#fingers c r o s s e d that the intern actually does some work tomorrow morning else i can’t go home at night :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

echo-of-sounds · 4 years

Text

smut alphabet - aizawa shouta

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He won’t instantly fall asleep, especially after particularly rough sex. He’s a grown man who understands how important it is to check in with each other and make sure you’re both okay. Even if you say you’re fine, he still looks over your body. He knows pain feels good in the moment but afterward you realize how sore your cheek and jaw is and how much that scratch actually hurts. If you need help, he’ll help. And when you’re both settled, he’ll cuddle you, unwinding for some sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn’t like admitting how much he loves it when you focus on his neck. Since it’s usually hidden behind his scarf and hair, it’s perfect for you to go wild on the skin, sucking and biting as hard as you want. It’s where he’s the most sensitive too. You’ll pull away to red marks and a heavy flush.

Your lips catch his attention. He likes seeing them swollen- loves seeing them wet and wrapped around his cock. And your facial expressions urge him to go faster and harder. He may also have a thing for your hair but that’s just because he loves pulling on it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s on the salty side. He doesn’t expect you to swallow. He knows it’s not the best taste out there. However, when a highly dominant mood strikes, he’ll finish by holding your head down so he can cum directly into your throat. The sounds you make are beyond satisfying.

He uses a condom most of the time. Kids aren’t off the table for him. Maybe in the future. His life is a little too hectic for any babies right now.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He got a blowjob in an alleyway when he first started night patrols. He can’t remember their name and won’t tell anyone. Ever. Definitely not his proudest hookup.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He hasn’t had the number of partners as some people have, but he knows what he’s doing. Some of his experience is from the very few relationships he’s had and some were from one night stands. He’s confident in his skills but also realizes everyone’s different. So if he’s ever unsure of how you’re feeling or reacting, he will ask. Because if you’re uncomfortable then he needs to learn about and change what he’s doing wrong.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It’s natural for him to take on the more active role. Whether it’s him being completely over you, not allowing you to move at all, or the numerous doggy style positions he can choose from. He just likes feeling in control. When you’re under him, he uses his weight to his advantage, putting his hands on your back, letting himself drop heavy and deep every thrust.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not at all. He’s quiet, focusing on actions rather than words. If you make a joke, he won’t react and flip you onto your stomach, thrusting harder than before so you’re left moaning with no room to talk.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s dark, matching the hair on his head. He won’t shave. He finds it odd that people get grossed out or put off by hair down there. Like, it’s just hair? Everyone has it. He doesn’t trim that much either. He won’t bother with any maintenance when he’s not in a relationship or regularly having sex. Once in one, he’ll trim it every now and then.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Don’t expect gushing compliments and rose petals leading to the bed. Because he doesn’t talk and isn’t romantically inclined, there is a lack of intimacy during sex. However, you can feel it after. He’s not the best with words so his affection is displayed through his hands and hugs. He’ll hold you close as you calm down from your high, caressing your entire body, kissing your forehead. If you compliment him he must just blush.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He mostly does it late at night or really early morning while everyone else is sleeping. Once he moved to the dorms, he masturbates less from the combination of where he is and the amount of stress he has. When there’s no other way to relieve the stress or thoughts, he’ll do it- completely and utterly silent.

Porn comes and goes. Sometimes he’s fine jacking off without it. Sometimes he needs a little help. He watches what matches his mood. It’s usually rough and hard scenarios.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Rough sex is a given. It’s just his character so it often happens without him realizing or planning on it. Of course, he won’t cause you pain until you have a conversation about what you like and your limits. He’s willing to choke, spank, bite, slap, pull your hair, and spit in your mouth. Whatever you need, he can do.

He likes being called daddy or, if you prefer, sir. It satisfies his natural dominance and will change how hard he’s thrusting. At the same time, it’s not his favorite kink. He doesn’t need you gasping daddy to enjoy himself and he can still be as rough as you want him to.

He partakes in this one less than the others, but he likes orgasm control. And not only on you. When you suck him, bringing him to the brink, then pull away, he’ll feign annoyance while secretly enjoying being under your care. He’s often the leader so feeling you tease and control him lets him let go. He also enjoys watching you go down on him for so long.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

When he’s in the mood for rough sex, he prefers the bed. It’s comfortable for both of you. He truly doesn’t care besides that. He’ll take you on the counter, the floor, the couch, wherever. It all depends on when and how hard the mood hits him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Frustration is a big internal motivator. He gets to work off all his stress and feel good and make you feel good. It’s a win-win.

Kiss his neck slowly. He’ll relax, leaning into your lips, turning his head to the side so you have more space to kiss. Whisper how much you want him- how good he makes you feel. Listening to your desires gets him hard faster than most things.

He also enjoys cute clothing. Thigh highs are his favorite.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He can’t do anything relating to schoolgirl kinks. He doesn’t want to see you in a schoolgirl uniform. He doesn’t want to be called sensei. Not only will he never be able to look at his students again, but he also hates hearing and seeing those things while he’s supposed to be turned on. He’s a teacher and that’s one line he simply cannot cross.

He won’t use his scarf in the bedroom. That thing has been wrapped around horrible people and he limits it to that. He doesn’t want something so dirty touching you, especially in the bedroom. If you really want to be tied up, he’ll buy expensive rope for you and only you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving and loves sloppy blowjobs. Hearing you slurp on his cock with drool lathering him, dripping from your hands, is the best way to make him cum quickly. As he gets closer, he’ll grab your head, making you take him deeper. If you want to hear him be the most vocal he could ever be, lay on the bed, hang your head off the edge, and let him throat fuck you. He uses his whole body as he thrusts past the back of your throat.

But he isn’t selfish. He has no problem returning the favor. His fingers are firm and his scruff is harsh (in a good way). He’ll tie his hair back and lay between your legs for two beautiful orgasms.

Sometimes he favors oral sex over anything else. It’s easier.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most of the time he’s fast, rough, and hard. He saves any pent up frustration for his workouts or, more preferably, you. It keeps him going longer and harder.

Those mornings when you’re both hardly awake, he’ll snuggle up behind you, making his erection blatantly obvious. Early morning sex is one of the few times he slows down. The other time is when you have comfort sex. If you or he had an emotional day, he’ll let up and drag out your time together. He’s softer during those times.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s fine with them. You can’t lay in bed and enjoy each other every time you have sex so he’ll opt to push you over the table, drop your pants, and take you fast. And sometimes, he just gets so inexplicably horny that he wants you then and there.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s fine with experimenting. He’s pretty open about what he does and doesn’t like and wants you to be open as well. He’ll try a certain kink or position or toy a few times before deciding if he likes it. Risks, on the other hand, aren’t something he’s willing to do. Being a Pro Hero means you have standards to uphold and he won’t risk jeopardizing any of it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

One round is his standard. He isn’t All Might Superman. He’s tired and sex takes the last bit of energy out of him, mainly because he goes so hard during it. He usually lasts for thirty minutes but if he’s feeling up to it, he can hold himself back for longer.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own much and they’re for his partner, not him- a cute handcuff/collar/leash set and a small vibrator. When he finds himself in a relationship that he believes will last, he’ll start to build a small collection. He wants to watch you struggling from the vibrating butt plug while you're blindfolded and bound by expensive silk ropes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases all the time. His fingers will press right where you want them but leave a second later. He’ll rub your entrance until you beg for it. He won’t let you touch yourself no matter how much you plead.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Instinctively silent. He quiets any pant or huff before they can form. To get him groaning, focus your mouth on his neck, and dig your nails into his skin, deeply. He’ll begin to let himself groan and moan when he’s with someone he truly loves and someplace he knows is safe.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t do self-care as well as he should. His lips are often chapped and he could learn how to use lotion (even just a tiny bit would do wonders). When he gets out of the shower, hand him a bottle of lotion. He’ll toss it aside. Apply it to his back and arms for him and he’ll fall asleep under your hands.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Around 5 ½ inches. Not the biggest but with his intensity, it’ll seem so much bigger. His head isn’t that sensitive hence why he likes deepthroating- more stimulation on his entire length.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It can vary from week to week. It’s usually pretty normal- about three times a week.

He does have a lot of responsibilities so that takes him away from you and he is often overworked so that leads to his sex drive lowering. And even if he does want sex when he’s so stressed, he’s just too tired to actually do it. That’s the best time to give him a blowjob. He can lay back and relax while you take care of him. He’ll appreciate so much he’ll be openly affectionate with his words.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s tired after but won’t fall asleep. He needs to make sure you’re okay before he can begin to relax. Though once everything’s settled and he lays down, he’s out like a light.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa smut #aizawa headcanons #smut alphabet #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha #bnha aizawa

2K notes · View notes

firemblem-fics · 4 years

Text

SFW alphabet. | felix

-> Pairing: Felix x GN!Reader

-> Warnings: None

-> Genre: Fluff, Headcanons

-> A/N: i felt bad for spamming y’all with all kinds of asks and apparently drama or whatever the hell happened earlier so i decided to try my hand at the sfw alphabet, for felix since y’all go batshit feral for him. if all goes well, i may open up requests for them for my 1.2k special. but i def wouldn’t do the entire alfabit for one character this took me so long. also i’m at 1145 tho y’all so don’t request anything please-

warning, long post.

A -> Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they give affection?)

felix really isn’t that affectionate, even after being in a relationship for a long time. he prefers to show his love through acts of service like me but the occasional hug and kiss is never unwanted

if felix does give affection, it’s small and subtle. holding your pinky as you walk through the monastery halls, resting his hand on your thigh underneath the dining table, those kinds of things. even if you’re cuddling at night, it’s the small circles he rubs into your back and the gentle kisses he peppers on your forehead.

B -> Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

you would 100% be the person to start it. felix would quite literally never do it. he wasn’t even sure that what he was feeling was romantic until you confessed to him and his heart leaped ten feet in the air

it starts slowly- you’re felix’s first relationship. he’s afraid to mess things up, so he’s going to test the waters and move at a pace that both you and he are comfortable with

C -> Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

like the affection hc, felix isn’t a big cuddler. it’s rare for him to initiate, and he only will after a long day. at night, while he’s asleep, he may unconsciously wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer, but often times cuddling just involves an arm around you as the two of you sit in the knights hall

D -> Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?)

felix never really considered his future before he met you. he wants to settle down with you, trust me, but it’s not really the biggest thing on his mind at the moment. after the war and after the dust has settled and life is back in order, he’ll consider it

felix does his fair share of housework. he believes that in relationships, you do equal amounts and he will always do his part. even if it takes him a while to learn how to cook

E -> Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

unfortunately, felix would be extremely cold to you. chances are, he broke things off because he feels like he’s a danger to you or is afraid of not being able to protect you, so he breaks things off to avoid getting attached

he won’t look at you at all afterwards. he won’t talk to you, be in the same room as you, or anything. he’s all nonchalant on the outside, but is definitely hurting as much as you are on the inside

F -> Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Would they get married?)

you actually asked him this

felix is good with staying committed to you. he’s very very good at it. he only has eyes for you and it’s easy to keep trust in him because you’re honestly really surprised he agreed to even be in a relationship in the first place. not that you’re complaining ofc

marriage is a yes. he’s going to propose to you, but not now or in the near future. there’s a war to win

G -> Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

felix is afraid of hurting you. physically and emotionally. he knows that he gets angry often and it’s one of his biggest goals to never snap at you the way he does others. it’s hard to do- containing his snarky comments- but he’ll work on it for you

H -> Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

his hugs are pure safety. every embrace is a silent promise that felix will always be there to protect you. the hugs strong and solid and so full of love, especially when he squeezes you a little tighter before having to let go. even he enjoys them because he gets to have you close

because he doesn’t show affection often, felix’s hugs are extra special. they happen whenever you’re reunited after a fight, or if either of you have an injury and give the other a scare. they’re a reassurance to him that you’re still there, alive and loving him

I -> I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

just like the confession, you’ve gotta say it first. felix will internally panic about messing it up or saying it at the wrong time or you not reciprocating, so he won’t say it first.

felix isn’t one for words of affirmation or affection. he’s not going to say it unless it’s in the heat of the moment

J -> Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

felix doesn’t get jealous easily. except around dimitri, but that’s another story. he trusts you to stay loyal and everyone knows that your his anyways, so he doesn’t worry. if they try anything, he’ll kill them

often, it’s just throwing insults at dimitri. he just doesn’t think that a Boar should be talking to such a perfect being such as you, but also because he’s quite aware of dimitri’s attractiveness and sometimes feels a little intimidated in the looks department. but he’ll never tell you that.

K -> Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

passionate. loving. full of emotion. every time felix kisses you, there’s just this flowing warmth in your chest and you can never stop the grin from etching itself on your face. felix isn’t as stingy with kisses as he is hugs and such, giving small pecks to you as greetings and goodbyes, or just little rewards throughout the day for a good day training or something

felix likes to kiss you on your forehead. he does it every time he’s got you wrapped up in an embrace, as if placing a little promise on your head that he will always love you.

he’s a traditional man, though. he wants to be kissed on the lips. he’ll never ever ever get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, sending sparks through his body every time.

L -> Little Ones (How are they around children?)

felix is so incredibly awkward. children love him to death, often flocking around him to hear tales of fights or just to watch him train, their little mouths slackjawed in awe as they aspired to be like him when they grew up

he never knows what to do when one clings themselves to his leg in a hello hug. the angel on his shoulder says to allow it, but the devil on the other side says to punt the kid across the courtyard. luckily he’s got enough self control to not.

M -> Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

felix is an early bird, much to your dismay. he wakes up at the crack of dawn to train before breakfast, but he always gives you a kiss goodbye and makes sure that you’re comfy and happy before leaving

on the mornings that you convince him to stay in for a while, which is rare, he doesn’t fall back asleep. instead, he just watches you as you doze off again, holding you close to him. he’s much softer when you’re not awake enough to tease him

N -> Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

felix lays on his back and you curl into his side, laying your head against his bare chest. silently, you trace your fingers against the scars on his torso and he writes sweet nothings on the skin of your arm, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

O -> Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

felix would never fully open himself up really. it’s just you being able to remember things that he did tell you and piecing them together. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you enough to tell you, it’s just that he’s not one to talk about things. you respect that, of course.

P -> Patience (How easily angered are they?)

as we all know, felix is quick to anger. he still is with others, but he’s really working on it when it comes to you. sometimes, he just gets worried about your well-being and his anxiety shows itself through anger, so small arguments often happen when you’re reckless or not taking care of yourself

he’s trying super hard to work on his communication skills so that he never upsets you with his outbursts again. he has his slip ups, but now that he’s able to verbally apologize, things get solved quicker.

Q -> Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

felix remembers everything, even if he doesn’t show it. he may seem extremely uninterested in the necklace you pointed out at the market after you dragged him shopping, but he’s making a mental note to come back later that day and buy it for you

R -> Remember (What’s their favorite moment in your relationship?)

felix’s favorite moment was when you first met his father. as rude as he is to his dad, he genuinely cares about him and his opinions. his father absolutely adored you and immediately told felix that you were the one. he agreed.

