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dom--minnie · 3 years

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Three’s a Party

Summary: There aren’t supposed to be secrets in relationships. Unfortunately, Felix currently has three. One is let out with no problem. The second creates complications no one could have foreseen. The third, unknown to him, he isn’t the only one that holds the same secret.

Word count: 9.3k

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Content: non-idol au, established reader and felix, gender-neutral afab reader, felix is nervous, chan is a bit of a dummy, felix wears skirts, threesome, switch! reader, switch! felix, dom! chan, mutual pining, slight lack of communication, threesome arrangement with kink and safeword discussions included, daddy kink, piv, protected sex, unprotected sex, MxM intimacy, (slight) size kink, (slight) strength kink, hand kink, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names, creampie, slight voyeurism and exhibitionism, accidental confessions, polyamory negotiations

Taglist: @solistired @hyunsluvv

a/n: I only technically lied about the release date. Yes, I said Saturday but I also said the 18th which is today for me still, so it’s fine! I hope I made the wait worth it for anyone interested and for everyone else, voila

Relationships aren't meant to have secrets. Felix technically has several but he keeps them under wraps. The most damning one... one that he would never reveal except under the direst of circumstances. The other ones are far less destructive but are arguably more embarrassing.

You live in blissful ignorance of all of these, at least for now. Until Felix decides he should tell you something, considering how often he thinks about them. So one day you walk into your shared bedroom with Felix he's wearing a short, blue skirt. Your face is neither positive nor negative and Felix spins, skirt flaring, staring downwards still.

"And what's the occasion here, darling?" You question.

Felix makes a confused noise in his throat and looks up to you just a little more.

"Why have I received such a beautiful gift today? You look amazing, Fe."

Felix leans forward to kiss your nose and giggles when your hands roam under the skirt and squeeze his cheeks.

"I've wanted to wear a skirt in the bedroom for a while, but wasn't really sure how you'd react."

"Awwww baby, never be worried about anything like this. I might be confused but I love you so I'll never react badly."

Your comforting words are genuine and Felix wonders how far they truly reach. Would you say the same if he wanted to have a threesome with one of his closest friends? Or said he had a crush on, was practically halfway in love with, said friend? It's not what tonight is about and the thoughts fade when your lips connect.

You're so, so gentle with him and Felix sinks into you. Felix's wandering hands spur your own and suddenly it's like you're horny teenagers again that can't get enough of each other. Your hand slips back under the skirt and the easy access is fun, especially if he plans to wear nothing under it like he is now. Easy access to start jerking him off, and you happily do so, keeping your mouth pressed against his.

Even with the anxiety Felix must have been imagining a number of situations with how hard he is in your hand. A sigh leaves his mouth as he rests his head on your shoulder. With one bite in your neck and only one sentence all of the power in the situation flows back to him.

"I want you to sit on my face and then ride me, doll."

Any stress you may have had is gone after that.

Similar situations happen several more times over the next few months. Felix either has a skirt on and is obviously wearing nothing under it. Or he changes into a skirt with nothing under it when it’s clear you’re going farther tonight. Each time you’re caught a little off guard by how truly pretty he is. Lee Felix is sunshine, rainbows, and starlight of course but it’s like the skirt gives him a little extra confidence to shine brighter for you.

So one hurdle down, only two more to go, great. Felix has never been so glad to have incognito mode with the number of phrases he googles related to 'how to bring up wanting a threesome with your significant other.'

It's honestly not that useful, as the so-called advice was generic things he could've gotten from anyone. 'Trust them and they'll trust you' or 'do it with someone you both trust' like thanks he knows all of this already.

Your next take-out dinner and movie night brings some strange behaviour from Felix. He's quiet where normally he'd be commenting on these extraordinarily stupid characters. When one of them completely ignores the obvious thing and Felix doesn't react in the slightest you know he's not paying attention at all.

He certainly pays attention when you stop the movie and straddle his lap. Your hands cup his face and your forehead rests on his while your eyes meet.

"What's on your mind, Pixie? Don't try to avoid it either, I know."

Your gentle compassion almost makes Felix want to spill everything. It all bubbles up to the tip of his tongue but then he thinks of the possible disgust or heartbreak and pushes most of it back down.

"You know how you said I don't have to be uncomfortable bringing up anything about... bedroom life?"

You giggle at the euphemism and how adorably shy Felix gets about it when not in the act. Regardless, a hum of assent vibrates your throat.

"I've been thinking about having a threesome." He blurts then squeezes his eyes shut, not allowing your reaction to reach his eyes.

The small boop your finger leaves on his nose leads him to open his eyes. Nothing about your expression is negative and you look at him as fondly as ever.

"Do you-"

"Chan."

A bright, fond laugh bubbles over your lips.

"Sorry love, you just answered so quickly. Sure, we both trust him. We can talk to him about it and... arrange a day."

Arrange sounds more formal than you intend but that's what it is. With the weight off of his mind, Felix is able to make fun of the new characters not seeing the plot right in front of them.

Chan knows this is a bad idea, he even cares that it's a bad idea, and yet he agrees. Backing out at any time is always an option, neither of you will be mad. It doesn't matter because he won't. Even if it hurts he will take the one chance he may ever get to screw around with both of his crushes.

There was no pretense of a normal hangout. You texted Chan that you wanted to talk about something. When you all sit down Felix ends up doing the talking about it since it was his idea in the first place. You both want to have a threesome with him.

It takes all of Chan's willpower not to coo at the blush that spreads across Felix’s face and ears. Also, a significant amount of brainpower to agree with the right amount of excitement. Not too little that you think he's unsure or doesn't want it wholeheartedly. But not too much that you are suspicious about any underlying feelings or motives he could have.

Really, you're just thinking about your boyfriend and how cute he is. Not anything against Chan but you love Felix with every cell in your body and it pours out of you often. He can see it from a mile away and doesn’t mind because he’d love to be doing the same thing. Looking at Felix with all the fondness in the world that lets each side know that everything’s going to be ok. But alas, a threesome will have to do for now. Or forever, honestly.

Then the fun part of it comes: interests. What does Chan have that he likes to do, and would like to do with you. Vice versa, what are you comfortable with and want to do with a sudden, if trusted, third-person present.

"I'm wearing a skirt," Felix says.

You smile at how easily he's able to say it, a stark contrast to before. You know that it will give the same confidence on the day of all of this as well. Surprise flits over Chan’s face but he just nods and doesn’t say anything more.

"I want to dominate both of you." Chan brings it up first, any type of power play and dynamics.

You and Felix look at each other then back at him and both nod excitedly. Chan already has strong leadership qualities, especially around all of the boys so really this makes sense. It will be very attractive for him to be giving you full orders and expecting them to be followed. Even thinking about it makes your brain work overtime and you have to physically shake yourself out of it.

"Felix and I… we'll just see how it works out. But we’ll both listen to you, for sure. Sound good?"

You have to check with Chan if he's going to be in charge of both of you. A quick look between both of you and then he nods.

A moment goes by and you look at Felix with a smirk on your face. He frantically shakes his head before you turn back to a visibly confused Chan.

"Felix over here has a strength kink. Wants someone to manhandle him a bit." You drawl and Felix doesn't even mock tackle you.

"Yeah, well you have a size kink! Wanting someone to look down at you and hands fitting around your limbs."

Felix sticks his tongue out at you as you feel your cheeks heat up to the temperature of the sun. Perhaps Chan fits you better than first anticipated. Strength and size in one, not to mention some other interests he slots right into.

"Any kinks you both have and aren't about to expose to me?"

You and Felix easily speak in unison.

"Praise and hands."

The moment you say that Chan reaches his hands out and lays them vertically so you can see the incredibly veiny backs. Imagining those fingers in any of your wet holes has you readjusting your legs and you can hear Felix do the same next to you.

Felix clears his throat in an obvious attempt to quickly move along from that.

"Anything you have in mind, Channie?"

The nickname is affectionate and if you didn't know better you'd think the tips of Chan's ears are flushed under his curls.

"Praise for me is good, no matter who’s giving or receiving it. I like nicknames or pet names, titles as well."

When it becomes clear Chan isn't elaborating you both lean forward in a clear gesture for him to continue.

"Ok. Baby, bunny, angel, beautiful. For myself? I dunno, choose some. Particular titles especially."

You all have flushed cheeks as this is becoming a reality, hearing Chan say these things out loud. Hopefully, you'll both be saying some of them as well. One title sticks in your mind and you’ll just have to test whether he’s into that or not.

"Safewords." You state and both men nod. "We use the colour system generally. Green, yellow, red.”

"Sure," Chan easily agrees. It only slightly surprises you that he knows, and has probably used that exact safeword system before.

You lean forward to rest your cheek on your palm.

"I mean... I think that's everything? We can have a phone call or hangout if there's anything else."

Okay but... when? When are we gonna do this?" Felix points out.

It had gotten lost in actually arranging but the goal of this was actually enacting it all so that fact was a bit important.

"Like 2 weeks from now?" Chan says.

You consider it, a fair amount of time to go but not too far either. Enough time to mentally prepare but not to freak out fully and leave the country. You look at Chan then Felix who voices his agreement.

"Alright then, Saturday in 2 weeks. Come over for dinner, Chan. We can ease into it that way."

You stand and Felix follows. Heading to the door you both give Chan a hug, Felix longer and tighter than yours as usual.

You step out and turn around to face Chan again.

"See you later, daddy." You wink.

Felix purposefully makes his voice lower and repeats the playful words. It's obvious he tries to hide it but Chan shivers at Felix's voice. You only knew to look because he has the same effect on you.

The two weeks pass entirely as normal. A couple hangouts with various groups of the guys and knowledge of the future threesome doesn't invade your mind. The day before you thought Felix would be visibly stressed already but he seems entirely fine.

He seems fine to you, but Felix is good at hiding his emotions if need be. And he is freaking the fuck out. There came some point where it really settled in that this was a plan, it was happening, and it was going to be tomorrow. From that point on it had hardly left his head. Hiding his feelings while fucking around with the man? Is that even possible for a Lee Felix? It doesn’t really matter because it’s already happening, so really something is going to happen and he is determined not to ruin it.

To calm himself down there’s a number of things he can do, yet he chooses the one that wouldn’t make sense to most people. Calling his best friend, the slight hyperactive squirrel man, Han Jisung. Jisung is adept at the two things that can bring Felix out of almost any type of nervous state, whether with genuine comfort, or with chaotic distraction.

Yet when he calls, Jisung seems to know something is different.

“Soooooo, what is up my dude? How have you been?” Jisung sings.

“Ah, just a bit nervous for no reason and I know you’re not doing anything.”

Jisung is silent for a couple moments longer than the normal, puzzling.

“You sure it’s nothing? You’ve been…. extra. The past week, especially.”

Felix goes over the last times they’ve hung out together, especially as a group of 9. There’s nothing out of the ordinary that he thinks Jisung may count as ‘extra’, whatever that even means.

“Extra what, Ji? What are you even talking about?” Felix laughs, assuming Jisung will too and they can just move on.

“You’ve been staring at Chan like way more than usual, dude. I thought it was ridiculous before, but now… he’s either denser than a brick or ignores it.”

Felix’s mouth drops open and he’s silent for nearly half a minute. Other people have noticed how often he stares at Chan? Jisung noticed how much he stares at Chan? This is an entire disaster. And if Chan ignores his stares, then what does that mean. Actually, no, if he goes too far down that route then he’s going to chicken out of all of your plans and he wouldn’t dare ruin it.

“Are you the only one who noticed?” Felix asks hesitantly, mouthing please in hopes that if someone else has noticed as well, that it’ll just go away.

“No… Jeongin and Seungmin are wayyyyy too observant for that, the little demons. Minho, too. I haven’t heard from the others but if I’ve noticed then…” Jisung trails off. He’s not the least observant in the group. That title goes to Felix and Chan themselves. But he and everyone else would put him low on the list, so if he knows then almost everyone else probably does too. Well, shit.

“I’ll only tell you if you promise with your whole heart not to tell anyone else.”

Felix’s heart is pounding and it thrums loudly in his ears. Is he really about to tell someone else about this? Jisung, no less.

“I’m concerned but yeah, of course. Unless it’s a crime.”

Felix forces out a laugh, and he knows Jisung can tell but neither of them comment on it.

“So… maybe I have a bit of crush on Chan. It’s fine, it’ll go away eventually and I can just move on, but for now. I have crush feelings.”

Jisung is silent and Felix has to check if he hung up at some point.

“So you stare at your ‘just crush’ like he put the moon up himself? Not believing that or a second. But I understand now, so whatever. You gonna tell them or…?”

Felix lets out a real laugh this time, then scoffs like Jisung’s proposed robbing a bank tomorrow.

“And have them break up with me? No thanks, I’ll just live with it.”

This time its Jisung scoffing so hard his throat will be sore.

“You’re an idiot. If they love you, and we both know they do, then it’ll be fine. Be honest about your feelings, it’ll only make you stronger.”

Felix considers it, turning the idea over in his mind. Inevitably, his mind turns to your possible reactions. His dreams come first, the ones where you somehow like Chan as well and Chan likes you both. Or the ones where you’re ok with it. Or any of the ones where Chan even likes him back. But of course, the more likely reality. Where you’re uncomfortable or disgusted. Or want to… nope.

“I’ll think about it. Thanks Ji.”

“Sure man, anytime. Popcorns going so I’m gonna dip. Good luck.”

Felix is left in the silence of the bedroom to ponder. They both know he won’t do it but the wonderful fantasies make it seem possible. Some wonderful fantasies can come true, somehow.

The stress explodes in the morning. Felix is out of bed when you wake up and when you exit the apartment is practically sparkling. From top to bottom, you’d believe this house had never been lived in if your pictures and souvenirs weren’t everywhere. There's also a wonderful cookie smell coming from the kitchen, and it draws you in. Whenever Felix bakes it floods through your apartment and makes it seem like a home. Cheesy, yes, but it’s really what he does to you.

Felix's back is to you when you come in the kitchen and you wrap your arms around his stomach. He lets out a small squeak of surprise before giggling, face lighting up at you being awake finally.

"You do know Chan's been here before right? You didn't have to do this."

Felix sighs and turns to face you, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"I know I didn't have to. I'm just nervous and all this kept my mind off of it for a bit."

You coo at your adorable boyfriend and peck his pink, pouting lips.

"No matter what happens he's just Chan. You're still you, I'm still me. It'll be ok, Fe."

The sigh Felix lets out has a different meaning to you both. You assume it's clearing his mind and re-centreing himself. Really it’s thoughts of how, at the end of the day Chan is never just Chan for him, but this is reality and not his ideal world. He doesn’t get to have two attractive partners to come home to every day. The timer goes off behind him and the reminder makes the smell of cookies flood your nose and mind again.

"Join me on the couch when you're done, baby. I'm gonna work on some stuff for a bit."

The reminder of cookies existing every timer goes off is delightful, and really the only reason timers should exist ever. Most of the way through the batter, Felix dances into the living room and feeds you one, delightful as always. He’s beautiful like this. The lingering stress showing on his face from the morning is entirely gone. The blinds are finally open for a reason and sunlight reflects off your sunshine.

The day passes easily once it begins and Felix is done practically vibrating out of his skin. In the early afternoon, he even falls asleep with his head in your lap for a while. Looking at him is like looking at a sleeping kitten, curled up and peaceful.

It gets later, a bit darker and you pull up the recipe on your laptop. The kitchen barely fits 2 people but you and Felix work well enough together that there are few problems. It’s nice to just… coexist with someone else so peacefully and naturally. The door rings and you and Felix glance at each other, for just a bit too long before he patters away.

They both pop their heads around the corner and Chan joins you both, squishing the kitchen space even more. He gives you both soft kisses on your foreheads, smiling and greeting you quietly. As soon as he does you and Felix look at each other and nod, kissing his cheeks at the same time. His cheeks flare bright red and his eyes widen but he quickly recovers. Expression settling and laughing, even if his ears and cheeks don’t stop burning for quite a while. Then you notice the box, probably a dessert that you won't be getting to tonight. Or… you will get to dessert technically, it just won’t be any of the typical sugar.

It proceeds normally, you may even forget what your plans are for a minute. But as plates start getting emptier Felix is the first to tense up. Chan follows soon after but you manage to stay the calmest, at least on the outside.

Chan puts his hand on your knee first and you stand. Suddenly, Felix's grasp comes from your other side and tugs you towards him. He looks so… innocent that you just can't help but tangle your fingers together. At the same time, he tilts his head up towards you, waiting for a kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair and press your lips against his.

You both turn to Chan after and he's sitting up, completely straight and still. You round the table and he puts his hand on your hip. It doesn't escape your notice about how much of you it covers and you resist looking down to see it.

"Can we kiss you?" You ask, breath fanning across his lips.

He should say no. Say no, say no, saynosaynosay-

"Yes." He says with false ease.

You lean in and he lets you lead it, simply resting his hands on you. Felix comes up behind you and rests his head on your shoulder, watching.

Chan briefly bites your bottom lip but you pull away before too much happens in the kitchen. Before you can move Felix switches places with you and throws his weight against Chan. It's like he was prepared and his hands go around Felix's back. You take a good long look at them before playing with Felix's hair and taking your own turn to watch them.

"We should go to your bedroom." Chan pants out, eyes blown wide when he opens them.

"You heard him, baby boy. Follow him."

You giggle when Felix whines at the pet name.

"You're our baby boy tonight, aren't you?" You tease.

Chan feels something flare inside of him when you use such possessive words, especially "our" anything. In any other situation, he knows it would be "your" and it kills him. He wants so much more, but he cannot either of you entirely in the way he wants so much. It's not a controlling type, simply a statement. Felix is yours as you are his, and neither of you are Chan's.

The moment you reach the room the door is closed and you are pinned onto it. You watch Felix disappear to change but Chan makes sure your attention is back to him quickly. He kisses you again, but harder this time.

Felix feels like this is a dream. Maybe he's finally achieved lucid dreaming. Because he's standing in the bathroom changing his skirt and about to have a threesome with his significant other and best friend/crush. That can't be real. So he's ready to wake up and tell you about the totally wild dream he had. But not the feelings, because those are still very real.

He never wakes up. Instead, he pulls the skirt on and walks out to see you pinned against the door and Chan nipping at your neck.

When Felix appears your attention is immediately split between them. It goes back to Chan pretty quickly when he starts whispering in your ear.

"I certainly know what I want to do. First, I'll watch the 2 pretty kittens in front of me for a while. A pretty picture being painted right in front of me. I'll keep the rest to myself for now. Go kiss your pretty boyfriend and give me a show, alright sweetheart?"

