#it took me like a half an hour to find the u song
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is this love?
pairing: Vada Cavell x fem!reader
summary: reader goes on Vada's laptop and finds something very interesting on it
words: 2.204k
warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing, bad writing, let me know if there's anything else
authors note: this is my first time writing for Vada so if she seems OOC i'm sorry💀
vada (1:31am) wher r u?
me (1:33am): at home...?
vada (1:33am): cum over 2 watch a movie 🙃🙃
vada (1:33am): come* lol
vada (1:33am): cum 👉👌
me (1:34am): hilarious. why do you want me over vads?
vada (1:36am): bord and snakish
me (1:36am): it's half one in the morning
vada (1:36am): pls:( not evn for ur wife???💔
me (1:38am): what snacks do you want me to bring?
vada (1:38am): :D
vada (1:38am): takis, that choalet u like, waterlemon siur patch kid
me (1:39am): okay, i'll be over in a few
vada (1:39am): tyty
me (1:39am): 🙄🖤
vada (1:40am): 🤭🤭
You shook your head in amusement as you shoved your foot into your vans, soon after shoving your phone into the baggy hoodie you owned.
Of course only for Vada -your girlfriend- you'd sneak out in the middle of the night to bring snacks and to watch movies.
The chokehold that girl had on you was beyond tight.
Grabbing your headphones, backpack, wallet and phone you silently sneaked your way down the stairs, you took painfully slow steps to make sure you wouldn't make a sound.
After what felt like an eternity you had made it outside with the key to the garage, you quickly went to unlock it and retrieved your broken blue bike. It was barley rideable, but still good enough for you.
You locked the garage, keeping the keys in your pocket before you began biking away towards the closest 7/11.
The headphones placed on your ears filled the silence of the night with the sweet melody of Lana Del Rey.
After a handful of songs and halfway through White Mustang you arrived at the small store, it being the only twenty four hour store that was closest to yours and Vada's house.
You hopped off your bike before you entered, you had already memorised what Vada wanted. It didn't take you long before you were at the counters paying for the snacks, trying not to laugh at the clearly high worker who tried to act sober.
"Thanks." The worker gave a lazy thumbs up as he cracked an even lazier smile, you chuckled as you shoved your purchases into your backpack.
You sat back down on your bike as you checked on your phone to see three unread messages by Vada.
vada (1:43am): pls ride save 🚲🚲🚲🥽🥽🛟
vada (1:57am): jez what's takis so long?
vada (1:57am): 🪚
me (1:59am): 1) i will, don't worry❤️ 2) i have to ride to the store then to yours, plus my bike is shit. 3) no we're not watching saw, last time you watched it you got nightmares
vada (1:59am): ur alive!!!🧟♀️🚫
vada (2:00am): hury up
You laughed to yourself as you kept your phone back into its original position, peddling away before you took your hand out of your pocket.
Lana Del Rey's mystical voice sung a few more songs in your ears before you arrived outside of the Cavell residence.
You swiftly got off of the bike before you walked it up the pathway to keep leaning it against the wall.
Opening the gate you silently walked over to the back door to where Vada was already waiting for you, smiling brightly when she noticed your presence.
"Y/n! Hi!" She whispered yelled as she grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug. You smiled down at her as you wrapped your arms around her.
"Hey, Vads." You replied with a warm smile as butterflies flew around in your stomach at the contact.
The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Vada gazed up at you and stole a kiss from you before she headed towards the cabinets.
You took the moment for freedom to take off your shoes, placing them neatly in the corner of the room.
Vada went on her tippy toes as she reached two glasses from a cabinet, dropping them a bit too carelessly making you wince.
"Wanna do me a favour?" Vada asked as she grinned at you, hopping over to the alcohol cabinet as she took out a bottle of vodka.
You raised your eyebrows as you leaned against the counter. "Depends what that is."
"Go on my laptop and choose a movie for us to watch while I make us our drinks." She said as she shook the bottle of vodka daringly in her hands.
You laughed as you nodded your head, pushing yourself off the counter. "You already know what I'm going to put on."
"We are not watching Spider-Man again. I beg you."
"Fine." You decided with a roll of your eyes, somewhat not surprised Vada didn't want to watch Spider-Man for probably the fifth time this week.
Without a noise you made your way up the stairs and towards Vada's dimly lit bedroom. You shrugged off your backpack as you dropped down on Vada's snuggliest bed.
Her laptop was already on her bed so you thankfully didn't have to get back up, stretching until you reached it and swiftly pulled the laptop onto your lap.
You opened the laptop and immediately winced at the brightness, of fucking course Vada would put her laptop at full brightness at night.
You hurriedly lowered the brightness until you could actually look at it.
That's when you noticed the laptop was making a noise.
The Sims theme played lowly, an audio that was instantly recognisable. You smiled as you noticed Vada was still in her world.
Deciding there was no harm in it, you began looking around the beautifully decorated house Vada had built.
It was a perfect house for the family Tara had made.
The first sim you noticed was a toddler, a boy with y/h/c coloured hair and a freckled face.
You smiled at how cute the sim was as your eyes flickered down to the corner of the screen where a small row of sims' faces was at.
Finding the toddler's face you hover the mouse over it to get the name of the sim.
Tod Y/l/n-Cavell
You blinked, then blinked again at the name.
Y/l/n-Cavell
No fucking way.
Without hesitation you swiftly moved the mouse to hover over the next sim, a teenage girl who had dark brown hair.
Delilah Y/l/n-Cavell
A smug smile had appeared on your lips as your eyes gazed over to the two final remain sims. Promptly you clicked onto the next sim this time, which teleported you over to where the sim was.
Your eyes widened as you noticed the name and what the sim was doing.
Y/n L/n-Cavell was the name given to the sim that you couldn't see since it was woohooing the last sim.
You purse your lips as you stifle a laugh, much slower than before you moved to hover the mouse over the final sim which heavily resembled Vada's face.
Not to your surprise, the name 'Vada Yl/n-Cavell' appeared as the mouse hovered over the sim.
Just as you read the name a frantic Vada flung the door open as she practically dived in your direction, slamming the laptop closed on your lap.
With Vada half on you, half not, your eyes travelled down to her face, where you couldn't see her beauty since she was hiding it on the mattress next to your thigh.
"Please tell me you didn't see a thing." She begged through a muffled voice, you closed your eyes for a few seconds as you tried to not let out a laugh.
Swallowing any hint of laughter you said: "I didn't see anything," A small snort of laughter escaped as you muttered. "Mrs Y/l/n-Cavell."
Vada groaned loudly as she hid her face further into the bed, throwing her hands over her head as she tried to hide herself even further.
"I think it's adorable!" You said as you managed to stifle most of the laughter, Vada violently shook her head. "You're just saying that."
"No I'm not." Vada lifted her head as she gave you an unamused expression. "You're laughing."
"I'm not." You told her with a serious expression, the corners of your lift kept lifting as you fought a smile. "I just didn't expect to see a sim version of myself fucking a sim version of you." You managed to get halfway through the sentence before you let out a deep laugh, instantly covering your mouth with your hand to try to hide it.
Vada groaned as she slammed her head back down to hide in the duvet. "I'm never showing you my face ever again." Vada declared to you, you smiled as you positioned your hand on top of Vada's hand.
"And how exactly are you planning to never show your face to me again?" You taunted her with a grin.
"I'll just wear a mask everywhere like that weird Minecraft streamer." Vada exaggerated through a muffled voice as you tried hiding your laughter.
You shook your head mostly to yourself to try to stop laughing as you looked down at Vada.
"And deprive me of that pretty face of yours?" Vada nodded her head, her head still hid in the sheets. "Yes. You better start getting ready to bang me with a mask on for the rest of your life."
"Is it at least a ghostface mask?"
Vada stayed silent for a few moments, as if the words you said had actually gotten to her, before she shook her head.
"No! Making me horny won't make me forget about this."
You mentally reminded yourself to carry on that conversation another time with Vada.
"Vada, I promise you, it's not that bad. It's actually cute as shit." You insisted with no laughter that time, Vada slowly picked up her head to look up at you.
Her eyes narrowed on yours as she leaned against your thigh. "You're not bullshitting me?"
You smiled as you nodded your head enthusiastically at your girlfriend. "I'd never lie to you."
"It's still embarrassing." Vada whined as she snuggled further into your clothed thigh. You laughed lowly as you removed the laptop off of your lap, placing it onto the empty space next to you.
"The most embarrassing thing about it is that you actually think I'd let you name our child Tod." You jested with a humorous grin.
Honestly, you didn't know what was going through Vada's choosing the name Tod. You'd rather name your child Howard, a name you more than less hate.
Vada gave you a hurt look as she perched up on your thigh to be able to get a better look of you.
"Tod is a magnificent name. You'd probably name our child something nerdy like Peter." Your smile shifted to give Vada a dirty look at her words. Just because I love Spider-Man, you thought to yourself with a groan.
"There's nothing wrong with the name Peter, meanwhile there's everything wrong with the name Tod." You argued light-heartedly, the corners of Vada's lips twitched upwards, she was trying to fight her smile.
Pride withered in you at that, Vada was starting to feel less embarrassed at the whole situation.
Raising her eyebrows she gazed into your eyes. "Fine. We'll just have to name our child something absolutely ridiculous then."
You smiled amusedly as you nodded your head as if heavily interested in the conversation. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
Vada pursed her lips for a few moments as she glanced away from your eyes, deep in thought. As if she had figured out a top secret code, Vada returned her eyes to lock with yours, joy swirling around in her eyes.
"Donut." Vada assured with a nod of her head. You stifled a laugh as you cocked your head to the side like a husky. "Donut?" You repeated in a teasing tone.
She nodded her head confidently. "Donut; the second love of my life." Vada confirmed with a goofy grin on her face.
You smirked, your free hand moving to rest on Vada's scalp as you played with her soft hair. "Who's your first love then?"
"C'mon you already know the answer to that. It's obviously Bela Dimitrescu." Without hesitation you shoved Vada's head down with the hand that was on her head.
Vada laughed as she dodged your hand as she moved it so the side, landing her head back down on the top of your thigh. "Don't worry, baby. You'll always be my number one girl."
You narrowed your eyes. "Even over Bela?"
She nodded curtly against your thigh. "Even over Bela Dimitrescu."
"What about Lady Dimitrescu?"
Vada hissed as she closed her eyes momentarily before reopening them. "That's a tough one."
You sighed as you nodded your head in agreement. "Alright I'll give you that since she is so fine."
"So fucking fine." Vada whispered in agreement.
You smiled at Vada who beamed back at you with joy, a true sight for the sore eyes.
"How about instead of watching a movie we play sims?" Vada grinned as she sat up, grabbing the laptop as she sat by your side.
"I'm pretty sure my sim just impregnated yours so we can name our third child donut." Vada giggled as she opened the laptop back up.
You gave her a puzzled look. Vada's sim impregnated yours?
Why the fuck aren't you the one who had a dick?
"Why do I have to be the pregnant one?" You questioned as Vada began replaying the game. "I give off bigger dick energy than you."
You scoffed loudly at that, rolling your eyes. "Yeah right."
#vada cavell x reader#vada cavell#vada x reader#jenna ortega x reader#the fallout#the fallout movie#vada cavell x you#vada cavell x y/n#fluff#my fanficiton#fanfic#my fan fic
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ANYTHING ~ matt sturniolo.
summary ~ christmas eve and your mom does nothing but fight with you. you decide to leave and get stoned in some random parking lot when matt finds you.
warnings i! ~ ANGSTY ANGST, fluff, established relationship, soft!matt, use of petnames (baby), use of y/n (SUE ME), lower case intended !, mentions/details of suicide and depression. - tell me if ive missed anything !
a/n ~ hey ! haha🤣 so i was reading a fan fic and i started sobbing bc this song came on so i thought wait this is such a good song to write about💯💯‼️ so here i am💋 enjoy
not proof read !
✧༺💌༻∞
christmas eve. the last 24 hours before christmas day. the day of love and commemoration of the birth of Jesus Christ. the day of love, celebration, and hope.
christmas was the one day a year, besides birthdays, that kids looked forward to. the day that children got presents from family members they had never even heard of, it usually just being a box of chocolate and a card with ten dollars shoved in it carelessly. but, the children didn’t care. they saw ten dollars worth of candy and robux. they saw fifty new cavities for the dentists to worry about, toys for decades, and snow to lay in and create artificial angels.
however, christmas hadn’t been the same for you since your father died. the day felt dull, empty, lonely. december 19th 2016. one day after your thirteenth birthday, you walked into your parents newly organized bedroom to see your father’s limp and lifeless body with his feet floating 6 inches off the ground.
the day permanently imprinted in your closed mind. the way his skin faded white and his cheeks puffed up red. the way your father took his own precious life twenty four hours after you turned thirteen.
you were adding setting powder to your under eyes, making sure your makeup was perfect before putting your outfit on.
you, your mother, and sister always stayed indoors all day on christmas eve. playing board games, watching movies, drinking hot cocoa. it was like a tradition at this point. your father introduced it to your family when your mother was pregnant with you, now you were carrying on the legacy.
it wasn’t your favorite time of year, in fact, you dreaded the clocks striking midnight on december 1st. you wished you could stay in november forever. relive that last month of your life when your father stayed alive for every single day. when your father didn’t waste a single breath.
you shook the thought and wiped off the powder, curling your long and black lashes and swiping mascara across them. something about doing your makeup every morning was therapeutic, comforting. it wasn’t that you were ugly or insecure, no, it was just something to make your smile break out.
and something to make your boyfriend convince you that you didn’t need.
the brown fluffy hoodie that you stole from matthew sturniolo, your boyfriend, laid on your pink floral bedding. along with your red and black checkered pajama pants. it was a cozy and warming day. you weren’t going anywhere, so you didn’t bother with actual clothes.
it was now 10:07 am. matt was most definitely not awake, but you decided to message him. just to let him know you loved him. you couldn’t let anyone down ever again. you couldn’t end an interaction without an ‘i love you.’ or the guilt would eat you alive.
‘morning matt’
‘i love u’
‘merry christmas eve !’
‘tell ur mom and dad i miss them’
‘i already told nick and chris’
‘call me when u wake up baby’
‘love u so much.’
