightly. They kissed several times, tears falling freely down the new father’s faces. Dr. Heinz let them have their moment, smiling at the happy couple. You looked down at your stomach and bit your lip.

So this was really happening...

“Jungkook, I love you,” Jimin said, holding onto his boyfriend tightly.

“I love you too babe, I love you too,” Jungkook affirmed.

“Okay we do have to discuss her health however,” Dr. Heinz said, having the men sit down quickly.

“Is she alright?” Jimin said, looking at you with worry written all over his features.

“She’s at a very fragile point in the pregnancy. IUI can be tricky so we need to be very careful with what happens next. I don’t want her doing anything strenuous. Especially with the lower body until we can get her in for an ultrasound. Her uterus looked good on her preliminary but getting pregnant can really affect a woman’s body, so we need to take all the precautions,” Dr. Heinz explained.

“But is she going to be okay?” Jungkook asked, placing a gentle hand on yours.

You looked at his big hand covering yours, blinking slowly.

“I’m worried about her low white blood cell count. That makes her more susceptible to colds and infections, so you need to be very careful. Her red blood cell count was also low, showing early signs of anemia. So lots of red meat and protein to help keep her levels up. Although the anemia will be aggravated by the pregnancy, so make sure she doesn’t stand up too fast or tax herself too much,” he said.

“I am right here,” you said, glaring at the doctor.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, they’re the parents in this situation. I want them to be informed of your situation,” Dr. Heinz said bluntly.

“There are four of us in this room, I’ll remind you of that. Don’t talk like I’m not here please,” you said, folding your hands and crossing your legs.

Jimin almost burst out laughing.

Damn you were feisty!

He really liked that...

“I-I apologize, Miss Y/N,” he said, swallowing quickly before continuing on. “Also, you’re going to start having more symptoms than the fatigue you mentioned. Morning sickness is extremely common and expected, although every woman is different. Headaches, dizziness and blurred vision are also to be noted. Even some spotting can happen, but please do tell us if you’re spotting or bleeding. Now, do any of you have questions?” The doctor asked, looking at the boys and you.

“Is there any way to know if we are expecting, more than one?” Jimin asked, looking down at your stomach with pure adoration on his face.

“We won’t really know until she’s further along. Quite a bit further actually. But for now, enjoy this. Enjoy the early stages, it’ll be tough but you can pull through. I wish you all the best of luck,” Dr. Heinz said, handing some paperwork over to Jungkook before the three of you stood up and headed out.

Jimin and Jungkook were so excited, chatting with each other about if they were having twins. If the baby was a boy or girl. You were in the car, hands folded in your lap while you looked out the window.

Honestly, you were scared out of your mind.

The doctor had mentioned this was a really fragile part of the pregnancy. That you’d have to be careful, not to mention it was important for your own health as well. If something happened to the baby, something could happen to you and vice versa.

Jungkook insisted on taking everyone out for dinner.

This was a big occasion after all.

Sitting down in the very resturant you all had your first meal in, felt kinda surreal.

Now, you were pregnant with their baby. It felt kinda full circle.

Jimin and Jungkook insisted on getting whatever you wanted. But you weren’t terribly hungry yet, maybe it was the nerves of the whole day catching up. But you ordered a few things, making sure to eat. You knew it made them happy when you did, because it showed you cared about your body and the life growing inside of you.

Jungkook was drinking, a lot if you were being honest. Jimin just watched him as his cheeks flushed red as he continued to talk animatedly at the two of you. Smiling, you filled up Jungkook’s water before urging him to drink some.

“Thanks youuu,” he said, beaming at you.

“You’re welcome, but drink up okay?” You said, gesturing towards the glass.

He did as you asked, drinking all the water. You sighed in relief, knowing at least he’d be hydrated when he went to bed.

“Well, guess you aren’t driving you big lug,” Jimin laughed as he hauled Jungkook out of the restaurant a while later.

“Mmm, we’re having a baby baby!” Jungkook cooed at Jimin, holding his cheeks in between his hands.

“Mhmm, yes we are. Now get in the back with Y/N, okay?” Jimin said, opening the back and helping his very tipsy boyfriend inside. You were about to climb in when Jimin placed his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt so hard you smacked your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you said, holding your head tightly.

“Y/N!” Jimin yelped. Jungkook’s head popped up.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at you with bleary eyes.

“I just smacked my head, I’m alright,” you said, rubbing your head gingerly.

“Can I take a look?” Jimin asked, biting his plump lips harshly.

“Y-yeah,” you said, leaning towards him.

Jimin’s gentle hands on your scalp proved to be dangerous. Because now, you wanted him to touch you here all the time. Combing his fingers through your hair. Massaging the tender flesh there.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding, but you’ll have a massive bump for a few days no doubt,” he reasoned.

“She’s gonna have a massive bump here soon too!” Jungkook cheered happily, pointing at your stomach.

“Jungkook, enough,” Jimin warned.

Grumbling to himself, Jungkook backed off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jimin asked. You nodded, already feeling the throbbing in the base of your skull starting.

“I’ll take a few pain killers when we get back,” you said.

“Okay,” Jimin said, running his hand from your head down to cradle your cheek in his palm. You’re cheeks heated up at the feeling of his skin on yours, but shortly he was retreating to the front of the car.

Soon, you were underway.

Jimin turned on the radio quietly, driving carefully around town.

Jungkook had managed to fall asleep against the window. When suddenly, the car was jerking to the side. Jimin laid on the horn, yelling a couple explicit words out the window. But, Jungkook’s body had already fallen into your lap.

His head rested comfortably against your thighs, arms draping across your legs. Jungkook continued to sleep peacefully while you inspected him. He had a beautiful nose, button like and slotting perfectly along with his already perfect features. His plush lips pouting as he slept. Your eyes widened at him, heart hammering in your chest as you gazed down at him.

He was incredibly handsome.

But, you knew his personality too. He was kind, but strong and sure of himself. He had an air of confidence that was almost infectious. But he also had a childish nature about him. Not immature, but there was something about the wonder in his eyes when he tried something new. Or the nostalgia that ran through him when he ate his favorite food or, just the sparkle in his eyes when Jimin came home.

You, as if possessed, took your hand and ran your fingers through his soft black hair. He groaned in his sleep, gripping your legs tighter. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

Jimin looked in the rearview mirror and saw you stroking Jungkook’s head with a gentle hand. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest. You were so caring and tender, everything you did had purpose behind it.

Jimin felt relief flood him at the idea of you being the mother of he and Jungkook’s child. Technically just Jimin’s but Jungkook was also the father but he didn’t get any genetics in this one.

This one...

Did Jimin want to have more children?

You just got the announcement today and he was already giddy at the prospect of you growing large with his child. But confusion swept through him. Was this just because he was grateful to you? Or was it something more?

Looking at you and Jungkook in the back, he thinks he might already know the answer.

#ficswithluv #ksmutclub #BTS #BTS smut #Jikook x reader #Jikook #Bangtan #BTS fanfic #Jikook smut #Jikook x reader smut #Pregnancy au #Jimin x jungkook x reader #Surrogacy Au

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scott-mccall-the-hot-girl · 3 years

Text

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

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stetervault · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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chyrstis · 3 years

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WIP Friday!

I’ve had some tags throughout the week, so I’m going to cash them all in here, since Friday’s the day and I might’ve been hoping to get this posted last night too, whoops! And I want to thank you all for tagging me even if I don’t always respond quickly! <3 I definitely intend to, but there’s never enough time in a day or a week, is there?

Tagged by @redroci @tommymillers @jackiesarch @ma-sulevin and @amistrio and @adelaidedrubman !

Tagging: @writerofblocks @twistedsinews @painterofhorizons @hunnybadgerv @cobb-vanthss @shallow-gravy @nightwingshero @ma-sulevin @shellibisshe @jackalopestride @unlikelynick @geronimo-11 @fluttyseed @fadedjacket @weekend-writer @starsandskies @faithchel @belorage @tomexraider @consumedkings @vasiktomis @chazz-anova @aceghosts @ofravensandgenesis @scarlettkat86 (and if you’re already posted WIPs, don’t mind me one bit! no obligation or pressure’s ever intended)

First, a snippet from Lighting the Fuse’s Ch. 2 which I’d love to edit up and post this weekend, so here’s hoping I can kick myself in the butt hard enough to pull it off? *crosses fingers*

---

“Not tonight, hon. Not tonight.” Propping herself back up on her elbows, she gave him a smile. “You’re here now, though. So…how about it?”

“How about what?”

“You ask,” she replied, giving him a lazy smile. “Since I’m clearly on the cusp of benching you if you don’t.”

Sharky clapped his mouth shut. Stood there, rooted to the ground and didn’t let out a single peep.

That boggled her completely. “Seriously, hon? Nothing?”