He backs away slowly and you go to Felix, whispering in his ear as well.

"He's going to watch and wants a good show from us first. So let's give him one, huh?"

Felix throws his arms over your shoulders and nods. Before you can tug him in he looks at Chan who nods as well before pulling out your desk chair.

Your kiss with Felix is already heated and messy, the extra thoughts of an audience and pleasing that audience in mind. It moves faster than you normally would when in the bedroom. Though the tension of the whole day, and especially of the dinner may be enough to make up for that.

Your hands roam furiously around each other and each time your lips break apart you each let out a gasp before diving back in. Felix starts walking you towards the bed with slow steps and flips it around so you fall onto his lap. Before he can do anything you fall to the ground on your knees.

When you flip up his skirt and see nothing underneath you can hear Chan groan from his spot. Immediately you sink your mouth down, gagging just slightly as he hits the back of your mouth. Taking a second to breathe, you look up at Felix who already has his eyes closed. When you stop his eyes flutter back open and his hands go to your hair, resting there with no intention of pulling. You bob your head slowly, not taking him all the way in every time. A couple times you try to glance at Chan in the corner but he’s moved farther than what you can see. So, your attention is focused on Felix who’s very entertaining and responsive on his own.

It starts as low moans that tell you he’s feeling good but you’re already looking for the high whines that you know he gives out. You hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue in that way you know he likes, and the low groans turn into higher moans. They’re quieter than normal and you can tell he’s holding back, which is understandable, but you want him to let go.

Your head gradually bobs faster and faster, with Felix’s moans getting higher and more frequent. With one particularly deep dip, he hits your throat and a loud whine breaks free. You do it again and again, letting Felix lose control. His hands twist in your hair, still not enough to cause any pain to you, but his hips stay still to let you set the pace. You know Felix is close and you both want it and are both ready to receive it, even so early in the night.

“No, no, little one. He’s not cumming yet.” Chan suddenly speaks, tone firm.

Felix whines and you make a disappointed noise and slow down, not giving him enough of anything anymore.

Felix pushes you off of him with a shuddering breath and a poorly concealed whine. After a moment of confusion, you switch places with him. He’s on his knees and starts peeling off your pants, with the noises of Chan shifting in the background. With every inch of skin that is revealed under your pants, he makes sure to kiss it, all the way down to your ankles. He pulls down your underwear after, with less reverence and more impatience this time.

Before he can dive in, as he so clearly wishes to, Chan clears his throat across the room.

“Felix.” Said man perks up and turns towards Chan, eager to please. “Turn them towards me and let me have a look, won’t you baby?”

You obediently don’t move and let Felix turn your body, spreading your legs as well. Even without looking down, you know that you’re soaked already. Chan’s groan confirms it and you shift impatiently. Felix waits though, until Chan nods, before turning you back and getting his mouth on you.

All things considered, he’s gentle but the build-up and tension makes each bit of pleasure like a shot of electricity through your body. He licks eagerly, tasting you and making you twitch. Your hands go his hair less nicely than his did before. You tug at the strands, which only makes him moan into you which makes your hips buck into his mouth. Each small sound from Chan makes you want to see and feel him but you wait, indulging in Felix as is.

Felix knows exactly how you want it and with every minute that passes your whines get louder and with each flick of his tongue your brain gets fuzzier. Chan is taking a relatively hands-off approach for now but even with his seemingly infinite patience, he must want more. It’s hard to focus on that when Felix is eagerly slurping at your wetness and making you want to ride his face. You test the waters by rolling your hips once, twice, three times. When neither man stops you, you roll them incessantly.

With no prior experience, Chan somehow seems to know exactly when to stop you from getting too close.

“Felix, stop.”

Felix eagerly obeys, and you whine loudly in disappointment. One look from Chan cuts you off and you resolve to not protest again when he finally walks over. He stands above both of you but looks down with fondness and not scorn.

“How should we do this, pretty pets?”

You don’t even look at Felix before boldly speaking to him, knowing it was mostly a rhetorical question.

“Fuck me! Please?” Your sudden boldness is tempered by the way that Chan looks at you and you dip your head down.

Felix visibly brightens once his fuzzy brain puzzles out that he’ll probably get to be back in your mouth. He’s the first one onto the bed and you follow, Chan coming up behind you. Your kiss with Felix is interrupted by Chan tugging your shirt over your head and shoulders. He pulls it off and you turn around to pull his own clothes off, bringing Felix over as well.

Chan laughs when you both eagerly tug at his own clothes, trying to pull everything off at once.

“Slow down little ones. You’ll get it all soon.”

You and Felix stop and stare when his shirt comes off and you are suddenly very aware of him. It isn’t that Chan hides how muscular he is, just that you didn’t pay too much attention to it before. Now, you’re certainly paying a lot of attention. It’s broken when Chan goes to Felix’s shirt and you’re as excited as usual to reveal what’s underneath.

Just the sight of them alone nearly has you drooling and your hands run over their bodies at the same time, hardly believing they’re both in front of you. There’s hardly a chance to admire them as they both want to see you as well and pull your shirt up, one hand on either side.

Chan’s hands get on you and dip lower, lower and all the way down to between your thighs. You shiver and watch his face, waiting for his next move. Felix’s hands go up, to your nipples. His warm hands on you makes you shiver but still, you watch Chan who just is not moving. It makes you want to whine and beg but you know, almost for sure, that he’d disapprove. So you wait. The light touches on your nipples makes you whimper and moan occasionally and Chan watches you.

With a slowness that makes you want to scream, he pushes one finger inside. Even the barest feeling of being full makes you shudder and sigh in relief. After a few thrusts of his fingers where he meets no resistance, he pushes a second one in. You make a high noise in your throat and lean back against Felix’s chest, who takes the easy opportunity to kiss along your neck and shoulder.

The sensitivity of being so close from Felix’s mouth is still there and it has you moaning louder than you normally would. One of your hands reaches out and grabs Chan’s hand that is laying on his thigh. He doesn’t stop you so you bring it to your mouth and suck on two of his fingers. Felix lifts his head and groans at the sight, Chan’s pretty hands in your beautiful mouth.

Both men seem to thoroughly enjoy just playing with and teasing you, and it feels so good that you honestly don’t want them to stop. But you’re also craving so much more. With reluctance, you pull Chan’s fingers out of your mouth and whine at him.

“Daddy, please!”

He raises an eyebrow at your insistent tone and pushes another finger into you. It makes your head fall back onto Felix’s shoulder but also increases the need of being filled by Chan right now.

“No~ need you to fill me up, please.”

He slams his fingers into you, hard and deep and it makes you gasp.

“Do these fingers not fill you enough? They just aren’t good enough for you.”

Felix behind you huffs then laughs, clearly caught between finding Chan’s teasing amusing or exasperating on your behalf.

“Don’t make me say it! You know what I want.”

Felix finally starts sucking marks on your shoulder and it makes you sigh happily, a good distraction for just a moment before Chan speaks again.

“I wanna hear you say it, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg.”

Chan’s tone makes even Felix gasp, his mouth disconnecting from you and a sudden, hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. You shiver from the many sensations on your body and the sudden addition of his clear order.

“Want… want your dick, please. Daddy, fuck me!”

After you’re done speaking Chan puts his fingers back in your mouth, letting you suck on them contentedly. If you’re going to get what you want you have to leave what you have and Chan pulls all of his fingers out of you at once. You know better than to whine so you hold it back, but your eyes screw shut in displeasure.

“All fours, doll. Come on now.” Chan coaxes, and Felix also sighs when he has to disconnect from you. Chan takes that time to get a condom, and when he turns he just admires you and Felix on the bed. A perfect picture, but one that he’s also involved in tonight.

You get on your hands and knees then just wait for them to touch you again. Felix knows he’s still a bit sensitive and waits for Chan to start. Chan with infinite patience that is now absolutely killing you. His hands are feeling you up, down your ass and thighs and back up again. When he notices how obviously impatient you both are he finally lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in.

It makes you sigh. The opening of your mouth prompts you to look up at Felix who smiles down at you. You push your neck out, wanting him in your mouth and he pets your head. His fingers lift your chin and make you look up at him again.

“Be good for us, baby. Make us feel good.”

You eagerly nod and he finally moves closer. Once the tip of his dick is in your mouth, you start swirling your tongue around it. The moment he thrusts in you open your mouth wider and let him use it. It doesn’t take Chan and Felix long, as close and in sync as they are, to set a rhythm where when one of them pushes in the other pulls out. Chan’s thrusts push you towards Felix so much that his cock is nearly always in your mouth fully.

At some point, you can feel the drool starting to drip down your chin and Felix coos while he wipes it away.

“So messy, baby! Drooling all down my cock.”

All you can do is hum in agreement and hope he hears it. Being absolutely ruined with him in your mouth is always a fun experience and having Chan behind you improves it quite a lot. Speaking of Chan. His hand has come around and two of his fingers are feverishly rubbing your clit. It makes the long-awaited pressure build-up and he groans when you clench around him.

“Such pretty pets in front of me. Wet holes dripping down our dicks and making everybody messy. You just can’t hold it in, can you little one? That’s ok, we know you’re enjoying it.”

Chan’s voice is raspy when he speaks and it bolsters your confidence to know how good he’s feeling, too. It’s not as if you can say or do much about it. Especially not when you can feel an orgasm building and he thrusts so hard to make you dizzy.

Felix broke back into high whines a minute or two ago. When he speaks, it’s strained and he can barely get more than a few words out at a time if he can think them at all.

“Gonna cum. I want you to- to swallow it. Holy fucking shit, your mouth is so good, honey.”

You open your eyes, when did they even close, to look up at Felix. Attempting to get across how good he feels and how badly you want it. His chest rises and falls with quick, harsh breaths. Chan is so good behind you, rubbing your clit in small circles and long length filling you up better than you dared to hope. Your own peak is building but can barely focus on that for now, no matter how badly you want to.

Felix hits your throat once then twice more and with a small cry and jerk of his hips he cums. His whole body quivers and trembles as his seed shoots down your throat. You cough on it for a moment but swallow it down. The convulsion of your mouth projects a high-pitched whine from his own.

The moment Felix leans back, and your mouth is still left open, Chan drives into you roughly. A noise of surprise that you barely recognize comes from you before you start moaning, feeling your own high so presently. With Felix no longer in front of you, Chan holds your hips and pulls you back, slapping against your skin even louder every time he thrusts in. The continued stimulation on your clit is almost overwhelming in its intensity.

Felix can see the grunts and groans leaving Chan’s mouth but can’t hear them due to your own keening moans. To everyone’s surprise, Chan cums before you do but doesn’t dare stop or slow down his pace, even when it overstimulates him. The movements of his hips are less fluid but it doesn’t make you feel any less pleasure. With each thrust, he had learned to hit nearly any spot you needed him to.

He’s left panting but is rewarded when you let out a gasp and something that sounded like ‘gonna cum’. Your whole body shivers when it washes over you and even still Chan thrusts which makes shake that much more intense. Eventually, he stops when it becomes far less pleasurable for himself, he has a limit, but still rubs circles on your clit. A distraction shows in the way of Felix who climbs onto his lap. The relief and pleasure are still coursing through you and you flop to your side, curling your legs up and inwards. You watch them kiss through blurry eyes and how Felix submits to him so readily.

“Lixie~ one more? Inside?” You pout.

Chan coos and runs a thumb over your puffed-out bottom lip. It’s always a bit of extra fun when you let Felix cum inside. It’s a bit messy which neither of you really wants to deal with afterwards. Tonight’s special so why not add an extra little bit of a reward for him?

Felix turns to you and gasps. When you don’t laugh it off, he moves in front of you.

“Can you ride me? If you’re not too tired, I mean, of course.”

The way he nearly spits out the words, like they just can’t come out fast enough is adorable. You prop yourself up on your hands and look at Chan over his shoulder, with wide eyes just barely seen by him.

“Go ahead, pets. I’ll join the show again in a bit.”

You giggle and nearly tackle Felix down by his shoulders. His hands go to your hips out of instinct but you sit on one of his thighs first. Sitting on his thigh, you nearly want to grind and ride on it, looking at Chan’s thighs makes you fully pout again. Those are some good thick ones that you’d love to sit on. Felix chuckles when sees what you’re staring at but tugs you forward by the hips to try and get you moving.

You make a noise of recognition and easily sit down fully on his dick. The familiar fullness makes you let out a small mewl.

“Does he feel good, kitty?”

“Mmh, yes. Really good, daddy.” Your voice is breathy, different from the fully voiced moans from when Chan was railing you before.

“Ride him then, doll.”

The order that you were actually waiting for comes and you bounce, slowly. Chan is intending to let you go at your own pace but when a fair amount of time passes, with a fair few whiny moans from Felix, he tsks.

“You can do better than that. Faster, harder. Make him feel good.”

You place both palms flat on Felix's chest and spread your fingers wide. Your thighs flex as you ride him and the slide makes you gasp. After you’ve set a steady pace for yourself you take your hand to your clit, starting a bit slowly but going quicker as the stimulation doesn’t quite satisfy you as you need it to. Felix watches you, enraptured. You try to look back whenever your eyes are open but it’s overwhelming and they swiftly screw shut again.

Felix is back to his low groans that you can nearly feel and it’s nearly unbearably unattractive. Chan thinks the same if the small noises he, unintentionally, lets out are any indication. He tries to mumble praises to you but more often it’s Chan who takes the lead.

“Such pretty little babies, putting on a good show. Only for daddy to see.” “You both look so cute and small. I’d be able to ruin you both so easily.”

His words and encouragement make you clench and Felix jerks his hips up into you more than once as well. It’s good and you want to keep going but soon your thighs are a bit sore and tired and you begin to slow down again, whining in disappointment.

“Looks like kitty can’t quite keep up anymore. Why don’t you do it instead, Lix?”

The familiar nickname used in such a different context makes Felix suck in a sharp breath and his eyes widen. He’d really like to get used to that but as it is he holds your hips and starts pumping. Felix just manages to hit different spots inside of you when he does it himself and he has you moaning loudly within a minute.

When you look back over at Chan he’s jerking himself off in time with Felix’s movements. He’s not sitting close enough for either of you to reach but his eyes flick all over both of you, taking it all in. Looking down at Felix, his eyes are completely closed but his mouth is open to let you hear his low moans. They get a bit louder and you can tell he’s getting close so you turn on the begging.

“Lixie, baby. Cum inside me, please. Want you to make it all messy and I wanna see it drip out.”

Felix grunts and starts cursing under his breath. In less than two minutes he spills inside you and the warm spurts of cum fill you up more. Your breath is heavy as you get closer again yourself. Chan finally joins you again, fingers replacing yours. Felix still jerks his hips into you as much as he can, but he’s too sensitive for too much of it. Still, Chan’s hand just works and you roll your hips into his hand to feel more. He barely has to do anything honestly. Still jerking himself off with the other hand you can tell he’s holding back by how tight his voice is.

“Use Lix and my hand to get yourself off, kitten. I’ll do it with you, too.”

Your mouth falls open and a long, loud moan comes out. Your second orgasm feels like an overflow of the senses, so much so that you barely even notice Chan spilling over yours and Felix’s legs. You come down with a shiver and your legs and fingers are left with the most shakiness.

“Up, sweetheart. We wanna see it drip.”

Felix’s voice is low and rough but not stern. You nod and slip off of him, laying down and letting them both see. It’s nothing you can see yourself but from both of their low noises, it’s very appreciated.

You’re all left panting, sweaty, and shaky. You stay on your back and throw your legs on top of Felix’s. Chan stands and shuffles off to find towels for you all first. It makes you recognize that you need water and you grumble and sigh before standing. Felix hears you and jumps up to get you on his back. Just as you get onto Felix’s back, Chan returns.

“Why don’t we dry ourselves off first, okay cuties?”

You both sit back on the bed and look up at Chan with wide eyes. He continues to take care of you both as best he can and it makes you even sleepier, eyes drooping occasionally. Felix keeps you awake with small jabs and pokes. Everything you all need is done and Chan has agreed to stay for the night. All the buses have stopped, Ubers seem sketchy, and any other arguments he may have are shot down. As well as the argument for him just sleeping on the couch. Felix wiggles himself in the middle and shoots a firm ‘cuddle me’ at Chan before snuggling happily down and going to sleep.

You and Chan share small glances of bewilderment before settling in as well. It’s hesitant but you can feel how Chan eventually moves in, centimetres at a time, to do something that could be considered as cuddling Felix, if you really want to stretch it. The bed is full but instead of feeling crowded you feel comforted, knowing two of your favourite people are the ones there with you.

Chan wakes first but doesn't move in a way that would indicate he's in anything but deep sleep. Once he's sure neither of you are awake he sits up and gazes at both peaceful, sleeping faces in front of him. You're both beautiful in the throes of passion but there is something about the peaceful light of day that pangs his heart differently.

Surreptitiously, under the blankets you and Felix hold hands but lay with eyes closed as you feel Chan looking, observing. He takes a heavy breath in that makes you want to sit up and ask, comfort him, but something about the stillness in the air stops you.

"Fuck," he curses lowly, but in a different way than the last night. "You're both so beautiful, I wish every morning could be like this."

You stay quiet, even if thoughts race through your mind, but sensitive Felix gasps, no matter how hard he tries to muffle it. Chan leans back against the wall to create as much distance as possible.

Felix sits up slowly and you follow a moment after. Chan lets out some nervous, forced chuckles. The confidence of yesterday has melted away, leaving the usual, shyer Chan sitting here instead.

"Channie?" He shudders. "What did you mean by that?"

He stutters and fumbles, trying not to lie but also keep feelings intact. Eventually, he just stops and freezes everything for a moment. Then before you can even think, he tries to leap off the large bed towards the door. Felix is fast and grabs one wrist while you rush to stand and grab the other to push him back down.

There is no fight, only an acceptance to sit back down.

"Channie, please." Felix chokes out the words and when you look at him he's on the verge of tears.

Why is unknown, but it's clear this is going to be a difficult conversation.

Chan sighs and runs a hand through his hair, flipping his head to look at both of you.

"I never thought this was going to happen, any of this. Last night, everything this morning. But whatever happens, don't let my words affect your relationship."

He looks at both of you separately to receive an agreement.

"I really like you both, romantically. Maybe even love but I've tried to avoid the thoughts. For obvious reasons."

In the silence of anticipation, Felix's tears had dried on his eyes but now they sit, teetering on the edge of his eyelids.

"Lix. Are you ok? You look like you're about to burst." You speak gently to Felix because he looks like a terrified little animal.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was never going to tell you."

Your confusion only grows at his vague words and you can't see Chan from the way he's turned his head.