S -> Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

it’s felix. hes protective. there’s a line to be crossed between protective and possessive and he just barely tip toes that line. he’d destroy anyone who bothered you if you asked

on the other hand, felix doesn’t like to actually be protected. it makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so he’d prefer it if you weren’t too overbearing with it. he does think it’s hot if you get protective over him when it comes to some girl flirting with him though

T -> Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, etc?)

it depends on what your preferences are. if you’re okay with laid back dates and casual things, then he would be too. if you liked more grandeur, he’d try his hardest to make it perfect. goddess forbid anyone see him doing it, though

U -> Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

closing himself off. felix isn’t used to being vulnerable or open with people. hes been through copious amounts of trauma that he can’t just get over in a day, so there are still bad days where he’s not going to want to talk about his feelings or talk to anyone at all. it’s best to just let him train that day and bring him his meals. he’ll eat them, and will be super grateful that you’re still there for him, even if it’s just for a second to bring food.

V -> Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

felix does not care about this at all. he’s usually an advocate of the “fuck what other people think” mentality, even if he’s not too good at following it himself, and that’s going to carry into your relationship. he loves you for yourself, no matter what

W -> Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

felix would tell himself that he’d be fine with or without an s/o, but he does feel a little empty when you’re not around. the days that you two may have to spend apart due to busy schedules mean that those nights are a little more tender than usual

X -> Xtra (A random headcanon of them.)

felix’s ideal date isn’t training, like people say it would be. yeah, it’s nice to train with you, but if you don’t want that to be a date then it won’t be. he’d much rather just a chill day where the two of you are curled up on a couch or in the bed, talking and eating snacks or reading in silence

Y -> Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or with a partner?)

felix wouldn’t like someone who’s nosy or pushy. he’s got a lot of boundaries and it’s a big deal to him when they’re crossed. he wants to be able to talk and be comfortable on his own time, not someone else’s. please be patient with him.

Z -> Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

felix is a kicker. you don’t know if it’s just his insanely acute battle instincts trying to get someone out of his bed or what, but you once woke up with a huge bruise on your calf from his heel. you didn’t tell him that he kicked you, though, because then he’d feel bad

this doesn’t really change at first, but the longer the two of you sleep together the less severe the kicks become. other than the occasional horse kick that nearly knocks you off the bed.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #headcanons #felix #felix x reader #felix fraldarius #felix hugo fraldarius x reader #felix hugo fraldarius #felix fraldarius x reader #felix fraldarius imagines #lay writes #sfw alphabet

207 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1111

Something a little bit random and silly for my 1111th, just because.

survey by joybucket

List three things you love that start with each letter.

A: Art and most forms of it; anchovies, in most cases; and Angela.

B: Burgers, Beyoncé, and buffets.

E: Escargot, the name Eloise, and elephants.

F: FISH, Friends, and some folk indie.

S: Sleeping, signing off work at the end of my shift, and all kinds of seafood.

T: I’m obsessed with tteokbokki; trying out new food; and table tennis.

Q: I like the quiet time I occasionally give myself; quail eggs, especially in the form of kwek-kwek; and quattro formaggi pizza.

R: Rainbows, the rain, and riding planes.

O: Old movies, the ocean, and Okinawa milk tea.

List a phrase including an adjective, noun, and verb for each letter. Examples: "angry artist anticipating", "rude rascals running", "dirty dogs dancing", or "empty elephants eloping." Have fun!

A: Adorable animals appearing.

F: Fabulous fingers frolicking.

C; Chummy classmates cooking.

S: Suspicious self salivating.

R: Rambunctious raccoon running.

T: Tired turnip tumbling.

Q; Questioning quail quipping.

J: Joyful joggers jamming.

I: Inquisitive igloos imagining.

L: Luxurious lemonade luminescing.

Z: Zesty zebras zoning out.

E: Ethereal eagles embracing.

List three different occupations starting with each letter.

O: Orthodontist, oceanographer, opthalmologist.

E: Engineer, equestrienne, elementary school teacher.

F: Firefighter, flight attendant, farmer.

S: Scientist, singer, seamstress.

T: Talent agent, tricycle driver, tennis player.

I: Illustrator, inspector, IT technician.

E: Economist, editor, electrician.

L: Lawyer, librarian, lifeguard.

A: Accountant, actor, architect.

Y: Yoga instructor, youth pastor, yogurt maker?? if that counts, lol. Otherwise I got nothing else.

List three adjectives that begin with each letter.

A: Affable, abrupt, adequate.

B: Broken, blunt, bleary.

C: Crazy, clear, clingy.

D: Daunting, delirious, dark.

E: Existential, enraged, exemplary.

F: Fantastic, far-flung, flavorful.

G: Ghastly, gentle, gigantic.

H: Harrowing, healthy, hopeful.

I: Intelligent, identical, impervious.

J: Jovial, jaded, joyous.

List three nouns that being with each letter.

K: Kangaroo, keychain, kiwi.

L: Lemonade the album, lemon the fruit, and Liz Lemon.

M: Mall, maple syrup, and mop.

N: Nightingale, nest, napkin.

O: Ogre, olive, orange.

P: Piano, panini, and pizza.

Q: Queen, quill, quilt.

List three verbs that begin with each letter.

R: Running, raking, reliving.

S: Singing, sailing, surfing.

T: Tricking, tossing, teeming.

U: Understanding, urging, unwrapping.

V: Villifying, venerating, vaccinating - get vaccinated, folks.

W: Wandering, washing, wriggling.

X: I don’t know if there are any and I can’t bother to look it up.

Y: Yawning, yelling, yearning.

Z: Zipping, ziplining, zapping.

List three...

girl's names you love: Olivia, Mia, Emma.

boy’s names you love: Mason, Jacob, Lucas.

girl’s names you dislike: Karen, and our local versions of Karen, Marites and Marivic.

boy’s names you dislike: Chad, times three.

things you hate about summer things you hate about winter things you hate about spring things you hate about fall things you love about spring things you love about winter things you love about fall things you love about summer Crossing these out because my Southeast Asian ass can’t relate, but if you do decide to take this survey feel free to un-strikethrough them!

things you miss from your past: Having more freedom to make mistakes; not having to worry about the future; and friends I’ve since lost.

people who have really hurt you in the past: Gabie, my mom, Marielle.

names of people you have had crushes on: Gabie, Andi from 5th grade...and that’s it, really.

names of people you have gone on a date with: Only Gabie. And I guess maybe Mike? Since he asked me to go with him to his ball as his date.

places you've been and would love to go again: Sagada, Jeju, Bali.

places you want to visit before you die: Morocco, Spain, Thailand.

items on your bucket list: See Times Square, live in a condo, plan a solo trip.

health conditions you have: Scoliosis, lactose intolerance, and very possible depression.

health conditions you've had in the past but don't anymore: Dehydration, UTI, and some kind of weird low-platelet-count thing that was just that, and never diagnosed as anything.

things you are allergic to: Possibly some types of grass, and maybe face masks. Idk how to confirm it really; I just know my skin gets irritated around them sometimes.

youtube channels you love to watch: Good Mythical Morning; the KBS YouTube channel mainly for clips of Return of Superman and 2 Days 1 Night; and Binging With Babish.

favorite drinks: Water, coffee, Long Island Iced Tea.

favorite foods: Sushi, chicken wings, pizza.

favorite desserts: Cheesecake, MACARONS, cupcakes.

favorite holidays: The only one I care for and get super excited about is my birthday, if that counts. Christmas is fine, but I only get the excitement for it on the actual day itself.

favorite colors: Pastel pink, white, maroon.

people you would like to meet: Ysa and Bea, my teammates at work. I’ve met them only once before, and I wish we can be allowed to report to the workplace physically soon so that I get to see them more often and strengthen my relationship (both working and personal) with them. I’d also love to be able to chat and chill with Hayley Williams even for just 30 seconds.

people you want to meet in Heaven: I don’t believe in that, but I’d love to have met my great-grandfather on my maternal grandfather’s side. Also, Audrey Hepburn and Princess Diana.

good names for a dog or cat: Depends on their personality.

reasons why you get up each morning and keep on living: Because I’ve been able to see myself get better, and why stop all the progress?; because I’d want to be able see if the future will get better; and because I’m afraid of what will happen to/who will look out for my dogs if I’m suddenly gone.

For each name, think of three people you know with that name, and list their occupations.

Amanda: I only know one Amanda, and she’s a friend of my ex’s younger sister. She’s only in senior year of high school. I know an Amandine which is close enough I suppose?? and she’s a dentistry student.

Sarah: She’s a media contact and I’m constantly in touch with; she’s the editor-in-chief of a local magazine. I think she’s the only Sarah I know.

Ashley: Also a media contact. I’m not sure about her title, though.

Beth: @bionic-beth is a teacher! :) But I don’t know any Beths in real life, I think.

Katie: Well I know Kate, and I’ll sometimes playfully call her Katie. She works in a government agency and she’s one of their PR people. The HR person who recruited me to come work at my current employer is a Kate, but I have never and have no plans to call her Katie.

Matt: That’s too foreign-sounding a name where I live.

Emily: Don’t know any Emilys, either.

Chris: Media contacts. They run blogs or news sites of their own.

Mike/Michael: The one Mike I know is currently a med student. Not sure if he’s working on the side - I think he is, since I saw him post about a job update on his Facebook a few months ago; but I can no longer remember what he does, or if he’s still doing it.

Jessica: I went to high school with a girl named Jessica but I don’t follow her on social media, so I have no clue what she’s up to now.

Becca/Bekah: Rita’s sister is a Becca. I think she is currently a grad student.

For each name, think of three people you know, and list one adjective to describe each person. (Skip if you don't know anyone with that name.)

Laura

Michelle: Hilarious.

Victoria: Strong.

Tessa: Friendly.

John

Claire: Influential; motherly.

Briana/Brianna: Bitch.

Vanessa

Brittany/Britney, etc.

Allison/Allie/Ally, etc: Kind.

Olivia

Jordan

Jo/Joe: Ambitious; pretty.

Corey/Kori

Sophie: Sweet; quiet.

Mitch/Mitchell: Tall.

Madison/Maddie/Maddi

Out of all the people you know or have met, list three...

redheads: Yeah, you’re not going to find them in most of Asia. West Asia and some parts of East Asia, probably, but definitely not for the rest.

tall people: Jo, Chesca, and Shaun.

people with really curly hair: I know Kleo has naturally curly hair from her Aeta roots, but it’s been straightened for a very long time now. I think Chesca also has curly hair, albeit slightly. There is also Liana.

sets of twins: My sister had two sets of twins in her high school batch, but I can no longer remember their names. I also had an English class with a pair of twins named Ardy and Thirdy.

of the cutest babies you've seen on social media: My workmate’s baby. My friend Jar has a super squishy niece/nephew pair of twins as well.

people you miss: Angela, Kate, my grandpa.

people with beautiful eyes: I can only think of my ex.

people with nice hair: God I have not been around people for so long, I can barely think of anyone for this.

people who are the same height as you: Aya, Hannah, Tina.

own one of the same clothing items as you: Angela since we went to the same high school and have several of the same school shirts; Laurice since we share a college org and we have our own trademark polo shirt; and my brother and I have our own pairs of Nike Cortez shoes.

make you laugh: Andi, Hans, and this girl I had a couple of history classes with, Rose.

List three celebrities who...

are the same height as you: Lady Gaga and AJ Lee are the only ones who are coming to mind. I wouldn’t call AJ a celebrity though.

have the same hair color as you: Mila Kunis, Kelly Rowland, Dita Von Teese.

look like you: Only based on comments I’ve gotten in the past and not because I necessarily claim these for myself, Lucy Hale, Anna Akana, and Kakie.

List three....

adjectives to describe you: Timid, stubborn, sensitive.

academic courses you enjoyed: Philippine social history, international relations, anthropology.

words you always forget how to spell: Rhythm, committee, accommodate.

things you wish you were better at: Singing, dancing, drawing.

things you are really good at: Writing, reading people, and knowing the best things to order at most restaurants hahahah.

jobs you'd like to have: Ideally, a lawyer or doctor. But realistically, I’d love to have a leadership position in the PR sphere.

jobs you've considered having: ^ Again, lawyer and doctor. Also a journalist or news anchor, back when I still thought I was passionate about journalism.

jobs you'd hate: Journalist, an LTO clerk, an assistant to an asshole celebrity.

things you miss: Being a student, many parts of the past, and deceased family members.

names your mom considered when naming you: Ariel, Kathleen, Katrina.

things people call you: Robyn, Byn, Bynbyn.

*Bonus*: what is your name? (first and middle)? I always feel like just sharing Robyn.

#survey #surveys

6 notes · View notes

himbowelsh · 4 years

Note

for the love of god joe toye valentines alphabet pls

valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Joe’s more verbally expressive than you’d expect, actually. He’s got no problem with physical affection, but he’s also not above outright saying it. He’s a straightforward guy who sometimes struggles with his own tender emotions, so hearing them out loud helps --- and he thrives on verbal affirmation from his partner, too, so it’s a give-and-get thing. “You looked great today,” or “nobody can sing like you”, things like that. Joe’s also... aggressively generous with his free time. He’ll do favors for the people he cares about before they even realize they need to be done. He’ll just do things, which is honestly easier than saying his feelings out loud, but speaks just as loudly. Any way he can take some of the burdens off his loved ones’ shoulders is good enough for him.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

He doesn’t know the first thing about flowers, but he likes them, and he tries. Always brings his Ma a real nice bouquet for special occasions, and once when his sister was in the hospital he got the most gorgeous yellow roses... Joe’s not about to grow ‘em himself, but he knows how to pick up a good flower arrangement.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

Nah, bro. Joe’s got a weird thing about junk food. He doesn’t love it. While absolutely willing to buy it for other people, he won’t indulge himself. (He is the uncle who lets the kids run a little wild on his watch, so sometimes after spending time with Uncle Joe, his nephews come back with their faces covered in chocolate. Joe’s sisters just sideeye him.)

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Not a complicated guy. Go out drinking with him, have a good time, maybe dance a little... so long as his partner knows how to have a good time, and he’s in a place he’s comfortable in, Joe couldn’t be happier.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

His arms, man. Just... his arms. If he tried, Joe Toye could probably lift a tank. What do you think his hugs are like? (Correct answer: a religious experience.) He passionately doesn’t enjoy being hugged, especially out of the blue ---- but on rare occasions, he deals ‘em out, and they’re very worthwhile.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

He’s not bad at it. Doesn’t try especially hard, but you know when he’s trying. Joe’s a forthright guy. When he’s into someone, his voice will get lower; he’ll make excuses to get closer to them, studying them with a dark, intense gaze. If they’re out somewhere, his first move is usually to buy them a drink; while he’s not into small talk or pick-up lines, he’s good at bantering if the other person wants to play.

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Joe doesn’t give gifts. He gives... favors. Like, he’ll do shit for other people. He’ll fix a broken cabinet, but new tires on their car, or even pay someone to fix that leaky spot in their roof. If it’s something he can do himself, he’ll do it; otherwise, he’ll find someone who can. Joe’s hired plumbers for people. (The one time he tried to do his sister’s plumbing as a favor was a disaster no one’s allowed to talk about.) It’s easier than trying to figure out what someone wants, and he feels useful at the same time.