‘💌💌💌’
you sling your phone onto your mattress and tie your hair up. half up half down with a ribbon. just what your father knew and loved. what you know and love.
you stand in front of your six foot tall mirror and held your hands at your sides, looking at your reflection and not recognizing a single molecule of your body. from your toe nails to your hair follicles, you were a stranger. a complete stranger.
a deep breath escaped your lips as you switched your bright white led lights off and made your way to the living room where your mother was sat drinking a mug of black coffee, which was probably laced with vodka. her frail hands were shaking against the boiling ceramic piece, clearly already brain-dead.
your younger sister, monica, was slouching on the opposite sofa. her phone fixated in her sweaty hands which caused you to roll your eyes backwards into your brain.
you quickly glance over at the cats empty and stained food bowl, “has cookie been fed today?” you ask to a simple head shake and a mumbling of ‘no.’ you scoff and make your way into the kitchen, grabbing the cat biscuits from the cupboard and pouring a generous amount into her small bowl. you rinse away the three day old water and fill it with ice cold water for your cat.
you stroke your soft hand across her back as she wolfs down her food, storming into the living room. you snatch the mug of black coffee from your mother, holding it up to your nose and immediately being wafted by the smell of vodka.
you nod as tears gloss over your eyes, a pearly vision to them now. “you promised, mom! you fucking promised.” your voice started off as a yell until it breaks and the tears don’t even threaten to escape, they just do.
your mom furrows her brows, taking back the ‘worlds best mom.’ mug and shaking her head. her pupils were dilated and her scoff had the smell of alcohol. “i didn’t promise shit, y/n!”
“that’s bullshit mom and you know it.” you snap, monica shoving her wired headphones in and scurrying off into her bedroom up in the attic. “it was four months you were sober. now you’re off drinking vodka for breakfast. what the fuck is wrong with you?! don’t you care?”
your mom, ashley, laughs in your face like you’re a fool. like you’re just a piece of dirt she wiped off her shoe. “oh, so i’m a bad mom, is that it?”
“because i have tried so hard to suit your needs, y/n, but nothing seems to please you anymore.” she added.
you press your lips together tightly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “yeah, you are a bad mom. what happened, hm? ever since dad died you’ve been gone. it’s like you’re here but your head is in oblivion.”
your mom scowls, her fists in balls. how dare you speak to her like that? who did you think you were? your father?
“don’t speak to me that way, y/n. i am your mother.”
“are you?! are you my mother? because i don’t see you. i never see you anymore! you’re always in the clouds. you’re never here, you’re always in space.” tears flood as you speak your mind, as you bring up the same argument for the one hundredth time, hoping that she will finally listen, finally get help, finally be a mother.
your mom stands closer, her hand coming up to slap your face, ready to leave a red handprint in your pale skin, but you grab her wrist. she clenches her jaw and yanks her arm down. “i wish it was you that died.”
you immediately grab your tote bag and leave the house. making sure to slip your ugg’s on as you exit. you don’t even grab your phone, instead just sit in your car and drive off. no plan, no money, and a million thoughts.
number one priority is getting far away from your home, wether you get to australia or the local gas station, you had to leave. but, just your luck, the car ran out of gas as you pulled into a random parking lot. no clue where you were, you threw your head down onto the steering wheel, the beep continuing on for thirty seconds until you were finally cured of the sound.
the stress you received from your mother never failed to dig your grave further.
i wish it was you that died.
i wish it was you that died.
i wish it was you that died.
the longer you let the words sink into your brain, the faster your heart sank. the words stung. you knew when she’d sober up she’d apologize and cry, like she always did, but you were sick of the empty apologies. you were sick of the games. you just wanted it to be november 2016.
you rummaged through your tote bag, hands gripping onto a week old roll up that you and matt forgot to use. you took a deep breath and picked up the lighter from your glove box, holding the blunt to your cracked lips as you lit it. you wished matt was there to hold it to your lips as he lit it, blowing smoke into your mouth as you made out. you wished you were with him.
an hour had passed. a long ass hour. you were lucky for your watch. about twenty minutes in you realized your phone had been forgotten and left on your pink floral bedsheets. you had no idea if matt had texted you, you hoped he’d still be asleep.
since you were bored out of your mind, you took the nearly finished blunt with you and travelled around the entire parking lot on foot. over and over again until you spotted a bench outside of the target. you took a seat and stamped out the blunt, kicking it under the bench.
your fingers danced around on the arm of the rotted bench. you felt a coldness wash over your body and felt a human presence in front of you. matthew.
his hand pressed against your knee as he knelt down and looked at your face with worry and concern. “hey.. what’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his thumb swiping over your kneecap as a way of comforting you.
you frown, “what are you even talking about, matt? i’m fine.” you cross your arms and look away, but his free hand grabs your chin and turns your face towards him.
“you’re stoned at half eleven in the morning, baby. what happened?” he asked, soothingly, tucking a strand behind your ear. “you only ever smoke with me, and even then you’re cautious.” he sits beside you, waiting patiently for a reply.
“i don’t wanna talk about anything.” you mumble, “i don’t wanna talk about anything.” you repeat, a lot softer, glancing up at matt for a moment.
matthew sighs, rubbing his eyes, “did your mom upset you? i understand the time of year, but you’re gonna have to tell me if i’m gonna help you, baby..” matts lips twist to the side and he rests a hand on your shoulder.
“i don’t wanna talk about anyone.” you sighed, “i want to sleep.” a small chuckle escaped matts lips as you said this, looking at the store behind him.
“well, let me just quickly buy some more whipped cream and marshmallows since chris ate them all, and we can head to my house, ‘kay?” he suggested at you nodded, a small, soft kiss being planted on your temple.
it only took him ten minutes to grab what he needed. he took your hand and walked over to his car when he stopped in his tracks. “how did you get here?”
“drove ‘til i ran out of gas.” you shrugged, pointing at your car isolated across the parking lot. matt took a deep breath and look at you, shaking his head playfully.
“i’ll bring a fuel can down here later and drive it to mine for you.” matt smiled softly and opened the drivers door, climbing in and tossing his bag into the back seat.
this target was almost thirty minutes away from the sturniolo household, so you connected your phone to aux and played one particular song on repeat, ‘anything’ by adrianne lenker. you hummed the lyrics, staring out at the snow trickling down onto the sidewalks, kids building snowmen with their families.
your eyes shut as you stayed slouched in the passenger seat, your arms folded and your head resting on the inside of the car door. you took a deep breath before eventually falling asleep.
it was almost 12pm, afternoon, but you needed this nap. you needed this break. you needed matt.
4pm. you woke up in matts bed with three blankets sloped across your body. drool down your face with hair stuck to your cheeks. you took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes, sitting up slowly as you yawned and stretched your arms.
you blinked multiple times, still trying to come back to reality. your mind was foggy, cloudy, you had no idea what happened or where you were for a good few minutes.
matt suddenly walked into his bedroom and shut the door, jumping when he saw you staring directly at him. he smiled softly and walked over to kiss your forehead. he sat beside you on his bed and handed you your car keys, but you looked up with a blank expression.
“oh! i filled your car with gas, it’s out in the front.” he grinned and you nodded slowly, yawning again. he sighed, tilting his head and looking at you. “hey. what’s going on?” he kissed your cheek, “why did i find you stoned outside of a target thats no where near you?”
you finally start to wake up fully. wiping your drooled-face and shrugged, “don’t know.”
matt shook his head, “c’mon. speak up, baby.”
you sighed deeply and loudly, “i just hate this time of year, matt. my mom was literally drinking vodka at 10am. didn’t wanna fight, but she insisted.” you sob, laying your head in his lap and covering your face with your hands. “why did he have to die.” your words were muffled as you whispered into his lap.
matt felt sorry. he didn’t know what to do or say. all he knew was to be there for you. his fingers ran through your hair and he leaned down to kiss your head, “i know, i’m sorry, baby.” but he didn’t know. his father was alive and in the living room below them.
you choked on your cries, using his sweatpants as a rag. “i just don’t want to do it anymore, matt.” you say, sitting up and wiping your eyes. you look at his face, “i love you so much.”
matt nodded and kissed you tenderly, “i love you more, y/n.” he smiled softly and hugged you, “when we grow old and have grandchildren, we’ll give them a box of chocolate for christmas.” he chuckled, rubbing your back.
“with ten dollars in the christmas card.” you smiled back, holding his hand and pulling away.
matt nodded and spoke, “for now, we get to love eachother and be grateful for 8th grade science.”
@mattslolita @sturnprime
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#angst#fluff#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo
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Hii can I get a Chishiya x reader where the reader is an artist? It can be in whatever format u like, I don't really mind. Please and thank u!
“ A PAINTING FOR YOU!! ” — chishiya x artist!reader
where chishiyas s/o is an artist who likes to take painting commissions, except this time valentine’s day is getting closer and they want to make a special gift just for chishiya.
— HIHI!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING,, I had this idea to add on to the request hopefully you don’t mind<3 but I hope it is to your liking!! ,, ps there’s most likely spelling and grammar mistakes so anything I missed, feel free to correct me 💕 also so sorry for writing this 4 days after valentines😭 ,, also,, mentions of wife and husband..
it was currently 10 pm, saturday february 11. three full days before valentine’s day, yet you were still busy finishing up your commissions instead of planning something special for your boyfriend. the thought of making something for him this year crossed your mind as you were scrolling through Instagram looking through your feed. it wasn’t a bad idea at all actually. surely chishiya would appreciate a gift.
you were a painter who made portraits and other paintings for people, chishiya admired this. he always wondered how you were so patient yet fast when handling your art. truly a unique talent, even for him to admit. you had actually tried to teach chishiya how to sketch and make a good painting, the basics. not once did it work out. he may be a fast learner but sticking to the med field instead of art would be better.
still, you always kept his painting attempts most of the time. point is, valentine’s day was approaching rather quickly and this year you wanted to use your talent to good use. it had to be something meaningful yet pretty, something he would love to admire. this was your second year as a couple celebrating the 14th together. you had thought of other things to possibly gift the half blond but chishiya was never the materialistic type so choosing something for him was rather difficult.
so that’s when the idea of a painting came in, i mean you could easily finish a canvas in three days, right? the moment you realized what you wanted to do you got up from your bed and immediately started to sketch out your idea. you only had three days to finish the painting, thank god chishiya didnt live with you, otherwise the gift would’ve been a big fail right from the start.
after about an hour of narrowing down your ideas, you went for the safer option, your favorite date spot. it was more of a rough sketch idea since you weren’t fully sure when you first started, finishing the sketch would probably take all night but you were willing to take that risk. of course you would be closing and pausing your commissions just until the 15th so you could focus on the main thing.
obviously the colors would be a pain to find so mixing and combining the ones you had at home were the safer option. greys, whites, some really pigmented and bright ones others pretty dark.. yet it was a good palette. it all looked good together when you tested it on a small scaled canvas. it was now 7 am, frebruary 12th, took all night to finish, but at least the picture itself was done.. good news!!
although the bad news on the other hand,, chishiya would be arriving at your doorstep any moment now. he would always make sure to see you before a shift of his at the hospital, which was quite early. you had to put a cover over the canvas and securely lock your art room beforehand. it was screaming suspicion but who cares, not like you killed anyone. though the idea of chishiya finding out his gift wasn’t pleasant so before he arrived you tried to look natural which wouldn’t be easy with the evident dark circles under your eyes that made it obvious you hadn’t slept an inch.
right after you walked back to the kitchen the sound of keys trying to unlock the door were heard. normally you would be happy yet sleepy of his presence right before going to work. this time you were nervous and still sleepy, he figures things out way too quickly specially when you act suspicious, he can read a person too well. you heard him go upstairs, thankfully not where your art room is at. confused you waited for him to come back downstairs, “there you are, I thought you were still be in bed” chishiya made his way to the counter. on sundays you stayed in bed until he arrived and woke you up to eat breakfast.
“I woke up a tad bit earlier today” you turned to him with two mugs filled with hot water. “morning chishi” you smiled at him trying to shake off the nervousness. he looked up at you and his eyes immediately landed on the dark circles right beneath yours. “did you not sleep well?” he frowned. “ah, this? I was finishing up some commissions last night that I completely forgot to sleep haha..” he raised a brow at you with clear confusion, but questioned no further.
to anyone, you staying up finishing any art project of yours would be normal, to him it’s was very,, weird. chishiya knew you all too well, you would never and when I say never it’s because clearly, never have you stayed all up all night trying to finish a canvas. still he didn’t mention a single word of this, “you should’ve told me, you could be sleeping right now instead of having breakfast with me” it was your time to frown, “but I wouldn’t have seen you today, anyway it doesn’t bother me I purely run on coffee” you said proudly.
“you’re stupid” he sighted, though truth is he was glad he got to see you before work, long hours at the hospital were exhausting specially when he didn’t get to see you all day. he would never admit to that though. “make sure to sleep after, it’s not healthy not getting any sleep, you could get sick” there he goes again scolding you about your health, it’s almost as if he was your husband and you his wife. “i know, i know, don’t worry i will” you weren’t..
he left soon after you packed his lunch, which was rather silly. everytime you thought about it, it would be almost as if you were a married couple. with a quick kiss and hug he exited your house and walked to his destination.
right after he left you grabbed your keys and unlocked your art room again ready to continue. he would scold you later when he finds out you went straight to your project rather than sleeping. but that would be a worry for later. sadly he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow when he finished his shift.. at least it would give you more time to work rather than having to hide your painting.
at some point you decided to stop and actually take a small nap, anyway you were half done and it was 1 am, february 13th. once again you put a cover over the canvas and locked the door before walking up to your room and finally sleeping. yet that didn’t exactly do much for your eye bags.
“you didn’t sleep again?” he sounded tired and sleepy the very next morning he arrived from the hospital “you haven’t slept either chishi” whenever he arrived at your doorstep tired from his long hour shifts you would grow worried for his health. “let’s get you to bed” you grabbed his hand as he followed. it was a pretty normal routine by now. he would sleep at your house while you either stayed right beside him or went out to buy groceries. this time you would have to go back down and finally finish the project. which was very risky considering he was there.
he immediately knocked out after he felt himself laying down, you giggled at his sight as you went back downstairs. you made sure to lock your art room before starting so he wouldn’t accidentally walk in on you making his gift. after many hours later the painting was finally done and you could get a good rest right next to your boyfriend.
finally the 14th of february arrived, you were excited to show him his present that you worked hard on. hoping that he would like it even more, you took him to the exact same spot that was painted into the canvas. a picnic date to be exact. you were both clearly still in need of sleep but that business would be for later after your date.
he had a bag and some flowers in hand when he arrived, he was wearing the white hoodie you got him last year with a white shirt underneath and sweatpants.. typical of him. the canvas was right beside the basket of food you brought but that would be opened after you were done eating.
some small typical talk later you both finished your food “thankfully you had today off, you seriously needed a break” you were picking up and trashing the items you no longer used. now, it was the time for gifts , much to his dismay. chishiya was never good with words so he always just handed you your gift straightforward “here” he grabbed the bag by his side and gave it to you. it was a necklace with both of your initials although the s stood out more.
you let out a grin “thank you shuntaro”, surprisingly he didn’t buy you a ring, (he was about to).. actually even more surprising, he got you jewelry. you asked him to clip the necklace from behind your neck. it was a pretty necklace needless to say. he also handed you a letter but he advised you to open it later when he wasn’t in your presence anymore.
now it was your turn to give him his gift. you let out a deep breath and grabbed the boxed canvas behind you. “i wanted to gift you something special this year, so hopefully you like this” you hand him the painting.
he slowly unwraps the tie and opens the box, for a second you see his eyes widen as he stares at the content inside, slowly they soften and he smirks “so this is what you were hiding” you look up at him shocked “YOU KNEW?!?” you couldn’t believe such a moment was ruined by him telling you he already knew.
