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#ok good night with this hopefully i can be more productive later
stuckasmain · 1 year
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Trick or treat- songs meaning and possible over analyzing
Another thing I love about the movie is it’s kick ass soundtrack and that all the songs go along with whatever is happening on screen. For example “get tough” plays while Eddie confronts the bullies during the first revenge act or “Tear down the walls” while he literally tears all the posters off of his walls in a fit of teenage angst. It’s just a fun element that movies just don’t do- mainly because everyone gets popular songs instead of making a score and soundtrack but that’s a whole other conversation for another time.
Now I’ve made it no secret that Sammi lives rent free in my head after watching this movie and I’m making it everyone else’s problem. For a horror movie antagonist, he actually does get quite a lot of character especially with what few lines he actually gets. However, like always , I tend to dig way to deep into what we have to do character study and I think his pivotal song actually gives a LOT about him away.
Shocking Halloween performance-
Ok so hopefully we’re all in agreement that the song fucking rules but besides that… I think the song reveals the things the movie forgot to touch on after introducing them fairly over on. That beating Faust and that he “believes his own hype”
Maybe you'll see
Someone's put a spell on me
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These lyrics repeat multiple times in the song and I think it’s basically a call for help without being a call for help. A clear “I’m not entirely in control of my actions here”, as later in the number when he starts firing lightning in the crowd it’s not started intentionally. It is going to hard on a solo, losing control. Lost in the music ™️ only after does there start to be intent. However Sammi seems much more intent on having a captive audience than a crispy one.
This is where I bring up Faust as it’s literally the first fucking few lines on the movie. Are directly ripped from a poem or production then it’s never once brought up again? And it is not referring to Sammi and Eddie as Ed 100% has free will here. The moment things turn deadly he drops the friendship and fights against him. Sammi on the other hand… oh dies in a random hotel fire and kid has satanic ritual related dreams? Oh yeah. Everything we learn through the TV special and Nuke points to Sammi being a wild child, publicity and fan obsessed rocker. I can see and he likely did Cut a deal with at least something - to be able to play and be popular forever. At the cost of his soul.
Rock and roll
Rockin' on a midnight
Take control
Sammi isn’t personally interested in souls at all. From every other scene the only people he kills are assholes or anyone against him. He’s a revenge kill kinda guy not a bunch of randos at a party guy- ESPECIALLY loyal fans. I think the party scene was probably on the demonic side , using him to fill a quota. As getting out of owing his soul by Eddie bringing him back means something, someone is die to take his place. He wants control. He wants fans- practically a army. He wants the stage! Hocus Pocus so got the captive crowd inspo from this Lmao.
His motivations are to spread his last album so he can’t be destroyed, to get revenge, and to play forever. I’m by no means saying he’s a “good” guy or that he wouldn’t kill if he had a choice… as we see him get several personal kills in/people who are in his way. Just that, there’s something else at play besides him during this scene particularly/he doesn’t kill without reason(flimsy reason but reason).
Final chase-
Firstly After midnight is basically “hee hee hoo hoo I’m gonna get you” but a song. It’s kinda hysterical. As fastway’s music is Sammi’s in universe so imagine efnodehioefhdeioheduhdjoi just singing as he goes after you. I can’t.
Gonna hunt you through the night, yeah
You got it
I want it
Pretty soon he's gonna change his tune now
Something about “he’s gonna come back to my side. I know he’s gonna. He has to.” Man give it up - Eddie’s not.
“Hee hee hoo hoo I’m going to get you and shock you” he’s a massive dork actually.
Conclusion-
I just think it’s much more interesting because he has personal motives and a lust for power but it’s at a pass with him owing his soul and the interest of the higher power he owes it to. How he’s forced to act outside of his own wants. Infinite power and a plan and he’s forced to do work instead of what he wants- which is at conflict with his anti man image etc. Like how he wants an audience, fans, praise etc and Hell wants a replacement for his dodging. I’m hoping this makes sense
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dabihaul666 · 3 years
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shout out to google chrome's folders i dont have to have 70 fuycking tabs open in every window
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itsallyscorner · 3 years
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Bring Me Back
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: Filming “Cherry” had its ups and downs for Tom. When filming finally takes its toll on him, you’re there to instantly bring him back from the world of Cherry.
Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, PTSD, murder. A smidge of smut.
A/n: In honor of the Cherry🍒 trailer dropping, I decided to write this!
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(GIF creds: @atealiers )
Any kind of project was a blessing to Tom. He loved being an actor. He was fond of telling stories through the big screen and got a kick from portraying many different characters. Acting was something he felt passionate about, it was his craft and he was very dedicated when it came to becoming his roles. Cherry was quite different from the other movies he’s been in. It was dark and contained many subjects like drug addiction, PTSD, and crime. The world of Cherry was something Tom was not used to; it was twisted. He hasn’t been exposed to things like drugs or the events that Nico Walker had been through. Which was why he was hesitant to take on the role of Cherry.
When the Russo Brothers approached him with the idea, he was excited. He was getting the opportunity to tell another story and would explore the world of a new character. Though the more he looked into it, he realized that maybe he wasn’t up for the role. Was he really ready to dive into the dark and traumatizing life of Nico Walker? As an actor, he was willing to take the job, it would give him an opportunity to expand his career and would possibly be one of his best work. As Tom, he wasn’t sure if he could handle learning or re-enacting the events that occurred in Cherry. But Tom did like a challenge, which was why he ended up agreeing to become Cherry.
He prepared himself mentally and physically pre- production. For research, he interviewed army veterans and former drug addicts to get an idea of what it was like to be in those positions. To get the look of Cherry, he did a variety of things. For example, going on a diet and losing weight, then gaining said weight again once they had to shoot the army scenes. Another thing he did was shave off the gorgeous brown curls that adorned his head. At first you weren’t too happy with his change in hairstyle, but later on you found yourself running your hands along the short strands of hair, loving the fuzzy feeling it gave your palms.
After the interviews and hearing others’ experience, Tom felt a level of responsibility to tell the story of millions of people around the world. Not only was it telling the story of Nico, but of other army veterans who suffered from PTSD and people who’ve had drug addictions. He was fully on board now and there was no looking back. He was going to push himself to the limit and to places he’s never been before.
Filming was tough. There were scenes he had to do that were so unlike him, that felt wrong, and sometimes he just had to take a step back. They didn’t feel right, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. This was his job, if he wanted this movie to be the best that it can, he was going to commit. Thankfully, he was working with the Russos, who he’s known for a while now. He was familiar with the two and they were patient with him, giving him the time to regain himself before shooting an intense scene. The cast and crew were very understanding as well, creating a safe space for him on set. Having Harry along with him helped as well, the familiarity of his brother kept him grounded and avoided him from falling into the void of Cherry. Though he had all these supportive people around him, there was only one person who could calm him down when things got suffocating on set. The only person he wanted to be in Cleveland with him but wasn’t. You. Since you had your own life and job, you were unable to fly out to Cleveland with him. Instead you stayed at your shared home with Tessa as company. All he needed was you when he felt the affects of Cherry caging in on him. Just the sound of your comforting voice over the phone could clear his head and make him breath again.
He had his bad days on set, where he would have to take a moment and hide in his trailer for a few minutes. During those few minutes he liked to be alone as he waited for you to answer your phone. The line would ring, it’d stop, then the sound of your sweet voice would be the only thing he’d hear. Sometimes you didn’t answer the first time, but nonetheless you answered eventually. It wasn’t the same as having you with him in person, you had your responsibilities, and he understood that. He just wished that one day you’d come to Cleveland. He wanted to be in your arms, stuff his face into your neck, breath in your familiar scent, he just wanted to feel you. You were his home. His safe haven. And it was all he wanted right now.
Glancing at your phone, you wondered why Tom hasn’t texted you yet. Not that you were itching for him to text you, but because around this time he would be blowing up your phone telling you things that happened during filming or how his day was going. You decided that filming probably went into overtime making him busy during his break. You shrug to yourself and continue working on your laptop.
You hear the sound of Tessa’s nails clicking against the floors as she enters the office of your home. You greet her with a smile as she settles herself beside your legs.
“Is it dinner time already, Tess?” You scratch her head as you glance at the time on your screen. It was currently nine at night, a bit late for dinner, but you haven’t noticed.
“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll get us dinner. How does that sound, love?” A somewhat sound of approval emits from Tessa. You get back to work, fingers typing away as you finish off the last of your work.
You finish in four minutes, finally satisfied with your work. You let out a content sigh and turn your laptop off. When you get up you stretch and let your bones crack after being in the same position for hours. Tessa joins you, stretching out her front paws then shaking her body out. You chuckle as you lead the way to the kitchen. Taking the scoop for Tessa’s kibble, you fill her bowl up, causing the dog to look up in curiosity. Once you placed the bowl down, her tail wagged wildly as she stuffed her face into her food.
You decided on going for something simple, ramen noodles. You were too tired too cook anything and ramen noodles were the quickest thing to cook in your pantry. While you waited for the noodles to heat up you checked your phone. You went through your notifications, but there were still no texts from Tom. Though you were concerned, you assumed that they had a long shooting day, making him too busy to text. 
Hi love! I hope you’re doing well in Cleveland. I know you’re probably busy, but hopefully filming isn’t tiring you out too much. Have an amazing day! Don’t forget to drink some water from time to time and eat :) Tess and I miss you and love you so much! Talk soon xxx
You send the text with a smile. He won’t read it till he was free or done with filming, but you knew he’d see the message while you were asleep.
The microwave beeps, letting you know that your food was done. You end your night catching up on episodes of New Girl and eating soup. When you were done you did your nightly routine and settled in bed. You turn the lights off and snuggled under the warm sheets.
“Night Tessa.” You whisper to her. A huff comes out of her as she makes herself comfortable on the foot of your bed. When the both of you were settled, you slowly drifted off to sleep.
Buzz
Buzz
The harsh vibrations of your phone shook you awake. Desperate for sleep, you blindly grab your phone and turn it off. Silence fills the room again as you turn around to stuff your face into Tom’s pillow. You were slowly drifting back to sleep when your phone began to vibrate again. With a groan you stretch back and snatch for phone off the night stand. You don’t bother looking at the caller id.
“Hello?” Your voice rasps out.
“Thank God you answered.” The person on the other line said. “I know you’re busy, but how soon can you visit Cleveland?” The deep voice was belonged to Harry.
“Uh—I’m not too sure, I’ll need to check in with my boss.” You reply. When you start feeling more awake you become curious as to why Harry can be calling you. “Why? Is everything ok? How’s Tom? I haven’t heard from him all day.”
The younger Holland sighs. He takes a moment to answer your questions making you suffer in silence, wondering what could have happened to your boyfriend. “Um, they’ve been shooting some intense scenes lately. Tom’s been trying his best but everyone’s noticed that he’s been a bit different.”
You sit up in bed feeling more awake. “What do you mean by different, Haz?”
“Well he’s snapped at the Russos quite a few times. There was this one scene, that they shot multiple times, and Tom would just break down after every one. (Y/n), I’m concerned for my brother, I don’t know what else to do. He’s locked himself in his room after every shoot. A—and I don’t know. I’ve tried to tell him that he can talk to me but he wouldn’t.” Harry explained, his voice croaked. You heart felt heavy for him. Harry was always there for his older brother, so to see him feel so helpless made you feel sorry.
“Haz, calm down, you know how your brother can get. How long has this been happening?”
Harry sniffed over the phone, “About a few weeks now. It’s only started becoming worse last week and now.”
The concern you felt for Tom grew. From what he’s been texting you, filming had been going great. He appeared happy on your FaceTime calls and sounded like his usual self. But maybe he actually wasn’t.
“Harry everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” You assure him. “I’ll call my boss first thing in the morning and when I get the ‘ok’ to leave I’ll get the first flight out to Cleveland. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds good. Can you tell me if you can make it? I’ll have someone come with me to pick you up at the airport.” His voice is quiet, almost muffled.
“Yeah I will, don’t worry.”
“Ok, thank you (y/n).” A small smile forms on your lips. You rub the sleep out your eyes as you glance at your closet. “Alright Haz, I’m gonna go now. But if there’s anything else, just text me or call.”
“I know, stay safe (y/n).” You bid him goodbye and place your phone on the empty space beside your side of the bed. Tom’s side of the bed. You bite your lip in thought as you worry about your boyfriend. You knew he was doing almost everything he can to make sure the movie came out perfect. If that meant shredding himself emotionally and physically, he was going to do it. Tom was dedicated to his work, but he’s never done anything close to Cherry, making you worried about the thoughts that could possibly be going through your lover’s head.
Tessa, who’s now woken up, waddles closer to you, sensing your uneasiness. You appreciate the dog’s gesture and pull her into your side, resting your chin on her head. You were basically sleepless the whole night. Although you haven’t emailed your boss yet, you already had a suitcase packed of your clothes. Your passport and other important belongings were already in a bag, ready to leave London.
The morning had been hectic. You’ve managed to get two hours of sleep, waking up at six in the morning. Still in bed, you sent your boss an email about a family emergency and how you needed to be out of the country for at least a week. As if the gods above knew of your situation, your boss willingly let you go, no questions asked and gave you well wishes. With that out the way, you scowered the Internet for flights to Cleveland. Luck was on your side that morning because you’ve booked a flight that took off in the afternoon. With your bags packed, you drove to Nikki and Dom’s to drop off Tessa.
Now all checked in, you were at Heathrow Airport waiting to be called for your flight. You were sat at your gate, with an iced coffee and a croissant from Starbucks, texting Harry. The two of you were discussing the time you’d arrive and how he’d pick you up. When you were both in agreement, you two decided to catch up. He had been in Tom’s trailer eating his breakfast. An hour passes and you were being called to board the plane.
You settle in your seat, but your leg bounced in anticipation. After the things Harry told you, you just wanted to have your boyfriend in your arms. You knew everything was probably getting to his head, all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him that he was going to be ok. As the plane began to take off, your lack of sleep caught up on you. Throughout the whole flight, you slept soundly, the worries of Tom subsiding for the time being.
~🛬~
The plane lands in Cleveland safely. It was night when you arrived. With your bags, you looked around the airport for a familiar curly haired boy. Harry waves wildly at you before running and pulling you into a tight hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around the slender boy.
“How’s your day been, Haz?” You ruffle his hair as he rolls your suitcase to the parking lot. He shrugs, “The usual. Was on set with Tom, ran around and got things for him, nothing much happened honestly. But you’re here now, so this is the highlight of my night.”
The two of you approach a black car with a driver inside, Harry motions for him to unlock the trunk. He lifts your case in before the two of you get into the backseat.
“How was your flight?” Harry asks you. The car began to move, exiting the airport and entering the highway.
“I slept through all of it, I don’t remember a thing about the flight besides getting on and off it.” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the headrest.
Harry nudges your shoulder, “Thanks for coming out with such short notice.” You wave him off. “It’s no worries, anything for my boys.”
The car is quiet, the only sounds that could be heard is the car’s wheels against the pavement. You turn to Harry, “How was he today?”
“He was pretty good in the morning.” Harry started. “Then filming started and he would grow frustrated after a few scenes. His temper’s been short. He snapped at me during lunch, which is normal, but I just asked him if he wanted some water. He broke down after a certain scene today, I tried talking to him but he still wouldn’t open up about it.” Tom wasn’t too open about his feelings sometimes. He struggled to voice them at times making all his frustrations and feelings bottled up in his head.
Half an hour later and you guys arrive at Tom’s rented home in Atlanta. As soon as you opened the door, you felt the heavy atmosphere. It was somber and tense, the chilliness of the weather also felt inside the house. Harry gestures up the stairs, “Don’t worry, go see him. His room is the first door on the left.”
You quietly thank him and climb up the stairs. You find his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. You hear some shuffling behind the door, “Harry I’m fine! Leave me alone!” His voice was deep, a bit scratchy. You frown at the door.
“Tom?” The room falls quiet. Suddenly you hear fumbling and the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door. The door opens and you finally see him. He was dressed in a large shirt with sweatpants. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, eyes glassy, and chapped lips.
“(Y/n)? You’re here?” He asks you in disbelief. A tight lipped grin forms on your lips.
“Yeah, Har—“ You were going to explain how you got there but he immediately threw himself at you. His arms wrap tightly around your figure, his head dipped into your neck, pulling your closer into him. One of your arms go around his neck while the other rubs his back soothingly. A whimper bubbles out of him, his shoulders beginning to shake. You managed to shuffle the both of you back into his room, closing the door behind you.
“You’re ok.” You whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. His grip around you never falters. Though he was much taller than you, he seemed so small at the moment. His body drowned in the shirt he wore, making him look thinner. You feel tears soaking into your shirt, making your heart clench in pain. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, holding and whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he was ready to speak.
A few minutes pass until his removes his head from your neck. You frown at his tear stained face, his eyes and cheeks red from quietly sobbing into your shoulder. Your hands cup his face, wiping the trails of tears on his cheeks. Tom leans closer to your touch, his eyes shut while his lips kiss your palm.
“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired from the flight.” He apologizes but you shake your head. You lead him to his bed and sit against the headboard. Tom follows in suit, desperately trying to get closer to you. His arms wrap around your torso, his head rests on your chest, while your legs tangle themselves together.
“I’ve had plenty of sleep on the flight, how are you?” Your lips are against his short hair from holding him so close. You nails scratch softly at his hair, calming him down.
“I don’t know if I could finish it.” He quietly admits. He shakes his head at himself.
“Why’s that, Tom?” Your boyfriend takes a deep breath as he sits up, removing himself from your touch. He sits across from you with legs crossed as he holds his head in his hands.
“I—I, it’s too much. There’s so much fucked up things he’s done. And all the things he’s seen. I just—sometimes I feel like it’s me who’s committed all of those things. When we shoot the scenes in the war and when I had to do drugs and rob banks, I felt like I lost myself—“ He cries interrupting himself to take a breath in. Compared to your fingers that ran gently through his hair, his clawed at his head. His palms rub harshly at his face, turning his skin a bright tint of red. To see Tom in such pain made you sad. You hated seeing him like this.
You gently remove his hands from scratching at his face and hold them in his lap. He stares down at your hands, clinging onto them as if his life depended on it. “I get lost in the character sometimes and I have to pull myself out of it to bring me back. But it keeps on happening over and over again. Then the Russos kept telling me to reshoot the scene more like Cherry, and I lost it and yelled at them.” You feel his tears fall to your your hands, making tears well up in your own eyes. You shuffle closer to him and kiss his forehead before pulling him into you. You stay quiet, letting him get whatever he wanted to get out.
Tom’s face is against your shoulder again. He sniffs before continuing, “It’s like everyday I find something he and I have in common. Then I think that maybe I’m turning into him. I don’t want him to be part of me. (Y/n), I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to do the things he’s done.” He sobs into your shoulder. Your heart breaks at how broken he sounded. His shoulders shook again, his back burning up with tension. A few tears made it’s way down your cheeks as you pulled his face away from you.
“Look at me.” You urged him. His jaw clenched, still looking down at his lap. He shook his head in response. “Tom, please. Look at me.” Your voice cracks. He slowly tilts his head up, your eyes connecting. He didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes, it’s like they’ve lost the light in them. Instead they were dark, like there was no life behind them. There was a mix of sadness, confusion, and even fear in his eyes.
You sadly smiled at him, cupping his face with your hands. “You’re not going to be him. You never will. You’re Tom. You are nothing close to Nico or Cherry. You are the sweetest man I have known in the world, you wouldn’t even hurt a damn fly. You’re not him. I know you aren’t. You wouldn’t do the things he’s ever done even if you were forced to. I know you Tom, I assure you, you’re nothing like him.” Tom hiccups, gripping onto your wrists.
“When this is all over and you’re done filming, we can forget about him. We won’t even mention him.” You assure him, stroking his cheeks.
“What if—,” You cut him off.
“No, there’s no what if’s. You’re going to be fine Tom. You’re surrounded by people who love you and will make you realize that you’re nothing even near him. You are the kindest man ever, you love your family, you care about your fans, and your brothers. You’re busy always taking care of everyone else, I think it’s time you take care of yourself, love.” You tell him. A small smile is on your face but it falters, “You don’t have to go through this alone, Tom.”
Tom takes a shaky breath in. “You’ll be there right?” He asks like a child making sure his mother will be there when he wakes up. “You’ll be there with me to bring me back?”
Your thumb smooths the crinkle between his brows, “I always will. I promise.” He nods and pulls you into him. You climb onto his lap and settle on his legs. He stares up at you, one of his his hands supporting your back, the other pressed against your cheek. “Thank you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry for not texting, everything’s just been so taxing mentally and physically.”
“No, don’t worry I get it.” You turn your face to press a light kiss on his palm. For the first time since you’ve seen him, Tom managed to crack a smile on his lips. He moves some strands of hair away from your face before resting his large hand on the back of your head. “I love you. I love you so much, (y/n).”
“I love you too, Tom.” You whisper against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally crash your lips together. After months being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. The kiss was desperate, like it was the air you both breathed. Tom had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day, whether it be sexually or just missing you. The kiss grew rough, your teeth clashing, tongues poking and gliding against each other.
Tom lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. His hands grab and stroke at your body, trying to pull off your clothes to get close to your skin. He suddenly pulls away from your lips. “I need you. Please, I need you.” He almost begs you. Panting, you nod and push him to lay on his back. “Ok, let me take care of you, Tommy.”
