#and anyways re: this [The Change gets messed up] idea it's more of an inconvenience lol but one that could still have some significance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

datawyrms · 3 years

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Happy DannyMay everyone! i say while dropping this. For day one, Memories. sorta kinda sequel to this Half a Decade Late

He said he’d never hate them. Back when he thought it would only be a matter of time until he found a weakness, a flaw and squirmed free. He always had before. He didn’t like being captured, and he certainly didn’t like getting shoved into cages, but it was always temporary. A terrifying inconvenience. Something he’d shrug off eventually and forget. Lately he was starting to realize he’d forget that he ever considered thinking charitably. Just like all the other things he couldn’t quite remember.

They took everything. His freedom, his limbs, his skin, his voice. So many things he had the misfortune of learning he could recover from with enough time. Really broke the idea that anything about you was special. Did it matter that they ripped him open when the green slime he was made of would eventually cover the hole without even a sign of the pain it caused him? He just stopped caring. Ghosts didn’t feel pain. Maybe if he believed that enough, he wouldn’t need to feel it. Hurt was just a matter of perspective.

He was changing, apparently. The spectral copies of his human organs they stole over and over again stopped being perfect copies. Sloppy. Apparently his body was forgetting what the real ones were like. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been human anyway. That was fine. It was the only real way he could bother them now, being ‘less useful’. Obviously he didn’t need them that badly. He envied some of his fellow prisoners. They were just green inside. Nothing the vultures wanted, nothing for them to mutter and prod at while he struggled uselessly.

He didn’t really know why he still bothered to do that. It never worked. Some impulse. Just better than keeping still. He never really was a human, was he? Humans didn’t treat other humans like this. So he wasn’t one. So why did he ever think he was?

Tie was weird. Maybe having a soul made you act all funny. He’d been tempted to change her name, to no-mask or just face, but the words didn’t feel right, sort of caught on his tongue. Even when he didn’t have one sometimes! Tie just slid off easily. Like he’d said it a lot, or something like it.

So the newbie remained Tie. And Tie was weird. A good kind of weird? She didn’t just tell him to shut up, anyway. Most of them were boring like that. Though not getting shocked into unconsciousness did make the days tend to drag a bit more. She did make his head hurt sometimes, with all the weird reactions Tie made. It always passed though.

He kept playing with the lights up there so they would flicker and crackle, just to check if it was a Tie day. Sure, that got a good amount of shocks when it wasn’t Tie, but they were always grumpy after he’d lost a limb or two. It was almost amusing again. That was the word. Maybe?

“You don’t remember Amity at all?”

Frustration and anger that was directed at him, but also not. Tie was super strange like that. “Why would I?” His response just made her eyes narrow more, but she didn’t do anything to take it out on him. It was hilarious.

“That’s where you’re from.”

“News to me.” Might be a lie, might not. Gun grunts said lots of weird stuff. He shifted position, watching her while upside down didn’t make it easier to tell if humans were lying or not, but did make her scowling funnier. “That’s where you’re from then? Or that other name you keep using.”

“You can’t actually be him. Fuck.” She was rubbing at her forehead, looking away at nothing. “You remember ghost hunters but not Amity Park?”

“Hey! Names are hard, Tie. Isn’t like you know the name of every town you’ve ever been in.”

“No, but I remember the one I lived in most of my life!”

“Good for you! I’d clap but I’m kinda under armed for the task.” Under armed. He snickered as she only rolled her eyes at his joke, but it only made him think of another one. “Isn’t like a ghost lives anywhere.”

“You’re in here for hell knows how long and you can’t get better jokes?!”

Tie’s irritation just made it funnier. “These are gold! Way better than the stuff you guys laugh at.”

“Like what?”

“Oh you know.” The humour of the moment passed as he got back up, wondering if he should give the old ice trick another go. The noises were fun. “Like how the ghost won’t eat, but ghosts don’t breathe either. So the ghost can’t do much to stop ya.” As if Tie didn’t know. She still made the weird pinched expressions though. Why bother? It didn’t really matter if she actually had a soul still. Those ones just quit and then there’d be a new newbie. “Lots of you think that’s reaaaaal funny.” He stuck out his tongue, gagging. “Gross gun grunts.”

“That’s not funny either.”

“Try breaking your funny bone a few times. That’ll fix it. Or was that computers?” He frowned, rubbing his fingers against his chin. Computers. What was it about computers again? Re-re-something? Like with bones when you...did something…

“Phantom!”

That jerked him out of his considerations. “Still not him!” Now that he checked, Tie looked like she’d been trying to get his attention for awhile again. That, or she’d figured out how to teleport closer to his cage. Both were very possible. Probably.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you.”

“You were talking?”

“For someone who says he isn’t Phantom, it sure gets your attention fast.”

He shrugged. What did Tie expect? So what if he noticed it? It didn’t mean anything to him, personally. It was like comp-whatevers. “You could say the coats were coming and I’d do the same thing.”

“Doubt it. You remember Jack and Maddie maybe?” Tie hesitated, as if saying something to him actually mattered. “Your parents?”

“I’m a ghost. And possibly a starfish. Since I do the whole regenerating thing.” He’s pretty sure it’s starfish that do that. “I don’t think they’re big on families.” He thought that was pretty amusing, having like. Little voiceless things that cling to rocks as parents. Actually had a bit in common if you thought of his cage as a rock? Tie didn’t agree, based on how he was biting at her lip and clenching her fists. Still no shooting. Still super weird.

“Be a mercy killing at this point…” Tie wasn’t actually speaking to him, but it was interesting. Killing what? One of the other ghosts maybe. “Sam, Tucker? Any of them ring a bell?”

He certainly didn’t have a bell in here. “Sam...and Tucker are names?” He guessed, shuddering a little. Weird names. Made the gooey mess of ectoplasm he was made of wriggle when he said it. Like when he was struggling to digest something, uncomfortable and heavy and just making him want to move when he couldn’t. Though he could this time. Zipping up to the top of his cage helped shake the feeling off, at least. He wasn’t saying those again, no thank you. “You have weird tricks, Tie”

“They’re just names. I didn’t do anything to make you fly up there. I half thought you couldn’t do that anymore.”

Tie did have a bit of a point. When was the last time he’d flown up here? “Think I forgot I could?” He didn’t really move much in general. Not like he had anywhere to go, his cage didn’t really change.

She just looked tired. “This isn’t fixable.”

He wasn’t really paying attention, poking at the edges of his cage with his feet was pretty entertaining. It tingled a bit when he got pushed back, but flipping over in the air was easy. Why didn’t he float more? “Gun grunts don’t fix things, so Idonno why you care.”

Tie wasn’t paying much attention to him either, muttering to herself. “Manson would kill me for doing it. No way she’d believe you’re like this. Let alone the Fentons...”

Well, that was boring. He busied himself with counting how many seconds it took for the shock to stop coursing through him when he touched the walls. Though it was a bit tricky to keep track between tries.

“Skulker? Ember? You at least remember the ghosts, don’t you?”

“Are you just making names up now Tie?” They just sounded silly. The thought of someone named ‘Skulker’...who was also very tiny. Now that’d be funny. Kinda liked that idea actually.

“Probably don’t even remember the guy who put a million on your head…”

“A million whats? Questions? That’s more a you thing, Tie.”

“No, Vlad. The mayor?”

“The what?” Things weren’t funny anymore. He wasn’t cool and passive. That word, there’d been others but he didn’t even care what they’d been. The V had been enough to set his core to a furious pulsating heat of fury. His ice claws clung to the wall even as the buzzing in his skull grew stronger as the field tried to shove him back. “WHERE” He snared, not caring how his throat burned from the partial wail trying to scrabble out of his throat. Tie didn’t matter, nothing mattered and he actually missed his arm since not having it made it harder to keep his grip and snarl at the one backing away from his prison. “WHERE IS HE?” Oh he’d order anyone, and they’d listen or he’d shred them as soon as he got through- but his claws were cracking- green and red staining and corrupting the fine edge he’d honed so often. Why did he care? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know, he just had to act and now, just in case. The chance might slip away and he wouldn’t, they’d pay they’d pay, they’d PAY.

“Danny! Stop hurting yourself, he’s not here!” Tie was blathering, but at least backed away when he shrieked at her. Stupid Tie. Didn’t know anything. “Hell. You don’t even know why you’re mad, do you.”

He kept slamming the ice back in place, even as his arm weakened and started oozing. He didn’t need his legs, he didn’t need arms, he didn’t need anything. Just OUT. NOW. He snarled and snapped at the metal that grabbed his back and slammed him hard to the ground of his cage. It ignored him and the awful warmth that had consumed everything. He never won against it but now he had to keep trying because-because the anger? Because of something. The metal easily ignored the green surging pulses of electricity, just kept pressing down on him until he wasn’t solid enough to struggle, not strong enough to scream at it. The awful stabbing feeling in his core wanted him to act, but he couldn’t even defiantly flick his tail as he grew colder and slipped out of consciousness.

Everything hurt and it wasn’t even Friday. At least. He didn’t think it was? He’d have to ask Tie about it...if Tie showed up again. Something about her gave him a stab of unease. Might have something to do with all the green stains in here. Didn’t remember getting shot though. Strange. Must have done something. Maybe. Didn’t really matter.

#Danny Phantom #Dannymay2021 #dannymay #valerie gray #many terrible implications #i couldn't help it i had more pondering #vals no good day mark 2 #now to endlessly not decide if i should make a compilation on ao3 #or just stick things to the ends of the phic phight stuff i'm doing

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

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Premise: Everyone in the world is born with a Curse.

Curse-AU world-building thing: Baced of this post by writing-prompt-s

Don’t know if anyone’s picked it up on it but I love world building and have messing around with this premise for ages. Anyway, decided to make it a Mystery Skulls fic because I wanted to write Lewvithur stuff and wanted an interesting setting.

Pairings: Lewvithur

....

"Do you think she's okay?"

Lewis folds his arms, restless, glancing down at his lot number. 65. It put him near the end of the queue and the waiting is disagreeing with him.

"It's Vivi...she's the only person I've ever see get excited about knowing her Curse."

Arthur's reassurance is at odds with his fidgeting and own restless movement.

The hall around them slowly empties as, one by one, people take their turns entering and exiting the old community centre, temporarily repurposed into an Identification Centre. Almost half an hour ago Vivi had disappeared behind the makeshift wall which was bisecting the usually larger room in half to get her Curse identified.

“I mean it’s probably going to be a continuation of her bloodline curse so it’s not exactly going to be a surprise.”

Lewis immediately picks up on the undertone of bitterness and resignation in Arthur’s voice and reaches out to rest a hand on his friend's shoulder in a gesture of comfort, “There's always a chance a bloodline curse will skip a generation.”

“A small chance,” Arthur snaps, before wincing, “Sorry. Vivi might be happy with her family’s weird monster hunter Destiny Curse but Bad Luck curses suck and the Kingsman one hasn’t skipped a generation yet.”

“Bad Luck curses are manageable," Lewis reaffirms, sounding more certain than he is, “Lance handles his one just fine and there are all sorts of strategies and wards to mitigate the effects of probability-based curses." He lets his arm fall back to his side.

Of course, everyone hoped to get an Innocuous Curse. A curse that caused a small inconvenience in the individual’s day to day life. Lewis's mama had a Curse which manifested in her accidentally breaking one glass item a day. His dad’s Curse had him to stumbling when moving through specific doorways. When it came to Curses, a mild inconvenience was the best one could hope for. Usually, having two parents with an Innocuous Curse would increase his chances of getting one in the same category. Heck, one more iteration of a Pepper having an Innocuous Curse that involved breaking small objects the family would have one of the word’s most inane bloodline curses.

Only, he's adopted, so Lewis has no idea what to expect. He doesn't want to inconvenience his friends more than they already were, saddled with their respective bloodline curses. He exhales unhappily. Obviously, his sigh is a little louder than intended because Arthur glances over, mouth opening as if to ask something. Before Lewis can wave away any incoming concern, Vivi finally re-emergences.

She comes strolling out from around the makeshift barrier, practically skipping past the two stern government officials who were blockading the area. Her enthusiasm is at stark odds with the dourer atmosphere hanging over the remaining waiting crowd.

"A destiny of monster hunting awaits," Vivi crows in triumph as she hurries closer, garnering serval incredulous glances. "Was worried I was going to get mom's boring one for a second there... now dad has no excuse but to start teaching me his hunting stuff. So much for Mystery's warning that it would skip this generation."

"...congratulations," Arthur mumbles, gloomier than before, eyeing the official curse certificate that Vivi’s brazenly waving around. Usually, Curses weren’t things you celebrated.

Vivi laughs, takes a second to read the room, and sobers up a little "Ah, sorry. I mean...it’s a little exciting."

Lewis offers a smile, Vivi’s enthusiasm is contagious, “I’m happy for you.” Which isn’t a thing you would usually say to someone who’s found out it’s their destiny to hunt monsters but Vivi makes even the darkest parts of the world that much brighter.

“Thanks Lew. I know it’ll be a bit of an inconvenience when the Curse really kicks in in a few years, but I’ll make sure I’m prepared for it. I’ll do a load of training and we’ll have a good excuse to travel all over the place.”

“Lot 63″

The metallic voice echoes over the room’s speaker system, interrupting Vivi’s rush of dialogue, bouncing off the wood-panelled walls and floor. Simultaneously, as if of one mind, both he and Vivi turn to check on Arthur. He's turned several shades paler, hand tightening on his lot number, turning his knuckles white.

Vivi reaches out to hold the hand, squeezing it to loosen Arthur's death grip, “You’ll be fine,”

“My dad died because of his Curse” Arthur objects, voice high-pitched.

“Knowing what your Curse is doesn’t change things immediately. There’s always an adjustment period.”

Lewis nods, reaching out to take Arthur’s other hand, which fits easily in his palm, “Whatever Curse you get, we’ll have time to work it out.”

“63″ The voice sounds again, mildly impatient as, whoever it was, waited for Arthur to come forward.

“Right...yeah. It’s not the end of the world,” Arthur breaths in and out in a calming motion, forcing himself to step forward. Lewis gets a small, abet strained smile, and he lets go of Arthur's hand.

“I’ll be fine,” He hears Arthur repeat, walking past to be ushered out of view by a board-looking security guard.

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #curse au #lewvithur #i don't know what this was going to be but felt like writing some pre-slash #Pre-Slash #nothing really happens past some hand holding #not really a fic #ot3

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paradife-loft · 4 years

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1&2 for general, ships, characters & story

General

1. If you had to join a sect, which would you join?

Ahahaha oh, oh no, the difficult question!!! *covers face*

Tbh I would. join the Lan sect and then be like, the most problematic Lan ever to Lan XD (”But James, don’t you have a reflexive fight me!!! response to rules and authority....?” yes maybe so shush now that’s why I said problematic.)

Like the thing is. I DO like being a nerd, and I DO like the idea of cultivating with music certainly moreso than with swords look I do not enjoy physical exertion a lot of the time, and I semi-regularly become full of emotion and start wailing to whoever’s nearby about wanting to live in somewhere as beautiful as the Cloud Recesses??? It is SO lovely there. Also the only other option I was considering, the Jiang, tbh gives me the impression that I would die miserably of humidity in Yunmeng sooooo :/

But also for real I am... a lot more chill with following rules when I agree with them about their purpose being to better you ethically and also to form a cohesive community, and I’ve chosen to adhere to them by my own will? Uhh, demonstrably lmao. But yeah I’d definitely still be Arguing about things and eating hot peppers in Caiyi town and playing the “it’s not really drinking if you neutralise the alcohol” game ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. Your three favorite characters?

*lies dramatically on the ground* How am I supposed to pick just threeeeee???

But ok, so, Jin Guangyao, and then *spins the roulette wheel for today’s picks* probably Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian, averaged out?? But I have a lot of feelings about Everyone ;u;

Ships

1. What’s your OTP?

*chinhands* Surely we all know this by now :P

2. What’s your NOTP? Or any other ship you hate?

Uhhhhh hhhhhhh hahaha ngl I usually feel guilty talking about notps in public??? Probably bc often as not it’s more about “90% of the content I see in the fandom is relatively fluffy and/or mundane and/or lacking in meaty conflict and therefore bores me to tears” oops.

But I will say tbh that I have a pretty visceral unhappy NOPE reaction to LXC/NHS in. Probably 95% of contexts ever. Unless I feel particularly into reading, like, sex-as-self-harm fic on any given day, lmao.

Characters

1. If you could date any character from MDZS, who would you pick?

Lol, none of them.

2. If you had to kill a character, who would you kill?

Save a sex worker or POW, toss JGS off a cliff :) (predictable answer but hey) (I mean, this is distinct from an answer to “who would I kill at a point in the story prior to their actual death,” but. I would be remiss at existing if I didn’t take the opportunity to say I would kill JGS given the slightest excuse.)

Story

1. If you could make one major story change, what change would you make? Why?

Ahhhh, hell. Actually, you know what? I would slightly revamp Qin Su’s character to have her be aware of her parentage since roughly the same time as JGY is, and have them both separately keeping that a secret from one another for roughly the same reasons. She’s disturbed by the letter from Bicao simply because of the implications around someone wanting to make this knowledge public. (On the other hand: she DOES still ask JGY about how Rusong died, and IS still angry and horrified by the attitude he takes to that question and the implication that he was the one who orchestrated that death, because wtf just because his parents were siblings doesn’t mean he should have been anything other than a happy, perfectly loved, alive child??? Get a fucking grip!)

...And then I think. if she does still end up dying* then it’s probably gonna be directly NHS’s fault, in this context? Because “oh okay I was not expecting her to be chill with that, that’s an unpleasant surprise; well I still gotta ruin JGY’s marriage somehow SHRUG”. But on the other hand I really really don’t love all the women dying, so maybe instead he just reveals her complicity publicly and destroys her reputation and turns her into a pariah? :/ Which is still unpleasant but at least isn’t. death.

Anyway the reason why is like. Partially just aesthetic preferences!! I like “morally questionable power couple” much better than I like “evil dude and morally pure innocent victim wife”. (I in fact very much dislike the latter. Looking @ u, late Numenor.) And also partially - I very much like the additional resonance of “JGY underestimates he sweet and kind people around him and doesn’t notice that they can also have sneaky ruthless streaks” that this would add re: Huaisang? While also for that matter foreshadowing the Huaisang reveal?