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He doesn’t give it away easily. Joe’s cautious in relationships, not rushing into anything too fast; he’s constantly wondering how his partner feels about him, and has his own undercurrents of insecurity that make giving himself to a relationship... difficult. He’s got to find someone who gets him. Joe would gradually give his heart away over the course of a long-term relationship --- but once someone’s got it, it’s theirs forever.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He... fails at it a few times. Legitimately chokes on the words. He has to take a sip of water, cause he starts coughing. It’s not that Joe isn’t confident of his own feelings, but he’s not great at saying how he feels, and second-guesses himself at the last second... he’d need to hear his partner say it first. He needs that reassurance before he can feel comfortable declaring it himself.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Not super jealous, no. When he does have those feelings on occasion, he keeps them inside. Joe won’t bring it up with them, because he’s all about internalizing those negative emotions; at worst, he might watch his partner intently across the room, brooding to himself. The only time he’ll intervene when his partner is with other people is if they’re clearly making his partner uncomfortable, or crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Joe doesn’t put up with that.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

He’s a surprisingly handsy kisser. Joe loves to be touching his partner, whether it’s a hand on the side of their face or a grip on their shoulder, pulling them closer. His favorite sort of kiss is one where he's sitting, pulling his partner down into his lap. Holding them anchors him, giving him a sense of purpose; it keeps him working hard, to feel their tiny moans of pleasure muffled against his lips. Isn’t afraid to get a little rough, but can also be heartrendingly tender. If he can cup their ass while kissing them? Fan-fucking-tastic.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

He’s very devoted to his mother; his sisters and their families have their own things going on, but Joe would drop anything for them in a heartbeat; he enjoys the company of the fellas at work, and cares for a lot of them; and, of course, his Easy Company friends are the ones who understand him best, and occupy the foremost place in his heart.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

He’s not picky. Literally no preference here. Anytime is a good time for kissing, if they’re both in the right mood.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

He’s got a lot of passion, and channels it into his every movement. While he doesn’t mean to be rough, it sometimes happens; his partner wakes up with bruises on their thighs and very fond memories of how they got there. Lots of stamina, and can keep up a consistent rhythm throughout. Heavy breathing, and occasional dirty talk in that low, raspy voice. He’s not loud, but loves a partner who is. Willing to try every position at least once, but has a real thing for feeling his partner on top of him, while he guides them along. When he reaches his peak, he tends to bury his face against his partner’s skin to muffle his groan.

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

He’s very straightforward. Not super eloquent --- it’s actually something he’s very self-conscious about --- but with Joe, he says what he means, and you know what you’re getting. When Joe wants to speak his heart, he manages.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Someone who keeps him on his toes. Someone... sexy, and energetic, with an inner warmth that reels him in and refuses to let go. Someone who looks past the surface and understands people. A non-judgemental person; a hard worker, who puts their all into everything they do; someone who takes responsibility to their family very seriously, and who’d set everything else aside to help someone in need. Not to mention, someone with a killer set of hips.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

(go down and read WEDDING first!) Okay, so he’s hesitant when it comes to marriage. Once he’s made up his mind, though? Joe Toye is all in. He’s no diamond expert, but he knows the guy at the jewelry shop, who gets him a good deal. He’s the sort of sentimental to get the inside of the band engraved with their initials, or something equally gushy; it’s a gorgeous rock, and it’ll look even better on the love of his life’s finger. Joe actually fantasizes about seeing his partner wearing his ring in the days leading up to the proposal... which he does outside of the restaurant right before their date, with a light flurry of snow beginning to fall from the sky. He wanted to propose at dinner, but it occurred to him that his partner might not want all those people around and watching, so he panicked in the doorway and dropped to his knee right there. His actual proposal is a little breathless, but so fervent, and his puppy dog eyes are in full force. If they turned him down there, his heart would definitely break.

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He’s got a sensitive heart underneath that tough coal miner’s exterior. Joe’s the sort of guy to adore a partner once he’s got one... but he’s definitely not inclined to daydreams. Joe doesn’t pretend to be anybody’s Prince Charming. His brand of romance is very down-to earth, but he definitely wants to fall in love at some point.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

Little Joe wanted a truck, not a girlfriend. He just... wanted to drive a big truck. He had a truck phase.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

He doesn’t know. Legit couldn’t answer that question if he tried. What’s the difference between true love and... just regular love? Is there a special sort of love you’re supposed to try for? How do you know if you got it, or... nope. Too much to think about, don’t bother him with it.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

... yeah. He was young then. Stupid. You won’t get him to talk about it, unless he’s well past the point of reasonably drunk.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

Slight panic. He doesn’t know what to do. Does his partner want something? Should he get them something? What? Before getting into a relationship he wasted exactly none of his energy on Valentine’s Day, and now, god help him, has no idea what to do with it.

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

It ain’t something he’s gonna rush into. Joe comes from a religious Irish family, divorce is not an option for him --- if he’s anchoring himself to one person, it’s gotta be for life. Finding the right person’s the tricky part. He tells himself he’d be find if he never ended up married (keep lying to yourself, you love-starved fool) but when he does meet someone, he’s got to give it a lot of consideration before popping the question. He’s got about a dozen fears, rejection being the biggest one, so he kind of has to talk himself into it.

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

He’s actually fond of them! Playing on somebody’s name is his favorite (he calls Luz “Georgie”, for example, and has an arsenal of nicknames for his nieces and nephews) but when it comes to his partner, his favorites are “sweetheart”, “baby”, or even “darling”, muttered just low enough for them to hear.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

Abso-freakin-lutely. The biggest misconception about Joe Toye is that he’s a violent guy. He’s not. He won’t swing unless someone gives him a damn good reason --- and seeing somebody threatening the people he cares about is the biggest reason in the book. Joe won’t start a fight. He’ll end it.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

He’s... not the Virgin Mary, by any means. If he’s out somewhere, and somebody’s being friendly... Joe’s gonna be friendly back. He’s not ashamed about it. He’s had maybe... 6 - 7 partners, but most of them have been casual flings.

#joe toye #headcanons

16 notes · View notes

maandags · 5 years

Text

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon! reader) {part iii}

something resembling peace n quiet (ish) b4 the real shitstorm yeet

---

Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Word count: 6.3K

Genre: Angst

Notes: ft witch!Coran bc he doesnt get enough love -- masterlist -- {previous} -- {next} --

---

small-town boy in a big arcade

i got addicted to a losing game

~ Arcade, Duncan Laurence

---

His fever isn't going down.

It's been five days and his fever just won't go down.

He's passed out on your couch, waking up occasionally so you can feed him and give him water to drink. Sometimes you have to shake him for minutes at a time just so he wakes up. You tried everything you knew, but the medicine you give him has no effect and the medicine you probably need is nowhere at your disposal.

It's safe to say you have no clue how to proceed and also are frustrated: you're risking everything here. You're risking being found by everything you have been outrunning for years and years. The combined auras of an angel and a demon are the closest thing to a signal flare you know.

And he just might die, and it will all have been for nothing, and you might still be located by Management and you would have to move. Quite bittersweet, you think wryly.

So Keith dying isn't an option. That much is clear. But as you sit in your armchair and glare at him, arms wrapped around the knees you pulled up to your chest, you have no idea as to how you're going to stop it from happening.

You clumsily wrapped him in a blanket when he collapsed on your couch. He's kicked it off since, and it lies in a bundle at his feet. His skin is ashy and pale and sweaty and his hair sticks to his forehead.

And his fucking fever isn't going down.

Usually you'd go straight to a doctor if any of your human friends were to contract a fever this stubborn–but you suspected bringing a dying angel to the average doctor won't do much good except frighten the poor sod to death. He looks like Death, you remark. What with his black wings and overall dark aesthetic, which is quite rare for an angel to have. You think, at least. It's not like you've met lots of them.

You sigh, filling a glass of water and holding it to his lips. He reacts almost subconsciously–he's not quite all there, but he's gulping the water down with gusto and you can only pray to the Dark Below that he'll hold it down, though that did seem to get better the last day or so.

The first two days were a nightmare. Keith tossed and turned and held nothing down, his stomach too upset. You had him spend his second night in your bathtub because he puked all over your couch. When he was asleep (which was most of the time) he had nightmares and whimpered constantly, and when he was awake he had hallucinations, his eyes clouded over. He even tried to attack you at one point ('tried' being the keyword here–he took a most pathetic swing at your face and cried when you dodged it easily).

If you had any common sense, you would have kicked him out long ago–hell, if you had any common sense, you never even would have considered taking him in.

Yet he is here. And you are here. And you don't exactly know how to feel about that.

Half the time you wish he'd just die already so you could be done at least with all of this. The next moment you feel horribly guilty and internally yell at yourself for thinking that way–because you made this choice. You decided to help him, and you should go through with it, even if it meant to be woken up at three in the morning because Keith was wailing again.

You brush your fingers across his forehead, hoping against better knowledge his fever had gone down, but he's still burning up. He's not tossing and turning anymore, he's not throwing up everywhere anymore. The last time he had a nightmare you actually noticed was more than a day ago. His breaths are shallow and irregular, and while you're no doctor, you know that's never a good sign.

You'd almost gotten used to having him in your apartment, and now you barely even notice he's here.

You've been on some extensive phone calls with Allura since Keith flopped into your life (which mostly consist of you yelling and Allura listening, occasionally muttering "go off, sis" into the horn) and you were itching for one now. You pull out your phone. Allura picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N, love, I have time for like, maybe a ten minute rant, because I'm at work and even though it's my break time my co-workers are giving me huge side-eyes and I still have four hours to go–"

"That's okay," you say quickly. "I'm fine, actually. No rants."

Allura pauses. "Sure about that?"

"Positive. I just had a question." You decide to throw in your favourite excuse whenever you have a weird question. As a nurse and your friend, Allura is often your first choice if you need to fact-check anything health-related."I'm writing this story..."

"Ah," Allura says. "Of course. Shoot."

You feel kind of bad for lying to her. But then again, telling the truth isn't really an option here, is it? "What does one do to break a fever that's been going strong for, say, five days, and literally no kind of aspirin is working and you can't take them to a doctor?"

"Huh. Well. All you can really do without, like, medical intervention, is wait, really. Yes, Jane, I'll be done in a minute. Have them sweat it out. Keep hydrated, remove excess layers of clothing, all that jazz. How high of a fever are we talking?"

"Um..." You glance at the thermometer on the coffee table. You'd taken his temperature just before calling Allura, to see if there was any change. Spoiler alert, there wasn't. "41.2 degrees Celcius."

Allura whistles. "For an adult? 'Cause if this is a kid, they have a problem."

"No, no, it's an adult."

"Okay. Well. You know, fevers aren't inherently bad for you. It's actually a way for the body to, like, kill heat-sensitive bacteria and viruses. So it's actually a good thing. Honestly I'm gonna just advise your character to stay in bed and drink water and sit in front of a fan. They should be fine."

You pucker your lips, poking Keith's arm with your toe. He doesn't move. "All right."

"You sound kind of unsure," says Allura, a tinge of concern to her voice. A pause. "Certain this is a fictional character?"

You bite back a curse. "Well. You know. I was–I was just curious."

Allura sighs. You imagine her rubbing the back of her neck as she shakes out her legs. "You know... as a medical professional–" the sarcasm drips from her voice– "I'm not really supposed to, like, recommend these types of methods to people because generally everyone thinks they're bullshit, but..." She hesitates. "My uncle Coran has this shop. He sells lots of weird, like, plants and crystals and crap like that. God, I can't believe I'm saying this. He might be able to help. Here's the address."

You lurch over to your desk and snatch a pencil and a post-it block, scribbling down the address she dictates. "Thanks, Allura."

"You are very welcome, dearest, but I really need to get back to work now. Bye."

"Bye."

You stare at the note for a while after Allura hung up. You don't exactly know the place, but a quick Google search helps you pinpoint it. It's not even that far, maybe a 20 minute walk. But something makes you feel uncomfortable about it.

He sells lots of weird, like, plants and crystals and crap like that.

It definitely sounds like something you should be a bit suspicious of. Plants and crystals. Hm.

But then again, you think as you cast another look at Keith who hasn't moved in over an hour, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, it's not like you have many other options.

Allura said to wait it out. But maybe fevers aren't as harmless on angels as they are on humans. Maybe waiting it out will kill him, and you will have to live with it knowing that you did nothing to stop it.

Grumbling through gritted teeth, you yank your jacket from its hanger, write out a quick note for Keith in case he wakes up (he probably won't, but just in case) and dash out the door.

It takes you surprisingly long to find the place.

What was a 20 minute walk turned to a 30 minute walk, then to an hour long walk. You zoom in on your phone's map, narrowing your eyes and combing through every little alley you passed, gnashing your teeth. No matter how hard you look, the shop simply doesn't seem to exist anywhere but on the map. Is this Allura's idea of a prank?

But that's not like her, you remind yourself. And somehow, the fact that you can't seem to reach the place only makes you want to find it more. So you grit your teeth and clench the note with the address (that you just can't seem to memorize, no matter how hard you try) in your fist and march on.

You round a corner and slam into a tall and lanky body.

You yelp, arms flying out to regain your balance. The person in front of you gives a surprised hum–they don't seem to be fazed at all. You look up, prepared to give them a scolding about how they've got to watch where they're fucking going and blink, all words dying in your throat.

"You okay, kiddo?" says the most eccentric-looking man you've ever seen.

"Uh..." you give your head a shake, trying not to stare at the man's bright orange hair and moustache, or the fact that he's dressed like one of those fortune tellers out of fantasy stories, complete with the huge ornate earrings and everything. "Yeah. Fine. Thanks."

The man's light eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you make a mental note to not let his appearance deceive you: you have the feeling he's much smarter than he looks. "Were you looking for something?"

You clamp your mouth shut, running a hand through your hair. "Hm. Actually. Yes." You frown, wondering if this is a good idea, but if anyone would know where Coran's shop is–the shop selling weird crystals and plants and crap like that–this dude would be it. You hold up the crumpled note. "Do you know where this place is?"

The man takes one look at the writing and smiles, a wide and slightly unhinged grin that has you almost instantly regretting your choice. "Well, I sure would hope I know where my own shop is!"

You try and resist the urge to flinch. "Oh, really?" you squeak, shrinking back. It's not a very demon-like thing to do, you think at the very back of your mind, but this guy looks like he could give even the scariest entities of the Below a run for their money. "Neat."

The man–who you assume is Coran–grins even wider and whips an arm around your shoulders. "Well, then! Let's not beat around the bush any longer!" He has an accent you can't place. It fits him, strangely. Everything about the guy is strange.

He whirls around, dragging you with him, and walks exactly three steps before slamming open the door to the shop on the corner. You frown, ducking out from under his arm and giving him a suspicious glare. "What is this? I've passed this shop at least five times." You glance up at the sign and do a double take. Where had previously hung a sad wooden board announcing a tailor's shop hangs now a weirdly pretty sign that seems to be made out of plants. Vines twisting to and fro and entwining and overlapping, fluorescent yellow-and-blue flowers you have never seen before dropping from it in clumps. It sways slightly in the air. There is no wind.

All the hairs stand up at the back of your neck and your fists clench at your sides.