It was dark, but Hana could almost swear he was a shade of red darker than her hair right now. “You uh…. See I didn’t think it was-maybe you being asleep kinda threw off my groove a bit.”

Hana blinked at him. Watched a crooked smile settle onto his face as he let a nervous chuckle out.

“Like, like I mean I was gonna-was thinking of maybe doing this sorta-” His words trailed off as he clenched his teeth, swallowed hard, and let out a long exhale. “Okay, so maybe this shit isn’t exactly-”

A loud sigh came from her left directly from the radio, and the sound filled the entire room.

“…Wait, what the fuck?” Sharky asked, his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. “You hear that?”

Clenching her fists, Hana slowly let her hands relax as she let the tension out. “Unfortunately.”

“Deputy, Deputy, Deputy. I know you’re listening. But I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose. I thought you wanted my attention. Would’ve been glad to finally have it undivided, and yet you deny me the pleasure of hearing a single response in turn. How…cruel.”

---

And a bit more of the Hana/Sharky one-shot I’ve been chipping away at, that’s actually getting really close to being finished too. I just need to jot down a few more moments for it and see if these two can actually clam up long enough to let me finish

---

“Yo, it’s not like I’ve been there any longer than a few days at a time, and half of the shit they’ve dragged me down to the jail for’s legal, just not in any of the spots I ended up doing it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, which is just fucking stupid seeing as lighting a fire by my house’s fine, but if it gets out to the street and catches on the trees ‘cause it’s extra dry out and the wind’s blowing, suddenly I gotta go in ‘cause I’m negligent or some shit. Then the po-po’s claiming I gotta have a permit to burn in the drier seasons, but it rains fucking plenty here.”

He’d draped his arm over her shoulders by this point, the motion coming so easily from him she hadn’t even noticed at first. Just nestled right into that warmth almost on reflex as Sharky kept on talking, and didn’t want to budge an inch if she could help it.

“Man, it’ll be the driest stretch of the year, and the sky’ll just open up and drop a bucket-load on us ‘cause it’s feeling it, but even if it don’t, anything I start’ll get put out. Just ‘cause I’m around doesn’t mean shit’s gonna go down, or nothing. ‘Cause then phone calls are made, people start looking at me funny, and I’m getting pulled out of my car for jack and shit when maybe I just wanted to take a breather there. Maybe get in a few Zs, take five to ten to jerk it, and they don’t gotta watch that too closely if I’m doing it either.”

She’d been nodding along with him, then stopped. Let that statement sink in as her eyebrows drew together before they rose high on her face.

“…Hon, that’s not legal.”

“Aw, come on, Dep! Don’t tell me there’s some kinda permit for parking out-“

“No, not that. You’d probably get slapped with a ticket or fine, sure, but it’s more about the fact that you were beating it there.”

“It’s indoors.”

That response came quick enough for her to tilt her head back to look at him. To side-eye him heavily as he shrugged, and damn. She’d curled up to him a lot closer than she’d initially thought. Close enough to-

She cleared her throat.

---

And a little more of the No Cult AU, maybe? ...I may have watched Speed again last night entirely due to this. and it might also be up to almost 8K in length as well, pre-edits, so... Help

---

But that didn’t solve the other problem. Towing it.

A truck would’ve been their best bet, but with him already there it didn’t make sense to try and scrape together cash for a tow truck, or to fire off a call to anyone down at the compound. His car had been used to drag Sr’s truck out of more than a few ditches without tearing the frame up, so this wasn’t a stretch to consider, and leaving them hanging now would’ve just been a shit thing to do when they didn’t even have a working phone or forty bucks between them.

And while he’d never been able to get a tow bar to last more than a few months max, he had a few solid workarounds that could still get the job done. One of which he’d seen in a commercial a while back.

He knew it almost by heart at this point, and cool as it’d be to fix their problem by just whipping his pants off and tying their vehicles together with them to help tow them to the compound, he’d gone down that road before. Hell, not just once, but twice now, and considering he’d been left between getting pepper sprayed and arrested, or having a busted set of jeans and his ass hanging out for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure he liked where that left him on round number three.

Besides these were a well-worn pair, and they seriously didn’t make them like they used to. Long as he tried not to get too creative with them, they had more than a few good years in them yet. So after some sifting and digging through the trunk of his car, Sharky kept his fingers crossed that he’d find an actual tow strap back there. He and Hurk had been through this dance enough times before that he knew he had one, and crossed his fingers that he hadn’t left it over at Sr.’s place.

Sure enough, there it was. Fucking majestic, and almost crumpled in the back, Sharky withdrew one perfect tow strap and broke out a few moves to celebrate it before hitching the two together.

Once it was secure, he told them all to hop in, and while trying to cram one extra person into his car was tough three other people might’ve been pushing it. John regularly had the best seat in the house and still hardly made it more than a few miles before fussing at him, and here they were double - and triple stacking themselves in any spare space in order to take a seat. Man, he was already thinking up ways to relay this story to Hurk later on, but with them semi-settled and packed safe as they could be, he fired the engine up and got them all back on the road.

It wasn’t a far drive out to Joseph’s but he took his time with it. Drove the slowest he’d ever attempted short of being twelve and behind the wheel for the first time, trying to be extra gentle with it all as the van lumbered behind them.

If he went too fast, they’d tear the back of his car off and lose it. If they hit the brakes too hard, they’d get rammed, so he needed to nail that sweet spot. Keep from tipping from one end over into the other as he played his very own version of Speed out on this stretch of road, watching that needle dance back and forth over that perfect point as he started to sweat a little under his cap.

But he had this. Pressed his foot down on the gas and let up when he needed to, exercising the kind of control that even John would give a silent nod of approval to - which would almost make him the Keanu to his Sandra, except John wasn’t there and currently trying to crawl under any of this shit to keep a bomb from going off - but whatever, it was close enough.

So he watched the mile markers fly by as they got closer and closer to the island, and by the time they rolled through the gate and came to a stop, Sharky let out whatever breath he’d started holding, and didn’t even care when the van nearly smashed into them on the home stretch anyway.

#wip #some of these are incredibly rough b/c my brain's part mush right now #but I've also had some of these segments stashed for way too long too #also if you want a laugh go ahead and look up the the old levi jeans commercial where they're 'towing' cars with it #of all the things to store in my brain over the years as a source of amusement it would be that

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bard-llama · 3 years

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WiP Wednesday: Upcoming Thronebreaker Fics + Gascon Backstory

Okay, for today’s WiP Wednesday, I wanna share a few fics I have planned for Thronebreaker! Don’t worry, I will definitely continue writing Iorveth/Roche (and also Isengrim/Eldain, though most of those haven’t been published yet. But I have a doc with 8 WiPs for them).

But now that I’ve properly met the Thronebreaker OT3, I am suuuuuuper here for them. I’m still kind of figuring out their dynamic, but to be honest, 90% of my fics will probably take place in the months they travel from Lyria’s capital to Aedirn, ‘cause that journey would take a long time! Even just to the border would be a long walk (and armies move SLOW), but then Vengerberg is fairly central and I assume Black Rayla comes in somewhere near the Moulderwoods, since that’s Eldain’s territory. So like... it would take MONTHS of slowly traveling down the road - and also probably avoiding patrols and maybe even towns, because they’re outlaws now. And considering most towns are BUILT on major roads...

Point is, there’s plenty of time for them to get to know each other while traveling to Aedirn. And I hear that Thronebreaker gets pretty sad and depressing (I don’t know the details, but I also don’t mind spoilers. I know some big ones already, but I’m sure there’s more) so tbh, not sure if I’ll ever finish the game. Which makes the period of Meve, Reynard, and their handful of deserters traveling with Gascon and his Strays of Spalla perfect for fic settings lol.

So far, I have 3 specific fics planned and a few other ideas percolating. The first one is the Taint of the Common Man, which I went into pretty in detail here, so I won’t repeat that (but be warned, link goes to very noncon/dubcon set up stuff).

The second fic is Gascon-focused angst! Well, really ot3 angst, but I’ve only written Gascon’s POV so far, though next is Reynard’s POV and then Meve’s. The premise is that they’re on the road to Aedirn and they’ve been sleeping together the three of them for several months - but Gascon gets a reminder of exactly what he is to them when they mention their 10th anniversary. And he tries to act normal and cheerful and brash, but his heart is breaking because he stupidly fell in love with a queen and her top general and what is he? Nothing.

So he starts to subtly pull away from them, trying to protect his heart. But Reynard notices and worries over it and brings it up with Meve - who is all “nah, he’s fine”, and then watches Gascon and has to rescind her words, because he is absolutely not fine. And Gascon is spending more and more time with his strays (and his right hand gal in particular, which they’re totally not jealous over or anything), so it has to be them that are the problem. Which means they have to talk.