He yanks his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You do the same, leaning down to meet his lips again. You kiss your way along his jaw and down to his neck. When you find that certain spot, he lets out a throaty groan, head falling back against the pillows. You run your nails along his chiseled abs and slightly roll your hips against his growing length. Tom grunts, hands instantly connecting to your ass and gripping onto your cheeks. He helps you roll your hips more, deeper with more friction against you two.
“Mm, Tom. I missed you.” You moan against his neck. You bite down and soothe the spot with your tongue after.
Tom looks down at you, lifting his hips to meet your clothes pussy. “Fucking miss you so much. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming of being buried in you again.” You kiss your way down his chest, but Tom stops you. His hands grab onto your leggings and slide them off.
“N-no foreplay. I need to feel you.” He stutters out, mouth agape. You nod in agreement and take his sweatpants off along with his boxers. You spit in your hand, running your hand along his dick to give it some wetness. Tom helps you lift yourself over him and guides your hips down his erected cock. You let out a combination of a sigh and moan as your walls envelop and stretch around him. Tom slightly sits up against the headboard, your tightness wrapping around him. He lets out a cry of relief, your walls around him feeding his cravings. You use his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself up but Tom stops you.
“What’s wrong?” You eye him cautiously. Tom shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I just—can we stay like this for a while? I just want to feel you, please?”
“Yeah, we can do that.” You send him a reassuring smile as you settle back down on him. His hands make themselves comfortable around your waist. You maneuver your arms under his and wrap them around his back. Tom smiles at you, rubbing your back and guiding you into his chest. Before you can nuzzle your face into his neck, he presses a kiss to your temple and lets his fingers get tangled in your hair.
With his eyes closed in bliss, he whispers, “Thank you for bringing me back. I love you.”
You kiss his collarbone basking in the feeling him being so close to you. “I’ll always be here. I love you too.”
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ryosmne · 3 years
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You're gonna fry your brain.
Hello everyone, since it's finals season and we're all probably really dead inside, I decided to self indulge in some tattoo artist! Sukuna writing, so here's this brainrot that won't let me focus on studying. You can read more of this au in the au masterlist.
I've been trying so hard to finish up a bartender! Dabi fic I have in the works for too long, hopefully I can get around to it too. After finals are done I'll be writing a lot more that's for sure.
Tattoo artist! Sukuna x f!reader
Warnings: language, suggestive tones, that's it.
Finals are by far the worst thing about college, y/n knows that the hard way. She's been stressing herself out for the past few days, maybe weeks, going over the same material again and again. She'd constantly argue that she really needs to pass with an high grade that's why she's so obsessive over it.
Sukuna had tried multiple times to help her ease her nerves, he's been there, although he was the type who never really stuck his nose in a book for too long, regardless, his best girl needed a break, no matter how hard she denied it.
Y/n had declined his invitations of going out, she dropped by the shop a few times, bringing Sukuna some food, but he could tell she was slowly burning herself up.
Today was no different, y/n had been writing everything down all day to help memorize it better. So many hours has passed since she started her study session but she didn't even notice that her clock read 8 pm already.
Sukuna did notice, y/n had been barely responding back to his texts and it was time he took matters into his own hands.
The earpiercing doorbell pulled y/n out of her trance like state, she quickly got up from her desk to go and get rid of whoever just rung it.
"Dollface, I was beginning to think you had died in there."
There was Sukuna, leaning in her doorframe, looking as good as he always did, in a plan white t shirt and a gray pair of sweatpants, holding a few bags and a huge basket.
"not quite, what's all this?"
Y/n motioned to the bags he had.
"Nothing much, just some things I picked up for you, will you let me in? this basket is fucking heavy."
No, the basket wasn't that heavy, Sukuna could carry it just fine, he just wanted to make sure that y/n didn't have a chance to deny him.
Y/n stepped aside to let Sukuna in, and he went straight to her kitchen, dropping his bags on the table.
"Thanks for dropping by babe, but I really need to finish the last three chapters I have left."
"Y/n, you're going to fry your brain at this rate, no more studying for today."
"But-"
"No buts, you won't read another sentence today. We're destressing together."
Turns out, Sukuna had brought over many different things. He's not the type of guy to shy away from anything, so the first thing he did was to grab y/n and drag her into her bathroom.
Sukuna had taken mental notes the first time he looked through y/n's skincare products, he was able to determine her skin type and he went a bit crazy, buying her different things to try out.
"You are insane, that's drunk elephant, why did you get this many things?"
"Because you have the really terrible cheap stuff, now shut up you're going to eat the soap if you keep talking with cleanser all over your face."
Now, y/n's skincare wasn't bad, Sukuna had expensive taste and he's a bit of a brand snob
Sukuna gently poked her cheek with a smile as y/n's face distorted because she had in fact tasted the cleanser and Sukuna could only laugh at her before she flicked some into his mouth too.
"Don't kiss me with a face mask on you brat"
Y/n let out a soft laugh, Sukuna was doing his best to concentrate at the task at hand. Matching y/n's nail polish to his. Y/n had just finished painting his, matte black like he requested but y/n gave him some white polish on his ring finger. Sukuna had argued for a bit, saying it didn't look good and that he didn't like it, but gave in after y/n gave him a puppy face, can you blame him?
"But you look so cute like that."
Y/n complained, knowing that this little comment was going to feed Sukuna's ego more.
"I know doll, but artificial orange doesn't taste as good as it smells."
Y/n once again wasn't wrong, his cocky attitude always creeped in at times, not that she minded.
Time passed fast with watching trash reality shows on y/n's couch, after their very own self care day, Sukuna made sure to fix something they could both eat. Now they were engolved in each others arms, y/n's sleepy eyes staring up at him.
"How are you feeling, doll?"
Sukuna's hand found her hair, gently resting on top of her head.
"Much better, you're the best you know that?"
"I've heard it once or twice, I'll give you reasons to say it more often"
He gave her a gentle smile, leaning closer to steal a kiss, a little more intimate than the ones they shared earlier.
" 'Kuna, I'm sorry I was so stressed and distant this week, I probably worried you-"
"Don't be stupid, it's ok, I just want you to know I'm here for you, and it's just finals. You're a smart cookie, I'm sure you'll do great."
Y/n found his words reassuring and nuzzled closer to him, letting her lungs burn with his scent that never got less intoxicating.
"Thank you 'kuna, what would I do without you?"
The last few words came out slurred, but Sukuna understood everything, y/n's breathing got steadier against him.
"I don't know doll I'm just glad to have you here, I promised to take good care of you."
And just like that, y/n was fast asleep next to him, he didn't mind her uncomfortable couch one bit all he cared about was how at peace she looked. Maybe he would move her to her bed later, he couldn't bring himself to do it now.
The next morning, y/n found herself on her bed, Sukuna had almost woken her up getting ready before he left to go to work, but he managed to put her right back to sleep with a kiss on the forehead and a light "don't wake up yet doll".
Y/n made her way to the kitchen, Sukuna usually left a little letter for her on the nightstand by the bed, he must've been in a rush today.
Not quite the case.
Sukuna not only made her, her favourite breakfast, he also left post it notes in some places.
You suck at food shopping, thank me later.
Was written on her fridge.
So that's what all the bags were for, y/n didn't find out last night because of how tired she was, and how much fun she had being around sukuna.
He had filled up her fridge with everything she ever needed to make a meal for herself or have a snack. Let's be honest Sukuna just wanted to cook for her again.
Another post it was found in her bathroom cabinet.
You're probably gonna get mad at me for this but I'm not sorry, you deserve it.
The poor cabinet was stuffed to the brim with brand name skincare that made anyone's wallet scream in anguish and a lot of bathbombs. Upon closer look y/n almost cried at how attentive Sukuna was, he took extra care to look out for her skins needs.
Y/n found the last post it on her desk while she did her revision.
Don't overwork yourself doll, you've got me for that.
Y/n brought Sukuna cupcakes from seven different bakeries to try that day.
Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Sukuna left early again?"
Megumi asked, the day had been going pretty slow he wasn't surprised his friend dipped.
"Yeah, he left this behind though."
Geto held up a very nice looking white shop bag, a slight glimmer in his eye let the rest of his friends know he planned something.
"So? What's in it anyways?"
Gojo was resting his chin on his hand, blank expression on his face, completely unamused by Geto's discovery.
"Give me that"
Nanami swiftly snatched the bag, curious to see what was inside of it. He reached in and retrieved several wrapped round objects.
"Bathbombs?"
He questioned puzzled, but then his lips tugged upward.
Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and Geto, each got two bathbombs, and even though they would outright say it, they were pretty damn exited to drop them in their bathtubs. That's what Sukuna gets for avoiding clean up.
Sukuna entered the shop barely greeting anyone and begun looking around. Fuck he was looking for something, everyone tried to keep their composure.
"Have you seen a white bag?"
He finally looked at the group of men before him.
"like a backpack? No "
Megumi spoke, Sukuna begun thinking he was remembering everything wrong, that's untill he saw something sticking out of Geto's pocket. That's for sure a bathbomb he bought for y/n
"You motherfuckers, how low can you stoop to steal my girls bathbombs?"
Hey it's me again, though I'd add that here, if you have specific skin demands I tried to cover that in here so everyone can enjoy it, I have lots of allergies and skin concerns so I'm kinda sensitive to that stuff. Hope you had fun reading, remember to take it easy, untill next time :>
Tag list: (comment or message me and I’ll gladly add you)
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@not-another-ackerman
@jjk-is-my-shit @ilovemarvel99
@thegaymadafakkasworld @readinghassavedmylife @ruler-of-the-skies
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owaowabetch · 3 years
Text
Minecraft pt. 1 (Sykkuno x F!Reader)
Oneshot (maybe part of a series??? idk we’ll see): Even though you’ve never played minecraft, you still manage to build a great house with your basement buddy. Friendship with a hint of romance. This is season 1 of the OTV ftb server (Pre-relationship; part of Uh-oh & Impasta)
“Ok guys, so today’s stream is going to be a lil different” You chat to your stream “We are going to be playing Minecraft with the OTV gang and other people we’ve played among us with!” Waiting for Minecraft to load on your pc, you continued on chatting “We will be playing GTA later on in the stream, we have a few jobs lined up with some people, so hopefully we get a lot of money from that” 
You minimized your face cam into a corner as your character appeared in a random spawn area near quite a few people. You saw multiple boxy players run around and hitting each other. So, you walked around picking up flowers  and with the help of some members of your chat, you managed to collect wood.
“OH! HEY Y/N!!” A loud crunchy voice yelled terribly into your ear causing you to cringe visible and immediately start hitting them with the wood in your hand.
“Your mic is dank man” You continue hitting them, which turned out to be Leslie and she starts to hit you back with a laugh. You guess her flowered hand overpowered your wood and hungry state, because you died and respawned to where you first showed up.
“Ah fuck” You complained before another boxy figure showed up infront of you and you recognized the blue shirt and green striped scarf, so you cheered. “Sykkuno!”
“Hey, Y/N!” His character moved his head up and down “What happened? How did you die?”
“Leslie’s mike was..crunchy?? And then she killed me!” You jump around
Sykkuno laughs “What? I’m surprised mobs havent got you. I’ve been killed many times by them” and in comedic fashion poki ran by screaming for help as she was being chased by a giant spider. You both watched as she would turn and hit it before continuing on her run.
It killed her. She puffed into smoke and in her place was a grave.
You both laugh as Sykkuno gasps out her name and you both run to her grave.
“Is this part of the mod? Or is it part of minecraft” You ask crouching on her grave and read her name.
He jumped around you with an answer “ Uh no it’s a mod that abe put in. If you break it the stuff you died with will spawn out”
“Oh” Continuing the crouch and uncrouch “What now?”
“Well i was going to find some of my graves, but I’m gunna find wood to make tools and find food” He answered and with that you decided to follow him
You collect the fruit from the near by trees and kill some of the animals with an axe that Sykkuno made you. Along the way you collected flowers and wood.
“We should find a house before it gets dark and more mobs come and kill us” Sykkuno walks to you then throws a stack of wood on the floor “Or maybe you build us a house. I’m not good at that type of thing”
You stare into your cam and do the debbie ryan “Oh my god, living together?” You pick up the stack of wood and start building a small house “Is that good?”
“Ya, that’s great! I’ll put the door down and I got us some beds, so we now have a spawn point. So when we die we just end up here” He explains doing so
Nodding along to what he said, you start putting the flowers you collected around the house before entering the house. He put the beds down next to each other. Making sure to mute yourself, you do the finger point and with a ‘tch’ sound you smile “ Oh my God Chat! Our beds are next to each other !?! How crazy. Heehee”  
The house was lit up with torches. “Click on the bed” He tells you and you do so. Your characters laid there side by side and your chat was hearing you make embarrassing noises. “Chat better not be telling him how embarrassing I’m being please. This is a desparate plea for you guys not to tell him!! Like Im joking guys please” With a laugh, your character gets off the bed and you walk out.
“Oh!” In Sykkuno’s hand was a flower “I noticed you picking up flowers and I know that [Flower/Name] is your favorite, so i picked some up for you”
You can’t stop the smile that appears on your face nor the flush on your cheeks “You are so fucking cute”
“Wha-?” You interrupt him “This is so sweet, honestly Sy.”
He throws them on the ground “It’s no problem. Just saw them and remembered how much you liked them “ and you pick them up, putting them at the entrance of the door “I love it!!! Thank You Sykkuno!!”
He hums and jumps around. You check chat, when a donation comes in telling you to check it, and read that he was purposefully was looking for the flowers because he knows how much you would’ve loved them. You don’t believe them at first, telling them that while he is nice, going around looking for a flower doesn’t seem like a productive thing to do. So, someone from your chat sent a clip of him telling his viewers that he was looking for your favorite flower to give to you. His excuse was that this as your first time playing minecraft, so he wanted you to enjoy it and thought it would be a great present until he can find diamonds.
“Guys! No!! That is so sweet!” You cry out blushing even further
“Hey guys!” A voice called out. A voice you immediately recognized to be Liliy’s “Come look at my house!” Looking up you see her stood further up from the both of you. She started making her way down and gasped “Are those [F/N]!?! Where did you find these! The look so pretty!”
“Yea” You jumping once more “Aren’t they cool?”
“YES! Can I have one?” She asked standing next to them “Is this your house? I love the flowers around them”
“I guess this is where we live now” You respond
“Both?” Lily questioned “You and Sykkuno are living together!?!”
“Yea! He actually gave me the [F/N]s, so you can’t..have them..” You respond to her awkwardly
Lily turns to Sykkuno and hits his character “You fucking simp”
He gasps “Lily” but she ignores him “I’ll take a different flower as a housewarming gift. Now follow me!”
“Y/N, why don’t you go see it while I gather up more materials” Sykkuno told you
You follow her up the small mountain? And there laid her pink house and you gasped “There is pink wood!?!”
“Yea, you just need pink dye. I have a bunch left if you want some” She offered you
“I don’t know if Sykkuno would want to live in a pink house” You enter her house and notice chests and peak into them
“He’d want what you want so just go for it.” She places the flower she took from your house next to hers. “Those chests belong to other people, but here’s mine.” She hits the chest in her house “I think i have like 20 of the pink wood left, so you can just take the rest”
You took the stack from her chest “Awesome! Your house is nice! It’s big too! I’d have to remake our house into something bigger”
“Yea, it’s kinda ugly since it isn’t pink” She tells you causing you to laugh
“It was a last minute thing to hid in during the night” Holding the pink wood in your hand “I’ll probably look up some building tips and stuff later to make a cool place, but thanks Lily!”
You hung out in her house talking with people as they came and went as Lily went to find more flowers to surround her house in. Though someone interesting came in, wearing the generic steve skin with a slightly creepy face.
“Hey Miyoung!” Lily called from out her house
“Hi Lily” She responded “I’m just letting you know I’m putting a death trap in your home. Please don’t tell the victims”
You snorted in amusement “Can I help with that?”
She moves towards you in her crouched state, so you respond in kind. You both just stared at each other in your crouched position circling each other “Okay, so I have a bucket of oil, so I want to dig a hole in the ground and push people into it”
Nodding your head “Clean, my chat was telling me that there is a trapped door, so why not put one on the ground above it and just have people walk in it?”
“We should also put a sign down there, so as they’re slowly sinking to their death, there’ll be a sign that mocks them” Nodding her characters head “I have some signs already, I’ll make the trapped door”
Taking a shovel from your hotbar, you dig a hole 6 blocks down, digging the other side as you make your way down. You then walk to the other side and start to make your way up.
“You should leave an open space for the sign, maybe 2 blocks open?” Miyoung tells you as she eyes you from above. You jump out of the hole you created and shovel 2 dirt blocks. She places a sign down and covers it up with a wood plank that matches the floor of Lily’s house “Wait I need to put the oil down”
So, she breaks the floor once more and jumps in to put the oil in before making her way back up. “I just put RIP on the sign, I think it’ll help them realize that they will die, so..”
“Alright clean clean” You jump around and watch as she places a trap door on the floor above it and placing a sign in front of it.
“We should probably look for victims” Miyoung tells you
You make your character swing their arm around towards the chests in Lily’s home “Well people have stuff in here, so maybe we should wait for someone to come in to grab something and lure them”
“Sounds good” She says and as she says this Sykkuno comes barging in.
“Hey y/n!” He cheers “Oh hey Miyoung! Lily told me that she has a bucket in her chest that she’ll let me borrow. So, I’m just trying to find her chest. Don’t mind me” He rifles through them “Can’t seem to find them “
You open the trap door and look at him before he turns to you two “Oh is it in here?” and down he goes. “Oh!? IS THIS A TRAP”
You start giggling as he starts to panic laugh “y/n? miyoung? Help!”
You both just crouch above him and stare as he slowly sinks “Guys, any help? please? y/n?”
Miyoung just closes the trap door and walks away and in the little chat says that Sykkuno died in due to [Sticky Dipping], so you type in an apology as you make your way back towards the house. You meet him and apologize to him once again.
“It’s no problem. It was actually kind of funny, but check in the chest I have in the house. I got some more stuff for you for the house” He tells you  “I’m gunna go back to get my stuff and the bucket, so i’ll catch you later!”
“Alright, see ya Sy!” You cheer back to him and make your way into the house.”Alright chat, let’s see what he gave us! I’m not reading what you guys, say so no spoilers~”
You open the wooden box and inside were more pink wood planks, glass, stairs, torches, other house materials to make building easier, and some more of your favorite flowers.
You feel your chest tighten as the butterflies appear in your stomach. You smile largely and giddy, opening and closing your mouth trying to gather the words to express how you felt, you were pleasantly surprised by the things he left you.
You wanted to squeal at how nice he is. It is hard to come across a genuinely nice guy that wanted nothing but friendship with you. So, it was easy to fall for Sykkuno; but it was hard to admit to yourself your growing feelings for him, because love is scary and being in love with your friend is even scarier. Once those feelings come out, you can’t take them back and things just become different. So, it is safe to say that you’ll be keeping them to yourself.
“By the way” Sykkuno starts causing you to jump in real life, as you were sat pondering to yourself “The server is making a town square a few blocks away, so why don’t we move the house there?”
You start collecting the items in your inventory “Yea! Are you going to need help carrying the rest of the stuff there?”
He starts breaking the items in your old home “If you have the room for some that’ll be great! yea!”
Once you both gathered the things you wanted to take, you guys bound towards where the Town Square was being made.
“Oh! By the way, can I request you build a basement for me in our house?” Sykkuno asks
The thought of him referring to the house as ‘ours’ made you smile “Yea, but can I ask why you want one?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t build anything that’ll blow up our house” Sykkuno dodges the question
‘Our’ house. Maybe one day that can be a real life possibility. You couldn’t contain the smile growing on your face even further. Maybe one day you’ll have the courage to tell him how you feel.
As you start building near Leslie’s house, a thought suddenly pops into your head ‘Sykkuno there is a girl into you’
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wandsandwheezes · 3 years
Text
Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH5
one // two // three // four
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, cheating, mentions of the war, desc. of torture, pain, drinking, aftercare.
Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.
A/N // flashbacks in italics - Hopefully this chapter gives an insight into why George is so protective over his girl, but also why Y/N is the way she is around him. 
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There were two times you'd reserved yourself the ability to let loose and have a break, The first was after a big Game, where being absolutely hungover wasn't a problem the next day, or after a big product launch. Fred and George were two men who liked to party hard. Fred loved getting smashed among friends, participating in drinking games and nearly causing a full on riot - a drink to get drunk kind of man. George on the other hand, took a lot to get drunk, he would be waved most of the night and then sober by the time he was home, The one thing however about your boyfriend was that he got handsy and possessive, something that drove you absolutely crazy for him. 
You'd been clubbing in muggle London with George multiple times, using the night as a distraction from the wizarding word, taking a cab home to either his place or yours - more often than not passing out cuddling each other in impossible positions. It was the best rest George got, he was always confused when he woke up to the sunrise or birds chirping, finding relief in him sleeping through the night. 
George's poor sleeping habits were there before the war, however the looming death and the horrible events he suffered seemed to replay in his mind whenever he neared a state of rest. 
// 
The blast in front of him was unlike anything George had seen before with his own two eyes. Through the rubble and dust he saw you hunched over on the ground, coughing up the debris from your lungs. He was silently thanking whatever god that was out there, if there even was one, that he was here in this moment. He knelt down next to you, hand rubbing circles on your back soothingly.