"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough," comes Coran's amused voice from behind you. You spin on your heels, narrowing your eyes at him. You're not unfamiliar with these kinds of experiences–the supernatural, the unsettling, the technically-impossible–yet Coran manages to throw you off in a way nothing really has before.

The atmosphere around you has dimmed, the sole source of light the doorway and the glowing flowers dangling from the sign. You're not in the alley you were in not one minute ago anymore. Coran raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, and you notice how different he looks in this new environment. He fits here perfectly. The slight curl of his lips says, Well? What are you waiting for?

You think of Keith. How he would react if he were in this situation. If the roles were reversed and you were the one dying on his sofa. You push the door open and march into the shop.

You almost slam directly into a tree.

"Careful, careful," says Coran quickly as he grabs your elbow. He slips past you and leads you into his shop that looks like no other shop you've ever seen.

Shelves are stacked with pots and vials and little baggies, all propped one on top of the other. It looks extremely unstable. You resist the urge to pluck out one jar from the bottom and see if everything tumbles down.

Every price tag is hand-written, and when you take a closer look a chill runs down your spine. One never-before shared secret. Three childhood memories. none of the prices ask for actual money, which now seems pretty useless and weighs down the wallet in your pocket. One particular tag says Your deepest fear. How dramatic.

Every plant seems to glow, for some reason. You notice more of those fluorescent yellow-and-blue flowers like the ones hanging from the sign outside, and flowers that look similar but in different colours. There are plants that remind you of grapevines, snaking around trees and shelves and tangling themselves around every support they can find. Clusters of small transparent bells float from the branches, even smaller flicks of light trapped inside them. You squint at one of them, grabbing it out of the air and studying it closely. Something is fluttering inside of the little sphere. A firefly, maybe. Maybe. When you release it, it zips back to its original spot among the other glowing bubbles.

Coran plucks a few dead leaves from a tree stump partially hidden from view by a huge black-and-white striped candle. He grinds the leaves to dust in the palm of his hand and drops them in the candle's flame. It glows bright green for a moment, then a comforting scent begins to spread through the air. You inhale deeply out of reflex. It smells like nothing you've ever smelled before, vaguely familiar scents all mushed into one; your favourite hot chocolate (with a hint of caramel), Allura's fruity conditioner, the animal shampoo you use on the dogs at the shelter. The air when it's just stopped raining. Towels, fresh out of the dryer.

You blink yourself back to reality with a sharp jerk of your head. Coran is already moving on to the very back of the shop and you hurry to catch up with him, ducking to avoid the arms of a rather sad-looking ragdoll as they reach for you. "Hey, hey–who are you?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Coran."

"Yes, I know that, but like–" you gesture vaguely to the general space around you– "who are you?"

Coran thinks about that for a moment, one finger pressed to the side of his nose. "A hobbyist," he decides.

"Right." You take a step back, eyeing the dark and slimy substance shlorping across the floor towards your feet suspiciously. It shrinks back beneath your glare. "What are those hobbies, exactly?"

"You know," says Coran, waving his arms around, "plants. Medicine. The occasional cursed artifact. Just regular stuff like that."

"Regular stuff like that," you echo. Caws sound from above you. When you look up, you spot a bird slightly hidden in the shadows of the tree in which it is perked (was that tree this big before?), glowing red eyes fixated on yours. You raise an eyebrow at it, cocking your head. It mirrors you, feathers ruffling and swooping from one side of its head to the other. It screams again, then spreads its wings and climbs up the tree with a speed you didn't expect. Literally climbs: there are claws on the joints of its wings that it uses to hack into the tree's bark. You brush a bit of dust off your shoulder and continue walking.

Stepping over the puddle of dark slime, you follow Coran even further into the shop. "You said you do medicine," you shout after him. "I need medicine to save my–" The words hitch in your throat. What is Keith to you? An acquaintance? An enemy? A guest? "My friend," you settle on.

Coran throws you a look over his shoulder, throwing off his ornate blue coat and suspending it in the air where it floats obediently beside him. He plants a hand on a bony hip. "Your friend," he repeats, a glint in his eyes you don't trust at all.

"Yeah." He's not getting more out of you, you assure yourself. That's it.

Coran watches you for a moment. "Hm." He turns around and starts rummaging through the shelves packed with jars and boxes and bottles, pulling out a number that all look the same to you, but evidently Coran knows exactly what he's doing. Occasionally he asks you questions.

"Reasonably high fever, is that right?"

"Yes."

He fumbles for a mortar and dumps a clump of brown-reddish leaves in it.

"Hallucinations? Nightmares? Inexplicable bouts of extreme hunger?"

"Yes, yes, and... no? Not that I know of?"

Humming, he adds a few drops of a clear liquid and a pinch of powder from a leather pouch. The mixture starts to sizzle and you eye it cautiously. Its colour shifts from a muddy purple to a darker blue. Coran whistles through his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the many pots around him as he searches for the next ingredient. His eyes focus on something behind you and he gestures with his pestle. "Grab that round orange pot for me, will you."

You turn. The pot in question is small and kind of hard to spot, and you have to twist your arm in strange shapes to reach it from where it's blocked by other plants and rocks. It's dusty and surprisingly heavy, and when you turn it over there's a crudely painted picture of a skull on the lid. Your head snaps up and your fingers tighten around the pot.

Coran rolls his eyes. "I didn't have any other pot to put it in. I'm not gonna murder your friend."

You hand the pot over to him reluctantly, keeping a close eye on whatever it is he's doing. Inside is a reddish-brown paste, and Coran scoops two heavy spoonfuls out and mixes it into the blue mixture. It becomes a pleasant shade of violet. He grabs a round marble-like thing from a vase filled with similar spheres and chucks it into a fire pit at your feet. Flames burst to life, searing hot and sending you stumbling back from the wave of pure heat that comes rolling over you. Coran puts a lid on the mortar and drops it into the fire.

"So, that's gotta bake for a minute," he says cheerily, spinning around and clapping his hands. He snaps his fingers, and immediately vines begin writhing and entwining until a stool has formed. He plops down, facing you. "You have questions. Ask them. Go on."

"Will you answer them?"

he flashes that wicked grin of his. "Maybe."

You grit your teeth, staring into the flames roaring in their pit. The longer you look at them, the wilder they grow. Agitated.

"Oh, dear, don't look at them. They don't like being watched."

Your gaze snaps back to him. "How did you know what's wrong with my friend?"

"I didn't. I guessed," he adds with an eyeroll when you narrow your eyes at him. "It's easier to guess than you might think. When customers are especially preoccupied with something I can usually read it right off of them. You were no different."

"Right." You pause, not sure which of the hundred and forty questions swirling through your mind to ask next. "What if the medicine doesn't work? Can I come back?"

"It'll work."

"But if it doesn't–"

"Are you doubting my abilities?"

"What? No, but–"

"It'll work."

His tone makes it clear there's no room for discussion. At the sight of his dangerously glinting eyes (or maybe they're just reflecting the flickering flames) you decide to veer onto a safer topic. "Can everyone get into your shop? Why couldn't I find it until you showed me?"

Coran slouches a bit in his throne of vines (it's got a back and armrests now, too, and it's growing those little glowing grapes) and considers the question. "Everyone can technically get into the shop," he says slowly, as if carefully choosing his words, "but not everyone will. It's not hidden, exactly–not to the people who aren't looking."

That confuses you. "So you're saying one won't be able to find the shop if they're actively looking for it?"

"Sort of."

"Does that mean that the people who do find it aren't looking for it in the first place?"

"I guess so? Man, kid, you're asking difficult questions."

"I'm curious." You fold your arms, tucking your chin down to your chest. "And that makes no sense anyway because I found it and I was looking for it. So."

"Yeah, but you didn't find it until you actually ran into me and I showed you." Coran leaps up and stretches out his lanky limbs. "So, we still have a bit of time left before that's ready. Do you want to arrange payment now?"

Caution crept into your veins as you remember the strange price tags you saw upon entering the store. But you're not getting this medicine for free, you remind yourself. Keith won't get better by himself. The price was the price and you're willing to pay it. So you nod.

Coran grabs a box. He opens it, and inside are the last things you expected: stacks of paper, each one scribbled upon with minute precision, every sheet adorned with different handwriting. He hands you a blank sheet: it's about the size of a business card, yellowish-white and kind of grainy to the touch. It reminds you of parchment.

He also hands you a pen. It looks like a regular ballpoint pen, and when you shoot him a questioning look–you had expected at least, like, a quill with purple ink or something–he shrugs. "They're cheap. And easy to charm."

Right. You roll your eyes. "So what's the price?"

His eyes are just a little bit too shiny. "What do you want most?"

You sigh, long and drawn out. Your grip on the pen tightens ever so slightly. "Really? The way too overused one?"

Coran shrugs again, gesturing to the blank card in front of you. "It's overused for a reason, kid. It just happens to work really well."

You clench your jaw, tapping the pen against the wooden surface of the table, forcing yourself to think about the question in a serious manner.

What do you want most?

You rack your brain for an answer, puckering your lips. There are a lot of things you want. You want Allura to be safe and happy. She's got a demon for a friend, for fuck's sake. You want to not have to worry every day about Management finally tracking you down and locking you up in the Below. To feel safe.

You bring the point of the pen down to the paper and start writing, frowning when the ink doesn't appear. You go over the lines a few times, even scribble a bunch of lines in a corner to get the pen to work, but to no avail. The ink stubbornly refuses to stain your piece of parchment.

"Your pen doesn't work," you say, irritated.

Coran casts you a knowing smile. "It works just fine. Try again."

You try again. No results. You throw down the pen, letting your head drop and taking a deep breath as you lean against the desk, because you know exactly where this is going. You have experience with these kinds of enchanted objects. You chew on the inside of your cheek, glaring at the pen as if it personally murdered your firstborn.

It wants the truth.

And you refuse. You refuse to give it what it wants because it's ridiculous. Absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

But this is the price. This is the price you told yourself you would pay no matter what.

A deep breath. One more.

You snatch up the pen, gripping it so tightly your knuckles go white, and press it down onto the paper. Immediately the ink flows out, letting you write your re-evaluated answer. It almost seems to sneer at you and when you throw the pen down, handing the card to a way too smug-looking Coran, you refuse to look him in the eye.

The medicine is ready.

Coran pulls it out of the fire using tongs (because it might be magical fire, but it's still fire, and it's generally not a good idea to stick your hand in fire) and drops it in a tub of water you're sure wasn't there before. A moment later he pulls it out and removes the lid.

The paste has transformed itself into a rock-hard ball about the size of a large pill, perfectly round and kind of rough and sandy at the surface, and when Coran hands it to you it's almost freezing to the touch. It startles you so much that you almost drop it.

"Smash it to bits and put the shards in this here baggie–" he hands you what looks like a tea filter– "and let it hang in a glass of cold water for a while. When the thingie's drained of its colour and goes clear and the water has turned bright blue you make sure he drinks the whole thing before it goes warm, yeah? That's very important. He's gotta drink it right away, and he's gotta drink the whole thing. It might not work as well if he doesn't drink the whole thing."

The fact that Coran refers to the pill as "the thingie" makes you more than a bit uncomfortable, but you decide to take his word for it, because what other choice do you have?

"Right." You turn to leave, when one more thing pops into your mind. "Actually," you face him again, "I have one more question."

Coran sighs. "You have a lot of questions."

You ignore him. "How do you know Allura? Or, rather, how does Allura know you? She's the one that gave me your address in the first place," you explain. "She's my friend."

To your surprise, Coran smiles–a genuine smile this time, where his eyes crinkle in the corners, not the manic grin he's shown up till now. "I knew her father very well. I've watched her grow up. She knows she can always knock on my door."

It doesn't make much sense–what business would Allura's dad, world-famous scientist, have with this man? You decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. "How much does she know? About all this?"

"I think she knows, deep down. I don't know how much she believes. What she tells herself is real, and what isn't."

You hesitate. "Does she know about me? What I am, I mean?"

Coran heaves an exasperated sigh. "Yeesh, kid. How am I supposed to know that? I didn't even know who you were up till now!" But you get the feeling he's lying. "Now get going. Go on." He starts shooing you towards the door, gently pushing you through the shop.

You blink in surprise, too stunned to do anything but follow suit. "Wait," you stammer. "Wait, I have more questions! Will I be able to come back?"

But Coran waves you off, giving you nothing but a smile and a "Bye-bye!"

You stumble over the threshold, the pill and its baggie in your clenched fist. Cold renders your fingers almost numb, and you open them, exposing the pill to the night air. White smoke curls up from it, and you turn it over to your other hand, wincing as you rub your fingers to get a bit of warmth in them again. It's like you're holding a hailstone.

When you look up, you're disoriented by the bright lights from street lamps around you, and the fact that you're not in the same alley you were in before you entered Coran's shop. It's not even the same block. You make a full turn, dazed, before you recognise the little grocery store on the corner of the street: it's the store where you do most of your shopping. It's right across from your apartment building. Coran deposited you as close as he could to your home.

You push open the door to your apartment with your shoulder, icy pill in one hand and two bottles of chocolate milk and scotch whisky in the other, letting exhaustion creeping into your muscles as soon as you enter the familiar environment. One look to your sofa confirms Keith has barely moved over the hours you were gone. The note and the glass of water you left for him sit untouched on the coffee table.

You make your way to the kitchen and set down the bottles, grabbing a small tray on which you drop the pill. Smash it to bits, said Coran. The back end of a kitchen knife does the job just fine. To your surprise, the pill shatters immediately, shards flying everywhere. You curse, sweeping them all up and dropping them into the tea filter and filling a glass with cold water. As soon as you hang the bag in the glass, blue drips out of it in wisps, slowly tinting the water a cool blue colour. You drop onto a kitchen chair and watch with your chin in your hands, the droplets of blue seeping from the bag mesmerising.

When the water doesn't seem to get any bluer, you peek into the bag. The shards are completely colourless, now resembling bits of clear glass more than anything else. You carefully pick up the glass, hissing through your teeth at the coldness of it.

Keith is still fast asleep, shivering. He's thin, you notice. You can see his ribs through his shirt. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, you try gently nudging him awake. He doesn't respond.

"Come on," you grumble, grabbing his face and tapping his cheek. "Wake up!" Your stomach twists at the thought that he might not wake up in time. The medicine will have warmed up. You should have woken him before preparing it! "Please," you whisper, swallowing back the lump in your throat. "Don't let this have been for nothing. Come on. Wake up, dammit!"

He groans under your touch. You breathe out a shaky sigh of relief as you coerce him into sitting up. "Don't you fucking dare fall asleep again." He looks at you groggily.

You raise the glass to his chapped lips. "Drink up."

He takes a sip and flinches, bursting into coughs. "Cold," he manages. You almost wince at how weak his voice sounds–barely a whisper. He'll get better, you remind yourself. He just has to drink this and he'll get better.

"I know," you mutter, nudging the glass to his lips again. "Drink it. It'll make you feel better."

He eyes you suspiciously but obliges, squeezing his eyes shut as he gulps down the contents of the glass. He shivers, smacking his lips when it's empty and you put it on the floor. "Ah. Gross." But as he shifts, you can already see the colour return to his cheeks.