I’m still thinking about non-sexual ways Meve and Reynard can show Gascon that he’s loved, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to throw them my way! But it’s definitely gonna have a happy ending with them working to show Gascon that he does belong with them.

The third fic is actually about Gascon becoming the Duke of Dogs XD If there’s a canon explanation, then too bad, because I like mine lol. Anyway, remember that right hand gal I mentioned? Well, her name is Medusa and she has purple hair that she braids and styles meticulously to look like snakes around her head. She also happens to be the best cat burglar in Aedirn - but she wasn’t always. So this fic is set way in the past, to when they first meet, because she’s the one that introduces him to the Strays of Spalla and vouches for him at first. Obviously later they both rise through the ranks and once Gascon takes over leadership, he works to make them more of a family (a family of crime lol).

Anyway, before any of that, we have Gascon as an 8yo who just saw his entire family murdered by the king’s guards for the crime of speaking out against the way nobles treat their people and their land. (idk if a reason is given in canon, but that’s my reason because it connects to some of the changes Gascon makes to the Strays. Basically, while they’re still a gang of criminals, I’ve decided to take inspiration from the incredible Black Panthers (who, to be clear, were NOT criminal, but were extensively treated like it by the FBI because they took care of and protected their community (you know, the ones the FBI was actively spying on and introducing highly addictive drugs to). I think I’ve lost the thread a bit and there are a lot of parentheses, so I’ll just conclude this bit by saying that my version of the Strays of Spalla steal from wealthy merchants and even wealthier nobles and use their ill-gotten gains to help the peasants (esp around Spalla, but across Lyria too). Which matters because I think Reynard semi understands that poor people are people (he talks to Meve about being proud to fight alongside the Strays because they’re fighting for freedom and what better cause is there?), but he’s still a nobleman who has spent the majority of his life at the king’s side. And Meve is queen. She has no fucking idea what the actual people of Lyria’s lives are like, because she’s always been concerned with managing her realm - which means managing nobles, who then are responsible for tending to their land aka getting taxes and shit from the peasants. So basically, both of them have a LOT of blindspots about what real actual people’s lives are like in their ‘great realm’. But Gascon? Gascon has lived that life.)

Right, so, the plot. The plot is actually not at all about how Gascon changes the Strays (oops), but about how he first joins them. So, 8yo Gascon. He just saw his family murdered, he was only saved because he was hidden in a closet, stuffing his own fist in his mouth to keep the guards from hearing him cry. But he Knows that they’ll kill him if they find out he survived, so he goes through the house and grabs what he can (what the guards didn’t loot) and tries not to throw up and cry too much. Then he runs.

But lil Gascon Brossard is a nobleman’s son and that’s the only life he’s known until now. And it’s obvious from his fine clothes that he has money - which means he ends up getting beaten and robbed on the streets a lot. Eventually, he learns to not share his name (’cause WOW that’s such a nobleman’s name lmao), but like... he’s 8. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just trying to survive. (Also, for extra angst, I’m thinking he got his mom’s signet ring from the house before he left, but it got stolen. But when he’s older, he steals it back.)

I’m not sure why he decides to rob the house of a minor noble in the Spalla area, but he does. And he actually plans it pretty carefully - he creates a cigarette bomb for a time-delayed (minor) explosion that busts open the door to the kennel and scares all the dogs, so they go howling and barking and running and create chaos. (A noble’s household would likely have a lot of dogs, most of them working ones.) His plan is to break into the kitchen while everyone is otherwise occupied and steal enough to eat for a good while.

But before he can do this, while he’s hiding in the bushes and waiting for his bomb to go off, someone else finds him. Specifically, Medusa finds him - because she was casing the place to steal stuff (probably jewels. She really likes shiny things). So she pulls a knife on him and demands to know who he is. And idk if the Brossards owned a duchy or if he was just being cheeky, but he’s all, “I’m a duke!”

“Yeah?” Medusa laughs. “Duke of what?”

At that moment, the bomb goes off with a little pop and then utter chaos descends as dogs start howling and baying and barking. And Gascon just grins his gap-toothed grin (he probably lost some teeth getting beaten tbh) and proclaims, “of dogs!”

Then he invites her to come raid the kitchen with him. And she’s not 8yo, but she’s only a few years older and those pastries do smell good. So the steal the whole lot and then Medusa brings him into the Strays and it starts to get a little bit easier for Gascon to survive. Idk how much he hides his name (’cause Gascon is SUCH a nobleman’s name, but also, he later signs orders to his men with all his amazing made up titles and then -G) but he definitely starts going predominantly by “Duke” and “the Duke of Dogs”.

Anyway shit, I gotta go get ready for an event, so - hope you enjoyed hearing about my upcoming Thronebreaker fics!

#meve x reynard x gascon #thronebreaker ot3 #thronebreaker #wip wednesday #fic planning #the witcher

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mercuryislove · 3 years

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Don’t hate me but… I kinda want you to answer all of the deep dive WIP asks 🥺 if that’s unreasonable tho, just 2, 9, and 10 please!

I am SORRY for the delay!!! i answered every question for BOTH projects so you're in for like.... several thousand words of shit that makes absolutely no sense, but i hope you you enjoy it! :)

1. Who are two characters that don't like each other? What do they reveal about each other to the readers? Will they ever learn to put aside their differences?

White Crane: okay this is hard because like. so many people do not like each other. (I know I made a post once about how terrible it would be to be one of twenty-eight people that have the power of dead gods but are trapped in stupid human bodies and you're all a thousand years old and hate each other so so so so so much because you all SUCK.) But for the sake of simplicity, I will talk about Ciaran and Sihla who never got along but only played nice to keep Anwei happy. They absolutely do NOT put aside their differences lmao once everything kind of, um, blows up between the three of them, all they want to do is KILL each other. She makes it her life's goal to make him suffer, and he basically loses his sanity in the process of trying to find a way to kill her for good. The beef is unbelievable. ANYWAY, what they reveal about each other is that Ciaran is not nearly as innocent in anything as he likes to pretend and Sihla is not as guilty as everyone says she is. I mean, she is still a terrible person in many ways, but that does not excuse the things he did to her all those years ago. She hates him for many, many good reasons.

Old Blood: Andhira HATES the entire Ekion family, but specifically the oldest son (who does not have an official name yet.... oops). He doesn't much care for her either but is usually too busy trying to better his social standing to worry too much about her. Except when they're in the same room together (which happens semi-regularly because her brother is kind of in love with him lmao). They hate each other for the exact same reason and it's that they're both SO arrogant. They look down on everyone around them (which in Andhira's case is like. fair. She's the firstborn of the two most powerful people on the planet, and the only person that comes close to that level of power is her twin brother who was born a mere fourteen minutes after her) but think the other is completely unjustified in their actions. Really all it reveals to a reader is that they both kind of suck and need to get over themselves because all that behavior does is make people resent you. They only put aside their differences because she does kind of need his help once or twice, but they would gladly spit in each other's face and/or push each other down a flight of stairs in the name of pettiness.

2. What do you hope your readers will take away from your wip? Is there an intentional theme to the story?

These can be answered together! I started writing these stories because I wanted to have fun but they've both kind of morphed into a long-winded way of saying that like. it's okay to be messed up and hate yourself and have major internal struggles because there are people who still love you. I KNOW it doesn't sound like that from uhhhhhh literally everything I've ever said about this stuff but bear with me. The BIG theme is that love is EVERYTHING. All kinds of love. It's the reason to keep on going. You are never alone, even strangers can love you in their own way, etc etc etc etc. Also gay love fucking prevails always and forever.

3. What do you love most about your protagonist?

Yixing is funny and weird and definitely a horse girl and he kind of sucks sometimes because he's stubborn as hell and has terrible people skills and maybe also a drinking problem, but he is kind and empathetic and despite the absolute hell he's lived through, he still sees the good in people and knows that it's easy to make mistakes and that most people deserve second chances in life. Also I like him because he is without a doubt the ideal man and I made him that way on purpose. And god I wish we could drink together. I'm talking stumbling drunk, crying on the bathroom floor, please-hold-my-hair-i'm-about-to-throw-up kind of drinking. We would have a great time being stupid together I think.

Vera is resilient and mean and stubborn and cold and off-putting and hard to get to know, and she sucks for those reasons but it's also why I love her so much. She has also lived through hell and it didn't make her try to see the good in people like Yixing does. It just made her bitter and resentful. She warms up over time, but she fights tooth and nail against it. I also love her so much because she is the archetype of like. the washed up former prodigy that has to return sort of against her will to her old life, and she realizes that she misses it in some ways but also remembers exactly why she left. I would Not want to drink with her (because she doesn't drink anymore), but I would love to take one of her art classes.

4. Is there anything in the story that is implied but not directly stated? Will this become more relevant later on? How perceptive would a reader have to be to pick up on this?