"I understand if you wanna break up with me. I'd probably want to if the roles were reversed."

A gentle hand on his knee prompts Felix to raise his head and look at you.

"It's ok, love. I'm sure we can work this out. Just tell me the whole story first."

"Chan and I have been best friends for so long, years before I thought about dating anyone. He's seen all my highs and lows. Then you came and changed that a lot and we started dating. But still, somewhere along the way I... I developed feelings for him."

Felix curls himself so small it seems impossible and leans away from both you and Chan. You sit in stunned shock and try to make sense of everything that just happened. When your eyes focus again Chan's eyes are flicking between you and Felix. Felix.

You mentally curse and lunge towards him, embracing him in a tight hug.

"Can you look at me, my love?" You coax gently.

He sobs harder at the loving, familiar pet name coming from your mouth but obliges. Somehow still the prettiest man you may have ever seen, but that's not important.

"It's ok." You say simply.

Felix looks at you in confusion, sobs still wracking his body periodically even as he tries to hold them back.

"Your feelings for Chan, they're ok."

You can hear the small, confused noise Chan makes from his spot behind you but mostly you hear the loud whimper of Felix in front of you.

"What? Are you joking? How are you ok with knowing your boyfriend has a crush on someone else. His best friend, as well. One of the people you're both closest to. And you're ok with that?"

The points Felix is making aren't completely out there. But there's something that flares up in your chest, something amazing, when Chan and Felix interact so tenderly. Their normal banter is what you expect but when it's quieter or later they get softer and so do you when looking at them.

"I am. I like that you two have an incredible dynamic completely separate with me. Of course, I love talking to you both as well. I can't explain it, but it's there. So yes, it's ok."

Felix launches himself onto your lap and buries his face in your chest. You focus on him, nuzzling your nose in his hair and rubbing his back. To the point where you almost get lost in your own world completely. Of course, almost is the key word.

Chan watches in envy as you both drift off into a comfortable affection and closeness. There was just a whole confession but he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t fit perfectly, not yet anyways. He wants to hold you like that, or Felix, or both. Maybe later, not today. Today he needs to go home and let you have a day to yourselves.

Chan is off the bed before you can even speak and you and Felix look at him, puzzled.

"Haha, um, I just don't to y'know intrude on your morning routine or anything. You don't need to get up I'll just go, yeah. We can talk more another time."

Your deadpan look to Chan somehow increases as he says 'intrude' and you're sure Felix has pulled out his sad kitty look.

"Chan. Bang Chan. Christopher Bang. Sit down." You order.

Felix laughs when he follows your order, almost dazedly, and sits back down to fiddle with his hands.

"Can I kiss you? For real this time." You ask, Felix moves off your lap in anticipation.

Chan looks up at you with his jaw hanging down. He nods then closes his mouth and clears his throat.

"Yes. Please."

You're half on his lap with your arms around his neck before he pulls you in. After a dizzying minute or so you pull away.

Felix would be mad you got to kiss Chan with feelings first if it wasn't so damn attractive. When neither of you moves he whines and does grabby hands in that general direction.

You move out of the way and watch as Chan goes to Felix without hesitation. Chan is wider and could probably cover Felix up entirely from the right angle. They're so soft. Chan's hands are barely touching Felix's waist and Felix's hands are moving up Chan's arms and shoulders. They’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. When they pull away from each other your hands go to rest on each of their shoulders’ and you level Chan with a stern look.

“Just listen until I’m done. No interrupting. Just listen.”

He has the presence of mind to just look slightly sheepish and nod.

“Me and Felix have been dating for a while but that will make you no less of a valued or important member of this relationship. If we’re going to do this then we all need to communicate our feelings to each other. So, Chan. If we ever, ever, make you feel left out in any way, you need to tell one of us. That goes for all of us in any situation.”

You sit back but Felix catches you and pulls you into his side. Chan follows his lead and moves in front of you, putting his long arms to use and hugging both of you. You all sit in peace and adoration for a bit before stomachs begin to grumble a bit. Chan is the first to disentangle himself and the look of disbelief that crosses his face all over again is almost comical.

"You're... This is ok?"

You giggle at his still present disbelief. Hesitantly, you reach one hand towards him and he grabs it and moves toward you. While still making eye contact he gingerly presses his lips to the top of Felix's head.

"It's real, Channie. I promise." You giggle then whisper.

Chan pulls his hand back and looks at both of his palms in shock. You give him a few moments then he reaches his arms back around both of you as best he can and buries his face in Felix's shoulder.

"Thank you." He mumbles.

"Three's a party, not a crowd for us.” You reply, leaning on Felix as well.

Felix is the glue that binds you two together, and the one that got you here in the first place. For not the first time and not the last, you're happy to have met him.

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #lee felix smut #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids oneshot #bang chan oneshot #lee felix oneshot #bang chan x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenario #bang chan scenarios #lee felix scenarios

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kkemtal · 3 years

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Risk and Benefit: Where Was I For You Not To Mind My Own Business Here

September 1, 2021

The peak of my red tide has got to be the cause of why my mind goes intangled and triggered a growing deeply sown frustation throughout this whole day. I might second my over intake of caffeinated beverages today to be part of the major blame too. This has conjured images of the things I really want to do and enjoy. In the unprecedented world we're currently caught on, with my reluctance, I am jeopardized by having second thoughts on weighing out the risks and benefits on pushing what I desire to do as part of my self-love - gym, solo travels, driving classes. From these planted frustrations unveils what rolls out at the end of today.

Throughout the day, just out of the blue, while waiting for my appointment at the hospital, I decided to meet with someone who works at the coffeeshop. It's just a walk mile distance. I had a fine moment of transient socializing with 'them' while jumbling with my client calls and a few mail reports. As always, on how consistently thoughtful and welcoming they were, they treated me with my favorite coffee drink along with vegetarian salad and blueberry cheesecake. Honestly, I felt an immense gratitude on my every visit there as I thought they and along others associated with me are angels in my life based on their gestures imbued of positive energies. Along with our conversation, it was just me being accosted of how I was doing. I was expressing on wanting to unwind on local travels and beaches as a solo traveller or hoping to be adopted by any willing adventure seeking cliques. As an open opportunity for me to explore and along the way make new friends which I know how crucial this is at my age.

From suggesting cool beaches and tourist spots into harboring mixed emotions of frustration and dreading over you as they asked me how am I with you. They kinda felt dubious on our non-label or lowkey so to speak kind of relationship. They kinda felt a pity on me as they knew how expressive I was on assuring you that I still have feelings for you. They adamantly advised me not to take this martyrdom too long while you're at abroad as they had a gut feeling you might possibly met someone more special. Since, we haven't spoken yet for almost two months right after you left me on seenzone last July 20, 2021, I believe? You were at the van on your way home from whatever was your part-time job related errands at night. As an overthinker, I have already thought about that as one of the future major possibilities for another painful heartbreak in this cusp of adulthood. Most likely the reason to be would be you finding yourself falling in love more in there and choose to live permanently there and restart a new life chapter. I sensed it's never gonna be as traumatazing as my last toxic ex-boyfriend. But, a somewhat liberating yet a very painful and great lesson in love to be embedded from.

Right now, honestly, I'm crying here at my room because I'm overthinking that maybe our depth of love for one another since then was we misinterpreted in some way on confronting what's so special and rare we had or we took it differently by meaning. Maybe, on your side, this is just a fleeting rollercoaster moment, a phase you'll take what we had a special connection for granted. From my side, I know I prayed for this to have it with you during college which right now I yearned for something greater between us and that has left me feeling one-sided with you. Maybe, I mistook what you've felt for me as something greater and beyond just purely a crush. Since you've got no father figure and are a single child, maybe you loved me more as a sibling with no romantic/intimate attachment, perhaps. I don't know, I feel kinda guilty, confused and hurt with these self-inflicting thoughts. I have a hunch that could be the reason on your phases of denial flickering out. At the same time, I'm sulking to the thought of you being taken over by your selfishness and pride or your own demon as you mentioned then. Maybe you might forget me and along with your closest loved ones here who are missing you. I know you just have to figure things out for yourself and come up with some thoughtfulness and considerations whilst exploring on your dream land which I'm so happy for you that you've made it given the global situation.

Being so emotional right now and incessantly crying, fuck. Of course, I have thought about these possibilities on being on your shoes because I want to save myself from being too idealistic in love and shift my perception into what is realistic. I have considered every factor amidst this pandemic while being patient with you without waiting, I don't know if that makes any sense. The pain caused from these thoughts is something I should embrace as a cure of a future heartbreak. I don't want to disturb you although I want to besides on how much I miss you so much and wondering about you. But, truly the main reason is I know you have received more than enough of my assurance that you'll always count on me based on the poems, songs, letters and most especially that birthday presentation I sent during the lockdown period.

Apart from that, I will just let you be. Just like that significant gist from the film Ruby Sparks, I don't want to control or try to change you out of frustration to stay in line what favorable consequences I'd like to project through you in choosing me. Teary-eyed me painfully sees this as a challenge on what's meant for me will find its way back to me on the right time granted by the Universe. Done right out naturally. Regardless, the balance of negative and positive opinions I gathered from others, I'm still gonna be on flow and patience with you. Wholeheartedly, no matter what, I'll always be thankful for how long I take this too far on reaching you amidst the uproar of doubts and approvals, cheers and jeers from the crowd on how our relationship unfolds. Despite, I felt I am silenced onto holding with this, anchoring with hope though I'm drowning in despair. Because, I swear to God, what we have is so unimaginably rare that I couldn't find this kind of special connection with a gazillion of people I met who just come and go. I kept searching for you to anyone who has been enamored by me or anyone at our age group connected with me both in and out of my professional field. At this far reaching point, you are beyond comparable. No one is anywhere near significantly special as you - the fear of losing and the risk of temporary place in my life serving as what figure of platitude.

Tonight, I saw a post introducing one of the locally known DJs residing from the middle region of our country who's in a long-term 6 year relationship with one of the Miss Universe candidates from the aformentioned region competing against other beauty pageants for the globally crown reigning competition. As I viewed the couple's adorable pictures and appreciating how beautiful they are, I cried asking God how I wish to be genuinely happy by having this kind of exact inspiring and loving relationship with open acceptance and no room of denials coupled with exuberance and blessings from both parties and the public with no clouded judgements and be perceived as subject to love is beyond what's intangible. This. I felt envious. I know this overblowing trail of messed up rumination will pass but come in lighter degrees from inexplicably thinking about you past work hours until I hit the hay.

Right now, I only hope and ask the Universe for you to be safe at all aspects while chiselling in becoming the better version of yourself by weeding out the realized toxic traits you figured from yourself based on your encounters from living with your abroad ambitions. Hoping you will have more strength and energy to take care of yourself and tread against whatever plummets you down in this new journey as the world has been hard enough. As you say, happiness is such a luxury.

- kkemtal

#kkemtal #Hope #Love #Desire #Pray #Adulthood #Diary #Gratitude

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susie-dreemurr · 3 years

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Ask meme: danganronpa?

Thx for the ask! Btw this is excluding the non-game entries.

This contains slight spoilers, but not much.

Favorite character: Oof, this one is hard. I think it might be Kaito, Toko or Nagisa. Toko got some great development in Ultra Despair Girls and while she’s still bad representation, I can still like her despite it. Nagisa is one of the Danganronpa characters who I consider the best written ones in the franchise, with his personality and motivation being great and heartbreaking. Kaito’s placement in my heart is ironic considering he used to be one of my least favorites, but I’ve grown to like really like him! The balance between his flaws and virtues are good and his dynamic with Kokichi is *chef’s kiss*

I’ve decided to put a read more below because the post got long

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Komahina, oumota, tokomaru, kaemugi and Kaeangie. The first three are greatly written dynamics, I love the latter two’s potential and free time events.

Character I find most attractive: ...uhhhh idk lol. I do find Maki, Kirumi and Peko very pretty.

Character I would marry: Kaede or Aoi, Definitely would love to hang out with them irl!

Character I would be best friends with: answer above.

a random thought:

An unpopular opinion: I started liking Hiyoko before playing her Free Time Events or Island mode. She was enjoyable enough in the main story to me, although, sadly, the writers did end up doing her character dirty.

Also Monaca is my favorite villain, lol.

My Canon OTP: I guess Naegiri? It’s the closest thing to canon ((although I’m not the kind of person who cares about what the author says about their story outside of said story)) and it’s genuinely a great relationship.

My Non-canon OTP: I love Komahina, Oumota and Tokomaru almost equally. I’m not able to decide...though if I had to, I’d choose Tokomaru. Just look at udg and say they’re a bad dynamic. You can’t.

Most Badass Character: Idk lol

Most Epic Villain: My favorite villain is Monaca! She’s such a delightful little devil.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Kaimaki. Sorry to kaimaki fans, your ship is vv valid!! It’s just...Not only do I not like Maki very much, something that causes me to not have ships with her, but I didn’t like how they made her a satellite character in Kaito’s orbit. The fact that Kaito made sexist remarks about her (yes they were well-intentioned but still sexist) and just...didn’t really develop from his relationship with her (unlike with his dynamic with Shuichi and Kokichi) is just. Kinda annoying :/ . I also wanted more flavor in their interactions. Idk why but they just felt dull.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Probably at least half of the cast, lol. Nekomaru was very screwed over. Not only are the “shit” jokes unfunny, but like. He was mostly just comic relief, it just seemed like the writers didn’t give a shit (ha) about him.

Favourite Friendship: Toko & Komaru. Aside of that, then probably Shuichi & Kaito.

Character I most identify with: I relate to Nagito and Kaito to frightening extent, haha.

Character I wish I could be like: Komaru is an icon. Stan Komaru.

I wanted to make this longer, but couldn’t find enough motivation for that so it’s shorter than what I was hoping for. Hope you liked it!

#danganronpa #mine #asks #ask meme answers #long post

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fmdjoosungarchive · 4 years

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sung vs boys

word count: 1412

warnings: sorta mentions internal homophobia

tldr; sung’s crushes pre-gold star bc i was inspired by my own playlist to talk about it. sung useless gay

i’ll get this out of the way so i don’t repeat myself a million times later like i usually do

sung falls for most every man he sees

he’s very unaware of this trait, and thinks that’s just how he feels about people in general

it can range from a little heart flutter or finding someone attractive, to full on, can’t stop thinking about them kind of crush

for this hc, it’ll mostly be about the more specific crushes sung has developed, towards the more intense side of the spectrum, bc otherwise we’d be here all day

also for all of these, sung still struggles with seeing them as crushes even now, and Definitely didn’t think they were crushes back in de day

babie

before his tweens, sung never had big crushes

what could be most closely associated with real crushes would have been his celebrity crushes

he thought he wanted to be as pretty and cool as them, which was a factor to some degree, but not the whole picture

when it came to friends who were boys, from his childhood neighborhood(s) or school, the feelings he had for them weren’t much more pronounced than they were for others, if at all

best friend

in feb 2005, sung had a best friend

he was the first best friend that Others would consider his best friend (considering sung would call anyone who said one (1) nice word to him once, his best friend, back then)

the boy had just moved into town, and it was pure luck that they clicked

they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company

as school friends, they started to bond there, playing with each other during breaks

they would spend nights at one another’s house, do homework together, play games together, had their own secret handshake

when his birthday came, a month after them first beginning to talk,

it was the closest bond sung had had with anyone before, excluding his family

unfortunately, they were only friends for half of a year, when sung’s family decided to move to start up a new location of their restaurant brand in another city

losing that friend was a large part of why sung was so resistant to moving around like he did for the next couple of years

if they were able to stay together longer, that friendship would have turned into sung’s first real crush, but, he was only a possibility

art class

his first real crush, was the boy from art class

when sung was eleven, and settled in his new town (that i refuse to name for plot purposes), he felt his first romantic feelings

pretty much all of the kids in the school knew one another, which left sung feeling a bit like an outcast

the determination he’d had before in being overly cheery even when others rejected him, faltered here, because to him, it read more clearly as the other kids not liking him

this boy, though, was kind to him

they first spoke around the third week of class, when sung’s pencil broke, and the boy offered him one of his, from his drawn-on pencil case

and it was like sung saw the fuckin messiah. he thought the dude was So pretty that he looked a bit dopey fish mouthing for a bit

he couldn’t stop glancing over at the boy through the rest of class, cheeks burning red, and when the class was over, he took the initiative to tell the boy he liked the drawings on his pencil case, which, like what happens with eleven year olds, started the boy off on telling sung all about his favorite anime characters and how he wants to be a video game designer when he’s older

then sung went home and asked his brother to tell him stuff about video games he likes, so he can sound a little more knowledgable to this boy

the crush faded with time, as when sung left that school for the next, he moved on

the crush did last his entire time at that school, but it soon wasn’t alone, since that One experience basically unlocked the heart ho sung we all kno today

side hos

from then on, sung really started falling for basically any boy who was the teeniest bit nice to him

some crushes were longer, some shorter

sometimes, he’d fall for a boy based off of looks, then when they weren’t Nice, to him or someone else, the crush would be gone in an instant

he quickly developed the type he still has now, basically dudes who seem like they might be Bad Bois but they’re not anything close to it ksjdk

while his heart is so big his crushes didn’t/don’t stick within that realm all of the time, those were the crushes that tended to stick around the longest, and have the most impact on him (as well as crushes on friends but we’ll come back to that)

though, the majority of his crushes weren’t massive, earth shattering types

heart shattering? sure. he’s a crybaby pisces who would bawl his eyes out any time someone didn’t want to be his friend anymore, or left the class he was in, or left the school, or whenever he had to leave another school

rebel

from art class boy on, sung had two other major crushes before becoming a trainee, one in each year

so, in yet another town, at twelve, came the rebel

basically the closest he got to an actual Bad Boi crush

this kid had some issues at home, and it affected the way he interacted with the world and growing up

he had a lot of the attributes sung falls for a lot nowadays

he wore a lot of black, even often featuring a slightly too big, leather jacket, talked about how his older brother was teaching him to drive a motorcycle (which to baby sung was Wow Cool), was taller than sung, had a quiet and to himself demeanor, and was Older (15)

it took a while for them to first speak, since sung admired him from afar at first, but when he did take that leap, this boy was... decent to him

not particularly kind, but not mean either

and that was good enough for sung, which meant leaning on his every word, barely even chastising when he did things sung didn’t approve of

the rebel used up his company, probably because it gave him a rush to have someone look up to him like sung did

but this crush ended pretty abruptly, when, during a really hard time in his life, the rebel lashed out at someone in front of sung, and when he approached the boy about it, he was lashed out at as well

sung has had many heartbreaks, like mentioned, bc he’s a crybaby pisces, but in retrospect, he thinks of that one often, for how jolting it was

almost

and the last, the last ‘ordinary person’ crush sung has had in his life, was his almost, at 13

unlike the best friend of a couple years ago, this crush was the only major crush who reciprocated the feelings

they were both unaware, but if they weren’t, they probably would have dated. not forever, i mean, cmon they’re 13, but it could have been helpful in both of their developments

they bonded over having similar interests, at first because they both liked the same tv show, but then, as they started becoming friends, by discovering things and sharing with the other

and with time, rather than the superficial things about appearance, life stance, vibe, sung fell for the little things

he fell for how the boy laughed with his whole body at jokes

he fell for how the boy always forgot to cap his toothpaste again

he fell for who the boy was, until that developed into loving all parts of him, inside and out

and the boy felt the same

which is why, when sung auditioned for gold star, and got in, it caused a rift in their relationship

the boy was angry, that sung wanted to leave him and their school

it ended up being the demise of their friendship, though sung still help onto hope, for the first year he was a trainee

he kept messaging the boy, but the longer time passed, the more infrequent responses became, and sung, eventually, stopped trying

sung, if he recognized them all as crushes, would think they were all still in his heart, no matter how badly or great things went

#i might do another version of this for trainee n up sung #but it might b rly involved n long bc there are more Specific examples of crushes he has/has had on muses here #longer anyway #idk we'll See #self para #maybe i should full lara jean it and write out sung's love letters to these boys lmaooo #wait i didnt mean to post this im pulling a beth

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archergwenwrites · 4 years

Text

ZM - Feb 10 - Fake Dating

@zutaramonth

“I still don’t see why I have to go.”