“Baby, it’s ok, I’m here.” When you heard his voice you flung yourself into his arms, not caring about the state of your lungs as you held him. He was safe. 
“Let’s get you to the great hall, you can’t be running around out here like this.” You shook your head, cupping his cheeks with your hands and pressing a firm kiss to his lips, like it could be the last time you’d ever kiss him. You both ignored the metallic taste of blood and dust coating one another as you committed this moment to memory, If people caught you here, in each other’s arms, why would It matter? Secrecy was the last thought on your mind as you pressed your forehead against his. 
“I need to fight, we need to fight, George.” You were standing up, still holding onto him, you were vulnerable like this, you kissed him once more, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “Forever, I promise.” you smiled, pulling him in for another hug. “I love you.” he squeezed you tighter as a response. Before you knew it you were bending down to collect your fallen wand,  running off in opposite directions. 
You were being backed into a corner, slowly but surely. You’d resolved that this was the end. You weren’t sure who you were fighting until they were too close for comfort. Maria Bishop. When her hand touched your arm you were whisked away to another location. Once there you were violently shoved to your knees, winded still by the apparition.
“I always valued the Y/L/N family, you know,” She started, wand pointed at your head, Maria was known by others as ‘The Bishop’ you assumed because she was one of the Dark Lord’s prominent agents, finding and killing muggle-borns and blood-traitors alike, much like the bishop in chess eliminates their enemy. 
“Such a shame you’re not like your mother and father, you would have made a beautiful pureblood wife.” she was laughing as she squatted down in front of you. 
“Where Is Harry Potter?” she asked bitterly. Every inch of your skin was shaking with fear, you had no information, but it’s not like that mattered. “I- I don’t know, none of us have seen him in months.”
She didn’t like that, you didn’t even have time to think or apologise before you heard the word ‘crucio’ fall from her lips with ease. 
The excruciating pain ran through your body, you fell to the ground, writhing as a blood-curdling scream was ripped through your vocal chords. You couldn’t do anything but scream over and over, it felt like your skin was being torn from its muscle and like scraping across all of your bones. She kept demanding, over and over for you to give her information but there was nothing to let out. You couldn’t even picture what Harry looked like, the only thing that ran through your mind was relentless agony. 
You knew you wanted this to be over the minute it started, the pain crept up from your toes to your hips, over your chest and arms until finally it was at your throat. You felt like you were choking, you wanted all of the air to escape your lungs in the hope that the pain would end, but it never did. With every scream she laughed at you, watching as you writhed in pain like it was a comedy, she tried to overpower your shrieks with laughter.  
You suddenly felt all weight lift off of you as the curse faded. Every limb was weak, time was no longer a concept to you, it felt like a lifetime of agony only repressed by a moment of solace, your hand was on your wand and before you could think, you were raising it and muttering the incantation of what you knew you shouldn’t. Her eyes widened, a flash of blinding green light filling her eyes, accompanied by a rushing sound, as if an invisible something was whipping through the air - within an instant she rolled over onto her back, unmistakably dead. The Bishop was down.
//
By 11:30 you were already half gone, If anyone asked, you were most definitely sober, but if the way you were swaying as you stood or your slightly misplaced steps weren’t telling enough, your tipsy giggles sure were. You’d been drinking down gigglewater like there was no tomorrow, making sure that you were well and truly off your face drunk. It felt like most, If not all of Diagon alleys’ daytime bustle had moved into the underground club below Olivanders. The walls were a dark, dusky brown, a perfect backdrop for the flashing lights and strobes. Music was pumping through your veins with every step as you pushed through the sea of people with a drink in hand, you found the corridor, taking a moment to breathe as you sipped on the bitter liquid. 
Moments later you found yourself trapped between a pair of strong arms and the thick cushioned wall, you hadn’t even second guessed the man whose lips were on yours. Your hands were in his hair, pulling him in for a desperate, needy kiss. He was humming against you as his thigh found its way between your legs, letting you grind down against it. The man’s tongue was grazing against your lip, begging for entry - you didn’t even think of rejecting it because the touch felt so familiar. For four, maybe five minutes you were standing making out. You had to admit it felt good, of course it felt good, it was George. You pulled away, gasping for air but also getting a minute to look into his eyes, almost immediately you feel a loss of contact, as the body pressed against yours was stripped from by your side, causing a gentle whine to fall from your lips.
It was only when you blinked a few times that the fogginess of your vision truly got to you as you thought you were seeing double. You continued blinking, hoping the two would form to one, but instead you had stumbled backwards, now leaning on the wall for support. 
George had Fred by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from you, his eyes like daggers as he scowled at his brother. “You can’t use her like that when she’s drunk.” Fred scoffs, the back of his hand coming up to wipe away the saliva that coated his lips, the smirk however was undeterred by the action. “You better wipe that fucking smirk off your face, Fred.” 
The older twin was rolling his eyes, attempting to push past George to finish what he started, however, George’s hand pushed against his brother’s chest pinning him to the wall. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, shoving George away from him by both shoulders, “Fred, take one look at her, and tell me you're comfortable doing that to her… Merlin, she can hardly stand, don’t be that guy.” 
George was pleading his brother at this point, Fred sighed as he eyed you, taking in every characteristic of your demeanour - you were half asleep, leaning against the wall. He watched you try to wake yourself up and push your body away from the wall only to come crashing right back against it.
“I don’t know why you’re acting so protective all of a sudden… I’ll take her home.” Fred sighed, his hands rubbing over his face in an attempt to sober himself up. 
“Fred, wait- I’ll do it.” his twin cocked an eyebrow at him, “I’m sober, it’s fine, you can’t apperate her she’ll be throwing up everywhere.” Fred nodded, giving George a pat on the shoulder as he walked away, “Thanks, Georgie.” 
Your boyfriend's once angry eyes were softening as he looked at you, full of sadness as he watched you struggle. All he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms, and protect you, muttering under his breath, as he walked over to you, ‘let’s get you home then, angel.’ 
“Y/N, my love, it’s George, I’m gonna take you home, alright?” George was speaking so softly that you immediately felt at home. You nodded quickly, falling into the familiar pair of arms that were now holding you, giving you the anchor to finally walk again.
George led you out of the club and walked slowly with you as you stumbled step by step all the way down the quiet diagon alley. He got you into a cab as you both stumbled out of the leaky cauldron, the horns and chatter of London beaming around, it truly was a city that never slept. He had his arm wrapped around you protectively as you cuddled into his side, the sound of his beating heart slowly brought your racing thoughts down to earth. The way you were curled up against him reminded him of a moment from the war he’d never forget.
//
Your fingers trembled and shook so much that you could no longer control the grip of your wand. It truly sunk in that what you had done was unforgivable. You’d taken someone’s life. You rationalised with yourself that you had done it for your own good, to protect others, the ones you loved and cared for, but more importantly to protect yourself. You quickly pushed away from the body, crawling backwards until your back hit the wall, it had finally sunk in exactly what you'd done and you couldn't even bear to be with yourself as you buried your head between your knees, as silent sobs choked from your lips. 
George found you like this, he had been searching worriedly for hours. It was pure vulnerability, he saw the body of the Bishop lying on her back, your wand discarded and you huddled into a ball. He didn’t know what to do or how to protect you, he reached out to touch your arm but you recoiled at his touch, pulling your knees tighter to your chest.
“Baby, It’s me.” he murmured softly, his voice cracking as he pushed out a whisper, outstretching his hand for you to take when you were ready. “We need to move you, It’s not safe here.” You took his hand, letting him whisk you away to a safer place, but you knew in your heart there was nowhere safer but his arms. 
//
George carried you up the stairs to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed, kneeling on the floor as he unlaced your boots, pulling each one off gently as his hand massaged your foot. When he looked up at you, you were no longer sat upright, instead having fallen back against the sheets as you began to try and remove your own clothes, doing so in a piss poor way. 
He shook his head, smiling to himself as you grumbled at your own misfortune, his hands gripped your arms, pulling your wrists to his lips, pressing a gentle and loving kiss to the inside of each one. He slowly and cautiously helped you in removing your clothing, making sure to grab an old tee of his to cover you with when you sat naked on his bed. 
He left to go and grab you a glass of water, as well as some painkillers for the morning. Finding you curled up on top of the sheets while shivering from the cold chill of the room. He chuckled once again, popping the items on the bedside table so that he could sit you up. 
"Can we drink some water please, Princess?" you furrowed your brows, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. His large, warm hand was cupping your cheek softly, as he used his other to retrieve the glass of water, "I'll help you, now open up for me, that's a good girl."
His thumb coaxed your lips open, pressing the cold glass against your bottom lip as he gently fed you the clear liquid, you were gulping it down like you were wholeheartedly parched, he smiled at you when you'd finished, placing the glass on the bedside table again. 
"Well done, beautiful, now let's get you under these covers, that ought to stop those shivers, hm?" Your hands wrapped around his neck as he lifted you up off of the bed, you stood, holding onto him as he flipped the duvet corners open, lifting you up so he could lay you down against the mattress. 
He tried to pull your arms from his neck, but you only held on tighter, keeping him pulled close to you as a pout hung on your lips, whining as he tried to pull away from you. "Cuddle me."
He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tucked you in gently, the covers wrapping you up nice and warm. "I'll be joining you soon darling but I can't cuddle you like this, I'll crush you if i lay on top of you now," he laughed, the low hum reverberating in your chest as you smiled at him with a doe eyed expression plastered to your face. 
He stripped his jacked off, changing into some more comfortable clothing so that he could join you in bed. As soon as he sat on the mattress, your head was in his lap, he smiled at the sight, his heart warming as your arms wrapped around his thigh, cuddling into him. 
He felt your shoulders begin to shake, looking down at you he saw the salty tears running down your cheeks as you tried to hold back your sobs. The reality of what happened in the hall of the club was hitting you, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach at the prospect that you had been making out with his twin, all the while believing it was George. "I'm so sorry, Georgie, I don't deserve you, I fucked up and I'm sorry, I just- I thought he was you and I was kissing him back and-" 
George had cut you off by pressing a finger to your lips with a gentle shushing sound, his fingertips massaging your scalp as he played with your hair ."You don't need to apologise for a thing, Princess."
The feeling of his hand as he gently dragged his fingers through your hair was lulling you to sleep, you sighed contently, your heart beating faster as you began to hear the gentle soothing sounds of his humming, a sweet and soothing melody that made you feel like you were in heaven. 
To him you looked like an angel when you slept, his heart resting easy at the sight of you painless, careless and content in the arms and presence of the man she loved so dear. She was like his own little slice of heaven, for him to enjoy on earth, always feeling like the damned luckiest man in the world to wake up to the sight of you. 
You awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs hitting your senses, groaning you reached over and took the two pain relief, washing it down with some water from the night before. You were dragging your feet along the floor as you sought the arms of your boyfriend, you found him in the kitchen plating up some food. You immediately fell to his side, arms wrapping around him as you groaned, the power of your headache hitting you. 
"Eat up, my Love, You'll feel so much better after." George had prepared you a delicious greasy fry up, knowing it was one of your favourite things to wake up to, he pressed a kiss to your cheek as his hand found the small of your back, "Thank you George, smells amazing as always." 
He smiled, taking the two plates to the dining table, where cutlery and orange juice already lay. You felt spoilt by the man you loved as you wolfed down the food. George made the best breakfasts around, aside from Molly, of course, each component cooked with the special ingredient of never-ending love, making it that much more tasty. 
You were the luckiest girl alive, looking into his eyes, he smiled at you, making you melt, even after all these years. George was everything you needed and more, you were sick of hiding him and he was just as sick of hiding you. Your Protector, Your Lover, His angel.
>>>>> Chapter Six
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taleasnewastime · 3 years
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Flatmates | Part 1
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Summary: You need to find a spare room after deciding to move out of your flat that you share with your best friend and her boyfriend. Stumbling upon an advert for a room that seems almost too good to be true, you decide for once to not over think and go for it. But who is the mystery flatmate you are now living with that you hardly see?
Pairing: Hoseok x reader
Genre: Fluff, angst.
Word count: 19.7k
Part 2
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption (though just for fun). 
Authors Note: So, I wrote a thing and it turned out to be very long so I have decided to split it into 2 parts. The second part isn’t currently finished but it is not far off so hopefully won’t take me too much longer. This has taken me a while to write and it’s not perfect by any means, but I like it so whatever. It’s based off the same concept as the book “The Flat Share”. I hope you all enjoy it!
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Flicking through the ads for a spare room seemed like second nature to you now. You felt like an expert on the topic. You could easily create a presentation detailing the common mistakes people made when advertising a room, how you could easily spot if something was too good to be true, and when someone was probably a hidden psychopath, just from what they’d written about their spare room. You could probably draw a map of the city and detail the average prices of a room in each area, how fast some rooms went in some areas compared to others and which areas were best to look at. Having lived in the city for two years you felt like you knew it pretty well, but as soon as you started to search for a room to rent you realised how little you actually knew about it.
When you moved to the city it was with your best friend Lily. You had rented a two bedroom flat together and the first few months were amazing, the whole two years were amazing, but after living in the city for just 3 months Lily found a boyfriend. So after he basically moved in with her, and you effectively becoming a live in third wheel, and even though you were the one to find the flat in the first place, you decided you should move out. You didn’t resent Lily for it, and it was your decision to move, but it still made you sad, the end of a chapter in your life. You would still be in the same city and would still see each other all the time but it felt like a new chapter, one where she was getting serious with a guy and where you were still single and sharing a house with someone. It’s almost as if you hadn’t left university.  
Finding a spare room was easier said than done. You had asked around at work whether anyone was looking for a flatmate but everyone was either in a serious relationship or already tied into a contract with other friends. You’d even been desperate enough to ask friends of friends, putting it out on your Facebook that you were looking for someone to live with hadn’t helped, so you turned to looking for spare rooms online.  
Again, this was easier said than done. But you still looked, every day and night refreshing your search in the hopes of finding the perfect room or roommate, not wanting the perfect room to slip through your fingers. You had even looked around a few places, one that was an actual dump, clothes and dirty plates laying around the flat, one that was nice but a bit small and a 40 minute commute to work and one that was almost perfect if not for the fact the other people living there were doing drugs as soon as you walked through the door.  
You had even wondered whether you should just up your search to find a flat of your own, you were on a good wage, you felt like a young semi-successful business woman, why couldn’t you have your own place? Well due to extortionate rent, that’s why. So after considering getting a flat to yourself for approximately 10 minutes it was back to looking at spare rooms.  
Continuing to scroll down a page listing rooms you reach the point where you had already seen all the rooms past that point. You pause and stretch your back, twisting your neck slightly to ease some tension, and reach to take a sip of your drink. You had decided to come to a coffee shop early on a Saturday to do some searching, finding you were way more productive and less likely to get distracted in the public place. And though you had been good so far, that didn’t mean you had found any results. Deciding to refresh the page one more time before giving up for a bit, you set down your cup.  
Scrolling to the top of the page you click refresh and watch as the pictures disappear for a second before popping back. You are shocked to see a new ad, one that wasn’t there a second ago. From the small icon it looked good, the description detailing a rough location and a price that seemed almost too good to be true. Clicking it to expand the details and see more pictures you were shocked at what you were seeing. A spare room in a flat that was probably double the size of where you currently lived, in one of the most sought-after areas in the city, and the price of the room wasn’t through the roof. You read through the details looking for some sort of catch but couldn’t see anything, just a number at the bottom of the page saying to call with queries or interest.
Instinctively you pick up your phone and type in the number given. This was so unlike you, normally someone to not make a quick decision, to mull over everything before acting, but even you could see that this could be something too good to miss. You were willing to risk looking into it more given how long you’d been looking, even if it was just to find out they’d accidentally missed a zero off the end of the rent price. It took 5 rings before someone answered the phone.
“Hello,” a female voice sounded out.  
“Hi I’m Y/N, I’m calling regarding the ad that has been placed on spareroom.com,” you put on your most formal, chipper voice.
“Oh, that was quick,” you can hear the surprise in the voice.
“Yeah, I guess I was just looking at the right time,” you say, not wanting to sound too desperate in admitting that you basically live on that site.
“Well, is there anything you wanted to ask? Any details I missed from the ad?” She asks.
“I was actually hoping I could come and have a look at the room. The pictures and description make it sound great but it would be nice to see it in person,” you reply.
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll have to have a look when it’s free,” she pauses and you can hear the flicking of pages as if she is looking through a diary. “You see it’s not actually my flat, I’m just putting it up for a friend, I guess. It’s kind of complicated actually, but I can talk you through it all when we meet,” her tone and what she says worries you slightly, you knew that there had to be some sort of catch. This was definitely too good to be true. “We could actually go look this afternoon if you’re free?” She says.
“That would be great,” you say. Even though there was some doubt seeping into your mind from what she had said you decided that it was still worth going to look around. The worst that could happen is that it’s awful and whatever complicated situation she was talking about was a deal breaker and then you would continue your search. But this complicated situation might not be that bad and then you may finally have a place to live. It was worth spending some of your Saturday looking around a flat, plus you got to snoop in someone's house which was always a perk.
“OK, I’ll text you the address and a time, I’m guessing this number is ok?” She says.
“Yep, this number is perfect. I look forward to meeting you later,” you say.
“I’m Rosie by the way. Should have introduced myself earlier,” she gives out a small laugh at her words. “Anyway, just come to the address later and tell the doorman you’re meeting me and he’ll point you in the right direction. I’ll put all of this in the text, don’t worry.”
“Great, see you later,” you reply before you both hang up.
Placing the phone down on the table you go over the conversation you just had. A doorman? The place looked fancy from the pictures and you could tell by the address that it was in a good area but a doorman? Maybe this place was out of your league.
Just as you are think this a text comes through and you look at the message.  
Hi Y/N, this is Rosie. It was nice speaking to you and I look forward to meeting you in person. As I said just let the doorman know you are looking for me and he will help you out.
At the end of the text she lists the address and you immediately open a new tab to look into the building. A few news stories pop up with a list of famous people who are rumoured to live in the building, a few pictures of them entering and leaving the building. Next there were a few websites that list the prices of the flats and you suck in a large amount of air, eyes widening at the price. You would never earn that sort of money in your lifetime let alone be able to spend it on a flat. Maybe Rosie was right when she said there was a complicated story behind this spare room. Why the hell was someone, that was obviously rich, listing their spare room for some stranger to live with them?
Looking down at what you were wearing and then at the clock you decide that you have enough time to rush home and change into something that could be classed as a bit nicer than your current attire. Almost slamming your laptop shut, you shove it into your open bag before downing your drink and rushing out of the café.
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Your eyes pan up the side of the building, your head falling backwards on your neck so that you can see the top. It was shear glass and you imagine that the views of the city from the upper floors are beautiful. After taking in the building you look down and slowly move towards the door, continuing to question how you managed to find this place advertising a spare room. Glancing down at your phone and then at the fancy plaque by the door, you check for the tenth time that you are at the right place. Confirming the words do in fact match each other you reach for the door only for it to swing open for you, a man in a smart black suit holds the door and looks down at you. There is a small forced smile on his lips and you can see by the look in his eye that you would not want to be on the wrong side of him.
“Can I help you?” He questions, his voice just as stern as his demeanour.  
“Hi,” you almost stutter the words, intimidated by the man. “I’m here for Rosie. I mean Rosie said to meet her here?” Your voice is full of the nerves that are currently swimming around your stomach and you curse yourself for not asking what Rosie’s second name was.  
The small forced smile is replaced by a more genuine smile, the man's eyes softening as he looks at you. “She told me you’d be coming. Come on in,” relief washes over you as the man steps out of your way, holding the door open so you can enter the building.  
Giving him a small smile as you walk past him, you step into the lobby. The ceilings are tall and light floods in through the windows. There are a few sofas scattered for people to sit, some coffee tables with magazines and books on top. A small desk is by the door, some buttons and papers scatter the desk and you assume that is where the man who had just held the door open for you sits. At the far end of the lobby there are some elevator doors and placed around the edge of the room there are large leafed plants. If this was just the entrance to the building what the hell do the flats look like, you think. This room alone was nicer than any other room you had stepped foot in in your life. The doorman steps past you and heads towards the elevator and you slowly follow him.  
“You will be going to the 14th floor. When the doors open there is a small room, almost like a porch and there you will see the front door to the flat. Rosie is already up there so if you knock, she should come meet you,” he gives you the details after having pushed the button to summon the elevator and you nod at his words.  
There is a small ding as the doors open revealing a small mirrored room. Looking to the man for reassurance you step in and say thanks just before the doors close, leaving you on your own. You can feel your heart thump in your chest as you push the number 14. The elevator feels like it's hardly moving as it ascends and you rub your sweaty palms on your trousers as you near your destination.  
Just as the man described, when the doors open there is a small room. Again, a small sofa with some plants welcome you, just as they had in the lobby. Stepping out of the elevator you head to the door and knock hard before you can over think the situation you have found yourself in. It only takes a few seconds but each one feels like an hour before the door opens. A girl stands before you, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a well fitted black dress on, light make-up on her face. She beams at you as soon as the door is opened and you feel her energy infectious, a smile appearing on your own face as you look at her.  