White Crane: This is hard because I'm so invested in my own shit that it feels obvious to me, but I try to lay out a little candy trail that tells the reader that Ciaran and Anwei are Not What They Seem right from the start. It’s hard to explain without specific examples but it’s in the way they talk, they way they interact with other people, the way certain things they say don’t line up, etc etc etc. And there is a Big Hint of what will happen to Ciaran in the second and third installment, but idk if that counts. Also there are definitely implications that Yixing is trans but that's neither here nor there (honestly I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not he should be explicitly trans or if it should be left to reader interpretation because well... I don’t know if I'm capable of writing the nuance of transness because I'm not trans despite my complex and confusing relationship with gender but I'm also not a thirty-something year old Asian man NOR am I a god NOR am I a former vampire hunter NOR am I like. any of the things I write about other than a mean lesbian so. who knows?)

Old Blood: TRUE FANS already know this one, but regular degular readers that haven't participated in funny question friday or read my random late night posting would not immediately know that Josef and the Sovereign were once involved. Basically the only characters in the story that know are Josef, Luka, the Sovereign himself, and Tahire. But there are definitely some hints peppered throughout conversations and perhaps some photos and trinkets that Josef has kept after all this time... It has like no weight on the events of the story but I just think it's fun. Once again I am way too invested to know if it's easy to pick up on or not but I think it takes some theorizing about maybe? Other than that there aren’t any significant secrets.

5. Which character has the most intricate backstory? Is this backstory common knowledge from the start, or is it revealed later on? How does the backstory affect the narrative?

White Crane: this is unfair because some of the characters are almost a thousand years old and some of them are like. 35. I DO have a full timeline written out of the thousand years of history that Ciaran and Anwei have lived through, if that counts as an answer. Like it doesn't have every single day and year, but it has all the big events for sure. Barring that, Yixing definitely has a pretty complex backstory. The man gets around lol and I try (and maybe fail?) to make him seem not too complex initially but then things get revealed and you learn more about him and are like “oh my god no wonder this man has Problems.” Also if he was like. “normal” and perhaps “well-adjusted” the story would not exist at all because he is the way he is and makes some of the stupid decisions he does because of his weird little life.

Old Blood: ONCE AGAIN, this is unfair because the Sovereign is like older than god. And Vera is 37. But like. I haven't fleshed him or any of the old ass vampires out nearly as much as Vera so there's your answer I guess? And I guess the important things are known from the start (that she was a prodigy, that she retired because terrible shit happened and she couldn't handle it, that she suffers from significant ptsd because of it, etc), but there is a lot of detail that doesn't come out until much later when she has to confront her Feelings (ewww feelings). Uh... the backstory affects the narrative because it wouldn't exist at all if Vera wasn't plagued by her fucked up blood nightmares lol

6. Which two characters have the most complicated relationship? How does their relationship develop over time?

White Crane: Ciaran and Anwei totally. They love each other because they're brother and sister and were all the other had for a VERY long time (and even when they were still uh mortal, they relied on each other constantly), but also they hate each other because they're brother and sister. You know how it is with siblings. I love my brother and sister to pieces but I can't imagine being immortal and having to put up with the both of them for all eternity (sorry guys if you are reading this somehow.... I love you but we are all so annoying god bless). They handled their newfound godhood very, very, very differently and it kind of colors their relationship for the rest of time. There were times where they were extremely codependent and other times where they didn't speak to each other for DECADES. At the start of our story, they're on much better terms and have buried all their hatchets, but it doesn't take much for that to change....

Old Blood: Probably Vera and Andhira? They're only brought together because of their shared fucked up blood nightmares, and neither of them like that thought. They both resent the other for everything they are, and Vera is pretty much completely hostile to Andhira about it for a long time (and Andhira is only just barely cordial lol), but obviously a significant part of the plot revolves around them like. falling in love so they DO get over it after a while :)

7. What is the most heart-wrenching scene in your wip? Why?

White Crane: When Yixing fucking DIES. I feel like this one should be self-explanatory. But I mean if you would like further explanation, it's unpleasant and slow and agonizing and nobody can do anything to stop it (haha....... unless?) so Ciaran gets to hold him for a long time and feel really bad about it lol

Old Blood: idk if there are any really heart-wrenching scenes but there are definitely some miserable and uncomfortable scenes like where Vera relives in vivid detail the days that she witnessed the gruesome deaths of her young apprentice and her last lover. They're upsetting because those are the two days that basically ruined her life (and one was the final straw that sent her spiraling completely out of control) and it's painful to watch her have to live with the guilt of what happened even if it wasn't her fault.

8. What is a song that you associate with your wip? Explain.

White Crane: not to be basic but absolutely without a doubt in my stupid mind “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears lol it's because uh. well. Everybody wants to rule the world right? Basically way back in 2019 when I was crafting the ideas for the dnd campaign that became this thing instead, I was definitely having a metal gear moment (honestly I’m about to have a metal gear moment NOW lol) and was listening to a lot of like. mgs adjacent music and latched onto this song (and also promises, promises by naked eyes lmao) as some like thematic element. Like my brain making amvs. You know how it is. ANYWAY the point is. The concept was originally way different and was supposed to be more about the immediate aftermath of the so-called end of the world (yes Yixing was still there and yes he was still just some guy), and it focused a lot more on power struggles between all of these insane people that were granted godhood in the wake of the dying world. Which........ is something I'd like to write about at some point because it's intriguing in its own way but at the time I was unequipped to write about that when I really just wanted to write about people who are, for all intents and purposes, quite average getting caught up in the batshit drama of higher powers. (fun fact: Ciaran was supposed to be a tyrant king that ran a death cult and Anwei and Yixing were working together to figure out a way to kill him. Which is. Kind of what my dnd campaign is like now lol BASICALLY he's like if Big Boss was unkillable and could also rip souls out of people's bodies and eat them. I absolutely do not remember what this question originally was. Something about a song?)

Old Blood: THIS is the reason it took me so long to answer this whole thing. I thought long and hard and looked through all my playlists and listened to random songs that came to mind but it turns out the song I was looking for was right in front of me the whole time. DUH. It's “Golden Light” by Twin Shadow :) In my humble homo interpretation, I think it's a song about being afraid to fall in love and. Well. That's the whole point. Also #spoilers but the first time Vera sees Andhira and is like “oops I think I have feelings” is when they've just arrived at Andhira's home and the sun is rising and she looks over at her as they stand at the top of a hill and she has her eyes closed to the sun and she's bathed in golden light and OOUGGGGHGHHH poetic cinema. (honorable mention goes to “Groove is in the Heart” by Deee-lite because it’s quintessential early 90s music that Vera would be super into)

9. What does your protagonist want most? What would they do to achieve this? What is something they wouldn't do to achieve this?

White Crane: Yixing wants to be happy for once. Like actually really happy instead of just. getting by. There's a scene where they're making wishes for the next seasons during the summer solstice and someone asks what he wants and he's like “uh I guess I want to still be alive at the end of the year?” and the other person is like “isn't that what everyone wants? Raise the fucking bar please. What do you REALLY want?” and he's stands there for a really long time and thinks about it before finally saying “I think I just want to be happy for once” and everyone else is like. wow. Way to kill the fucking mood dude. Anyway. He has had fleeting moments of happiness in his life but wants nothing more than to feel that way forever. It's kind of hard to say what he wouldn't do for that because like. there's not really much you CAN do in the first place, so I feel like there's even less you couldn't do. I guess he wouldn't like sell his soul to the devil or something lmao (though by being involved with Ciaran he's pretty much halfway there)

Old Blood: to be left alone. Vera just wants a normal life. She really truly does want to pretend that none of the horrible shit happened to her and that she was never a world-famous hunter. And she wants to teach art classes and live a quiet life!!! I mean, she is already mostly doing that exact thing when we first meet her, but obviously she has some hindrances (aka fucked up blood nightmares). She is begrudgingly helping Andhira because she assumes that will fix her problem and that she'll be able to get to that quiet living as soon as all is said and done. The only thing she really wouldn't do to get what she wants is like... live somewhere far away from Josef and Luka lol She likes having them close by more than she wants to be left alone.

10. Within your story's world, were there any events that impacted every character (or most characters)? How would they be different if this event never happened? (Alternatively, erase an important even from on character's backstory and imagine where they'd be now.)

White Crane: well. If the stupid old gods didn't all kill themselves and almost end the world then I guess none of this story would exist lol But the actual answer is like. If Yixing had never run out on his girlfriend of ten years then he wouldn't have moved across the continent to Jengmi and wouldn't have made a name for himself way out there and wouldn't have been scouted and recruited and wouldn't have met Ciaran or Anwei and wouldn't have gotten in the middle of the batshit grudge between a bunch of ancient petty gay people and wouldn't have DIED and wouldn't have made one of the ancient petty gay people in particular lose his grip on his humanity via a lust for power in a desperate attempt to guarantee his safety and wouldn't have been the reason that tens of thousands of people die in his name and wouldn't have accidentally set off a chain of events that resulted in him having to hunt down and kill the Actual God that started it all in a fit of jealous rage. So like. maybe he should have just gone through with the wedding. All things considered, his life would have been way less stressful.