And, yeah, a lot of other changes I would “like” to make, honestly fall more into the genre of “things I would like as fix-it fics” rather than changes I want to make to the base story, because so many of the pieces I’ve gone “augh but what if that were different!” are just. structurally important to MDZS’s tragic and other thematic elements. Messing with this aspect to Qin Su’s story doesn’t have to make the base plot non-tragic, but does improve on a few issues I have with e.g. morally polarised female characters who all die anyway.

2. Which character would you bring back to life?

!!???!!? when are we talking, here! in what fashion?

....okay, so for the sake of not making my head explode with potential options, I’m going to limit this to cases of characters who are 100% confirmed dead, being brought back either as a fierce corpse or via sacrifice-summon, generally within the main timeline of the story (i.e. not several decades post-canon).

And of that set under those conditions, I’m gonna pick Jiang Yanli. Look. I LOVE the possibilities of fierce corpse!Jiang Yanli. As a scenario it’s both incredibly fucked up but also the possibilities for really emotional reconciliation between all three Yunmeng siblings in the present timeline??? Logistically I think this would have to take place in a bookverse-style “LWJ carries WWX off to the burial mounds post-Nightless City battle” situation... so like, in a fit of practically qi-deviating rage-grief, WWX reanimates JYL’s corpse right as she dies, a la Wen Ning? and then part of what he’s doing, half out of his mind, during the missing time in the Burial Mounds is working on bringing her spiritual consciousness to put back in there.

........there’s definitely more logistics to be worked out, most notably “where is she during the intervening decade?” but. I love the idea of Jiang Cheng’s anger being not only “you killed my sister” but also “YOU TURNED MY SISTER INTO A FUCKING ZOMBIE”. I love the idea of, eventually, her being ACTUALLY PRESENT to express some of her own opinions and feelings on how WWX & JC fighting over her death (& fierce corpse status) is rly fucked up. make them deal with her as an actual person who’s inconvenient in her wants and needs and willingness to always extend a hand to others, not just a place to hang all their messy emotions on! give her eventually a chance to bond with Jin Ling, and the awkwardness and grief about how much of his life she missed, interspersed with “!!!!! I get to have this back! feelings!”

Because also just in general, I’d really love to have her around to interact with all the characters in their fucked-up “one timeskip later” iterations, and her perma-dying really just robs us of that chance and it’s very rude!

Bonus: holy fuck what would it be like for all her talents and skills and weaknesses to suddenly be completely reversed? Extremely physically strong and capable now! But more likely to scare people than charm them. Can she still, like, taste food properly? Who knows. But wouldn’t THAT be a juicy situation to explore for her! :O

#stripedroseandsketchpads #about me #ask meme responses #no good things for the poor sad cultivators #ask a James

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feliix · 5 years

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Staycation (jhs)

Summary: Your boyfriend spent weeks planning a romantic getaway to take with you while he was on break, but the weather had other plans. Leave it to Hoseok to plan an even more romantic evening to make it up to you.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: nudity, consumption of alcohol

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Attention Passengers. Flight 219 to Nassau, Bahamas has been canceled due to inclimate weather circumstances. Please contact the airline for re-bookings or refunds. We are sorry for the inconvenience.

Great. After waiting at the airport for almost 16 hours, two flight delays due to the heavy rain, and not getting a blink of sleep, your flight was canceled. Your boyfriend finally got a break from touring and had planned a lavish vacation for the two of you to spend some time together, but typhoon season seemed to ruin your plans.

The look on Hoseok’s face was pure and utter frustration. His lips tightened into a straight line and he let out a harsh sigh. You knew how much he was looking to finally getting away with you and how much effort he put into planning the perfect trip. He quickly pulled out his phone and started aggressively typing, you assumed he was sending the airline an email or something.

“So what now? There is no way we're getting out of here today and I think I might die if I have to spend another 20 minutes in this airport,” you felt disgusting from being there for so long. It seemed like you hadn’t showered in days and your ass was numb from the uncomfortable airport chairs.

He looked over at you with his brows furrowed, deep in thought. His expression quickly changed and he stood up, “Give me one minute I have to make a call, I’ll be right back.” You nodded at him and turned back to your magazine. You bought it one of the kiosks when you got here and probably read every article inside at least 3 times. It caught your eye when you were walking to your gate, on the cover it read “BTS ON HIATUS?” in large red letters and you just had to know what the tabloids were saying about your boyfriend and the other members this time. Hoseok was kind of embarrassed when the cashier was ringing you out, doing a double-take when she noticed the man standing in front of her was on the cover of the magazine you handed to her.

Before you could even flip to the next page Hoseok was back and rushing you to gather your belongings to leave. You had no idea where you were going and what his plans were, and as much as you begged him to tell you he was not budging.

After you retrieved your luggage, Hoseok led you outside to a black SUV that was waiting for you. How had he managed to get a car service here so quickly? It was one of the perks of dating an idol I guess.

The driver stepped out wearing a black suit and opened the back door for the two of you. Hoseok waited for you to get in while he leaned in closer to the driver whispering something. The driver gave him a quick nod and took your luggage to put in the trunk as Hoseok slipped into the seat next to you.

“So Hobi, where are we going?”

“I can’t tell you, it will ruin the surprise,” he gave you a small smirk, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hobi, you have to tell me. You can't just tell me to get in the car and not say where we're going that like, kidnapping.”

He chuckled and slipped his hand into yours, “I promise, you’ll like it.”

The car ride to your destination was mostly silent. It felt comfortable though, he kept his hand placed on your thigh gently caressing you throughout the entire ride. You were eager to find out where Hoseok was taking you and he seemed antsy to get to the destination. The both of you were lost in your own thoughts when you let out a hushed chuckle.

“What?” He gave you a confused look.

“If our flight got delayed one more time wouldn’t it be like,” you really couldn’t help yourself from bursting into a fit of laughter before finishing the sentence, “Airplane part 3?”

“That was the worst attempt at a joke I’ve ever heard,” He said, still laughing along with you anyway. “And that says a lot seeing that I live with Kim Seokjin.”

“Come on your laughing it couldn’t have been that bad,” you gently hit his shoulder.

“Oh no, it was pretty bad.” He shook his head at you, he was more amused that you found your own joke funny. Blame the sleep deprivation causing you borderline delirium.

As if it was on cue, the driver stopped the car and announced that you had arrived. You looked out the window and immediately recognized where you were.

“Your big surprise is your apartment building?” You met your boyfriend’s smug grin with a confused stare. This was definitely not what you were expecting. Whatever this surprise was, you had a feeling that Hoseok had something good in store.

The elevator ride up to Hoseok’s apartment seemed longer than usual. He was urgently typing something on his phone not saying much since he got out of the car and it was making you nervous. The elevator made a loud ‘ding’ and Hoseok finally looked up. He took your hand and smiled, leading you to his place.

“I’m sorry if it’s not perfect, you know I didn’t have a lot of time to plan this.” Hoseok was a jittering mess and he placed his key in the lock and swung open the door. He let you take a step into the apartment first and followed you closely behind.

The corridor leading to his living room was lined with rose petals and small tea lights. It was the corniest, most romantic thing you had ever seen. But it was perfect, and you hadn’t even seen the entire place yet. You turned your head around and gave him a quick smile before turning back and walking further into the penthouse.

The living room was stocked up with extra pillows and blankets and there was a campfire playing on the large flat-screen TV. Soothing music came from the surround sound speakers and the room looked cozier than you had ever seen it. Your eyes lit up as you did a 180 and saw all your favorite snacks placed on the kitchen counter. The dining table was set for two, covered with a white silk table cloth and sprinkled with more rose petals and small candles down the center.

“How did you manage to do this on such short notice?” You beamed, turning around to see his expression. He met you with a smile that was just as big as yours and his gaze was full of love.

“I figured since we weren’t able to get away and have a proper vacation, we could have a staycation instead,” he wrapped an arm around your waist and gave you a gentle kiss on your lips. You were in shock from how he was able to pull all of this off from the time you found out your flight was canceled until now. Not to mention how he came up with this idea all on his own. He truly was the perfect boyfriend.

“Why don’t you grab a snack, I’ll only be a minute.” Hoseok pressed his lips to your forehead before stepping away to his bedroom. You sat down at the kitchen island and admired all of your options. There was a wide array of candy, chips, and even a chocolate-covered basket of fruit. He really went all out for this ‘staycation’ of yours. You grabbed a piece of fruit and opened a bag of pretzels to munch on while you were waiting for your boyfriend to finish doing god knows what.

“Baby!” Hoseok called from somewhere in his bedroom you assumed, “Can you come here?”

You stood up wiping the small crumbs off of your lap and made your way over to search for him. You walked into the bedroom saw a giant heart, shaped from long stem roses resting over the plush white comforter of his king-size bed. There were more rose petals leading through the master suite into the bathroom. It was like a cliche romance movie, and you loved every second of it.

You continued walking through the master suite following the rose petals to finally find your boyfriend.

“Hi beautiful,” he flashed you a toothy smile, “I figured you’d want to wash up after sitting in the airport for so long.”

Hoseok sat in his giant bathtub filled to the brim with bubbles, the subtle smell of vanilla filling the room. You really did not know how it could get much better than this. After quickly stripping off your dirty clothes you climbed into the bathtub with your boyfriend. He poured you each a glass of champagne and held his up to make a toast.

“To our staycation, it’s no Caribbean getaway, but I’m always in paradise when I’m with you.” He clinked his glass with yours and you couldn’t help yourself from chuckling at his cheesy toast.

“Thank you for doing this Hobi, I really can’t believe you managed to pull all of this off in an hour. You’re amazing, I love you.” You leaned in to give him a quick peck but he caught the back of your neck and deepened the kiss. His lips were so soft and moved slowly against yours.

After pulling away he turned you around so your back was pressed to his chest, sitting between his legs. He rubbed the bubbles over your shoulders and placed soft kisses to your neck. This was truly better than any vacation you could have gone on.

The rose petals, the candles, the warm bubble bath, and the feeling of your boyfriend's smooth chest against your back set the tone for a lust-filled night. You could hardly wait for what was in store after your romantic bath. His gentle touches and tender lips were clouding your thoughts with desire. You felt his firm member pressed to your lower back and you expected that he was thinking the same.

“What do you say we dry off and take this somewhere else,” He whispered in your ear.

“Make sure to move the roses from the bed, I don’t want to get poked.”

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

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acrobaticcatfeline · 4 years

Text

Of Books, Brothers, and Broadway (Creativitwins College AU) Chapter Three!!!

Word Count: 6875

TW: Remus, Janus, cursing, ocean critters, think that’s it

Pairings: dukeceit, logince, I think mentioned moxiety, familial creativitwins, platonic everyone else with everyone else, a nice bit of parental Remus and Thomas.

Notes: It gets gay!!!!! Finally!!!! Also skirts!!!! We learn more about Thomas, who is baby TBH hes just like, Remus good boy and I agree. these two have a very close mentorship, Remus has been there for for several years and Thomas has pretty much adopted him. They have one of my favorite dynamics in this. A lot of angst comes shortly after this so enjoy the soft gays while you can.

Summary: Remus is gay and smitten. Roman is as well. The two battle to woo their brothers best friend and both succeed. Soft boys going on dates and being in love. Remus rants a bit.

By the time that they all finish dinner, Remus is more than a little excited to show Janus his lizard friends. Janus is so nice and cute and he has an interest in reptiles, and the book he wrote for the musical in progress, and god he's in love. Roman gives him permission to run off without him while he and Patton engage in ‘civilized’ conversation. So he shows Janus his room, and heck he's bringing a cute boy into his room god this is filthy, disgusting worse than the worst most cuddly pornos that he's ever sat through, this is intimate and Remus feels like his blood is going to boil. He smiles instead though, because Janus is squealing and bouncing and looking at all the little guys in the tanks and he so desperately looks like he wants to hold one but he bounces in place while sounding like a balloon with a leak.

“You want to hold one?”

“More than anything!”

Remus walks over to the tank and tries to pull out a small gecko, but his only snake slithers out and coils his arm before he could. He laughs at it, petting its little head softly and he's almost knocked unconscious by the pure joy on Janus’ face. His eyes are damn near sparkling, his bouncing has stilled as his jaw dropped.

“This little guy is a Kenyan sand boa, he's actually the only scaly friend I've ever gotten from a rescue, the rest of these guys are just local pals. His name is Amadeus. Wanna hold him?”

“Yessssssss!!!!”

Remus guided Amadeus to slither up Janus’ arm. He ended iup coiling around his neck loosely and Remus could see the effort Janus was exerting to not get too excited. He petted the snake gently, stars in his eyes as the snake seemed to lick him.

“I love him!”

“He seems to like you too”

“I’m sorry I’m being so childish heh, I just, I lose my composure with animals I guess. And theater. I suck at keeping up this uh, facade I guess I can call it”

“Why would you? You're cute like this”

Janus froze and Remus nearly backpedaled on his words before Janus broke out in a huge blush with a matching grin. He swept the bangs that were sticking out from his beanie to the side of his face as he looked back at Remus.

“Do you want to go get coffee at some point? I mean uh, we can, we can talk about the musical some more and uh, maybe I can convince you to strike up a deal of some sort?”

Remus blinked and smiled back at him. He pulled out his phone and looked at something before changing it and handing it over to jay.

“I've got a class tomorrow and then work, and I'm bringing home an octopus so I probably can't do coffee tomorrow, but how does dinner sound?”

Janus took the phone and saw a new contact page pulled up. He smiled as he entered the information and sent a standard text and handed it back.

“That sounds even better! I'm free after 4 tomorrow!”

“How does 7 sound? I'm technically back at 5:30 but I want to be here for a bit in case shit goes sideways with Cephy”

“Sounds like a date! Er, um, a plan! Sounds like... a plan..!”

“God you're gonna have to stop being so adorable before I turn myself in to the police preemptively. Anyways, Roman might be getting annoyed from having you stolen for so long, so hows about we put back Dee and pick up this convo later?”

“Great idea!”

By the time that they leave the room, Patton is ready to leave, and as jay was his ride, he had to leave as well. The four said their goodbyes, and when he thought Roman wasn't looking, Janus mimed a little ‘call me’ motion to Remus and he nearly melted as the two left. Remus flopped onto the couch, and subsequently Roman, when the door closed with a sigh.

“You've already stolen him haven't you?”

“Were going to dinner tomorrow”

“Of course you are. I'm going to have to help you get ready aren't i?”

“Yup. and I'll make dinner on Saturday and Sunday as a thank you”

“And as payment for skimping on your original day”

“Yeah sure”

Remus wasn’t panicking, of course not, he was totally chill. It's just that he was bringing home an octopus at the end of his shift and then he was going on a date with a cute boy and he just wasn't used to so much happening in one day. He refocused however. He was wearing his lab coat and was sitting next to the institute's recreation of the coastal ocean with pen and paper in hand. He was recording some behaviors in the dolphin they just got, and its differences in behavior compared to their other inhabitants. It was moving slower, and did not seem to like getting close to the walls. He had many questions as he continued to note its peculiarities. Thomas walked in and squatted next to him with a smile.

“You have your inquisitive look on, whats up kid?”

Remus continued to watch the dolphin intently.

“Why is she so scared of the walls?”

“Oh, she was abused by her human caretakers, she's afraid of us still. She also doesn't like our feeding rods, or when we get in to do maintenance. She's just people shy, which isn't too terrible for her or us for the time being. She hasn't lashed out, and it's only a mild inconvenience during feeding times. The longer she's here with the others, the easier it will be, animals are great at encouraging trust in others, its key for survival. But isn't she just so beautiful?”

“Definitely! Hey, weird question, do you ever get transfers from different parts of the world?”

“Sometimes, not often though, they only transfer out of country or state if its a true emergency for the most part, and we aren't really in the hierarchy for those things”

“Hmm. I really want to see an amazon river dolphin. They're so fricken cool!”

“Well, if that's something you want to see about, and you're serious about it, I have some connections with the dolphin research center as well as Clearwater, and I think they both have some that were serious rescue cases. I might be able to set you up for a summer stint if you want?”

“Oh no, no that's fine I just, it's just one of the things that made me want to pursue marine biology. It was an episode of Go Diego Go if you can believe that. They were just, so magical, and I learned more about the ocean and like, the ocean is filled with magic that we don't even know about, and it's just, I dunno. Its a bucket list thing I guess”

“Fair. mine was jellyfish and sea turtles. Finding Nemo”

Remus chuckled at the image of the doctor as a child getting starry eyed at Finding Nemo. He nodded distantly and Thomas fully sat, giving Remus a nudge on the arm.

“What's eating at you kid? You're acting distant today, is something up?”

Remus finally looks at Dr. Sanders at this, a little shocked and confused. He looks back at the water and curls his legs up close to him and lays his head on them.

“A lot is happening and I’m scared I’m going to mess something up”

“Talk to me Re”

“Well, ok so my brother is real into theater, always has been, and he asked me when we were younger to write a musical with him. And, and it's fun, don't get me wrong, but I hate hate hate showing people my writing. And now I'm showing him it regularly, on top of my writing assignments for my creative writing minor. And like, I don't know how to feel about it. But like, it's not just that. Like, I'm a full time worker here now, not an intern, but I'm not even working full time hours, and I feel like I have to prove to you and everyone else that it was worth it but I don’t have the time to put in more hours and it makes me feel so guilty because you're losing money by upping my pay and I don't know, I feel like I'm not doing enough but I know I can't do any more. And then! I'm getting Cephy and like, I know she's gonna be a lot of work, and I'm so ok with that but I’m worried I’m gonna mess up and hurt her or something! And I've got a date with a cute guy tonight and he's my brother's friend and he's so cute and we mesh so well, but I could ruin it, like I always ruin my relationships, and then what if he holds it against Roman? He’ll hate me forever and I don't know what I would do if I lost my brother too, I drive him crazy but I know he still loves me but it makes me want to die thinking about how conditional it could be, even though he's never shown me that that would ever happen it still eats at me and god I'm a mess. God I talked too much I’m sorry boss, I'll shut up now, you didn't need to hear all of that”

Thomas hides the shock and concern on his face, choosing to nod as he rubs a gentle circle in Remus’ back. The two were very very close, they were basically family at this point, Thomas having chosen to be his mentor the moment he met him. He waits a moment to choose his words before speaking.