“it was pretty obvious dumbass” you sighted in defeat “at least you didn’t know what the painting contained..” you smiled softly “do you like it?” you looked up at him, his eyes to be exact. he only hums and smiles at your words, you feel all the nervousness lift from your shoulders.
you launched yourself at him with joy as he falls back on the grass. his hands travel to your waist as he hugs you. truth to be told you loved these moments were chishiya showed just how much he actually enjoys being with you without him having to actually say it.
your hands land on both of his cheeks, a small kiss to his forehead. “i’m glad you liked it, let’s have more years together okay?” you smile at him. chishiya could only chuckle at your words yet agree, he looked forward to spending many more years to come with you and truly, only you.
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Okay, so I’ve actually been thinking about this non-stop, but I’m no writer, so you’ll have to bear with me: Manager y/n, who is doing ‘research’ for the Paige edits, gets super into TikTok for like a week before they have to cut themselves off.
And during this week, they’re not just watching videos – no, they’re posting them. I’m talking like 5 a day MINIMUM. It all starts when they see the “who’s afraid of little old me” sound is trending and promptly post a slideshow, beginning with a soft, smile-filled picture of them with the team before “you should be” is sung out, and it cuts to a like 10-second compilation they had seen of them and the team screaming at refs or just looking super pissed off on the sidelines (as others have mentioned, the rbf is no joke).
Fans, of course, go crazy because, omg they’re posting on their account now? (It’s chalked up to KK’s influence.) And when their first video blows up, Manager y/n is officially hooked.
After seeing Paige’s Tru Fru video, they use the song to make an edit of them and the team using mostly unseen pictures and videos from the Europe trip to “I was over love and I’d had enough ‘till I found you”. It’s just so painfully sweet and a little bit sappy; people love it.
Things take a dramatic turn, though, when they discover thirst traps. NOW, they only post one, but one is enough to send people spiraling. “That’s my playpen, borderline thinking like Barbie.”
Lives are lost that day.
And the team’s reaction? Let's just say they've never hit the repost button faster. Paige has it saved and favorited in her camera roll, but you didn’t hear that from me.
“Now I’m down bad, crying at the gym” is posted to a video from when they tried to do the team’s conditioning day with them, and things didn’t go well. Manager y/n is strong, but this is a whole other level; they don’t even make it past the first hour before tears are shed. The whole team finds it hilarious (and it is).
KK gets them into dances too; there’s at least three posted to “Get it sexyy” before the day is done. And there’s soooo much more. “There must have been an angel by my side” is posted with Ice and Azzi. A “You know how to ball, I know Aristotle” ‘fit check with Paige goes triple platinum on the platform. And there are a perhaps unreasonable number of videos posted to “make her disappear just like poof, then she’s gone, addicted don’t know what the fuck I’m on” from a particularly fun night out (they had to take frantically down half of them when they woke up, but we won’t talk about that).
But perhaps the true pièce de résistance is ‘Man eater’. It was supposed to just be a ‘fit check after they got particularly dressed up for a team dinner/fundraiser but simply put, the people couldn’t take it. It took less than an hour for edits to start rolling in, and when some multiple people in their classes the next day (INCLUDING THEIR FAVORITE PROFESSOR) tells them they saw it , Manager y/n decided to take a step back (they can handle online attention, but in person is a whole different ball game).
After all, “we can’t have too many celebrities on this team.”
Last notes: This brief deep dive does dramatically affect the quality of the edits they make though; there was just so much inspiration to be taken (for research purposes only of course). 2 weeks after they stop posting on their personal account, a Paige and Nika hype edit to ‘Carnival’ is posted on the UConn page. They almost get in trouble for it, but they gain a couple of thousand followers and it quickly becomes the most liked video on their page. And who’s going to get mad at someone for what turns out to be a stroke of marketing genius (explicit lyrics be damned)?
THIS IS NOW MY FAV THING EVERTRR CUS YOURE SO SO SO RIGHT, i love the way u think nonnie
absolutely, and i feel like after the week is over she’s on the same level as paige — there are fan edits EVERYWHERE and manager is getting so much attention from everyone (ofc she doesn’t mind tho)
when she stops posting as much as she used to i can def see everyone begging for scraps 😭😭 they reuse the same 10 clips they have and the scraps they can find up until queen y/n posts again 😭😭
pls send more thoughts this was so much reading through it!
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A fic request: Elvis x stand-offish girl? He's used to fawning girls, so she's intriguing and he wants to have her. The Robbie Smith encounter with Elvis kinda' inspired me. Preferably smutty, but up to you. Thank you 💖
this is might be TOO long and took forever and also covers a couple of other requests, but hope you enjoy bunny x
You and the sun
“i don’t wanna argue, ma’am...” he looks down in mock bashfulness and then straight up into your eyes. “but, uh, ain’t i your job?”
pairing: 70's elvis/reader or austin!elvis/reader whichever you prefer
rating: M, minors do not interact
warnings: oral, handjobs, vague slightly sub elvis vibes, usual elvis stuff including his healing hands. u know how it is.
four leaf clover, lucky strike cigarettes, something about… lucky sixes?
you could write this song a lot faster if that fucker would stop showing off his sub-par guitar skills in the corner. he’s strutting around like a peacock in a gaudy silk shirt, howling with laughter at his own jokes. all the men in the room, even the serious session musicians you admire, revolve around him like he’s the sun. they laugh along with him, even when he isn’t funny, totally sucked into his massive, magnetic orbit.
“man, you’re killin’ it, EP!” a big guy shouts from the corner.
he isn’t killing it. you’ve seen him fucking around all session, laughing during takes, making up nonsensical lyrics while you’ve been trapped in the corner, roped into writing something fresh for him. it’s a lot of pressure when you’re only four months into your publishing deal with the label.
originally he didn’t want a girl in the recording room but once he saw you he made a real fuss, started introducing you to all the guys in his entourage and flirting shamelessly. unfortunately for him, he’d shown up two hours late to the session and you were too tired to find him charming or impressive.
of course, if it wasn’t for all that ego and bravado, you would find him to be both those things.
his voice is beautiful. it’s rich, smooth and dextrous. in one moment he sings with such a rough grit and the next with a high angelic head register, switching between them effortlessly. his raw emotion is expertly channeled into each word, each vibrato choice, each pause. and the connection to the music is real. it moves him. he jerks and swings and shimmies and his hips. when your eyes aren’t on your own handwriting, you can’t help but gaze at the way the music moves through him.
but all of that, while impressive in bursts, doesn’t yield consistent results in the studio.
every now and again elvis saunters up to you with his guitar thrust forward like a dick and leans over your notebook to decipher your lyrics. he gives you patronizing encouragement and winks, keeps on touching your shoulder even though you shrug him off.
“keep goin’ little lady.” he says. or “stick at it honey.” or eventually “why don’t you come sit right here in front of me, see if we can give each other some inspiration?”
nothing you do dampens his mood. if anything he seems to perform even harder while the men around him feed his wild energy and chain smoke and don’t look you in the eye.
“honey…” he sighs dramatically, one eyebrow raised. “can i, uh, can i ask, have i done something to offend?”
you look up from your paper to find elvis standing in front of you, the session apparently taking a break. half the guys seem to have already left and the rest are waiting to pounce on any opportunity to get him alone. all you’ve got written down is a verse and a scrappy chorus you’re going to have to re-write.
“no, you haven’t. i’m just trying to finish this song for you.”
he’s full of manic energy, you can feel it radiating from him in waves and he’s bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. even while wiping sweaty strands of black hair from his forehead his smile is like the sun glinting in your eyes. it pisses you off.
“well, i sorta feel like you’re fightin’ me here, honey.”
“i’m not fighting you. i’m here to write you a song because your catalog is tired.”
he responds to this with a sudden burst of open-mouthed laughter, so sharp that it takes you by surprise.
“now, see, that - that’s what i mean.” he grins, placing his hand on the arm of your chair. the cool silk of his shirt brushes your wrist. “you’re just a little sourpuss.”
he smells like cigar smoke and old spice and faintly of sweat as he leans over you.
and you have to admit it. you may not like him, but those cheekbones and that straight nose… you get it. a little. it’s roman. he’s practically statuesque.
“i’m just trying to do my job.”
despite the dark glasses you see his eyes light up and he tries to hide a little-boy grin. you’ve said something he’s about to use as ammunition.
“i don’t wanna argue, ma’am...” he looks down in mock bashfulness and then straight up into your eyes. “but, uh, ain’t i your job?”
there are laughs from the few guys left in the room that overhear him and he glances back at them with a smug grin.
“my job is writing. i just wanna finish this song and go home. can you move your hand from my chair, mr. presley?”
he blinks at you for a moment under his lashes. and then, his grin never faltering, he snorts and throws his hands up in surrender. you pretend not to watch him turn on his heeled boots and walk out for his break. the rest of the musicians follow after him like ducklings, not one of them stopping to speak to you. not even the guys you like.
.
twenty minutes later, without the commotion of all the men in the room, you’re finally getting somewhere with the song. all you need is a better bridge and maybe a different second verse and for this fucking headache to dissipate.
you’re busy scrawling down bad rhymes in the margin of your composition book, heat beat street keep, when the big guy from earlier unceremoniously sticks his head around the door.
“elvis wants you to come to dinner with us.” he says with zero enthusiasm. he’s wearing a loud purple suit but he doesn’t pull it off like his boss does. you can hear the echoes of male laughter from the corridor behind him.
“tell him no thank you. i’m writing.” the guy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything and then leaves as quickly as he came, the booth falling silent again.
bristling, you settle back down to write down a few more rhymes but you only make it five minutes before you’re interrupted again. the door bursts open, no sound of laughter in the corridor this time, and elvis himself leans dramatically against the doorframe.
“still givin’ me the cold shoulder, huh baby?” he pouts.
“oh god!” you whine, throwing the notebook down on the floor and massaging your left temple pointedly. “can i have thirty minutes uninterrupted?”
he has a thin cigar in his hand and he waves it dismissively, ash fluttering to the threadbare carpet. his heeled boots step towards you and he lets the door close behind him.
“you’re workin’ too hard, sourpuss. come on outta here, come have dinner.”
“look.” you sigh, the headache now rapidly spreading across the back of your skull. “when i said your catalog is tired, i meant it. i’m being paid to write you something fresh and i - i can’t work like this. i’m not used to it.”
he frowns and runs his hand through his messy hair, glasses so dark that you can’t see his eyes.
“you ain’t givin’ me a whole lot to work with, y’know.”
“i’m working for you!”
you shake your head in disbelief. his cigar smoke is getting into your lungs, your headache is getting worse and he is so clearly getting off on the bickering.
“i’m just sayin’, you know. you’ll live longer if you cut loose once in a while.”
“you’ll live a lot longer if you tighten up once in a while.”
“spicy and sour, huh?” he drawls. more ash flutters to the carpet. “naw, i-i-i think you like our little fights deep down. i’d like you a whole lot more if you just came to dinner.”
“look.” you try again. “i have a deadline and an unfinished song and a headache, so if you could-”
“i can fix that, honey.” he interrupts brightly, springing towards you and holding out the hand that isn’t holding a cigar. the ruffle of his sleeve brushes the top of your head as you pull away from him. “lemme put a hand on you.”
“what are you talking about?” you blink, dumfounded.
“lemme lay a hand on you baby, it’ll go away.” he repeats. “it’s all energy. i- i can clear that.”
“it’s all energy? what are you talking about, healing hands?”
he’s so close to you now that his ash is falling into your lap and you’re trying to duck away from his outstretched, bejeweled hand when something catches your eye.
“wait -” you can’t help but snort a little in disbelief, still holding him at arm's length. “really? how can anything i’ve just said turn you on?”
your eyes are fixed on the front of his pants. he glances down at himself and then back up at you sheepishly.
“aw, i’m only a man, honey”
he’s wearing a cocksure smile but you notice how he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, slightly uncomfortable. a little insecure chink in the armor.
there’s an awfully heavy silence in the recording room. he is standing so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating from his body and it feels suddenly suffocating. you take a deep breath.
but you can’t help it.
for a fraction of a second your eyes dart to the glass window of the control room. it’s empty. the lights are all out in there, a couple of blinking buttons illuminated. you’re alone with him. he tilts his head and raises his eyebrow. fuck. you wish he hadn’t seen you do that.
but fuck. you could.
“c’mon, sourpuss.” he whispers. he reaches back and crushes his cigar into an ashtray.
he knows you’re thinking it.
keeping his eyes fixed on yours, elvis leans down to you as you tilt your face up. before he can kiss you, you kiss him first. and if only to wipe that smug smile from his face, you kiss hard. so hard that he’s taken aback at first and laughs into your mouth before you feel him go slack on his feet.
and it isn’t bad. he meets you with equal force but his lips are still soft and insistent, firm but not hard. with one hand leaning on the arm of your chair he grabs the back of your head with the other, curling his fingers into your hair so he can angle your face up towards his.
his roughness gives you shivers. your entire center of gravity is pulling you down, down, down into the seat of the chair. it has you squeezing your thighs together, blue dress riding up, material rough against your skin as his mouth forces you to open wider.
you can hear your heartbeat. it’s so loud that you wonder if he can too.
“aw, you ain’t so sour.” he murmurs, pulling away from your kiss and massaging your scalp with his fingers. you grab his silky shirt, the ugly patterns distorting on the fabric, his black hair getting in your eyes.
you feel such a deep irritation when he laughs against your cheek that you yank at his belt buckle, pulling it open roughly. he raises his eyebrows as he looks down at you.
“you don’t gotta be rough, honey. you just gotta ask.”
you don’t pull his pants down all the way, just the zip open and his erection out. you’re aware that the guys are only a few rooms down and your name will never escape the rumor mill of rca studios if you get caught doing this with elvis presley of all goddamn people.
you just want to make this quick.
when you wrap your fingers around him and stroke up hard, he stands straight and sighs heavily. you can see him wince but he doesn’t tell you to stop and you take a sick little pleasure from the way his hips pull away from you and his body goes deliciously slack for the second time. it makes you feel powerful, in control.