Old Blood: uhhh, that's tough because the stuff that happens only really has any effect on the mortal characters (I mean yeah people still try to kill the Sovereign but they're too dumb to know the ACTUAL way to kill him.... haha unless??), so it would be more like a what if Vera didn't witness the violent deaths of both her apprentice and her lover and have a full blown nervous breakdown and abandon her career? Well...... I think most things in the plot would transpire more or less the same, except she would be WAY less pissed off about it. In fact, she would probably be hyped as hell to get the chance to make the acquaintance of the Sovereign's family like Josef had before her. The thought of Vera being upbeat and not a sleep-deprived asshole that hates being dragged back to her old life..... ew. Not that I enjoy her suffering but you know what I mean. It just wouldn't be the same.

11. What is something from your wip that you just really want to ramble about?

Are you sure you're ready for this. This is going to be so so so so long I'm sorry in advance. It's Saturday night and I'm alone and kind of sad so I'm just going to let loose.

As I hone down plot elements for next two installments in my little trilogy, I have kind of become obsessed with the passage of time and how different it must feel to someone that, well, lives forever. One of the ways I'd written (that has since been kind of changed) for Yixing to start to figure out what Ciaran really is was that he would casually be looking through his bookshelf and find an old photograph of Ciaran, Anwei, and their mom standing backstage together after one of his performances. And when he eventually asks Ciaran about it, he gets upset because how dare you touch the one thing I have left to remember my mother? To remember what my life used to be like? There are so many names and faces and places and foods and sensations that I've forgotten in the 940 years I've lived like this and I would give anything I have to see any of it just one more time because I didn't know that the last time I would ever speak to my mom we would have an argument on the phone about how I need to go to the temple and pray for good fortune on my birthday, or that the last time I would ever see my best friend would be at 6am when we both came into the studio to practice and he asked me to go out to breakfast and I said no because I thought a nap would be more important. And there are so many people that I've watched die whose names I never learned and whose faces I forgot the moment I turned away, and there are so many others that I loved so dearly that I had to leave behind because they grew old and I didn't. And I have lived lifetimes in solitude to keep myself a secret from other people and I have died more than any person should ever have to die and I have witnessed atrocities no one should ever witness and I hate everything about this life so much but I love everything about this life so much and I wouldn’t trade it for anything but I think I would give it all away in an instant if only to remember the scent of my mother's favorite perfume and I think I would give it all away in an instant if it meant I didn't have to watch you turn to dust in my arms.

ANYWAY. I think a lot about the agony of loving things that aren't permanent and how it really DOES drive you mad because lately I have been unbelievably nostalgic for certain things that weren't even that long ago but..... I didn't appreciate them at the time and I feel so guilty about it. (And like. I too would give up my entire life to be able to remember the scent of my grandmother's favorite perfume.) And all my pent-up sadness is for things that only happened in my childhood. I have pictures and videos and other people to share those memories with, but what does it feel like to be one of very few people that watched the entire world fall apart and rebuild itself and have nothing to hold onto from that time? What does it feel like to foster dozens of generations of children and outlive every single one of them? What does it feel like to have only fragments of memories of entire lifetimes? How lonely is it? I mean, Ciaran and Anwei have each other and that makes a difference but it still has to be the most isolating feeling. And then there's the pain that comes with memories that have faded or otherwise become hazy. I doubt either of them remember their father's face. They hadn't seen him in years even before it all happened. If it wasn't for that single photo he has, they wouldn't remember their mother's face either. Do they still remember her name? Or her birthday? Do they remember anyone else? Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, coworkers? If they do, do they even want to talk about it? One thing I worry about in my own life (and this is how I know I have Problems) is that I'm so afraid that talking about memories will alter them somehow. There are so many things that I don't even like to share because once the words are spoken the little vhs tape that has all my memories has been recorded over, even if it's just by a single frame. Something about it has been changed forever each time I talk about it. Do they feel the same way and keep things to themselves instead of sharing the sadness? I think maybe they used to talk about the “old days” or whatever much more often back in the past, but as the years went by.... they just learned to keep it to themselves.

I think maybe I have a lot of anxiety about the passage of time and of being forgotten!

Anyway again. The passage of time drives me insane. And I think it would make me even more insane if I had been chosen to carry the mantle of a dead god and would live forever. My dog died a year ago and I still cry like every single day thinking about her. If I was doomed to live forever I don't know how the sadness wouldn't swallow me whole! No wonder all the people in this book are fucking CRAZY!!

And don't even get me started on the Sovereign lol he's like “oh boo-hoo you've lived for not even a thousand years? Bitch they hadn't invented fucking GLASS yet when I was born. The horse wasn't domesticated yet. Cry harder!!”

#oc talk #4000 words later!!!!!#uh i hope this makes ANY sense at all lol #i wrote the responses to all of these at like 1am last night and the night before so. you'll have to forgive me if they're stupid

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rurifangirl · 3 years

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chile, could ya explain the magic system in yo oc world more? im kinda confused w how it works👁👄👁

Oh boy, here we go bitches.

So as an intro to this, I said bout last oc post in Qiran's part that their fam was full of mages n shit, but also some of em weren't, n since they do have magic istelf Imma do more parts (3 parts)

First part- how does It all work (Humans/Mages)

First of all, not all of em have a connection with magic, for example Evelyn doesn't at all while Lyva does but only through a magical item so It doesn't really count.

Other then that, if you're born you can either be born with some kind of magic, or simply not. It all depends from your family's lineage, for example If you come from a family of mainly rougues it's hard to get some kind of magical power, while if your parents have both some kind of power or even if it's only one of em, it's more likely you'll end up with something really similar, or a mixture of the two. (In case both of your parents have magical powers of any sort.)

It also depends on where you're living, for example If you'd be born from a cold place it's unlikely ya'd have magma magic rather than snow magic.

Between humans/mages the system Is kinda the same, but that does change for Hybrids/Demi gods/anything that isn't born between the same species.

Between humans/mages it's more of how their ancestors managed to treat its powers, as some got even destroyed for not being worthy of its usage, so If anything at this point and time they're lucky about getting somethin.

Mages are far more cautious about It, having both a lot of hidden knowlege about spells or even origins of some types of magic, though that being the most "common" ones, (for example fire, water ect.), because it's not only them of course, there's far more variants and all are different from eachother.

They can also get stronger by the worshipping of certain gods, which I don't think I will really talk about, at least in this post. (And also because they're still a wip of mine)

But the gang until now really never relied on any of them, or at least Lyva/Rui n Naexi never really did, while the others absolutely did. This Is also why I will do another post as a sorta of a part 2.

Anyways back on topic, most people in all parts of my oc world aren't used to worshipping anymore, or at least a great part of It, mainly because of a loss of knowlege about anything about them.

It's kind of taboo even mentioning most gods names, as they fear something will go wrong if they would (*ahem*being suspicious n allarmin the cult*AHEM*). In fact it's hard to get on most religions because the only remains of It are extremely either hidden, or destroyed in the meanwhile.

I wanna say that another reason because the worshipping stopped Is also because of Rui's cult. Yes, remember that?

It's gonna be talked about on its own post, but let's just say that for them, it's a safe way to restrain anyone knowing far too much about how everything works.

They're the only ones owning most stuff about different coltures to avoid having them against their side,

If there's no worshippers, no knowlege, n more weak magic because people don't strengthen them, who's gonna go against em? (It'll turn out to be the shittiest idea they've ever had but that really did work for the longest time.)

Oh I think i forgot to mention this, but since magic goes lineage to lineage, It also weakenens as generations pass by, as THAT'S the reason they absolutely need those texts.

That's also the reason most humans struggle w keepin magic. Mages can manage, though it's a small portion, since sometimes not even what they've learned over generations works anymore.

Second part- how does It all work (Hybrids/Demi gods n stuff)

Oh boy, so, I'm also gonna use Shou n Naexi a lot here, so bear w me. As I said earlier, it's different from em, since it's not about lineage at all.

Apart that the union between different species Is both a taboo n seen as something "ashaming",so even if they had a child It was more likely they'd Hide It or leave It behind. So it's already a really, god-awful situation for them.

The magic works kinda randomly, in the sense that since the hybrid's nature is seen as unstable to begin w, there's no real critere to handle how the child born Is gonna turn out to be.

Sometimes it's really hard to notice, having yeah some features but can be hidden really easly, but other times Is just, a real mess between the two species, n the magic Is also uncontrollable, especially during their first years of life.