"Rest," you say, brushing strands of hair away from his forehead. "You'll feel better in the morning." Your voice is shaky and your hands tremble as you bring the glass back to the kitchen and thoroughly wash it, using about a quarter of the bottle of dish soap, running it under the hot water until the stubborn cold is completely gone.

You're tired. You don't even have the energy to shower, so you brush your teeth and crumple into bed, only taking off your boots and trousers. You keep your socks on and pull the comforter tighter around you. You're cold.

As you turn to face the wall, you think back to Coran's stupid enchanted pen. Wondering if you've made a mistake. The words you ended up writing down looping through your mind, over and over again, lighting up in front of you whenever you close your eyes. What do you want most?

I want to be safe from Management, was your first answer. The answer the pen hadn't let you write down. And it was what you wanted most–or at least what you wanted most until Keith had shown up on your doorstep just over a week ago.

What do you want most?

You drift off to sleep, the question nagging at the back of your mind.

You jolt awake at the crash, bolting up from your bed and racing for the kitchen, where the sound had come from. In your hand is the knife you keep in your nightstand. Your knuckles are white around the hilt. You slam a hand on the light switch, and the person bent over and hidden behind your fridge hits their head and yells in pain, and you brandish your knife and scream at them to Stay back!

"It's just me! Y/N!" Keith says, holding up his hands above his head.

You huff out a breath, letting the knife drop to your side. "Keith?"

He nods, blinking and squinting against the bright light. You're only barely over the shock of seeing him up and about, yet you can't help but notice how thin he looks and how weary and sunken his eyes are. His eyes keep flicking back to the knife still in your hand, and you quickly snap it shut, slipping it in the pocket of your sweatpants.

"So I take it you're feeling better?"

He nods again. "I'm hungry," he says. His voice isn't quite back to normal–it's still quite hoarse from not having used it in over five days–but you suspect it won't take very long. "Sorry for startling you. I'll go back to sleep."

You grab his arm before he can walk past you. "Nonsense. You've slept for five days straight. I'm hungry too, anyway. I can order takeout?"

He gives you a tentative smile. "That'd be great."

And that's how you end up sitting in your brightly lit kitchen at four in the morning, eating out of cardboard Chinese takeout boxes, with an angel whose life you saved. His wings are completely concealed now and don't bother him when he sits in a chair or lies down. While neither of you talks much, you both sneak glances when you think the other isn't looking.

What do you want most?

He looks nervous, and even though he insists he's not tired you can tell he's fighting against the weight of his eyelids, his movements droopy and slow, as if he's moving through layers of syrup. When he almost drops his fork (at four A.M. you're allowed to eat Chinese with a fork) out of exhaustion, you nudge his leg with your foot under the table.

"Go back to sleep."

"I'm fine. I'm still hungry."

"You can eat tomorrow. You're barely able to hold yourself upright, idiot."

He sighs but pushes his chair back and stands up. His knees immediately buckle beneath him, and you shoot out of your chair and only just manage to catch him before he drops to the ground. "All right, okay. There we go. I got you."

"Not feeling as good as I thought," Keith mutters into your shoulder as you practically drag him to the sofa.

"Evidently."

You tuck him in (it seems like such a childish gesture–but curled up like that, looking thin and fragile, Keith reminds you of a small kid and it just feels like the right thing to do) and resist the weird urge to plant a kiss on his forehead. You settle for a somewhat awkward pat on the shoulder.

You stick the leftover food in the fridge and make your way back to your own room. You're still kind of cold, so you keep the sweatpants and sweatshirt on, bringing the knife out of your pocket and setting it back on your nightstand before climbing into bed.

The buzzing of the city outside of your window keeps you up for hours as you toss and turn. Feelings you don't know what to make of churn through you. Relief at the fact that the medicine seems to be working. Fear, because you don't really know how to proceed now. A demon saving an angel's life–that one's pretty much unheard of, you think bitterly.

Oh, if Management were to find out... not only would your fate be settled, you would have signed Keith's death warrant along with it. The comforter bunches in your clenched fists and you twist around, shutting your eyes resolutely.

What do you want most?

#keith x reader #voltron keith x reader #voltron keith #voltron keith kogane #voltron keith kogane x reader #keith voltron #keith voltron x reader #vld keith x reader #vld keith kogane #vld keith #vld keith kogane x reader #keith vld #keith vld x reader #keith kogane vld x reader #voltron fic #keith fic #keith voltron fic #allura vld #allura voltron

49 notes · View notes

eightcurioussouls · 6 years

Text

CHAPTER 10: SHAKE MY HAND

The moment the children had stepped out of the Ruins, bitter cold had assaulted them, except a select few, who were the kids wearing long sleeves.

Andres had blinked at the few freezing kids, confused, “Why’re y'all shiverin’?” He asked, head tilting slightly.

Cason gave a soft, chilling chuckle, “Just- just the snow, Andres.” He replied, Diction sighed, “Cason, you are in shorts, a short sleeved shirt and a bandanna- and the gloves! Honestly, you'll freeze.” The boy removed his jacket, dumping it on him with yet another sigh, Cason gave a small, grateful nod.

“Anyways- doesn't this road look a tad bit… long?” Vic asked, gesturing to their only way forward, “What if- something pops up along the way? It's a tad risky.” Gracie gave him a look, and smiled, “Well, we should go check it, right?” She asked, giggling softly, “The more we check, the more we know!” “Yeah, yeah…” He sighed, and began to walk, Frisk on his tail, and the others soon followed.

As they walked, the children chatted happily, Oli, despite the cold, was skipping around.

And Andres, having walked ahead of everyone for a moment, ended up coming across a stick.

“Hey- guys! Check it!” He called out, gesturing to it, everyone crowded around it, murmuring.

“* It’s a tough-looking branch, it’s too heavy to pick up.” “...” “Do ya think it fell from a great height?” “It would’ve snapped to pieces, otherwise.” “It's a pretty big stick….” “I don't think we can pick it up.” “Duh, genius! Cason is trying to do that!” Victor listened to the others, ‘...So they can’t hear Choc, huh?’ He thought.

Frisk broke up the conversation with a gesture to carry on.

And so they did, however....

C r u n c h.

The cowboy spun to look at what did the noise, and stared at the now-broken stick.

“...” He seemed to have kicked into high alert, turning to rush back to the others.

And they continued walking.

The sounds of happy chatting had resumed, at some point, Diction had turned to look behind them.

And caught the sight of something moving, he froze up, eyes widening.

Frisk tugged his sleeve, having noticed him freeze, he glanced at them, relaxing slightly.

‘What’s wrong?’ “Nothing, kid.” Was his answer, Diction gave a shaky grin, “Let’s keep going.”

And they kept walking.

Soon enough, they came to a barred bridge, they looked between each other, confused.

And then they all froze up, were those… footsteps?

They were getting closer, and closer…

S o v e r y c l o s e . . .

“H u m a n s.” Andres had reached over, gripping Victor’s hand nervously, his eyes were wide, Victor’s eyes flicked back to him, he didn’t seem as scared.

“D o n ‘ t y o u k n o w h o w t o g r e e t a n e w p a l ?” Frisk clung to Diction, shaking a bit, Diction bit his lip, maybe he should’ve told the others…

“T u r n a r o u n d a n d s h a k e m y h a n d .” Cason had place a gloved hand on Oli’s shoulder, to stop the little girl from shaking so hard.

...No one turned.

Except Gracie, who spun around carefully, and reached for the outstretched hand, grabbing it.

…

FRRRRRRRRRRRRT-

Cason absolutely lost it the moment he heard the noise, Oli seemed confused, as did the others, Gracie gave a small, nervous smile.

“heheh… the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it’s ALWAYS funny.” The newcomer spoke, Gracie gasped at their appearance, “You’re…” She stopped herself, thinking it might’ve been rude to point out the fact that this monster is literally no skin and all bones, but he continued, “anyways, you’re all human, right?” “I- well, yes-” “that’s hilarious. i’m sans. sans the skeleton.” The ballerina gave a soft sigh of relief at that, okay, good, he was suppose to be that way, “i’m actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now.” AND BACK TO THE TENSING.

“but… y’know… i don’t really care about capturing anybody.” And the sighs of relief.

“now, my brother, papyrus… he’s a human-hunting FANATIC.” CUE INTERNAL WORRY FROM THE CHILDREN. “hey, actually, i think that’s him over there.” “Oh fuck-” “i have an idea. go through this gate thingy.” “You want us to wHAT-” “yeah, go right through, my bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.” “I… I mean…” And he’s ushering them all through.

Once through, Sans pointed at… seven lamps, why were there seven lamps there, “quick, behind those conveniently-shaped lamps.” The children looked between each other, going behind their respective lamps, some found this to be goddamn hilarious, especially Victor and Cason, of all people.

They quietened down upon hearing footsteps nearby, coming closer and closer until…

“s’up, bro?” Sans started, and he was answered with a loud voice, “YOU KNOW WHAT’S ‘S’UP’, BROTHER!” They started, “IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!” “staring at these lamps. they’re really cool. do you wanna look?” Victor had peeked slightly out of his lamp’s hiding space to draw his finger across his throat to the skeleton, eyes narrowed, “I will fucking murder you if you give us away.” He hissed lowly.

“NO!!” Papyrus exclaimed, “I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT! WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE!?!” The taller skeleton stomped his foot on the snow, “I WANT TO BE READY! I WILL BE THE ONE, I MUST BE THE ONE!” He huffed, “I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN!” He placed his hand on his chest, having stopped stomping, “THEN, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS… WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESERVE!” Diction looked at Victor, “First impression?” “Kinda conceited, but…” “RESPECT... RECOGNITION… I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD.” Papyrus continued, Vic chuckled, “I think his heart is in the right place- wait, what’s a Royal Guard?” Vic whispered, eyes widening, Diction shrugged, “Let’s hope we don’t find out.”

Though, Papyrus continued with his speech, his brother listening in, “PEOPLE WILL ASK, TO, BE MY, ‘FRIEND’? I WILL BATHE IN A SHOWER OF KISSES EVERY MORNING.” Sans gave a chuckle, “hmm...” He started, “maybe these lamps can help you.” “BITCH SHUT YOUR FUCK-” Victor hissed, though, he was interrupted by Papyrus, “SANS!! YOU ARE NOT HELPING!! YOU LAZYBONES!! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AND BOONDOGGLE!!” “Boon-” Diction started, “Boon-what now-” “YOU GET LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!!” “Roasted.” Andres quipped, “hey, take it easy, i got a ton of work done.” Sans started, there’s a small pause.

“A skele-ton.” For a second there, Sans had turned to someone and winked, but who knows who it was, the sound of a ‘ba-dum-tss’ was heard, Andres giggled at that and Vic almost lost it in a small fit of rage.

Victor hates puns.

And it seems that Papyrus shares a bit of that sentiment, though he doesn’t seem as aggravated as the apron-clad boy, “SANS!!” He hollered, “come on.” Sans stated, “you’re smiling.” “I AM AND I HATE IT!! UGH…” The skeleton huffed yet again, “WHY DOES SOMEONE AS GREAT AS ME… HAVE TO DO SO MUCH JUST TO GET SOME RECOGNITION?” “wow, sounds like you’re really working yourself…” And Vic groans, here it comes again.

“down to the bone.” And he does it again, he turns, winks off at someone, whoever they may be, as well as the ‘ba-dum-tss’, and turned back, grinning, “UGH!!” Papyrus groaned as well, “I WILL ATTEND TO MY PUZZLES.” He stated, recollecting himself, “AS FOR YOUR WORK.” He started, “PUT A LITTLE MORE… ‘BACKBONE’ INTO IT!!! NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!” And off he goes, turning his heel and leaving.

Though he does return for a second with a final “HEH!” and then, truly left.

A blanket of silence befell the area, and Sans broke it with a chuckle, “ok, you can come out now.”

And one by one, the children- some reluctant to do so- shuffled out from behind the lamps, they gave a look to Sans, who, again, chuckled, “you all oughta get going, he might come back. and if he does… well, you’ll have to sit through more of my hilarious jokes.” “Yeah that’s it we’re going.” Vic grabbed Cason by his wrist, heading off, the others looked between each other, and Gracie sighed, “Let’s go.” She murmured, and off they went.

Before they could, though, Sans piped up, and they looked at him, “actually, hey… hate to bother ya, but can you all do me a favour?” He asked, Diction tilted his head, “Oh..?” “i was thinking, my brother’s been kind of down lately.” The skeleton admitted, “he’s never seen a human before- let alone seven, and seeing you all just might make his day.” The children looked between each other, “don’t worry, he’s not dangerous.” Sans added, “even if he tries to be.” He chuckled, “thanks a million, i’ll be up ahead.” And… he turns on his heel and goes back the way they all came.

Silence overcame the children yet again, though, Vic broke it.

“I have a question.” “Yes, Vic?” Diction murmured.

“WHAT, THE KRIS-KRINGLING FUCK, WAS ALL THAT ABOUT?!” The older children burst into a fit of laughter- Gracie blushed and quietly told the younger children to never repeat anything the boy says.

With that, they were quick to head on- chatter rising from the group, within the next area, one of those stars lay- Micah was quick to grab it and save, Andres was marvelling over the the snow, giggling softly, “When can we play in it?” He asked, yellow eyes wide, Gracie gave a small smile, and patted his shoulder, “Soon, dear.” The girl cooed, Cason had gone up to their left and came back, looking a bit sad, he earned some quizzical looks, and all he could muster was; “There was some sort of note saying to call someone, my phone is dead…” Victor snorted, covering his mouth, though he doesn’t make a witty comment.

They head onwards, and the first they note- those two again. Diction raised an eyebrow, slowly pushing the other children behind him.

“SO, AS I WAS SAYING ABOUT UNDYNE-” Papyrus started, but he caught sight of the group, and looked to Sans, who, when he turns back to, turns to look at the group, they repeated this, slowly getting faster and faster until they were flat out spinning- the kids looked between themselves in mutual concern- before they both turn their backs, “SANS!! OH MY GOD!! ARE THOSE... HUMANS?!?!?!” They turn back to the group, the tall blonde raises an eyebrow at them.

Sans leans to his side ever-so-slightly, a thing only Diction had noticed, “actually… i think those are rocks.” He pointed out, and Diction looks behind him, noticing three, four rocks behind the group, he rolled his eyes, turning back to the skeletons- Oli’s grip of fear on his hand was tight.

“OH.” Papyrus slumped a bit at that, and Sans makes a glance towards the group, “hey, what’re those in front of the rocks?” He asked, and Papyrus turns to look at them, eye sockets lighting up, “OH MY GOD!!!” He yelled, and leaned towards Sans, “(ARE… ARE THOSE HUMANS.)” He whisper-yelled, Sans winked, “(yes.)” The taller skeleton gasps, looking to them, “OH MY GOD!!!!” He exclaimed, and Diction sighed, “My e a r s.” He grumbled, frowning.