Sokka frowned at the Switch in his hand from the comfy chair. “It’s simple, Katara. Dad’s a teacher; at least half his coworkers will be there-” The console beeped sadly as Suki’s beeped triumphantly. “-and he’ll be disappointed in you if you don’t show up so he can brag about you.” He turned to look at Suki whose lap on which he was reclining. “How to you keep doing that, woman?”

Suki stuck her tongue out at him before replying, “get gud.”

“Rematch,” he said, kissing her nose. “Anyway, Katara, just go to your five year reunion. Who cares if you’re going solo? No one’s gonna care about high school drama.”

Both Katara and Suki snorted in derision at the same time. “Fine, think poorly of your classmates. But I bet that-”

The door to Sokka’s apartment slammed open and then closed as his roommate returned. He tossed his keys into the bowl on the kitchen island, effortlessly turned it into an exhausted wave, and practically floated through their small living room gathering and down the hall. Another door slammed, presumably his room, and the three in the living room all exchanged amused glances as the muffled sounds of rustling still drifted back up the hall. A creak announced a door opening again, and Zuko emerged from the hall. He collapsed into the couch next to Katara, making her bounce slightly with his force on the fluff.

“How is everyone?”

“I’m doing-” Suki’s switch beeped merrily again. “Oh come on!”

“Give it up, Boomerang,” Zuko drawled, leaning his head back on the couch to stare at the ceiling, exposing his long, pale neck. “Your girlfriend is unbeatable.”

“Damn right I am!”

“Stop victory dancing under me! This is very unsettling!”

Chuckling, Katara returned her gaze to Zuko’s neck – since his face was currently unavailable. “We’re fine. How are you?”

His low groan was somewhat lost in the din of Sokka and Suki’s playful argument. “I’m alright. I’m just, tired of dealing with people, both at work in Uncle’s shop and with the city council.”

“Well I think you’re doing an amazing job.”

He lifted his head to give her a big smile just as Sokka turned to them from where he was now upside down on the chair. “Hey Zuko, go with Katara to her high school reunion. She needs a fake boyfriend to stave off all the terrible gossip remaining from high school.”

“Oh that’s not-”

“Sure, what night is it? Uncle will happily give me the night off.”

“Um, next Saturday. Doors open at 4:30 with dinner starting at 5:30. We don’t have to stay the whole time.”

He gave her a cheeky eyebrow raise. “I’m prepared to stay as long as it takes. I’ll save you from the gossips.”

“Careful, Zuko,” Sokka said teasingly before Suki shoved him onto the floor with a thwump. “Katara was quite the heartbreaker in high school. You’ll have to beat them off you with a stick.”

Katara was clenching the steering so hard she thought she might snap it off. “We should probably go over our story before we go in.”

Zuko gave her an amused glance. “Our story?”

“Yeah. How long have we been fake dating?”

“How long ago was your last relationship?”

She thought for a moment back to college. “Three years.”

“Year and a half then. Taking it slow because we started when you were in your final semester of college, about to do study-abroad; I was just elected to the city council but didn’t want you to get away so to speak without taking a chance, so we’ve only been dating in the same city on equal life footing for eight months, but it’s been long enough that it’s not too early in the relationship to bring me to a reunion and have it be desperate.”

“Yeah that makes-” She blanched. “That’s very good but my dad will be in there.”

“So tell him your plot.”

“What!” Zuko shrugged. “He’s Sokka’s dad, too. You think he wouldn’t like a good prank?”

“It’s not a prank,” she replied, exhaling as she released the steering well. “It’s winning the relationships.”

“That’s healthy,” he quipped, getting out of the car. She laughed as she slipped out of the car.

“Really? You of all people are gonna say that when you would date your private school girlfriend no matter what crap she’d put you through?”

Zuko shrugged, throwing an arm over her shoulders as the moved towards the door to the gymnasium. “Takes one to know one, princess.”

“Gross. No nicknames.”

“Oh, Sugar Queen? A memorandum on nicknames?”

“Knock it off, Prince Ponytail.”

Zuko laughed, and from the other side of the gym Hakoda caught his daughter’s eyes. “Whatever you say, Sweetness.”

In front of the check-in table and the innocent Earth Kingdom girls who’d volunteered for this, Katara punched Zuko with a quick jab into his side closest to her before turning to them. “Hi, Katara Sweetwater and guest.”

Zuko took her nametag from the nice volunteer and stepped close to Katara so he could affix it to her blouse. She blushed at the attention. He tapped her nose with a finger just as her dad’s hand landed on her shoulder.

“Katara. Quick question. I’ll bring her right back Zuko.”

“Nice to see you, Hakoda, sir.”

The older man gave a smiling nod before pulling his daughter to the side out of earshot of others. “You brought Zuko?”

“Before you start, it was Sokka’s idea.”

Zuko leaned against the wall blocking access to the small alcove where Katara and Hakoda were clearly hashing something out. Somehow, that must have given a guy with even scruffier hair and leather pants permission to lean against the wall next to him. Zuko just raised an eyebrow, but waited in silence for the stranger to explain himself.

“One of the downsides of being the teacher’s daughter. Always pulled off to get private lectures.”

“I’m not sure; the man has a fine touch with the grill. I’d almost consider him a perk.”

The stranger offered a hand. “Jet.” Ah yes. The one from end of senior year into college. The teenage rebellion one. The “only brought home once to unmitigated disaster” one.

Zuko took his hand and gave a firm shake. “Zuko.”

Jet’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember such a name in our graduating class.”

“Oh no, I didn’t go to this school. I’m Katara’s date though. Hence the hanging back. I’d much rather navigate this with her.”

“Interesting. We used to date; did she tell you that?”

“No, sorry. It must have slipped her mind.”

Jet scoffed a little. “Typical. Well, here’s some free advice, since you’re obviously new to this relationship. Whatever Mr. Sweetwater says, goes. She won’t even question how high if dear daddy tells her to jump or to break up with some guy. So I wouldn’t get too attached. If Mr. Sweetwater decides you’re done? You’re done.”

Zuko raised a dismissive eyebrow. “If you think Hakoda could make Katara do anything she didn’t want to do, I’d say you’re a fool.”

“That’s what I thought. But just you wait. Or you could always bail. I mean, it’s a little weird to be coming to a school reunion this early on, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” an older voice cut in. “A year and a half sounds about reasonable to me. Katara, thanks for updating me on Sokka. I appreciate it.” Katara, now standing next to Zuko and away from Jet, smiled at her father as he stood in front of the three of them. “Zuko, always a pleasure to see you.” He pulled the younger man into a brief hug. “Good to see you, too, Hakoda.” The teacher turned to the third member, voice and face notably colder. “Jet. Enjoy the party, all of you.” And he waded into the loose crowd.

Zuko offered a hand to Katara. “Well, care to introduce me to some of your classmates?”

“Of course,” she replied, placing her palm in his. “Nice to see you, Jet.”

“Uh, yeah. Same to you.”

Zuko gave him a jaunty two-finger salute from the forehead. “Nice talking with you, buddy. Enjoy the party.”

Jet just glared, and Zuko had to keep him from laughing. He leaned down to Katara’s ear. “Please tell me you have more ex-boyfriends I can annoy.”

She turned, her face so close to his, as she replied, “Unfortunately, no. There are, of course, multiple hearts I broke, but most of them were actually nice.”

“Then why break the pattern with Jet, of all people.”

Katara shrugged. “You don’t always see a mistake before you make it.”

Gently bumping her shoulder with his, he replied. “Fair enough.”

Katara tried not to panic as the dinner ended and spun into dancing. Zuko was too good at this. She knew that both his jobs required him to charm people, but she didn’t know when he had gotten good at it. Well, not good like a politician is good at charming. It all felt so real, the way he was genuinely interested in Haru’s moustache care or how he listened to Jin talk about her full classrooms of adorable kids. He still stumbled over words - he was still Zuko - but no one seemed to care, least of all him.

When he asked her dance for a slow song, she regretted having asked him to come the way she did, but it was too late now.

“This is nice.”

He only hummed in reply, the note vibrating in his chest. With her ear pressed against his sternum, she could swear she could feel it.

“You were so charming. How do you manage it? It can’t be just all that council practice; I see you enough times when you come home from a session.”

He chuckled, another pleasant vibration against her face. “I just comfort myself with the knowledge that, given how few of them I met before tonight, even just as your friend, I don’t have to see these people for another five to ten years, whenever they schedule the next reunion. It makes it a lot easier to let the mistakes roll off my back, because they’ll have forgotten by then.”

Katara pulled back. “You would come to another of these with me?”

“Of course, Katara.”

She leaned close, still swaying to the music. “Real or for tonight?”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t immediately say anything. Disappointed, and shocked she was so disappointed, she tucked her head back on his sternum. “I’m sorry. That was, unfair, of me to ask.”

“No, it just, surprised me. I didn’t expect you, well.” He paused. “Do you want it to be fake? Because if not, we can ditch this popsicle stand and get some real ice cream and get talking in peace.”

“Getting ice cream sounds nice.”

“You gotta remember to take it slow though; don’t want to get hurt going to fast in trying something new.”

“Of course. It’s the best way to appreciate what you chose.”

As the song ended, Zuko pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Then, Sugar Queen, lets go get you some super chocolate fudge.”

“Aww, you remembered!”

#zutara #zutaramonth2020 #fanfiction #zuko x katara #zutaramonth

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screensirenfic · 4 years

Text

Gasoline Chapter 10

“Sorry” was perhaps both the easiest and hardest word to say.

“I’m sorry I was late today” Easy, Simple. Barely even worth saying.

“I’m sorry I failed my finals.” Harder, but still forgivable with time and effort.

“I’m sorry; I’m breaking up with you.”

Harder; much harder, especially when the person you’re breaking up with is your best friend of five years.

When I heard that knock on the cabin door; my stomach began to have butterflies, but not the good kind I’d wanted when me and Steve started this whole thing.

I’d been dreading this moment; a big part of me wondering whether I should’ve cancelled and just done this over the phone, but I stopped myself.

That was cowardly, and I couldn’t do that to Steve, not after everything he’d done for me.

“Lola; door!!” Dad yelled from the kitchen, stuck in the middle of scraping a burnt omelette into the trash, because dad was not a good cook, and the resident head chef had other plans for tonight.

“Don’t worry; I got it!” I yelled from the bathroom, putting in my last hoop earring, before making my way to the front door.

Dad was currently searching for pizza menus, frying pan and all attempts of a home cooked meal left abandoned in the kitchen sink.

The sight was kinda hilarious, but did little to ease my frayed nerves, even after I took a deep breath, settling myself to unlatch the door.

I opened it, and there was no surprises on who was waiting on the other side; a suitably dapper looking Steve Harrington dressed in a clean cut shirt and jeans.

He’d been putting more effort in dressing for our dates of late; maybe under the misinformed opinion that if he dressed up a bit more, it might reignite that spark we’d experienced at the Snow Ball.

“Hey Lo; you look great!” He greeted me, dumb pretty boy smile on his face as he took in the far too casual ensemble of leather jacket and denim shorts, before leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek.

“You do too.” I complimented, though it came across short as I unresponsively accepted the kiss; guilt already doing one hell of a trip in my mind.

He began to lead me back to the car, overeager smile staying put, only going further to prove that Steve really was oblivious, or maybe he just didn’t want to face the facts that something wasn’t right here.

“So, where do you wanna go tonight? Movies? Dinner? Arcade?” He asked; running through what would’ve been a typical date night; the same motions we’d been running through every weekend since we’d started going out, but never getting anywhere.

“Steve; I’m not sure it’s a good idea...” I began, beginning to try and let him down easy as he opened the passenger door for me, allowing me to duck inside; probably a good idea considering the circumstances.

He didn’t give me a chance to finish, already heading round to the drivers side and climbing in the seat; that same dopey enthusiasm not being dampened by my tone in the slightest.

“Well; we could always just head to my house. My parents aren’t in...” He suggested; wiggling his eyebrows in a joking fashion so I didn’t know whether to take his proposition seriously or not.

“Steve; I’m not sure...”

“Don’t worry about it. We can just figure it out on the way.” He interrupted, turning the engine over so it hummed to life with the sounds of You’re My Best Friend.

“Steve; listen to me!” I yelled, cutting through what I now knew was nervous jabbering; seems like Steve wasn’t as oblivious as I thought.

He shut up, but didn’t turn to face me; eyes fixed straight ahead with a slight look of apprehension, and maybe even dread on his face.

“This isn’t gonna work, Steve.” I stated; keeping my voice firm despite the pain wracking through my chest at the sight of his anxious expression.

“Well; if you want, we can take a rain check until next week-“ He excused in a state of denial; his soft desperation near heartbreaking.

“Steve; I’m not talking about the date...” I interrupted, pointing out the obvious that he was so clearly trying to avoid.

He sighed, closing his eyes and biting his lip as he stared down at his lap; fingers squeezing hard on the steering wheel as the hard truth of what was happening here broke through.

“I should’ve seen this coming...” He said; the admission sounding more resigned than bitter; as if this entire conversation hadn’t come as a surprise to him.

“I’m sorry; Steve.” I apologised, genuinely meaning it, because I never meant to hurt him this way.

He was my best friend, and I loved him, but I couldn’t go on pretending that this spark we had was anything more than just that; a spark.

“I really wanted for this to work, but I just can’t, Okay?!” I confessed, needing to be honest with him for once in my life.

Steve just sighed again, louder this time as he slumped forward, resting his head against the top of the steering wheel.

He let out a puff of air, lips making a trill noise like a horse; reminding me distinctly of a man with a migraine, as he began to accept the end of our romantic relationship.

“Just please don’t tell me you’re leaving me for Billy Hargrove?” He asked in what could’ve been a joke, if not for the bitterness in his voice.

Still; I couldn’t answer.

The truth so close to home that I knew there was nothing I could say to redeem myself.

Instead Steve glanced up, taking in my face wracked in a combination of guilt and pity.

I never wanted to hurt him; not ever, but I had.

He big brown eyes looked straight into my eyes and read the truth without a word from my lips.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” I continued to apologise; my voice soft and barely above a whisper, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, because I could see how much this was hurting; and my god, I didn’t want to be the reason for his pain.

He turned his gaze from me, staring out the windshield with a hand plastered over the bottom half of his face; the glisten of tears reflected in the dim moonlight.

He didn’t say anything; his expression suddenly hard to read as I found myself waiting on baited breath for his words; for some sort of absolution for the great wrong I’d done to my closest friend.

“Please; Steve. Just say something...” I asked; afraid of the oppressive silence between us, of the looming shadow of the end of more than just our relationship.

“Scream at me, or something...” I pleaded; my stomach tying itself in knots, because what if I’d ruined everything; what if he never wanted to speak to me again?

I’d really not thought of the true extent of the consequences of my actions; of how much really could be at stake for the sake of my lust and the blossomings of what could be teenage love, but I really had no way to know for sure-

“Why?”

His voice rang out like a shot in the dark, despite being muffled behind his hand.

“Just tell me why.”

There was a million and one ways I could answer that question; not all of them lies.

Because I was stupid was one; lonely was another.

Because Billy was beautiful, and brazen, and bold, and really wasn’t as bad a person as that night at the Byers would have you believe; but I went with the simplest one.

“Because I think I love him.” I admitted; the truth sounding uncertain in my mouth, because although I knew the feelings were true, it was hard to say the words out loud, almost as if the moment I said it, it would be real.

The words cut Steve like a knife.

I could tell by the way he winced as if he was experiencing real physical pain.

I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was the truth, and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise; I couldn’t love Steve like I loved Billy.

“I’m sorry, Steve...” I apologised for the third time tonight; tears finally beginning to slip their way down my cheek, because I hated seeing him like this; so broken and sad.

Nancy had already left him because she loved someone else, and now I had too.

“I’m so, so sorry...”

“I think you should go.” Steve interrupted; his voice croaky and low as he still avoided looking at me, and somehow that cut more than anything else.

“Okay...” I nodded, already opening the door, because I knew if I said anything more, I’d just end up making things worse.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in class...” I continued, leaning in close to kiss him goodbye, before hesitating.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this anymore; not after the conversation we just had, but some part of me couldn’t leave this on a sour note.

I filled the gap, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, hoping that somehow the gesture would prove that despite me choosing Billy over him, I still loved him.

Steve didn’t respond, just continued staring out of the windscreen as I climbed out of the car.

I took one last look at him outside of the car; my heart breaking at the way his head hung low like a weight was around his neck, how thin trails of tears trickled down flushed cheeks.

I wanted to get back in the car and kiss them away, but I knew I couldn’t.

It would be another lie to try and placate him with fake promises; that I could learn to love him, that what Billy and I had was purely chemical.

“Goodbye Steve.” I offered instead, wanting to say more, but knowing that there were no words that could fix this; only time.

He didn’t reply, and I gave up then, shutting the car door and walking back to my house.

By the time I found my keys and opened the front door, I knew Steve was already gone; the soft hum of his BMs engine disappearing into the night.