“Hi, it’s Y/N right?” She says as she extends a hand for you to shake. “I’m Rosie, it’s nice to meet you.”  
“Nice to meet you too,” you say as you shake her hand, nerves slowly dissipating as you do.  
Stepping out of your way and holding the door open, much like the doorman had earlier, Rosie silently invites you into the flat. Taking a step in you slip your shoes off before looking around. The place looked exactly like the photos you had seen, if not slightly better.  
“So I thought I’d give you a quick tour and then we can have a chat and go over a few points,” Rosie says and you nodded.
You silently follow her around the flat, where she shows you the kitchen, a modern open plan space with a big island in the middle where you could sit and eat. A living room with a light grey square sofa that could easily accommodate 20+ people, this faced a TV that covered nearly half the wall. Then you moved onto a hall where you walked past several doors before she opened one that held a large bed and had an attached ensuite. The whole place seemed like it was over the top, there was everything you would find in a normal flat but it seemed to be doubled in size here. Pictures and art lined every room that you went into and the decor looked like it was straight out of a high-end magazine.
Walking around you felt like you didn’t belong here, it was the most amazing place you had ever seen and you were unsure what the catch was. You would never in a million years be able to afford a place like this. When you had seen your could be room, Rosie leads you back towards the living room but carries on past the door to another room. Set up as a snug come library of sorts, it was definitely your favourite room you had seen, it felt the homeliest and the view of the city was amazing, if you really focused you could make out your office and current flat.  
Rosie takes a seat on one of the armchairs and indicates for you to take one of the other seats.  
“So that’s a quick look at the flat. What do you think?” She asks.  
“I mean it’s beautiful. I’m kind of wondering why the rent is so low and why the spare room is being advertised in the first place,” you admit, hoping to get to the point quickly.  
“Yes,” Rosie sighs and looks out the window which makes your heart pick up in slight panic. “Well like I said I don’t actually live here I’m just doing this for a friend. And as you will have also noticed the flat is empty apart from us. Basically, the person who owns the flat, my friend, he is a busy man and doesn’t actually live here that much. He often is travelling on business for long periods of time and when he is in the city he works a lot so even then he is hardly home,” she pauses to gage your reaction which is pure confusion, unsure where this is headed. “Well he doesn’t like the idea of the flat sitting empty all the time. He wants someone to move in and live here, keep it clean, use the appliances so they don’t seize up or anything.”
“So he wants a live-in house sitter. The rent is so low because I’ll be expected to do jobs around the place?” You question, slightly confused by the explanation. Was this guy making the rent so low because he was expecting the person to almost work for him in return. You already had a job, you didn’t need to be coming home to work some more. “Could he not just hire a cleaner to come here every day?”  
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Rosie is quick to reassure you. “He just wants someone to live here. You wouldn’t be expected to do any jobs, if something broke then someone else would come and fix it just like in a normal contract. And a cleaner comes here once a week already, so you would only be expected to keep the place tidy,” she pauses again, obviously searching for the words to explain what she means. “He just wants someone to live here, to enjoy the space, to make it homely, to just appreciate the flat in the ways that he can’t.”  
You remain confused. The person that lived here was obviously rich, they were obviously successful, why would they want someone to invade their space just so that the space is enjoyed. Didn’t they want to enjoy the space themselves without someone lurking around. It didn’t really make any sense to you.  
“You would hardly see him,” Rosie continues seeing the unease on your face. “To be honest you may never meet him, like I said he is hardly here and when he is, he is a pretty private person.”
“That’s what's confusing me,” you admit. “I’m not going to lie, this flat is amazing and beautiful and I have never seen anything like this in my life and I don’t think I will ever be able to afford to live in a place like this. But if I could, I wouldn’t want anyone living here, even if I was hardly here, I’d want it all to myself. And the rent is so ridiculously low for a place this nice, he could be charging through the roof and still have people paying him to stay here,” you have to stop yourself from rambling, remembering that you are still being considered to live here, you didn’t want to blow your chances by saying the wrong thing or convincing them of raising the rent to a figure you couldn’t afford.  
“I think that’s the thing, he doesn’t want just anyone staying here, he wants someone normal. It’s not about the money for him, like you said he has money. Listen, I can’t speak for him about his reasonings for doing this, and to be honest I tried to convince him to not do it, like you said he could get any crazy living here. But I guess that’s my job, to find the best person to live here for him,” Rosie says.  
“And have I passed the checks?” You smile at her, the tension in the room lessening slightly.  
“I’m not sure yet,” she laughs faintly.  
“To be completely open and honest with you, I googled this place when you sent me the address,” she raises an eyebrow at your confession a small smile on her face and you can tell that she was expecting this. “It’s seems like a popular building, lots of well-known people living here. Am I allowed to know who my potential flat mate is?”  
“It’s a very nice building, and like you said lots of very famous people live here, but unfortunately the person who lives here is not one of them. Just some hot-shot business man,” you can tell the speech is rehearsed and you are unsure whether to believe her, but to be honest you are secretly glad it’s not a famous person. And it made sense they weren’t, a famous didn’t need some crazed fan living in their flat.
“Suits me,” you nod at her and you can see relief wash over her face. “To be honest I’m not the sort of person that is into the whole fame thing anyway. I don’t really keep up with the latest gossip or news about what people I don’t know are doing,” you admit, and it was true. Sure you could recognise some famous people and you could pick out certain faces from a line up, but that was just because it was impossible to avoid all celeb news. You honestly had no interest in what a person you didn’t know was doing with their life.  
“You don’t read TMZ and scour the internet over whether Taylor Swift has got a new boyfriend on your weekends?” Rosie says and you can hear the sarcasm in her voice.  
“I didn’t know Justin Bieber was married until last weekend, and I honestly have no idea who he is married to,” you admit and you see the smile on her face widen at your confession. “But then I do know who Leonardo Dicaprio is and I know he is into environmental issues and finally won an Oscar a few years ago,” you say with a shrug giving her an insight into your level of celeb knowledge.  
“But then who doesn’t know that,” she laughs at your statement. “So you may not even know if you bump into a famous person here?”  
“Honestly when I saw the list of names online there was a few a recognised but not many. I’d possibly recognise their face but may not be able to place it,” you say and she hums in response her faced scrunched in thought as she looks at you. You were being honest with her and you hoped she could see that and didn’t think you were saying all of this just to secure the room.  
After that the conversation moves onto some questions about you; where you work, why you are looking for a room, questions about cleanliness and general upkeep, normal questions someone would ask a potential new flatmate. When Rosie finishes her questions you both get up and head to the door, she stands at the door and watches as you call for the lift.  
“Thanks for coming today,” she says.
“Thanks for letting me look around so quickly. It really is a lovely flat,” you reply.
“I’ll be in contact with you to let you know our decision either way, obviously I will have to discuss this with Hobi,” she slips up and reveals the name of the man that lives here. You try to remain passive at the name though you can see the slight panic in her eyes at her mistake, though you honestly don’t recognise the name. “And there are a few other potential people that are going to come have a look around to,” she carries on as if nothing had happened.
“Of course, I don’t expect it to be a quick decision,” you say. “Do you have any idea when I’ll hear by?”  
“I’ll get back to you by the end of next week,” she says.
You nod at her and hear the ding of the elevator from behind you.
“It was nice to meet you. I look forward to hearing from you,” you smile as you back into the elevator.
“You too, Y/N,” Rosie says before the doors close.
As you stare at your reflection in the mirror heading down to the lobby you are a bit in shock. What the hell was that place and who the hell was this Hobi that owned a flat that he hardly lived in? The situation all seemed so strange, something you could never have imagined. As you head down to the lobby you imagine living here, and as amazing as it was you wonder whether it is even somewhere that you’d ever feel comfortable. You feel out of place just stood in the elevator and would probably walk around on egg shells in fear of breaking anything in the flat. It was all in Rosie and the mysterious Hobi’s hands now so there was no point even thinking about it until you heard a reply, you reason as the doors finally open to the lobby.  
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“So let me get this straight. Some rich ass man wants you to live in his expensive ass house where you will basically have the place to yourself and all you have to do is make sure the place is tidy?” Lily says.
“I mean, kind of yeah,” you reply.  
After meeting with Rosie you had come home and after changing into some comfier clothes you had collapsed on the sofa and told Lily about your crazy day.  
“When do you move in?” You can hear the excitement in Lilys voice.  
“I’ve already told you, today was just me looking at the place. They need to tell me if they want me first and then I have to decide if I want to live there,” you explain for what feels like the fiftieth time.  
“I’m still not understanding why you would turn down this offer. It sounds too good to be true, an amazing flat that will basically be yours for basically shit all money.”
“That’s the point,” you sigh, your brain slightly aching from all the thoughts that had been running through your head since you left the flat. “It’s too good to be true, there has to be some sort of catch.”
“And what if there isn’t? What if it is exactly how it looks? You over think everything Y/N, please just this once don’t over think it,” Lily pleads.  
“I’ve not even been offered the room yet,” you say, but when you look at Lilys face you give in. “But fine. If they offer me the room, I promise I will not over think it.”
Lily squeals slightly and leans in to give you a tight hug. “I can’t wait to see this amazing flat,” she says into your ear.
You simply roll your eyes at her, unwilling to correct her statement, you may never move in.
Over the next week, however, you can’t get the flat out of your head. You continue to look at possible rooms online, as you still might need to find something, but as you scroll you never really take in anything, nothing living up to what you had already found. By the Tuesday you all but stop looking, deciding that if everything falls through and you don’t get offered the room then you could pick up your search again. A few days off wouldn’t kill you.
But your lack of searching only increases your thoughts of the flat. You remember the details of the city out of the window, it never looking quite as beautiful from where you stood on the ground. You remember the big kitchen, and curse whenever you were in your own and Lily walked in, making it feel cramped. You remember the room that could be yours, the bare walls and how you would decorate them, the big bed you could be sleeping in, the shower that would surely have amazing high pressure that wouldn’t cause the water to be just a trickle. You remember the little snug room that you spoke to Rosie in, the books and CDs that lined the walls and the different comfy chairs that all had contrasting patterns. As much as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t get it out of your head.
What you also couldn’t get out of your head was this mysterious man. Though you had caught the name when it slipped out of Rosies mouth you decided to respect his privacy and did not look into the name. If he wanted to remain unknown then so be it, as Rosie said you would probably never meet him anyway so it made no difference to you. And although Lily had asked several times you only told her that you didn’t know who owned the flat and that it was just some business man, that is essentially all you knew anyway.
As the week started to draw to a close you became more and more attached to your phone. Any notification or noise that came from it sent your heart racing at the possibility of it being Rosie. Yet none of them were her. As Sunday started to draw to a close you gave up hope entirely. To be honest you had expected to hear by Friday night so the fact it had been two whole days and you still hadn’t heard anything, you had essentially given up hope.
By Monday you were slightly annoyed. After work you opened up your laptop and started to scroll through your frequented websites in search of a possible new room. You were annoyed that Rosie hadn’t even messaged you to say that they weren’t offering you the room. When you had left her she had said that she would let you know either way, yet here you were without a word.
You became slightly grumpy at home too, pushing your bad feelings onto Lily and her boyfriend Eddie. Every time you caught yourself snapping or being moody you would apologise, but Lily understood and didn’t blame you for your behaviour. You were in a complete funk by Tuesday evening, annoyed at yourself now for getting your hopes so high. You should have been realistic and realised that the flat was too good for you. That of course they would offer it to someone else. That you were right from the start, you didn’t belong in a place like that.
As you sit on your bed your phone rings, you didn’t even look at the caller ID before answering, head somewhere completely else.
“Hello,” you say. Hearing your own voice sounded weird, it came out flat and devoid of emotion, not your normal self.
“Hi, Y/N? It’s Rosie,” you perk up at the voice and have to pull the phone away from your head to check the number. Sure enough it was Rosie. “Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“No, no, sorry,” you stutter out, coughing slightly to make your voice sound more normal. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a call.”
“That’s my fault sorry. I said I’d let you know by last week and it’s my fault entirely that I am so late, there’s been a lot going on recently. But again my fault, no excuses,” she says.
“No, it’s OK,” you reply, feeling your bad mood drift away, only to be replaced by nerves. The anticipation of what she was about to tell you made you feel like you were back at school waiting for your exam results, were you going to pass and feel elated or fail and go back to your funk.
“So, as I assume you have guessed, it’s about the room you viewed the other week,” she explains as if you have no clue what is going on. You remain silent letting her fill it with an answer. “So I have spoken to my friend and as I said we did have some other people come and look at the flat, to be honest we had quite a bit of interest,” her words were not filling you with hope and you had to will yourself to sound positive when she lets you down. “But me and my friend both agree that you would be the perfect match and he would like to offer you the room.”
You almost drop the phone at her words. Your mouth pops open in shock, eyes go wide as you stare at the wall in front of you. No words escape your mouth and your brain fails to come up with anything to say. The line stays quiet.
“Obviously if you have found something else in the meantime, we understand. As I said it’s completely my fault for getting back to you so late,” Lily fills the silence.
“No,” you managed to say when there is another pause for you to speak. “I mean yes,” you almost shake your head in an attempt to get your brain to shift into gear. “Sorry. I mean you don’t have to apologise. And yes, I would love to accept the offer,” you are shocked at how calm your voice sounds as you feel anything but calm. 
“Great, that’s amazing, Hobi will be so pleased,” she says the name this time with purpose as you will now be sharing a flat with him. “I’ll have to draw up some paper work which we can go through together, and there will be a few house rules that I should tell you, and I’m sure you will have lots of questions. Otherwise, I think everything is all set up for you to move in.”
“Great,” is the only word you can think to say as already everything seems to be moving at break neck speed.
“I’ll get everything sorted and text you about meeting up so we can go through everything,” Rosie says.
“I look forward to it. Thanks for getting back to me,” you reply.
“I promise I won’t leave it so long this time,” she laughs down the phone.
You both say your goodbyes before you hang up and drop the phone on your bed in front of you. Sitting there for a minute in silence, you stare at the wall, your mind seemingly racing but also unable to have any thoughts. After a second you leap into action, quite literally jumping off the bed. Running out of your room you start to scream Lilys name.
“What is it,” Lily burst opens her bedroom door, popping out into the living room just as violently as you had seconds ago.
“I got the room,” your voice is still loud and sounds out around the room.
“Oh, my, effing, god,” Lily stomps over to where you are stood and engulfs you in her arms. Looking over her shoulder you see Eddies head poke around the door.
“What's all the screaming about?” He says.
“She got the room,” Lily screams your earlier statement, jumping up and down with you still in her arms. You both laugh as you spin around in circles.
“What room did she get?” Eddie questions, still stood in the door way.
“THE room. I told you about this. She got the room,” Lily says, pulling away from you to look at Eddie.
“Oh right, the room,” Eddie says, and you are unsure if he is saying it just to appease the two of you. “Congrats Y/N,” he gives you a smile.
“Thanks, Eddie,” you say. “Hey, shall we pop something open? To celebrate? Me moving out, you guys finally having your own place, lots to celebrate.”
“Hell yes,” Lily replies, already walking over to the fridge to get something to drink.
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It had been a mere two weeks since you had the call with Rosie to say that you had the room and in that time you had packed up your belongings, signed the paper work that Rosie had set up for you and gotten the keys to your new flat, well the room within the flat.  
When you had met up with Rosie she had gone over some of the things that your flatmate would be expecting from you. How he expected the flat to remain tidy, he didn’t want to come home to dirty dishes left out or dirty clothes dumped over the flat. He wanted all his things to stay where they were, you weren’t allowed to go into his room or two of the other rooms that Rosie hadn’t shown you on your tour. She gave you details of people to call in the cases of emergency, of people that would come round to the flat such as the cleaner, and let you know the doorman was called Keith and he could help with almost anything. The only number she didn’t give you was that of your new flatmates. She told you that overall Hobi had said to make yourself at home and to treat the place like it was yours. Though after all the rules she had listed you felt like you may struggle to do that.
At the end of your meeting though you signed the documents and she handed over the keys to the flat. She gave you a date that you could move in and said she would meet you there to make sure you settled in and check that you had no final questions. As you left the meeting you felt like the whole thing seemed very formal, it felt like you were buying the flat not renting a room, even when you had rented your flat with Lily you hadn’t had to jump through this many hoops. You had just over a week to pack up all your belonging and move into your new flat.
That’s where you stood now, with Lily and Eddie outside your new building, each with a couple of bags in your hands.
“I kind of thought you guys were joking when you were describing this place,” Eddie says as you all head towards the door.
“I’ve seen pictures and even I thought Y/N was joking,” Lily says.
“I’ve been here, and even I thought I was joking,” you laugh with them.
Keith, the doorman, opens the door for you as you approach and welcomes you in, obviously now informed on the fact you’d be a new resident. Thanking him you make your way to the elevator and after all cramming in with the bags you had, you head up to the flat. You excitedly pull out your new key and twist it in the lock, and sure enough the door swings open. You give a small squeal as it does, it all finally hitting you that this was real.
“This is fucking insane,” Lily says after she dumps the bags she was carrying at the door and starts wondering around the flat. “Like fucking insane,” she emphasises, opening random doors in the kitchen. “Theres actual food in here,” she says.
“It’s almost like someone else lives here,” you say in mock wonder.
“But can you just help yourself?” She asks as she continues to open every door that is within reach.
“I have no idea. Rosie is coming over at some point so I’m sure we can clear all that up,” you reply. “Anyway, stop snooping. I want to give you both a tour.”
You grab her hand and start dragging her around the flat, Eddie diligently following you both around. They are both the perfect people to show around, providing the right sound effects when needed, ooing and ahhing when you open a new door. You end the tour where you had with Rosie, in the snug and you each take a chair.
“I will never stop saying how amazing this place is,” Lily says. “Maybe I should move in and you can stay in the flat with Eddie.”
“Hey,” Eddie mocks offense. “I think I should move here and you two can go back to sharing the flat,” he jokes and you both laugh.
“The one big thing I notice is a lack of pictures,” Lily says and you nod, having noticed the same thing. There were paintings and pictures on the wall but those were art, no personal pictures, no pictures of friends or family or of the man himself. “Do you not think that’s a bit strange?” Lily questions.  
“Maybe he prefers art, I know people who don’t have pictures in their houses,” you defend your new flatmate.  
“Name one,” Lily challenges and when you don’t offer any answers she carries on. “Maybe they’re in those secret rooms that we’re not allowed in.”  
“You mean his bedroom,” you roll your eyes at her. “I wouldn’t want him going in my room when I’m not here,” you reason.  
Lily puts her arms up in defence, doing a fake surrender. “Well the place is amazing,” she moves the conversation on and you’re glad of it.
“It’s pretty sweet,” you reply.  
“I will miss living with you though,” Lily says with a small pout.
“We’ll still see each other all the time though,” you reason with a smile and she gives a reassuring nod.  
Lily and Eddie help you unpack your belongings in your room. You hadn’t bothered to bring any pots and pans or plates as Rosie had said all of that was communal and you were more than welcome to use it. You had also left behind some of items that would be too big to fit in your room, deciding that the flat was fully furnished anyway and the stuff you owned would look cheap. So, it didn’t take the three of you long to unpack.  
As promised Rosie popped round at one point to go through a few final points with you, show you some things she had missed on the original tour and answered any questions you had.  
Eddie and Lily stayed for some food, otherwise they headed home and left you alone in the flat for your first night. The place felt big, bigger than normal, when you were along in it and after clearing up the food you decided to just stay in your room, the living room feeling too intimidating for you on your own.  
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It had been a few weeks since you moved into the flat. The first few days you felt like you were tip toeing around, not wanting to touch anything or put anything out of place in fear of getting some sort of telling off. After a couple of days and after seeing no one in the flat you started to care less, it started off small, not putting pots and pans back perfectly, leaving a book on the side, leaving one of your blankets on the sofa. And after no one magically appeared to tell you off, you started to care less and less. Sure, you kept everything tidy and in its place as promised, but you stopped caring about everything being perfect.  
Though you started finally living as if the flat was somewhere you lived and not just somewhere you slept, you did start to feel lonely. Having always lived with someone it felt weird to come home from work and the flat be empty. Weekends when people were busy were hard, having to stay in a flat that was so quiet. You enjoyed being able to speak to someone, to walk out of your room at any moment and be able to just say hi to someone, to ask a basic question, to laugh at a film together, to comment on something that had happened in your day. You had to admit it, you missed actually living with another human being.  
It was late on a Tuesday night, you were tucked up in bed and just about drifting off to sleep when you heard the front door slam close. You jump up in bed and pull the covers tighter around your frame. Your sleepy mind not comprehending what was happening in the moment, you listen for further sounds to confirm your suspicions. Sure enough, someone was in your flat as you hear footsteps sound out along the hall outside your room. It take you far too long to connect the dots and realise that it was your flatmate and not some random person breaking in. Slightly embarrassed at the fact that you had completely forgotten that you don’t actually live alone, you stay sat in bed with your covers wrapped around your frame unsure what to do. Should you go out there and introduce yourself? Should you stay hidden away in your room? Would he even remember that he had a flatmate, or will it have slipped his mind just as it had yours? What if he came in here because he had forgotten too and sees you sat in bed?  