“SANS! I FINALLY DID IT!!” Papyrus exclaimed, “UNDYNE WILL… I’M GONNA… I’LL BE SO…”

“POPULAR!!! POPULAR!!! POPULAR!!!” He pauses, “...AHEM.” He regains his composure, and points to the group, “HUMANS! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA!” He proclaims boldly, “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU!! I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU! YOU WILL BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITAL! THEN… THEN!!” A pause, “I’M NOT SURE WHAT’S NEXT… IN ANY CASE! CONTINUE, ONLY IF YOU DARE!!” He then proceeded to rush off, yelling ‘NYEH-HEH-HEH’, Diction facepalmed, sighing, Sans turns to them, “well, that went well.” He admitted, “don’t sweat it, kids.” He then winks again, “i’ll keep an eye socket out for ya.” He then heads off after his brother, leaving the kids in silence, Victor takes a deep breath.

“I’ve decided; I fucking hate the short one in particular.” He stated, Diction rolled his eyes.

And so they proceed.

(( aaa goodness! this took so long- and i’m sorry it did! i honestly need to post this story more often aaa, anyways, thank you for the patience in waiting for this, and sorry, no pictures this time because i wanted it out! i’m gonna get to the next chapter real soon <3 ))

#storyline #story line #Runaway Patience. {Olivia.}#Abandoned Bravery. {Cason.}#Shot Down Integrity. {Gracie.}#Forgotten Perseverance. {Diction.}#Abused Kindness. {Victor.}#Neglected Justice. {Andres.}#Fallen Determination. {Micah/Frisk.}#sans #papyrus #grouptale #undertale #((#not ok to rb #yall are free to comment tho sadwsfdg #))

10 notes · View notes

vidia-x-marsden · 3 years

Text

( selena gomez, 26, cisfemale, she / her ) Was that VIDIA MARSDEN? I heard a rumor they work for the FAUST family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit CAUSTIC & BLUNT, but I also heard they can be CHARISMATIC & GREGARIOUS. You’ll usually find them at TAKEDOWN GYM in their spare time, when they’re not being a FAUST CAPOREGIME / OWNER OF THE BLUE ORCHID. You may want to keep an eye on that one!

tw: domestic violence, domestic violence towards a pregnant woman, alcoholism

Full Name: Vidianna Adora Marsden Nickname(s): Vidia, Vidi Age: 26 Birthday: July 15th Zodiac: Cancer Occupation: Owner of The Blue Orchid (a luxurious spa). Gang Affiliation: Faust (as a Caporegime)

- F A M I L Y -

Father: Emilio De Silva Mother: Georgia Marsden Children: Has a two-year-old daughter named Angelica

Ex-Fiancée: Malcolm (prison)

- P E R S O N A L I T Y -

(+) Affable, Gregarious, Charismatic, Perceptive, Motherly (-) Caustic, Cunning, Impatient, Blunt, Cautious

Vidia is a very motherly type of character - her maternal instincts are constantly on overdrive, so she will literally smother you with mama energy if she’s given the chance. She absolutely loves children and sees anyone younger than her as someone she needs to care for...despite that rarely actually being the case.

Very meticulous and likes organization over being disorganized, and that includes everything - from her daily schedules, to her living space, to the rules of the Fausts, etc. Literally, unorganized chaos drives her crazy. Organized mess, on the other hand - that is the chaos that she thrives on.

She is mostly quite easy to talk to and to get along with, but she is also very stubborn and will fight and go toe-to-toe with someone if push come to shove.

Also, she does have a dark and sadistic side to her - violence and blood bring it out in her. She loves it. Odd, given her passed experience with such things, but she says that fighting and killing or watching someone else fight and kill - it keeps her grounded and reminds her that she wasn’t weak or someone who took anyone’s shit laying down.

- L I K E S / D I S L I K E S

Likes / Interests:

Being a mother

Reading

Ice Skating

Boating

Hair & Makeup

Running her business

Dancing

Going to the gym and working out

Huge foodie

Cooking

Baking

Dislikes:

Unorganized rules

Mess

Feeling useless

- B I O G R A P H Y -

Vidia Marsden was a young woman of many talents, raised in an extremely wealthy household where ambition and success was revered. She was encouraged from a very young age to dip her toes into as many pools as possible, and that’s exactly what she did, starting with dance classes at five and gymnastics at six - both of those she continued with up until she was out of high school. She took an interest in cooking and baking when she was also very young, and was taught to know her way around the kitchen from her family’s live-in cook, Lucinda. Those lessons she still maintained and worked on, to this day. She absolutely loved being in the kitchen - when she was stressed or angry, and needed to work off steam, you will most likely find her in the kitchens, making something (or in a gym somewhere, hitting shit).

When she was a little bit older, around nine, she started taking an interest in learning about makeup and hair, having accompanied her mother to The Blue Orchid - one of the many spas that her family owned - on numerous occasions. She fell in love with cosmetology and the whole process of cutting and styling hair, and the flawless application of makeup and how transformative both could be. She’d been utterly transfixed.

In high school, she played tennis and joined the cheer squad her freshman year, whilst participating in a handful of school committees, such as the yearbook and dance committee, and the student council as the treasurer (freshman and sophomore year), and then the president (junior and senior year). She wasn’t by any means the most popular girl in school - never wanted to be, either - but she was very well liked, all the same. She had a natural charisma about her that people seemed to be drawn to and that kept her friend circle large and ever growing.

Born in Los Angeles, California, but was raised in Chicago, Illinois.

Daughter of two extremely wealthy individuals. Her father, Emilio De Silva, was a well to-do hotshot attorney based in Los Angeles, California, while her mother, Georgia, was an heiress to a mass fortune - more specifically, a multi-million dollar corporation that specialized in luxury spas and individual hair & nail salons, world-wide.

The company, Marsden Spas Corporation, was established in Los Angeles in 1928, by her entrepreneurial great-great grandfather, R.D. Marsden, and has grown exponentially over the decades, with hundreds of their new businesses sprouting up all over the country and even a few globally. Destination spas, day spas, mineral spas, med spas...and a plethora of hair, nail and cosmetic salons.

Vidia’s parents were never married. In fact, when she was five, the two of them split up, and instead of staying in Los Angeles, Georgia took Vidia and moved the two of them to Chicago.

After the split, Vidia hardly ever saw her father. Once every few years, he’d have her flown over to southern California to spend a holiday with him, and he called maybe three or four times a year, if that. They didn’t really have much of a relationship during her childhood - Emilio was far too dedicated to his work to be a real father. He showered her with gifts and money from afar, but the parental dedication just wasn’t there. He loved her, but it was rare that he told her that.

When her maternal grandfather died from a heart attack, all of the responsibilities of running the family business fell onto Georgia, and to Vidia, who was set to inherit it all after her.

After high school, Vidia went to cosmetology school and studied business on the side. She already had very impressive hair and makeup skills and a deep knowledge for skin care, after spending a childhood around experts in those fields, learning and being mentored. It was her niche and she absolutely loved it.

When she was eighteen, she was introduced to the Fausts but she didn’t join the mafia until the following year. (looking to plot this out with someone, before I expand on the reasons that she joined).

After graduating college, she got a job at the The Blue Orchid as a hair and makeup artist whilst jumping in when needed to help her mother run the corporation as a whole.

At the age of twenty-two, Vidia met her now ex-fiancée, Malcolm. The two dated for two years before he finally proposed and they were set to get married...but then things just seemed to change with him. He drank a shit ton more than he ever had in the years she’d known him, and with that, his anger became explosive and volatile - it was like he had turned into a completely different person overnight. He was very irritable and easy to anger; the complete opposite of who she’d initially fallen in love with.

It didn’t help that she found out she was pregnant not long after the proposal.

At the time, she assumed he was just going through something at work that he just wasn’t telling her about and it would go away once whatever it was was resolved. She’d had no idea that it wouldn’t actually get better but rather it would escalate so badly.

Vidia was a strong and independent woman, who swore she would never allow a man or anyone to lay a hand on her more than once. It wasn’t in her nature to be so docile that she would take a beating laying down, and then come back for more and expect shit to be any different. Up until the point where she realized this was that type of situation, he hadn’t laid a single finger on her. His words had been his weapons.

It was his one and only physical attack on Vidia, that landed him in prison, her on life support and their daughter Angelica to be born several weeks prematurely. It had been the first and last time he had hit her - and it literally damn near killed her.

She hadn’t even seen the attack coming. She’d been in the process of making dinner when Malcolm came home, stumbling, drunk out of his mind and in the foulest mood she’d ever seen him in, and understandably, she’d been pissed. After all, this had been the new routine for months and she was sick of it, so she did what any normal, hormonally pregnant girlfriend would have done in that situation - she raised her voice - and that’s when he hit her. And then hit her some more.

She spent three weeks at the hospital in recovery over the attack, the first several days fighting for her life over the internal trauma he’d caused. Once she had recovered, and both she and her newborn daughter Angelica were released from the hospital, Vidia moved into the Faust Manor, where she’s lived ever since.

At the beginning of 2020, her mother officially stepped down as CEO of the company, wanting to do other things before she got too old, and this forced Vidia to take up the mantle as head of Marsden Corporation.

- W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S -

Faust Affiliates - Obviously. She’s been with the gang for seven years, so she’s bound to have known many of them for quite some time.

Best Friend(s) - Vidia is a more or less friendly person, especially within the Faust circle or when she’s around civilians, so I would love to have some deep friendship connections for her.

Little Sister / Brother Type - Someone younger than her that she absolutely mothers to death, whether they want her to or not.

Employees for The Blue Orchid - That would be dope, having a few of the stations within the spa manned by in-play characters.

Employee Suggestions: receptionist, massage therapists, hair stylists, colorists, nail technicians, spa attendants, spa concierges, wax specialists, estheticians, cosmetologists

Love Interests

One-Night Flings

FWBs

Enemies / Rivalries

LITERALLY OPEN TO ANY SORT OF CONNECTIONS

#crimson.intro #FINALLY finished her intro #after what feels like a damn year XD #feel free to hmu for plots & connections #her likes and dislikes aren't complete #those still need work

0 notes

noir0neko · 7 years

Text

to namjoon; a birthday card

this is a post for kim namjoon on his sacred birthday. it is full of light and appreciation and sparkly laughter and happy tears of love for our leader mon, who has guided bts, and its individual members for nearly five years with intelligence, compassion, companionship, and care. there are so many things I have to say, I could create a post longer than the oxford dictionary, but i am exercising all forms of restraint to keep it kind of brief. i hope you enjoy and relate to my lov for eggmon,,, reblog, share, and add to this card to spread all the appreciation for this amazing human on his special day ♡

without further ado;

the man

How can you describe the man without describing how hard he has worked to become who he is now? From the depths of the underground rap scene to the top of international billboard charts, Kim Namjoon has embarked on a remarkable journey of self reflection, growth, and discovery, that we as ARMYS have had the honor of witnessing.

Namjoon has always been a seemingly humble man, never boasting about his looks, sincerely apologizing for mistakes, and allowing other members in the group to take charge. As a leader, he has been an amazing role model, and big(or little) brother to the rest of the group. And while he has always been quiet about his achievements there are many under his belt, he has written and composed many of bangtan’s tracks, he has outlined their comeback concepts, spoken on behalf of the group, produced his own mixtape and individual songs both for himself and other members, he has also collaborated with those he looks up to, not to mention taking the time to teach the other members English so they feel more confident in their abilities when abroad. He is heartfelt, sincere, humorous, despite the challenges presented to him with being a leader of an extremely popular band in the 21st century. He faces a lot of criticism, which I'm sure he is not ignorant to, especially regarding past cultural and lingual mistakes he has made, and being respectful and responsible he apologized, stopped, and still manages to hold his head high and be himself.

And he is himself. A goofy, clumsy, talented, extremely beautiful inside and out rapper who had carried Bangtan on his back for so long and is still strong and carries all of us ARMYS too. Without him, BTS would be unimaginable and there is no doubt that his strong and loving leadership has kept them all tied together as one. So to Namjoon, to Rap Monster, to the leader of Bangtan, you are irreplaceable and we love you so much.

namjoon abc’s

a- amazing, aesthetic, aegyo on point

b- brilliant

c- creative and cute

d- dA BEST PERSON TO EXISt

e- everything good and wholesome in the world, eggmon

f-for real the mAN Of tHE cenTury

g- god of destruction, god of looks, god of rap. god. just god.

h- how does he even exist???

i- intelligent as fuck

j- jfc i lov him

k- kool, 2 kool 4 skool, kimdaily

l- livin like larry

m- “my name is rap monster, R-A-P monster, not d-a-n-c-e monster.”

n- “nOT d-A-n-CE mOnSter”

o- oHmYgOd rEmember when hE sang fOols and broKe my wholE boDy

p- pocket monster in ur pocket

q- questions every single thing about life

r- runch randa on the streets, with ryan in the sheets

s- sailor mon, sleeve mon

t- those converse high tho bro

u- ummmm, “I wrote this, I composed this, I produced that, I sang that, I rapped this,” basically a milliontuple threat

v- very very very vErY ;;;;;)))))))))

w- “weLcome,, first time with bts??”

x- x-ray my heart bitch it has his name on it

y- “yoU like nO skirt.”

z- zesty like a lemon, fresh like a salad

some highlight moments to capture the diversity of rapman

this whole stAge tbh i watch it everyday

i’m still wet for this hair

and this look

an actual king with a fake crown who stole my real heart

this pic is blurry but my heart is still not beating, he looks so good in blUe

everyday relatable asf namjoon

u mu’ bE KIDDIN ME

the best download i ever made right here

oney true nineties kids remember namjoon’s obsession with crabs pt 1

continuation of vintage 90′s flashback pt 1.5

pt 2, the only trip memory he has

oNLY TRUE SIXTIES KIDS REMEMBER THIS,, watch ahl 10/10

this mv is still a classIc and So waS hiS OUTFIT and thoSE FINGER GUNS

if this isn’t the cutest thing you’ve seen u have no soul

deep quotes and life changing lyrics

“Are we dying to live, or living to die?”

“Jimin, you got no jams.”

“Although youth can be beautiful, it can be short and wander off; like a shadow, it has a reckless danger to it.”

“Even if you’re not perfect, you’re limited edition.”

“Hiphop is dead. Only Sailor Mon survived.”

"We normally think of love between a man and a woman. But I think caring for others is also love."

“I want to catch some crabs.” Part 1

“I want to catch some crabs.” Part 2

“I want to catch some crabs.” Part 3

“i”m a master baby with your bra.”

“You can call me Converse pervert.”

“Simply put, if there is no you(Army), there is no me.”

“Members told me not to cook or five, for the sake of world peace.”