“I can't pretend that I totally understand your problems, but I'm aware that that isn't what you're looking for. So lets start with something easy. Cephy will not get hurt with you. There is not a single doubt in my mind that you won't be able to, while you were the only applicant, if we didn't know you were responsible enough to care for her with complete certainty and confidence, we would have sent her home with one of our older scientists. This was a long discussion and I know that you will do exactly what you have to to keep her safe. Two, you were not promoted because we needed you to work more. As I've said since you've started here, your studies come first. You were promoted because you did amazing work with what little you are allowed to do as an intern, and we could see that you would do even better with less restrictions. This was meant to give you the ability to learn more and aid in your work ethic. We don't need you to spread yourself too thin so you can work more, we have enough people for you to only work part time”

Remus nodded, he was trying to believe him, he really was, but his head kept turning them around with what ifs. He stayed silent as Thomas paused again.

“Your writing is personal, creative work always is, it is a bearing of your soul and its reasonable to be hesitant in sharing it. Even more so when it's to an overly creative person. But if I know anything about your brother, it's that he is a kind and uncritical person. You don't seem to have any reason to distrust him with it. I know that sometimes your head makes you nervous and casts doubt over others intentions, but it isn't healthy for you to be unable to trust even someone as close as your brother. And, if you let him know your feelings on it all, I'm sure he would be willing to work on it with you. This ties in with the other bit. If you have no reason to believe that something like a break up would cause your brother to hate you, then it's likely not the case. Trust that he values his relationship with you enough to endure the small likelihood of a break up between you and his friend. His friend is a bit of a wild card to you right now but just, give it a shot. It might go better than you can imagine”

Remus felt like he was about to cry. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and took deep breaths. He pulled his hands away and looked at Thomas as he leaned slowly into a hug with the older man. Thomas smiled and wrapped his arms around the other and they sat there a moment in silence.

“Thank you Dr. Sanders”

“This is an emotional moment, call me Thomas”

“... thank you Thomas”

Remus had calmed down and felt far better after his conversation with Thomas, he was pretty zen as he drove home with Cephy on his passenger side. He parked outside he and Roman’s house and dialed Roman’s number. Roman picked up on the second ring.

“You back?”

“Yup. can you get the door for me, I don't want to set Ceph down on the ground”

“On it”

Remus got out of his car, opening the passenger door and lifting the rather small tank carefully in his arms. He felt bad for her getting stuck in such a small carrier tank. He got to the door and saw Roman in the doorway. Roman held out his arms.

“I imagine if I hold the tank I won't have to transfer her into the big one? So hand her over.

Remus chuckled and did so. He slid past then, opening the door to his room and lifting the cover on the big tank. He pulled on plastic gloves and did the same to the carrier. He laughed as Cephy’s arms immediately swung over the side of it. Roman nearly screamed and dropped the thing when one of her tentacles stuck onto him. Luckily he just hummed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. Remus carefully picked Ceph up, placing her oh so delicately on the little rock shelf near the top before he released her and she dove to the depths of it quickly, swimming around happily, likely glad to have room again. Roman rushed to the bathroom, shouting as he went.

“REMUS CAN I DUMP THIS???”

“GO AHEAD! IF SHE NEEDS TO TRANSFER AGAIN I’LL JUST PUT HER IN IT WHEN ITS EMPTY, SHE CAN SURVIVE OUT OF WATER FOR A BIT”

“WHY IS SHE SO FUCKING SLIMY???”

“SHE'S AN OCTOPUS WHAT DID YOU EXPECT???”

Remus pulled off the gloves and tossed them, placing the tank lid on again before going back to the car to get the rest of her supplies. When he finished unloading, Roman was back out of the bathroom with the tank now placed under the other one in the living room. His hair, which was about shoulder length, was tied up in a hair tie, his bangs pinned up and he was wearing a black crop top with golden print of a crown and shorts. He had a makeup bag in one hand and a hair brush in the other. He had the most sinister smirk on his face.

“K, go take a shower and change into shitty clothes so we can try some faces. Go on! Its 5:45 and I need an hour to get you in order”

Remus opened his mouth and shut it, knowing that Roman was right. He sulked to his room, grabbing some pjs and heading to the bathroom.

“Roman I’m going to look like a clown with all this makeup, why are we even doing this?”

“Because you want to look nice, and you'll look better if you do a little bit of makeup to accentuate your features. And also because you suck at shaving so I'm hiding the welts you gave yourself. He won't want to kiss you if you look like you've been eating out a beehive. Now sit still! We still have to choose your outfit and deal with your hair!”

Remus did as told, pouting as he did so. Roman finally, finally put down the makeup brush. He pulled up a mirror and Remus gasped at his reflection. His face looked clear and smooth, and his cheeks had color. But his eyes were stunning. They were black on the lid, but it faded into a sparkly green shade and gosh Remus loved it.

“I’ll put some lipstick on you when you're done changing. Don’t want to accidentally stain anything”

“Ro I love it!!!!”

“Good. ok clothes next. Where are you guys going?”

Remus blinked and felt himself flush and Roman rolled his eyes. He walked into Remus’ closet with a sigh.

“Typical. Ugh, men. Jay likes anything, he's pretty basic on that, I'd say go to olive garden. Mid Range price but nice aesthetic. Plus he eats bread sticks like an actual snake. He’ll love it. Maybe plan your next date a little more though”

Remus nodded, eternally grateful for the suggestion. He followed Roman as he flipped through his clothes. Roman sighed again.

“You're so lucky I saw his outfit and know it isn't too regal, otherwise I would make you push it to later and buy you new clothes. Here, how about this?”

He pulled out his skull shirt, some ripped jeans, his leather jacket, and his fingerless gloves. Remus smiled.

“He's not against punk?”

“Of fucking course not, did you not see his outfit yesterday? He's a baby pastel punk. He thought you looked good yesterday, he’ll think you’re the sexiest mother fucker tonight if I do this right so get changed”

Remus did so, not caring enough to be modest as he changed in front of his brother. They'd seen each other in less, it didn't matter. He grabbed some socks as well for the outfit, pulling them up before tugging on his jeans. He carefully pulled his shirt over his head, keeping it from hitting his face. He was swinging his arms through his jacket when Roman grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the proper part of his room. He sat down and Roman ruffled his hair before grabbing his hairbrush.

“Ok so we’re making this look decent. Ok so you’ve got the fucking fade done, so how about the nice swoop?”

“I have no idea what language you're speaking”

“Okay it was a rhetorical question anyways. Lemme grab my gel”

Roman poured a decent heap of gel into his hands, rubbing them together before raking them through Remus’ hair. He then took his comb and moved his hair all over to the right. He pulled a few strands free to fall in his face then pulled away and smiled as he wiped the excess gel off with some wipes. He gestured to the mirror next to Remus and once he looked at it, Remus was once again astounded.

“Roman what the fuck kind of sorcery?”

“I'm a theatre major, I dabble in makeup and hair”

“Dabble???”

“Oh honey you should see Patton at work”

“Roman, grab my docs”

“Which ones?”

Remus knew that while a valid question, it was also meant to tease and he narrowed his eyes at him. He pointed at the ones still on his shelf that had skulls. He rarely wore them, and was ecstatic at having the chance to. Roman brought them to him and he slipped them on with practiced ease.

“I think you owe me for this”

“If I give you Logan's number will we be even?”

Roman sputtered and blushed but nodded shyly. Remus grinned. He texted Logan to get his ok, which he got instantly, then sent the number to Roman.

“There you go! Now, I have a date to get to!”

“You have his address?”

“Of course not”

“You fucking spoon. I’ll text it to you”

“At least I’m not gaysexual”

“What the absolute fuck did you just say?”

“Spoonsexual?”

“Leave before I break your fucking neck”

“Fair, have a nice day”

Remus pulled up to Janus’ dorm room expecting many things. None of which he got. Janus was dressed in a black crop top with a turtleneck, a high waisted pastel yellow skirt that reached his mid thighs, and soft yellow thigh high socks. He was wearing bright yellow converse and had a golden flower headband. Remus thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. When Janus gets in his car he finally tears his eyes away as he goes to start driving again.

“You look nice Jan”

“As do you”

Remus avoids speaking, hoping that Janus will start talking and getting more anxious as he doesn't. Janus is playing with his skirt wait, his? Is his still a thing?

“Might I ask if you're still using he him pronouns?”

Janus looks up suddenly and smiles as a blush forms on their? Face.

“Oh, yeah, he/him all around, they them is good as well, but yeah”

“Ok cool”

“...I’m sorry I’m being so awkward, I'm a little on edge”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not in the slightest actually. Um, where are we going?”

“My two brain cells fucked off and didn't think of that until about an hour ago, but Roman told me you liked olive garden so we’re going to olive garden”

Janus giggled and god if Remus wasn’t already gay, he wouldve been the ambassador of queerland to hear that again. He smiled and sent him a quick look, feeling his cheeks darken as he saw Janus looking at him.

“That sounds great! So um, how's the musical going?”

“Hm? Oh, it's going well. Uh, sort of. I've gotten a bit stuck on the script, and Roman’s hit a roadblock in the songs. I'm a little uh, let's say bad, at writing things like this. It's uh, it's far more tame than my usual stuff, but Roman isn't one for my more graphic shit, you know how it is. He's all unicorns and rainbows and im blood and porn, so writing something he would like is tricky to say the least. It's far easier to just translate all my night terrors and intrusive thoughts to paper than to actually be creative”

“Well, your night terrors and intrusive thoughts may be you know, normal or whatever to you, but I'm sure your writings about them are just as good! Creativity takes many forms and seeks different inspiration! I would love to see more of your writing, if it's ok with you?”

“Oh, no they're, they're shitty, you don't want to see them. They're about eldritch monsters and serial killers and they're really bad, I don't want to subject you to that”

“Nonsense! Like I said, I'm sure they’re amazing! But if you're uncomfortable showing me, then that's ok too”

Remus shuts up, avoiding the end of this conversation. Except he digs absently in the back seat and pulls out a notebook, handing it to Janus.

“It's filled with them. It's my last notebook, I suggest you just borrow it and not try and read them over dinner. Some of them make me a little sick to read. But uh, yeah. Go ahead”

Janus looks at it, the little doodles that are sprawled over the cover, and then looks at Remus with his eyes filled with stars. And Remus almost crashes, he’ll admit it, but that is a look that no one has ever given him before and he might actually die this time. They're at olive garden though, so he gets out and rushes to the other side to open the door for Janus who giggles again.

“So where'd you come up with the idea for the musical?”

Remus looked up from his food at Janus. Janus had his hands pressed together and he looked insatiable for answers. He smiled, licking his lips before explaining.

“When me and Roman were kids one of our favorite movies was the nutcracker. Around the same time that he said he wanted to write a musical, our uncle took us to the ballet of the Nutcracker live, it was our Christmas present from him. It was, well it was magical. So that was part of it. But like, as a kid I always loved reading. I found that I had loved some characters more than I had loved anyone outside my family. I had crushes throughout my life, but none of them really worked out, so I ran back to stories, it gave me something permanent and I dunno, I had a recurring dream where I would wake up and the hero or villain of my favorite books would be there and would love me. It's uh, it's a bit pathetic now that I say it out loud”

“No! Its, cute”

Janus was leaning on his hand as he stared and listened to Remus, moving to be more attentive in his posture, both arms on the table, with an insistent look on his face at Remus’ last words.

“It's not pathetic to want to be loved! It's hard to feel like you aren’t. I used theater as my escape from my shitty situation, and now I'm in college spending more money than I will ever use on anything else to pursue my escape as my reality. Sometimes it seems silly, but it makes me happy, so it's not useless. I mean, what other group would look at some guy with scars enough to play Deadpool who wears frilly skirts for fun and accept him? Definitely not any group from my home”

Remus frowns a bit.

“Anyone with half a brain”

Janus smiles at him.

Remus was dropping Janus off. He did not want to be dropping him off, he wanted to be taking him home and talking mindlessly for hours about nothing and everything, but Janus had to go, he had a shift in the morning. And Remus did as well, but all he could think of was how wonderful the night had been, and he didn't want it to end. They were standing outside, had been for a while, both of them trying to drag this out. Janus shivered and Remus immediately toar off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. Janus was blushing again.

“You don't have to do that, I'm right outside my door!”

“Yeah, but this way I have an excuse to see you again”

Janus smiled and shuffled slightly. He mumbled something incoherent and Remus’ eyebrow rose.

“What was that?”

“I would really like to kiss you, if that's alright?”

Remus felt his skin burning at the question. He nodded, leaning down to kiss him. It wasn't fireworks. It was a chocolate fountain, soft and sweet and smooth, and they were pulling away and Janus looked completely blissed out. Remus felt the same way as he leaned back against the car again. He smirked and gestured to the dorm.

“You should probably head in, it's getting late”

“Yeah. yeah I should. I don't want to but I should. Um, I'll see you again?”

“That jacket is too expensive to leave with someone I don't plan on seeing again”

Janus smiled and nodded. He finally turned to go inside, and Remus waited until the door shut behind him to get back in his car and drive home. He starts the ignition as his phone rings.

“Roman holy shit Roman I’m in love help”

“Of course you are”

“Roman he wanted to read my stories”

“Well yeah, he's already shown interest in your writing-”

“No but the dark shit Roman, the nightmare fuel the terrors and murderers and the dark gritty shit I never show anyone”

“Yeah, he's really into that kinda thing. He's a fan of that genre”

“But he's, he's so soft!”

“Yeah, you only just got to his second layer of that, he's got a bunch of soft covering up the gritty fucked up interior. His words not mine. He's got some shit buried, Patton knows a bit more than me, but he really tries to keep that hidden. I knew you two would hit it off, you're very similar”

“I want to know it all Ro. I want to know everything about him, I want to know what he's afraid of and what his parents told him before bed and what dreams he has and what makes him tick and god I want to kiss him forever and never stop”

“That is the sappiest thing you've ever said. Want some coffee?”

“It's almost midnight”

“Did I stutter?”

Roman was distracted. He was at work, so he really shouldn't be, he didn't really have the time, but he and Logan had been texting since Remus sent him his number, and Roman had caught feelings hard. He was super hot honestly, which was unfair Roman thought, he's half his size he shouldn't be allowed to be so attractive. But they had been sending selfies back and forth, mostly because they were both too occupied with their hands and Roman fucking adored it. There was one of Logan in a tie that was slightly loosened and he was giving the camera some sort of smoulder. Roman had decided after that to explain that he was working and turn off his phone. He went to the back of the shop to grab some replacement baked goods to bring up front and he thanks his years in dance that he didn't fall when he saw Logan at the counter. He was still in his polo and tie, but the tie had been tightened and he looks significantly more innocent than he did in the photo. Roman set down the boxes and moved to greet him.

“Howdy hot stuff, haven't seen you around here, what are you craving?”

Logan smirked back. Suddenly Roman was grateful the shop was in a lull, and he's sure Logan was too as he looked him up and down.

“Well, if we’re honest I'm in the mood for a tall cup of sexy, but it doesn't seem like you're on the menu, so I'll go with a salted caramel mocha. I think its a close second in sweetness”

Roman is completely red, very unprepared for any of what was said. Logan's smirk breaks into a smile and he laughs. And Roman quickly gets to preparing his drink before he combusts. He mutters the price quietly as he makes it.

“Aren't you supposed to have me pay first? Or am I being treated by a knight in shining armor?”

“You're going to give me a heart attack, I hope you know”

“You can't expect to tease me and get away without consequence can you? You'd have to take me to dinner first to get away with that”

“I did not tease you, if anything, you were teasing me, you foul beast!”

“Oh so me sending a picture of me in full clothes is teasing, but you in your gym outfit is just the norm?”

“Of course!”

“Mhmm. keep telling yourself that hot stuff. I suppose if I did the same, you would find no problem then?”

“Wha, you go to the gym?”

“Yes, it is healthy and I attempt to keep a healthy lifestyle. In a word… duh”

Roman felt warm all over again, far more attracted to the idea than he was consciously ok with. The two had been flirting incessantly, and Roman may have teased the poor nerd a bit, but he still didn't deserve this!

“So then if the price of free teasing is dinner, then how about dinner tonight?”

“Hmm, irresponsible to wait until the day of to ask someone to dinner, but I am free tonight, so consider yourself lucky. 7 work?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be waiting for your fine ass at 7”

“Oh dear, how have you ever wooed a woman? How dare you objectify me like I'm a hunk of meat?”

“You're definitely a hunk, that's for sure. A true himbo”

“Falsehood, I have a functioning brain, you are the himbo between the two of us”

Logan grinned at him as he finished paying and took his drink. He waved as he walked away.

“Seeya tonight sweetcheeks!”

Roman didn't know what he signed up for but he was so in.

“Yeah so you don't have to worry about dinner tonight, I've managed to seduce Logan into dinner with me”

“Is that how it happened? Logan told a very different story”

“Ok no, but don't let the truth get in the way of a good story!”

“Yeah sure whatever, I guess that means I'm getting the house to myself?”

“Yup! If jay comes over please try to remember our agreement and dont fuck in the common areas?”

“What? One, of course not, I’m not a heathen, and two, we’ve been on one date, I’m a gentleman, no sex until at least the third date!”

“Mhmm. likely story”

“Oh, and one last request, if shit happens with you two, don't tell me anything you wouldn't say in a pg13 movie. If it's worse I don't want to know, I still have to go to class with him on Monday”

“Deal”

“What's cooking good looking?”

Logan was stepping in the car and rolled his eyes at the line.

“No idea, you're the one in charge of food if I can recall”

Roman thinks it's very rude how easily the nerd can manage to take his breath away. He pouts a little.

“Why were you so shy when I first met you, cuz you obviously aren't”

“Nerves. I wasn't expecting to meet someone attractive when dropping off Remus’ belongings and I startle easily”

“Attractive huh?”