As the thoughts and possible scenarios run through your mind you continue to listen to his movements. You could hear him dragging a suitcase to his room earlier, and now you hear his footsteps making their way back towards the kitchen. Seconds later you hear the distinctive noise of a plate being taken out of the cupboard and placed on the side. He must have got some food from somewhere. Finally, you hear him head towards the living room and briefly hear the TV before the volume is turned down. It’s then that you realise that of course he has remembered you live here, and unlike you he is not being weird about the situation, instead being considerate and trying not to be noisy.  
Laying back down in the bed, you turn and pull your knees into your chest. The adrenaline still pumps through you from the thought of your flatmate being so close. If you were to just open your door to go and get a glass of water you might see him, might finally get to meet the man you had thought so much about. But even that simple act caused nerves to wrack through you. Him coming home this evening was so out of the blue you didn’t feel mentally prepared for a situation in which you meet him. Though you would never know his schedule, the fact you had no way of contacting the man not helping. Instead, you decide that sleep is the best option, chickening out of trying to meet him. It doesn’t come easily but eventually you do fall asleep.  
The next day you wake to your alarm and as you get dressed for work you almost forget that you may not be alone in the flat. Once you open your door and head for the kitchen however it becomes blaringly obvious. Although everything is clean and put away, you can’t help but notice how things have moved. Again, you start to tip toe around the flat, quickly making and eating your breakfast before tidying away. You are unsure if the man is even still here, but if he was you didn’t want to do anything to disturb him. Being ready for work in record time you leave.  
By Thursday night and after having heard the late-night entrance of your flatmate for two consecutive nights you decide to leave him a note. You had made too much pasta for tea, which was a common occurrence, but rather than Tupperware the excess up and store it for a future meal, you decide to plate it. It was a spur of the moment decision and as you look at the two plates in front of you, you wonder what you were doing. What if he didn’t even come home tonight, maybe he’d gone off on another business trip. You stop yourself from over thinking and decide to just go with it, if he wasn’t here then you could just have the pasta yourself tomorrow.  
After eating your meal, you place the spare plate in the fridge and then go in search of something to write on. It doesn’t take you long until you are back in the kitchen with a post-it note in your hand. Now it was time for you to over think everything you could possibly write down. Should you go for, made too much food, left you some. Or maybe, hope you didn’t have too hard a day, food in the fridge. They all sounded personal, as if you knew the guy, which you definitely didn’t. You spend a good 10 minutes thinking of all the things you could say and all of them sounded personal, you decided that there was no way around it so just settled on: There some pasta in the fridge if you want it.
Trying to not back out of it you place the note on the counter in a place that couldn’t be missed if you walked in the room, and then you left the room in a rush, as if you might be caught doing something you shouldn’t be. Watching a film in bed, one ear listening out for your flatmate, you eventually fall asleep without hearing any noise. 
Getting ready for work the next morning and walking into the kitchen you see a note on the side. He must not have come home last night you think as you head over to get rid of the note. As you get closer however you notice that it is not your handwriting on the note. Instead a gentle scrawl is on the page. 
Thanks, it was delicious.
Four words. Yet your heart manages to pick up speed in your chest due to nerves. Opening the fridge, sure enough the pasta you had put in there the night before was gone. A smile comes to your face at the thought of your flatmate enjoying the food you made, and you are glad that you decided to leave the note. 
Over the next week the food cooking and note leaving continue. You still had not seen anything of the man, but you would hear his late night clangs as he came home from work. You started to wonder what it was he did that meant he got home so late. But, although you were unsure, he would still be in bed when you left for work, so maybe he just had a weird shift pattern compared to you. Every morning you would wake and look forward to reading the notes he left you. They started to get longer, as yours had, he started to give you ‘tips’ or requests for how to make it better next time. Things like less spice next time, please and the peanut sauce was great, add more next time! They never failed to bring a smile to your face, and over the week where the exchanges happened you felt your mood picking up, deciding maybe the flat wasn’t so lonely after all.  
It had been two weeks since your first post-it note exchange and as you walk into the kitchen you can't help the smile that comes to your face at the sight of a new note. The smile falters slightly when you read the particularly long note however.
Delicious food, as always, next time you could add some mozzarella to the top? Won’t need food for the next few days, though I will miss it, off on a trip for work. Also, it still feels like I live here alone, where is all your stuff? Please feel free to move anything around or put up your own pictures. “See” you in a few days.
There was so much to take in. Your heart sank slightly when you read that he was going away again, the weekend was coming up and though you hadn’t seen him the previous weekends, part of you hoped that you would bump into him, thinking the weekend was the most likely time for it to happen. He hadn’t said how long he was going away for, just a few days, which could be anything from 2 days to a week. You wish you had a way of contacting him outside of these notes, you wanted to ask when he would be back so you could go back to leaving him food. The thing that really got you though was that he wanted you to add your own stuff to the flat. So far the only item that was yours outside of your room was a stray blanket, and even that wasn’t very you, having chosen the most beige one you could find that would fit with the décor. Pulling out your phone you open your messages with Lily composing a text.  
Y/N: Fancy coming to the flat this weekend to help me decorate?
You get a reply almost instantly.
Lily: I thought you would never ask. I’ll come Saturday with some wine and pyjamas.  
You smile at the text, that’s why you loved Lily, she was never shy and said exactly what she wanted.
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“So you still haven’t met him yet?”
You were sat in the flat after having a day of shopping with Lily. Your purchases were still in bags on the floor as you sit in the living room.  
“No,” you confirm.  
“But you’ve spoken over post-it note?” Lilys face scrunches slightly at her words showing how weird she finds the situation you are in.  
“It’s just notes about things around the flat, like if I leave him food or something,” you shrug trying to normalise the situation. “I don’t have any other way of communicating with him.”  
“Maybe you should just ask for his number then.”
“He obviously doesn’t want me to have it or Rosie would have given it me from the start.”
“But now you actually live here and have for just over a month, maybe he’s changed his mind.”
You just shrug at her statement not knowing how to reply.
“Or you could just meet him,” Lily pushes. “You said you hear him come home. You could easily just come out of your room and introduce yourself.”
You regret ever telling Lily any of this, mainly because you know she has a good point. You could easily just walk out of your room and introduce yourself and not make it weird. But you knew yourself and you knew you would make it awkward and uncomfortable, just the thought of doing it brought out a cold sweat.  
“Yeah, not going to happen,” you say.  
“You’re going to meet him one day,” she says. “Why don’t you just do it now, on your own terms rather than when you are least expecting it.”
Again, she had a good point.  
“We’ll see,” you respond as a way to show that you were not going to give in and wanted the conversation to move on.  
“Alright, but when you do eventually meet him, you know I want all the details,” she says.  
“That’s the only reason you want me to meet him isn’t it, so you can finally know what he looks like,” you roll your eyes at her.
“It’s killing me. How is it not killing you? How do you not just want to see what he’s like?” She asks and you can hear the desperation in her voice.  
“You have a boyfriend,” you laugh at her.
“I didn’t say I wanted to get with him,” it was her time to roll her eyes at you. “I don’t care if he’s ugly or the hottest guy on planet earth. Are you not the smallest bit curious what he looks like?”
“He could be some old man for all I know,” you reply, trying to act indifferent, though you agreed with Lily, you were dying to know who you were living with. You had images in your mind of what the guy looked like, and with the lack of pictures around the house, your imagination grew even more, some days picturing some hot business man, other days imagining an older gentleman with a long beard.  
“An old man living in a house like this?” Lily flings her arms around for effect. “No, he’s 30 max.”  
You hum in agreement. “What do you think he does then?” You give in and start to play along with Lily.  
“Some hot shot banker? Or maybe a lawyer,” Lily throws out some guesses.  
“Or a spy?” You do a fake gasp.  
“A spy who lets some random woman come and live with him? I think not,” Lily laughs.  
“He is always travelling. Off chasing all those bad guys,” you laugh along.  
“Humm, living with James Bond? I could be on board with that idea,” she nods, a wide smile on her face.  
“James Bond it is,” you agree, your face mirroring hers.  
“So come on then, how are we changing James’ flat?” She stands up and heads over to the bags of stuff you had bought.  
You both spend the rest of the weekend changing around items in the flat. You don’t go wild and change anything too dramatically, small changes here and there, a few more vibrant coloured cushions on the sofa, some colourful blankets, a few more house plants strategically placed. You added a fruit bowl in the kitchen as well as some more jars on the side full with teas and coffee, a vase that you could fill with flowers on the kitchen island. You did change one piece of art, taking down the piece that you hadn’t liked since you first arrived, a dark colourless abstract painting. You placed it by your flatmates bedroom door so that he could decide what do you with it, placing a note on top of it that just read: you did say I could change things around.  
As promised Lily stayed the night and you were so glad she did, having the best time with her. You drank wine, watched films, talked and decorated the flat. It was the best you had felt in weeks and by the time she left on Sunday you felt like you were more at home. Walking around the flat you were glad that the man had suggested you put your own stamp on the place. Though you were no longer tip toeing around you still had a feeling that you didn’t live here. But now looking around you felt like you finally lived here, like you could relax.  
There were no new notes over the next week, the painting and its note remained outside the mans bedroom, indicating he hadn’t returned. The few days he said he would be away obviously meant longer than the weekend you had assumed. You didn’t mind, with the flat feeling more homely you felt like you relaxed more into the space, spending less time cooped up in your room.  
When you woke up and went to the kitchen each morning your heart would drop when there was no new note however. Though you always wondered why, they were always short thank you’s, maybe the occasional longer note about something in the food he enjoyed or would change, never anything that special. You reasoned that the feelings were just because it made you feel less alone in the flat.
Eventually though the notes returned. Walking into the kitchen one morning you saw the distinctive post-it note lying on the counter top and had to stop yourself from running over to read it. Picking it up you read over the now familiar handwriting.
I’m back. The place looks a lot better. You were right about that painting, I have always hated it and don’t know why I kept it up for so long. Yours looks so much nicer.
The smile that you were suppressing came to your face. Such a simple note with hardly any information, yet it lifted your mood instantly. You were glad that he liked what you had added to the flat. It was his suggestion in the first place, but a small part of you did worry he would change his mind when he saw what you had done. Your style did seem brighter than his, apart from the much-loved snug room which you had not changed at all.
That evening you did as you had been doing whenever you knew your flatmate was home, you cooked extra and plated it up for him, leaving a note to let him know on the side. The days passed like this, you leaving him food, him leaving a thank you note in the morning. The notes started to get longer in length, sometimes you would find notes in other places around the flat. A note on a DVD recommending you watch it, a new colourful cushion with a note on it saying that he thought it would go with the ones you had added, some ingredients in the kitchen with a note asking if you could make a certain dish that evening. You returned the notes, leaving reviews of the films he had suggested, recommending books in the snug, adding your own in the collection that lined the walls, leaving notes on a new plant you bought that detailed the plants name and a fake greeting from said plant.
The post-it notes became an almost scavenger hunt, your heart leaping every time you saw the bright colour from corner of the room. Though you had still never met the man, you feel like you were slowly getting to know him better. Though you could walk past him in the street and not realise it was your flatmate, you knew what foods he liked, his favourite films and that he was prone to over loving plants accidentally killing them.
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It was a Tuesday when you woke up early, your body aching all over. Your throat felt like it was on fire, your chest tight. You had felt a bit rubbish the night before but had gone to bed early and thought you’d wake up fine this morning, but as you lay in bed you felt like pure shit. Literally rolling out of bed, you groan as your feet hit the floor. You attempt to head to the kitchen but only make it so far before deciding to go lie down in the living room instead.  
As you lay there, you wonder why you moved from your bed in the first place, it was much comfier there. You attempt to go back to sleep, having a few hours until you needed to get ready for work. This goes out the window fairly quickly as your body feels like it’s on fire, your head pounding, your limbs aching. You hadn’t felt like this in so long and you are unsure what had caused you to become so ill, and for it to get this bad so quickly and out of nowhere.
Getting up again you make it to the kitchen just to down some paracetamol and water before heading back to the sofa. Laying down you flick through Netflix, shoving a random film on in the hopes it would lull you to sleep. Opening your phone you text your manager, apologising for the hour but saying that you didn’t think you’d make it to work. With that you watch the film and it's not long before you drift back into sleep.  
You wake hours later, the film long finished, TV off and a blanket over your body. Your mind struggles to function as you blink at the bright light streaming into the room. Your body still aches and you head continues to pound. Sitting up you catch sight of the cup of water and pills on the coffee table, a distinctive bright post-it note next to it. The temperature you were running at made it near impossible but your face still manages to heat up when you realise what had happened. Shrugging the blanket off, which you now realise you didn’t fall asleep with, you lean over to grab the water and pills, taking those before doing anything else. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the note your flatmate must have left.  
Left you some water and paracetamol, looks like you might need it. Theres soup in the fridge. Don’t worry about cooking tonight.
The note confirms your suspicions that your flatmate must leave for work after you. It also confirms that he must have found you asleep in here this morning and put the blanket over you. Your face remains hot at the thought, not just because you were running a temperature. You’d never met this guy and the first time he sees you is when you feel like crap and are passed out on the sofa.  
The next thing that has your mind racing is the fact that he said not to worry about cooking tonight. Why would you cook in your current state? You had obviously got into the routine of you cooking him dinner, but surely he wouldn’t want to eat anything you made in fear of contagion. He probably just wanted to make it obvious that he wasn’t expecting any food that night.  
You don’t think about it for too much longer, your head starting to not hurt as much, the paracetamol you took earlier slowly kicking in. Putting something random on the TV again, it isn’t long until you fall back asleep.  
Waking up from what felt like a deep sleep, you already feel slightly better, the sleep helping. Without opening your eyes you hear the noise of the TV and are surprised that anything is still playing, it felt like you had been asleep for hours, but maybe it hadn’t been that long and the film you had put on was still playing. Groaning at you aching body, you roll over, eyes still closed as you curl in on yourself. Deciding that you should check the time to see if you could take some more paracetamol or not, you slowly sit up, another groan leaving your lips as you do so.  
“Sorry, did I wake you?” A deep voice speaks out.  
Your eyes bolt open, head shooting towards the voice, you almost forget the pain your body was in as you go rigid with shock. You find the source of the voice. A man was sat on the opposite side of the sofa to you. Concern is written all over his face as he looks you, he is sat with a big oversized sweater on, a top poking out of the bottom, grey jogging bottoms on his legs that are crossed underneath him. He has dark brown hair that is slightly messy and parted to show off his forehead, his dark brown eyes look at you as you remain sitting in shock, you mind not comprehending what’s happening, wondering whether you were in some dream.  
“What time is it?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky and hoarse from your illness and the fact you hadn’t spoken all day.  
A laugh leaves his lips as he looks down at his watch and you notice his perfect white teeth and the way his smile causes his cheeks to squish and small simples to form on his face. “It’s 5.40,” he says, eyes going back to you.  
The statement confuses you even more, if you weren’t ill today you would have just been getting home from work. Something wasn’t adding up in your mind, you had felt like you had slept for a few hours meaning it should be the time the man had stated, but you assumed the man to be your flatmate and yet he was never home at this hour. Maybe he wasn’t your flatmate after all. You put a hand to your head and groan at how much it was pounding.  
“I’ll get you something for that,” the man leaps off the sofa at seeing your distress and almost runs to the kitchen. Reappearing within a few seconds he walks over to you, giving you a pint of water and some tablets, before he sits down on the sofa, closer to you than before.  
You down the tablets and take a few extra gulps of water before looking over at the man, his eyes already watching you. “Sorry, I just feel really crap,” you state the obvious, your voice helping make your point by still sounding hoarse.  
“I found you on the sofa this morning and got a bit worried,” he admits. “Have you had anything to eat today?”  
So, this was your flatmate. Your face heats suddenly at his words, remembering waking up with a blanket over you this morning. Your eyes fall to your lap in embarrassment. “No,” you croak in answer to his question.  
“Are you hungry? I could cook something? Or warm up some soup? Or just order some food?” He fires the questions at you and you bring your eyes back up to him.  
“I’m not really hungry,” you say and you see his face shift to one that looks a bit annoyed.  
“You need to eat something,” he scolds you slightly. “You’ll feel better for it,” he says before pulling his phone out, taping on it. “I’ll order something for both of us, you don’t have to have much, but you’re having something.”  
You watch as he continues to tap on his screen, he doesn’t even bother asking if there is anything you fancy eating, deciding for you. Pulling the blanket tighter around yourself you flop down on the sofa so you’re are lying again. Feeling less nervous around the man, probably due to how ill you felt. You realise that this is the first time you had met and spoken to him in person. This is not how you imagined it happening, you looking like a complete mess, sweating and coughing all over his very expensive sofa. You look over at him from your current position, eyes taking him all in as his eyes are for once on his phone and not you. You had to admit that he looked familiar, you wouldn’t be able to place where you knew him from but you were sure you’d seen him on your TV.  
Putting his phone down, he looks over at you and your face heats at the realisation that he has caught you staring at him. A smile forms on his face as he looks at you.  
“All ordered, it should be here soon,” he says and there is a slight pause before he continues. “I’m Hoseok by the way. I’m assuming you guessed, but I’m your flatmate.”  
Hoseok. Rosie had called him Hobi, but that was obviously a nickname. You give him a small smile before saying your name.  
“I guessed,” he nods at you, his smile widening. “Nice to finally meet you Y/N.”
You hum lowly at him in agreement, your heart pounding slightly in your chest and you’re not sure if it’s due to your illness or the presence of the man currently sat in the room with you.  
“Sorry I look and feel so rubbish, I’m normally more fun than this,” you croak.  
“I think you look perfectly fine,” he shrugs keeping his eyes on you and you have to look away in embarrassment.  
There is a seconds pause before you speak again. “Why are you here anyway?” You ask before realising how rude that must have sounded and continue to clarify your point. “I mean, you’re never normally home at this time. Did you get to leave early today?”  
It was his turn to falter under your gaze, his eyes flicking away from your face and resting on the TV. You see a slight pink creep up his neck.  
“We didn’t have much on this evening and I saw how ill you were this morning that I got a bit worried leaving you here alone,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal, but your heart almost grows in size at the gesture. The man hardly knew you yet he had taken time off work to come and look after you?  
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say feeling slightly bad.  
“Don’t worry about it,” he continues to act as if it is no big deal. “Anyway, it was about time we actually met.”
You hum in agreement, deciding to sit back up again, reaching for your water to take a sip. “I just wish I felt a bit better,” you repeat your earlier statement.  
“Me too,” Hoseok says softly. “Anyway, I wanted to say that I really love what you’ve done with the place. I know I wrote it in a note but I want you to know I really mean it.”
“It’s just a few cushions and plants,” you try to push off his statement.  
“Maybe, but it makes it feel like someone actually lives here. I enjoy coming back here now, rather feeling like I’m living in a hotel.”
“Some hotel,” you mock and he laughs gently. “But it’s seriously nothing. I should be thanking you for letting me stay here and invade your space with my rubbish.”  
He rolls his eyes at you. “It’s not rubbish,” he says. “Just take the compliment,” he smiles at you.  
“Ok, thanks,” you give in. “But I do also honestly want to say thanks for letting me live here. It is a very nice place you have here.”  
“Can I be honest with you?” You watch his face shift in emotion again, an almost sadness coming over his features, and you nod at him. “Most of my friends told me that I shouldn’t do this, let someone live here that is. And I nearly listened to them. But I used to come home and just feel like it wasn’t my home. I thought that having someone else actually live here would make it feel lived in and more like a home, and maybe at the start that didn’t quite happen,” he shoots you a look and you know he is referring to how you didn’t put any of your stuff outside the confines of your room. “But that’s why I’m saying thank you for living here and putting your stuff everywhere, because now I enjoy coming home and I feel like I am somewhere that is lived and loved, and that makes me feel nice.”  
Your heart warms at his words. He had said he liked the decorations on a note before and had obviously thanked you enough times. He had even started to buy more decorations for the flat incorporation with things you had added. But you had no idea that it had this much of an effect on him. You smile gently at him.  
“I don’t know, is that weird?” He says into the pause, obviously worried he had gone too far with his words.  
“No, not at all,” you reassure him. “It’s nice to know that you like my additions. But what about the snug? That always been warm and homely?”
“The snug?” His face scrunches in confusion before being overtaken by realisation. “Oh, the snug, I like that,” he smiles at you. “That’s all my sisters doing. I let her loose on that one room when I moved in and I think it’s where I feel most at home. It’s definitely the most me room. Believe it or not I actually like bright colours.”  
He had a sister? You were slowly learning more and more about the man and everything was interesting to you. You wanted to know more, you wanted to know everything.  
“I think it’s my favourite room. She has great taste,” you say.  
“She’ll be happy to know that.”  
“Are the two of you close?”  
“In a way. We get on and I try to talk to her as often as I can. But as you may have noticed, I have a pretty hectic life so it’s hard to see her and my family.”  
If anyone could understand that it was you, you lived with the man and this was the first time you had seen him. You felt sorry for him, he was obviously very successful and had a lot of money, but you could see that it made him sad that he didn’t get to see his family very often. Was money really everything? But then you still had no idea what his job was, maybe it was worth all these sacrifices he seemed to be making.  
Before you can question him anymore a buzz sounds from the door.  
“Must be our food,” he says and you slowly start to rise. “You stay here,” he leaps up, raising a hand in your direction. “I’ll go get it and bring it all through,” he says before leaving you alone in the room.
Pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders you look towards the TV. You felt like you were in some sort of fever dream. You had expected to meet your flatmate at some point, but when you imagined it, it was some awkward meeting in the hall that lasted a few minutes, not what was currently happening. You had felt awkward at times, otherwise the conversation had been easy. You couldn’t remember the last time you had met someone for the first time and were able to talk to them as easily as you just had with Hoseok. Normally you would have been stuttering, especially if they looked as good as he did. You reach for your phone and open up your messages with Lily.
Y/N: I just met James Bond.
You send the message, both of you having called your flatmate James Bond ever since you had the joke about you living with a spy. Needing to tell someone about the encounter you had just had you of course told the only person you could. As normal with Lily you almost instantly got a reply.
Lily: WTF!! What’s he like? Send me a picture! I need details!!
Y/N: I am not going to take a picture of him. And he’s nice.
Lily: I need more than that.
Y/N: Can’t talk now, he’s coming back. Will call soon.
Lily: Why did you even bother telling me, it’s like you’re trying to torture me. Call me tomorrow.
You chuckle slightly at how dramatic she could be before looking up to see Hoseok walk in with arms full of food.
“So I know you said you weren’t that hungry, but I thought you might change your mind when everything got here,” he says, placing the banquet of food on the coffee table. “What do you want?”
“I’m honestly not that hungry,” you say genuinely meaning it, but when you look at him and see his stern face you give in. “Maybe just a bit of something plain? Those noodles look good.”
He gives you a wide smile as he picks up the noodles and hands them to you with some cutlery.
“Thanks,” you say taking it off him. “And you’ll know how much I owe you?”
He ignores your comment, instead picking up the remote and looking to the TV.
“What we watching?” He asks.  
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“You know when I said I don’t care if he’s the hottest man on earth, I take it back,” Lilys voice sounds through the phone the next evening.  
You had taken the day off work again, although you felt slightly better you still weren’t 100% and when you called your boss he had said it was fine for you to have another day off. The previous night you had eaten a bit of food and watched a movie with Hoseok before falling asleep on the sofa again. You were awoken to him gently saying your name and rocking your shoulder, telling you to go to your own bed to sleep. The following morning he had knocked on your door to check on how you were, dropping some food and medicine off before explaining that he was heading off to work. You had no idea when you would next see him, and he didn’t let you know when he would next be home. After trying to sleep off your illness for the rest of the day you finally called Lily to give her the details that she was craving.  
“You haven’t even seen him, how are you assuming he is the hottest man on earth?” You laugh.
“Y/N, you just described him, you made him sound like a walking god,” you cringe at her words, you hadn’t realised that you had made him out to be like that, but maybe you inadvertently had.  
“He’s alright I guess,” you attempt to back track.  
“Yeah, whatever,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling down the other end of the phone. “So what did you talk about?”
“Normal stuff,” you shrug. “He was mainly just making sure I wasn’t too ill.”  
“Aww, he sounds like he’s the cutest,” she coos.  
“He was probably just making sure I wasn’t infecting his flat, which would then make him ill,” again you try to downplay it.  
“Will you stop. Just admit he ticks all the boxes. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he looks after you and he’s rich,” she lists off.  
“Sure, but I never see him. I live with the guy and I never see him, surely that is the biggest red flag going,” you reply. “Anyway, it’s not like that. We are flatmates, we met last night and talked like normal flatmates and it was nice.”  
“OK, nothing’s going to happen, sure,” she says. “Maybe he has friends? You could definitely settle for a friend.”
“This is not some dating expedition,” you laugh. “Can’t I just talk to a guy without their being any romance or possible intentions behind it?”  
“You’re right, sorry,” she sighs. Lily always did this, you couldn’t bring up a guys name without her questioning you about him. You know there were only good intentions behind it, she just wanted to see you happy, but as you always told her, you could be happy and also single.  
“It’s alright. It’s just he’s basically my landlord so I don’t want any weirdness there.”
“Yeah, you have a pretty sweet set up there, you wouldn’t want anything ruining that,” she agrees. “I just want you to have the best.”
“And one day I will,” you smile down the phone. “Listen, I think I’m going to have a snack and then probably sleep some more. I should probably try and get back to work tomorrow. I love you and will see you soon.”
“Love you too, hope you feel better tomorrow,” she says before the line goes dead.  
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After that one encounter with Hoseok, things went back to normal. You got over your illness and started to go back to work. Hoseok went back to his normal life of coming home at god know what time when you were asleep. You’re paths never crossing, except for the post-it notes, which seemed to almost double in quantity. Handwriting become smaller and more cramped on the notes so that more details could be given.
The notes still remain on fairly mundane topics, never straying into anything to personal. You still had no real idea who the man really was, what he did for a living, where he went every day. But you did have a good idea who the man was in the sense of his likes and dislikes. It didn’t feel like much, but you still enjoyed reading his notes every day. Replying to them with your own thoughts.  
It was a Friday night and you had agreed to go out with some friends. It wasn’t common for you and your friends to go out, preferring quiet nights in. Heading over to Lilys to get ready you had both decided to make a bit of effort, sipping on drinks while you both dance around your old flat and slowly put make-up on.
Getting tipsy before heading to the club wasn’t necessarily your intention but you had both got carried away pre-drinking. By the time you met up with the rest of your friends you were on the right side of tipsy, this however quickly changed. You kept up with your friends, drinking drink for drink, and this was not good for either of you. It had hardly turned 1am as you were both jumping around the dance floor in each other's arms.
“I love you so much Y/N,” Lily slurs into your ear.
“I love you too,” you beam back at her.
A laugh escapes you as Lily takes you in her arms and spins you around. Then a hand is placed on your shoulder stopping the spinning and you look to see who it was.
“Eddie,” you continue to smile as you replace Lily with Eddie, squeezing him in your arms slightly. He had said that he was out with friends and that he would turn up at some point to join you, and then be around to take Lily home, so his appearance wasn’t too much of a shock.
“Hey, he’s mine,” you hear a voice behind you before you are almost ripped from the man, Lily taking your place.
“Hey, hey,” Eddie laughs. “There’s enough of me to go around,” he jokes.
Lily leans up to give him a kiss on the lips, Eddie allowing it until she tries to deepen it, when he pulls away.
“You seem happy to see me,” Eddie looks over to you with an apologetic smile. Lily almost seems to go limp in Eddies arms and he struggles to hold her. Rushing over you help him lift her up, looking up at him a bit concerned at the sudden change in her state. You thought that the two of you were on the same level, but you were obviously handling your drink a lot better than she was. While she seemed to be past drunk, you were on the perfect level still coherent to remember everything but drunk enough to not care about anything.
“Let’s go get some air?” Eddie suggests, already starting to drag Lily and therefore you outside.
“I’ll get some water,” you suggest. “I’ll see you outside.”
Rushing over to the bar, you ask for three glass of water and when they’re handed over you head outside to look for your friends. What you see is not pretty. Lily is hunched in a corner, Eddie stood over her with his hand on her back. You feel like you sober up slightly at the sight.
“Here, drink some of this,” you hand Eddie one of the cups to try and he tries get Lily to drink some. “God I’m so sorry, I should have got her to slow down,” you say.
“It’s alright, she’s alright. It’s no one's fault,” Eddie is now having to reassure you and Lily. “You just had a bit too much to drink didn’t you love,” Eddie continues to stroke Lilys back.
You down some of the water that you had got for yourself, your brain spinning at bit due to the alcohol.
“I think we should head home,” Eddie looks up at you.
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.  
“No, we’ll be OK, you stay and have fun,” he replies.
You nod at him, but now feel distinctively not in the mood to party. Lily was the main reason that you had come tonight anyway and as she was heading home you saw no need to stay.
“Home sounds good actually, I think I might do the same,” you say to Eddie.  
“Alright, come on, I’ll call you a cab,” Eddie hauls Lily into his arms and helps you both over to the street to go home.
With Eddie calling you a cab it takes no time for you to get to the entrance of your building. You stumble slightly towards the door, and nearly fall on your face as you go to open the door but it opens before you get there. A hand comes out to help you before you fall though.
“Oh, hi Keith,” you smile at the doorman.
“Hi, Y/N,” he smiles down at you, his hand still helping to support you. “Good night?”
“It was great thanks. I just had a few drinks,” you say though you know you both know that is an understatement.
“I’m glad you had a good time,” Keith says as you both make your way over to the elevator, you still clinging to his arm for support. He calls for the elevator and you stand and wait, your head resting on his upper arm as you close your eyes and give a content hum. Over the time that you had been living in the flat you had grown to love Keith. He always seemed to be there and had helped you out many a sticky situation. Whenever you had time you would stop and talk to him about your day, and you had learnt so much about him in the process. But you know when you sober up and think back to this current moment part of you will die of embarrassment.
“I hope you have had a nice night too,” you pout up at him, always saying that he worked too hard.
“It’s been made ten times better now that I have seen you,” he jokes and you laugh at him.
“Always making me blush,” you say as the elevator arrives and you walk into it. “Hopefully see you soon,” you point a finger at him and smile.
He laughs at your drunken state and nods his head. “I’m always here,” he says as the doors close on him.
You have to take a breath to steady yourself as the elevator rises. Fishing in your bag you go on the hunt for your keys as the doors open. You decide to take one of the seats to stop yourself from wobbling around, helping you find your keys quicker. Once you have them you stand up and move towards the door. A hand on the door frame you jab the key at the key hole, missing a few times before you finally get it in the lock and open the door.  
Stumbling into the house you close the door and wince at how loud you were being, only now conscious of the fact you probably weren’t home alone and it was very late. You haphazardly kick off your shoes, and wince again when they make a loud noise when hitting the wall. In your drunken state you continue to the kitchen and stumble around in search of a glass, filling it up with water when you finally locate it.
“Y/N?” A familiar deep voice sounds out and it is only then that you hear other voices in the flat.
“Hello?” You say, cringing slightly at the state you were in when Hoseok obviously had friends around.
“Y/N? Come join us in here,” Hoseok shouts again in the direction of the living room.
You take a few deep breaths as you slowly head to the living room, water in hand. Internally trying to sober up, yet your mind still fuzzy, and your walk a bit wobbly.
When you get to the door you look around the room, leaning against the frame for support. Hoseok was sat on the sofa facing the door and therefore you, a smile on his face. Around him are four other people. One man with blonde hair, and a wide smile like Hoseok, another man with longer brown hair and a boxy smile, a third man that only had a small smile that showed no teeth, and a woman who had long brown hair that nearly reached her hips. Your eyes whip around the people in the room, all their eyes on you, the room silent.
“Hi,” you give a small awkward wave at everyone with the hand holding the water, which sploshes around, some escaping the glass and you give an audible “woops” as you watch it.
“Hey. Sorry I would have told you about this but it was a very last-minute thing so I didn’t have a chance to leave you a note,” Hoseok explains. “I did knock on your door to invite you, but you were obviously out. Been anywhere nice?”
“No worries. I’ve just out with friends, sorry I didn’t leave you a note” you point over your shoulder as if to clarify where you had been, and the boy with blonde hair lets out a small giggle as more water leaves your glass. “I’ll clean that up,” you say stupidly as it’s just water, and Hoseok gives you a fond smile.  
“You guys leave each other notes?” The blonde-haired boy continues to smile as he looks at Hoseok.
“Well, yeah,” he says awkwardly, looking over at you shyly, and you can only join the boy in laughing, realising how stupid it sounded.  
“He’s never given me his number,” you shrug a massive smile on your face. The alcohol causing you to say things you would never normally say.  
“So you leave each other notes?” The boy's eyes are now back on you as he continues his questioning.
“I guess it’s the only way I can talk to him,” you say, eyes going to Hoseok, a red tint coming to his face. “I just say the normal things, good morning, how you doing? What you up to? And then I get a reply 10 hours later, it’s like living in the 19th century,” you laugh at yourself, the blonde man joining you, unsure what the hell you were babbling on about.
“Maybe one of you should have just written your number on one of the notes. Then you would have caught up to the 21st century,” the boy that previously only had a toothless smile was now looking at you with amusement, a small gummy smile on display.
You hum in response. Honestly you had considered it, but you were too scared of the rejection. Hoseok had never provided you with his number and you thought maybe there was a reason behind it. You had left the ball in his court, though you were unsure if he knew that.
“I should maybe introduce you guys,” Hoseok speaks up, trying to move the conversation on. “This is Yoongi,” he points to the guy with the gummy smile, “Jimin,” the blonde-haired man, “Taehyung,” the boy with the boxy smile, “and Liv,” he points to the girl. “And this is my flatmate Y/N,” he introduces you and you do another embarrassing wave.
“We’ve heard so much about you,” Jimin smiles at you and your face heats up at the words.
“Have you?” You say, not believing him.
“Oh yeah lots. Only good things don’t worry,” he reassures you, though it doesn’t do any good, your mind thinking about all the things that Hoseok could have said about you.
You nod your head slowly at him, still unsure if he is messing with you. “I hope he didn’t tell you about how awful I looked when I was ill,” you say suddenly remembering.
“He mentioned it, though I don’t recall him describing you as looking awful,” Taehyung smirks.
“Did you want to join us?” Hoseok cuts in, and when you look at him you can see that his face has turned a slightly darker shade of pink.
“It’s alright, I was just going to head to bed,” you point to your room this time, making it clear where you meant, Jimin giggling at your action again.
“We have alcohol,” Yoongi mimics you by pointing at the bottles set on the table.
“I seriously don’t think I need any more,” you say. “Water should be enough,” you hold up the glass which causes more liquid to fall out.
“Just stay for one. Looks like your waters going to need a refill soon anyway,” Jimin jokes. “I promise we are nice. We want to meet Hoseoks flatmate that he won’t stop talking about.”
You look over to Hoseok to gauge his reaction, you didn’t want to intrude on his mini gathering. He gives you a small nod, letting you know he is ok with it.
“Ok,” you give in, finally moving away from the door you were propped against. “But I seriously do not need any more alcohol. God knows what I’ll start rambling on about then.”
“Just one,” Jimin says as he starts to pour out a concoction of different liquids. “I want to hear your rambles.”
You make it over to the sofa and almost fall down onto it, sat at the far end closest to Jimin. Downing the remainder of your water you place the now empty glass on the table before taking the glass Jimin hands you.
“To new friends,” he laughs as he raises his own glass so that he can cheers you.
You pout slightly as you take the smallest sip of your drink, even that feeling too much.
“So what do you do Y/N?” Liv asks you before you have even taken the glass away from your lips.
“I work in marketing,” you say, a small smile on your lips as you look at her. “Sounds boring I know,” you laugh at yourself. 
“No, marketing's cool. What company do you work for?” She reassures you.  
“I work in digital marketing at a relatively small company. I basically help work on their apps, making them better and more accessible for the customer,” you say and can almost see everyone's eyes glaze over in boredom. “It’s not the best job in the world, but I enjoy it,” you say feeling slightly insecure. Hoseok was in a career that made him a lot of money and he was probably friends with people who also did the same. You are suddenly very aware that you are probably in a room full of people that made more in a week then you do in a year.
“I think it sounds great,” Jimin jumps in. “I love apps.”
You laugh at his attempts to reassure you, thankful for his kindness. “What do you guys do then?” You say it lightly as it seems like the next natural question but you instantly regret it, all eyes in the room shooting to Hoseok who looks worried, and the atmosphere in the room shifts slightly.
“I’m a PR,” Liv speaks up and you are glad that she breaks the tension in the room. “Of sorts anyway. I basically just manage people schedules and what they need to be doing.”
You nod at her words, actually interested in what she was saying. “I’m not sure I would be organised enough for that,” you say.
“But come on, we want to know more about you. How come you’re living here with Hobi?” Liv steers the conversation away from jobs and though you are glad the tension in the room is slowly disappearing, it does not help your curiosity when thinking about what Hoseok does for a living.
“I needed a room, he was providing one,” you shrug, deciding not to go into detail, taking a sip of your drink to avoid talking.  
“And are you enjoying it here?” Liv presses.  
“Yeah, it’s really nice,” you give a smile, taking another sip of your drink. “The décor wasn’t the best, but now I’ve improved it, it’s great.”  
A laugh ripples through the room and that combined with the alcohol gives you some fake confidence.  
“What’s it like living with Hobi? Has his OCD cleaning annoyed you yet?” Taehyung asks.  
“No, it’s late-night snacking that would annoy me,” Yoongi chimes in.  
“Come on guys, it’s surely his singing. I’ve heard him in the shower multiple times and I think my ears are permanently scarred,” Jimin laughs.  
“No, no, what about all his clothes. Has he asked to take over some of your closet space yet?” Taehyung starts to laugh just as hard as Jimin, and you can’t help but let out a small giggle.  
“Go on then, what’s the most annoying thing?” Yoongi asks and all eyes go to you. Under the pressure of the eyes your face starts to heat up, your previous confidence dissipating into the air.  
“We all know it’s my obsession for tea. I go through the stuff so quickly Y/N is probably having to buy the stuff daily,” Hoseok saves you and you give him a small smile to show how much you appreciate it. “Anyway, let’s stop harassing Y/N, she’ll never want to join you guys for a drink again if this is how you treat her.”  
“No, I’m fun,” Jimin pouts at you. “She’ll want to hang out with me again,” he says and you giggle at his words. “Yoongi is the boring one here.”
“Hey. I’m not the one harassing her with questions,” Yoongi shoots back at Jimin.  
“Well at least I’m welcoming and not sat in the corner looking all grumpy,” Jimin continues and you can tell that it is just the way their relationship goes by the smiles on both of their faces.  
“I was the one that offered her alcohol,” Yoongi says.  
“Neither of you are fun,” Hoseok jumps in. “Let’s just play a game.”  
“A game sounds good,” Taehyung agrees, standing up to go and get something, coming back a few seconds later with a pack of cards in his hands.
You end up playing a game that you had never played before, yet somehow ended up winning the two games you played.  
“You know the winner has to drink, right?” Jimin looks at you.  
“That wasn’t a rule last time I won,” you say.  
“That was a practice,” he defends.  
“Why does the winner have to drink?” You look around the table in the hopes someone would back you up, finding no one was going to. You give a small huff and cross your arms in annoyance. “I would have at least tried to not be as good if I had known. Though it would have been hard to not have one you are all so rubbish,” you say with a small smile as they all start shouting out at your insult.
“That definitely deserves a drink now,” Taehyung chimes in, and you give him a small glare.
“Come on, as the newest member of the group you should drink,” Hoseok adds and you open your mouth in mock shock at him.
“If anyone was going to have my back, I was hoping it would be my lovely flatmate,” you say and you see a few eyes flick between you as internally cringe at the fact you had called him lovely. “Maybe you’re not so lovely after all,” you say unsure if you were making the situation any better.
Deciding to end your embarrassment you pick up your glass and down its contents, face scrunching up when it was all gone.
“Now that’s honestly enough, I don’t want a throwing up Y/N on my hands tomorrow,” Hoseok says. “I’ve already had to look after her once,” he gives you a smile and you look away in embarrassment at the memory.
The night turns to talking. They continue to ask you the occasional question but talk turns to topics and people that you don’t know. While they try to include you at the start, all the alcohol you had drunk starts to make you go sleepy and you end up passing out on the sofa to the sounds of their voices. 
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Head pounding, throat dry, a slight queasy feeling in your stomach, it felt like you were ill all over again, but this time it was self-inflicted. It takes you a moment to get your bearings, to realise where you were and what had happened. The last thing you remember is being on the sofa, everyone talking while you struggle to keep your eyes open. But this morning you find yourself tucked in your bed wearing just your underwear and t-shirt.  
Slightly embarrassed about not knowing what occurred last night, you roll over in search of your phone, finding it on your bedside table. 7:10am. You groan, cursing the fact that you naturally wake up so early due to work.  
After failing to get back to sleep, you decide you may as well get up and have some water and see if you can stomach any food. Rolling out of bed you change into your actual pyjamas and head to the kitchen. Downing a pint of water, you pour a second glass and sip on it while you make some toast. Taking a bite out of you, you walk to the living room planning on watching a film. You almost chock on your toast however when you see a figure on the sofa. Having assumed you were home alone, or at least the only one awake at this time, you are surprised to see Jimin tucked under a blanket.  
Though he is fast asleep your face instantly heats up with embarrassment. You stand awkwardly in the door, not knowing whether you should turn on the spot and head back to your room, or go in and watch a film as planned and risk waking the man. You opt for the third option. Turning on the spot you head instead to the snug.  
Settling into your favourite seat, looking out at the barely lit city below you, you continue to chomp on your toast. Placing the empty plate that once held on the coffee table, something catches your eye. Standing up you take a step so you are stood by the wall of books and knick-knacks. But placed on one of the shelves, right in the corner, is a picture.  
Picking it up you pull it closer to your face so you can study it. A family, a man and a woman with a young girl and boy stood in front of them. They all have big smiles on their faces, looking like they are mid laugh. The little boy was unmistakably your flatmate Hoseok. Though he was probably 15 years younger in the photo, he still had the same eyes, the same hair, the same smile.  
“My parents and my sister,” a voice says from behind you and you almost drop the frame.
Spinning round you see the man you had just been staring at in the photo. Hair fluffy and sticking up at odd angles, he obviously hadn’t brushed it, in a pair of long plaid pyjamas, and a pair of animal slippers on his feet. He had obviously just rolled out of bed.  
“I’m so sorry,” you apologise, placing the photo back where you had found it.  