For example, in Shou's case he used to really switch a lot between em, that being the reason he later on prefers not to switch, n havin to learn as soon as possible how to learn how his magic n form would work w It, having again a lot of preassure comin from people he knew.

This Is unfortunatly a really common situation between most hybrids. And there's also no choise.

If you as an hybrid can control magic w/o anything to rely on then you can live, while if you cannot do It, it's a matter of time before you'd get zoned out by everyone and everything.

This Is a big issue, other than having everything fucked by the cult but that's another story.

Aight now bout demi-gods, they're also really not seen well. Most of them prefer not to interact at all with anything that Is not godly related, and in fact, most of em even refused to adknowledge their mortal parent, since they all have resentment over the sudden disappereance of all belivers.

If anything Naexi Is a weird one at that, as they did have a suddent interest in humans and ungodly creatures, though still recognized about how cruel any of them could've been, especially she's a demi-god and has a bad reputation at that.

The magic system Is relatively simple, they just get a certain amount of power from their god parent and are actually pretty capable of controlling them in confront of Hybrids.

That mainly comes from a special connection w their god parent's power, so in theory they're sort of devoted to them.

I wanna expand this when I'll do the gods post n finnaly introduce some of em (And potentially Naexi's mother👀), so I'll not go beyond this atm.

Third part- Magical items/weapons

Aight onto another important part, which Is basically how tf would that work. We have that comin from Qiran's sword n Lyva's earrings, so they'll also be later on disscussed bout.

Even though it's a tough and long procedure, you can transport some of your own magic onto somethin as ordinary as an hat or as sharp as a dagger.

This Is being mainly used in emergency situations, as that energy can eventually be re-used later on by its user.

The user can be changed as long as there's a deal between both parties, whether that being a gift, buying It, or anythin up to them really.

It can also be a great way to hide mage's power, since there are some parts where they arent exactly that respected, so they could blend in with normal humans.

In fact, Qiran does that continiously thanks to their sword, daggers and other lil weapons, and they keep a big part of It there, to seem rather a normal knight/adventurer rather than havin somethin supernatural goin on.

They have a great holdo it since their father did make them learn to fulfill their request to be freerly goin round.

With Lyva it's not really different, even if she kinda stole It n there wasn't really a deal at that moment, but before runnin away from everyone n everything she convinced her mother to give her something that she could use to defend herself, since they were never around and when they were, they would've kinda avoided her.

Oh, and to add this, you could also curse an item. It's a way to mainly punish since ,well, it's a curse,

and makes the user either completely obsessed with the object itself or makin them do somethin w/o any type of consent, whether physical or emotional.

In some cases It can also be a torture tool. Though, as some recent stuff happened, they're somewhat hard to find.

If you still have somethin unclear lemme know cuz idk If I covered everythin or if somethin ain't clear enough😭

Tags undercut:

@a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @dopesaladlady @damnfoxx @audre-falrose @nadi-117

(If you want your tag removed/added either dm me/go in the ask thing or do the tag thingy in the pinned comment‼️)

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mego42 · 3 years

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would absolutely love to hear more about your annie x greg wip *eyes emoji*

i miiiiight’ve posted part of this before? idk. i got the idea for this one during the good girrls rewatch @pynkhues organized over the vague fuzzy period of time that was idk fall? winter? ANYWAY annie and greg have these lovely quiet beats in the middle of their nonsense where their history is so palpable and i am nothing if not an absolute SAP for poignant ex stuff so I wanted to do a series of snapshot moments within the eps with beats before, during and after their affair but i never got further than the first one. i might go back and finish it though bc i lowkey love them.

1x04

God, these quiet moments are the worst.

The ones where the laughter trails off, fading into something quiet and fond, and Greg looks at her that way. The way where she can see through the years, and fights, and broken hearts, all the way back to the beginning when they were just stupid kids and she really, truly believed the dumb shit she’d think like I’m going to be with you forever.

Except Annie knew it wasn’t even true back then because back then, she already knew forever was bullshit, and people didn't really mean it when they said that kind of stuff, and even if they did, even if they stayed, it wasn’t always a good thing.

And even back then she’d make some dumb joke, something to snap her out of it and break the moment. Put some space between them because back then, when he’d look at her like this, she’d see marriage and commitment and like, fuck if she knows, clean sheets and matching duvets. Brunch. A bunch of things and words and concepts that sound good on the surface but don’t actually mean anything underneath.

It’s the kind of shit that Beth’s all about; shit she’d tell Annie their mom was all about—or at least Beth used to before she (finally) realized Annie had less than zero interest in hearing what it was like in the good old days of stocked fridges and family dinners and parents.

It didn’t matter anyway. That’s the kind of life Annie knows, knew, has always known she abso-fucking-lutely does not want. She may not remember what things were like before...just, before, but she’d seen what it was like after. She’d memorized the exact shape of the closed door to their mother’s bedroom, barely had to try to call to mind how the light fell across it at any given time of day—rippling over the panel inlay, glinting off of the doorknob, illuminating the tight seam along the door jam.

And she was right, wasn’t she? Beth had been bound and determined to follow in their mother’s footsteps—Annie’d known it even back then, had found the bridal magazines Beth had dogeared and shoved under her bed, had told her this was stupid, she was stupid, Dean was stupid, and he wasn’t going to fix anything—and, well.

It’s not like Annie’d been wrong.

But, yeah. When Greg looks at her like that, all their history strung between them like polaroids pinned to a clothesline; it makes something in Annie twist up and ache because he’s looking at her like what they had was something real, but that’s almost worse than nothing at all because Annie knows it was a lie.

So she makes that dumb joke and it snaps them out of it, same as it always does, and the remember what they’re here for: their kid, the one pretty great thing they’ve done between them. The one thing Annie’s managed not to screw up so far. And fuck, that’s not a safe line of thought either because Annie can feel it, that teetering on the edge sense of everything being moments from crashing down, and knows she’s about to fuck this up too.

check out the nightmare factory that is my wips folder and if you want ask me about one

#every time i open this doc i'm like oh right i love this i should keep going #but then i don't #why brain why #wip tag game #my fic #ask me stuff #shut up meg #aadmelioraa

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blarrghe · 3 years

Text

Wip Wednesday

thanks @morganlefaye79 for taggin me! This is something I’ve had ready to shove into Twelve Nights for a while now, and it’s a little heavy-handed but I also think it’s maybe the most important point this (ultimately very fluffy) story makes, and preachy DA character therapizing is pretty on brand for me at this point. So CW for discussions of trauma and addiction, because I aint about to romanticize that shit lol if I introduce a character with a somewhat tropey substance problem we go there. Anyway this is an incredibly long snippet but if you read nothing else from this particular fic, I think you should read this.

Under a cut -- alcoholism/addiction, the ways conversion therapy fucks a person up.

as well as some mutuals if y’all wanna: @midnightprelude @aymayzing @fandomn00blr @protect-him @barbex I love seeing your wips :)

"Hey," Taren spoke slowly, concern crossing his brows like it did sometimes, when he looked at him, "I don't know how to ask this, but," a very loud voice in the back of Dorian's head told him to shout “so don't!”. He managed to restrain it. Taren shifted his weight and played with his lackluster hair while he figured out how to ask the thing that Dorian already knew he was worried about. "Is this okay?"

"You mean, am I okay." Dorian corrected, as he took a sip of the whiskey. It was delicious. Everything was delicious; stupidly wonderful and probably a dream, and they needn’t talk about things that weren’t.

Taren nodded, the concern still swimming in his gaze. "You don't have a…"

"A problem," Dorian supplied, finishing the thought for him while Taren swallowed, "with alcohol."

"Sera said you were in rehab." Taren was apologetic again, looking away with his hand back in his hair. Dorian laughed, because he couldn't help himself, but it just made the concern in Taren's brows deepen. He attempted to reign it in. He supposed he would just have to do this conversation Taren's way: honest.

"I was. Several times actually, but my problem's never been with alcohol." He picked a few more things off the cart while he spoke — apricot brandy, gin, and vermouth — pouring them in careful measure into a tall, stainless steel cocktail shaker. "It's with attention." He winked. Just because the conversation had to be honest didn't mean he had to give up all his charms. "You see, I've made some very unhealthy, very loud, very irresponsible cries for it. In response to which my parents usually tried to throw me into someplace expensive with nice clean white walls and scenic views, to fix me."

He picked out a wonderfully green lime from the selection of citrus fruits in a little glass bowl on the cart and began rolling it against the cutting board.

"They've spent an outrageous amount of money, trying to get other people to help me be normal." Taren was frowning at him, so he went on looking at the lime.

There was a small, silicone knife that matched the cutting board tucked into a special spot on the cart. He picked it up and sliced the lime in half, lengthwise, and gave its middle a little slit.