Previously he would’ve stayed to check I got in okay, even if my dad was in, but I’d clearly hurt him too much for that.

“El; do you want pepperoni or ham and pineapple-“ Dad asked as he emerged from his room, clearly mistaking my presence for the kids.

“Lo?” Dad crinkled his brows in confusion, having not expected me back for at least another few hours.

“What are you doing back so early?”

I didn’t answer, just rushed over to him and enveloped him in a tight hug.

He hesitated for a moment, before wrapping his arms around me; pizza menus and all, squeezing me tightly to his chest.

“Sweetie; what happened?” He asked, petting the top of my head, because I hardly ever went to my dad for comfort unless something went extremely wrong.

I said nothing, burying my face further into the soft cotton of my dad’s shirt as it soaked up my tears.

For once; I didn’t want my dad to listen to me, I just wanted him to stand there and hold me for a minute and remind me that everything was gonna be alright.

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years

Text

The Birthday Party (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 10/1)

Due to technical issues, Chapter 10 is out today: apologies for the delay! Part 2 featuring the James confrontation will be out later today as planned so stay tuned!

Little disclaimer-favor: if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Word Count: 3000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped @storyscapefanficarchive@marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako@everlastingchoices @andrxrneda @aestheticsayeed@indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff @bornonawdnsday @nazario-sayeed @h-doodles @adele-serda @marlcasters@brightpinkpeppercorn @nightwhite13 @ramenwithaspoon@michelleconnoly @charliejane-blog @ghost-of-yuri@choicesgremlin @shadeofangelus @mistressofspiesxenia@orange-elephants

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon @nydeiri

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9

_____________________

"I'm positive you'll be quite pleased with the venue, Madam" Sabine smiles, her eyes gleaming as she guides me through the hallways. I can tell she's beaming and thrilled for tonight: knowing her, adrenaline is pumping through her veins and she won't rest until the party is officially over and she touches her pillow. But she looks genuinely anxious of showing me the results of her hard work. Well, her and Adele's. She must be proud of it: she's literally floating by my side. "I'm sure I will, ma chere Sabine" I agree, mirroring her smile. "You never disappointed me once, I doubt you'll start tonight" Her whole face brightened up with pride, even if she tries to hide it to preserve her professional demeanour. But I know her well enough and I wouldn't have shared my praise if that wasn't the effect I had in mind. When we finally reach our destination, my little Napoleon stops in front of the closed doors of the cafe and looks back at me. "Allons-y, Madam?" she lilts in French, her head high. In response, to channel my Zetta role I close my eyes and dramatically offer her a hand. "Lead the way, Sabine"

I can't see her but I know my flair for drama amused her. She probably shook her head before taking my hand and opening the doors. As she gently guides me inside, my heart starts racing in my chest and I smile to myself at my childish excitement. I better cherish it: I am somehow thrilled for my party even if I know it won't have a happy ending...Jamie dear certainly has something in store for me and I'm not sure it's anything good or even remotely pleasant, knowing his wicked plan. I cannot know if he'll succeed in ruining me, his only family in this world, and my reputation, my engagement to Richard; if he won't, he'll try his best to ruin my little happy soirée. That I know for sure. I summon every ounce of hopeful strength inside me and cast those thoughts aside: it's my night tonight and I wanna have a ball. No matter how hard he conspires against me. I deserve a little happiness after all the drama and heartbreak I've endured over the last few days on this Ship of Dreams, right? All I ask is just a jolly night of fun, champagne, good music and the company of my dear ones. I don't care about the others and anything else, honestly. I don't need anything else on my birthday night. Sabine's voice saves me from my own considerations and invites me to open my eyes. I oblige, barely refraining my curiosity, and when I do, the view takes my breath away. The Café Parisien is so...beautiful tonight. The breathtaking views on the ocean are framed by red velvet curtains, just like those used in theaters and cinemas, that now decorate the whole room, replacing the usual graceful ivy. A quintet is harmonising under a white trellis braided with ivy while waiters in impeccable first class uniforms are pouring champagne into flautes. They twinkle like gems at the light. The maestro rushes to hand me one, graciously wishing me a happy birthday and assuring me that they will go above and beyond to provide me and my guest a wonderful night. A night to remember, we say at the same time before he bows and resumes his duties. As he leaves, I realise that there are more wonders in store for me. "Sabine what- what are these?" I gasp, taking in the posters of my pictures and even old plays adorning the walls, surrounded by a display of painted props and what looks like postcards? I take a closer look and pick up one of them, being careful not to cause any damage. On the back someone hand-wrote "promotional picture for The Small-Town Showgirl: très chic!". I smile to myself before placing it back and picking another. I cannot believe how my little Napoleon and Adele managed to find this: an old picture of my last performance in Vienna. I turn it to find another note: "So young, so cute, so talented: go, Zetta!". I chuckle at the cheerfulness of the kind author of this comment and I feel truly touched, thankful: I don't know who they are but their words made this homage to my past even more heartwarming. It is truly a tribute to my career, to me. A testament to what I've achieved so far, to who I am. I couldn't have possibly imagined a better way to celebrate my comeback. This is an ode to my renaissance. "That was Miss Carrem's idea, Madam. She mentioned something about her cabinmate being a huge fan of yours as well as the beholder of a collection of posters and memorabilia of your career. She offered to ask her to let us use it tonight." Sabine explains, still standing where I left her, a few steps away. Another soft smile crosses my face at the mention of Adele. I should have known this was your doing, my love. So thoughtful and sweet, just like you. I shouldn't be surprised: over the last few days you've gone to great lengths to support me and to shake me from my dreamless slumber. You showed me how to be a whole again. "Is Adele's cabinmate on the guest list tonight? I'd like to thank her personally" I say, putting the old picture away and turning to face Sabine. "I'm afraid not...je souis desoleé, Madam, I didn't think of adding Mademoiselle Lena, I think that's the name" my little Napoleon winces. She looks taken aback by my question but genuinely sorry. I reassure her that it's nothing when an idea crosses my mind. "Sabine, book a table here at the Café for tomorrow night. Mademoiselle Lena will be my guest over dinner. I'd be delighted to make her acquaintance and it's the least I can do, she's been so kind and generous with me already" I suggest with a smile. My maid considers it for a minute then nods enthusiastically. It sounds like a good idea to her too. Before I can ask if at least Adele is here, the early guests walk in. I should welcome them properly: I flash a quick knowing smile to Sabine and head towards them: may no one say Zetta is a bad host, I won't allow it! Unsurprisingly, the first to kiss my hand is the Baron. Ha, I bet that old dog will be the first to arrive and the last to leave. As the quintet starts playing, he's followed by Lucille, my dear Lucille. She's dashing at the arm of her dignified athlete husband. She kisses my cheeks and comments that I look gorgeous in the outfit...she helped out picking, I remind her giggling. She looks closer to add conspirationally "gorgeous as a Sultan's favorite, my dear! You'll make heads turn". She winks and we both burst out a laughter clinging our glasses. Then it's time to welcome colleagues and wealthy admirers, fellow first class passengers and moguls. Some are friends, some are merely acquaintances that unwritten laws of society and decorum put on my guest list for the night, others are simply upper-crust sharks. As I slip into the idle chit chat the occasion requires, I check the room for any sign of Adele: where is my love I long so dearly to see again? Instead, I almost bump into James and a shiver runs through my spine at the sight of him. What a practised actor he is - better, thinks he is!- all dressed up to the nines and a smile plastered on his face. He kisses my cheeks and wishes me a happy birthday before assuring me, a disturbing playfulness in his voice, that he has something special in store for me. It takes all my acting mastery to fake a surprised reaction and not betray the pang of ache I felt as his threat in disguise left his mouth. "Always full of surprises, my darling, aren't you?" I comment, smiling but there is little warmth inside my battered heart. I take a relieved sigh when he and Matteo walks away to get drinks. Is this how we were supposed to end, Jamie? My heart rejoices though when I notice Lawrence and Felix approaching: I excuse myself with a colleague and move towards them. I greet them with my most genuine smile and pull them both into a tight hug as if they were an anchor: I can only hope it will convey how much I value their presence here, tonight. We may not be closest pals but we share a deep bond. As we linger in our embrace, I think they feel it too. We start chatting as if we've never left each other side since we left Southampton: they flatter me to no end - oh they're certainly among the most refined smooth talkers I've ever known yet, unlike many, earnest and true- and the conversation quickly turn towards the beauty of the decor and even a little humour. The Baron and a couple of other gentlemen join us: we crack jokes and laugh and I finally seem to relax after my brief conversation with my nephew. I'm sharing a silly story with Lawrence when I hear Felix saying: "Oh look, Miss Carrem is here!" I stop mid sentence and turn my head out of instinct as if her name was a siren's song I can't resist. And then I see her: my wondrous love, radiant in a gorgeous blue outfit adorned with gems, "walking in beauty" into the crowd. I can't refrain myself from calling her name as a renewed cheerfulness spreads through my veins. As she waves at me with a shy smile, I can't bear to stay away from her any longer: I hastily excuse myself and make my way toward her, drawn by that magnetic pull that always tether us to each other. I'm almost out of breath for the excitement and joy to be reunited with her when I finally stand in front of her. How hard is to refrain the instinct to hold her in my arms! "Adele! I've been looking for you!" My eyes falls on the pearls around her neck and I can distinctively feel my heart jumping out of my chest: she's wearing my token of affection. "What a lovely necklace..." My voice is as soft as my smile. And a secretive tenderness is written all over my love's face when our eyes meet again. "Thank you for my party. It's divine!" I say, struggling to hide my true feelings. "Don't thank me, thank Sabine" Adele shrugs, her gaze searching for my maid in the crowd. "Wherever she's fluttered off to..." "Sabine is a hard worker, but hard work is nothing without a bit of creative spark - remember that" I wink at her, handing a cold glass of champagne promptly offered by a zealous waiter. I observe her for a moment as she drinks and enjoy the view of her work. I could look at her all day and still find little details to fall for: the tiny dimples forming on her cheeks as she smiles, the way the light dances in her eyes... As the quintet starts playing a waltz, I ask her if she likes the music and if she knows how to waltz. There is a hint of her irresistible playfulness in the way she rises and eyebrow at me, replaying that alas, Viennese waltz isn't the most popular dance in London pubs and taverns. "Is it by chance similar to ragtime?" We burst into laughter and I forget all the unpleasantness lurking in the dark. "I'll teach you one day, if you'd like" I add, smiling softly just as the bell announces the dinner and we are separated once again. Leaving my love's side, I accidentally brush my hand against hers: please know how hard it is to part from you, Adele, even if just for a bright dinner. As I take my seat, I immediately notice that James managed to find a way to change his assigned seat and breath over Adele's neck. Luckily, Sabine and Matteo seem to share my apprehension and our gazes converge on my nephew smiling in a pretender of lovable politeness to my secretary. My little Napoleon and I exchange a resolute look and I know she will keep an eye on them while I'll be busy entertaining my guests. But first, my speech. Sabine taps lightly on her glass with a fork as I stand, rising my flaute. When all eyes are on me, I put on my brightest smile and speak: "Welcome, old friends and new. I'd like to make a little toast - now, now, Lawrence. Don't groan." "Thank you all for being here with me to celebrate my twentieth birthday!" Soft laughter rings among the tables just as expected. I shrug in an exaggerated yet mischievous show of apology. "That's a joke, of course. You'll never know how old I really am. Let's lift our glasses first to my staff, with whom this night would not be possible" I lift my glass to Sabine before laying my eyes on Adele again. My guests oblige, exchanging smiles. "They planned this in matter of days - a testament to the incredible things that can happen in such a short time" I'm glad that my love meets my eyes now because my words are for her only now. "If you're with the right person, that is" I can't betray myself now, I need to keep the Zetta act on but I think Adele noticed the hint of softness I tried to convey with my last line. It was for you, only you, my love. I turn towards the rest of the table as I continue my speech. "I'm sad my Richard can't be here, but that will only make our reunion in New York that much sweeter. I'm so happy all of you could come in his stead to celebrate this next phase of my life, my love, my work...To you!" Everyone raises their glasses and repeat my refrain. A thrill runs through me and I realises that no matter what lies ahead tonight, I'm...happy now. Just happy as I feel, I sense my renaissance starting, no blossoming inside me. I drain my champagne ecstatically and dab my eyes with a kerchief as I take my seat. The dinner is sublime: I can see my little Napoleon's touch here. Every course is a delight for the eye and an explosion of flavour. Champagne is cold and perfect, a divine nectar, and our glasses are never empty for long. I cheer with pleasure every now and then at a new exquisite delight and I ask the zealous waiters to bring my compliment to the chef more than once. Hope that fella will have such a big head tonight after all the effort and expertise he showed here! I try to check on James and Adele whenever I can but my guests are relentless when it comes to chase my attention. They keep sharing awe and singing the praises for the night as well as asking of Richard, if I've heard from him, how things are in New York and how the new picture is getting along. I bet some are covertly fishing for complementary tickets. Others just want to hear stories from the shiny world of cinema. The usual. But I'm happy to oblige tonight. When the dessert is over and the men start searching their coat pockets for cigars, a group of women gather around me. Champagne made us all a bit more daring and social than usual. A bit tipsy too, yes. I chat a little with them before moving to another group of ladies and then another. I hold court, merry and bright as I'll ever be, and steal furtive glances to my love. My beautiful Adele. I'm distracted by a few ladies asking me about my latest trip to Paris. Everyone loves ever eternal Paris... I can't blame them honestly. Walking down the river, the views of Notre Dame and Montmartre: oh, what a dream is Paris! I'm telling them about the artists painting in the streets when I notice another dream, my Adele, approaching. The French capital suddenly vanishes away in my mind as well as my little adoring audience. I stop mid-sentence, for the second time this evening and stand to meet her. Too tipsy to care about what others might think or if they would ever notice, I wrap her fully in an embrace, inhaling her scent. "It really is a wonderful party, isn't it?" I cheer, beaming at her as we part. "And you're the shining star of it all" Adele's soft smile washes over me and I curse our unfortunate fate. If only I could kiss her right here, right now... "I couldn't have done it without you" I say instead. "In fact...I've been singing your praises all night" A foolish idea hits me like a thunder and I gape to myself before taking her hands into mine. "I insist you meet all my interesting friends and foolish acquaintances!" Adele looks taken aback so before she can react, I wrap my arm with her own and guide her around the room. I get the attention of a group of socialites mingling with a rather popular colleague and introduce her. "This is Adele Carrem, of London" I say, my head high, announcing her like royalty. She deserves it: after all, isn't she the Queen of my heart? We stand like equals here, tonight...since we met, actually. Or at least since I got to know the brave radical standing here at my side. I'm glad to see that everyone treats her with the highest respect: if she's at my arm, she must belong here, they certainly think. I smile approvingly when my young colleague even kiss her hand as he would have done with the wealthiest passengers on board. A couple of directors back from the smoking room join us and the chat gets lively as I discretely play with my hand on the small of her back. One of my guest, Annette, a gracious colleague and friend accidentally met on board asks her about London and our first encounter. I look at my love, unsure of how she would answer to that, how we should answer to that and I see her hesitate a little. My breath catches in my throat even if I try to conceal it but I soon relaxed seeing Adele shrugging nonchalantly, a smile on her lips. "Well, that's a long story..." "The likes of which the world has hardly seen" I complete her sentence with a smirk, amusing our audience with my witty Zetta humour. "Oh, is that how you want to play it?" Adele giggles, making a scene to raise an eyebrow at me. "Why, how do you want to play it? It's true!" I shrug, eliciting new soft laughter. My love playfully dismisses me and turns to my guests. "She's just mad I crushed her at the shuffleboard courts the other day" I let out a hearty laughter. God, it's so easy to fall into an easy rhythm with her, without trying or forcing it. It comes natural, like breathing...as if we were meant to be. "To be precise you didn't crush me. It was almost a tie" "Was it?" Annette inquiry, skeptical and amused by our little show. I hesitate a little, a dramatic pause, my eyes wandering between her and Adele, then I hang my head and groan. "Oh c'mon, she has never played shuffleboard before! Do not butcher my pride!" After my words are welcomed with another round of laughter, Adele starts talking about our time on the ship as if we've known each other for years. I'm so thankful and touched: this is exactly how I feel about her. I wish I knew her earlier. There is warmth, the deep loyalty she showed with deeds not mere words in every little detail she mentions. There is also an affection the world better not see or suspect but people is generally blind to those kind of love and my little revolutionary knows how to be secretive and guarded. When we've made rounds, I need a break. I love the party but I need some fresh air and a private moment with my love. When I see a chance opening, I grab her hand and pull her out into the open air, into the night and to the far end of the deck, toward the end of a row of chairs, where it's quiet. Yes, here it should be safe. We keep silent for a moment than I exhale loudly. "I needed this" I move towards the railing, throwing my head back and breathing in the fresh air of the night. Thank God, the alcohol I had keeps me warm because it's chilly out here. Probably below zero? We must be heading North and we're in the open sea...I bet the water swaying beneath us is freezing. "The quiet?" Adele asks, retrieving a blanket from the chairs. Ah, my most considerate secretary! "Yes, and tonight in general" I consider, rambling as I rest my back on the cold railing. "This party. That food. The wine. It's perfect" "I'm so glad to hear it" Adele smiles, moving closer and wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. "And on top of it all, it's my birthday!" I squeal in a tipsy high pitched voice when she's near enough. My love giggles: yes, I'm probably quite a picture as the fine wine of our dinner is kicking in. She's so beautiful when she laughs, always and her closeness is intoxicating. "What?" I tease her, cocking my head to the side and leaning close enough that my arm touches her. A sparkle of electricity runs up my arm at that casual touch. My eyes quickly stroke her lips before meeting hers again. "Do you have a present for me?" There is no one around, only the faint echo of the quintet playing and the ocean waves. Adele leans in and I smile against her lips as our mouths meet. It's sweet and light, a tender romantic kiss underneath the stars that spread a comforting warmth through my whole body: I don't even need the blanket she's wrapping around my shoulders as she gently pulls me closer. It's been a while since I last felt anything close to this: is this what being in the arms of your love feels like? When we part, we both hesitate. The sounds of the party are distant and there are no passengers or stewards in sight. We smile at each other and kiss again, longer this time but with no hurry or hunger. I touch my hand to her cool cheek: can time stop now? Can a moment last forever? If so, God please let it be this moment when I'm dizzy and drunk of this sweet pure love so far away from land. Eventually we pull back to catch our breath. Before speaking, I take a moment to look at my love smiling softly at me. The gems on her dress twinkle in the dark and I can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. She's my star though, my Northern star casting the brightest light in the dusk of my mad existence. "I've been waiting to do that all night" I sigh contently. As Adele gently strokes my back, I continue unable, unwilling to hide my heart's feelings any longer. "If I'm honest, I don't even want to reach shore, I don't want to go back to the party...I just want to stay out here with you. Forever" My love smiles, tender and pained at the same time. Her voice is as soft as a sweet caress. "I know, I wish this moment didn't have to end" "Let's just make a tent of this blanket - we can live off seal meat and rainwater!" I suggest as the thought of a life lived side by side with her blinds me. We both laugh then Adele speaks again. "What about your acting career?" she inquires, stroking my cheek. "We'll make our own plays. Whaddya say?" I shrug, leaning to the touch. There are so many we cannot say, so many objections but also desperate wishes and dreams on her face. On mine too. I mean it when I said I want to stay here with here forever. I'm not foolish enough to think what I feel blossoming inside me is that ever consuming amour fou immortalised by poets, after what? a couple of days it's too soon to even put a label to it but it's crystal clear to me now that I don't want to part from her. I want her close, near, to warm my troubled soul at the calming yet restless fire burning inside her. Let it kindle what I hid deep inside, away from the prying of the world, and offer it to her, if she wants it too. Sadly, our time is almost over and I embrace Adele tighter when she takes my face in her hands and kiss me again. One last kiss, slow and deep, filled with all we must left unsaid. I return it in kind. When our eyes meet again, I know she felt it too. Our words were silent but we were listening.