“lemme lay hand on you.” he whispers, his fingers finding the top of your head again. “i’m serious.”
you shake them off, try to reestablish the boundaries by stroking him even harder. this isn’t supposed to get soft.
but he does feel beautiful in your hands. his skin is so silky, hot to the touch and he’s so wet at the top that he must have been hard for a long time before you noticed. you ease up your movements slightly, give him a moment to breathe, and using your feet on the floor, you pull the swivel chair closer to him so your thighs come to wrap around his. he pushes his body against you, heat soaking through silk.
you try to gauge what your next move should be from the look on his face but his features are unreadable with those dark, protective glasses on.
“will you take those off?” you ask.
and it takes you by surprise but your grip loosens on him when you see those baby blue eyes. they aren't what you expected. the slight cruelness of his lean body, the sharpness of his words, the roughness in his hands isn’t present in his eyes at all. they look soft. they look open.
but this can’t get soft.
you add a second hand and twist, going harder again. he’s grimacing slightly but he still doesn’t ask you to stop and you want to see exactly how much he’ll take before he does.
“oh. you like it like this, huh?” you purr, trying to reestablish the right mood.
but try as you might, he changes the mood right back.
he leans over your chair, both hands coming to grip the armrests either side of you. it hugs your bodies together and forces your forehead to rest against his chest as he deliberately boxes you in. the embrace is too intimate for the situation, but you allow it for a little while. maybe he needs it.
“lift this up.” he mumbles, grabbing the hem of your dress and yanking it up to your waist so your panties are on show. you feel how his gold rings are warm on your skin where they brush the inside of your thigh.
the lights in the room aren’t particularly bright. but if you turn your face and rest your cheek against his chest you can see how the muscles in his jaw clench everytime you twist your hands or run your fingertips in circles across the tip of him. how even his tiny facial muscles move beautifully under his skin.
when you kiss the head of his cock he groans. the low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat makes you throb and you have a fleeting urge to kiss his neck. but you don’t. instead you take him in, hollow your cheeks and suck lightly so you can hear it again. it's like vibrato in his chest. you’re pressed so close together that he can barely thrust and can only rock his hips into you gently, smooth and rhythmic. with one hand against his leg for leverage, you taste salt.
he strains in your mouth and you prepare yourself, his thigh tensing under your palm and his groans getting louder and you can’t help but imagine the two of you backlit by the few flashing lights in the control room. you wonder what you look like, wrapped up in such a funny, awkward embrace.
it doesn’t take long before he comes with such a loud shout that you jump. you try to shush him by patting his thigh but he either doesn’t care or can’t control it so you just hope the booth is as soundproof as the studio makes it out to be. his hips jerk as his shout fades to a groan and you swallow around him, eventually pulling off and letting your head rest against his torso again.
it takes him a long time to get his breath back and you feel his chest heave under your cheek, his silk shirt soft against your skin.
afterwards he looks at you with a funny expression on his face as he buckles his belt.
“get cleaned up, sourpuss.” he orders gently, with a smile that you can’t quite read. it’s almost like he’s embarrassed.
but before you can get out of the chair, he places his palm firmly on the top of your head. this time you let him. you feel the sweaty heat of his hand against your scalp and you stay like that, very still, for several minutes in the silence of the recording room.
and the weird thing is, your headache really does go away.
#elvis x reader#austin!elvis x reader#elvis presley#austin butler#austin!elvis smut#austin!elvis#elvis smut#elvis 2022#elvis movie#my writing
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as someone who enjoys reading emeto and snz, could u write a fic with both? maybe for yoongi? i dont know what scenario, sorry.
Just a cold? (Sick YG)
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Sick: Yoongi
Caretaker: Jimin, Seokjin, Hoseok
Tw: emeto, vom**, mentions of nausea, stomach pain, fevers, snz
Word count: 1227
Thank you for requesting!!! Sorry it took longer than I expected!! (I'm still working on other requests, too, so anons, if you see this, your fics are coming!)
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Yoongi has never been this congested in his life. Blowing his nose has stopped working and he sneezed too many times during a meeting that all the members were sent home. The rapper was grateful for the break but he had songs to produce, not that a single thought could get past his head with how stuffy he feels.
"H-h-hESH'ew.." Hoseok looks at Yoongi sympathetically. Yoongi kicked everyone else out of his room but Hoseok somehow made his way in. He's holding a tray with some soup (made by Jin), tea, more tissues and medicine of course. "Hey, hyung. Jin-hyung says you gotta eat all of the soup or he's gonna take away your laptop." Hoseok explains, handing Yoongi the bowl of home made soup.
Yoongi can't even breathe through his nose and mumbles a groggy, "t'anks Hoba.." he eats the soup slowly, and Hoseok peers over at him lovingly. "Does it taste bad or something? What's with that frowny face?" Hoseok teases, delicately running fingers through Yoongi's hair in a soothing manner. "Head hurts." Yoongi replies, continuing to sip soup off his spoon.
Hoseok tuts, grabbing medicine off the tray. "Take two of these, since you've eaten something. They should work within about 30 minutes." Hoseok hands Yoongi some water. He pops the pills and blows his nose again, chucking it into the half full bin next to his bed. "Keep eating, hyung but I'm gonna let you be. Jungkookie wants me to work out with him." Hoseok smiles, recalling Jungkook's begging to get him to come to the company gym.
Yoongi's mouth curls upwards, "thanks Hoba, enjoy." Yoongi says, now almost three quarters finished the soup. Hoseok pats Yoongi's foot through the blanket and leaves the room, switching the light off to the elder's pleasure.
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With the soup finished and after blowing his nose at least 4 more times, the ache in Yoongi's head is still persisting and his stomach is starting to feel uneasy, and not because of the soup. The rapper has been trying to fall asleep, in the darkness of his room it shouldn't be that hard, yet there he is. Wrapped up in blankets and hugging his stomach.
It had been around an hour and a half since Hoseok left and now Jimin comes trailing into Yoongi's bedroom. Jimin is about to retreat because he thinks Yoongi is fast asleep, that is until he hears a horrible sneeze and moan come from the lump in bed. Jimin stands frozen as Yoongi blows his nose and picks up the bin half full with tissues to—gag into it..?
"Are you okay, Yoongi-hyung??" Jimin says, beginning to stroke up and down Yoongi's back. He hugs the bin, gagging again and spitting out excess saliva. Jimin flicks the bedside lamp on and Yoongi's paler than normal features are highlighted along with his pink Rudolf-looking nose.
"My stomach doesn't feel good, Jimin-ah.." Yoongi says, throat clenching around a heave. Jimin rakes Yoongi's long hair out the way just in time for him to bring up a wave of Seokjin's soup. It looks too much like it did when Yoongi first consumed it and it makes him feel sicker. "Oh, hyungie.. you'll feel better once you're empty." Jimin coos, praying that someone else comes and finds them because at this rate, Jimin is horriblely worried. Yoongi just has a cold, right? Why is he throwing up?
Jimin shoots Seokjin a quick text, 'can you please help? Yoongi-hyung is throwing up :(((' he pockets his phone just as Yoongi pukes again. Jimin pats the elder's back, trying to block out the distinct smell of puke but alternatively can't imagine leaving his hyung alone like this.
The patter of Seokjin's feet quick on their hardwood floors is music to Jimin's ears. "Oh, Yoongi-ah... you poor thing." Seokjin croons, walking over and beginning to massage Yoongi's nape. The rapper is thankful and fast to lean into the oldest' touch. A wave of calm washes over Jimin, but he tenses slightly when Yoongi reels forward with a productive heave.
Seokjin eyes the bowl on Yoongi's bedside table and hums approvingly when he finds it empty of his delicious soup. At least he knows that's not the reason Yoongi's sick. "He'll be okay, Jiminie." Seokjin eases the dancer just a little, continuing to rub Yoongi's back and hold his hair.
Yoongi spits and Jimin hands him some water. "Small sips, Yoon." Seokjin comments and Yoongi complies, water soothing his throat and diluting the taste in his mouth. Yoongi palms his stomach with a grimace, "think 'm done." The rapper says, sniffling. Jimin offers a tissue to which Yoongi blows his nose and adds it to the bin.
"Stomach hurting, Yoongi-hyung?" Jimin ponders, while Seokjin whisks away to clean the bin. Yoongi lays back down in bed, nodding weakly. "I'll go get you a heat back, hyung–" Jimin turns to leave but a cool hand grips his wrist.
"Jimin.. can you stay?" Yoongi mumbles, if he didn't say it then it might’ve never came out. "Oh, of course, hyung!" Jimin grins, taking advantage of Yoongi's request for affection and joining Yoongi in his bed. "Get some rest, Yoongi-hyung." Jimin whispers, flicking the lamp off.
Jimin shuffles closer to Yoongi, their bodies pressed together under the covers. Yoongi felt calmness wash over him just at the comforting presence of Jimin, something unique to the dancer. The pain and discomfort in his stomach was still there, and his nose is congested, but tiredness weighs over his whole body.
Jimin could feel the warmth coming off of Yoongi, no doubt a fever. Seokjin comes back in quietly to return the now clean bin, "sleep well, you two." The eldest smiles, exiting the bedroom. Yoongi can hear whispers of conversation and laughter from their living room, probably Jungkook and Hoseok returning from the gym. Yoongi's stomach gurgles, reminding him of his motive to fall asleep.
Jimin's small hand moves from Yoongi's waist to his stomach, starting some light circles. For the first 20 minutes, it's comforting for the older, however the gurgling and relentless nausea isn't letting up. Yoongi gives in to a few deep breaths, trying to see if he can cope. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Jimin is watching him like a hawk, lips downturned in worry. "You okay, hyung?"
Yoongi starts to sit up when mucus runs down his throat, prompting a closed mouth gag. Before he can make a mess, Jimin swipes the bin up, sticking it under Yoongi's mouth. He starts to empty what's left in his stomach, mostly bile and water. He coughs and Jimin has to pass another tissue so Yoongi can blow his nose again. He continues rubbing Yoongi's back just like Seokjin did and murmurs words of comfort.
"Sorry, you'll have to clean it again.." Yoongi sighs, voice hoarse from the ordeal. "Don't worry about it, hyung. I can leave this in the bathroom and get you something else, are you still feeling sick?" Jimin asks, concern clear in his voice. Yoongi shakes his head weakly, "I'm okay. Just sore, thank you Jiminie." Jimin takes the bin and eases the rapper to lay down again. Jimin leaves the bin in the bathroom to deal with later and returns quickly.
"Night, Yoongi-hyung." Jimin snuggles up to the elder. "I'll always look after you."
#bts#bts!sickfic#soft-for-yoongi writes#emeto#emeto mention#bangtan#jimin#emeto fic#sickfic#sick#yoongi#yoonmin#seokjin#hoseok#vomit mention#vomiting#snz#sick!yoongi#caretaker!jimin#comfort#caring!seokjin#caring!hoseok#snz fic#request
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tuesday again 9/12/2023
this series not sponsored by murphy's wood oil soap but boy do i wish it was
listening
this song popped up as the first video when i opened accursed tiktok to figure out what the deal was with that german engineer lady digging a storm shelter in her basement. this is the specific recording i want but the second video with a slightly longer intro... u have got to see Abel Selaocoe in motion performing Ka Bohaleng/On The Sharp Side.
youtube
youtube
i feel like every time i see a video of a cellist they're doing some absolutely bonkers shit and producing sounds i did not know a stringed instrument could make
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reading
i am constantly chasing the very high highs of raymond chandler's philip marlowe detective noirs. Human Target, a DC extended universe thing by Tom King and Greg Smallwood got real damn fuckin close.
i took thirty-five screenshots while reading these twelve issues. they are such a lush love letter to midcentury advertising. it luxuriates in period-typical stylized coloring in a way i do not see very often. i hope mr smallwood gets sucked silly every night.
one of the reasons for the tuesdayposts is to force myself to look at new things, bc sometimes i find shit i really like. i am remarkably unwilling to consume new things when i am not feeling good, even though new things i like are…not a keystone, but really up there holding together some arch in the viaduct of mental health or whatever.
anyway Christoper Chance is a man with a very specific skillset: perfectly imitating wealthy clients to lure out assassins. he takes a fatal does of poison meant for Lex Luthor and has about twelve days to solve his own murder before he dies. this is an EXTREMELY compelling reason for someone to haul ass through an entire noir novel in less than two weeks.
let's make some comparisons to other spy media i've seen in the last month. christopher reminded me a bit of loid forger from spy x family: same hypercompetent backup plans for backup plans and incredible disguise skills. im sort of...positively? fascinated by him, as opposed to the (also entertaining) train wreck of james bond's psyche slamming up against soft targets for two to two and a half hours. like there is womanizing in Human Target, but it is not the time-filling bond girl eye candy. do not worry, christopher FUCKS.
it is self contained within its twelve issues so i didn't have to read eighteen other crossovers and have encyclopedic knowledge of c- and d-listers from the silver age of comics. it was a very fair mystery. the twists and turns weren’t stupid. i know that’s not a terribly helpful observation but sometimes in a mystery…it takes a fucking stupid turn. most importantly imo it sticks its landing and understands that a noir is a subgenre of tragedy.
how’d i find it: has a pretty cover, stood out from the crowd on hoopla. americans, you probably have access to hoopla through your library!
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watching
@andmaybegayer referenced the youtube channel About To Eat in a recent mondaypost and i was so enthralled by this man's confident, dulcet, soothing and mustachioed tones. i had forgotten that i could in theory make french onion soup like myself. at home. soup season will not begin here for many months here and even then it's kind of pushing it, but i would like to eat some soup without melting!!!
overall About To Eat's recipes are a bit beyond my skill level and ability to prepare things in one sitting without joint pain but they are a display of competence i find very fun to watch.
youtube
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playing
ive rationed all my picture slots for other slots but i did finally obtain two of the country-specific fishing rods in genshin impact. they were extremely irritating to obtain but i trust you'll understand i'm quite pleased with myself.