“Don't get too excited, if there's nothing else other than good looks I don't imagine this will go anywhere”

“Fair, I could say the same to you”

Logan sent him a sideways glance. He was also ungodly attractive. He was wearing a black v neck shirt, black jeans, and a blazer and Roman didn't think anyone could pull off a nerd look and be hot but counter evidence was sitting in his passenger seat. Roman was wearing white jeans, a simple gryffindor t-shirt, and his letterman jacket from his high school that was a nice red and gold. He also had simple makeup done, as well as his hair being tied back, leaving his bangs to frame his face purposefully. He was really hoping this went somewhere.

“So, where are we going, might I ask?”

“Depends, do you like Japanese cuisine?”

“Yes, I'm a fan of it, why?”

“Well it was between cheesecake factory and Benihana, and we have now decided”

“Benihana? Roman, that's really expensive, we don't have to go there, I know I joked about you buying the ability to tease, but you don't have to pour a fortune into a first date!”

“Nonsense! As you said, I teased you unfairly, consider it an apology and a bribe”

“...I can already tell that you're even more stubborn than your brother”

“We came by it honestly!”

“So you're a theater major right? So you do the big three, acting, singing, and dancing? I imagine you aren't a fan of writing considering Remus is writing for your musical, but do you do any traditional arts?”

Roman was mid bite of sushi when the question came. He set down his chopsticks and grabbed his napkin to cover his mouth as he finished chewing. He finally set it down and smiled.

“I am and I do, but I do enjoy writing, but it's garbage compared to what Remus writes. As much as I'm not a fan of his subject matters, his writing is undeniably amazing. My writing is very ah, fluffy. Not much sustenance. And like, fanfiction, but that isn't like, real writing-”

“Fanfiction is real writing. Every idea is based and influenced by countless things, sometimes without realizing it. Besides, it takes a lot of the most menial and boring part of the storytelling process out. Exposition is just as difficult to write as it is to read, in fanfictions you get to start right where the interesting part starts, no boring history that means nothing to the plot other than for throwaway lines. Sorry for interrupting I just have uh, I have strong opinions on the subject. Continue, please”

Roman might’ve gone red again but he was shocked at Logan's response. It felt… nice to have the validation in the writing he enjoys. He did however, go back to the original question.

“Um, and uh, yeah I do traditional art, I don't really get? Digital art? It's just confusing to me so I just do the bare sketchbook. I think I have some pictures of them on my phone if you'd like to see them?”

“I'm actually quite intrigued. May i?”

Roman grabbed his phone and pulled up his gallery, choosing his art folder and handed Logan the phone. He went back to eating as Logan scrolled through.

“You and Remus have such similar styles in art, I'm surprised. Definitely different tastes in what you draw, but the style itself is almost indistinguishable. Did you learn together?”

“Hmm? I mean, yeah sort of. We both drew a lot when we were little, but other than the little doodles in his musical notebook I haven't seen any of his art in years”

“Hmm. I suppose that makes sense, he's very secretive and protective of his creative works. I wasn’t ever allowed to see his writing until we were paired for a writing project. Creativity is incredibly personal, and while many seek validation and approval, he seems to fit the other type that fears rejection. I can assure you, his art looks a lot like yours but far more ah, violent. And usually a fair amount of tentacles”

Roman smiled softly, he was happy to know that Remus hadn’t stopped drawing. Logan was still swiping through, eating rather absentmindedly. Suddenly Logan sat up and Roman swore that his eyes glittered.

“Is this the Marquis de Carabas???”

Roman looked at the phone and indeed it was an image of his version of the character. He nodded and smiled as Logan smiled back.

“Yeah, I was messing with plague doctor masks, and I had just finished the book. He was always very birdlike to me, so I thought it fit”

“Roman this is incredible! His coat is perfect and, and his hat? Goodness, this is so pretty!!!”

“Meh, it's not my best. I drew Door as well, I think she's a better piece personally”

“I didn't take you as someone who would like Gaiman”

“Remus loves him and he's another talented author. Besides, Terry Pratchet was one of my favorite authors and I fucking love Good Omens. Oh and I grew up on Doctor Who so that also helped”

“You like Doctor Who?”

“Hell yeah! It's probably in my top favorite TV shows I've ever watched”

Roman was walking Logan to his door and they were still chatting when they reached it.

“This was nice Roman. Thanks for taking me out”

“My pleasure. I got to spend a nice night with a radiant man”

He smirked and was ready to watch Logan step inside when Logan grabbed his jacket and yanked him down into a kiss. He stood there with his arms awkwardly floating for a moment before he wrapped them around Logan's waist. It was quick, Logan pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked first I-”

Roman leaned back in, crashing his lips against Logan’s,and it felt like a forest fire. Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck and smiled into it. It was passionate and wild and warm and Roman felt like every inch of his skin was burning and he never wanted to let go. They did though, and Roman stared a moment at Logan's face, admiring the blush that colored it. He knew he wasn't any better. They stayed there until Logan finally spoke.

“Do you um, do you want to come inside?”

Roman released him, and had to hold back a chuckle at the sad whine that left Logan when he did so. He leaned back in, placing a small kiss on his nose before stepping back.

“Sorry doll, not on the first date. ‘Sides, I have work in the morning. Maybe next time though. Text me”

Logan nodded and watched longingly as Roman got in his car and drove away. He sighed softly before stepping inside of his home, reminding himself to get another date with Roman, and soon.

Roman was about to shout about how his date went when he walked in, but he saw the lights in the house were all off. He walked to the living room and cooed at the scene he was greeted by. Remus was sprawled over the couch, one leg on the floor and one arm over the back of the couch, and Janus laying on top of him, curled up small with his head over Remus’ chest and Remus’ other arm wrapped protectively around him. The two were both passed out and Roman chuckled. He went to his room and came back with a blanket to cover them with before going to his room to sleep as well.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @booklover223

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 4 years

Note

For that ask meme (If you don't want to answer them all feel free to pick and choose): 3, 6, 7, 8, 12, 14, 21, 22, 24, 26, 30, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 42, 43, 45, 47, 50, 51, 54.

3. Favourite thing to write? Well, I’m not sure. Mostly I just like found family type stories, or elaborate nonsense. (As you may have noticed, all my stories are nonsensical bs lmaooo).

6. Where do you usually find inspiration? My bed, or the shower, inconvenient times. Sometimes it will be music, or a weird what-if. But you can blame the lovely @grezzirossi for a lot of my fics, as they tend to come out of weird conversations and headcanon building we do in chat. 7. Do you listen to music to help you write? Sometimes. I mean, sometimes you need a certain kind of music to help you think. Sometimes you need the background noise of youtube etc.

8. What’s the biggest “challenge” for you as a writer? ...writing.

12. What’s your favorite thing that you ever wrote? I’m not sure, I really like a few of mine. Mostly because there was one killer pun or joke in there the whole fic was based around. Maybe ‘Spy Is My...’ it’s not even good, but I remember how i felt when the headcanon came to life.

14. What’s your favorite character/person to write for? I love Scout from Team Fortress 2, but all the mercs really. They’re all unique and ridiculous and an excellent mass murdering found family.

Lot of others tho. I have a few half-written fics i will one day finish, and your minds... they will be, disappointed.

Would like to do some Witcher or Overwatch fics eventually. Getting to it, promise.

21. What’s your favorite AU trope?

+Nobody Died/Everybody Lived +Superpowers +Some sort of soulmate au? Or even Hanahaki? +Found Family/Fight to Protect FAmilies +When someone assumes no one is coming... and then everyone comes to save them. 10/10 yes. Thanks. Probably others, can’t recall anything else off the top of my head...?

22. A fanfiction cliché you can’t help but love? Oh no... I cannot love them both! Surprise motherfucker! You can!

24. Have you ever had an idea for story and forgot about it? ...yes. The ghosts of half-recalled fanfics past haunt me in the eerie hours of dawn...

26. How did you find out you like to write?

Not sure if it counts but like, in grade 2 I wrote a harry potter fanfic with no idea of what fanfic was. Just a creative writing/short story thing, which apparently meant ‘me and best friend at time meet harry potter and fight vampires, and save people from vampires then go to hogwarts’. Also wrote a version of ‘the chicken who made bread’ that was like, ‘the pale blue unicorn made barley sugars’ in the same grade.

But proper fanfic? I can’t recall the exact moment... but it also involved harry potter and fanfiction.net. And I would rather die than relieve that terrible mess. Gods I thought I was SO GOOD and now it’s so YIKES. Lmao.

30. What would you say it’s the most “famous” fic you��ve ever written? Not sure... I don’t think any are really that well known?

34. What’s your favorite font to use when writing? The default. It legit never occurred to me to change it.

35. Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? I tend to aim for shorter and always get longer. I aim for longer, and never finish them because I am a disaster of a human being.

36. How do you keep yourself inspired?

a) write it in one sitting; b) re-read it a million times and occasionally type an extra word; c) have a lovely friend telling you that You Can Do It! or d) despair at being a lazy bitch with no time... ugh

37. Have you ever written something you didn’t like but posted anyways? Yeah, most of it lmaoooo. I never feel its good enough to post? It’s silly, but like, that’s the Mood I have.

38. What is your “strong suit” as a writer? Being able to just like, bullshit my way through anything I guess.

39. What’s your favorite trope? Found family / Supernatural as Normal Everyday Shit (Like oh god dammnit i phased into the 6th dimension again and i’m gonna be late for work’) / HORROR

42. What is your weakness as a writer?

Not good at describing certain things, like kissing or postures or whatever. Feels like I’m often repetitive. I dunno, it just feels repetitive, I guess? Often., even. Also lack of time and motivation to write, after work, where constant typing is a Thing.

43. Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you wrote? Yes. Also occasionally blindside myself with dumb jokes i’ve hidden in the fics. AS if my brain erased their existence after I typed them out, so it’s Always Fucking Funny when I read them.

45. One thing you love about fanfiction.

That it can hold shitty canon at knifepoint and demand a better ending. That there is no real limit to the whole thing... you want to rewrite Lord of hte Rings in space? Fucking GO FOR IT.

47. What’s your favorite thing about writing? It feels like painting with words? Just getting lost in the story in your head, realising character A was holding a sandwich three paragraphs ago and now its a gun so you have to swear and find a part to slide in where they switched it, etc. lmao.

50. One thing you don’t like about fanfiction.

People who are like Super Into inc*st, p*doph*lia and r*pe fics, but get defensive when people are like The fUck? Or people who ship REal Life Actual People, and get weird, or even frightening about the whole “Well these two actual human beings MUST be together so I will send death threats to their real life partners” thing.

Also what the FUCK was with the wattpad fic phase where everyone’s mothers were selling them to 1Direction. Lmaoooo.

51. Least favorite trope? Violently out of character fics. Where it’s straight up, ‘author has removed their personalities and added in generic uke/seme personalities from like 2009 or some shit’. And everyone’s acting super weird. (M/m and f/f/ and m/f fics alike).

Very frustrating. Just... learn about the character, use it, it makes things way more fun to write and read.

Also A/B/O. It’s weird, lads. I love Teen Wolf but some of you got WEIRD Weird.

54. Do you usually like what you write?

I get stressed that it’s never good enough. Sometimes, yeah; mostly nah.

#Anonymous

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bitchsexuality · 5 years

Text

@animaliae

ok first off i’m sorry i took so long to reply!! i’ve been busy in the most tedious way possible so my brain’s not exactly my best friend right now. second off: THANK U SO MUCH these were so fun to answer!!

i’m putting all of these in the same post because i started talking and i could not Shut The Up, and i think one atrociously long post is better than four long posts when it comes to like, scrollability. scrollpastability? scroll-Something. and putting it under a readmore too for the same reasons

SO, from top to bottom:

weirdest character idea for D-N-D:

it’s an idea i’ve already had because i can’t come up with anything right now dksjfgbd, but

once i made a druid for a D//N/D-based CRPG who only cast spells when they gave him something edible (in theory ofc, the game didn’t let me eat my summoned bears... thankfully...), so i ended up with nothing but goodberries and several animal summoning spells. then i proceeded to cheat my way through the game, which defeated the point sdfgsd, but it was still fun concept-wise

also made me spend too much time wondering if the entangle spell’s vines could be eaten. i mean you can’t eat the WHOLE thing but maybe you could like, munch on it a little, or try to slurp it up like a noodle. it wouldn’t be tasty, it wouldn’t be easy, and it most definitely would not be healthy, but it’s like. the principle of the thing

if ur asking yourself WHY i did that… well there aren’t THAT many D/ND-based CRPGS out there and i’d already played that one —several times, in fact— so i wanted to try something different :0

i mean it’s not THAT weird tbh, but he’s the only OC i can think of right now that soooooort of fits? and my brain is like, a tundra of creativity at the moment. a deep tar pool that absorbs all inspiration and drags it, kicking and screaming, to its viscous doom. well you get the idea. or i hope you do because i sure fucking don’t

ideal ending for one of my characters:

hmmmm for like, original fiction characters i more or less have all their endings planned out? most of them ARE ideal because i am fully in control of their destinies and i am also a softhearted lidle bich who prefers stories with relatively uplifting/happy endings. or tbh even the ones that aren’t technically happy are still ideal in terms of character arcs, development, etc

(i might be giving myself way too much credit there though skdjgbdksjfg)

and —though this is super unlikely and mostly just me deceiving myself at this point— i do want to publish what i’m working on rn, so talking about endings would be a spoiler for something that does not exist and probably never will outside of my idiot fool head. so i’m gonna talk about an old OC that i’m not doing anything with anymore!

her name was elina and her entire deal was that she came from a family of very powerful witches who owned a, uh, i guess you could call it an archive? or a library?? idk, it was just an ABSURDLY large collection of magic-related books, and it pretty much contained all known arcane knowledge (though come think of it, “all known arcane knowledge” can’t have been THAT much because the archive was just one room. a huge fucking monster of a room yeah but like. still just One)

so anyway, her family members were very dutiful + responsible when it came to the archivelibraryroom thing, but they were also too traditional for her tastes? like they didn’t bother practicing/using magic, or experimenting, or looking for anything outside of books; they only cared about written things, and even then they did nothing but get the Very Important Books, put them in the archivelibraryroom and forget about them completely

then elina ran into a group of other magic-users who were investigating a weird phenomenon in her hometown, and she asked her family about it, but they essentially were like “oh if it doesn’t affect the books we don’t care lol anyway it’s your turn to clean the archivelibrary now”

but yeah i’m sure y’all can tell where this is going kjdfgbd elina was the typical YA protag in that she was super rebellious, so she turned her back on her family and left her house to help the group of inconveniently yet stereotypically teenage magic-users, made friends, learned about magic, blah blah blah

the issue is that i never gave that story an ending? like the closest thing to it was a vague “uhhhh elina goes back home to find the archivelibrary is burning down and pulls some kind of mysterious water magic out of her ass to save it; then her family apologizes, they begin to respect her and she stays with them to keep caring for the archivelibrary, But With A Progressive Twist”

the issue was that after writing around two chapters i realized i didn’t actually Have a plot, so i didn’t know what story that ending would be... ending... and since i couldn’t think of anything + i wasn’t THAT attached to the characters anyway i just gave up on it

but now that i’m thinking of it again, just for the sake of ending the Story That Never Was, i feel like making her earn the respect of her family just because she saved the books + proved she actually cares about that too is, idk, shallow? out of character?

because she believed that her family’s fixation on history + Neatly Documented stuff was holding them back and making things worse for everyone. she left her home behind because her ideals re.: magic —that it should grow and change to fit the context + people’s needs, and not the other way around— were so strong

OOF THIS IS GETTING SO FUCKING LONG KSDJGB i’m just gonna stop here and say: elina’s new ideal ending is pretty much that while she ends up in friendly terms with her family —because, in spite of their fundamental disagreements, they never hurt her— she doesn’t go back home and chooses to travel around the world instead, helping people in whichever way possible and freely sharing her knowledge with anyone who’s willing to listen and, at the same time, learning from them

i mean, the concept’s not too original ksjdbg just something i thought of super quick, and that’s just a half-assed attempt at closure for an OC i made when i was like… 9

headcanons about my favs:

ok this one’s hard because i’m not into any like… fandom things right now? i haven’t found anything that rly interests me or that i could see myself being passionate about, which sucks because i do kinda miss being into stuff with Established Content :(

so i’ve been focusing on my OCs + original stories and such. and i’m not sure if OC headcanons count as headcanons because i control canon so technically everything i come up with IS canon. then again it’s headcanon too because it’s a canon from my head because that’s where ideas come from. okay wait i’m not making any cents here x

but uhh knowing me i might think of something right after publishing this, so if that happens i’ll come back and edit this post :0

also just saying but if any of y’all know of something i could get into then lmk, i’m open to suggestions! preferably free stuff though... i’m beset by capitalisms

a favorite scene that i loved:

i can’t remember any in particular right now, either from my #content or somebody else’s SDFKJGBDF god my mind 😔 well i mean i’m gonna be a little bit full of meself and say that i’ve written things that i really like, especially imagery-wise, but i Also want to publish those someday… like i’ve also written original/OC-related stuff that i don’t plan on publishing, but i’m not THAT proud of them tbh :/

i was —emphasis on was— trying to write a short story about jasna (one of my D-N/D OCs, a cleric of oghma) that never really went anywhere, but i did post a snippet on my OC blog, and that’s what i hate the least out of all my recent attempts at writing? so i’m just gonna put it here again ig sdfgs (not actually linking to the OC blog post because it’s kind of a mess rn, i need to fix the theme + clean it up a bit)

if you got this far and read all of this nonsensical verbal monster: i love u with all my heart and i would legitimately die for u.

#otherworldly whispers #hope it's OK that i'm mentioning u btw!!!#just so u know i wasn't like. ignoring you or anything dsfkgsd #also if i'd answered the question directly it'd have shown up in ur activity feed anyway right? so technically it's the same #... i think...#long post #im talking a LONG ass fucking post that's not a joke or an exaggeration this bitch is LONG #text heavy #food ment - . / (Kind of? not really????)#family ment - . /#fire ment - . /#again kind of not really #ask me to tag - . /#bc im not sure how else to tag this skjdfb

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chasingthecosmos · 4 years

Text

Two Words to Keep

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: T Pairing: The Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Chapters: 8/14 Read on AO3 here.