"Sometimes there would be a measure of religious fervour to go with: control your demons through strict routine and mind numbing repetition of verses! Doesn’t work, by the way, and anyone who says it does has more illicit secrets to keep than I do. But the quacks parroting fixes with pseudoscientific backing were the worst.” he shook his head, unable to contain a dark grimace from escaping at even this most casual retelling. “The last time though, I did actually learn something rather helpful." Taren came closer, and took a seat on the arm of the long leather couch closest to him, still watching Dorian with a careful frown as he told his story and sliced his lime. "There was this therapist, beautiful man," he looked up from the lime, catching Taren's frown and doing his best to counter it with a sly smile. "Understood right away what I was really in for —" he smiled at Taren again, dragging as much syrupy charm through the words as he possibly could, "that is, being attracted to men, not drugs or alcohol." Taren blushed, and satisfied, Dorian went back to fixing his drink, "we struck up a wonderful little friendship, or as much of one as therapists can have with the mad, I suppose."

"Did you…" There was a hesitancy to Taren's speech that was different from the last, less concerned, and barbed with something. Was it jealousy? And if so, what did it say about him that he quite enjoyed it?

"No." He said truthfully, "that would have been most unethical. I don't even think he was interested, if you can believe it. Didn't stop me from daydreaming of course — rehab is terribly boring. But no, nothing happened except talk. Therapeutic talk; he told me about rats."

"Rats?"

Dorian finished slicing one half of the lime into perfect little crescents, then squeezed out the other half into the shaker. "Lab rats with addictions to opiates." He clarified, "the Cage Theory of Addiction: give a rat a terrible little cage with a nice little lever that injects a drug straight into his little rat veins, and he'll keep pressing and pressing that lever until he dies." Taren looked upset; Dorian closed the shaker and screwed its cap tightly on, and continued, "the rat has a food lever too, but he ignores it, pressing and pressing for that magical buzz. More and more; more than he can handle. An addict." He picked out a short glass and swiped the rim of it with one of his slices of lime, then overturned it into a perfectly sized little vessel of sugar that was set out on the cart. "But, someone thought: let's do an experiment, and instead of just giving the rat a lever for food and a lever for the drug, they gave him a little rat city. With fun rat playgrounds and soft rat pillows and a few other nice rats to talk to. Guess what happened next."

Taren just looked at him, not guessing. Dorian tutted and gave the shaker a dramatic spin, shook it, and then popped the lid back off to pour the concoction into the glass. "The little opiate-addicted rat got better. So comes the theory: the rat's problem wasn't the drugs; it was his cage." Taren nodded slowly, and Dorian left the drink cart to join him on the couch. He passed Taren the fresh cocktail with another sly smile, and took a seat. “I looked it up later; read the study myself because I am an insufferable know-it-all,” he went on, “and it turns out that my beautiful therapist had some of his facts wrong.” Now, Taren just looked confused, but if Dorian was going to be honest with him, he was going to be really honest. “No one’s replicated the findings — and it turns out the rats also started having little rat orgies, so that probably helped.” He laughed, though Taren still looked mostly confused. Dorian took a breath. “But, there was a truth there that no one had bothered to tell me before: sometimes the reason why is worse than the thing itself. Sometimes a change in thinking, a change of scenery…” he paused, “someone to talk to,” another pause, longer this time — he’d lost his will to make light of it, somewhere in there. “I’m not a bad person, I know that now.” he said, more quietly than he meant to, "but I live," he placed his glass of whiskey carefully down on the coffee table, and let himself look Taren in the eye, "in a very terrible little cage. And I've done things, things I'm not proud of, just to try to… escape." He shrugged, and picked up his drink again, "but these days, I've more or less settled in. Figured out how to be a productive little rat who doesn't take more than he can handle, usually." He took a sip of his drink, directing a hooded smoulder at Taren as he did, and downing most of it — getting drunk and doing it very much on purpose, "only rattling the bars on weekends, so to speak."

#yes this is still unhealthy but like there's...more #pavellan #dorian pavus #my fic #wip wednesday #alcohol cw #also this analogy is a Real Thing you can look it up #presented here as accurately as possible #drugs cw

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memoriashell · 3 years

Text

the luck of the draw ( surely is not in her favor )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), ft. ( some of ) Class 78

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day two of @tokomaruweek, i'm combining the killing game and talentswap prompts!! it’s still before midnight i’m totally not late at all here,

featuring my totally not original talent / roleswap luck student komaru au. because creativity is dead and i think komaru being stuck in a killing game is ??? when you think about the fact that komaru canonically sees ghosts. you KNOW she ends up possessed by one of the dead students in the last trial bc someone wants to say fuck you to the mastermind :/ also the fact that syo remembers shit but just never says anything feels like great potential!! they just want to love their partner but toko won’t let them front this is homphobia /j

anyways this au just lives in my wips rent free bc i keep changing my mind on how i want things to play out anyways. so this is more of a concept and not canon to that au if i ever finish it and that's also why this takes place in ch1 so i don't gotta think too hard on the details <3 any talents brought up are the ones i'm for sure sticking with.

tws for touko's general paranoia / anxiety / etc, mentions of murder bc kg au, and also since i usually depict syo as nonbinary with they/them pronouns, komaru’s technically accidentally misgendering them from her pov bc she doesn’t/can’t tell that syo is fronting, in case that bothers you!!

Summary: for being chosen on the basis of luck, it doesn't feel like she's ever going to catch a break here.

It’s quiet, this morning.

Not that she really knows any better— they’ve only been trapped in the school with the murder bear for a few days, after all. So maybe Komaru’s focusing on the wrong part.

It’s less that it’s quiet, there’s a few faces missing that she’d have expected to get there before her. Especially since she’d managed to sleep through her alarm again and had been kind of late; she had fully expected to be greeted with a lecture as soon as she’d gotten to the dining hall. Alright, one person specifically that stands out in her mind, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed by her that Fukawa’s not there yet. Weird, given the moral compass had lectured her for being tardy to meet up with everyone on their first day, and then for sleeping in the first morning, but...given the videos that bear had shown them the previous day, she supposes she can’t blame some people to feel reluctant to show up. Maybe that’s where she is? Going around to check on people? She had seemed a little paranoid that people were skipping out on gathering in the morning on purpose...

( Because she really, really doesn’t want to think about the possibility that Fukawa, or any of her other classmates might possibly be dead. That someone would have actually gone through with trying to kill one another? So she simply won’t think about that fact. It feels kind of like a Pavlovian...no, wait, that’s the wrong person. Uh. Freudian theory? Ah! Schrödinger’s cat. Yeah, that kind of scenario )

Okay, that settles it! She should probably have breakfast first, and if Fukawa hasn’t shown up by the time she finishes, she’ll go see if she can find her. Besides, she’s sure they aren’t the only ones who are concerned about the ones that haven’t shown up. Maizono seemed super nice ( unsurprisingly ), so maybe if she’s still hanging out in the dining hall, Komaru can convince her to help her in her search! Now that she thinks about it, she can probably ask anyone that comes by the dining hall for any leads.

...But why does she care so much in the first place? It’s not like she doesn’t care about the others: even the ones already dead— she can’t place why exactly she feels attached to people she barely knew, but she’s always been pretty sentimental. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the way Fukawa seems to try so hard to be close to people in one moment, and then so distant in the next.

In any case, standing in front of the fridge and spacing out is probably far from a good idea, besides the obvious fact that she’s in the way— she doesn’t even notice that someone has decided to take advantage of her distracted state to pull the wool over her eyes. Er, the hoodie of her jacket, technically.

She’s hardly gotten a chance to push the hood back before a hand comes down on her head to ruffle her hair. Or, well, she presumes that is his intention, even if the gesture comes off as more of a light noogie. She puffs her cheeks out in a pout, glaring up while the other smirks down at her. “‘Sup, squirt? Falling asleep on yer feet, or is there another reason yer zoning out in the middle of the kitchen?” The baseball star tosses an apple in his hand like one would with a ball, and she considers lightly kicking Oowada’s ankles in retaliation.

“Just thinking. You probably shouldn’t play with your food like that though.” She responds, and he makes a face at her.

“Ah, so ya do still got something still rattlin’ in that tiny head of yours, good. Worried I knocked everything outta ya.” He teases, reaching past her to open the fridge door. “An’ why would you do that to yerself? It’s still too early in the mornin’ fer that shit.”

“Well...I’m just a little worried. There are fewer people hanging out in the dining hall this morning.” She admits.

He scowls. “Pretty sure they’re just antsy ‘cause of that damn bear ‘nd if any of them have a lick of sense in ‘em they’ll be busy looking fer a way out or somethin’. Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head about it.”