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making
unphotographable things:
reactivating the dried sourdough starter from the horrible woods apartment of 2021, unforch rn it does look like when my cat regurgitates her kibble
sprayed the new couch down with some rather nasty insectide just in casies, it is still degassing in my office with the fan at helicopter speed and the balcony door open and towels shoved under the inside door for another 24h, also made plans to dye a big canvas dropcloth and strategically pin it in place for a cheapo slipcover
coffee table specific unphotographable things:
finally finished cleaning all seven
had to violently strangle the urge to repaint certain inner sections and made peace with touching up the worst of it with an oil-based paint pen bc let's be real nobody is going to look closely at that but me
pried some corrosion off one of the little brass decorative thingies, now it looks bad in a slightly different way
photographable things:
now this is a fun little record cabinet. i haven’t seen many pieces out in the wild that have that sort of vertical bullnose detail. makes me think of thirties waterfall dressers with their molded plywood rounded upper edges.
i can’t decide if the veneer on this piece is starting to really go (it is heavily crackled esp on the sides) or it was once owned by a smoker. the photo below is of the THIRD round of cleaning this front panel after upping the cleaning mix to a HEARTY 2:1 water/soap, and this was not the worst panel on the piece. mostly it really just smells like old wood? i don’t THINK the innards are cedar, bc that would be an odd choice for a record cabinet, but it is an oddly fragrant base wood.
there are some details that make me think it was never a terribly high end piece, or was maybe repurposed into a record cabinet? the veneer is quartered but somewhat indifferently matched, it has very indifferent nailhead finishing, and im not sure if the casters and record slots were later additions. i think the little door catches are original, but they aren’t magnetic yet which starts ruling out some later mcm. i would hazard this was made right before or right after wwii, but realistically it could be early thirties-early sixties. no makers marks :(
i will refinish this eventually. a bit nervous about how the front bullnoses might come out, i don’t really want to fuck around with veneer repair or like. grain painting. that’s for insane ppl and antiques dealers and i am clearly neither
free of ghosts, spider eaten on the house no additional charge with the friends and family discount
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people i’d like to get to know better as tagged by @firelise (& actually @khaotunqs and @boozles also, actually. ahh!!) and answered belatedly 💜✨thank u 🥺💜
last song: it was HONEY by mamamoo solar. i love this song put it in your brain now. that said i havent been good about going to find new music much in 2024 im mostly just cycling my wrapped from last year :c feel free to recommend me things i trust in my mutuals
favorite color: im aware this is a ‘getting to know me’ tag game but come on. you guys know right. you know dont you. you know
currently watching: word of honor, half-rewatching msp to make an anniversary set soon. ive been not watching very much lately (mostly its give me 23.5 or give me death and i guess gmmtv chose death)
last movie: im a Very infrequent movie watcher. possibly the first spiderverse movie when i visited my brother in december
sweet, spicy or savoury: sweet! ✨
last thing you googled: boomerang movie because of camille’s original tagpost. it does look so fashion. before that i was looking up a toy train museum in the city. i am like this
relationship status: critical condition (no)
current obsession: word of honor, and for some reason ikesoren from fe9&10 are splitting brain real estate these days. (for some reason read: the fire emblem gacha stole my soul again. please dont follow my example. dont play mobile games. please its not too late for you)
selfie/another picture you took:
my car window after eight hours of the valentine’s day snowstorm on wednesday…. everything is all ice now
tag in @khaoray, @chickenstrangers, @khaotunq ? no pressure or worries. 💜
#rowan lore#we had 50 degrees at christmas and snowstorm at valentines and its so icy because most of it melted already#the world is on fire
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Hi, srry to bother u but can i request an 8turn reaction to catching their s/o sing for the first time and they're really good and they hit a high note, again srry to bother.bye <33
♡︎8Turn catching you sing♡︎
༊*·˚𝔸ℕ˚·*༊
Thank you for the request sorry it took so long to respond too, and don't worry your not bothering me I appreciate requests or if anyone wants to talk I'm free to speak....well not whenever but y'know also I wrote this while getting my hair dyed idk if that holds importance to the way I write or the plot but enjoy <33 i wrote this a few daya or a week ago idk but my dad is currently in the hospital for his liver they told us it's failing (he had liver disease before this) so we're gonna stay in this hospital till 3:45 - 4:15am(it's currently 2:59am) give or take 30 mins but there gonna move him to OSU and there gonna watch over him for awhile and if he really needs the surgery then there gonna rush him into emergency surgery
༊*·˚𝔸ℕ˚·*༊
TW: Mentions of a hospital : Mentions of passing out : Mention of the song "London Bridge" : Minho being adorable :
♡ ╰☆૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ╮♡〰 ♡
𝕄𝕪𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕙𝕠♡
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He tried to stay quiet but his squeal gave him away and gave you a heart attack safe to say Myungho smothered you till you passed out then he got worried and took you to the hospital only to find out you fell asleep not passed out Myungho now labels this as the most embarrassing moment of his life
𝕂𝕪𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕞𝕚𝕟♡
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He will appear out of no where to hear you he was quite for the first 5 seconds before he knocked somthing over and scared you ofc you get mad at him for sneaking...well trying to sneak up on you but as quick as it came your anger disappeared cuz who can stay mad at him for so long?
𝕁𝕒𝕖𝕪𝕦𝕟♡
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Hed stay quiet the entire time and when your done we will pretend like he never heard it as too not make you nervous but you heard him singing the song you were and you put two and two together then started chasing him with a wooden spoon around the house
ℍ𝕒𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟♡
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He will join you. Like no matter if he doesn't know the lyrics he's singing along as back up vocals you two singing together is couple goals istg
𝕊𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕙𝕖𝕠𝕟♡
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Another one to try and be quiet only to giggle half way through and when he realized he giggled you would have thought he seen a ghost he quickly recovered and jokingly insulted you wich turned into you both roasting each other for 4 hours straight till Myungho had to break y'all up
𝕐𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕪𝕦♡
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One of the only ones to actually remain quiet and listen but after he ran in and smoothed you which led to the members to act surprised when you fell asleep at there dorm as if Yungyu hasn't been attached to you ever since he heard you sing
𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕠♡
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You were playing with his hair you thought he fell asleep so you started quietly singing "London Bridge" (this song is my comfort song specifically the music box ver of it many call it creepy but I love it) he opened his eyes and spun around with stars in his eyes "sing more I'm not really sure what your saying but I loved it"-Minho
𝕐𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕘♡
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Awkwardly hiding behind the door he swears he's gonna have a heart attack from how fast his heart is beating when he heard you singing "WE" once the song is over he waddles his way in the room and holds you in place for the next 6 hours whispering about how perfect you are (literally crying)
♡ ╰☆૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ╮♡〰 ♡
582 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤
4-13-23
Also how many of y'all like &Team?
Another also but why tf was there only 481 of us there? They deserve more views I swear also we Stan the fact that me and Yungyu and Han all have matching sweaters
Ss taken 4-11-23
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The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 10
𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.
𓅪 Rated: M | TW: Joker, violence | 6.3k
includes: Wayne gala, slow dancing with the batboys (u know we got height difference w dami), wet adventures w jay ;p, finally the backstory about the scar
fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]
Chapter Ten: Your Protector | ao3 - wattpad
THEN
True to his word, Jason got you an invite to the annual Wayne Gala.
Your mom only had one nice dress that she’d stolen while in Europe (X) , but it was a perfect outfit for the event, so you stole it from her closet. It wasn’t like she'd notice on the off chance she did stop by the apartment.
You’d pinned your hair in a few places to give your locks some dramatic volume to match the elegance of the night. Your light, smokey makeup accentuated the color of the vibrant blue dress and, somehow, ended up matching Damian’s navy suit.
Roy hadn’t been invited, though you already knew his rambunctious behavior would not bode well with an uptight, stuffy environment like this, but you?
You loved this.
Even though you were too shy to mingle and your mother’s dress was definitely made for someone her age and not yours, you were just as glad to follow Damian around as he forced himself to socialize under Bruce's watchful, read: warning, gaze.
He only really stopped to talk to a few people who eyed up your scantily clad body with a certain snobbish glare that only Gotham elitists could manage. You, on the other hand, were just happy to have found any sort of formal outfit. After the fourth grandma gawked at your tits, you asked Damian if he wanted you to leave, but he assured you made the event ‘much more tolerable.’ That was Damian speak for: he’s really glad you came.
It wasn’t until half an hour later that you managed to find the table of Waynes and were truly able to enjoy the gala. Tim and Dick waved you over eagerly, leaving Damian to trudge petulantly behind the slight train of your dress. Dick donned a dark gray, plaid suit complete with his usual messy-on-purpose locks, while Tim wore a plain, burgundy three-piece with an oddly patterned, colorful tie.
“Where’s Jason?” You searched around the sea of well-dressed socialites, but his signature gray streak was nowhere to be found.
“Well, hello to you too,” Dick was already standing when you approached and Tim was quick to do the same. “Nightwing Blue?” He raised a brow at the color of your mother’s dress.
You glanced down at the silky fabric and began to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles as you inspected the color. “I’d say it’s more of a darker Celtic blue than anything he’s had, but I definitely appreciate that that’s the first thing that came to mind.” You fist-bumped, noticing the glares from an older couple at the table next to you at such informal contact with, god forbid , a Wayne.
You pulled back sheepishly, allowing your hands to return to fiddle with the skirt of your dress.
“Don’t be that blood-orange bitch (X) ,” Damian snorted as he swatted at your unceasing nervous hands. “It’s fucking blue.”
“You wouldn’t even know that meme if it weren’t for me!” You admonished him.
He tutted lightly and checked out of your conversation with his brothers to focus instead on the dancing couples behind you. Your eyes flickered from Dick and Tim to Damian’s, following his line of sight as a new song took over.
“Why do you keep acting like you want to dance?” You questioned, “You wouldn’t even dance with me at the party.”
“That god-awful seizure you and Roy had together wasn’t dancing. This, ” He gestured to the graceful movements of the socialites right next to you, “is dancing.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that was Damian’s way of asking you to dance. Right, little wing?” You both turned to Dick’s crinkle-eyed smile, startled.
You turned back to Damian and took in his embarrassed state with slight amusement, “You want to dance?” You asked.
He looked at you warily, “You’re asking me?”
You raised a brow at him, “Would you have asked me?”
“No.”
You snorted and held out your hand as an open invitation, “Then, that’s why I asked you, twerp.”
“I resent that,” But he took your hand, nonetheless and guided you away from his analytical brothers, who still seemed baffled, if not slightly intrigued, by the entire interaction.
When you arrived on the floor, he came face to face with you before allowing his guiding hand to drop from your grasp. You’d never had any ballroom dancing experience and felt completely lost. Damian didn't seem to care as he confidently took your hand in his own and firmly placed the other on the small of your waist and drew you closer to him.
“Resent what?” You unwittingly let out a giggle as he immediately drew you into a spin that had you grasping for his shoulders. You caught your breath as your mirthful eyes peered down into his intense gaze. “The nickname or the fact that I asked you?”
He huffed, looking away from you, “Both.”
You let out a laugh in his arms, but it was cut off when he suddenly tightened his hold around your waist, steadily dipping your taller form languidly toward the polished wood below. His hazel eyes trailed down the exposed curves of your body shamelessly and you let him, relishing in his attention.
The band changed the tempo, starting a slower, sensual rhythm. You watched as the couples around you quickly shifted to an intimate embrace. Damian followed suit and raised you up to nestle you against his chest, adjusting his grip slightly lower on your waist.
With your already standing height difference and no help from your heels, the close position left him face-to-face with your over-spilling corset. You could practically feel the emanating heat of his cheeks against your chest. You startled slightly when his head slowly came to rest against it, but you quickly found your bearings and drew him closer. You laughed lightly as his eyes innocently met yours, knowing that, while he was far from the innocent boy he was portraying, he was still somewhat vulnerable like this.
Hell, if you hadn’t known any better, you’d probably thought he was going to kiss you or something.
A twinkle of hope rang out like ripples across his dark eyes. You couldn’t help the low gasp you produced at the sight.
Was your first kiss going to be with the Wayne heir at the Wayne Gala?
What the fuck?!
His poised lips parted and your eyes darted to follow as his tongue peeked out and glided self-consciously across them. A ringing note settled lowly across the crowd, drawing your eyes to his with a silent question. His hands dragging up to rest at the back of your neck was the only response you needed to bend slightly to meet him on an even level. You allowed your eyelids to flutter shut as you leaned into his constipated thinking face that you’d come to love. You noticed, with a hint of amusement, how he seemed to wait for you to lead with bated breath.
“Damian.”
You stepped away from him so fast you nearly tripped over your heels and fell into the couple beside you. When you regained your balance, you hesitantly met Bruce’s all-knowing gaze. With one look, he seemed to take in whatever information he hadn’t already deduced simply based on your shared eye contact. It was slightly invasive and incredibly creepy. Damian, on the other hand, seemed largely unaffected aside from his lingering blush.
Bruce gave Damian an unreadable look that Damian somehow understood in an instant. He then excused himself to follow behind Bruce’s retreating form without a glance your way. You shook your head, still spinning from the whirlwind of events that occurred in such a short amount of time and made your way over to Tim, who was busy petting an older woman’s crusty white dog. You greeted them both.
“Ah, I’m afraid I’m being stolen away,” Tim said once you arrived, petting the dog a final time before smiling at the woman. “Please continue to enjoy the evening, though! I think there’s an ice luge somewhere you should see.” The woman beamed with a jovial wave to your retreating forms as you made off toward Dick and Barbara at the aforementioned luge.
“Are you sure you don’t want to finish your conversation back there?” You looked back only to see the woman had already moved on to squeeze some poor kid’s cheeks.
He followed your line of sight with a chuckle, “Trust me, you’re doing me a favor.”
You shrugged, “Alright.”
The four of you messed around with the ice luge until Alfred caught wind of what was happening and came to usher you away. The last thing he needed was for you to get drunk at another manor party or worse- Dick got drunk enough to break out the karaoke machine. Alfred did, however, grant Tim the pleasure of taking a group photo in front of the ice sculpture.
Slightly buzzed and incredibly enraptured with your conversation with Tim, you hadn’t noticed the intensity of the pair of green eyes that rested on you from across the party until Tim’s eyes repeatedly shifted over your shoulder. Finally, you turned around to see just what the fuck he was looking at-
Oh.
There he was, across the room.
You watched, hypnotized, as Jason’s half-lidded emeralds shocked yours through the throng of people between you. He smirked once he realized he had your attention and made a slow show of tugging at his tie until it was sufficiently loosened.
He wasn’t wearing a jacket, you noted as your eyes trailed up his exposed forearms to his rolled-up sleeves.
You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to tear your eyes from the steamy show Jason was putting on to nod vacantly at Tim’s hypothesis. You vaguely heard something in his explanation for why the unstable particles were able to comprehend continuous observation, but you could barely contain yourself from looking back at Jason.
“Oh, I never thought about it like that!” You said cheerily after half-paying attention, which only suited to spur on Tim’s enthusiastic babbling, much of which resembled your own.
The fuel you threw his way allowed you to turn around again and you bit your lip at the sight that met you. It was as if Jason hadn’t even noticed you’d ever looked away because he was still taking each step with a tantalizing carefulness that left you desperately gulping for air.
He reached off a nearby tray and downed a champagne flute before seamlessly placing it on another tray, never faltering in the process. You were left to wonder how could you be so turned on just by the way he walked.
“Do you think?” Tim asked suddenly, effectively stopping you from drooling any further.
“Hmm?” You turned back toward Tim only to see him glaring. “What?!”
“Hey,” Jason’s low voice rumbled your name against the roar of the party deliciously. “Wanna dance?”
Tim took in your awed form and huffed to himself, “Of course.”