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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kngweasley · 4 years

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RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY.

and when my fear pulls me out to sea, and the stars are hidden by my pride and my enemies, I seem to hurt the people that care the most. just like an animal, I protect my pride when I'm too bruised to fight. and even when I'm wrong, I tend to think I'm right.

the PAST.

We know how this goes. Ron Weasley, second youngest of seven, the last son of Arthur and Molly Weasley. What the family lacked in money, they made up for with love. No finery can compare with the warm embrace of his mother after a particularly nasty nightmare. No diamond shines as bright as his father’s eyes as he tinkers with some Muggle trinket, handing over a tool to his youngest son, smiling brighter still as he watches his boy share in his curiosities.

Ron was loved and he was happy, but he was never so certain of himself. He was not the brightest, nor the boldest. He did not tell the best jokes or pull off the greatest pranks. Auntie Muriel never doted on him for being a future heartbreaker. People were not instantly charmed by him. He was never the first pick for a friendly family match of Quidditch.

That’s not to say he wasn’t bright or bold or funny or charming or talented or kind. He was all those things and more. But with six older brothers he admired and a younger sister he adored, he began to feel early on that he would never measure up. He did not want to be just another Weasley. He did not want to be a nobody. He wanted to stand out, to be somebody.

Being friends with Harry Potter made him somebody. He was another red head in hand-me-down robes. He was Ron Weasley, best mate of the Boy Who Lived. And the best part was that Harry did not care one bit that he was not the brightest, nor the boldest, and so on and so forth. Harry cared that someone was kind to him, loyal to him, a true friend to him. Being Harry Potter’s best friend was a great source of pride and joy in Ron’s life.

The fought real and metaphorical beasts side by side. They obsessed over Quidditch, laughed at nonsense, talked about everything there was to talk about (well, nearly everything). There were low points, where the idea of fame and fortune clouded Ron’s judgement and led him to lose sight of how precious, how genuine his friendship with Harry was. There were challenging times when Ron, try as he might, could not get through to Harry. Could see his pain, but could not understand it. Jealousy and pride rattled in his brain when he knew better.

He got a lot of things wrongs. He got a lot of things right. One day he realized that what they faced was bigger than nobodies and somebodies. He knew there would be losses. He never would have guessed how many. He never would have guessed who.

When Harry Potter died, he took a fair chunk of Ron Weasley with him to the grave.

Fred’s death stung. Ron could feel as an ache in his chest, a heavy weight on his shoulders. His brother’s corpse haunted him each time he closed his eyes. He struggled to look George in the eye for well over a year. Fred’s death was pain and guilt.

Harry’s death was anger and denial. Neither can live while the either one survives. Didn’t that mean one of them got to survive? The war was over, Voldemort was defeated, yet Ron still felt that he had lost. He had not considered a world where they won but Harry was not there to celebrate with. So much of who he had grown to be was because of his friendship with Harry Potter. Who was Ron Weasley without him?

First, he was depressed. Never had there been a more dreary atmosphere than that of the Burrow in the months following the war. Without Harry by his side, Ron did not feel that same drive to become an Auror and wipe out the remaining Death Eaters that he did in canon. Someone else could do the dirty work, for once. He wanted a break. He rarely left his room, with the exception of funerals and memorials, for the first month. Eventually, he ventured to other parts of the house (once he regained his appetite and remembered he much he loved his mother’s cooking). He did chores without being asked and became quite enamored with gardening and yard-work. He built a new shed for his family without using magic -- it was far from a masterpiece, but it still stands to this day.

Slowly but surely he began coming around Weasley Wizard Wheezes more and more. It felt good to work at the shop. He kept busy and held Fred close to his heart with day of productivity. As a member of the ‘Golden Trio’ and closest friend of Harry Potter he was the subject of some media coverage. For the most part, he ignored it. He didn’t care to offer generic platitudes for the Daily Prophet. He didn’t have answers for the questions thrown at him by faceless reporters, cameras flashing and mics far too close to his face. He wanted to find peace. He wanted to make sense of the senseless. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to blend in, to be one of the masses. To be a nobody.

THE PRESENT.

Ron is still the Ron we all know and love (assuming you know and love him). He loves butterbeer and the Chudley Canons. He tends to speak before thinking and he often makes colorful comments that have his mother scolding him. He is more confident than his eleven year old self (as many of us are). He does not feel the need to prove himself worthy of attention and praise. He does not feel that he is competing with his siblings. He gets up each morning and simply tries his best because that’s all anyone can do anymore. He works hard, because he cares about his work. He is still prone to procrastination when an unfavorable task comes his way. It’s possible he does indeed have the emotional range of a teaspoon.

He is still Ron Weasley. He reminds himself of this each morning. He is still Ron, he is still a Gryffindor, he is still a lionheart, he is still him even when it feels like such a significant portion of him is missing. He wakes up and faces the day because there’s nothing else for him to do. In so many ways, he is simply making it through the day. Ron Weasley is alive, but it’s hard to say if he’s truly living.

THE PERSONALITY.

WAND: 14″ larch with unicorn hair core PATRONUS: Jack Russell Terrier (loyal, playful, hungry) ZODIAC: Pisces (b. March 1, 1996) – devoted, compassionate, sensitive, moody, distant TEMPERAMENT: sanguine MBTI: ESFP (extroversion - sensing - feeling - perception) VIRTUES: courage, generosity, wit, honesty, loyalty VICES: envy, jealousy, indolence

OOC NOTES.

First thing: AVPM!Ron is more Ron than Movie!Ron.

Second thing: I am a Ron Weasley STAN. Not because I think he is perfect and incapable of doing anything bad ever. In fact! I adore him because of how wonderfully flawed and human Ron is. He is a loyal and true friend, but he can be a bit of an ass. He is funny, but too often at the expense of others. Hermione is incredibly bright, Harry is the Chosen One, and Ron is...Ron. Average on paper, but exceptional simply because he chooses to be. He has moments of selfishness

I love Ron Weasley. JKRowling, Heyman, and Koves can get fucked.

Third thing: Hi! Feel free to message me here on or on Discord if you want to plot/make some decisions over what is and what is not canon in this universe. For me, everything is canon for Ron right up until Harry goes to the forest. After that, it’s all still a bit up in the air.

#nox.intro #87 years later!!

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mixtapeonwheels · 4 years

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How do you destroy love before it truly blossoms

Okay, so, spoiler alert, I don’t THINK I want kids.

And i really hate how when you tell people that, they immediately jump to the “oh, you will eventually, I was the same way when I was younger.”

Man, I’m 28. I definitely haven’t spent much time on Earth in the grand scheme of things, and maybe it’ll change, but I’m not about to get anyone I date hyped up on the fact that I’m ready to start baking a bun in the oven. I’m not. I’m too focused on my own life and the goals i want to accomplish, and I think part of me sees a child as standing in the way of that.

Do I want to be a uncle? Hell yes. That’ll be cool as shit. Take them little tykes on adventures, buy them sweet presents, and be that awesome uncle that always comes back with a cool story or a new souvenir for them. That sounds wicked.

But, the one thing I’ve consistently thought about is - how do you tell a child the love they experience with a girlfriend of a boyfriend, won’t last forever?

It can’t. And maybe it shouldn’t. If I think back to the person I was the first time i was in love, I was immature, and inexperienced, and I don’t think I had any real idea of what I wanted out of life. She was wonderful, but she was very jealous, and we fought often. It’s easy to paint a picture of a perfect relationship because I still have her as a friend. In fact, I still consider her one of the most genuinely good people I’ve ever met. But that relationship was a rollercoaster, and when it ended, it was meant to. We both needed to grow, to be with other people, to live our lives. We needed to experience heartbreak, and go on wild adventures, and experience the world beyond the view we saw through each other. And I’m thankful that though we were distant for some time, we were able to come back and have some semblance of a friendship.

But I’ve also been in other relationships. I’ve had some that were good for a time, and turned to bad. I’ve had others that were the definition of emotionally abusive and manipulative. How did my parents sit there and watch that happen, all the while hoping, and maybe even knowing that it wouldn’t last? How does anyone watch someone struggle, and know that they NEED to struggle to find themselves in the darkness?

I was a kid that always did, always does, think about love. I’ve been in love before, and each one, for a time, was wonderful. Sometimes love can get stale, if not tended to in the right ways by both parties. I think the most important thing I’ve realized is how to keep love fresh, and how to work at it, day by day, like a garden that you need to water and take care of. Sometimes I miss it, and other times I don’t. I miss parts of it, like the feeling that another human being wholly knows you, inside and out. That you can tell them anything, and be anything around them, and they’ll love you regardless of the weirdness and quirkiness that you reveal. Maybe they’ll love you because of that. And there are other times I don’t miss it. I don’t miss the uneasiness that comes with a fight. The feeling that your heart isn’t under your own control anymore - it’s in the palm of another, and whether they choose to tend to it or to crush it is not your decision. Most of all, I don’t miss the feeling when you know it’s going to end. When your entire body gets warm during that silence, the silence that follows the question, “What’s going on?” or, “Are things okay between us?”

I don’t understand how you explain any of that to a kid. In a small way, it’s like when I tutor my students. They come to me sometimes with different life questions, depending on the relationship we’ve built. It’s never the guys, it’s always the girls. But sometimes they ask me about boyfriends, or dating, or life in general. If I’m dating, they ask how we met, when I knew I liked her, weird things like that. Sometimes I tell them, sometimes I don’t. It depends on the situation, the student, the relationship we’ve built. And I trust my own moral compass and my skills of reading individuals to know if they’re asking for the right reasons.

But how do I look at one of those students, and tell them that I’ve heard this story before, the reasons they’re not good together, and that it won’t last. If it doesn’t, it was never meant to. He’s too immature, and soon you’ll realize why women date up in age. The maturity just isn’t there, especially in your early 20s. And if anyone reading this decides they want to challenge me on that, please do. But I’ve had too many experiences, some my own, some of others, to believe that early 20s men and women can handle the relationship that I think they THINK they want. There’s too much life to live. Realistically, I think you’re meant to spend your 20s figuring yourself out. Having experiences, meeting people, and then discovering what elements of everything you’ve been through you want to retain. Maybe you want the travel of the vagabond lifestyle, but not the potential homelessness. Maybe you want the passion that comes along with that relationship, but not the abuse, not the manipulation, not the fights. Maybe you want the stability that comes with owning property, but not the white picket fence, the 2.5 children, or the minivan freshly-washed in the driveway.

How does anyone tell a child that? How did my mom not tell me when i came to her at 10 years old telling her that I was in love with a girl named Christina, that it wouldn’t work? That it couldn’t? I admire the fact that she let me suffer, but never tried to logic it out. Never told me that it was statistically impossible to meet my match at a young age and marry that same person. Maybe she realized there was no way for her to know anyways. Maybe she had the wisdom to see that if this love was meant to last, if it was meant to grow, who was she to say otherwise?

That’s where I get lost. I think I’ve known for a very long time that my parents were just guessing at what they were doing. I think there were two very distinctive moments i noticed growing up around them: I knew when my parents’ dating advice became real, and I knew when they decided they were ‘done parenting’.

The first came for my mom, when she gave me the best advice she’s given me to date. I was 20 years old. I was desperately in love with the girl I was dating, but we were having problems that were insurmountable for our age. We were fighting constantly. I was so torn. I loved her, but we NEEDED to break up. We needed to grow. And she said, “Look, there’s two ways this goes. Either you fix things because you KNOW you’re getting married, or you break up because you don’t.” And in that moment, I knew what my decision had to be. For my dad, it was when I was 22, and I had gotten into a massive fight with my then girlfriend. He told me to be silent for a few days, eventually making her think I was going to break up with her, when i just wanted time to think and process - maybe even make her suffer a bit (cruel, I know). Spoiler alert - it didn’t work.

The second moment came slowly over time. My mom started telling me about the arguments she had with different people. And when I would tell her she was acting a fool and needed to grow up in that particular situation, she listened. My dad on the other hand, started telling me more dating stories, more stories of fights he got into as a young man. They didn’t make me think less of him - if anything, both of these occurrences made me think more of my parents. They believed in our relationship enough and valued me enough as a son to know that I needed to see their real sides. We had finally reached this point where we could transition from a purely parent-child relationship to some sort of parent-friend-companion hybrid. I consider them two of my closest friends because of the amount I share with them, and also because of the amount they share with me.

In closing, if there ever really is a closing to any of my blog posts, I try not to edit these things. These are unedited thoughts, and for anyone that likes to read them, you can see the way my brain jumps around a bit. Depending on where my anxiety is at in my life, it will jump around more, or less. I know at this moment, I have no desire to be a parent. I don’t know if that will change in the future, but I don’t want to be strung up by some potential partner through my own words of uncertainty, so I rarely tell anyone that. I need my life to develop in certain ways before I could ever consider giving it all up, even for a few years, for a small, potato-faced object (fun fact, that was taken from a mom friend of mine). There’s a little honesty for you, I guess.

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sassyhazelowl · 5 years

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Fairy Tail Pride

Day 18 Prompt: “I promised not to fall in love and that I wouldn’t drink too much” Pairing: gay!Sting x demi-ace!Rogue Additional Notes: For anon who asked for demi Rogue, although they did not specify a pairing, so I chose who Rogue is closest to in canon (that isn’t a cat). Fun fact, I re-wrote this fic three times. Thank you @tbehartoo for helping me out. @ft-wwtdp

~*~

If Rogue had known how the night was going to go down, he would’ve stayed home. Seriously. Making two promises he couldn’t keep in one night was a real blow.

First, Rogue was partial to the hard liquor. He knew it, Sting knew it, everyone knew it. His tolerance level wasn’t half bad either, but he was a major stress drinker.

Second, Rogue wasn’t expecting to be hit like a lightning bolt in the middle of the dance floor, doing what he’d done for years - goofing around with his best friend. One moment he’s being dragged out to dance, the next he’s having very disturbing thoughts and feelings about said friend that definitely weren’t there moments ago, days ago, weeks ago or years ago.

“Rogue, you ok, there?” Sting’s blue eyes twinkled in the low light and his earring glistened. Rogue’s eyes slid down his chest, The beat blared behind them and the world twirled around them. Rogue couldn’t process or deal.

Thump.

“So, no,” Sting answered himself cheerfully, “Rogue, you always do this! You need to lay off for once and enjoy a night out without getting yourself plastered, bud.”

Rogue nearly slithered out of his skin when he felt a hefty thump and sweaty body land next to him in the booth. The empty glasses rattled softly at the impact, reminding him he hadn’t even been acquainted with restraint the entire evening. Sting’s big hand made a smaller thump as it landed on his hunched shoulders and started rubbing with affectionate comfort.

It was no different than any other night at the club, really, but it was also nothing like those other nights, and Rogue urgently wanted to vomit when he considered it. Only Sting’s lap and obscenely expensive shoes stopped him from decorating the table and his own lap.

“Sting, air…” it felt so needy to ask, and if it weren’t Sting, he wouldn’t have. But he trusted Sting not to make an issue out of it, or to drop him. He trusted Sting for so many things.

“Okay then, up you go!” Not only did the other Dragon Slayer have a supernatural tolerance for alcohol, he had a sweet tooth that should knock him unconscious, yet he never seemed impaired. The drunker he got, the louder and more cheerful he was, but he talked and walked just fine and never threw up or got hungover. Rogue hated him sometimes but it was hard to hold a grudge against his good fortune when he used it to haul Rogue’s uncooperative body outside to cool down. “Whoops, steady there.” Rogue nearly cried as Sting saved him from the pavement by crushing him bodily against the wall. All that filled his nose was Sting’s musky scent, and the only thing he could focus on was Sting’s touch and all that he heard was Sting’s breathing.

“R-rogue…” the panic in his friend’s voice nearly made him stop, he should stop, but it was so hard to resist. “What… dude, you’re really drunk if you’re sucking my shoulder. Ouch, no biting. Let’s get you home.”

Rogue was drunk but he wasn’t gone.

Reluctantly, he leaned his weight back on the wall and let the back of his skull clunk on the bricks. It felt good enough he did it a few more times before Sting stopped him by gently cupping the back of his neck. It felt strangely good and right and he felt like he might be turning his legs into noodles.

“Why’d you do that, Rogue?” Sting’s voice held a note of timid curiosity but his eyes were hopeful. Rogue looked away, feeling the pressure baring down, “I-I’m not sure.”

His toes curled in his shoes as Sting leaned his face closer, “Would you like to try a bit higher?”

Rogue pondered the offer before swaying on his tiptoes to press a sloppy kiss on Sting’s nose earning a muffled snort-laugh from the man.

His blue eyes twinkled merrily, “Here.”

The kiss pressed to his lips was feather-light, a mere brush, and at this point he’d put his arms around Sting’s shoulders to steady himself. It felt so familiar he thought nothing of leaning his head against Sting, just for another deep sniff, and the feeling of safety that engulfed him. It didn’t occur to him to keep kissing.

“Finally gave in to my charm, huh?”

“No,” Rogue instinctively retorted feeling soberness creeping up. But he made no effort to move, content, trusting Sting to take care of him. Sting appeared perfectly content to do just that, solid as a rock. Rogue winced at the cramp in his calf and shifted what seemed like ages later. “Sting?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” came the sincere, easy response. Sting added, “We should go home.”