“This new body was all about words, but in that moment, the Doctor found himself struggling to find the right ones to say. He knew already that there were really only five that he absolutely needed to tell her - five words that would change their lives forever.”

A (sort of) season re-write centering around the Doctor’s touch telepathy and the many inconvenient ways that it gets between him and his companion, Rose Tyler. This work is based around Season 2 and the Tenth Doctor. It’s a sequel to “A Hand to Hold”, but can also be read as a stand-alone. This is NOT going to be a Doomsday fix-it fic, but there will be a separate Journey’s End fix-it sometime in the future.

Chapter Eight: The Girl in the Fireplace (Part Two)

The Doctor did eventually make it back to Rose - against all odds and reason, just as he always did. However, he still had to send her away as soon as they had completed their warm reunion and returned to the TARDIS without Madame de Pompadour. He didn't want to have to send Rose off with Mickey (in fact, he never wanted to let her out of his sight or reach ever again), but he Doctor knew that he needed to read Reinette's letter in private.

And he was glad that he did, because the woman's relentless hope in him shattered his hearts and made him want to simultaneously throw the letter into the heart of a black hole where it would never be able to see the light of day again, and also carve the words into his soul so that he would never be able to forget what a horrible, disgusting disappointment he was to everyone who was ever foolish enough to rely on him.

He wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his bed (something that he hadn't done in far too long) and spend a few hours sulking in his own self-hatred, but his meddling time ship had better ideas, and he found himself instead stumbling into the library, where Rose was seated on the couch as though she had been waiting for him.

She still startled when he entered, though - her eyes going wide as she took in his broken, desperate expression. "Doctor ...?" she asked slowly.

He didn't make any sort of reply - he didn't have any words that weren't dripping in six layers of regret and self-loathing and he wasn't about to add all of that to the weight that he had already put on Rose's shoulders.

Instead, he simply came around the edge of the couch that she was occupying and sat down heavily next to her. The Doctor stared hard at his shoes, refusing to meet Rose's eyes, but he noticed immediately the way that she shifted slightly away from him and it made him want to scream in frustration, hurt, and rage.

"Do ... do you want me to get you something?" Rose asked hesitantly, breaking the awkward silence between them. "Do you want a cuppa? Or maybe something to eat?" She was already getting up before he responded, ready to dodge outside of his reach once more, but the Doctor instantly knew that he couldn't let her leave. He needed her now more than ever - even the TARDIS knew it.

He grasped her by the wrist without thinking and sighed heavily as he hung his head in a dejected sign of defeat. He still didn't have any words for her - none that he could speak out loud, anyway - so he spoke directly into her mind instead.

You, Rose, he stated simply. I just need you. Please stay.

That's a change. Her response came quickly, without thought, and the bitterness of it nearly broke his hearts all over again. He glanced up to see Rose's eyes grow with panic as she realized that she had accidentally let the thought slip through to him.

The Doctor screwed his eyebrows up at her in confusion as she quickly shuttered the rest of her mind away from him and left him feeling somehow even more lost and abandoned than he already was. "Sorry, I ... I didn't mean it," she stuttered awkwardly. "It just slipped out. Please, Doctor, just ignore that."

"You don't ... you don't actually believe that, do you?" the Doctor asked quietly, running his thumb over the delicate bones in her wrist. "Rose ..."

"No, really, it's fine, Doctor," she insisted dismissively. "It's just ... it's been a long day. A lot has happened, and I don't want to get in your way."

Rose, please, he begged silently once more, bringing her hand close and pressing her knuckles to the skin of his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and let out a shaky, uneven breath as he quietly willed her to let him back in - to fix this mistake, to feel whole again. Please stay.

Rose hesitated, and he didn't have to know her thoughts to feel the tension running through every single muscle of her body as she stared down at him in consideration.

"Promise you won't run away this time," she finally said, her voice a quiet, desperate command.

When the Doctor didn't immediately respond, she sighed and gently slid her hand out of his grasp. "Let me make you some tea," she muttered resignedly. "I'll be right back."

And the Doctor quietly marveled over how even now when he stubbornly refused to give her any kind of promise or reassurance after the absolute hell that he had just put her through, she was still putting himself before her - still trying to take care of him, still loving him as though it was a helpless, thoughtless action. The very thought nearly stopped his hearts and he knew that he couldn't let it end like this - not again.

"Rose, wait," the Doctor insisted, standing to his feet and stepping in front of her so that he stood between her and the library door. "Listen, I ... I'm sorry. For everything, all of it. I've made a right mess of things and I know I don't deserve it - don't deserve you - but please, let me explain ..."

"What is it, Doctor?" Rose sighed wearily, not meeting his eyes as she glanced everywhere except at him.

"I'm ... a coward, Rose," he explained awkwardly. "The biggest coward who ever lived. I've been running all my life from everything, everyone - it's all I've ever known. I even ran from you, because ..."

The Doctor paused and raised his hands, but stepped himself just before he allowed his fingers to touch her because he already knew how badly he had messed up and he wasn't about to go assuming that she wanted anything to do with him unless she specifically stated otherwise. But when Rose finally met his gaze and didn't flinch away, he took that as permission enough and gently allowed his fingers to ghost over her temples.

His eyes shut on instinct and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he sank into her comforting presence - it was so, so different from what had happened not long ago with Reinette and the Doctor silently allowed himself a moment to simply bask in her warmth and allow himself to regain his courage.

Can you feel it? he asked her silently as their thoughts slowly aligned and became one.

Rose offered him a silent, wordless assent as she marveled at the way that their connection quickly fell into place and the tiny bond between them flared.

This is why I ran away, the Doctor explained. This isn't just telepathy, Rose. This is the beginning of a bond - a permanent thing that links two people's minds forever. I didn't even think that it was possible - in fact, it shouldn't be possible - for a human to do this. I was scared. I didn't want to risk having it go any further. At least ... The Doctor's thoughts suddenly scattered and trailed off in a million different directions, silently hinting at all of the things that even now he couldn't quite force himself to say.

But Rose seemed to understand anyway, just as she always did, and wasn't offended by his refusal to create a mental bond with her. She seemed to instinctually recognize that his "at least ..." was meant to end in "not until you agree".

She sighed softly, her breath ghosting against the Doctor's lips and igniting the flame of desire that he had held for her for far longer than he cared to admit. This close in each other's minds, there was no way of hiding it, and her breath hitched on a gasp as the Doctor leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.

I can't promise you much, he admitted silently as he trailed his thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks, but now you know the truth

Thank you, Doctor, Rose replied, her answering flare of love and desire nearly overwhelming him. The truth is enough.

Neither of them bothered to acknowledge the unspoken "for now" that they both knew hung on the end of that thought. After all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, they were content to simply live in the current moment, taking comfort in one another, and saving the rest for another day.

#doctor who #dw #fanfiction #fanfic #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #dw fanfic #dw fanfiction #the doctor #rose tyler #tenth doctor #ten/rose #tenxrose #the doctor/rose #the doctorxrose

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misawa-exchange-blog · 6 years

Text

Long Term Love

For @matsinko. Hi Binnie. Hope you enjoy this mess of a story. I may make a few minor changes in the future but I still like how it turned out. Also thank you for your elaborate “dear creator” letter. It was really helpful in giving me ideas of what to write for you. Anyways enjoy!

From the very pitch into his glove, Miyuki knew that Sawamura Eijun was something special. He may have not known it at the time but that was the day he became completely enamored by the pitcher. The way his golden eyes shine and his smile became so big and bright after each pitch was just some of the things that Miyuki enjoyed seeing from his beloved pitcher.

Game after game, practice after practice they became more stronger as battery partners. It seemed to the team though, that their relationship was nothing more than just teammates. The fact that Miyuki would yell and tease Sawamura whenever he did something wrong or just for fun made the team feel like there was no other feelings they shared with each other.

However, that was not entirely the case. This was because Miyuki had not too long ago developed some romantic feelings towards the pitcher. He didn’t know it at first. But in time he realized that what he felt for Sawamura was totally different than anything he’d ever experience before. He couldn’t describe as it was a rather strange subject matter. He just started to think about Sawamura more than a person usually should of a teammate. For example how smooth his skin must be but how rough his hands must be or how softs his lips must feel or how warm he’d be in his arms. He couldn’t help it. The southpaw pitcher just occupied his mind completely.

Miyuki however never knew how to really express his feelings. His father was always working especially more so after his wife died. Miyuki became rather closed off after the death of his mother. He didn’t let out his feelings, not wanting show to any weakness or emotion. Instead he continued to let his all his feelings out with baseball. All his frustrations coming out after every swing of the bat.With baseball things seemed easy or at least manageable. But when it came to actually telling or showing someone how he felt, it seemed impossible. He knew how he felt but he just didn’t know how to express it.

That however, did not mean he didn’t try. The catcher attempted multiple times to catch Sawamura off guard, but the pitcher was too oblivious to notice anything different about Miyuki’s actions. Even though the catcher would often go out of his way to practice with the pitcher even if it sometimes inconvenience him, it still went over the pitcher’s head.

“Sawamura, shall we practice your pitches after dinner tonight?”

The golden eye boy looked up at the catcher and smiled brightly. “Really?” But then he looks at the catcher rather quizzically. “ Don’t you have a test to study for? I mean that’s why Kuramochi went straight to the library after practice. You know to study.”

“It’s fine. I know the material. Kuramochi is just a dumbass who hardly pays attention during class. So he’s probably just jamming all the information we learned, in one night for the test” Miyuki stated before chuckling. “So what do you say, Sawamura? Pitching practice tonight after dinner?”

The pitcher nodded his head and grinned. “Sure. I’ll meet you at the bullpen at eight.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then, Sawamura”.

That night around 7:55, Miyuki arrives at the bullpen, ready to have a one-on-one session with his personal favorite pitcher. That is until Sawamura showed up five minutes later with Kawakami, Furuya and Ono.

“We’re ready for our pitching practice, Miyuki” Sawamura said happily.

Miyuki had to force himself not to frown or seem rather disappointed. Instead he grew stern as he instantaneously came up with a routine for them all to do and what pitches the pitchers needed to focus on.

“And finally, Sawamura, we will pair up and work on your change up. Everyone got it?”

The boys all nodded their heads in acknowledgement.

“Alright good. Let’s get started. Come with me, Sawamura”. Miyuki then impulsively grabs the pitcher’s wrist and pulls him towards their own private practice bullpen.

However, even in their own station, every so often they were interrupted by a question or a comment made by one of the other boys.

“Miyuki, am I holding the ball right?”

“Miyuki, I think Sawamura should try it this way”.

“Miyuki-senpai. Why can’t you catch my pitches?”

It was then Miyuki realized that his attempt to have Sawamura all for himself that night really did fail. But he didn’t give up just yet. He continued attempting to grab the pitcher’s full attention in every way he could possibly think of, like taking him to an actually pro game (which Sawamura of course invited Furuya and Haruichi to as well), or helping him study for a test in a subject he was failing in, (which again Sawamura had Furuya and Haruichi attend as well), or even trying to hang out alone with him in his room, (in which one of his roommates always came in during the time). Before he knew it Miyuki became a third year and was ready to graduate.

He knew that his feelings for him were still strong but nothing he did seemed to get through to the pitcher clearly. He decided that if Sawamura couldn’t get it after all this time about how he felt then he might as well give up on him. Besides he had other things to focus on; like going to Nationals and going to a good college. There wasn’t any time to worry about someone who doesn’t even get how he felt about them. So Miyuki graduated without explicitly telling Sawamura how he felt about him.

Years passed but even with the distance and the time between them, Miyuki still hasn’t been able to get over the younger brunet. It seems rather silly to still have feelings for the pitcher after such a long time but even after dating both boys and girls he never could get over what he felt for Sawamura Eijun. His past relationships always ended with him saying it just didn’t feel right or being brutally honest and saying he never loved them, albeit the never lasted more than two months.

All his effort into giving the pitcher ended up becoming useless and a waste of time. At least that is what he thought until the unexpected happened.

It was a warm Spring evening and Miyuki had ended his shift at the small cafe he works in for the past few months when his ears caught a familiar roar of laughter. He quickly turns his head towards the noise. His eyes grew wide in shock as his heart rapidly beat in his chest forcing a blood rush to his cheeks. It couldn’t be.

“Sawamura?” he breathes out in disbelief. He takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes a bit before putting them back on. After blinking a few times, he still couldn’t believe his eyes. Just across the street from him stood the golden eye pitcher who is still his long time crush, laughing along with some people he didn’t care to acknowledge.

It happens so fast but before he knew it his crush starts to walk towards him. Panicking, Miyuki swiftly rushes out of Sawamura’s view and hides behind a wall of a corner store. He peaks over to see them still heading towards him.This causes Miyuki to run down the street in fear of being caught.

Unbeknownst to the catcher however, his swift movements wasn’t enough to elude himself from one person. A tall dark haired male was able to decipher the boys features when he peaked behind the wall. He couldn’t help but be a bit shock. He looks towards his friend who was still laughing over a joke someone said earlier before. “Hey Sawamura. I think I just saw your crush. just now, peeking behind that wall ahead of us” the tall dark haired male states.

Sawamura freezes in his place. He then chuckles. “Your funny, Masara. There is no way you just saw Miyuki-senpai”.

“Except that I did. He was just over there peeking behind the wall. I swear it.”

“How are you so sure it’s him? You haven’t even met him, Masara-san”.

Masara gives him a deadpan stare. ��Do you not remember how many pictures you’ve shown me of him? Or the fact that he’s still practically on every sports magazine? Of course I fucking know what he looks like.”

“There is no way you saw him and I don’t believe you. So just drop the subject” Sawamura says before angrily walking away from the rest of the group.

His head was going haywire with millions of thoughts running through his mind. He couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that his long time crush being here in this city. Sure the city is big and there is a huge possibility of them living in the same city and not ever running into each other, he still didn’t believe that his friend saw him. It just didn’t make any sense to him.

Why would Miyuki be here? Why haven’t we seen each other? And why was he hiding behind the wall?

Just when he was starting to forget about the catcher and push the memory of him to the back of his mind, the catcher re-enters it in a matter of seconds. But who was he kidding. No matter how much he tried to forget him, he couldn’t help but still think of him on a daily basis. He misses the way the catcher laughs, smiles and cracks his knuckles before each and every game. And of course he misses how the ball sounded each time it reached Miyuki’s mitt.

Sawamura didn’t have the guts to even approach the boy about his crush back when they were in high school together. For one he wasn’t sure the catcher felt the way and two he didn’t want to ruin the relationship they already had. He was fine with admiring from afar and hiding his feelings whenever he got closed to him. And every time there was a chance he could get alone with him, he purposely brought others along so he wouldn’t have to be alone with him. The fear of admitting his feelings if they were alone terrified him so he never let that chance happen.

And over time his feelings only grew stronger and before he knew it they were seperated when Miyuki had to go to college. Now several years later all of the sudden the possibility of getting back to that time where they could co-exist together could actually happen. And that is something Sawamura didn’t even imagine could be a possibility. And now that it is, he didn’t even know how to process the information.

“Sawamura. Dude. You alright?”

The pitcher shakes out of his reverie and turns towards his friend. “Yeah. I’m alright. Just need to find out if the person you saw is actually here.”

“How exactly are you going to figure that out?”

“I don’t know yet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miyuki finally slows down when he felt he was far enough away from his crush. He reaches a small park and sits himself on a bench to catch his breath. He grabs out his phone and types out a text.

“Youichi. He’s here. -MK”

“Who?” -KY

“Who the fuck else? HIM” - MK

“Wait? As in Sawamura? Really? Where did you see him and when?” - KY

“Just now after work. He was across the street from me. He was with other people. But he’s definitely here.” -MK

“Did he see you?” -KY

“No. I panicked and ran away.” - MK

“Why am I not surprised? So what’s your plan? Are you going to meet up with him?” - KY

“I don’t know. Anyways. I’ll grab us dinner and meet you at our place.” - MK

“Alright. See you soon.”- KY

Miyuki pockets his phone before releasing a sigh. “Can’t believe he’s actually here” he mutters under his breath before he walks towards the direction of his apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sawamura parts ways with his friends once he reaches his bus stop. Unfortunately during this time of the night the busses are usually crowded, however, he was able to find two empty seats near the back of the bus. He places his backpack on the seat next to him.

He so happens to be on the last stop of this bus route and that was still quite a long way from where he is now. Thankfully he had his phone to keep himself occupied for the rest of the 45 minute ride home.

A few stops later new passengers arrived and departed yet none have ever had to take the seat next to him. However, one more passenger boarded than departed. Unfortunately that meant Sawamura had to move his backpack to let the passenger on. Just as he was putting his backpack on the floor next to his feet, the person stood frozen just a few feet from him. It wasn’t until their eyes met did he understand why.

“Sawamura?” the frozen male’s voice states as his eyes met the younger pitcher.

“Miyuki?! ” Sawamura shouts in astonishment before suddenly the bus moves forward causing Miyuki to crash onto Sawamura’s lap.

The catcher stumbles to get out of the pitcher’s lap before finally settling to the seat next to him.

His cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment. He just couldn’t believe he’d run into him so soon after almost running into him earlier today. Unable to find words to say, Miyuki legs start to shake in nervousness.

“So, w-when your stop?” Sawamura asks after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“Uh. Oh right. The one right before the last stop. How about you?” Miyuki replies as he turns to look at him.

“Mine is the last stop” Sawamura states. “So..uh. How long have you been in town?”

“Since I graduated Seido. H-how about you?” Miyuki stutters out. He knew he was stuttering a lot but this is Sawamura, for chrissake. He couldn’t help but be a bit more nervous than usual.

“Oh. I didn’t know you moved here. I actually just moved here two months ago.”

“Ah. I see. That makes sense as to why I haven’t seen you around then. So I uh..I got an apartment with Youichi. Would you believe that?”

“No way. Kuramochi-senpai? That’s actually hilarious. First he was my roommate now he’s yours. Does he still snore?” Sawamura answers with a smile.