“What was that, Timbo?”
“We were just debating Quantum Physics relating to the Zeno Effect and how it could be linked to dark matter,” He said, looking to you for backup, but you were too entranced by Jason’s raw, sexual prowess to respond.
Jason easily noticed your hypnotized state and smirked, “No one cares what dark, kinky shit you’re into, Timmy. Let the woman dance.”
He didn’t wait for a response, though and you put up no protest when he guided your transfixed form away from Tim. You tried to shoot an apologetic glance back at him but were ultimately too enraptured with the weight of Jason’s steady hand resting at the small of your back to do so.
You were surprised he’d even suggested this in the first place, considering how reluctant he’d been to even dance at his own party. You thought back to Damian’s random desire to dance tonight and chalked it up to the most likely cause: dancing plague-causing fungi.
While Jason easily lost himself in the crowd ahead, you still felt Tim’s watchful gaze on you until you disappeared into the hallway just outside of the ballroom. A quick movement you'd caught out of the corner of your eyes had you slightly jogging to catch up with Jason’s suited form. You watched as he flitted around the caterers that lingered in the area before finally disappearing behind a corner with a beckoning finger.
A giggle escaped from your lips at the realization he wanted you to chase him.
You couldn’t help but find the entire situation highly amusing. Well, you chasing Jason around a mansion in an evening gown like some princess movie was amusing; you nearly falling face-first to the ground from the overwhelming length of your mom’s dress- not so much.
You flipped him off when he stopped some ways ahead of you to mock your plight. You quickly righted yourself and bunched the length of the satin fabric in your fists.
And, so, the chase continued.
“You’re never gonna catch up to me in those heels, babe,” He was jogging backwards now, complete with a tipsy, shit-eating grin. You wanted to rip it right off of his dumb, attractive face. “I could do this for hours .” You, on the other hand, were already panting lightly, with your ankles ringing out angrily in tandem with each stomp you took. You were sprinting at that point and yet were somehow further away from Jason than you’d ever been. “All that training, what? Three times a week?” His eyes wrinkled with mirth at your over-exerted form. “Damian’s bullshit about finding your anchor or something.”
“Fuck off ,” You whined, coming to a stop to lean against the wall of the empty corridor, attempting to catch your breath.
The sounds of the party had long faded. Not even the caterers had a reason to be this deep into the manor; yet, there you were with Jason.
You rubbed lightly at each ankle, rolling them one after the other. It was your second time wearing heels and these were a lot higher than the ones you’d worn to the party by a long shot, so your feet were definitely feeling it.
When you finally looked up, you noticed the hallway was empty. The glass doors at the end of the hall, however, were wide open, beckoning you closer. You limped down the hall before noticing Jason in the garden through one of the windows, waiting with his back turned to you.
“You like the chase or something, freak?” You nudged his shoulder with your own when you finally sidled up beside him.
“You don’t?” He raised a brow at you.
It felt like a question you would only truly understand enough to answer if you'd been older, but, for now, you merely shrugged. You were still figuring, well, everything out.
“Why’d we come all the way out here to dance?” You asked instead.
The gardens were done the Wayne way: over the top and absolutely magical. Everything was placed with precise intention that left you feeling like you were right smack in the middle of a fairytale.
You could somewhat hear the music, but it was more like a muted warble that carried throughout the courtyard with a quiet hum. Still, definitely nothing loud enough to truly dance to.
His gaze returned back to the fountain in front of you, “You may be enjoying that shitshow, but this is more my speed.” You looked around at the quiet that surrounded the two of you, noticing as he shifted beside you to face you.
The water from the extravagant fountain trickled in the silence while the symphonious sounds of the night chirped around you.
“I’m cool with whatever.”
He laughed, genuinely laughed, before extending his pale hand out toward you, “Cool.”
Your eyes crinkled, easily meeting his cold grip with your own, “Cool.”
A brassy tune settled across the garden as Jason walked forward to close the remaining distance between the two of you. His hold was relaxed, more tender than Damian’s rigid form had been. You allowed yourself to melt into his arms.
His feet moved with intention as he managed to avoid every misstep you made and changed direction with ease each time, dragging you lazily with him into a new rhythm. You giggled when he spun you once and roared when he continued to spin you, all while using his free hand to help your skirt lavishly fan out.
“Now I see why Roy calls you what he does.”
You snorted. “Can’t even say the nickname now, even when I’m quite literally a princess at a ball?”
Jason rolled his eyes and finished spinning you before drawing you flush against his sturdy chest. You gulped, allowing your eyes to travel up the careless, wrinkled remains of his suit all the way up to his emerald eyes.
Why was he looking at you like that? You hadn’t actually kissed that one night in the library as far as you knew, but damn, did this seem familiar.
Unlike with Damian, you rested your head on Jason’s chest. Your eyelashes accidentally tickled against his bare skin when they fluttered open to stare at the protruding veins and scattered moles that lay across the expanse of his pale neck.
“You are a princess.” You smiled, lips lightly brushing against the delicate skin of his neck in the process before you shifted to meet his gaze once again.
As if to prove him wrong, your weakened ankles collapsed from under you. Jason caught you with ease, bending his knees as he helped right you on your feet. It was a wonder you could look as beautiful as the socialites inside and still be as clumsy as you were.
“Maybe just to you and Roy,” You insisted with a gorgeous smile that left Jason visibly affected.
“Maybe,” He said weakly, drawing his face closer to yours with a delicate finger placed under your chin. He dragged you lazily up until your wet lips were practically against his. You waited for him to take charge and just fucking kiss you already , but his mouth merely twisted into a smirk. “You know, babe, I really didn’t think you’d actually go through with all of this.”
What?
You sighed, wishing he would shut up and stop stalling, “Coming to the gala? I mean, you did invite me, Jason.”
“No, not that,” He snorted. “I knew you’d come-”
You cut him off, “If you knew I’d come, then why did you ditch me until just now?” You were still centimeters away from locking lips, but the growing frustration between you was threatening to kill the mood with every passing word he spoke.
“I might’ve had a few,” Jason removed his finger from your chin, quickly sensing the shift. “Didn’t help to see you with the replacement. Maybe I just wanted to see where your loyalty really lies.”
“My loyalty?” You struggled from his grip and stepped away from him, feeling your guard go up immediately. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, rubbing at his temple, “I just didn’t expect you to follow me ’sall.”
“You…” You couldn’t possibly be hearing him right. Right? Clearly, he’d had too many and lost whatever weak filter he usually had. “Jason, you mean to tell me you invited me out here as a joke?”
“Not a joke,” He reassured you like that was somehow any better.
"A test then?" You rephrased.
“I suppose more like a test than anything, yes.”
“Jason…” You trailed off, not even recognizing your friend in front of you. “I don’t need to be fucking tested , you cunt.” The Jason you’d come to know would never have the nerve to say something so casual yet cruel.
He laughed humorlessly as he walked away from you and closer to the fountain, “You did.”
“Fuck you. No, I didn’t. What would even make you say something like that?” You followed after him, coming to a stop right next to him.
“Maybe because you’re so god damned annoying and never shut the fuck up,” He uncharacteristically snapped. “Ever thought about that?”
You gasped, feeling your patience slip further and further away with each passing second, “Says the stuck-up, angsty, woe-is-me fucker who has mood swings every two fucking seconds.” You shot him a venomous glare, “And that’s being generous.”
It was then that he got up in your face. You couldn’t help but be startled by his sudden anger.
“Oh yeah?”
You pulled yourself together, steeling yourself for whatever Jason threw your way.
“Yeah, buddy. Two can play this game,” You said indignantly. “And, you know what?”
“I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway, babe,” He drawled tonelessly.
Your face instantly scrunched up in anger, “I am!”
He gestured for you to continue, “Go on then.”
“My loyalty is with myself and only that. Don’t get it fucking twisted.” His breath caught in his throat unexpectedly at your statement. You used this to your advantage, stomping forward to take his face into your hands with a confidence you weren’t used to having. “Where does your loyalty lie, Jason?” His eyes flashed passionately with an intensity you easily met.
Did it still sound like the two of you were about to kiss?
If it had been a movie or one of those steamy romance novels he claimed weren’t his, maybe.
But this?
This was you and Jason Todd.
You pushed first, knowing it wouldn’t move him at all, but it was the thought that counted, “Back the fuck up, Todd .”
“Or what?” His eyes were pure electricity, crackling like heat lightening in the sweetness of the intimate night.
“Or find out what I’m about,” You insisted sharply.
"What you’re about?" He firmly poked you in the forehead with a mocking laugh. Your jaw clenched. “Find out what I’m actually about, babe. I taught you everything you know, dumbass, so go ahead. Try it again and see what happens,” He threatened your last name like a curse.
You smiled widely and humorlessly at the challenge, replicating exactly what Damian had told his family. Any time you would argue or spar, without fail, you’d have a creepy smile adorning your face. It was unnerving and you knew this, but you didn’t care if Jason thought you were psycho when you were already .0005 seconds away from pushing his smug ass into the fountain.
“This is so rich,” You gestured between the two of you. “For once, just once !” You reiterated, “I think I finally understand how you actually feel about me, then we go back to this dumb shit.”
You pushed him harder this time, which he replicated easily with a swift shove back.
Then, you were falling.
You felt the concrete ledge of the fountain hit your calf before you felt the shocking cold of the water as you plunged down into the fountain’s shallow basin. You thought, no knew , that he let you pull him in after you, probably after some guilty conscious thing, or whatever. Probably to protect you from hitting the bruising, stone bottom.
Whatever.
The running water from the fountain, along with the guests out front, were the only noises that stirred across the courtyard when you and Jason resurfaced.
You were both soaked to the bone in the middle of the Wayne Manor Gardens, arguing, poking and pushing at each other while Joker’s goons closed. A low, ominous chuckle reverberated throughout the gardens, though the chilling echo didn’t quite reach either of your ears yet through all the hormonal ruckus and splashing.
Jason pushed you back down into the algae-ridden water each time you tried to get back up, so you returned the favor by kicking the shit out of his ankles in order to get him low enough for you to tackle him back into the water too.
“You wanna fucking play,” He spat out your name in a low rumble. The noise tickled the tips of your ears as he pulled you into a loose headlock, which… felt good?
You stopped kicking up water, trying to place your confused thoughts while an intense blush steadily crept across your damp cheeks.
Jason, sensing your lack of movement, quickly let go, effectively dropping you on your ass in the fountain one final time. You both cursed at the same time and guiltily glanced at each other. It wasn't long before you were both laughing at the stupidity of the whole fight. Hell, the entire situation.
Jason waded closer to your shaking, wet form with a shit-eating grin and put his arm around your neck again, this time lighter.
“I bet you liked that shit.” He chuckled darkly and secured a slightly tighter grip. Feeling his muscled body flush against yours with his heat seeping through the cold wet of your own body, you couldn’t help the choked moan that escaped your rosy lips. “Oh,” He released you in an instant.
You turned around with your finger pointed, ready to start yelling again out of embarrassment when you heard it. A sound shook you to your core.
Goosebumps subconsciously trailed up your body like splintering ice.
You strained to make sense of the maniacal laughter that appeared seemingly out of nowhere, but Jason seemed to sober up fast enough for the both of you. He slipped out of the fountain at a lightning speed that you’d only ever seen him use during training. Before you could process anything, he grabbed you from around your midsection and hoisted you out of the freezing water.
Your dress was long and now extremely heavy as you tried to maneuver around its incapacitating weight to give you the ability to attack if need be, but it seemed to be in vain. He pulled you into as fast of a run as you could manage with your already strained ankles and added weight.
If earlier in the halls was any indication of how this chase would go, you and Jason both knew it would be over quickly.
Your breath came out in strained pants, unable to focus on the twists and turns as Jason guided you through hall after hall. You were definitely slowing him down and the goons were hot on your trail. You could practically hear their high-pitched, hyena-like cackling as if they were directly next to you.
Their presence was like an overbearing shadow that was threatening to envelop you whole.
At the last moment, Jason doubled back to a dumbwaiter shaft to shove you into the opening. He piled the remaining damp fabric of your dress in with you just as a group of burly men came into sight.
Under your weight, the mechanism dropped out from under you, sending you sprawling down until it smacked the ground hard. Upon impact, the cart jostled, sending shockwaves of pain reverberating across every bone in your body. You heard what sounded like struggles from above the shaft where you’d just come from and quickly realized that if they opened the hatch, they'd be able to aim their guns down and shoot at you.
Based on the howling laughing and gaudy face makeup, you deduced that these were most likely Joker’s men and you knew they wouldn’t mess around. Anyone who came into contact with them would most likely be injured and robbed, if not killed.
You gathered your bearings and heavy dress as you gracelessly fell into what you realized instantly to be the manor kitchen. While you’d only been in here a few times, you felt comfortable enough to know you could probably fit in the ground-level cabinets. After seeing how many cabinets there were in the expansive kitchen, you felt pretty secure in your hiding place.
You evened out your breathing, thinking back to what had just happened.
You now had the burden of time, left to wonder if everyone was okay. It was almost a curse to be here and safe while everyone else was still out there in the chaos. Your pitying, however, only lasted minutes before you heard a barrage of footsteps trampling around the marble tile of the kitchen.
It sure didn’t sound like scared party guests.
“How quaint,” You froze at the chilling voice that scratched at your ears. Joker . “I’m absolutely starving someone fetch me something.”
You heard Joker’s goons ripping apart everything in the kitchen and were startled by the banging of cabinets being opened on either side of you. It was only a matter of seconds before you’d be discovered. Your brain was completely shutting down.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” It was a big, bald man who ripped you from your hiding spot, leaving you no time to duck your head. You ended up smacking it against the top of the cabinet as you were aggressively pulled out.
You winced, trying to resort back to your self-defense training, but it was all eluding you as you were pulled tightly against his chest. The man secured both your arms with his own in an unescapable grasp. You were completely immobile, no matter how much you struggled.
“My dear,” Joker’s scarred smile slithered across his grotesque face, leaving you to uselessly pull away from his sudden close proximity. You could only escape so far back, however, before the back of your head hit your captor’s chest, “You’re completely missing the party upstairs! Shall we escort you back? You are, after all, the main event.” You didn’t say anything, attempting to avoid eye contact, but he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks as he did so to force your eyes to peer into his grizzly, yellowed ones. “It’s so rude to ignore someone. You’re amongst civilized people; best to act like a lady ,” He emphasized it with a swift crack of his jester-looking cane against your calf.
You cried out in agony as he replicated the violent movement with a bout of creepy giggles on your other leg. You quickly lost your balance, completely relying on the man restraining you to keep you standing. You uselessly dangled in his arms as your legs were too weak to support themselves anymore.
“What do we do with her boss?” You felt his chest vibrate with every word.