“You don’t need to apologise,” he smiles at you. “It’s your flat too.”
“I don’t usually snoop around your stuff,” you continue to apologise even though he’s already told you that you don’t need to. “I had just never noticed this before and wanted to have a closer look.”
“I told you, it’s fine,” he chuckles slightly at your rambles. Moving closer so he stands next to you he picks up the photo you had just put down. “I decided a few more personal touches might be nice around the flat. You must be rubbing off on me,” he looks over at you and you shy under his gaze, eyes going to the photo in his hands. “My parents,” he points at the two older people in the photo. “And my sister,” he points at the young girl.  
“Very cute,” you say.  
“We were on a day out and my dad asked someone to take this photo. It’s one of my favourites.”
You look at him as he stares down at the photo and can see the almost longing in his eyes. You can tell how happy he is just staring at the photo in his hands. Almost snapping out of a daze, he visibly shakes his head before placing the picture back in its spot.  
“A simpler time,” he says with a pang of sadness in his voice.  
“Things always become more complicated when we get older,” you say. “Which reminds me. What happened last night?”  
He chuckles at your words and you are glad to see the smile return to his face.  
“You had obviously just had a bit too much to drink. I’d blame Jimin’s drink making if I was you,” he says.  
“God, how embarrassing,” you shove a hand over your face in an attempt to hide, unsure what you had done.  
“Nothing embarrassing. You just passed out on the sofa, don’t worry,” Hoseok continues to smile at you.  
“Thats embarrassing,” you say, peaking through your fingers to look at him. “And how the hell did I get into my bed?” You panic slightly.  
“Well, we tried to wake you,” Hoseok’s face goes slightly red at the words. “But you were completely knocked out. So I carried you to your bed.”  
“Oh god,” you groan. “And my clothes?” You almost don’t want to ask but also need to know the answer.  
“That was all Liv,” Hoseok is quick to defend himself, hands in the air in mock surrender.  
“Jesus, I’m a mess. I’m so sorry, your friends are probably wondering why the hell you have me living in your flat.” Dismissing his clear embarrassment over how you ended up in your bed in just a t-shirt and your pants, for your own embarrassment.  
“Forget about it. Let’s just go have some food and watch something,” he doesn’t wait for your answer before leaving the room, you trailing behind him.  
“I think Jimins asleep in there,” you say sheepishly before Hoseok walks into the living room.  
“He’ll be alright,” he shrugs at you before walking in.  
You follow him in, noticing Jimin still sleeping on the sofa, seemingly not bothered by Hoseok clattering around. Being a bit quieter, you sit down on the sofa, legs out in front of you as Hoseok turns the TV on.  
“What we watching?” He asks.  
“I don’t mind.”
“Letting me choose may not be wise,” he warns and you just smile at him, letting him know you honestly don’t care. “The notebook it is,” he says and you can’t help but laugh.  
It takes about 20 minutes of the film to play before Jimin finally wakes up. You and Hoseok had been relatively silent before he woke up, but Jimin is quick to change that. Sitting up you both watch him as he squints around the room in confusion.  
“Looks like you had fun last night,” Hoseok laughs at Jimin with his blonde hair ruffled all over his head, his undercut on show.  
Rubbing a hand over his face, his eyes squint as he continues to look confused. You give him a small smile when he meets your eye contact, before looking away, wanting to give him some sort of privacy haven just woken up.
“Have you guys eaten yet?” Are the first husky words that leave Jimins mouth, and you can’t help but laugh along with Hoseok.  
“Fancy ordering something?” Hoseok asks and as you look around to him you see Jimin giving a silent nod, hand on his forehead.
“Do you want me to get you some water?” You ask Jimin a bit concerned. Nodding he hardly looks at you. “And I still owe you for the food you got me last time,” you say to Hoseok as you get up to get some water for Hoseok.  
“And I told you not to worry about it,” Hoseok calls after you as you walk out the room.  
Reappearing a few seconds later, hands now full with a cup of water and some paracetamol, Hoseok and Jimin are already talking food.  
“Will you at least let me pay for this one,” you plead, handing Jimin the things in your hands getting a small thanks in reply.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Hoseok barely looks at you as he scrolls through food options on his phone. “What about Moose cafe, they do good pancakes?” Hoseok doesn’t even look at you as he aims the question at Jimin.  
“Jimin, tell me what you want, I’m buying it,” you say stubbornly, whipping your phone out.  
“No, I have it,” Hoseok shoots you a glare.  
“Jimin, I just got you that water, the least you can do is let me buy the food,” you say.  
“Jimin, you’re in my house as a guest the least I can do is buy you food,” Hoseok replies.  
“I pay rent to live here, so I could also use that as an excuse,” you roll your eyes at Hoseok. “You are the one that keeps telling me to treat this place like it’s mine,” you raise your eyebrows at him. “Please just let me pay,” you plea.  
“For God's sake,” Jimin finally speaks. “Will you guys just shut up? Listen, he is not going to let you pay, and neither am I.”
“Why have you got to be so nice? I owe you money, why won’t you let me pay it,” you whine slightly. You felt like Hoseok was already doing you a favour by letting you live here so cheaply, you didn’t want him doing you any more favours on top of that. It may not be much money for him, but for you it was, if it was any other friend you would have paid them and they wouldn’t have refused.
“Don’t worry about it, love,” Hoseok repeats, a small smile returning to his face as he realises he may have won. “So, what’s everyone having?”  
“I’ll have the pancakes with bacon,” Jimin says.  
“Y/N?” Hoseok looks at you.  
“I don’t want anything thanks,” you reply.
“Don’t be like that,” the smile falls off Hoseoks face at your stubbornness.  
“I have food in the fridge I need to eat,” you shrug lightly.
“Just add some extra pancakes in for her,” Jimin pipes up and you shoot him a glare.  
“I won’t eat them,” you say.  
“They’ll just go in the bin then,” Jimin says.  
“I can afford to buy my own pancakes,” you slouch into the sofa, letting them know what was getting to you.  
“We don’t doubt that you can’t,” Hoseok voice is softer, realisation hitting him. “It’s just pancakes. Don’t over think it.”  
You don’t reply to him, feeling like you were making the situation more than it needed to be, after all it was just pancakes. But your money insecurities were slightly getting to you. And he takes your silence as compliance to order the food, letting you and Jimin know that the food was on the way.  
“Last night was fun,” Jimin attempts to cut the slight tension that has arisen in the room.  
“Yeah, thanks for letting me crash,” you say. “Your friends are really lovely.”  
“Was nice to have you join, everyone really liked you,” Hoseok says.  
“Even though I passed out?” You cringe at the thought.  
“Especially because you passed out,” Jimin laughs. “Now it’s not just me that’s done it in the group.”
“Great, not sure that’s the best reputation to hold,” you say. “I’m guessing you have the day off work?” You ask Hoseok, noting the fact he was still in the flat when he would normally be gone.  
“Oh yeah, we have a few days off,” he says.  
“You two work together?” You are still intrigued to what your flatmate does, but are also conscious that whenever the topic arises the atmosphere shifts.  
“Unfortunately,” is the only reply you get, essentially cutting the conversation short, and increasing your intrigue on the subject.  
“Have you got any plans with your time off?” You ask.  
“I’m planning on just hanging around the flat, so sorry but you’ll have to put up with me for a few more days,” Hoseok replies. “Maybe Jimin and some of my other friends will come round one night?” Hoseok directs the question to Jimin. “If that’s ok with you, of course,” his head shots in your direction, almost as if he forgot you live here.
“It’s your flat, invite whoever you want,” you say.  
“But you know you can invite whoever you want here too?” Hoseok says.  
“Of course,” you say, though your voice doesn’t sound as sure as your words.  
“Well if Y/N is here, I will be coming round all the time,” Jimin winks at you and you give a hearty laugh in response.  
“Jesus, is there anyone you don’t flirt with?” Hoseok rolls his eyes, and you continue to laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed by the comment.  
Saved by the doorbell, you almost leap up when you offer to go and get the food. Leaving the room, it doesn’t take you long to get the food and plate it up, carrying it all back on a tray you stop outside the door when you hear your name mentioned.
“You haven’t told her?” You hear Jimin ask.  
“How does it really ever come up into conversation? It’s not something you just casually say,” Hoseok says.  
“I’m still on team tell Y/N. And now I have met her, I am even more pro,” Jimin says.  
“I will, I just need the right time,” Hoseok says.  
“And like you said, there is no perfect time. The longer you wait, the weirder it will be,” Jimin says.  
You have no idea what they are talking about. What could Hoseok possibly be keeping from you that Jimin thinks he should be saying? And why does Hoseok think there needs to be some perfect timing for him to tell you?  
Realising you had been stood eves dropping for a second or two too long, you decide to walk into the room, pretending you heard nothing. The two of them seemed oblivious to the fact that you may have heard them, and you keep it that way. Eating your pancakes and chatting with them you enjoy your day off with your flatmate for once.  
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pterodactylterrace · 3 years
Text
Title: Guys Like You
Chapter Summary: What if everything wasn’t as it seemed?
Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC 
Rating: Overall 18+ for later chapters
Warning: Implied alcohol/substance abuse (nothing too graphic)
Prologue
Have you ever been in the advanced stages of exhaustion? Where the fatigue just settles into your bones and makes even the simplest of tasks seem impossible? After being up for the last twenty something hours straight, Faye was sure she would never feel rested again.  Dragging herself into the makeup trailer was a herculean feat in and of itself, let alone actually having to do something.
She was all too relieved to set her bag down and half stumble her way to the janky coffee maker in the corner. Her only hope was that it was in a working mood today and would give her more than half a cup of the promised nectar. Then, her next trick was going to be avoiding looking at the mirror she had to work in front of all day in a feeble attempt at pretending she didn't look like a zombie.
"Bad night's sleep?" One of the other makeup artists asked, raising a brow in her direction.
"Who said I slept?" Faye grouched, drinking as much of the scalding liquid as she could in one go.
"I'm telling you, you need to stop partying so much."
"Well, you know me. Gotta be wild while I'm still young."
"Wild night?"  Henry cut in, dropping his large frame into the chair. When did he get in there? She must be really tired to have missed the giant in the room.
"You know it." Faye yawned, setting her cup down to dig through her bag. Stuff. She needed to get the stuff to... do the thing with the stuff? Yeah, do the thing with the stuff, like she was paid to do.
"Mind filling us in?" The other artist pressed, seemingly oblivious to Faye's current state of confusion at the bag in front of her.
"Oh, you know.  Lots of screaming, wrangling and vomiting."  Faye mumbled, trying to force her mind to focus on the task at hand and push the previous night's events from her head. To say it had been a doozy was an understatement. She just hoped she didn't have another night like that for a while.
"Certainly sounds wild." Henry chuckled, thinking back to his younger partying days. Sure, he would still go out and have some fun, but he had definitely slowed down as he aged. The hangovers and recovery were getting rougher and rougher with every passing year.
"It was supposed to be my day off, but the other main artist called in sick today." Faye explained, hoping to salvage any last shreds of professionalism she may have remaining.
"Well, let that be a lesson to you. No wild nights while you're on call." The other artist remarked, turning her attention back to her work, missing the childish way Faye stuck her tongue out at her along with Henry's barely stifled snicker.
"Ok, Mr... Face, we're going to do your Cavill."
"Come again?" Henry asked cautiously.
"You asked me not to call you Mr. Cavill, so I tried to stop myself and save it but I just made it worse." Faye groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.  She playfully tapped the handle of her makeup brush against his temple when his shoulders began shaking with more poorly suppressed laughter.
"Ah, so abusive." Henry playfully complained, rubbing the spot her brush had bumped against.
"You started it. Hurt my feeling."
"Feeling?"
"Yup, just the one." Faye half laughed, shaking her head to try and clear her mind before she actually had to put in effort on a finished product.
She had done this a few times already; she was fairly certain Henry actually had asked to have her work on him more often. At least that was the only explanation she could come up with for the back up artist getting to work on the star when they were fully staffed. It was just a routine she had to go through now before going home and getting some rest. With any luck muscle memory would take over and give her exhausted mind a break as she worked.
In the end, she ended up doing decently in her own opinion. She had in fact gotten the faded scars properly placed, along with the required stage make up so the camera's could pick up his ridiculously handsome features correctly. They did agree, however that it would be best for Henry to put his own contacts this time. Thankfully he didn't like other people getting that near his eyes anyway, so at least no one could say she was slacking on the job.
There. Work day, done. Mission accomplished. She was finally free to go back home for some much needed rest. Just one exhausted drive left.
"Hey, Mrs. Anderson." Faye greeted as she quietly slipped in through the front door of her tiny home. "How is she?"
"She's feeling better, dear." The kind old lady assured, smoothing the hair away from the sleeping child's face. "Her fever broke not long after you left, and she's kept some soup as well as a few ice lollies down."
"Thank you so much for staying with her." Faye praised sincerely, kneeling down in front of the couch where her daughter lay curled up with her favorite blanket, her chubby fist clutching a doll as she snoozed. "You gave Mommy a scare last night, sweetheart." Faye whispered, not wanting to wake her.
"Children get sick, love. I know it's frightening, but it's nothing to worry yourself to death over." Mrs. Anderson pointed out, patting the young woman on the back.
"I know, but... I still worry."
"You're a mother, dear.  A mother who was brave enough to move away from everything she knew to pursue her dreams and a better life for her daughter.  That can't be easy."
"I knew it wouldn't be easy.  I just didn't realize it would be this hard." Faye sighed, turning her attention back to the sleeping child as she began to stir.
"Mommy, you're back!" She yawned, sitting herself up and rubbing her eye sleepily, holding her arms up for a hug.
"Yeah, Mommy came back early to make sure you were ok." Faye explained, sitting on the couch next to her and pulling the child into her lap.
"Can I have another possikle?" The sleepy child asked hopefully.
"Well I have it on good authority you've already had a few." Faye started, looking down at the girl in her lap, melting into her sweet face as she smiled up at her. "Alright, but just today.  Don't get used to it."
"Yay! Possikle! Possikle!" The girl cheered, squirming from her mother's lap to scurry off to the kitchen. She certainly seemed to be feeling better now.
Hopefully she didn't end up on a sugar high and keep her mother awake for another night. Faye wasn't sure how many more sleepless nights in a row she could endure.
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thegoldielocks28 · 3 years
Note
“SO… you think I’m hot?” - Mathilda and Sergei~
Title: “you think I'm hot” Pairing: Mathilda Alster and Sergei Petrov/Spencer Petrov AN: Written for a writing challenge, for Syfien. Nothing more than a soft moment for the cute couple ~ Hopefully it makes sense ;D
The sun is bright against the almost cloudless sky on this hot summer's day. The humidity makes the heat feel hotter than it actually is, and most people out and about carry either electrical hand-fans or more traditional paddle-fans while crowding the soft drink vending machines that conveniently seem to be just about everywhere.
Japan´s summers are something else.
Mathilda has always been a spring and summer person, enjoying how good weather allows her to dress in some of her favorite clothes more comfortably. Shorts, skirts, blouses and cute tops. Even dresses at times. Today, she's even wearing a big hat, shielding her face from the direct sun. Her pale cheeks are decorated with light freckles, dots that in her case only appear in summer. The summer back home in the UK is a lot milder than those here in Asia, but she can't say she misses the wind or common and heavy rain that much.
Mathilda`s plans are a bit different today. Hence her being slightly dressed up. After several nights of little sleep, and several days when she lost her words upon just seeing him, she managed to ask her crush if he wanted to spend some time together. Just her and him.
They already have, several times, met up by coincidence in the hotel-like apartment building rented for them during a long season of blading. For example while making tea in the shared kitchen. Making small meals. Sitting on the sofa, reading. Watching the matches on TV after they happened. Together with their fellow bladers, teams and friends.
Lately, … ending up staying in the joined area late until they were almost alone, or the only ones left.
Mathilda´s freckled cheeks turn a shade pink upon thinking of her date. Looking at her wristwatch she realizes she´s early, like she always is when nervous. Being late would leave a bad impression now, wouldn't it? The pink haired woman spends about 10 minutes gazing at people, meeting the eyes of polite fans a few times. Apparently, she's quite popular in Japan.
There he is.
Sergei.
Mathilda shifts so she´s facing him. Pale, tall and handsome. Dirty blond short hair. Strong nose and jaw. The heat seems to have made the Russian have to drop the vest he is always wearing, and today he has just a pair of cargo pants, a nicely fit black t-shirt and boots. Revealing his strong chest, and arms. The man is still fully clothed but the sight of him has her skin turn hot. Many seem to assume the tallest member of the Russian team looks least good, but… Mathilda´s eyes has never strayed, even if her attraction to him also didn't start with the way he looked in the first place.
“Hello.” Mathilda can't help but smile widely, then tries to calm herself down. “Hey.” Sergei answers, his voice deep and calm. Those steel grey eyes of his move over Mathilda. Just like she is used to seeing him with his vest, and hat, he is used to her own “battle gear”. Not a soft colored summer outfit, and just a little bit more effort with her hair and make up. All thanks to Julia. It's not like Mathilda doesn't care about those things, it's that she has always been someone who enjoys being without products as well. Mathilda likes being pretty, and Julia has helped her find a style that suits her well. Not as strong as Julia´s often so red and full lips.
“Let´s…” Mathilda starts, she needs to step up since she was the one to ask him out to hang out. “Start walking, the place I mentioned, is a bit further ahead.”
It's a nice summer's day. Birds chirp. Breeze is lovely. Mathilda is so happy she gets to spend today with her crush. Happy to realize they have actually gotten that far from being strangers, to having plans together like this. For a long while she had thought she wouldn't be able to pull it off but as always she didn't let her shyness stop her from at least trying. And there by her side is Sergei. The gentle giant.
The ones who are less happy about their growing friendship are people she could worry about later.
However, things change drastically just over a few minutes. Mathilda notices mid-sentence that something is wrong. Eyes darting up at the much taller man by her side only to get that gut feeling affirmed. Sergei has a queasy look on his face, and his forehead seems damp of sweat. He's squinting against the strong rays of the sun.
“Are you ok?” She tilts her head, looking up at him.
Sergei avoids looking at her. “Hm.” He makes a sound through lips pressed together. “You look… paler than normal.” Mathilda continues. “My body feels… heavy.” Sergei grumbles. “My head… “
“Did you get something to drink before this..?” Sergei looks at her. “No.”
Mathilda´s expression turns more concerned. Especially when guilt washes over her. She had asked Sergei to hang out with her outside in this hot weather that's so unlike what he's used to. Not considerate at all. All she had done was walk ahead chatting because of her nerves, while Sergei had been feeling ill.
If Sergei fainted here, or fainted anywhere, Mathilda would not be able to catch and support him properly because of his size. The man would hit the concrete ground and get hurt no matter if she just stood there, or had him fall over her as she tried to hold him. The mental image of the Russian falling backwards and hitting his head makes Mathilda´s throat go dry. Skull cracked open. Blood. Mathilda forces herself to stop thinking about that.
She extends her hand, and even if holding hands with him would normally make her a nervous mess, she takes his bigger one in hers and tugs at it.
“There's a bench over there..”
Sergei looks at her in silence for a long moment, as if it takes longer for him to register what she is saying in this heat, before he shifts his body and allows her to pull him along. Slow steps. A low, drawn out sound leaves Sergei´s lips as he lowers himself down on the bench. In the shade, it's still hot, but a clear difference from before. Mathilda´s eyes rest on his face for one long moment before she turns away.
“I´ll be back soon, promise.”
Mathilda jogs over to the vending machine closest to them, across the street, and digs in her pockets for some Japanese yen coins. Luckily, she has enough for drinks and after a bit of struggle to understand which drinks are cold and which are hot she manages to buy cans of cold bubble water. Both for Sergei. The moment she returns to Sergei´s side she hands him one of the bottles.
Sergei accepts the bottle, unscrews it and drinks almost greedily. Water running down the side of his mouth, down his jaw and onto that black t-shirt. Mathilda sits down by his side while trying to not seem too worried, even if her emotions are easy to read on her face. Sitting is better than her walking about.
After a moment of slow silence Sergei speaks up. “I am sorry, Mathilda.” His voice is tired. “I think I won't make it to the shop in this heat.”
Mathilda can hear in his voice that he had thought about what to say for a while. Nodding her head, she agrees, she understands. “Let's rest a bit then I will walk you back.” She says, wanting to know Sergei will be alright. After a moment of silence the girl nudges Sergei at his side before she gestures to her lap.
“What..?”
Mathilda´s cheeks turn pink. “One time offer… you know?”
Sergei´s eyes soften ever so slightly as he understands just what she is offering him. The gesture seems to make him feel a bit self-conscious, but not out of dislike. Perhaps because this is a first.
“...I am sweaty.” He says, voice low, as if it is the last negative point he can find.
“I don't mind.” Mathilda says patiently with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
Even if her heart is beating really loudly in her chest she knows this isn't something to get excited for. Sergei feels sick, and needs to rest. If she can offer him some calm and comfort she´d be happy to.
Awkwardly, Sergei lowers his body onto the bench. His head soon rests in Mathilda´s lap. It's obvious this makes the man self-conscious, but after a few moments pass, he exhales deeply and his body grows heavier against her as he relaxes.
Could he have been worried about putting his weight on her?