Rogue didn’t answer, his eyelids drooping. He didn’t comment when they turned away from the direction of his apartment. The trip was spent in a companionable silence, Sting lending a steadying hand and shoulder. It wasn’t different and yet it was.

Had Rogue not been filled with liquid courage, he might have panicked or denied the shift between them the night had brought. He’d already told Sting he wasn’t interested, that he wasn’t interested in anyone, and it was always like that. They’d known each other since they were kids - Sting was always going on and on about some crush or other, some celebrity lust or other, and Rogue never did. And now he was going back on that? He worried Sting might think he’d been faking or that Minerva would give him a glare that said see, you like him you dolt. That he’d been broken before and somehow Sting had fixed him... the worries were endless, if he thought about them.

“Rogue.”

“What?”

“Your overthinking,” Sting chided, flicking his forehead before letting go to fumble to put in the magic code for the door. A small chime greeted them and the door slid open, a wave of smell hit Rogue from inside the apartment. It smelled clean but also of Sting, Lector and the scents of home.

He retorted archly, “I’m not.”

“I thought you weren’t into me.”

“I wasn’t.” Rogue wasn’t, hadn’t been.

“But now you are?” Sting pressed, “Rogue, I need to know if this is a weird fluke where you morphed into an affection drunk who won’t remember it tomorrow, so I can joke it off.”

“I...I think I am,” Rogue admitted quietly, careful to kick off his shoes. Sting had a shoe-free apartment and the rule was implemented strictly. For all his careless, cocky bluster, the man was particular about his living space and personal hygiene. “I… Sting, please don’t joke it off. Let me figure things out. This is… new… to me.”

Sting sighed in surrender, never able to deny Rogue a genuine request, “No promises, but I’ll try. You know I don’t like being played with, Rogue. My heart is a big ol’ softy about relationships.”

Rogue nearly snapped he’d never play games and he’d always wanted a romantic relationship but was worried about the sex but instead grabbed Sting’s hand, tugging him towards the sanctuary of the bedroom. Sting was right; he was a big softy. Last time his boyfriend had broken up with him he’d been an inconsolable mess and stayed single ever since. Rogue vividly remembered because he’d been there to pick up the pieces. He never imagined he might be the heartbreaker, and that scared him.

“Bed, now,” Rogue grumped, much too sober now. He flopped down on the other side before sighing, knowing he wouldn’t sleep like this, and inching his way over. Tangling up, he cuddled in tight, letting Sting’s heartbeat lull him. Before the liquor totally left him, he murmured into the broad chest before him, “Sting, I love you.”

“Of course you do.”

“No jokes,” Rogue warned and Sting sniped back, “No half-truths.”

“Deal.”

He nearly drifted off when he heard the whisper so tiny he might have imagined it, “I love you too. Always have. Always will. Trust me enough to tell me when you’re ready; that’s all I ask.”

#fairy tail #fanfic #mine #stingue #ftlgbtpride2019

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poorguysheadcanon · 5 years

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Whizzer’s Got A Type

ohhhhhhhh my god you guys so basically when i started this side blog i did not think i was going to be writing any full-length fics. this all changed when i started rewatching the show Smash and came up with might be my favorite headcanons i’ve ever had??? but anyway, after like 10 days of writing, editing, and countless conversations about these characters, i have about 3200 words of a fic i genuinely enjoy, and i hope yall do too!! also, huge huge thank you to @browniemixinawaffleiron, @sandfordsmostwanted, and @cookies-for-all for helping me with this!!!

After Marvin had gotten back from work today, he and Whizzer had fought for hours. Whizzer was late to making dinner and Marvin had been livid. The younger man had enough of his boyfriend’s screams and decided he was done playing housewife for the day. He grabbed his jacket and walked around for a while before eventually finding the closest bar, knowing he needed a drink or two. As Whizzer approached the bar, he saw the back of a man’s head that he knew he could recognize anywhere. His face flushed with anger and he began yelling insults at his boyfriend while hitting his shoulder. How dare he come here? Whizzer was the one who needed this bar, not Marvin who had booze at his place. As he began to say something particularly cruel, a man with a soft confused expression turned around. This man, who looked exactly like Marvin, glanced up at Whizzer and said “Well, I’m certainly happy I’m not actually the guy you’re so pissed at. Care to explain?” and Whizzer sat down next to his boyfriends' doppelganger, got them both a drink and explained his situation. He spared no detail and ended the story with him walking out mere hours ago. The man, who had introduced himself as Tom Levitt, was interested in every word Whizzer had to say. Whizzer was certainly not used to the look on Tom’s face, one of sincerity. He hadn’t seen that since he started sleeping with Marvin. When Whizzer finished up his tale, Tom shook his head before raising his hand to get the bartender’s attention. “You are definitely in need of another drink,” he said before ordering another round for the two of them. They talked for a few more hours at the barstools until their conversation moved to a taxi, and then Toms’ apartment, and the conversation seemed to cease once they reached Tom’s bed.

The next morning, Tom rolled over to find a handsome man in his bed and he smirked to himself. He carefully got up, not wanting to wake the man sleeping peacefully, and got up to make them both some tea. As he was taking the kettle off the stove, he felt strong arms wrap around his waist from behind him. He smiled a bit when a kiss was pressed to his cheek before he felt Whizzer’s head rest on his shoulder for a second before he walked over and sat on Tom’s couch. They drank their tea in comfortable silence before Whizzer finally spoke up. “Well, I should probably get back to the war zone… try and smooth things over.”

Tom felt his heart pang but he pushed it down, offering a smile and a kiss on the cheek instead. “I wish you all my luck, but do call me again if he ever acts as dumb as he did last night.”

And call him again he did. Sooner than Tom expected, if he was honest. They had little fights here and there for about a week but things got back to normal. Well, normal for them. But after a little while, they had another big fight and Toms’ phone buzzed during a late night writing session with Julia. Tom sheepishly explained his plight to his best friend who promptly rolled her eyes while telling him this affair was an awful idea. “Tom, sweetheart, sleeping with this guy just because you look like his boyfriend is a terrible idea. This is just gonna end up hurting you in the end.” Tom just shook his head and began grabbing his coat before saying, “Well Jules, not all of us have men falling at our feet. This is what I have. Plus, he’s great in bed and shares my taste in tea. So I like it, no matter how it ends.”

After about a month of this went on, Whizzer going behind Marvin’s back far more frequently than he originally intended to. Eventually, this all had to come to a stop. One morning, Whizzer had forgotten to cover up the hickeys on his neck and Marvin took notice. Marvin questioned him and Whizzer revealed what had been happening, making jokes about Marv’s cute little doppelganger and calling him Marvin’s “better half.” Marvin hid his heartbreak behind more arguments and after two full days of screaming matches, their 9 month (10 month) relationship ended after a game of chess. Whizzer called Tom, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice as he walked out of Marvin’s place with his bag. Tom was actually in the middle of a workshop for he and Julia’s musical but as soon as he heard the other man’s tone, he called out for the rest of the day and met him at his own apartment. He made Whizzer tea and sat on the couch with him, rubbing his arms every once in a while. Whizzer got tired and laid his head on Tom’s lap, prompting him to play with his hair. Whizzer fell asleep and Tom smiled contently. He took this as a good sign. The sleeping man was now single and still chose to spend his time with Tom, that had to mean something. Tom had thought before that he was getting too attached to Whizzer, but when he looked down and saw him all curled up, Tom decided he got attached just the right amount.

A few months went by and the two men grew closer, all while not getting too serious. Whizzer spent almost all of his at Tom’s apartment, content to spend his time listening to Tom and sometimes Julia work on the Marilyn Monroe musical that he was about 90% sure they were calling Bombshell. Tom even got Whizzer to sing a few times, which Whizzer was sure wasn’t beneficial to anyone unless Tom was curious if his songs could still sound decent if someone tone deaf sang them. When Tom wasn’t working, he and Whizzer would go out to various bars together. It was a happy blur for six months. Life was much calmer for Whizzer like this; no bickering, no insults, just kisses and affection. And although it was nice, something still felt off. Whizzer liked Tom, he really did. Not only was he sweet and funny, he just so happened to look exactly like the man he had loved. It was the perfect scenario, Marvin’s looks but a kind personality. He should have been head over heels for Tom, but he wasn’t. Tom wasn't Marvin and Whizzer needed to find a way out before he hurt Tom, more than he probably already was going to.

Tom had been in rehearsals all day, Bombshell was two weeks away from going to Boston and everyone was on high alert. At least when night fell, Tom went home to find Whizzer at his apartment most days. Nothing made him happier, his work life was starting to come together (even though it was beyond stressful) and his home life felt happier than it ever had before. He came home to something that shook his world that day though, Whizzer packing a bag. He coughed a bit to let his presence be known and Whizzer looked at him with a pained expression. “I hoped I had finished packing before you got back, but we need to talk.”

Tom bit his lip but nodded, sitting down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Whizzer sat down next to him and put a hand on Toms' leg. Whizzer attempted to explain how he was feeling carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tom but he knew that was unavoidable. He did the best he could to soften the blow. Tom was holding up okay, all things considered. Hiding his emotions when he needed to was one of his best talents. That all went out the window when he tried to mumble out, “Are you… are you going back to him?” And all of a sudden, Tom was a puddle of tears and Whizzer didn’t know what to do. He wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back.

“No.. Not yet at least. He’s just on my mind still, I don’t think he’s leaving it any time soon. And it’s not fair to you that I keep this going, as much as I want to. Because I really like you, Tom, you’re such a great guy. It’s just not fair to you. I’m so sorry, Tom,” he whispered and continued to rub his back. Tom quickly forced himself to calm down and he wiped his eyes, looking at Whizzer before kissing his cheek.

“You’re a great guy too Whizz, if you do go back to him, make sure he deserves you. You deserve to be treated so much better than what you got before, if you do ever go back to him make sure you’re treated with respect.” He said and got up slowly, wiping his eyes again. Whizzer got up as well and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself Tom,” he said before quickly grabbing the rest of his stuff and walking out, leaving Tom alone, completely heartbroken.

Tom sat for a while on the couch, drinking scotch and trying not to cry again. He eventually called Julia, not trusting his voice but knowing she would understand him. She picked up and immediately heard his shaky breath. “Tom, what happened?”

He sniffled a bit and mumbled out a quiet “He left… he... He said he still loved his ex and that it wasn’t fair to me or something…?” and Julia grabbed her coat and began to walk over to his apartment. Tom sighed and said “You were right, I guess. Don’t tell me you told me so though.” Julia chuckled sadly “Of course I’m not gonna tell you I told you so, at least not for a few days.” They stayed up a few hours drinking and talking about the men in their lives, eventually passing out on Toms’ couch.

Almost a year and a half after that night, things were looking up for both Tom and Whizzer. Whizzer and Marvin were back together, much happier than they ever had been before. Marvin had grown a lot over the course of their breakup and treated Whizzer with respect, something the younger man didn’t think Marvin was capable of the last time around. Bombshell had finally made it to Broadway and things were going really well for Tom, he was even nominated for a Tony for Best Director. With the two of them so busy, they rarely thought of each other. This changed the night of the Tony Awards while Whizzer was sick in bed.

After a day of being pampered by Marvin, Whizzer was curled up in his boyfriend’s arms in bed. Whizzer was very whiny when he was sick, even though all he had was a common cold. Marvin made sure each of Whizzers’ requests were met, even the ridiculous ones like having his bath at exactly 107 degrees. The day was finally winding down and the two had the Tonys on as background noise. Everything was quiet in a comfortable way until a certain someone's name was called out on the TV for Best Original Score. Although Whizzer had complained of a sore throat all day, he screamed. That was Tom, his Tom, on his TV screen accepting an award. After his general excitement died down, he explained to Marvin who that was. Marvins face paled a bit when he realized this was his so-called “better half” doppelganger that Whizzer had been with all those months ago. Whizzer was too caught up in his excitement to notice, already grabbing his laptop to look for tickets. “Marv, we have to see it. We have to go see Tom’s show, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.” The older man just sighed, knowing there was no way around this, and took out his credit card.

The soonest the two men could get tickets was two weeks away and Whizzer was both counting down the days and incredibly anxious all at once. On the one hand, he was so excited to see this show. He remembered the days he spent watching Tom and Julia write songs, the times he would stop into the workshop to see Tom at work, and of course all the times Tom would sing various Bombshell songs to him. On the other hand, seeing this show meant seeing Tom again. After leaving Tom’s apartment that night, Whizzer hadn’t seen the man. As much as he wanted to see Tom, he was scared that Tom didn’t want to see him.

The day finally came and Marvin and Whizzer arrived to the theatre, dressed to the nines. They had relatively close seats and Whizzer was so excited. The second the curtain opened, he was in a trance. The show was fantastic and he felt an overwhelming sense of pride for Tom. By the act one closer, Whizzer had already cried twice. The first time was during “Never Give All The Heart” because he could just hear Tom’s struggles with love in there. Even though Marilyn (or more accurately Ivy) was singing, he knew that this song was personal to his ex. He cried once more at the act one finale, holding Marvin’s hand so tight the older man thought he was losing circulation. During intermission, the two stood in the lobby discussing the plot and how much Whizzer adored it. Marvin did as well, but with his underlying anxieties about Tom, he didn’t want to admit how fantastic it really was.

In the middle of their conversation, a staff member came walking up to the pair. “Mr. Brown? Tom Levitt has asked that you and your guest come to the stage door after the show so he can give you a tour.” Whizzer smiled excitedly and nodded his head, thanking them as they walked off. It was really happening, after all this time he really was going to see Tom again. Just as he was about to talk with Marvin about it, the lights flashed as a signal that intermission was about to end. They quickly found their seats again and the curtain rose again for the second act. This act also made Whizzer emotional but nothing could have prepared him for the death grip on his hand during “Hang the Moon.” He glanced over at Marvin to see what was wrong and he saw him desperately trying to hold back tears. Whizzer rubbed his arm gently and leaned over to whisper to him, “Love it’s okay to cry, no one’s gonna see you.” And that was all Marvin needed to let his tears flow. When the lights came on after curtain call, Marvin was still desperately wiping at his cheeks to get rid of the evidence of his emotions. Whizzer gently wiped them away while softly telling him that it was normal for him to be crying. “Whizz it’s stupid, I shouldn’t be crying over a- I’m a grown man.”

“Marvin. It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry whenever you’d like. There’s nothing not normal about crying. You’ve seen me cry a bunch of times, is that not normal?”

“No, but that’s differ-“

“No it’s not babe, we’re both grown men. We both have emotions. It’s perfectly alright to let them show.”

Marvin stayed quiet for a second and wrapped his arms around Whizzer, thankful he had someone like him in his life. “Thank you, Whizz. I needed that.” The younger man gave his boyfriend a soft but sweet kiss before taking his hand and beginning to make their way to the stage door.

Once they reached the door, Whizzer pressed the buzzer and waited for the stage manager to open the door for them. He smiled and thanked the woman who led them back to Tom. It was now Whizzer’s turn to have a death grip on his boyfriend's hand. He released it the second Tom saw the two of them and was walking over with open arms. Whizzer quickly hugged him with a smile, Marvin standing back slightly to let the two have their moment. They exchanged pleasantries before Whizzer began to praise Bombshell. “Tom it's magical, really. I haven’t enjoyed a show this much in a long time. I just can’t believe those songs you’d sing to me have turned into this.”

Tom smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “Well it wasn’t just me, it was Julia, and Derek, and Eileen, and-”

“Tom stop, give yourself some credit. You’re so unbelievably talented, I’m so happy I get to see you shine like this.”

Tom blushed a bit and touched his shoulder. “Thank you, really Whizz. I’m so happy you got to see this show outside of me drunkenly singing to you.” When Marvin saw the blush creep onto Tom’s face, he walked up and put his arm around his boyfriend’s waist. Tom looked over at him and his eyes got wide for a second before going back to his signature smile. “Ah, you must be the famous Marvin. So happy to meet you.” They shook hands, Marvin making sure he had a firm handshake. Tom tensed a bit when he felt his hand crushed by Marvin’s but he just continued to smile.

Marvin would eventually walk off to let them talk once he was sure Tom wasn’t a threat. He walked over to Leigh Conroy, looking particularly starstruck. Whizzer looked over at him and saw his boyfriends eyes light up. He laughed slightly and looked back at Tom with a smile. “So… you and Marvin seem to have worked out, I’m really happy for you. He’s treating you better, right?”

“Yeah, so much better. It’s like night and day honestly, he’s wonderful,” he said as he glanced over at Marvin again, sighing happily. “So, enough about my relationship. Have you found anyone?” Whizzer asked him, hoping he found someone that gave him the love he gave others.

“I did, he sits on my desk all day and spins, his name is Tony.”

“...Tom”

“No, I did.. One of them left and one… well, one died.” He said and looked down and Whizzer put his hand on his arm.

“Tom I’m so sorry.”

Tom nodded and smiled sadly. “Me too.” The two talked for a while, happy to catch up with each other. Their conversation eventually died down when Ivy walked up to Tom and cuddled up to his arm, knowing exactly who Whizzer was and how badly he had hurt Tom.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” She said with a smile while giving him a slight side eye. Ignoring the side eye, Whizzer smiled.

“Oh my god, you’re Ivy Lynn. You were absolutely amazing in the show. I’m Whizzer, an old friend of Tom’s.” She smiled politely and thanked him before reminding Tom of plans they had for that night. Whizzer smiled softly. “We should probably get going anyway. It was great seeing you again Tom, really. Don’t be a stranger,” he said before giving him a quick hug and walking off to find Marvin.

“So that’s Whizzer, huh? Seems cute enough, but you really still think he was worth the heartache?” Ivy asked and looked up at Tom.

“Yeah... Yeah, I think he was.”

#Falsettos #falsettos fanfic #falsettos fic #whizzer brown #marvin falsettos #marvin x whizzer #tom levitt #smash nbc #tom levitt smash #falsettos headcanons #joanie rambles #My writing #smash nbc headcanons #falsettos hcs #falsettos headcanon

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p-and-p-admin · 5 years

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Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group. (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/ Hello CRMediaGal and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many of our members will know your Unquestionable Love series.

We’re grateful you can spend some time with us today.

Okay, so let's jump into it!

What’s the story behind your pen name?