“I am just me. I’m not an idol. I’m not an artist. I’m not hip hop. I’m not anything. I am just me. I am Rap Monster. I am Kim Namjoon.”

i just love him so much,,, it’s not as long as i originally planned but I'm so busy and i feel like this is so lame to show my love for him but i really hope he has the best birthday and gets alllll the love he deserves

~Admin Eggplant

#HappyRMDay #HappyNamjoonDay #kim namjoon #rap monster #bts kim namjoon #bts rap monster #bts appreciation post #kim namjoon appreciation post #rap monster appreciation post #bangtan boys #bts #beyond the scene #bangtan sonyeondan

49 notes · View notes

markhycks · 7 years

Text

markhyuck au where

mark is a real estate agent trying to sell a house that has been unoccupied for years but donghyuck (the ghost who haunts it) won’t let him. warning: very long post / aged up!markhyuck

—- i wrote this bc i had to get this out of my system - yall can keep scrolling if u dont like markhyuck !! ALSO i have z e r o clue how the real estate industry works so this is probably super inaccurate

ok so:

no one wants to buy this property bc its apparently haunted by a ghost

mark thinks thats just stupid

hes just trying his very best n rly wants a promotion !!

so his boss (obviously taeil bc we love a moon taeil managing a real estate business) offers to give a raise n promotion to anyone that can sell the house bc the last dude that tried to got so close but the couple pulled out last min after hearing abt the rumours

mark thinks he is aBSOLUTELY FULLY CAPABLE of selling this house so he tells his boss he wants to give it a shot

taeils like r u sure you’ve only been working here for 6 months

n mark lee’s all hell yea i got this thats why rumours around the world are saying mark is abs-

so boss man’s like aight ill leave this task to you

everyone else in the office is all :000000

sicheng the cute intern is all ARE YOU SURE ABT THIS MARK in his broken chinese n he’s all cute and worried and its the first time the others have heard him speak this much

jaehyun his bff in the office is like good luck man bc he once tried selling it too but whimped out after encountering so called ghost

so anyways mark has to go inspect the property the next day

he gets given the keys yadda yadda

when he turns up to the house (which, mind you, is a very nice house located on the outskirts of town by a little lake) and opens the door he hears a loud “WHO GOES THERE”

and mARK FREAKS TF OUT

like he legit jumps n he’s pretty sure he almost peed himself n hes sso oso scared but then he remembers his mission and that he’s not going to turn out like the rest and he w I L L sell this house

so he loosens his tie with a d e t er m i n e d face and enters the home

“whos there!! show yourself!”

he thinks he sounds pretty fierce but it actually came out a quiet squeak

anyways it’s silent for a bit and mark’s like super wary as he closes the door behind him

“LEAVE THIS HOUSE IMMEDIATELY!!!” and suddenly theres a picture frame thrown at the wall

mark panics again and he’s so close to running out but he stays determined!!! bc!! fully capable mark!!

“no i have to sell this house and i won’t leave until i do so!!”

and it just goes silent again until the voice speaks up again

“who are you”

“i, um. mark?”

“you sound unsure”

“well. i mean, would you kill me for being a little nervous? jheesh”

he looks around. where is the voice even coming from? it projects through the entire house like its on speaker

mark’s not sure where he got this sudden confidence from but he feels a lot less scared than before so he just loosens his tie and walks around the house with his clipboard, doing his lil inspection

the ghost? spirit? whatever it is doesn’t say anything and mark just shrugs and carries on with his business and before he knows it an hour has already passed

“hey spirit” he calls out

and it’s like silent for ages

so he just shrugs and he’s about to leave when

“you can’t sell this house. it’s mine”

and mark just stops at the door and he can’t help but feel a lil sad at the spirit’s sad tone bc it probably has like so many memories in the house and it probably hasn’t crossed over or whatever (he’s not sure how the whole supernatural thing works but he’s watched ghost whisperer before)

the last thing mark says before he leaves is “i’ll be back tomorrow and you better be gone”

he thinks he hears the spirit scoff but maybe its just his ears

honestly mark has a hard time believing all of this and he goes to bed that night wondering h o w he’s going to deal with this situation

anyway mark turns up the next day and this time the spirit doesn’t seem as hostile

that being said it continues to threaten mark and starts moving objects around

but honestly mark (and his newfound confidence) only rolls his eyes as makes a list of the repairs that need to be done (bc deep down he doesnt believe any of this is actually happening)

so they fall into a routine

mark keeps coming back and the spirit keeps threatening him

sometimes it tries to sabotage his work by moving things around

mark’s gotten so used to it that he literally just sighs like “give it back”

the spirit actually listens to him and does

eventually they start talking more

mark’s found out the spirit’s name is donghyuck but that’s all the information he knows

he thinks it’d be inappropriate to ask stuff like “oh so how did u die” so they just end up having the most random conversations

“make sure you paint the hallway walls blue. the mustard yellow is so outdated”

“you’ll leave and let me sell the house if i paint them blue?”

“i never said that”

and mark ends up spending more time at the house than necessary

so one day jaehyun pulls him aside at work n he’s all “dude??? are u ok? you’re hardly in the office these days”

and mark’s like “yeah man u know its just the repairs for the house they’re taking ages”

jaehyun is suspicious but shrugs it off and tells him to be careful

taeil asks how the task is going and mark suddenly gets all nervous for no reason bc HOW IS THE TASK GOING??? he doesnt even know 

he just gives another casual response n says the house should be ready soon for him to start bringing in clients

taeil just pats his back and wishes him good luck

when mark finishes work that evening he literally feels so down bc he literally had one j o b but here he is being all chummy with a ghost that haunts this house and its all just so messed up in his head

he doesnt know what makes him do it but that evening he ends up going to the house

“someone’s working the night shift”

mark just blinks in confusion at the words because what the heck. he’s meant to be here for work and this isn’t work so w h y is he here at 7pm on a friday???

instead he just takes a seat on the floor by the wall in the empty living area and sighs like a sad puppy

“what’s the matter?” donghyuck asks and his voice sounds genuinely concerned??? if anything it scares mark a bit

“who - no. what are you?” he finally asks

and then there’s silence

it’s literally like that for almost an hour before mark asks again

“are you like some kind of ghost? spirit? do you need help crossing over? i just. i really need you to leave and you’re not making my job any easier and i’m so confused and half of me doesn’t even believe any of this is real”

silence

it almost convinces mark that he really is going mad because there’s no such thing as ghosts and he’s just talking to an empty house

until a quiet voice says

“i’m neither of those”

mark feels so, so confused and he just ruffles his hair in frustration

“then what are you?”

“what’s your favorite color?”

he’s taken aback by the question

nonetheless, he responds with a quiet “green”

“green is disgusting. red is better”

“red is literally the color of the devil i’m guessing thats what you are”

he’s expecting an angry remark but instead he’s met with soft laughter and all mark can do is smile in return

he ends up spending the night at the house talking to donghyuck all night

it’s a saturday the next day and mark is so co n f u s e d when he wakes up to the smell of pancakes?

he follows the smell and finds a plate of pancakes sitting at the table with a note “i’m assuming you never ate dinner last night. eat up - D”

mark thinks he’s living in a dream bc did a ghost just?? COOK for him??

reality at this point has become so warped in his mind that he doesn’t care anymore and he starts eating

he hears laughter

“calm down youre eating as if its your last day on earth”

he sticks up a middle finger at no one in particular, hoping donghyuck will see it from wherever he is, and he’s only met with more laughter

when he’s finished eating and rinses his plate (which he has no idea where it came from) he’s thinking about what donghyuck said to him last night about not being a ghost

“donghyuck”

“mark”

for a brief moment he’s startled. it’s the first time donghyuck’s said his name and he’s not sure how he feels about it. if anything, the tips of his ears growing red must indicate a positive sign

“what ar- i mean. how do yo- no. what do you look like?”

silence

he runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh before leaving the house again

he doesn’t return for another week

when mark comes back, he’s with a client

mr johnny seo and his boyfriend chittaphon seem extremely keen in the property and want to move in despite hearing rumors about a ghost

mark doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing

johnny and chittaphon are into that buzzfeed unsolved kind of shit and run their own vlog series on youtube and theyre just e c s t a t i c that they might be moving into a haunted house

mark thinks theyre weird as shit but he wants that promo

donghyuck probably doesn’t mind sharing anyway

when he thinks back to donghyuck he feels a pang in his chest and dare he say it, he misses them?

anyways

mark takes the couple back to the house and he feels weird

he can’t pinpoint what’s wrong but he just feels strange inside his chest

there are two things he’s learnt about johnny and chittapon:

one, they cant keep their hands off each other

and two, they can’t stop filming every waking moment of their lives

so when they’re following him to the house with their giant ass camera and chittaphon’s giggles, mark can only roll his eyes as he inserts the key

but the door won’t open

mark’s confused - he hadn’t come back to change the locks so why won’t the key fit?

he feels slightly flustered in the presence of the couple and their camera and he laughs nervously

they must feel pretty bad for him because they laugh nervously too

mark tries again but to no avail and sighs in frustration when it hits him: donghyuck - this was clearly his doing

mark clears his throat awkwardly before turning back to the couple “i’m sor-”

“LEAVE AT ONCE”

johnny and chittaphon jump back, eyes wider than saucers while mark has to c o n t a i n himself from rolling his eyes at donghyuck’s ~scary voice~

he half expects the couple to run away but instead johnny only begins to roll the camera once again and there’s a look of nervous excitement on chittaphon’s face

mark turns to the door once again and hisses “donghyuck open the door”

he hopes the couple haven’t heard him but judging by the looks on their faces, they have

“LEAVE MY HOME AT ONCE BEFORE I CURSE YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES”

and mark can only snort

johnny looks absolutely f a s c i nat e d by this point and mark groans internally before beginning to knock on the door

“donghyuck not cool just open the damn d o o r before i break it down”

there’s silence and mark takes it as his cue to try unlocking the door with his set of keys again

it works and he allows the couple to enter

donghyuck attempts to scare the trio a few times during mark’s tour of the house by moving things around - causing johnny to drop his camera at one point and chittaphon to curse at him for bringing it because its probably broken now

anyway the tour goes t e rr i b ly

mark is pissed

he’s not sure what johnny and chittaphon are feeling

when he sees the couple off he just shuts the door angrily and donghyuck just g i g g le s

“what the fuck man did u have to do that?”

“i told you to leave”

“and i told you to leave. what is even your problem???”

at this point mark’s just yelling and donghyuck doesnt seem to care tbh

there are a few more clients he tries to bring that week and the week after

they all go awfully thanks to donghyuck and by the end of the fourth week mark is on the verge of giving up

donghyuck on the other hand seems to be having way too much fun

“can you just like, stop?” mark sighs

he’s very very tired at this point and he’s considering giving the keys back to taeil and telling him he can’t do it

he’s picks up his blazer that he’d taken off earlier and is about to leave when he hears a

“where are you going?”

mark just releases the loudest snort before turning to the empty walls of the house and raising a brow at nothing in particular

“are you kidding me? i’m done. congrats donghyuck you get to keep your damn house”

donghyuck doesn’t say anything

- when mark shakes his head and turns to open the front door

it won’t open

“very funny, donghyuck. open it so i can leave”

he’s met with silence a g a i n so he pulls the keys out of his pocket

“wait!”

he whips his head around in confusion bc its the first time he’s heard donghyuck speak in such a desperate tone

he feels his ears growing red again

“uh.. yes?”

there’s a couple seconds of silence before donghyuck speaks in a quiet voice

“you asked me what i was right?”

mark just scoffs bc why is he even having this conversation at this point

he decides to answer anyway

“like every day but sure”

“go to the loft”

mark spends a few seconds contemplating whether he really should or not

he follows his gut instinct and makes his way to the loft

he’s only actually been up to the loft once just because it takes forever to get up there

when he climbs up the ladder and looks around at the empty space he shrugs

“well?”

“go up to the bookshelf on the far left”

mark feels like a child being directed right now but he follows the instructions anyway

he feels slightly nervous and a part of him wants to escape

its congested up here and he can feel the back of his neck grow sweaty like he’s been waiting for this moment for ages!!!

a part of him wants to run out of the house as quick as possible he’s not even sure what hes expecting

“now um.. move that red book on the end”

mark’s hand is s h a k i ng at this point and he slowly does what hes been told

suddenly????? the bookshelf starts moving

and then it hits mark

its a fake bookshelf thats actually meant to be a revolving door

mark is literally about to collapse bc he doesnt know whats waiting for him on the other side

when the door finally reaches the other side all he can do is stare

he feels like he’s in a different world, standing in the loft which resembles an open space apartment, with a tiny window and a mini kitchen on the side, a door which leads to what he assumes is a bathroom and a small bed

but that’s not what catches mark’s attention

standing in front of him is the most b e a u t i f u l boy he’s ever seen in his entire life

he doesn’t look much younger than mark himself, slightly shorter with dark red hair, golden skin and the biggest chocolate brown eyes he’s seen on a person

mark doesn’t know how to react

his mouth goes dry and the boy looks so frightened standing there in his own vicinity that mark’s afraid he’ll disappear if he touches him

“donghyuck?”

clearing his throat in an all too familiar voice, the boy speaks

“that would be me”

mark passes out

when he wakes up a while later, he’s on an unfamiliar bed and he looks around with narrowed eyes - realising that it wasn’t a dream and donghyuck is in fact a human living in a loft

mark looks around at the place and his jaw drops when he sees the wall opposite the bed is fULL of screens capturing cctv like images of almost every corner of the house

there are about three computer screens at the desk and mark is baffled

it looks like the bedroom of a teenage hacker

“oh good you’re up. i thought you were dead” donghyuck says, walking over to him from the kitchen with a plate of food

mark sits up slowly, his head is aching and hearing donghyuck’s voice like this, so clear, so close to him, so soft - he thinks he’ll pass out again

he feels himself growing warm when donghyuck takes a seat beside him on the bed, putting the plate on his lap before getting up

before he can, mark grabs his wrist “wait”

“you probably have a lot of questions” donghyuck speaks over him

“well, yeah”

“eat up we’ve got all night” donghyuck says

mark hasn’t even made eye contact with the other boy yet because he can’t bring himself to

donghyuck is intimidatingly beautiful

“i- what time is it?”

“9. you were out for hours”

“it’s been a long day” mark shrugs, taking a bite of the surprisingly good food donghyuck managed to cook up

so it turns out donghyuck’s family were the owners of the house but he’d been left an orphan as a teenager

in order to avoid being taken into social care, he made his own living space up in the loft so no one would find him - once he’d turned 18 they stopped looking for him and using his intelligent brain, he’d conjured up all the right devices to make it seem like the home was haunted by the ghosts of his family members

mark is baffled by the end of the explanation

“but the things moving around the house..”

“ever heard of remote controlled toys and simple physics?”

mark nods slowly and donghyuck just shrugs casually

later on donghyuck shows mark how he’d managed to keep up this strange lifestyle of his

he also finds out that donghyuck is not much younger than himself like he’d predicted - there are only a few months separating them

mark ends up spending the weekend at donghyuck’s place

when it’s sunday night and mark’s getting ready to leave, donghyuck actually walks him up the front door

it feels weird to say the least - hearing donghyuck’s voice like this and not projecting through the speakers he had hidden behind the walls

he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but donghyuck’s voice is sweeter than honey and he feels like melting every time the younger speaks to him in a quieter tone

“hey donghyuck” he says, once he reaches the door and turns to the younger

“hm?”

“you ever thought about just.. buying the house?”

donghyuck lets out a laugh

mark finds it condescending

“do you think i have the money to do that?”

“well since you’ve managed to maintain it so well - yeah” it turns out donghyuck does weird internet jobs from home where he gets paid a shit ton of cash through his online services - mark thinks its illegal but doesn’t want to say anything

donghyuck shoots him an amused smile and shakes his head

just as mark pulls the handle of the door, there’s a warm hand on his and all he can do is gulp as he meets donghyuck’s nervous eyes

“you won’t still try to sell it.. right?”

mark remembers his outburst a few days ago and he sends the younger a sympathetic smile, shaking his head slowly “i won’t”

“thanks” and then donghyuck’s hand is gone

mark lowkey feels sad at the loss of warmth but it returns when donghyuck asks him in the most v u l ne r a b l e voice

“will you be back?”