Miyuki chuckles. “We don’t actually share a room so he’s more like a housemate but yes he still snores.”

“Good to know some things haven’t changed, I guess” Sawmura states.

“I guess you’re right. Anyways how have you been, Sawamura? Still pitching I hope?”

“Of course! I still aim to be the best Ace Pitcher I can be.”

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t stop chasing your dreams. Something I admire about you” Miyuki states.

Sawamura starts to blush at the uncalled for compliment. “T-thanks.”.

“So did you and Wakana finally get together?” Miyuki jokingly asks, secret;y hoping the answer is “no”

“Wakana? And Me? You’re kidding me right? She’s like my sister. And the only guy I’d date is you” Sawamura says before laughing, not realizing his mistake.

Miyuki’s eyes widen in shock. “What did you just say? I’m the only guy you’d date?”

Sawamura’s eyes widen in shock after realizing what he just blatantly admitted out loud.” I…I mean.. I…” he starts to stutter. “What I meant.. Was…..well..” his cheeks start to flush red in embarrassment. “Look I’ve had a crush on you since high school” he admits before turning towards the window, not wanting to show his face towards the catcher.

Miyuki’s heart was pounding rapidly. He was stunned beyond disbelief. How did he really not know. After all this time, the pitcher was feeling the same way he was. It was then he smacks Sawamura’s head. “You idiot. I’ve tried so hard to get you to realize that I like you too but you never caught on”.

“Ow!” Sawamura says with a frown before his eyes turn to shock once more. “Wait are you serious? You had a crush on me too!?”

“Yes, Seriously. I tried so many times to be alone with you but every time I tried, you’d bring someone along with us. It seemed like you didn’t want to be alone with me.”

“That’s not true…well I mean… okay…it was more complicated than that. I just got scared that if we were alone I’d ended up admitting my feelings and you’d reject me and I get hurt. And I just couldn’t take that chance because I really really like you, Miyuki”.

Miyuki eyes soften a bit. He chuckles. “You’re such an idiot, Sawamura.”

“Hey. You could have just told me you had a crush on me too!”

“You’re right. I didn’t. I guess I’m an idiot too.”

“Last stop!” The bus driver announces.

“Oh guess I missed my stop” Miyuki chuckles.

“Uh.I know this is kind of last minute but would you want to come over for a bit?”

Miyuki smiles and nods his head before grabbing his phone as he gets up from his seat. “Sure. Let me just text Youichi I’ll be home late. You know how much he worries”.

“Good idea” Sawamura smiles before he grabs his backpack and heads towards the exit.

Miyuki follows behind closely, thanking the bus driver for the ride.

Sawamura holds out his hand and Miyuki instantly takes it, forming a newfound love out of long term crush.

#misawa exchange #misawa #submission

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gardnerkathryn1993 · 4 years

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Cat Spray Medication Wonderful Useful Ideas

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#Cat Spray Medication Wonderful Useful Ideas #How Much Does It Cost To Spay A Cat At Petsmart

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ireneinisolation-blog · 4 years

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3/20 - COVID Dreams

I’m getting to this rather late in the day, and while I had planned for a larger topic, I’ve decided to go light instead, especially as it is so close before bed and I don’t want to wind myself up. Here it goes.

Since coronavirus first started circulating in Wuhan in January and the first stories of it started to make it here (not sure exactly when it was, but early-ish) I’ve had dreams and nightmares about it. Interestingly, I don’t think I actually had the virus in any of these dreams, but a lot of anxiety surrounding exposure and quarantines. I don’t think have yet begun to have anxiety dreams about economic collapse, but I’m sure those will come eventually in one form or another.

I think my earliest dream was just a vague idea of being in quarantine. But it was not super negative or all that emotional overall. It was just that I was in quarantine for suspected exposure, and that was it, nothing happened.

Another one a few days later involved my college roommate inviting me to go on a day trip with her to Shanghai. I politely declined as I did not want to be exposed to the virus. After that, some Veronica Mars characters appeared out of nowhere and that was a nice distraction.

I later had another covid dream with Veronica Mars characters, interestingly. Though not that interestingly I suppose as I was rewatching old episodes around January/February. In the second dream, it was a very anxious dream. I was quarantined at a military base after possible exposure to the virus. We slept in an open room (the same as in the images that came out of Wuhan where people with mild versions of the virus were kept), and our eating was regulated by when the military allowed us to have food. It was completely out of control, and within the dream I felt quite anxious. But I guess my mind decided to turn it around. One of my close friends from childhood showed up, and then it was like instead of being in quarantine, we were just having a sleepover at a military base with a bunch of other people. And then Logan from Veronica Mars showed up - hot Logan from the movie and newest season. So my friend from childhood and I just spent our time flirting with him. My brain really improved that situation. By the end, not such a bad dream.

I think there have been other dreams about quarantine. Honestly, too many dreams of this variety to count at this point.

One of the weirdest dreams I’ve had so far on this topic, and honestly one of the weirdest dreams I’ve had in a while relates to the movie Melancholia, which I did not see recently, but have been thinking about a lot recently. I saw it for a class when I was younger and I hated it. I still hate it. But for whatever reason it really stuck with me. So basically, first half the movie, main character played by Kirsten Dunst is super depressed during and after marrying a rather bland looking Alexander Skarsgaard. The second half the movie, there is an impeding apocalypse because there is another planet that is about to smash into the earth and kill everyone, and Dunst’s character suddenly finds a way to be ecstatic and really come into herself in the end of the world. When she is doing this, she can be seen doing all kinds of weird things in which she is reveling in the end of everything. One of those weird things she is doing is that she lounges, naked under the night sky, glowing in the bright light of the approaching planet. It is some weird symbolism (I think the movie is something about her not being able to handle living, while everyone else can’t handle dying? I don’t know. Lars Von Trier is fucking weird). Well I’ve been thinking about this movie a lot lately, because I’ve been thinking about how people are responding to this current “apocalypse” (not really an apocalypse, but still damn shitty hellhole). Some people hoard TP, some people retreat from the world, and some people, interestingly, seem to thrive on the chaos. Not necessarily in the sociopath way, not necessarily not in that way either (some of them are sociopaths). A week ago, I feel like I was feeling a little like this. Feeling invincible in the face of uncertainty. If only I could get the virus early, know I had it (but also just really hope that I wouldn’t have a severe reaction), and then everything would be fine, right? This week? Not so much. Now I’m just super anxious and not feeling very Kirsten Dunst in Melancholia-esque. But I still know a few people are like this. Anyway, that’s all background. Here’s the dream:

I was on the side of a hill near a house, and under a tent? like those weird outdoor ones that are white and used at festivals. Well outside of the tent was someone who I - in real life - knew when I was younger but have totally lost contact with. She was lying on the side of the hill, naked, and basking in the end of the world! Freud with surely have a fucking hay day with this one. Within my dream, I tried to avert my eyes as it would be indecent to see her that way. But she was reveling, and complained of my prudishness. Then the dream changed, apparently my brain was bothered. Instead we were in her house - both clothed - and she had a tiny yappy dog that was jumping all around. I was super annoyed with it, and tried to go upstairs and lock the annoying dog outside of the room. Somehow it got in, and then I spent the rest of the dream trying to figure out how to kick the dog out of the room. (I’m not normally so weird with dogs. I mean, small yappy ones can be quite annoying, but overall I’m quite the animal enthusiast.) So yeah... that dream was quite weird, especially as far as Freudian related things go. But I swear it wasn’t sexual. It was just WTF Melancholia.

Another dream that I had very recently first involved a bunch of teenagers getting drunk at my high school - I wasn’t in high school, but there and observing - they were being very rowdy, and very gathered together. I found out from the administration that they were partying to protest social distancing. Like dicks. This was no doubt based on the face that I keep hearing about people, especially college kids, doing shit like this that is going to fuck over everyone else in the end. The fact that they were teenagers probably relates to me recently watching Sex Education on Netflix to distract from the unpleasantness.

The second half of that dream, I was at a music festival with a bunch of women in their 70s and older. I was standing near the registration desk, and a few women were asking if they really have to wash their hands all the time, as it is inconvenient because their aren’t enough facilities for it and they want to just relax. Then they asked if they could just keep their hands in their pockets instead of washing their hands. We all agreed this would probably be fine. I think this dream probably relates to my anxiety and the world’s anxiety about older people getting the virus. But also the issue that some older people are not taking the situation seriously enough and keep going out anyway.

That’s all for my recent covid dreams. I am sure that there are many more to come, unfortunately. I will update later if any more interesting ones come up.

Let’s see, daily updates... daily updates... Thank god for my fidget spinner. It’s been doing a lot of work to absorb my nervous energy. It’s now over a week into my shelter in place and my apartment is still a fucking mess. I really should rally to clean it at some point. Wouldn’t it be nice to come out of all of this (at some point in the unknown future) and actually be a person with a clean apartment? Yes, I think that would be nice. I did some baking today, and that made me feel temporarily better because baking is such a nice distraction. Also, I was feeling very crappy the first half of the day. Certainly anxiety related. I just had this pit in my stomach and felt ill. Well I decided to make one of my favorite meals for lunch, and it got me back on track to feeling better. It is fare to say, few other people would find it comforting, but I love it: A bowl of chickpeas and chopped red cabbage with apple cider vinegar, EV olive oil, salt, onion powder, and garlic powder. It feels healthful and tastes delicious. In news related to the first half of the last item, I’ve been anxiety fasting. It’s motivated by the same thing as stress eating, but with the opposite reaction. Unfortunately, once I start this, it is hard to re-regulate my food, and then by extension my sleep, habits. I’m trying to do better. The chickpeas and cabbage helped.

Goodnight! I hope my dreams are free of anything covid related!

#coronavirus diaries #covid diaries #covid-19 #diary #dreams #nightmare

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itsallavengers · 7 years

Text

4th July

On the first day of the month, Steve arranged things.

Hotel and cab booked, tickets sorted, overnight bag packed. He was ready to go at a moment’s notice. He’d even pre-written his letter of apology to the others, in case he didn’t have time to say goodbye.

He was prepared.

Last year, he’d been stupid. Left it too late, and then faced the consequences throughout the whole damn week. He wasn’t going to be stupid this time. He was prepared, see.

Unfortunately, it was very difficult to plan anything when you had people like Tony Stark living in the same tower as you. That man was predictably unpredictable. Damn him.

“Steve?” Came the confused voice from the door, and Steve jerked, turning around quickly and looking up, spotting Tony leaning against the wall with his arms folded, looking at him in confusion.

Well, not him. The bag he was re-packing was what was grabbing all the attention right now.

“What… what are you doing?” Tony asked, brow furrowed deeply as he stepped further in and took a shirt from the pile of luggage. Steve quickly snatched it back, stuffing it into his bag defensively.

“Nothing, Tony, I’m just…packing,” Steve muttered, searching for his toothbrush among the mess.

Tony paused, and Steve got the feeling he was holding back a sigh of exasperation. “Hmm- yes, I gathered that much. I was just wondering, y’know, why?”

Steve kept his eyes fixed on the shirt he was folding in front of him. “Birthday plans,” he lied, before spinning around to face Tony, preparing to usher him back out of the door.

He stopped when he noticed how obviously Tony’s face had fallen, and the hurt look that was lingering on his face.

Fucking Tony. It had to be Tony who had caught him. Anyone else, and he probably could have just let it slide.

“What’s wrong?” he said with a sigh, because he was a fucking sucker.

Tony quickly smoothed his face over and smiled, that horrible brittle one that made Steve want to argue relentlessly with him, just to bring out some semblance of an emotion on his face instead of that thing. “Nothing, nothing. Go, be free, it’s your birthday, you need to relax. I’m happy you’re actually taking a break for onc-”

“Tony,” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow and grabbing his shoulders between his two hands, “what’s wrong?”

Tony paused, and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to continue to bullshit his way through it, but then his face just sort of…fell again, and he shook his head.

“I…uh, remember we had- uh- plans? Your big party at the tower! and then you and me were going to catch a movie afterward? I don’t… I mean, obviously, you’ve got other plans, and that’s fine, I don’t mind, honestly,” Tony assured him, blustering around back and forth between his two feet and generally looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than in Steve’s room.

As soon as Tony had begun speaking, Steve realised he was right. Shit. He hadn’t been paying too much attention to the dates when Tony had spoken about it- too busy having a little crisis over the fact that Tony had pretty much asked him out to notice about the when and where of it all.

Shit.

“I…” Steve stumbled, trying to think of what to say to try and fix this, to try and not be such a stupid fucking idiot, “I’m really sorry, I forgot completely-”

Oh, fuck, that just made Tony look even more sad. Steve was pretty sure if he looked any more upset he’d make Steve start crying through fucking exposure.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, grabbing Tony’s forearm desperately, “I was just… God, I just need to leave for a week. Okay?”

“Why?”

Steve winced. “I just… have to, okay, but we can do it when I get back! I-”

“Steve, if you don’t want to, and you’d rather be alone, that’s absolutely fine,” Tony said, giving him a sad smile as he began backing away, “you go, uh, do your thing. Have fun, be merry, it’s your birthday, you deserv-”

“I can’t handle the fireworks,” Steve blurted, and then immediately balked.

Shit. Shit shit fuck shit fuck fuck shit, he shouldn’t have told Tony that. He’d made sure not to let anyone know that, God dammit, it was so fucking stupid-

“What?” Tony asked blankly.

“Nothing,” Steve jumped in immediately, desperately trying to quell the sickening shame in his gut and the red on his cheeks as he put an arm on Tony’s shoulder and started pushing again, more forceful this time, “listen, Tony, I’ve really got to get back to-”

“You can’t handle fireworks?” Tony asked again, and shit, it didn’t seem like he had missed that like Steve had hoped.

Steve stopped. Sighed. Let go of Tony’s arm and turned away. “uh, yeah- no, I can’t. It’s a thing, I don’t know, I just… I’m fine, I’m just gonna… head out to the country for a week or so, because, y’know,” Steve gestured vaguely to himself, “4th of July and all.”

“Lots and lots of fireworks,” Tony said slowly, eyes widening a little in understanding. “Right.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before Tony opened his mouth again. Steve, however, got in first.

“Please don’t, Tony,” he said, shaking his head, “whatever you’re about to say, I don’t… just leave it. I’m fine.”

“But it’s your birthday,” Tony said weakly, “don’t you want to… I don’t know, celebrate that?”

“Maybe in a world where I’d never gone to goddamn war, yeah,” Steve snapped angrily, “I would love to get through one fucking birthday without screaming, y’know, would be swell, but unlucky for me, life doesn’t agree. So sorry I’m not gonna be present this week, but believe me, it’s for the best.”

He was fucking tired. What the fuck was it with people setting off fireworks a week in advance to the fucking celebration? It made no fucking sense and Steve was sick of coming back to himself after a minute of sheer panic and realizing he’d crawled under his fucking bed to stop the non-existent shrapnel burying itself in his skull-

Tony said something, but it was white noise to Steve, and he’d marched out of the room before any of it could sink in anyway.

It was 4am. Everyone was asleep. No one would notice him slipping out, and he’d left his note for them in the morning. Turns out it was easier to explain his absence on paper than it was face to face.

“Steve! Just wait a second!”

God fucking dammit.

Wearily, he turned again, watching Tony hurry toward him, jumping down the stairs two at a time in his ratty jeans and faded band tshirt. “What do you want, Tony?” He asked.

Tony stopped moving once he got to Steve’s side and grabbed his hand excitedly. “Listen- I’m going to propose something awesome to you that you really should have thought of before deciding it was best to fuck off into the middle of nowhere on your own, but whatever, I won’t hold it to you, I am a genius-”

“Tony,”

“Right, yes, yes, okay,” Tony paused, and took a breath before looking Steve in the eye. “Let me come with you?”

Steve stopped. That was… certainly an idea. Bad or good, Steve wasn’t too sure.

“ I know you might think it’s weird and forward or whatever, but a) fuck the stereotypes, just as a matter of principle more than anything, and b)-” Tony’s hand tightened briefly around Steve’s as he shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance that, in Steve’s opinion, didn’t work out for him very well, “you shouldn’t be alone on your birthday, Steve. That just sucks. You… you deserve better than that. You deserve someone to be there with you.” He shrugged again, biting his lip, “and I know I’m not like, y’know, this Special Thing or whatever, and really you should have someone better here for you, but at the moment everyone else is asleep and-”

Tony was cut off as Steve laid his hand across Tony’s moving mouth, effectively silencing the fast-derailing thought process. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he watched Tony just stand there, Steve’s hand over his mouth, not knowing quite what to do.

It was honestly more than a little adorable.

“That would be… nice,” Steve admitted softly, “but Tony- it’s really late, and you have work, and I don’t want to inconvenience you-”

Tony scoffed, removing Steve’s hand to speak. “Believe me, this would be my pleasure. I’m pretty sure Fury’s out for my head this week anyway, so I need somewhere to lay low. Don’t sweat it, Rogers, I’ve got it all sorted.”

Steve looked at him for a moment; watched the way his gaze flickered briefly from Steve’s eyes to his mouth and then back up, or the way his heart was beating just that little bit faster than normal through the pulse in his wrist.

“Sure, Tony- come along for the ride,” Steve said with a smile and a fond roll of his eyes.

Tony positively beamed, and then held up a finger as he rushed over to the kitchen counter, where he pulled out a bag of his own and then hurried back to Steve’s side, still grinning.

“You were confident, then,” Steve said dryly, eyeing the bag full of stuff.

Tony raised his eyebrows. “I am very persuasive. I hedged my bets.”

Steve just huffed and hid a smile behind his hand as he pulled Tony into the elevator with him, feeling the all-too-familiar sensation of butterflies in his stomach as Tony smiled up at him.

The sky was beautifully clear, and the place was utterly, utterly silent.

Well. Apart from Tony. Of course.

Don’t you think it’s so incredible? Literally, Steve, look at them. Look at those insignificant, stupid little dots in the sky. They created every atom in your body. Every atom on this planet. Each atom in the visible universe. And they’re up there. We’re looking at…creation,” Tony gushed, hands waving through the air as they pointed at random objects in the sky.