The goons around you eyed you up animalistcally. How you wished you could pull up your slipping bodice to regain some sense of modesty in front of these heathens, but it wasn't in the cards.
“Were you not listening, idiot?! Take her to the ballroom. Batman should surely be on his way at this point.” He skipped in place. “I love it when a plan comes together!” He glared at the man behind you and hissed. “Why are you not moving, you pillock? TAKE HER- NOW !” He erupted into an abrupt anger that easily silenced all the chuckles in the room.
A heaviness fell across the room as everyone moved in sinister tandem to grapple your injured, sopping form back up to the ballroom. You’d lost sight of the Joker on the way up but quickly found yourself face-to-face with Batman and Robin.
You wanted to laugh.
It'd been your dream to meet the crime-fighting duo for as long as you could remember, but not like this. Not while you were being pushed and pulled around like meat by these goons.
The heroes took you in, ruined makeup and hair, a dress that was barely covering your nipples and your legs that were doing more wobbling than holding you up after Joker's barrage of attacks.
“Let her go.” Batman’s voice was like velvet as it fell unsettlingly across the frenzied room of rich socialites.
Robin, on the other hand, looked absolutely rabid. It was as if he were barely holding himself back from killing the men behind you who stopped pushing you around at the commanding tone. Without their support, you quickly crumpled to the floor like a doll with a gasp of pain that emanated throughout the wooden walls of the ballroom.
Looking deeper into the audience, you saw Jason’s dripping form standing with fists held at his side next to a highly concerned Tim. They noticed your gaze and held it in what was supposed to be comforting, but it only made your stomach churn.
You were in trouble.
Big trouble.
The men snicked at your pathetic form as you scrambled to pull up your bodice over your exposed chest. You hoped Batman’s arrival meant that Joker was going to leave you alone, but you doubted it. You were only safe for the time being, though it was merely borrowed time.
You stared up at Batman’s form fearfully. From this angle, he was just as frightening to you as he was to the men behind you. You tore your eyes from his daunting form, searching around the room for some way to escape, but with your busted legs, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get far.
You were helpless.
“This is between me and Joker.” It was a ruthless growl that had you shrinking back along with the goons behind you.
At the resounding silence, Robin let out a frustrated cry.
“COME OUT AND FACE US, YOU COWARD,” Robin snarled, drawing his sword in an instant. You gazed at it in amazement as he unsheathed the impressive weapon and held it with a certain elegance that couldn’t be portrayed in any of the comic books you’d read.
“Haven’t you ever heard of the little old saying, ‘ be careful what you wish for ?’” Joker drawled as he theatrically circled your form, skipping and hopping once every few steps or so in a jerky, disturbing manner that had you shrinking away. “Oh, no, no, no . That won’t do. You’re the main event, sweetheart!” You shook your head, closing your eyes as he leaned in close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his face. You could smell the rancid sourness and gunpowder that emanated from his cackling form. Before you could blink, he battered you with the front, then the back of his hand, forcing your eyes open as he gripped your cheeks in a way that caused your mouth to pout outward comically. “Look at me, look at me ,” He whined in an eerie, childlike voice. “ LOOK AT ME.” Your eyes shot open at the intensity of his voice against his gritted, yellowed teeth, “Good. Good, girl.”
He giggled hauntingly at your terrified form before socking you squarely in the eye. You cried out at the intense blow that had you falling to the floor from sheer force. Once he was satisfied with your pained state, he turned his attention back to Batman.
You knew you probably had a black eye and bruised cheeks already from the hits, but if the vigilante didn't intervene soon, you knew it was about to get so much worse. And fast.
“See, this is good. We’re all here,” He knelt next to you before grabbing your face to haul you back into a kneeling position. You felt like a doll as you allowed him to lead your body where he saw fit. You hated it.
You hated him.
Mostly, you hated yourself for not having the energy to fight back.
He shook your face once more before releasing his clenched grip to stand and walk around whimsically again like he hadn’t just beat the shit out of you. “Celebrating, drinking expensive wine.” He motioned one of the waiters with a tray filled with champagne flutes forward.
They slowly walked toward him as he continued to beckon them obnoxiously. He smirked as worried murmurs settled across the room before grabbing the one closest to the waiter's body with a slow intensity.
You knew Joker was unpredictable, but this? This was just psychotic.
He held up the glass toward Batman in a calm, silent cheer before taking a sip.
You turned your attention back to Robin, who was busy sneaking toward you at the Joker’s brief lapse in attention, but it wasn't enough time. Joker opened his eyes just in time to see Robin nearly reaching you. The psychotic man didn’t hesitate to throw the filled glass of champagne directly at you. Robin was quick to take the hit as he pulled you into his arms and let his back take the brunt of the assault.
He hadn’t spoken since drawing his sword, but you didn’t have time to wonder why.
"You see," Joker’s henchmen were on you in seconds, savagely swinging haymakers Robin’s way to distract him from you. Meanwhile, Batman had also been swarmed as he tried to advance on Joker, only to be clubbed over the head by multiple henchmen wielding baseball bats. “It’s best I get what I want, Batsy . Or do you really just want to see her struggle as much as I do?”
As soon as he finished speaking, he rushed to your struggling form, producing a wicked-looking knife. You immediately stilled in the sea of your captor’s grasps. Multiple men tugged you back and forth, brushing the sockets of your arms as they caused the Joker’s intentional grip on the blade to slide back and forth against the delicate skin on your neck.
Blood steadily seeped from the stinging wound like a curtain of red. You hoped that, if this light cut into your skin had shed this much blood, that he wouldn’t go any deeper.
“Drop her,” Joker said suddenly and the goons obliged. You wailed in pain as you were dropped into the small pool of your blood that had collected onto the floor below you. He pulled you back up by your hair, causing you to wince at the stinging that spread across your scalp as he brought the knife to its point just below the stinging cut you felt on your throat. “That’s better, now. Isn’t it, sweetie?” You gulped and instantly regretted it as the blade sunk into the new spot he'd picked on your neck.
“ANSWER ME,” He tugged your hair again, forcing your head upward to look at him. You winced as you met his crazed eyes through your exhausted, half-lidded ones. His hits had really taken it out of you. That, coupled with the steady blood loss, you could hardly keep your eyes focused. “Pathetic,” He ran the blade up your throat in a swift, searing act of violence, leaving more blood in its path.
You struggled to take in air, though you knew he’d only grazed your skin. If he cut any deeper, you’d be toast.
He yanked your hair backward harshly, startling you from your brief thoughts, as he used the momentum of the motion to send you sprawling to the hardwood floor. Your body landed with a resounding thump as the back of your head made contact with the brutal surface below.
“Inject her,” Joker said monotonously, waving his henchmen on as if he'd become bored with the whole ordeal. You were swooped up again before you could regain your bearings, watching Robin desperately clawing in your direction, but he had too many men on him to allow him to come to your rescue. You were held in a similar fashion you’d been in the kitchen as a goon stepped forward and held out a briefcase. Joker’s giddy form, who danced at the sight. “Oh, goody! I do love a good concoction!” He unlocked the case to produce a bulky syringe filled with toxic-looking green liquid. “Number one outta mean something good, eh, Bats?”
You struggled at your human restraints while simultaneously looking for Jason and Tim in the crowd, but they’d moved from where you’d last seen them. Your stomach sank. Regardless of the gala guests, you felt completely alone in the crowded ballroom.
Your whole chest and bodice were slick and stained from the waterfall of crimson that steadily gushed from your gashes. You tried not to panic and to stay alert, but your head grew fuzzier with each passing moment.
All your injuries were mounting as your original adrenaline from the kitchen had worn thin, if not vanishing entirely. You braced yourself for what was to come next.
A/N: aint no party like a wayne party, right? oof
[next] || masterlist || pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar
#reader x jason todd#damian wayne x reader#reader x roy harper#reader x jason todd x roy harper#my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds#my fic:ars
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sweater weather
i got this idea from @cienlvrs so go follow 'em, and i got this prompt from this link right here!
sweater weather | m!reader x min jae-hwa (fake person), friends to lovers trope
synopsis: you and hwa have been friends for five years. when hwa takes you out to dinner at your favorite restaurant, she gets cold. cold enough that she asks for your sweater, in which you give it to her, forgetting that you left your ipod in there alongside headphones. you don't realize she has the chance to find your playlist dedicated to your feelings for her..!
(small caps)
your point of view;
"thank you for lending me this." hwa said, smiling gratefully as she took the sweater from you. "it was my pleasure. thank you for taking me out to dinner!" you replied, both of you smiling, you brought jae-hwa out of the restaurant and drove her home.
"i appreciate you y/n, you're really sweet." hwa said, out of the blue. "where did that come from?" even if you were confused and flustered, hwa continued. "i love when you lend me things, and take me to eat, or even just talking to me. it makes me so happy." you blush while you drive, taking glances at hwa from time to time. would she ever find out about your feelings for her? "i appreciate you too." you said, she smiled at you. that radiating smile, she would never know that you loved her.
when you arrived at hwa's apartment, she stopped before entering the building. she hugged you. "thank you for everything, y/n." she said. she turned around and left, leaving you flustered once more. you went to your car and drove home.
when you got home, you reached into your pocket to grab your ipod, but it wasn't there. you looked in your bag, nothing. coat pockets, nothing. you panicked and panicked, until you realized..
'oh no..'
narrator's point of view;
when hwa entered her apartment, she hugged your sweater. loving the strong scent of you lingering on it. she banged onto her bed, feeling something poking her hip. when she reached into the pocket of the sweater, there she found your earphones and ipod. with a smile on her face, she opened the ipod and entered the passcode, you being dumb enough to tell her, and starting looking.
your gallery was fine, so was YouTube. your search history was all cats and bunnies, but when she opened your Spotify, she found a playlist entitled 'My Min Jae-Hwa'
when she clicked it, she was greeted with multiple songs. a four-hour playlist, dedicated to her. she smiled, put the earphones on, and pressed play.
after about an hour and a half of listening, her pillow was soaked with tears. 'he loves me like this.?' she wondered, listening to the sweet lyrics, lovingly describing the singers love. though, it was never the singer's love you thought about. it was yours. hwa cried and cried, overwhelmed by the feelings pouring out of her heart, no one had ever loved her like this.
without hesitation, hwa picked up her ipod and dialed your house phone's number.
"hello?"
"y/n..!"
"hwa? why are you crying? are you oka-"
"i love you!"
"huh?-"
"i love you."
"i love you more, my hwa."
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its my first EVER story so uh.. is it ok-
without jokes i had so much fun writing this so if u had fun reading then u should uhhhhh follow me :3 :3 it would give me motivation to write more yaknow :3 :3 thank you! <33
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The Rock Slump of 2010s and 2020s
Just listened to the ‘Rock This’ playlist on spotify followed by the ‘Rock Out’ playlist, both of which boast the best in new rock and the rock of today etc. I felt physically ill, I could only listen to a couple seconds of the five songs I listened to before my ears compelled me to skip. The songs compiled of pop songs that had features from traditionally rock artists, loud guitar with extremely soft indie voices, songs that triple j would try to pass off as rock ( even though they are definitely pop/indie- sticky fingers sounding *gag sound*), some poor imitation of a past rock genre or just the most boring song you have ever heard. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH ROCK?!/?! Maybe I’m narrow minded as to what my definition of rock is, but it's so poppy and indie? While there are bands that can be found on these playlists that have that classic rock feel mixed in with a newer sound, (Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers, Bully, FIDLAR, Momma and Meet Me @ The Altar just to name few - took me half an hour to sift through the aforementioned playlists to find songs that I would genuinely add to my playlist) the majority is already popular bands (Paramore, Smashing Pumpkins), non-rock songs, tiktok formulated crap and indie-rock. I'm not trying to shit on indie rock, but to me it just doesn't have that certain something that other rock genres have, i feel as though it should just be classified as indie. Am I just a stickler, an old 67 yr old white guy crying out “back in my day”? Maybe I’m not searching hard enough or maybe we are in a The Rock Slump.
The goddamed Rock Slump has been occurring since the early 2010s, there hasn't been a decade-defined rock genre since the 2000s. I mean since the ‘creation’ of rock in the 1950s, there has been a consistent rock takeover, with it moulding into a different sound with each decade. The 1950s housed the rhythm and blues (which would eventually be coined as rock n roll) and legends like Chuck Berry, Little Richard and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (Pelvis). The 1960s saw the rise of the rock band and the rise in popularity of sub-genres (folk rock, psych rock). Notable mentions of the 1960s: The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Bob Dylan, The Zombies, Cream and The Rolling Stones. Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, ACDC, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Patti Smith, The Sex Pistols, The Clash, Talking Heads, DEVO, Blondie, The Velvet Underground, Gary Numan, Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order, The Stone Roses, My Bloody Valentine, Nirvana, Mudhoney, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Hole, Alice in Chains, Pulp, Oasis, Blur, Suede, Supergrass, Foo Fighters, The Verve, Silverchair, The Cranberries, Weezer, The Offspring, Green Day, Rage Against the Machine, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Nine Inch Nails, Limp Bizkit (lol, i had to), Radiohead, The Strokes, Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys, The White Stripes and so many more. I mean I could keep going. These are all iconic bands that anyone who listens to music can recognise. And while there are some pretty cool post-punk acts coming out of Ireland and the UK (Fontains DC, Black Midi, The Murder Capital and Wet Leg (don't kill me, they make good music)), they're still in the early stages of their success and its still pretty bare bones when looking at whats topping the charts (of which hardly any songs are rock). I cringe thinking about the sudden pop-punk that is happening right now with MGK and Yungblud, however Good 4 U does manage to get my head banging- even though I would classify Olivia Rodrigo as a pop artist. I mean what has happened to Rock in recent years? Lots of music critics and writers chalk it up to the massive rise in hip hop's popularity in the 2010s, while I think that's part of the reason, I also think that hip hop and rock have coexisted for a long time, hip hop cannot be the soul reason for the decline in rock. Sometimes Rock and Hip Hop even have a baby (Childish Gambino).
Is Rock the new Jazz? Will it ever come back? The current state of rock as shown by the Spotify playlists that caused this whole rant is depressing. The post-punk burst is promising but the pop-punk revival is brain-grating. Please god if you're there, birth us a new rock genre, I will be forever grateful. Maybe I am just mad that I missed out on some of the best years in music or maybe i'm seeing it through rose coloured glasses because I wasn't around for the shit and have 24/7 access to the gold. Was that too visual? Maybe I'm coming down from a Daisy Jones and the Six high? Maybe i'm just that annoying that im a ‘wish they were born in the 70s’ type of person
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Answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to get to know better
Tagged by @imaturtledontchaknow @mochachilled
Name: Y’all can call me Void
Sign: ♊ <3
Height: 5′6″ ?