CR is an abbreviation for “cracked rendition” and that comes from the excerpt from a poem I’ve loved since I was young. Years ago, to help put myself through art college, I did web design on the side and called my little company Cracked Rendition Designs. When I created my pen name, I combined all of these elements together to make CRMediaGal (for some illogical reason I thought it was a solid name at the time lol) and, to this day, I still think about changing my pen name altogether. I figure it’s too late for that now, though.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Luna Lovegood. I wish I’d had her self-assurance and confidence in who she is at that age but, that aside, I identify with how she’s a bit of a loner, an oddball, and tends to be left out (or does until she finds her Hogwarts friends). I’ve really struggled with being an outsider most of my life, so it’s comforting to see that representation in literature but through a young woman who possesses the self-confidence people like myself often lack.

Do you have a favourite genre to read?

I tend to love period dramas, so a lot of the classic novels are my favourites (i.e. Austen, Henry James, etceteras).

Do you have a favourite “classic” novel?

The Portrait of a Lady is one of my favourite novels. I reread it every couple of years.

At what age did you start writing?

I’ve been writing since I was very little, so probably seven, eight, nine-ish? I used to be much more of an artist/sketcher than a writer, so I’d make up stories and write and sketch and staple them together all day long lol.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

After watching Deathly Hallows: Part 2 at the cinema in 2011. Severus Snape’s death hit me hard all over again (I hadn’t read the last book in a few years), and I decided that I desperately needed to change that for myself lol. Unquestionable Love is the first fanfic (SSHG) I ever wrote and it’s become an ongoing series, so I’m grateful to have gotten the “spark” to write fanfic from somewhere around that time. I decided in 2011 to try my hand at “fleshing out” my little Snape family that had been mucking about in my head for much longer than that.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I’m a total sucker for the brooding, self-loathing male who thinks himself unworthy of love and redemption and the sunshine, kick-arse lady, aka Centre of His World, who loves him back to life. #GimmeMorePleaseandThankYou

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

I’ve written fics for Star Wars (ReyBen/Reylo is another one of my favourite ships outside of SSHG), The Hobbit (Thranduil/Tauriel), and Les Miserables (Enjonine).

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Severus Snape’s death (he’s NOT dead! #nope #denial4ever).

My favourite piece of fanon is probably Severus being Draco’s godfather. Regardless of where it originated from, I’m all for it.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

I used to need complete solitude and quiet to write, but nowadays I can write with some instrumental music playing in the background. It depends on where my headspace is at.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

I don’t read much fanfic anymore, as it’s hard enough for me to find time for my own writing…but off the top of my head, I’d probably have to go with a “classic” - The Tattered Man (SSHG) by Aurette. It’s gutting and heart-wrenching and doesn’t have a happy ending, but it’s a hauntingly beautiful piece that stays with you.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I’m somewhere in the middle. I tend to plot out certain points I want to hit from chapter to chapter (if it’s a multi-chapter fic and heavy on plot, for instance), but writing is an organic process and I enjoy allowing my muse to surprise me as well.

What is your writing genre of choice?

A good mixture of Angst and Fluff (and nearly always with a HEA!)

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

I’m proud of all my stories for different reasons, mainly technical milestones I was able to achieve with the writing or the emotional attachments I had to them at the time that I wrote them.

If I had to choose one (or two because I gotta cheat here haha!), I’d go with either Unto Their Own (SSHG) because the subject matter was so dark and took me to places mentally that were very tough for me to navigate (the fact that I finished that fic is an achievement for me because it could have very well been abandoned at various points in the story); or Unquestionable Love (SSHG), both the original and the series as a whole, because that story has my heart entirely invested in it. That precious family means everything to me and the story, from beginning to present, is my headcanon for the SSHG pairing. I really can’t see them any other way, though I’ve written other stories where their lives turn out quite differently.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Sticking with Unquestionable Love here, the original story came together mostly as expected, though there were a couple darker turns the fic was supposed to take that I didn’t have the heart--or the stamina, I suppose--to end up developing.

One of my dear OCs/one of the daughters was supposed to die at one point in the story and I realised that doing so would have ultimately changed Severus’s fate, as well as the entire course of the storyline. (There is just no way that UL!Severus would survive the death of one of his children, so I guess I’m no JK Rowling or any other esteemed writer who can just ruthlessly kill off their characters haha!) I’ve learned through writing this series that I can tackle subject matters that are very emotionally tough for me and that’s a good feeling.

I’ve also learned that I have something to say, even if it’s not much heard or well-liked, and that that still makes my storytelling worthy of being out there in the fandomverse; or, at least, I try to remind myself that it’s okay to exist.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

It’s intensely personal in some respects and those aspects are difficult for me to discuss. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to talk about them in depth, but I will say a couple scenes in the latter half of Unquestionable Love were incredibly trying to write due to personal experience. I pushed through those moments, though, and I think that, because of that therapeutic exercise, I’m able to tackle other tough subjects in my stories more easily.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I admire various writers, mainly for the love of the language that’s reflected in their writing styles. Anne Rice immediately comes to mind. If I had an ounce of her talent, I’d write with so much confidence lol. I don’t think writers like her necessarily affect my writing style, but they’re certainly people I aspire to write more like.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Only more recently. I haven’t really allowed any of them to read my work, as so much of it is deeply personal, but just being upfront with my closest friends and family has been a nice development.

How true for you is the notion of “writing for yourself”?

I think this is something, as a fic writer, that’s essential. However, I’m also of the mindset that fandom is about community, and fanfic writers want to engage with their audiences. We want to feel less alone in these wacky and often times complicated scenarios we put our characters through, and we want people to respond to them...hopefully, with a positive reaction.

That’s what it’s all about--interaction--and it can be rather heartbreaking, as a writer, when you don’t receive engagement because maybe your headcanons or takes on characters aren’t popular or are considered outside of the ‘norm’.

For me, I find it too crippling anymore to continue sharing my stories with the fandoms I love when they’re met with silence or hate. There’s nothing more soul crushing than just being dismissed or disliked or not accepted...and that’s why I’ve chosen to post my stories privately (for now, at least).

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

It’s pretty essential to me to be able to engage with readers. I absolutely love it and I wish it happened more often haha. I used to run polls and interact with readers on my fanfiction.net and AO3 accounts (both now inactive) and through my still active Tumblr account (http://crmediagal.tumblr.com/ ). I now have my own website - www.crmediagal.com - where I can fully control the flames and negativity.

It may be temporary but, so far, it’s working out pretty well. It’s made my readership a lot smaller but, at least, I know the people who are there genuinely want to read more of my work and won’t leave me hate comments. That’s so comforting and encouraging.

What would you most like your readers to take away with them when they've finished your stories?

A powerful message of some kind...remembrance...perhaps, suggest one or two of them to other readers and shippers out there.

That’s the only way our stories survive, really.

What is the best advice you’ve received about writing?

That you need to protect your “voice”, no matter how unpopular it may be, and that there is no one else who writes like you and that you should take pride in that.

I try to remind myself of these important pointers when I’m feeling particularly down about my storytelling abilities.

What do you do when you hit writer’s block?

Watch my favourite films or television shows to help re-spark my creativity. I come back to the writing when it ‘speaks’ to me. I no longer press myself to push out writing because, more often than not, the result is going to get tossed and reworked anyhow.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yes, certain experiences and people I’ve encountered in my life have definitely wound up in some of my stories.

Many of my OCs in different stories are examples of that.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I’m working on a new SSHG story that’s based off of a fun prompt from a dear, long-time reader.

It will start posting at my website - www.crmediagal.com - in the coming weeks/months, so if anyone would like access to it, you can contact me there.

Here’s a short excerpt:

Cradling his head in his hand, Severus stomped to his front door and opened it a crack, jostling the handle loud enough that it caught three people’s attention, the woman firstly before the others.

“What’s the bloody idea?” he snarled, shouting above them.

Each individual—two wizards and one witch—went mute and turned to stare from the neighbouring sidewalk.

“I’ll have you know that this is a quiet street! And I was sleeping!” When the guests next door to him, who were just towing the property line and about to get themselves knocked out, offered no response, he prodded, grinding his teeth together,

“Are you daft, you fools? Do you not comprehend? HEY!”

The two gentlemen, who appeared to be fresh out of Hogwarts—or maybe they hadn’t gotten that far in their magical studies, judging by the stupidity on their expressions—startled and nodded in unison.

“Yes, sir!”

“Oh, my...” the witch, in turn, murmured, seemingly more to herself than anyone else.

Severus identified her vacant, open-mouthed expression at once: she recognised him. As of yet, he had little recollection as to who she might be and didn’t give a damn. He kicked his door open the rest of the way with his boot, jostling the three near trespassers backward a few more paces, and stalked down his steps and onto his sidewalk.

That was when he finally understood the reason behind all of the commotion: one of the branches to the old oak tree that shielded his stoop, and had been there since the earliest days he could recall of his childhood, had crashed onto the pavement, cracking the sidewalk in half.

A part of his iron fence, too, had crumbled under the weight of the broken branch, and there was an assortment of boxes, some severely banged up, scattered across his property.

“What the...? That’s my tree you idiots hit! And my bleedin’ fence...!”

“I - I’m sorry, sir,” stammered the witch with wildly curly hair and worrisome brown eyes, hastily stepping forward to intervene.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how this happened—”Severus turned his glare on her.

“And who are you?” The seemingly thirty-something woman blushed to her roots, which he couldn’t account for, until she spoke in a faint, insecure whisper,

“Um, Hermione, sir... Hermione Weasley. Oh, gosh, I mean, I - I was Hermione Weasley until...” She cleared her throat and attempted to reintroduce herself, flushing in such a manner that it flaunted dainty-looking freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose. Had she always had those? Severus couldn’t remember.

“Oh, bother! It’s Hermione Granger, Professor. Surely, you...you remember me?”Severus went as rigid as a column.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake...” he blurted aloud before he could stop himself. Hermione blinked, taken aback.

“I’m sorry?”Severus’s shock morphed into a tight-fitting sneer.

“I thought I was done with the lot of you.”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Try not to get too discouraged by lack of reviews or not making the recommendations lists. Keep persevering and know that someone out there, even if it’s just one reader, will love what you have to share with the world.

Thanks for spending some time with us today CRMediaGal, we’ve enjoyed getting to know you.

#fanfiction #fanfic #pro snape #snamione #sevmione #snanger #hermione #hermione granger #snape #severus snape #snape community #writing

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jasperlion · 5 years

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how do you feel about your childhood friends? (Celica plus the ram squad)

How do you feel about…? | Accepting

“My childhood friends, huh?” Alm echoes, ghost of a smile turning into a fully genuine one as his gaze falls to his feet. “There’s so much I could just say… about all of them, really.”

Their laughs, their sorrow, what he loved about them, what drove him mad about them… they were all special to him, a part of his heart, a piece of home that never felt quite right if they were apart.

Maybe it’s why it hurt so much when Celica left. When Kliff left. Different kinds of pains, sure, but the uncertainty that gripped his heart then and grips his heart now is oh so very discomforting.

“They’re… special. Wonderful. They’re like… they’re the closest thing I have to a family aside from Grandfather. In… in different ways, each one, but…”

But, in the end, they all mattered.

“Let’s start with Tobin. He’s…” For a moment, he struggles, as if trying to fish for words. “He’s a treasure, really.”

Fond eyes pull away from the ground, and he turns to gaze to the right, thoughtful, as if trying to recall memories. “He tries so hard to prove himself— and to provide for his family. He… he loves them a lot, you know? His parents, his siblings… he puts so much work in what he does just so he can keep them all afloat. It’s… it’s a big responsibility, and a heavy burden to bear.” His fond smile turns sad, almost forlorn. “I wish he’d let me help. They’re… important to me, too. His family, and… well, and him. He works himself too hard sometimes, and I know he wants to feel like he earned it, but…”

‘Gods, please, let me help you.’

“He’s… he’s a wonderful friend, too. He’s… looked out for me and how I feel, always tried to steer me towards a path where I wouldn’t get hurt. He encouraged me to say goodbye to Grandfather, he… wanted for me to be able to apologize to Celica when we had our fight.” And the thought makes him smile. “He’s such a good friend… when I can’t help him, it makes me feel bad. I… I even feel bad for not believing him, you know? When he said he couldn’t lift the sword…”

So much of his pain could have been avoided, if he had just…let himself think of the possibility that he had been lied to. If he had… allowed himself to figure out his heritage. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so… so…

“… Tobin’s very important to me.”

Oh. Right. He coughs into his hand and laughs, shaking his head and looking ahead. “Wow… and I have four other friends to go! Well, uh… Gray…”

And, once more, Alm trails off and looks to the side, only for a small chuckle to interrupt him. One that turns into a laugh, lips parting into a genuine smile. “I really looked up to Gray, you know!” He says as his laughter trails. “So world-savvy, so traveled… he knew of a world I could only really dream of, a world I had only heard about from the stories him, Mycen and Celica told me about.” It was a different time. It was… it was almost difficult to remember, what it was like to not have seen the world. How the world used to look like, in his mind’s eye.

“Even after we left, you know, he was always so… confident, you know? Kept me out of trouble, too, whenever I wandered around in a town trying to get supplies for the Deliverance. Made sure no one hoodwinked me and the like.” He wasn’t sure what he would have done without Gray. “He always acted like he knew what he was talking about— I used to think he was full of hot air, but, well… I’ve learned since.”

Sometimes, it’s just how you survive out there, especially as a commoner.

“He’s also looked out for me, just as much as Tobin has. They both… they tried to keep me on the ground, remind me of where we came from, you know? Of what we had been put through when we were kids. Of our limits. Of course, I… later on we found it was…” Once more, Alm trails off, only to shake his head. “It’s… not important. I just appreciate it— all they did for me.”

“… Faye’s next.” he says, after a quiet sort of pause, shaking his head and running his left hand through his hair, ruffling it a little. “She’s… an odd sort, to be sure. Worries a whole lot, you know?”

Maybe, she worried too much. “Sometimes I feel she never quite recovered from what happened back then.” He says, voice soft, and brows knit in concern. “Wary of strangers, wary of everything, it felt like her guard was always up whenever she spoke to anyone who wasn’t us, you know?”

It worried him, really, how much she’d dig her heels at the new, like it was dangerous. Like it’d hurt everyone again.

“She tries to keep everyone safe, in her own way. Does her best to make sure everyone’s alright and accounted for. Sometimes, I think she always makes a headcount when we break for camp to make sure one of us didn’t just run off again. Like we’re sheep, and she’s the sheepdog—” Trailing off, he laughs at the mental image. She’s the one who looked like a sheep most of all, in his opinion!

“Don’t let it fool you, though. That girl’s just about as much a rascal as any, she just has a better poker face for when we get caught.”

Levity helped. Levity was nice.

And then…

“Well… then there’s Kliff.” Gods, Kliff. What was he going to do with that guy?

“If I’m honest… I always thought he’d leave one day, you know?” Alm says, exhaling softly as his gaze turns skyward. “Fly away, to wherever it is that he sought to find.” It wasn’t a secret among anyone, try as Kliff might to pretend he didn’t care either way.

“He left before, you know? To a nearby town, sure, and we knew where he was, unlike Celica, but…” All the same, he had left, in the search of something more… among other things. Kliff didn’t like to talk about home, and Alm respected that.

“Well… when he told me he always wanted to see the world, back when we left Ram… I knew then. Something told me, in my gut, that he wouldn’t stay when this was over.” Kliff would chase his dream and, for a time, Alm wished he could have chased it with him. Travelling around, helping people… it sounded appealing, and it would have definitely helped him eventually find Celica (or so he thought), so he had considered asking Kliff to come with when the war was over.

And then, the war got longer. He fought with Celica. More and more responsibilities landed on his shoulders. “Thought I’d go with him at one point, but as the war went on, I felt myself more like a moored boat, and he..? A loose boat, offshore and far, getting further by the minute.” And that was what it was, in the end. Him? He was tied down, in responsibility and duty and his love and care for Valentia. Kliff? Kliff was off to new pastures, and then off again, a wanderer.

“… I hope he loves it out there.”

And, lastly…

“And then… there’s Celica.” Alm almost breathes her name, saddened eyes uplifted at the thought of his closest friend, owner of his heart.

His eyes slide closed, and he takes a breath, trying to focus exclusively on what he wants to say. All his burdens, his thoughts, his sorrows, and his wishes… they roll off his shoulders, and he feels as tall as he stands.

“She’s so unlike me, you know? And yet… so much of me is made, shaped, by what I learned from her and at her side. We’re like the sun and the moon, sometimes… but that just means we’ll always light the sky.”

… Gods, that was cheesy. Even then, it was just… it was how he felt about it, really.

“But, well, we share some traits too, you know? We’re both stubborn, and we never know when to quit. We want peace, we love the outdoors, and flowers… and we want so much for Valentia to flourish. And we…” Pausing, Alm shakes his head. “And then there’s the stuff where we’re different. She’s a lot more focused than me, a lot more driven. She’s slow to make her choices because she’s always considering things, and here I am, you know? Rushing ahead, doing what I think is best because it’s what first came to mind… I’m trying, though! I don’t want her to feel like she has to spend all her time holding me back from doing something stupid.” A laugh leaves him as his gaze turns once more to the side, as if a mental image has sprung to mind.

“She’s so kind and considerate— but she’s also so distant. Like she’s trying to put something between herself and everything else. I… I understand why, and I never felt her do it with me, but it… it hurts to see her push others to arm’s length. I want to… I want to help her feel like she can let other people in again.” The desire is earnest, and so is his sad little smile, but it widens more and more, as if the thought of her can’t keep him down for long.

“She also doesn’t consider herself a lot, you know? Like she’s gotta be strong for everyone, but ain’t got room for her own wants and needs. I want to make her feel like… like she matters, you know? She’s my friend, she’s so important to me… and to so many other people. I hope I can help her see that, as much as she’s helping me work… around my more impulsive tendencies.” Among other things. He knows he tends to roll with his emotions, and he knows he’s not very good at propriety, so he tries hard to learn what she’s got to teach him.

“I feel like, if we hadn’t met, I would have never learned to… deal with people who closed their heart.” He finally says, closing his eyes. “When she arrived to Ram… she was the most scared little thing… but it also made her so angry, so hurt…”

It’s painful to think about how she used to be, after she had lost everything. Now that he knew, it was even more heartbreaking than it was before.

“If I hadn’t learned people could be like that… and still be kind and wonderful underneath… I don’t think I’d be as good with dealing with people who are hurt as I am now. I think we… both learned a lot as kids, from each other.”

“… And, more than anything, I want to help her keep smiling, no matter how hard it gets.”

#[ this got fuckiNG LONG BONNIE ]#long post #campfire stories #yumispelled #this isn’t where things end for us | postgame verse #and so it goes | ask meme answer

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