They were both sat on the grass outside the tiny barn Steve had rented, a blanket under their backs as they stared up into the blissfully clear skies.

The stars hadn’t changed. That was all the same, at least. It was comforting.

“-and, I mean, there’s so much we don’t know yet, and probably never will. It frustrates the damn hell out of me. I hate not knowing stuff. Main reason I never pursued astronomy or theoretical physics. Theoretical physics, Steve- a whole branch of science dedicated to not knowing things,” Tony shuddered, and Steve felt it reverberate through his shoulder, “Good lord, the horror.”

Steve just smiled and nodded along, listening as Tony explained how stars were made and something about dark matter. Steve didn’t really follow it. He was more interested in how Tony’s hands moved, and the way the moonlight illuminated each curve and crease in Tony’s face, and the fact that he hadn’t thought about bombs even once since this trip-

“Thank you,” he whispered suddenly, cutting through Tony’s speech more effectively with those two quietly spoken words than Fury could in a direct scream.

There was silence as Tony paused, and turned his head to look over at Steve. He opened his mouth, undoubtedly to ask ‘what for’ before he caught on and nodded in understanding.

He didn’t say anything. Just grabbed Steve’s hand and linked their fingers together.

Closing his eyes and once more reveling in the silence and lack of terrifyingly familiar hisses or whines that had always haunted his birthday before, he brought Tony’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles there.

Steve heard Tony exhale ever so slightly, and felt with amusement as his pulse suddenly spiked. Neither of them said anything, but Tony shifted a little after a few moments; shuffling closer until his body pressed against Steve’s.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” Tony said softly, his head falling against Steve’s chest.

It was soft and silent and perfect, and Steve let his spare hand trail aimlessly over the soft curls of Tony’s hair as they lay there on the thick grass in the dead of night. Honestly, they probably needed to talk about a few things that had changed tonight.

But for now, Steve was just going to enjoy the stars above him and Tony beside him and the fact that the world appeared to have stopped, just for tonight- just for him.

#steve rogers #captain america #stevetony #avengers #marvel #happy birthday babe #boy i need to go to sleep now #itsallavengers writes

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imperialtrellis · 7 years

Note

Please rattle off more interesting caste cases!

Anonymous said to imperialtrellis: Can you rattle off interesting caste cases from other countries too please, I want to hear them

{context}

somehow I knew this was going to happen.

(Preemptive note for anyone who’s about to come complaining about things being so rare it shouldn’t be countable: there are 13 billion people on our planet. Something with a one in a million chance has reasonably happened 13 thousand times just among people alive right now).

Alright,

Caste shenanigans: babies

So an actually comparatively common one is, anytime in a patrilineal country when someone who does the ‘two hookups with new people every day’ in spring thing gets pregnant and decides they want to keep the baby and go for an aftermarket credit and not only doesn’t know who the father actually is but doesn’t even know how to contact a good bit of the potentials so they can’t even do a test.

Obviously there’s an incentive around for the mother to just say it was the caste with the currently cheapest aftermarket credit (since the ordering of those doesn’t actually always track with the ordering of auction prices this can sometimes vary) (and some incentive to say something else if they want a kid of a particular caste for some reason and have figured out how to afford it). And then places divide between being fine with this vs going matrilineal for these cases. (There was a rather elaborate proposal at some point about genetic testing and trying to figure out the father’s caste that way, but it ran into a) medical issues and b) first you then have to figure all your standards out, and then no doubt someone’s going to try to take it to court…)

There’s one place where three part marriages are common enough and if it’s two husbands it’s considered really insulting to try and figure out who the ‘real’ father is. They’re matrilineal, but it means in a most mixed case you can have a kid having two parents of castes they’re not actually in one of whom they’re not genetically related to. And in a two-and-one case you can have a kid who’s similar to say a half yellow in terms of being raised even though they’re in fact all green.

There was the case in Voa where a couple who came in on tourist visas decided to try to have a kid while there and weren’t caught until they had the kid (no I have no idea how or why they thought this was going to work…). And their country was patrilineal so there was a bit of a debate (that was also all tangled up in the legal issues and who was supposed to deal with what and all).

There’s the completely bizarre case that’s I guess kind of the opposite of mine where the couple decided they were going to have a kid on a boat in international waters and, uh, just live there, and then that went about as well as you’d expect but somehow not in a way where anyone died and their countries also had different caste inheritance rules and it was a mess all around. (And someone wrote this op-ed about how if only one of them was from Tapa haha and then a bunch of people jumped on him and there was an extra mess too.)

If anyone’s familiar with intersexuality, ‘caste matches parent’ countries can have that come up, and there’s been stuff around changes caused by the fact that advances in medicine means there’s information we can tell now that we couldn’t longer ago.

Of course there’s always blues from whatever is -lineal in their countries who want to do the ‘side family’ thing anyway and try to arrange for their partners to pretend the other parent was whatever caste they want to buy a credit for. For obvious reason this tends to men, but there’s a non zero number of women who tried or succeeded at the ‘I’m going to take a long spring vacation at my isolated vacation home and oh look one of the staff has had a baby what happy news’ thing, and now a non zero number of women who try to finagle things with surrogacy.

(I’m actually pretty sure this one’s underreported - it’s in some ways even easier than the usual because you can arrange with a couple and then no one needs to make up excuses about where the missing parent is, the pregnant person does get to end the pregnancy with a baby to take care of, and the couple can often get a chunk of money toward their own baby a future year and can usually count on some amount of nice stuff for the kid down the line. And as long as the doctor’s discrete and there’s no really obvious blue hair incidents, it’s pretty unlikely anyone’s finding out.)

(Ever since I found out that Met officially does matrilineality by womb I’ve been very curious about this kind of thing going down there because it looks like you could get it done and not even have to do anything illegal or quasi-legal, though I haven’t gotten around to actually looking into it.)

Also people usually talk about this one with credits, but while it’s hard to get numbers you definitely have cases in permissions countries with blues who can grant kids to other castes but not themselves who, um, utilize this solution to that.

Oh, and while the stereotype about this is blues greens do sometimes do it too, especially in the places where greens are permissions too and other castes are credits.

Caste shenanigans: not babies

So with kids while as demonstrated things are not as straightforward as they might often be presented, in the end usually some decision gets made and the kid has a caste to be raised as and all that. This remains of a lot of interest to caste freedom type people re the arbitrary vs natural categories discussion, but it does often enough have that ultimate conclusion for those involved.

And - of course, sometimes it doesn’t.

Cases like Afen Kisantami where there’s no legal claim but it’s put through anyway are - I’m not going to say it never happens, I’m guessing there’ve been other cases where someone had the right combo of aptitude and influence to get it to stick, but there’s certainly not many, at least in recent history.

Cases like Afen’s kids where someone really wants something and decides to try to leverage having some claim come up a bit more.

For the side families case this is fairly rare with blues, which I think is generally because the blues have been doing this a while and have the organization to block things off, though there’s been a few cases where an only heir ends up dead or unable to have more kids and suddenly look a lovely grandchild materializes. Greens seem to have a slightly higher rate of trying to claim the kid later on, usually when ‘green has since ended up with more money’ and ‘kid is displaying aptitude the green parent is interested in’ intersect. Since greens generally have less ability to make inconvenient admissions to fraud go away, this is usually guys playing the ‘there was that night of passion right when she was trying to get pregnant and I just recently ran into her again and thought the kid’s eyes looked just like mine!’ card.

For the ‘yeah I’m not going to be able to round up everyone I slept with’ case there’s a few versions - kid grows up and has some trait that makes it in retrospect clearer who dad was, mom actually knew all along but wanted the cheaper credit and she plays the ‘I saw him and recognized his eyes’ card, someone or other actually runs into each other and recognizes eyes… If everyone around is fine with kid’s caste this will usually be left to lie; if someone isn’t you get stuff.

And of course intercaste cheating accusations are always… fun, but if the cheating comes up not right away and the -lineal’s in the right direction that’s also a thing.

(In as much as you can observe trends on such fairly small numbers, how these things then end up seems to mostly hinge on the judge of whatever court stuff goes up before, or else on the amount of either influence or indifference one has to avoid the judge route.)

#amenta rp #luminousalicorn #asks #anonymous #ooc: thanks again to Alicorn for canonicity okness checking #I post #castes #caste freedom #met #dyadic person talking about intersex things cw

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taeyangfmd-blog · 6 years

Text

❀ ｓｅｌｆｐａｒａ ❀ ❀ ｇｒａｐｈ - 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 (january 2018) wrd count; ~1,686

“it’s a shame that there’s snow today,” taeyang observes, tightening his grip on the ceramic bowls left behind by a certain foursome from an early lunch. after they clatter to the sink from his disposal, he gathers another set of dishes, four mugs, some filled with now cold green tea and others coffee, cradling them in one arm and turning the dial of his old-fashioned radio to ‘off’ with his free hand. he has no time to be distracted by the slowly gathering powdered snow outside, as nice as he might have found it a month ago. it reminded him of the catholic christmases spent back home, cutting daikon radishes and soaking rice for a tableside dinner while jesus’ manger rocked close to the brick fireplace in the family sitting room. the squeal was a comfort against the scary wind blowing outside warping the windows in on themselves. the little wooden manger was a project of his father’s and taeyang didn’t care much for the meaning of it as a kid once it was finished as much as he cared about the mesmerizing rocking it gave from side to side.

‘it’d make a nice folksy piece in the living room now,’ he realizes after finishing the risky journey to the kitchen and planting himself in the center of the living room to assess the rest of the mess left around. other than the smell of stale coffee and expensive cologne, the flat is back to the normalcy of usual, and misha and cain, dogs more lax than their sentimental owner, burrow themselves under the large piano reflected in the walls of glass windows of the room. it’s a pinterest worthy sight, especially with the tall order of bamboo plants winding up the sides of the scene and meeting ferns hanging from the walls. beneath the feet of the piano, a large rug, nordic print and low-cut unlike the large white shag one in taeyang’s bedroom, catches the water that overflows from them from time and makes a good ground for the ladder taeyang stands to reach the hung arrangements. that, and the struggle of feeding the koi fish in the large tank opposite the windows and past the kitten gray-colored couch that taesung and haejun crammed themselves onto not too long ago, were just a few of the banes of taeyang’s height.

“they cleaned me out, guys,” taeyang sighs to his pups, crouching by the piano and petting them through oversized sleeves after hiking up his glasses. “it’s high time i fill these cabinets anyways. you guys need more food, hungry fiends,” he continues, nodding to himself as if their watery eyes and eager ears are an answer to his musing. if anything it warrants a good scratching behind the ears for each of them and shrugs himself into a dark sweater and black mask to boot, diving down to the parking garage to walk to the overpriced market closer to the heart of gangnam than his enclosed housing complex.

a bundle of carnation colored envelopes sit on the gray stained wood coffee table once holding the boys’ mugs from earlier, abandoned by taeyang for the last five days; they eye his boots as they clip the door upon leaving and the open door resolves with a bark from the dogs.

the convenience store is near empty this time of the evening, not that the high prices draw in many people besides someone like taeyang anyways. people want to buy bulk beef at low prices and don’t care how much tug it gives. a decade ago he might’ve agreed, before his tastes got expensive. even then, the rich and bored folk living in the penthouses just feet away from the market go cheap with their meat or settle for noodles. taeyang’s never liked a person who couldn’t cook for himself, whether they ate with a silver spoon or not.

he supposes him and his little plastic basket full of black truffle and white bok choy are inseparable that way.

taeyang doesn’t pick up too much, just a parcel of fish, bones in for soup, more vegetables, ingredients for dog snacks, and a great deal of candies and cakes that wait for the cartons of milk he’s eying up in the dairy aisles. his lips turn in on themselves in conclusively and he pulls his mask down, no fan or dust threat here, to take a deep breath of the cold air. ‘is bagged milk better?’ he’s asking himself as he gathers a carton of milk, two actually, one strawberry, and nestles it in between his matcha custard snack cakes and boxes of water before paying.

his black card doesn’t see the light as much as it used to. cash is more humbling and reminds him more of a simpler time than those of the rolex in his jewelry box back home unworn for a year. he’s thought about pawning it a few times, but knows it would draw attention of anyone was more meddlesome than they needed to be. something about the idea of the ghost of the media, decipher’s taeyang, going broke and losing control over his life would be a good ten pager for bc-anti netizens to gnaw at on exclusive, he’s sure of it. so his greens and sweets get paid for in won bills and he’s on his walk back home, mask replaced.

there’s nothing more refreshing to him than being able to stroll down the street, unwatched and unfilmed, and for once a slice of normalcy presides over his life.

after the groceries are packed away and the puppies are fed, taeyang finally puts his feet up. for the majority of his worries to center around entertaining his brothers and taking care of pets is a softening fact, like the bulbs of his tulips he notices opening prematurely, and he can’t help but crack a smile at the blank television staring at him. he’d comment about the size of the thing feeling imposing if the sudden appearance of the letters in the corner of his eye, once in his blind spot, didn’t knot a cherry stem in the pit of his stomach.

‘taeyang,’ his name hangs on the envelope like the planters from his ceilings, ink shaky and ‘g’ dangling on the head of the envelope from a frail writing hand. there’s a dove drawn on the side of the parchment and a decalcomanie-fashioned family seal presses itself in the upper corner. he knows where it’s from at first sight, and perhaps he knew earlier when tossing the mail to its deathbed in the first place.

either way, he’s calm enough by the time he grabs the letter up now and breaks the seal, rolling his thumb over the stationary. the texture is like old litmus paper and feelings soft under his thumb, and the heady scent of ink and leaflets is a familiar essence that makes his stomach hurt.

“my mochi,” taeyang sighs aloud with his mother’s tone in mind.

“you’ve grown so big.” (he appreciates the lie. it’s always been her favorite.) i headed to seoul recently, since your father refuses to deal with the city. i thought to buy my first phone in years, but i think our little landline at home is enough. i know you won’t answer my calls anymore, and that’s okay, but seeing your face all over the city made my heart soar. it’s perhaps why i almost bought the phone. i want to hear your music, i want to see you, i want to know how your career’s going. do you still model? how are your group members? are you all eating well? i bet they’ve grown too since the last time you’ve mailed us photos of you all. they’re not as old as they think they are. your father is the one getting old, i think. he’s complaining about his back and gray hairs that suddenly bother him. i want to tell him that they’ve always been there. well. please write me back. button and mang miss you very much. (his former horses) did you know mang gave birth? you can call the landline xx-xxxx if you’d like to know more. stay healthy and eat well, my big strong ricecake. mom.”

misha and cain are nuzzling their heads in taeyang’s lap by the time he finishes the letters. he hasn’t talked to his mother in years, and smoothing his thumbs over the photos of the new foal of his old horse bloats his stomach further, a cinnamon feeling like tears burning in his eyes. the photo is more painful than the guilty of a rolex or a black card, and the empty mugs sitting on the drying rack in the kitchen are a painful reminder of how lonely he is. his parents refuse to move to the city, no matter how much money he sends back to them. his mother didn’t even let him know she was in the city. the hours long distance between the farm and seoul is worth the re-opening of decade deep wounds, worth any scheduling inconvenience in the world. how he’d long to have his mom count his freckles, to meet his dogs and comment about how much he hasn’t changed after all. how much he’d long to show her off to his brothers and watch them blanch away from her kisses.

the limelight and the distance have burned him and the high of his career, once built higher than his nineteenth floor residency, sinks the letter to the floor in ashes. his hands don’t bother to shift through them and the cinnamon in his eyes turns quickly to hot and salty tears that stop short of his chin and make him look like nothing more than a child. he hiccups loudly in the lonesome house, uncaring of his masculinity being compromised, or the loudness of his sobs over his ringing phone. he’s always been emotional and once his faucet is turned on, he doesn’t stop.

on the couch, he falls asleep rocking himself back and forth like jesus’ manger in his old home, calling out to mary and joseph and the crystal snow.

he knew he shouldn’t have opened that letter. |

#| ❅ SONNET - 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 |#(reposted because i messed up my post order

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baekyeolife · 7 years

Text

Beating Heart Part 2 (Baekyeol)

Quick Author’s Note:

There will be a part 3! I apologize to the anon who requested this for the long length x.x

WARNING: CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT

if you are uncomfortable reading the graphic parts then please do skip over it^^

______________________

Moist lips skim off of one another slowly, as if savoring the taste and all that comes with it. Chanyeol is looking down at him with drunken eyes, intoxicated with all of these feelings coursing through his veins. Baekhyun’s eyes are still sealed as he continues to give him small pecks, the ability to get enough of him going foreign in his body.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” He finally says, holding onto the fabric of Chanyeol’s jacket and sending him a small smirk.

The taller man nods without a thought as Baekhyun grabs his wrist and leads him out of the bathroom. They get to the parking lot to take Baekhyun’s old car, and Chanyeol is actually glad that he had walked to the bar or else his car would have probably been towed.

The drive is filled with sneaky glances and an air of moderate stiffness, though it is mostly because of their unfulfilled desires. It is like a race against their own selves as the car races down the grimy asphalt in high speed; all the while a bitter feeling settles down in the pit of Chanyeol’s stomach.

They get to a small apartment in no time, and their hands get caught up in each other in what seems like a nanosecond. Chanyeol has Baekhyun against the wall as he sloppily attacks his lips, sucking on them and sticking their bodies together desperately. They wiggle over to one of the rooms, and when Chanyeol realizes that it’s a bedroom, he lets Baekhyun fall onto the bed and allows himself to collapse right on top of him.

Baekhyun jerks his pelvis up and rubs his clothed erection against Chanyeol’s own hard-on, jolting both of them into a moaning catastrophe. Chanyeol interrupts their plethora of kisses as he starts to pull at Baekhyun’s shirt to take it completely off of him. They are ravenous and before they know it, the articles of their clothing have been thrown aimlessly all around the room.

Chanyeol bites down on his neck and works his way to his chin, then swallows his mouth in another dizzying kiss. When they break for air, Chanyeol stops all of his movements to simply stare at the man below him. A voice in the back of his head feeds him a heaping of guilt and plants a seed of disgust within his chest. He shouldn’t be doing this, it is wrong and repulsive. How could he betray someone who has done him no harm? Someone whose intentions have been to give him the best he could ever have?