“...Yeah, I guess.” She can’t help but worry, but her concern isn’t exactly going to help right now, at any rate. Maybe she’ll just find something that she can take with her to eat. “Oh! But speaking of that, did you happen to see Fukawa-san on your way here? I would’ve thought she would have stayed around here this morning, honestly.”

“Her? Mm, yeah, heard her and Ishimaru goin’ at it in the halls earlier—”

“They were what?” Before he can finish his sentence, Asahina’s voice cuts in from behind her, pitch breaking midspeech.

“Fighin’! They were jus’ yelling at each other! N...Not anything weird!” Oowada backtracks in a panic when he realizes how poorly his wording could be misconstrued, even if such a thought never occurred to her. “Jeeze, ya think the Public Morals chick would engage in that shit? Not that I don’t think she might be a bit hypocritical with her rules ‘nd shit but—”

“No! No, I don’t! That’s why I was asking!” Asahina retorts with a huff, and while they bicker, Komaru takes this as an opportunity to slink out of the kitchen with a slice of toast. Unfortunately, Maizono seems to have left in that span of time, but the Clairvoyant happens to be sitting alone, so she figures she might see if she has anything interesting to contribute.

Enoshima opens an eye to stare at her upon hearing her footsteps, presumably, and before Komaru can even greet her, she speaks, monotone. “Four.”

Whatever question you’d planned to say dies in your throat, instead sputtering out a bewildered, “H-Huh?”

“It’s your lucky number for the day.” She sounds bored, as if she’d been stating the obvious, instead of some cryptic statement.

“...Isn’t that the number of death?” She is less certain of herself than she wants to be, ignoring the shiver that runs down her back upon realizing this.

Enoshima grins at that, for reasons she doesn’t understand; cheery voice a total 180 from what it’d been moments ago. “Well, perhaps it means you’ll be having a meeting with death today? Probably about time someone kicked the bucket, someone was bound to snap sooner or later... I’m sure your luck will kick in though, right? But I’ll wish you good luck anyways!”

“Thank you...?” Is that the appropriate response here? She’s not sure, but it’s probably not worth lingering on any longer than she already has, and decides with a rising urgency that maybe she should find Fukawa.

Although, recounting the conversation in the kitchen, she wonders if she should check on Ishimaru as well. Neither of them really struck Komaru as the kind to fight ( with their fists, at least, Fukawa’s mouth seemed set on picking a fight half the time ), so to say she was a little concerned might be an understatement. Given the writer had a tendency to be more openly friendly she could probably get a straight...well, an honest answer from him as to what had happened.

But she wanders for what feels like ages, and doesn’t have any luck ( haha, the irony ) in finding any hint as to where either of them might have gone, and decides to stick to her efforts to find Fukawa first. Ishimaru seemed like the type to be more resilient, so maybe she can catch him around their next meal time. If he didn’t lose track of time again, at least...

Ugh, she’d kill to honestly run into anyone around here. Not literally kill, obviously, but for reasons she’s been trying to keep quiet on, she really hates wandering the halls alone: or most places that they can access right now, to be honest. She keeps seeing this one ghost this one ghost in particular ( or at least Komaru is pretty sure she’s a ghost ), but she refuses to acknowledge her hanging around because that would be weird, and she would like to seem normal and if someone saw that it’d be a hassle to explain.

Fortunately, her search finally turns up fruitful when she finds Fukawa spacing out in the A/V room.

...Unfortunately for her, finding Fukawa earns her a pretty close brush with death. In the blink of an eye, a pair of scissors are thrust against her throat, pinning her back against the moment she steps into the room.

Oh. Uh. Oh god? Was Enoshima actually right about that? Her breath catches in her throat and for a moment, she wonders who would find her if she was killed here. Would they care? What about her parents— Makoto?

Would they sigh and just ponder if she’d ever been lucky at all?

And just as quick, the cold metal is pulled away from where it rests against her neck. “Oh. It’s just you.” The words are spoken with more warmth than she can ever recall hearing Fukawa speak with, which is really weird considering what just went down.

Ever so smartly, Komaru doesn’t actually process what is said to her, and responds with, “Isn’t that technically against the rules?”

A thin eyebrow is raised at her, scissors being tucked away under her shirt. Uh. “No? That’s what they want, right? Or are you so naive that you think that everyone would really follow the rules?”

Well. She’s probably not entirely wrong in thinking that she’s naive, but... “Isn’t, uhm. Isn’t that your thing, though? The rules?”

Fukawa looks startled to have this pointed out to her, for some reason. “Oh, hahaha, yeah. T-Totally! I was just...uh, testing you.”

Okay, now she’s just downright acting strange? Komaru’s willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe she’s just acting odd because the videos are weighing on her mind. They are in the AV room, after all. Something doesn’t add up though, but she can’t quite place what it is...

Komaru opens her mouth to ask the other a question, but when she looks back over at Fukawa, her expression has gone kind of...distant? Hazy? She doesn’t quite know how to describe it, and begins to ask if she’s feeling okay when the other girl sort of...collapses into her, arms going around her loosely. She panics a little because that can’t be a sign of anything good, right? Is she feeling dizzy? She’s not passed out, and at least she’s breathing normally. She’s surprisingly pretty light, so it’s not like it’s really an issue to just help support her until she feels better.

The only warning that she gets is the feeling of the other girl tensing up before Fukawa suddenly bolts upright and shoves herself away. Komaru frowns a little, not because of the sudden change in attitude ( if anything, she finds that strangely reliving ), but moreso out of concern, attempting to reach her hands out to help steady her on her feet, but gets her hands slapped away before she can do so. “Don’t touch me.” She hisses.

Okay she’d be lying if she said that didn’t sting, but she can’t help but laugh for a moment. “Ahaha— sorry, I’m not laughing at you. For a moment there, you seemed like a completely different person! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Fukawa-san.” If she were more aware of the situation, she might feel more guilty for being unintentionally insensitive: but as she doesn't, she simply misses the way the other looks nervous for a moment while she wonders what that had been all about ( but can’t quite gather the nerve to actually ask ).

“Y-Yeah, real likely story. You just...just came to l-laugh at me in a moment of weakness, r-r-right?” She glares, hands clenched. “I know your type! No one is...is actually that nice w-without some kind of ulterior motive.”

Is that what she actually thinks about me?

“No! I really am glad to see you’re feeling better. You really had me scared there for a minute.” She says sincerely, offering her a reassuring smile. “If you want, I’ll listen to whatever’s bothering you. It’ll stay between us.”

Fukawa scowls, watching her for a long minute with a guarded expression. “There w-was something on the, uh, disc that Monokuma gave you, right? Just like— like everyone else?”

Huh? Well, if this is what it takes to get her trust, then she supposes she can talk about it... “Yeah. It was my parents and my older brother. It’s...kinda scary to think about, honestly. What about you, Fukawa-san? Was it also your family?”

“No. M-M-Mine was blank. Because...because there was no one to choose. Or so he says.” Her jaw is clenched. “Of course, I had to— I acted like I was the same as everyone else, b-because it’d be strange if I didn’t, right? You’d think I was, was working with them or something...everyone would really hate me after th-yhat.”

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure Togami-san didn’t even blink an eye...?” She tries to bring up as a counterpoint, but apparently she has more to say.

“A-A-And before you ask, it’s not like they’re wrong about that, so...so it didn’t surprise me to here it. But everyone got s...something similar, right? All these personal th-things about us...just how much do they really know? How are we supposed to act like, like this is all normal when they’ve got that kind of leverage over us...!”

Oh. She’s shaking— she’s scared. She’s been putting up a front? Komaru puts two and two together after a moment, gently taking the other girl’s hands in her own. This time, she doesn’t get pushed away.

“I’m scared too.” She admits. “Thinking about it like that is scary. But that’s what they want from us, right? To make us scared, so we act the way he wants us to, right?”

Fukawa remains silent, but the conflicted look on her face at least indicated that she was paying attention to her and not ignoring her like she might’ve feared. Komaru squeezes her hands in an attempt to be reassuring. “But you think we’ll all get out alive, right? So no matter what, as long as you believe that, no matter what they might know we’ll be okay. And if you don’t think you can do that on your own, I’ll be right here to support you. So we’ll definitely get out alive, it’s a promise...!”

“You...You really don’t know wh-wh-what you’re saying.” She mutters under her breath, but Komaru takes it in stride with a grin.

“That’s not a no!” It’s not a yes either, but Fukawa doesn’t humor her in further acknowledging the subject: it doesn’t really mater, because Komaru sees a hint of what might be called a smile in her gentle expression.

Yes, at least with one of your peers, you are sure you’ve grown a little closer with today ( and for today, that is a good enough start ).

#tokomaru week 2021 #tokomaru #toukomaru #komaru naegi #touko fukawa #toko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes #listen!! i think thh protag komaru has potential and she deserves those rights

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