Time: Like 1:20 pm
Birthday: June 8th
Favourite bands / artists: Kris Kristofferson my beloved <3 also Sabaton and Bloodywood
Last movie: Uhhhhhh that I actually watched? Probably Rocky or Hellboy but that was a while back. I did sit with my dad while he watched the new doctor strange and make snarky comments about the writing though.
Last show: Uhhhh Live at the Palladium I think - Joe Lycett was on <3
When I created this blog: That took way longer than I expected to find out but November 2021 apparently??? I've been here almost as long as I've had HRT????
What I post: Fandom shit I don't want to subject my followers on main to
Last thing I googled: α (we were discussing A/B/O in the gc)
Other blogs: The only one that's really active is my main @existentialvoidofexistence
Do I get asks: on occasion, but I would certainly be open to receiving more
Following: Uhhhh 930 people i like a busy dash
Average hours of sleep: this feels like a targeted question I plead the 5th
Instruments: I attempted both clarinet and drums but I hate practicing so I wasn't very good
What I'm wearing: pjs
Dream job: Unsure, but I'm leaning towards theatre tech
Dream trip: Back to the village in Spain we used to go to when I was a kid
Nationality: British (sorry 😔)
Favourite songs:
THERE AIN’T NOTHING SHORT OF DYING
HALF AS LONESOME AS THE SOUND
OF THEM SUNDAY MORNIN’ SIDEWALKS
SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN
(Sunday Morning Coming Down - Kris Kristofferson)
Last book: Uhhh i started Neverwhere but it isn't finished yet
3 fictional universes I would live in: Uhhh which ones are like irl but slightly less shitty
Uhhh idk that I have 20 people but @emotionalsupportknife @callalilycas @restingdeanface @tomokarithedoggo @teaghouls @demonicsoulmates @ghostdrools @fellshish @demon-sneeze @lorileopard @k1lljoys-make-some-noise @meabeck @winch3stersgirl I assume at least some of y'all have done this already but tagging u anyway so u know ily
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my forte lately has been writing random shit that absolutely no one asked for that has 0 plot and just me rambling but anyway here’s some Jankie based off of late to the party by kacey musgraves <3 it’s a v good song if u like girly girl cuntry <3
——
They're blowing up our phones
Asking where we are
Just say we're almost there
We ain't even in the car
You're rolling one for two
And I'm still picking out my shoes
Jackie’s nimble fingers expertly rolled a joint, hair half done and undressed while Jan hobbled around the room, one shoe on and wondering where the other had gone. She glanced up at the clock, Rosé and Denali’s party started in twenty minutes, and usually Jackie was ever so punctual, always the first at every function, but something about Jan relaxed her, slowed her world down and allowed for her to take a step back.
“Here. baby,” she said, pulling Jan down on the loveseat next to her, lighting the joint and holding it to her already painted lips.
Jan took a long drag, eyes fluttering and opening glossier and redder than before, a gentle laugh leaving her lips as she passed it off to Jackie.
“Rosie is gonna kill me,” she said through a giggle.
Jackie shrugged, taking a drag herself, much enjoying the alone time with Jan, something that seemed rare these days. “It’ll be fine, baby.”
Jan hummed in agreement, curling up against Jackie’s side.
I'm never late to the party
If I'm late to the party with you
By the time we get there
Everybody will be drunk
The chairs will be on tables
And the band will be unplugged
We're gonna look real good
But we're gonna look real rude
I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I'm...
By the time they were walking up the walkway to Rosé and Denali’s door, the party had been going on for an hour and they could hear the commotion from the walkway.
Jan lets herself in, Jackie never letting go of her hand as they snuck through the crowd in search of the brides to be.
She finds them and makes quick conversation, making the excuse that she didn’t want to monopolize their time when there was a line of guests behind them wanting to congratulate the two on their engagement. But in reality, Jan was consumed with Jackie and Jackie was consumed with Jan.
Jackie lets herself get taken around the party by her hand, just happy that Jan had let her into her life and her circle, even tagging along to a party neither of them wanted to be at very much felt good because they got to be with each other.
“Just so no one catches us leaving so early,” Jan whispers, pulling her to a private area of the house, still loud with commotion just around the corner.
Jan holds Jackie’s face in her hands and kisses her softly. “You’re all the party I need.”
Jackie rolls her eyes affectionately, but only to distract from the fact she was blushing. She catches Jan’s lips in another kiss and spins her around.
Late to the party with you
Oh, who needs confetti?
We're already falling into the groove
And who needs a crowd
When you're happy at a party for two?
The world can wait
'Cause I'm never late to the party
If I'm late to the party with you
Leading Jan around an empty kitchen that didn’t belong to them in a slow dance, tipsy from the cherry schnapps, Jackie fell in love. She dipped and twirled Jan in her arms, her heart full and butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Jan followed after Jackie’s move, afraid that someone would interrupt them and burst the perfect bubble they created for themselves in an otherwise crowded place. Giggling as they danced out of tune with the loud pop song playing in the next room over, Jan fell in love. Her heart pounded and her gaze softened.
“I love you,” they whispered in unison, looking into each other’s eyes for a second as realization hit both.
“Jackie,” Jan cooed.
Jackie exhaled. “Jan.”
“You first.”
“I love you, Jan, I mean it,” she said.
Jan snaked her arms around Jackie’s neck and kissed her nose. “I love you too.”
“Do you think saying ‘I love you’ for the first time at your sister’s engagement party is in bad taste?” Jackie pondered lightheartedly.
Kissing her again, Jan giggled. “It’s not gonna be as bad as when I propose at the wedding.”
Jackie feigned a gasp. “Rosé really would kill you.”
Jan hummed. “She might, but what do you say we get out of here?” She whispered into Jackie’s ear, kissing right below her lobe, one of the places Jan knew really made her blush, “I’ll sneak out the back and you sneak out the front? It lessens our chance of being seen.”
“Got it, I’ll see you out front,” Jackie said before Jan was scampering away, drawing more attention to herself with the way she skipped excitedly to the front door. Though, everyone was so caught up with other things that they didn’t notice her pass by, nor did they notice Jackie as she followed only a few feet behind her because now that she had her, she’d follow her anywhere.
No, I'm never late to the party
If I'm late to the party with you
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HI DARLING OH MYB GOD YOU POSTED IT ALREADY OH MY GOD OMOGOGM im the anon who requested skz x 1d songs im so sorry i locked in the whole day bc i have anatomy finals tomorrow for uni xD
listening to 1d songs as i read it (i miss my 1d boys <//3) fr i was a directioner before i was a stay and this makes me so happy
i agree so HARRRDDDDD perfect and little things are both made FOR chan and BY chan omg you’re so right the way he can be so insecure about himself i just wanna shower him with compliments and remind him that hes beautiful every hour every minute every second of the day </3 and the way you made hyunjin’s last first kiss was PERFECT🥹 i love this song so much (take me home 1d’s best album, i stand by it) han and felix would be the type to be in a fun and adventurous couple doing just about anything and everything and just vibing midnight memories & why dont we go there describes them so perfectly ❤️🩹now onto my baby my innie <//////3 both summer love and fool’s gold are so angsty but when u put it this way it is beautiful 💔 i want to for real go on dates with jeongin where we go on picnics and just vibe, or go restaurant hopping and rate their burgers and just be silly together and now i’m realizing he is also so change my mind coded AAAAHHHHH
this is so very delusion inducing and i’m gonna be brainrotting this for WEEKS while listening to 1d songs with a smile on my face again !!! the way you wrote for each member and matched them with one direction songs I AGREE SO HARD i cried you actually posted this bc i’ve been looking through ao3 wattpad and all of tumblr and ONLY YOU did it im so happy this is my 1dxskz crumbs fr THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥹 i’ve been following you since 2022 and have my notifs on HAHAH :D i love ur works and i just wanna know what your favorite one direction song(s) is/are 💗
sorry for yapping i just appreciate this so much xD
HI HI HI OMG GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR FINALS TOMORROW!! YOU'LL DO GREAT 💖
i was actually waiting for your response in regards with the headcanon AAAAND i'm so happy that you loved it!! i was a directioner way back in 2012-2015 tho and i still listen to their songs until now (fr fr i miss them too and has been waiting for a freaking reunion 😭)
it took me hours to find a song that would suit each member, skimmed and scanned every possible songs with their lyrics HSKSKSK i was supposed to write What A Feeling for seungmin, No Control for lee know and Happily for jeongin but yeah 🥹 there are a lot of 1D songs that could describe the members HSKSKSKSKS i wish i could write them all down HAHA hyunjin could be Long Way Down too yk? the one that really got me is Last First Kiss for him and Temporary Fix for changbin, chan is obviously Perfect of course and Lixie has a lot of potential songs, Han too 🫶🏻✨
i appreciate you having to ask me about it, and i apologize it took a while to have it posted here 😭 i wanted to write more of this but i have another series to finish HSJSKSKS too many wips in my google docs too AAAAA and thank you so much for being with me since 2022, for having my notifs on and for loving my works 🥺 i wasn't expecting it, you’re so precious honestly!! ☹️💖
as for my favorite songs, THERE'S A LOT OF THEM LIKE; Love You Goodbye, Infinity, Ready to Run, Why Don’t We Go There, Where Do Broken Hearts Go, More Than This, Half A Heart, I Wish, Moments, They Don’t Know About Us, Olivia, Spaces, Up All Night, Perfect, Best Song Ever and the list goes on 😭😭😭 ooooh and i loved harry and niall btw 😔 how about you? mehehehe
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hiii I'm sorry it took me sm time to reply i miss sending you these asks and talking to you 🤧 my hols have been going crazy with just tution class after tution class hh i did go on a 2 day trip last weekend tho and it was a nice break <3 (minus the part where we got drenched in the rain for like 2 hours straight. weather forecasts are scams.)
also screw uni for giving you a hard time :( just so you know I'm so proud of you for having the courage to move to a new place and to work on whatever you're studying right now despite not liking the city <33 manifesting sm fun moments and things to look forward to for you 🕯️🕯️ the weekends coming so hope that makes you feel better !!
help i had to Google up fire and air signs my astro knowledge = pinterest memes lol hfhfj all ik is I'm taurus. so after extensive research I've learnt that I have a thing for * drumroll * aquarians and capricorns (and the occasional Aries and cancer <33) hfjjf i had to search up all of my biases' zodiac info. i literally remember only hoshi's gfdhj He's not my bias (yet ??) but i find it funny before he's like, the Gemini of geminis 😭😭
YOO SEHUNS RAPS ALWAYS, LIKE ALWAYS, GET ME 'thats right my type' from his part in monster is stuck in my head rn. monster by exo <333
(OMG also you can drive ?? THATS COOL i wanna learn it so bad i can only drive a bike rn lolll bc you can only learn to drive cars from when you're 18 here)
HFJKDJFBJ i have a couple more exo memes (half of them are cursed hope no one checks the gallery in my phone) but for sm reason I'm not able to send pics or link things here Tumblr do be getting nastier by the day
the ncit coding thing was jungwoo the mechanical engineer and the others era LMAOO but that concept was 🥴 ngl college aus are a guilty pleasure for me and the shit they did just made my imagination go wild lol THE SPIDERMARK AGENDA THOOO DIDNT THINK HED ACTUALLY DO IT but again mark is the most likely to do smth like that
Do not talk to me about Lee donghyuck from that era. Just. Don't. He hot. HEWASINSANEFORTHATLIKETHECABLESTHINGWASFINEBUTTJFHRHKFCOLOURPALLETTEANDTHELOLLIPOPFUUUUUUHFHHF.
2 baddies is the catchiest song there exists the title makes me crack the fuck up its so funny DJFKLA i love it tho!!!!! havent checked out the whole album yet but designer's been on repeat its so good!!!! if you listened already, tell me your faves and ill make sure to get to it soon so we can talk abt it :pp
2 baddies 2baddies 1 porsche stil makes me giggle ngkf i haven't checked out the album yet hh (damn i have this and brand new by xiumin but i chose 28 reasons by goddess seulgi over both of them shhh) but i did listen to designer and hmmm <333
p.s. ily bar take care !! and stay safe 💕
its okay!!! we are both busy and mentally tired, send asks whenever you want to! i miss talking to you too tho and i wish life wasnt such a bitch to both of us lately 😡😡 im glad to hear u had fun on the trip!!!!! I got drenched last week as well bc my dumb ass forgot to bring an umbrella with me so im kind of sick ever since and its getting on my nerves 😭
thank you!! i am really fortunate that for the first time in my life, im interested in what im studying and im actually having fun in classes, so thats whats keeping me going tbh <3 also i think im slowly making new friends so i feel a bit better now :')
AHAHA VALID im only like a 30% astrology hoe i only know the very VERY basics. and omg youre a taurus!!!! my best friend is a taurus :) i seem to be getting a lot with tauruses AHAHA also aquariuses 😭 90% of the kpop scene is an aquarius so its very valid but i get it bc i am weak for them as well.
SEHUNS RAPS >>> also BRO my tiktok suddenly decided im in my exo-l era i keep getting exo tiktoks on my fyp and its so funny bc its so random but i also love it ???? 😭😭
i cant drive! 🥰 thats one of the main problems bc im supposed to have the driving exam in like 2 weeks and bro am i not doing well. i keep making stupid mistakes and im so scared im not gonna do it AHAHA here u can get your licence at 17! they let u drive with someone 18+ with at least 5(?) years of experience until you turn 18 and then u can drive on your own :) i actually waited longer to get my licence bc i was scared LMAO but its weird that at 19 i was the oldest in my course
SEND THOSE EXO MEMES ANY OTHER WAY PLEASE I AM IN NEED OF SOME FUNNY CONTENT. LITERALLY DM ME OR GET MY DISCORD I DO NOT CARE
college aus!! my weakness!! jungwoo and hyuck in sticker era 🥴🥴 but also 2 baddies jungwoo?? i lowkey think him and yuta are my 127 biases now if we exclude markhyuck bc im a devoted dreamzen LMAO
also THECABLESWERENTFINEISTILLTHINKABTITSOMETIMESANDIGETALITTLEFERALBUTALSOYESTHECOLORPALETTEFUCKIMSOCRAZYFORHIM
i did listen to the whole album but only in the bg as i was doing an assignment so i wasnt really paying 100% attention 😭😭😭 bUT designer has been on repeat its so good!!! other than that one i really enjoyed time lapse, gold dust and black clouds! Let me know which ones u like when u listen to it!!
I GOTTA LISTEN TO SEULGIS ALBUM AAAAAA i havent had the time to yet!!! but i did hear the title track on tiktok and the "i kiss your brother" is all i needed to hear to know that this will be lifechanging and i need to listen to it soon
I love you a lot! :) thank you for always finding time to come here and talk to me. take care and tell me all about how youve been next time!! hope you have a good week <3
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