“i don’t know”

mark tries to ignore the heartbroken expression on donghyuck’s face while he’s driving home that night

the next morning at work mark feels miserable

mainly because it’s a monday but also bc of donghyuck

he’s just so conflicted and he doesnt know what to do

when he’s on his break and passes by taeil’s office, he hears taeil talking to one of his co-workers nakamoto yuta, a guy who transferred to the company a few months before mark joined

they’re talking about the house and most importantly they’re talking about mark

“boss just give me the house i’ll do it - i’ve already got a couple people i know who would be willing it purchase it despite the current situation”

“yuta you very well know this is mark’s-”

“boss it’s been over a month now and he’s scared off all his clients. please?”

there’s a pause before he hears a “alright. i’ll talk to mark tomorrow”

mark just p a n i c s because all he can think about is donghyuck

that night mark drives back to donghyuck’s place and the door is already open for him

“you came back” donghyuck sounds breathless - like he just ran down from the loft

- mark sees sparkles in his eyes and his stomach does a backflip

“i came back” he repeats, the smile on his face growing

when he’s later sat down on donghyuck’s bed, eating the leftovers from the dinner donghyuck’s just made, mark explains his work situation to him

the younger boy nods, trying desperately not to let the sadness show on his face but fails

“hey” mark says, bringing a hand to the younger’s cheek

it’s weird but neither of them say anything

donghyuck thinks mark has the softest!! hands

“i won’t let them sell it” he says in the s o f t e s t voice and donghyuck wants to melt

instead he just scoffs and shrugs mark’s hand away

“if anything, i won’t let them sell it” he says and mark laughs

deep down they both know it’s not selling the house that’s the issue at hand; it’s mark not having an excuse to keep coming back

the atmosphere is weird and tense when mark leaves that evening

donghyuck walks him down to the door again and mark has the urge to hold has hand and tell him it’ll b ok

just as mark’s about to get into his car donghyuck calls for him

when mark turns around donghyuck is suddenly !! in his arms!! and wow! soft and warm donghyuck!!

about a hundred alarm bells go off in mark’s head and his heart is POUNDING but all he does is bring his arms around the younger boy and tighten the hug

when mark arrives at his own place he thinks that donghyuck doesn’t just sound like honey, but smells sweet like it too

he decides honey is his favorite smell

the next day at work mark isn’t surprised when yuta greets him enthusiastically in the morning

he also isn’t surprised when both he and yuta are called into taeil’s office

mark has to act fast - he can’t let yuta take this from him

he’s been up all night thinking about this, thinking about donghyuck

so when taeil’s about to speak up, mark cuts him off:

“boss i want to purchase the property for myself”

both taeil and yuta’s jaws drop and he’s pretty sure he hears jaehyun gasp from outside the door - the office wasn’t exactly a large place

“you want to do what”

“yes. i’ve thought this through and yeah. as a customer, i want to buy it. i’ve already spent so much time at it it practically already feels like home” donghyuck feels like home

“i’ve already thought about selling my place for a while now anyway - and i don’t think anyone else would be more willing to buy this house more than i am”

taeil and yuta stay silent

eventually taeil agrees but hands over the property to yuta to sell to mark

when they all come to a deal or whatever mark is dragged aside by jaehyun

“is this why you spent so long there? you wanted it for yourself?” poor bb he is so confused

mark just smiles and nods “yeah, guess i did”

mark doesn’t return to the house for another few days - he’s gotta tell his parents about his abrupt decision to sell his place and purchase a new one

since he lives in a different town from his parents, they offer to come with his younger brother jisung to help with the move out - he tells them its ok and that he has lots of helping hands here and he’ll call them over when he’s settled in

mark heads to the house towards the end of the week, the contract behind his back as he unlocks the door with his keys

“hey spirit - come out wherever you are!” he calls out playfully

to his surprise donghyuck’s already on his way down - trying not to smile at the sight of the man in front of him

“mark lee”

“donghyuck” he says, unable to contain his excitement as he holds up the paper in front of the younger

donghyuck squints at it, confused for a moment before his eyes widen

“YOU DID WHAT?????////”

“i bought this house!”

donghyuck doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry

“what the hell you just bought my house?!”

mark’s slightly confused bc he thought donghyuck would be happy

donghyuck looks like he’s abt to burst into tears and mark the awkward turtle starts panicking again

“i - i thought it would be better than a random person buying it??”

“nO because a random person would never buy this house for as long as im alive and now yOU just came out of nowhere and TOOK POSSESSION OF IT??!?!?”

donghyuck’s a lil mad bc he feels like the house is all he’s got and now its gone and he’s mad at himself for letting his guard down in front of mark and getting so attached to mark and falling for mark and he doesn’t even realise he’s saying this all aloud until mark stares at him with wide eyes

“you what?”

silence

“you do realise not saying anything won’t work anymore since i can actually see you now, right?”

silence

“donghyuck”

there’s a quiet mumble “sowhatifilikeyou”

mark feels like he’s about to comBUST

donghyuck’s face is literally the color of a tomato and he just shrinks and he’s so cute mark wants to kiss him

so he does

donghyuck’s lips taste like the warmth of the summer, the confused and nervousness of their feelings, but most importantly they taste sweet - just like honey, just like donghyuck

when mark parts from the kiss first, donghyuck’s fingers curl softly into the material of his shirt, he presses his forehead against the younger’s

“i’m sorry i did this all without telling you - i just. i did what i felt was right. this feels right, donghyuck. being with you feels right.” mark’s just so nERVOUS and half of what he says comes out so shaky until donghyuck responds quietly

“i want to be with you”

mark wants to pass out

this time however, he doesn’t

anyways~~

time skip a couple of weeks

donghyuck moves out from the loft and they settle into the house properly

after much insistence donghyuck removes the cameras from around the house except for the exterior and they turn one of the spare bedrooms into a little study for donghyuck where he can do his “illegal business”

mark suggests him getting out a bit more and donghyuck reluctantly agrees

mark takes donghyuck out on dates to the movie theatre and out for breakfast

donghyuck is so nervous in public and is practically glued to mark’s side the whole time it’s adorable

they’re both living so d om e s t i ca l ly its sickening

at mark’s housewarming he tells his family and friends that he met donghyuck through tinder

jaehyun doesn’t believe him bc donghyuck’s voice sounds so familiar but he doesn’t know where from - he chooses to drop it though bc the couple in front of him look so happy so he goes to bother sicheng

“hey loser” donghyuck walks out from his study room one sunday afternoon when mark’s on the couch watching tv

“yeah??” mark lowers the volume

“cough up your rent for the month - we gotta pay the water bill cause your fatass won’t stop showering every two minutes”

mark almost chokes on his spit

“me?”

donghyuck nods, flopping down to take a seat beside him

“idk if you’ve noticed but im the owner of this house if anything you should be coughing up rent”

donghyuck snorts “owner in name. we all know who this house rly belongs to”

mark gives him the stink eye “listen you little shi-mph”

before he can begin his string of insults donghyuck’s already climbed onto his lap and his lips are on mark’s

and they live happily ever after !!!!

#markhyuck #mark #haechan #donghyuck #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #fluff #au #markhyuck au #otp cries #taeil the boss #jaehyun and winwin the cutest co-workers #johnten #but only minor #headcanon

1K notes · View notes

idolapps · 7 years

Text

OOC INFO

NAME/ALIAS, PRONOUNS, TIMEZONE:

Crissy // She/Her // PST.

RESERVATION:

N/A!

MEMBER PROFILE

FACECLAIM:

Lee Hyunwoo, my smol son.

NAME/STAGENAME:

Han Kiseok and he doesn’t have a stage name unless you want to count the p l e t h o r a of things that idols, managers, facility members and higher ups call him while him while he’s running their errands, in the which case we have:

“Bambi”

“Kiki’s Delivery Service

“You clumsy, incompetent fool”

“Idiot Chicken Boy”

“Kibum”

“EXO’s Minseok” ( does anyone actually know his name? )

“Why did we hire you anyways?”

aaaaand my personal favorite:

“YA!!!!!! YOU!!!!!! WHERE IS MY COFFEE HUH??!!!죽을래 !!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!” !!!!!（╬ಠ益ಠ) !!!!!

BIRTHDATE/AGE:

Nineteen years old. July 8th. Cancer.

COMPANY/POSITION:

Intern for Crystal Entertainment.

HEIGHT/WEIGHT:

N/A. Baby boy is not relevant enough for dis, smh.

TRAINING PERIOD/JOINING YEAR:

I’m not even sure if this is relevant, but if it means anything, Kiseok’s probably been with the company for a few months or something? Half a year?

INTERESTING FACTS:

//cracks knuckles (none of this is even important, but i thought it would be fun?)

He is the admin of several KPOP fan blogs on tumblr.

I’m pretty sure he broke his leg singing into some shampoo and trying to replicate Sweetheart’s choreo in the shower. RIP.

Kiseok’s very allergic to cats, but he saw this cat on the street and fed it and it wouldn’t stop following him, so he took it in. Her name is Pepero and he’s always sneezing and dying because of her but he can’t get rid of her because he’s soft.

He does not know how to drive and bikes to work everyday.

He lives with this super ornery old woman who runs a dress shop. He ran into her shop when he was fifteen trying to hide from these bullying punks who were trying to beat him up, but once he ran in there a few more times and she realized his home was so broken one could hardly call it a home at all, she took him in. She says she only likes him because he does her taxes, but she adores him … her mahjong buddies tell him everything.

Super bi, but honestly can only stutter his way through half a sentence before the words collapse on his tongue and he gets too flustered so, really, what’s it matter?

It’s really funny if you get him drunk because he’s super shy, but he’s also a lightweight and a really wild drunk. Don’t do it. ( Do it and videotape it. )

STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

STRENGTHS:

He has a really high IQ. His mind pretty much works like a racehorse even though his mouth stutters almost every word he’s ever said. Kiseok has maintained remarkable grades throughout the entirety of his academic career and has been called Google/Jeopardy because he is full of intellectual but useless information.

He is a notoriously quick learner because of this high intellect? Picked up a lot of the choreo for the trainees and the idol groups while he looks on and knows pretty much everyone’s names and stats???

I don’t even know if this counts, but he’s really, really kind? Like he genuinely cares a lot about everyone and is always willing to help people. He’s really sweet and lovely even though he is 100% nervous and awkward all the time. Basically he will go very far out of his way to help people.

REALLY GOOD DANCER!!!!! Singing is quite pleasant too, to tell you the truth, but really he is a very gifted dancer, like, if you saw him you’d be pretty impressed. Dancing is the only thing that makes him feel better and he’s looked up to idol groups like the ones in CE all his life and longs to be apart of them very clandestinely…but alas.

WEAKNESSES:

Kiseok has chronic social anxiety that developed from how poorly treated he’s been basically his whole life. It leaves him, at times, breathless and stupid, but he tries his best?

Very, very shy as a result and prone to panic attacks. :(. He has a hard time talking to people and nervously rambles and stumbles his way through conversations. I can’t even imagine someone trying to hit on him, he’d die.

Having that little faith in his abilities and being that freaked out of the times means that he had to throw away his lifelong dream of being an idol because he can’t dance or sing in front of people and so he joined CE as an intern just to be close to thing he loves. :(((((

HUGE PUSHOVER. He’s scared of disappointing people or them being sad so he’ll do anything you ask him to. It’s also his job as an intern to accommodate people, but he does have to do a lot of not so cool and strenuous stuff behind the scenes that you won’t hear him complain once about even if it’s killing him a little.

BIO/PERSONALITY:

THE FIRST LESSON YOU EVER LEARNED WAS TO HATE YOURSELF.

You were born too early, but for your mother it was too l a t e. The smell of death hung limply in the air: whodunnit? Fate in the hospital with a premature baby and case of internal bleeding gone awry. She looked like the crime scene but played the victim, leaving you as the murder weapon.

Surprise: Y o u dunnit.

Like the jaws of life, two hands bravely descended into the carnage and like Moses parted the vast, impossible sea of red, plucking you out and polishing your soiled body like silverware ( as if somehow cleansing your body would in turn, cleanse your s o u l . ) When they were finished, they put you in a blanket and her in a body bag.

CRAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.

You were too young to properly recall the the itty bitty gritty details…

…But no matter: while you might not remember, ( your father never forgot. )

…

THE ALCOHOL MADE THE PAIN BETTER, BUT HIS TEMPER WORSE.

You spent your childhood in f e a r, towered over, dominated, quivering, shivering, dodging acid words, punches, bottles…but you weren’t fast, you weren’t reactive, you wheezed and sneezed, broken before he could even lay a finger on you. And from your miserable existence in that ramshackle house, there was only one escape —

…

YOU CALLED THEMSELVES I D O L S BECAUSE THEY WERE YOURS.

From this unforgiving reality, you only escape were these big stars that graced your tiny screen each day and you watched them like religion, You admired the way that they carried themselves; heads held high, moves exquisite, perfect, confident words always poised on their lips and after years of feeling like a lost puzzle piece, you finally found somewhere to b e l o n g. When you danced, everything was okay. Music soothed you like medicine and created a feeling that made you feel, for once, i n v i n c i b l e. Just like that you were hooked, just like that you knew

….You always knew someday you were going to be a [ k p o p s t a r ],

( “You think that Crystal Entertainment would hire someone like you? You're nothing, Dancer Boy. You're worthless. You're a l o s e r! And the CE doesn't hire losers.” )

BUT FIRST YOU WOULD BE A [ L A U G H I N G S T O C K ]

…

You soon found that school was no better than home. The kids in your class were viciously cruel and the bullying they administered left your heart and outsides black and blue. Up and down the uneven streets, they chased your cottontail as you ran huffing and puffing and crying and clutching your collapsing chest like a lifeline. They were right in a way. Rock beat scissors but anxiety beat e v e r y t h i n g. You were too nervous, too timid and could barely utter a few generous sentences before they collapsed on your tongue like forgotten civilizations.

BUT WHERE YOUR LIPS WERE WEAK YOUR MIND WAS STRONG

…

You were always good in school — great, even. You skipped grades and your dad never cared, other people’s father’s handing you prestigious awards on stage. Your mind worked overtime and retained information like a sponge, arranging it in intricate and complex formations that dropped jaws and astounded people. They called you “nerd,”, “dork”, “geek”, “f r e a k” but now they would have to call you Han Kiseok, Staff Member of Crystal Entertainment.

YOU WISHED YOU COULD SEE THOSE BOYS HORRIBLE FACES NOW.

…

It wasn’t ideal. You still looked at the CE entertainers with shiny, glossy, fanatical eyes, worshipping them like gods, but you were happy — blessed to just be their Ariel and a part of their world. So while they went out on stage, singing and dancing, you helped make everything work behind the scenes, oversized lanyard, talking too fast, tripping over your words, fetching pastries and turning out paperwork like t r i c k s

— because in this world there are two kinds of people:

Important People™

and people who get those Important People™ C O F F E E.

#male #crystal #submission

0 notes