A hand touches his cheek and cuts through the indulging thoughts, and he blinks, actually looking at Baekhyun. “Is it your first time?” He asks softly, caressing his skin with tenderness and warmth. He must have noticed his hesitation.

“I just…” Chanyeol begins, but then fades away with the glimmering of Baekhyun’s gorgeous coffee eyes. And his radiating touch isn’t helping him at all. Succumbing, he ends up bringing Baekhyun’s hand to his lips and places a kiss onto his palm, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Baekhyun smiles and lifts himself up so that he can turn Chanyeol over onto his back and switch their positions. “Don’t worry,” He says as feathery lips re-attach themselves onto Chanyeol’s rotund ones, his fingers gliding up and down his milky white chest. The touches are light like the strokes of a paint brush, sensational and relieving.

Baekhyun slides down his neck to suck on his pink nipple, flicking it with his tongue and using his hand to gingerly play with the other one. Chanyeol is writhing beneath him as a string of moans flow out of him, and Baekhyun smirks at the noise. He moves his way down to Chanyeol’s thighs, where he places butterfly kisses on both sides while fondling his sculpted sides.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Chanyeol takes Baekhyun by the chin to slowly bring him closer, then tastes him in another blinding lip lock. He pushes him down and leans over him as their position once was, and looks at him with a speck of uncertainty before inserting a finger into his opening. A moan doesn’t shy away from Baekhyun’s mouth as Chanyeol starts to pull his finger in and out of him, eventually putting in two digits, then three, then four.

“O-Oh my g-god,” The man whimpers below him, his walls stretching to the point where it almost feels numb.

Chanyeol removes his hand and allows the man to give out a breathy sigh. Situating himself right in the middle of his legs, he slowly thrusts into him, whole and raw. Baekhyun gasps as pale eyelids cover his sight, bliss and something splitting overtaking him. For a moment, Chanyeol is still as he allows him to adjust to his size, and then he begins to move.

“Ohh. Ahhh.” Baekhyun purrs, eyes still closed and sealed tighter than before. His fingers curl around the white sheets and he jerks his head to the right, his body shuddering and shaking as he rocks his hips back and forth, in sync with Chanyeol’s paces.

A kiss lands on his forehead and brings Chanyeol back to view, and suddenly, he goes faster and harder, leading Baekhyun into a moaning and whining mess. Shallow breaths and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes throughout the room, their heart rates picking up quickly and the adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Laying his head against Baekhyun’s temple, Chanyeol reaches out to intangle their fingers together as they reach their climax, squeezing hard as the tightness is returned. When he is about to come, Chanyeol pulls out and sprays his web of strings all over Baekhyun’s hole and stomach as he arrives to his own release.

Collapsing beside Baekhyun, Chanyeol stares up at the beige ceiling. His chest heaves up and down exhaustingly, and even though he is tired as heck right now, his mental frustration is what tires him out the most.

_____________________

A flash of light shines into Chanyeol’s eyes as he comes to, his lashes fluttering and shielding him from the blinding effect. Turning away from the spark, his orbs land on Baekhyun’s peaceful face, probably dreaming about something nice and calming. He takes a second to just stare at him and look over his grown out features.

He notices that his jawline has become much more chiseled and defined, which brings attention to his long, slender neck. His hair has also changed from long auburn curls to short ebony strands. He remembers how he used to just watch him with utter fascination, and right now, it seems that the habit is catching up to him.

Six years ago this would be as good as a dream to him, and the feeling swirling around his chest represents it. He wants to move in closer and kiss that adorable button nose of his, as it was the only place that he left unkissed last night, but he stops right in front of him as he begins to ruffle awake.

Large honey orbs shift up at him and smacks a grin onto his face, “Good morning,” Chanyeol says as Baekhyun rubs his eyes with his finger, a small yawn lingering.

“Morning,” he returns raspily, “Why are you so close?”

“Oh… um,” Chanyeol hesitates, growing shy all of a sudden. “I wanted to…” Baekhyun’s relaxed expression mixed with that adorable smile of his is thrown at Chanyeol like magic, and he can’t handle it so he comes in to peck his milky white nose as he had intended to. “Do that.”

Blinking, Baekhyun’s smile broadens as a light pink tinge flourishes across his cheeks. “I’m glad I asked.”

They both chuckle and Chanyeol has to stop himself from continuing only to hear more of Baekhyun’s laugh. It is like music to his ears, the liberation and light feeling that overcomes him is incredible. People usually have favorite songs, but he has just found his favorite sound, as cheesy as that may sound.

“Breakfast?” He proposes, but Baekhyun shakes his head.

“Not really hungry, can we just lay here for a bit? I like being besides you,” he admits sheepishly, and Chanyeol feels his heart beat faster.

“I like that idea better,” he eventually says, placing his hand gently on his cheek and jawline to lightly graze his messy strands, eyes oozing with warmth. They stay this way for quite some time, just staring at each other in wonder and tranquility. It’s been a long time since he’s had anything tranquil in his life, so this feels unbelievably pleasing to Chanyeol.

“So, what do you do?” Baekhyun asks, breaking the silence.

Chanyeol blinks, head slightly tilting to readjust. “As in for a living?”

Baekhyun nods and brings Chanyeol back to the cold reality, the one where it’s not just them two in a separate bedroom, away from life and it’s inconveniences. “I run Park Enterprises.”

The answer brings Baekhyun to a period of incredulity, “Wow, that’s amazing. But you're into acting too?”

“Originally I had my mind set on acting only, but my dad became sick and I’m his only son, so naturally, I had to take over the company.”

Baekhyun frowns at this, dimples fading away. “That sucks… but at least you’re finally doing what you want.”

Chanyeol releases a sigh, “We’ll see about that. But enough of me, what about you? Have you been auditioning while working at the bar?”

“Yeah, there’s not much to me besides that, though. I haven’t gotten a gig besides a few commercials yet, but I’m still trying to better my acting through that class.”

Chanyeol hums and continues to stroke Baekhyun’s hair, not into the whole real life talk, though he never really was anyway. Baekhyun moves away, though, and tries to sit up. That’s when the pain of last night’s activities strikes back to attack him, and he must let out a gasp mixed with a groan at the suddenness. Chanyeol also sits up, but in alarm, and places on hand on Baekhyun’s upper arm and the other around the small of his back.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned.

Baekhyun sighs heavily and brings the sheet up to his chest, “Yeah, but I’m hungry.”

Chanyeol laughs breathily at that and kisses his temple before speaking, “Alright, what do you feel like eating?”

______________________

Chanyeol often ponders: is it possible to feel like you��ve known someone all of your life even though it’s only been a couple of days (regardless of the years of observations?) Learning more and more about Baekhyun and his simple ways of living seems to have answered that speculation. It’s fascinating to him no matter what the hidden detail is, whether it be something surprising like how he prefers his coffee with a dash of sea salt and maple syrup, or something simple like his love and admiration for Ed Sheeran.

It has been amazing to get to know him, Chanyeol must admit, but recently all he’s been doing is researching for photographers and a band for the wedding under the command of his mother. Needless to say, it has made his depression come back ten times harder than before.

“Chanyeol, focus! There’s only two more weeks until the wedding and we don’t even have a photographer yet. Can you stop dozing off?” Minju’s sharp voice snaps him awake for the twelfth time that day, but can you blame him? He’s been up all night with not only Minju’s complaints, but his sister’s whines of how poor the photography business is doing. It was an annoying way to drift off to sleep.

“I’m sorry, but all this wedding stuff is tiring me out. Haven’t you had enough of this?”

Throwing her long caramel hair behind her shoulder, Minju continues to type away on the laptop, speaking to him without so much as a glance. “If I had the choice to take a ten hour power nap, then trust me, I would. But there’s so much to get done!”

She is certainly feeling that wedding stress Chanyeol has heard about, and he feels guilty for not sharing the same concern as her. On the table, his phone begins to vibrate and tears through his thoughts. A smirk reaches his lips as he reads the caller ID and he excuses himself to hear the voice that he’s missed hearing for over the past week. He accepts the call upon stepping out on the front porch.

“Hel–” Chanyeol tries to say, but the panic-stricken voice of Baekhyun ushers in before he can even finish the short word.

“C-Chanyeol! H-Help me, p-please!” His ragged tone makes it through and blows into his ears like wildfire, starting up his pulse to maximum speed.

“Baekhyun, what’s going on? Where are you?” His hand squeezes the metal bars of the baluster, hard and tight.

“I-I don’t know. Ch-Chanyeol, please! I-I d-don’t know what to do!” He is crying hysterically as the depthness of his uneven breathing increases, and Chanyeol is a mess as his limbs start to shake, fear and anxiety eating him up.

“L-Look around for road signs, anything that can tell me where you are!” He is the one now stuttering, eyes bloodshot and palm bleeding as he practically bends the iron bar with his hand.

“U-Uh...T-Two f-four three Hudson–” A speedy shuffling noise is heard combined with a strangled scream, and as Chanyeol shouts into the phone to ask if Baekhyun is okay, the line cuts off into a beeping horror.

“Baekhyun! Damn it!” Moving quickly, Chanyeol darts for his car in the driveway and zooms out and onto the street like lightening. He types in whatever he can into the GPS of 243 Hudson and if it’s even possible, he accelerates more when he receives the coordinates to the closest result– 243 Hudson Baker Avenue.

He breaks all of the trafficking laws in the book out of his haste and arrives at a dark alleyway in a total of seven minutes, hands shaking and legs even more so. When he get’s out of the car, his neck is on the brink of dislocating at how much he twists and turns for any signs of Baekhyun, and eventually, he spots an open door with bright lights shooting out of it.

Taking whatever he’s got, he hurries in and finds a series of rooms on each side of the wall, and then stairs at the end of the long hallway. Opening each door that comes his way, he finds people all over each other, kissing and stripping themselves of their clothes. As if he wasn’t alarmed enough, he dashes up the stairs and repeats the procedure until he finally finds the right room. However, that doesn’t mean he’s relieved at what he’s seeing.

A man is pinning Baekhyun down against the ground as he squirms and tries to fight him off, hot tears racing down his petrified face. Eyes widening, Chanyeol acts fast and runs over to throw the man off of him. When he crashes into the closet cabinet behind him, Chanyeol recognizes him as that jerk from the bar a few weeks ago. Teeth gritting, he doesn’t miss a beat and delivers a round of punches and kicks until the weasel is knocked out cold.

He kneels down by Baekhyun’s shivering body and holds him in his arms, looking over every inch of his body frantically. He is crying like no tomorrow, but Chanyeol is there to grant him safety as he wipes the droplets away.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he says comfortingly, pulling the weeping man into his embrace. He allows him to let it out, but not to the extent of burning his throat. After a few moments of basically cradling him, he tenderly takes him out to look him in the face and caresses his cheeks, all concern and worry.

“Let’s get out of here, hmm?” Coming in to place a warm kiss onto his forehead, he lingers and feels the tightening of Baekhyun’s fingers loosen as he calms down. “Can you get up?”

Baekhyun nods subtly and tries to stand up, but he almost falls back down from the trembling of his legs. Chanyeol grasps onto his arm to help him stay upright, though, and guides him out of this spine-chilling place.

They make it to his car without any disturbances, thankfully, and swiftly depart. Chanyeol decides to go back to Baekhyun’s apartment, since his house is certainly not an option.

When they get there, Chanyeol helps him unwind and relax to the best of his abilities, regardless of the despondency that Baekhyun gives him. He helps him change out his clothes as he is still terribly shaken up, and runs a warm bath for him.

He starts with his ripped up dress shirt and muddy jeans, then slips off his boxers and white, sleeveless undershirt. Baekhyun holds onto the side of his jacket before anything else, and their eyes connect.

“Can... you go in with me?” He asks frightfully, almost childlike. And it truly breaks Chanyeol’s heart, immensely.

Placing his hands onto his shoulders lightly, he rubs the flesh and bones with his thumbs, giving him some type of reassurance that he is there. “Of course, I thought that was a given?” He offers him a smile and begins to remove his own clothes before getting into the tub with him.

Baekhyun mostly stays still as Chanyeol washes his hair and gives his body a good scrub. Each movement that he imposes is done with utmost care and affection, taking his time as he runs the sponge across the smooth surface of his skin.

Baekhyun gradually becomes less stiff, and it relieves Chanyeol to some extent. Seeing him so frozen and locked is saddening, and although it is too soon, he would like to be a part of what brings him back to life.

When they are finished, Chanyeol rubs Baekhyun with a towel and makes sure to get him really dry before wrapping it around his frail shoulders. He grabs one for himself and quickly wipes himself, not as meticulously as he did with Baekhyun, and then proceeds to dress him.

Chanyeol just shrugs into his jeans and t-shirt then lays on the bed with Baekhyun, who is slack in his pajamas. He has his arms wrapped all around him, keeping him close inside his chest.

Bending his head over to his ear, Chanyeol speaks hushly, “You feeling better?”

The man nods and snuggles deeper into his scent of fresh cologne, which he inhales and savers as it cleanses his system. “Yeah, thanks to you,” Baekhyun says sincerely, tilting his head up to glance at him.

Chanyeol meets him there and plants a sweet, delicate kiss on his feathery lips. “Anything for you, baby boy.” He presses another peck onto his damp locks and sinks further into the bed. “Now get some sleep, alright?” Chanyeol slides his hand up and down his back soothingly, driving Baekhyun into a hollow of greenery and celestial tunes.

They wake up at the same time when morning comes and lay there with their eyes glued onto each other, just soaking one another in. Chanyeol has his fingers buried into the sprawl of Baekhyun’s inky hair. He runs the digits through the silkiness in a slow, fond manner and slides in to kiss the tip of his squishy nose.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Chanyeol’s guttural voice emits, truthful and lighthearted.

“Only everyday,” Baekhyun replies, grinning. “But have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

Chanyeol would like to tell him all of the reasons as to why he’s the complete and utter opposite of amazing, but Baekhyun is smiling and taking that away is not, and will never be, something he would ever intend to do.

This time, it is Baekhyun who comes in to steal a kiss, but rather than a peck, it is long and lasting; merry and blissful; passionate and loving. Chanyeol draws his body even closer and envelopes him whole, ligaments touching and rubbing like static electricity.

They stay in this proximity as they slide their lips away, moving their heads up and down so their noses are sliding off of each other, eyes closed in bliss. Leave it to Baekhyun’s stomach to splatter the moment, though, as it growls for some much needed breakfast.

He presses his lips together, but doesn’t shy away from breaking into a smile while Chanyeol lets out a hearty laugh. “Let’s get you something to eat before your stomach comes to life.”

Baekhyun returns the laugh with just as much glee and kisses him one last time before getting up. He is already in a better state than yesterday, and Chanyeol declares it the best way to start off his morning.

Both of them are too lazy to bother with preparing anything today, so they opt for the nearest eatery in town. Chanyeol drives them in his altima and they get there in record time, much to Baekhyun’s satisfaction. They enter hand-in-hand with irremovable gleam and twinkle, shining the nearly empty eatery.

The restaurant is small yet snug, the size giving off a homey atmosphere. There are a total of twelve tables set in a row of velvet and gold, organized to symmetrical perfection and a mixture of sweet smells hanging in the air, ranging from freshly made banana bread to hot gooey oatmeal cookies, which intensifies their appetites even more so.

Baekhyun is about to take a seat so Chanyeol can go order for them, but before they can as so much pick a table, a woman with long, dwindling, mocha hair click-clacks her heels over to them, her marmalade shift dress reaching only to her upper thigh as her white sling bag wiggles with her steps. Her brows are closed in together as her eyes pierce, perplexed as she gives the two men a once-over.

Baekhyun feels Chanyeol’s hand falter inside his own and he shoots him a side glance, wondering who this woman exactly is.

“Well, it really is you. I thought I was seeing things,” the words sound forced as she says them, like she is holding something back.

Chanyeol remains still, pupils dilating and jaw slacking. He tries to formulate something cohesive, but he comes out with nothing, the blow overpowering anything that he can possibly say.

Baekhyun looks at him and gives his hand a squeeze, “Who is this, Chanyeol?” He asks, but receives no answer as Chanyeol looks back and forth between them, the color escaping his face.

“Yeah, why don’t you tell him who I am?” She grits her teeth and ties her hands over her chest, her hard expression telling Baekhyun that something is very wrong here, and he hates not knowing what it is.

“I… Baekhyun…” a frown overtakes Chanyeol’s face inevitably. He should have seen this coming, it had to happen at some point. He only wishes that it wasn’t now, not here, not when they are so happy.

“Looks like Chanyeol forgot how to speak, why don’t I make it easier for him?” Menacingly, she glares at Baekhyun, but not as despicably as she does at Chanyeol. “I’m Lee Minju, Chanyeol’s fiance.”

A gush of wind, that is all Baekhyun feels as the revelation smacks him right across the heart. He tilts his head up at Chanyeol and exposes him with his trembling eyes, which are pooling with salty liquid.

“Are you happy with what you’ve done you man whore? You’ve ruined a marriage!” Minju shouts at Baekhyun, and causes a tear to fall as his shoulders jump, powerless against everything that is going on around him.

Her hand comes swerving around to slap him, but Chanyeol grabs her wrist and pushes it down hardly. “That’s enough!” He shouts back, seething with fury. Minju stomps her foot down and slaps Chanyeol instead, expression hard and tight.

“I’ll tell you when it’s enough!” That is her last bawl, penetrating into not only the ears of Baekhyun and Chanyeol, but the restaurant owner and the few customers there. She stomps away with enraged fuel in her steps, after casting the attention all over them.

Chanyeol turns to Baekhyun and tries to hold his shoulders and explain himself, but Baekhyun shakes at his touch and immediately backs away, salt staining his pale complexion. He gives him a look of agony and anguish, the heart wrenching feeling that is jabbing him all around his stomach and chest ready to take his life.

Shaking his head, Baekhyun pushes past him and makes for the door. He would run, but he can’t even feel his legs. Heartbreak, it is a poison without the work of consumption. Though Baekhyun would beg to differ, because he drank this love like Brandy and only saw spectacular motions, but the poison was there the whole time, ready to release venom into his veins.

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