Up this close, Mathilda notices just how grey his blue eyes really are. Almost silver, steel. His hair is on the border of being brown, dark dirty blonde. A strong jaw, big defined nose and thin pale lips. Those eyes close, as if the moment got too intimate, and Mathilda lets out a soft huff of a giggle.
He even has long eyelashes.
Mathilda is unaware of the slight wetness moving down the side of her face as they sit together so closely. She's getting a bit sweaty as well.
“You're hot.” His words are low, deep.
The way Sergei´s voice breaks the silence has her flinch, just a little bit. Mathilda feels a hot wave of emotion wash over her as she realizes what he just told her. Sergei´s cold, steel gray eyes, looks a bit confused at Mathilda´s reaction. Meeting his eyes, she realizes he wasn't trying to hit on her.
Maybe he had meant to say “warm.”
Mathilda blinks, luckily not feeling too bad about the mistake, and decides to lighten the mood. “So… I am hot..?” She chuckles quietly, reaching for the second bottle of water to help herself to some. Being a native speaker of English, she can understand how some would mistake words like that, having a second meaning appear out of mistake. The way Sergei looks at her was out of concern, not out of something else. “Hot” and “warm” can mean similar things, yet have different meanings in different situations.
“I mean…” Sergei must have realized his mistake. “You look… very warm too.”
At that, Mathilda can't help but let her smile grow wider and warmer as she looks down at the man resting in her lap. Her painted nails softly move into his short hair as she strokes him. Trying her best to make him relax, and feel better. How lovely it´d be if… they could do this in different circumstances. Resting together. Mathilda´s smile fades a little, and her lips turn playful.
“...I'd be ok with you thinking I'm hot.”
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stages-of-mania · 3 years
Text
Lord Huron Timeline Masterpost
Disclaimer: A lot of this information is speculation and consists of a lot of theories. Feel free to take things with a grain of salt.
Lonesome Dreams: 
Setting: 19th century Wild West (some theories suggested could be the Middle East in the mid-20th century) 
Characters:
Huron (main character)
Blaquefut (Huron’s best friend)
Helena (Huron’s girlfriend)
nameless Helena’s Ex (we're gonna call him Sonny for convenience)
Story: (I’m sure that most of the songs are in chronological order from the album but a few of them I believe are flashbacks so I had to move them around.)
She lit a fire/one of the best love songs ever written: The story goes earlier in the timeline technically, as it’s flashing back to how Huron met Helena. This is how the pair met. She lit his fire to travel the world or something.
Ends of the earth: early on in Huron and Helena‘s relationship. He wants to travel the world but she doesn’t so they’re kinda like “let’s split up for a bit”
Setting sun/the most mindfucking song (yes this bonus track is played at the end of the song, but hear me out ): Sonny has noticed that Helena has found someone else. They both know that Huron is better for her, but Sonny’s still pissed so he goes full yandere and chases after Huron. This story was put at the end and made “unfinished” because Sonny will always have a vendetta while Huron’s alive.
Time to run: Huron and friends are being chased by Sonny’s goons. Blaqufut gets shot in the head while helping Huron escape.
lonesome dreams: now this is a bit of a stretch, but from this theory, LD is basically purgatory and Huron travels to it to rescue Blaqufut from death.
Ghost on the shore/best song: nothing too significant to the story, it’s just Huron talking about how he misses home/the Great Lakes
I will be back one day: again, nothing much, just Huron reminiscing over Helena in pursuit to find her.
Man who lives forever: again nothing too significant, just Huron not wanting to die.
Brother: this is possibly the aftermath of an altercation between Huron and Blaqufut that they resolve. It pretty much just reaffirms their friendship.
In the wind: this one actually occurs while Huron is still on the run but from Helena’s perspective. It’s basically her reminiscing over him. I think they put this one at the end because it’s spiritually the end of the album, as it discusses how long distances and death can stop love.
Lullaby: Huron finally makes it back to Helena. He’s a complete wreck but Helena’s just happy he’s back
Sidenotes: Lonesome dreams are a collection of stories from Jorge Ranger Johnson, a writer character that Ben made up. Because of this, some of lonesome dreams might not actually be real within the universe of Lord Huron. Or they might be real events and just happened to be written about by an author. 
Alternate theories suggest that Setting sun was actually about Huron the entire time and it did take place at the end of the album, causing Helena to find someone else and Huron to becoming a murderer. 
One last important thing, because these are stories and might not actually occur within the universe of Lord Huron, it is possible that there is no afterlife, as suggested in later albums.
Strange Trails: 
Setting:
1950s, somewhere in America.
George’s: A bar that several characters tend to spend time at (probably in reference to George Ranger Johnson)
Characters:
Frankie Lou: washed up singer who presumably had a failed romance that fucked up bad. Probably an alcoholic. Sings at George’s
Cobb Avery: zombie brought back to life out of vengeance. His family was killed because his boss gave him a piece of land on a sinkhole. leader of the “World Enders” gang. Basically a bunch of terrorists. Kills everyone from the company that sold him the house. Hangs out at George’s
Jonnie: member of the world Enders. Kind of trigger-happy in a thrill seeker. Probably one of the less malicious members of the group. Probably 19.
Buck Vernon: I also think another washed-up singer. What’s important though is that he suffers from hallucinations and is desperately trying to find the girl of his dreams.
Lily: some girl that every guy in town has the hots for. Hangs out at George’s
Jim: Lily's boyfriend. Hangs out at George’s.
Danielle: Young girl. The only child character, I’d say 11-14. Best character. You’re never too young to have an existential crisis.
Justine: not really important, presumably a writer.
Louisa: some random girl (Assuming that this theory is true, she might also be a witch and might’ve started out as an asshole, might also hang out at George’s)
There’s also some other guy but he was part of one song and it wasn’t significant so disregard him.
Story:
Love like ghosts: this is Frankie reminiscing over her failed relationship
When the night ends: Jonnie talking about appreciating the finer things in life while everything’s going to shit
Dead man’s hand/also best song: buck finds Avery presumably dead while wandering the desert. He buries him only to find out that Avery is still alive. Avery says that there’s no afterlife for him and he doesn’t want to go back in the grave. The pair become friends and go their separate ways.
Hurricane: just Johnny talking about living life on the edge
La belle fleur sauvage/the beautiful wildflower: just the lead singer gushing over Lily. The guy singing this only shows up in this song, but it’s just meant to establish that everyone has the hots for Lilly. The song could also be talking about Buck in his pursuit.
Fool for love: Buck goes to George’s to win over Lily, but Jim is already with her. Being delusional, buck tries to take on Jim (in the music video he gets Avery to fight him), he trashed the place and because of this is kicked out. He’s pretty optimistic but after this, he feels kind of defeated. (*Post-Rejection Depression Time*)
World ender: focuses on Avery‘s story. Follows him as he seeks vengeance and kills the people from the company that sold him the shitty house.
Meet me in the Woods: more of Frankie reminiscing over her failed romance
Yawning grave: (OK so this is the first big roadblock in the story, so the character that this song is about is very much left up to interpretation) I assume Avery has kind of calmed down But still intends to pursue the people that have wronged him.
Frozen Pines: (disappointingly) The only song about Danielle. Her parents were abducted by aliens in front of her. She is sort of in denial and refuses to leave where she is in the middle of the forest out of the delusion that they’ll come back. The song ends with her realizing that she has to move on as she attempts to leave the forest. (also, frozen Pines is the name of the motel so it could also just be that maybe Danielle is stuck at a motel which would honestly be kind of funny.)
Cursed/best love song ever written: Buck has found himself a new girl. However, due to previous failed romantic endeavors and hallucinations, he thinks that she’s an asshole trying to put a curse on him. (The song is presumably about Louisa. It’s entirely possible that Louisa was being manipulative but they sort things out)
Way out there: (The most difficult song to figure out) presumably about Avery. I can only best describe it as him having an existential crisis and him missing his dead family.
Louisa: after Buck was tempted to kick bricks, Louisa helped him out and gave him a newfound appreciation for life. Now they’re happy =]
Night we met: last song of Frankie reminiscing over her ex. Also, the lyric video confirms that Buck & Louisa either broke up or she was just a figment of his imagination, so uh, ya. Hopefully you weren't as emotionally invested in these characters as much as I was because that tore me a new one.
Sidenotes: this album definitely had the most interpretations. The biggest issues are the stories of yawning grave and way out there, as I am unsure that it is even about Avery. The real issue tho is the lack of songs about Danielle. Ben Come On!
There are also a couple connections between this album and the next
Vide Noir: 
Setting: 1960s. Detroit & Los Angeles. 
Background info: A drug called vide noir has recently been legalized. It’s basically just a hallucinogenic that destroys the fabric of reality, good times.
Characters:
Buck Vernon: Christ Ben just can’t seem to give this guy a break.
Lee Green: Buck’s new girl. Probably wants to be an actress or something.
Lady moonbeam: A medium/psychic. I think she’s black but it’s hard to tell because of the lighting.
Cobb Avery: Best Boy Electrician on “Products of the Universe” TV show. (only mentioned in 1 song)
Marsha Tanley & Dale Frander: “Products of the Universe” host; guy selling vide & its derivatives. (not in the songs)
Story:
Lost in time and space: Buck is upset because Lee left. He decides to chase after her nonetheless.
Never ever: Buck's spirits are lifted as he heads out to find Lee.
Ancient names: Buck goes to Lady Moonbeam For advice but she sees into the future and sees that Buck will become a drug addict. He’s in denial but she knows otherwise.
Wait by the river: just Buck talking about how you would do anything for Lee. Also reveals the potential of an altercation between the two of them, presumably the two of them having a fight before she left.
Secret of life: (OK this one’s a little hard, the singer is clearly Buck, but it’s hard to tell if he’s confronting either Lee or lady moonbeam) either way, whoever he is confronting has allegedly made a pact with Avery that will cause something bad to happen to Buck. Because of this, he downs a bottle of fukitol/vide noir.
Back from the edge: the MF dies but comes back (where have we seen that before)
Balancer's eye: Buck runs into God and is denied access to heaven. Either because he wasn’t supposed to die or maybe people who take drugs aren’t allowed in. Or God has really high standards and no one‘s allowed in (again, weird knowing that Blaqufut experienced purgatory and Avery said there’s no heaven at all)
When the night is over: realizing the effect of VN, Buck is becoming worried for Lee that she might overdose if he doesn’t find her soon enough
Moonbeam: Like with Louisa, Buck ran into a girl that saved him from a bad place. Hard to tell if it’s Lee (it likely isn’t because of later in the story)  or lady moonbeam.
Vide Noir: Buck talking about the effects of the drug.
Emerald star/The most depressing song ever written: after doing everything he can and fucking dying, Buck finally finds Lee but he is turned down as she would rather be a junkie. It’s also possible that she might die or be dying, judging by the fact that the second half of this song is just instrumental followed by a sudden halt at the end. {Yay, I get to experience “close to you” all over again}
Sidenotes: George ranger Johnson is a spiritual advisor for the show that Avery works on.
The events of the film are claimed to come at the end/after the album.
--------------------------------
All information was aggregated from the albums, interviews with Ben, music videos, articles about the film, Products of the Universe, & whatever else I could scavenge from LH’s YouTube channel.
I’d also like to give a huge thanks to the fanbase for their theories and research. It really helped out a lot piecing this all together. I had a lot of fun discussing this with fellow Wanderers and Enders and really appreciate being a part of this fanbase.
If you have any alternative theories, timelines, etc, be sure to mention them. A huge chunk of this info will probably become obsolete when the film/next album comes along so enjoy this while we can still be optimistic.
Dear Balancer help us.
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breanime · 4 years
Note
What about a rival gang coming after you to get to rio and you get shot in the side. When you wake up from surgery your super scared and looking/asking around for rio but he’s out “taking care of it” and when he comes back you’re super upset with him and just scared and he loves on you and is super apologetic. Thank you! 💛💛
To be clear: my requests aren’t open, I’m just finishing up headcannons from yesterday :)
This one got a little long...haha, my bad 
*gif not mine*
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As soon as the gun goes off, Rio’s whole world seems to stop
One second, he was pushing you to the floor and pulling out his pistol, shooting at the assholes who came for him
And the next, you’re screaming
When he looked down at you, he can see the blood seeping through your clothes
And his heart stops
He vaguely registers the sound of his own voice, and Mick and his guys run up, guns blasting, while Rio crouches down next to you
There are tears in his eyes, and he hates that because he doesn’t want the last thing you see to be him crying
He hates that his mind want there, and Rio tries to focus in on you, telling you that you’re gonna be ok, to stay with him
But your eyes flutter close, and while he can feel you breathing and knows that you just lost consciousness, he’s shaking with fear
Rio doesn’t know it, but you can still hear him as you’re passed out
And the last thing you hear is his voice, deep and slow and full of absolute RAGE saying
“Every person--every. single. one.--who had something to do with this is dead”
When you wake up, you’re in a hospital room
Your side hurts, and you hiss as you try to sit up
One of Rio’s guys is there, and he gets up and goes to your side, telling you to try not to move
“W... Where’s Rio?” You ask weakly
“He’s taking care of this,” the guy assures you, “but you’re safe. I’m here, and there are two other guys outside...”
“Wait, what does that mean? ‘Taking care of this’?” You ask, though you know the answer
The guy steps back, looking uncomfortable. “Just... Just rest, I’ll let him know you’re up”
You wait until the door closes behind him to cry
You’re scared, and in pain, and you’re worried about Rio
You don’t want to be there, you want to be with him, in his arms
Why wasn’t he here with you?
Less than 30 minutes later, Rio walks in the room
His face is bruised, and you can see blood on his shoes, but he looks fine
When he walks into your room, you can see the anger in him
His eyes are black, and his shoulders are tensed
His fists are balled up at his sides, and you can feel the power, the anger, the murderous rage coming off of him as he moves towards you
You can tell that your man has killed tonight, and from the looks of him--
--he killed more than once
But as Rio gets closer to you, he softens
His eyes turn sad, and his frown is one of guilt and sorrow, not rage as he looks at you
He stands at the side of your bed, looking down at you before reaching his hand out and caressing the side of your face, his long, bruised knuckles brushing your tears
“Baby, I--”
“Where were you?” You interrupt, and he steps back
“Taking care of--”
“--of business,” you finish for him, sitting up, wincing as you did, “yeah, I heard,” you want to swat him away when he steps back over to you and helps you up, but you can’t
Instead, you lean into his touch
“I was so scared...” You say, tears gathering in your eyes
“I know, baby,” Rio says back, “I’m sorry, I should have protected you--”
“No, not then,” you shook your head, “Now. When I woke up and you were gone.” You sniffle. “I was all alone.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, sitting on the edge of your bed, “but I’m here now, and I ain’t leavin’ your side till you’re all better”
You nod, and he leans over and kisses your forehead, his lips soft and warm on your skin
You let Rio wrap his arms around you, melting into his touch
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry, baby”
You don’t know if he’s apologizing for not being there or for you getting shot, but either way, you tell him it’s okay
Rio is true to his word
He stays with you every day while you’re in the hospital, sleeping on a cot next to you
He wakes up before you, makes sure you’re sleeping comfortably and kisses your forehead as he watches you sleep
Rio has the nurses show him how best to change the dressing on your side and what to do when you’re in pain
He also has a very serious talk with the (slightly intimidated) doctor about what meds you’ll be on and how much activity you should be doing while you’re healing
During the day, he sits in bed with you, you in his lap and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you watch terrible daytime TV together
He gets hella into the soap operas
He still gets calls and texts, but he stays in the room with you while he discusses business, unless you’re asleep
In which case, he’ll send in 3 of his guys
(2 to watch over you and 1 to entertain you)
while he handles business
Rio tells you exactly what he did to the members of the rival gang
It’s gruesome, but he wants to keep you in the loop, and you’re grateful
The only time Rio leaves your side for more than a few minutes is the day before you’re schedule to go home
He preps the house
Makes sure there are clean sheets on the bed
Buys extra soft, feather-stuffed pillows for you
Lays out your favorite, comfiest set of PJs for you
And makes sure the fridge is stocked with all of your favorite foods
He also stops by one of his warehouses to check the product and make sure Mick’s keeping everything going while Rio is busy
(he is)
Then he goes back to the hospital to pick you up
When you get home, Rio doesn’t let you lift a finger
He holds you all day, kissing you and telling you over and over how sorry he is
Finally, you look up at him and say: “Baby, I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s okay. I love you.”
“Love you too, mama,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “So much...”
You can tell Rio holds a lot of guilt and regret over what happened, so you try to show him that you’re fine
You get more and more mobile with each passing day
And so one day, you wake up before Rio--
--he hadn’t been sleeping through the night since you’d gotten shot, he wakes up in the middle of the night to check on you, and sometimes he can’t fall back asleep until the sun comes up
So you press a soft kiss to his cheek, glad that he’s sleeping, and sneak down to the kitchen
It takes you longer to get to the kitchen than it used to (obviously), but once you’re there, you start cooking Rio a big breakfast
You’re struggling to reach the pancake mix in the cabinet when you hear Rio’s voice
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He strides across the kitchen, glaring at you
“Makin’ breakfast.” you answer, pouting when he pulls your hand down. “What?”
Rio takes a breath, a telltale sign that he was upset with you but trying not to overeact
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” he says carefully
“I know, but I’m feeling better, and I wanted to make you breakfast cause you’ve been taking such good care of me.”
He sighs, and you can see his eyes soften as he looks at you. “That’s insane,” he chuckles, “you’re insane...” He leans down and kisses you, his arms wrapping around you
His kiss is soft and gentle, and when he pulls back, he’s smiling--
--an actual, genuine Rio smile
“I love you,” you say, smiling back at him
“I love you too,” he says, kissing you again
He takes you to bed then, and you spend the morning in his arms
You know he’s still not ready to talk about his feelings with all of this yet, and you’re not going to push him,
but you try to let him know a few things.
Namely that you’re safe now, you don’t blame him, and you know that he’ll always do whatever it takes to protect you
And he does
The next time the two of you go out, when you’re all better, you can tell there’s been a shift in dynamics in the streets
Everyone treats you with a strong sense of respect, and when you walk down the street, people almost throw themselves into traffic to get out of your way
You raise an eyebrow as the owner of the expensive restaurant Rio brought you to nearly breaks his neck to open the door and greet you
The restaurant is empty; Rio reserved it for just the two of you
(and the guards he keeps around you now)
“Really, Rio?” You ask
He grins, his hand on your waist
“Just doing what I can to keep my girl safe,” he says innocently
You laugh, and spend the rest of the evening basking in Rio’s love
*******************************************************************************************
Okay, I’m not even gonna lie hurt/comfort is my JAM, and I will DEFINITELY be fleshing this idea out before I go to bed so I can (hopefully) dream about it. Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!
Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25​  @mrsjaxtellerfan​  @rhabakoli​  @encounterthepast​ @realduckvader​   @justvnash​ @knowles-morgan  @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19  @nyxxnoxx​ @carlaangel86  @luminex3 @jigsawlover10  @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart  @lexxierave @crushed-pink-petals
Rio Taglist: @gemini0410​  @glimmerglittergirl @gensneverland @jamielennkeeler @angels-pie @hermionetriskatniss​  @christinawxxx @nich0lasmatthews  @whovianayesha @tashawar @existentialvacuum @beardburnsupersoldiers @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored
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shangrila11 · 3 years
Text
Dreams do come true // Roxas (KH) x F! reader [Soulmate! AU]
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You yawned as you made your way to her bed. It had been a long, hectic day (but enjoyable since it was your birthday) and you wanted nothing more than to catch some z's. You flopped onto your bed and snuggled yourself into it, trying to make yourself as comfy as possible.
"I wonder if I'll meet them..." you wondered as her eyelids grew heavy. For so long, you had been wondering who your soulmate was, how they were like personality-wise, what they looked like and whatnot. And now that you had reached the age when one would usually meet their soulmate, you would be getting those answers soon. Hopefully. With that thought in mind, you drifted off into dreamland.
                                                               xxx xxx
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was the colour blue, from the semi-cloudy sky above you to the mirror-like ground below you. 
"Wow. What is this place?" you gasped, looking around in amazement. It looked gorgeous and looked like something out of ...well, a dream. You took in the breath-taking scenery for a while longer before your eyes laid on a cloaked figure some distance away from you admiring the view as well. Their back was facing you so the only other feature you could see was their spiky blonde hair. 
"That should be them" you thought. With your heart racing in anticipation, you approached them, creating ripples with each step you take.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" you asked when you were near them. The figure jumped a little and turned around to face you.
"Who are you?" the figure, now revealed to be a male, asked with a frown. Now that he was facing you, you could see that he had eyes the colour of the very place you were standing right now. It then dawned on him. "Oh. You are that 'soulmate' person that Axel has been telling me about, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," you nodded. You wanted to ask the male more about this Axel person but thought it was too soon for that. You extended out a hand, flashing the male an affable smile. "I'm (Y/N), by the way, and you are...?"
"Roxas," the male replied simply, taking your hand to shake it.
"Nice to meet, you, Roxas," you beamed. Roxas hummed in response and then retracted his hand. A somewhat awkward silence ensued for a while before you spoke up. 
"So what do you want to do?" you asked.
"Well... I don't have anything in mind, actually," Roxas shook his head. "But I'm fine with anything so I'll leave it up to you."
"Ok," you agreed. You tapped your chin thoughtfully for a moment before an idea popped into your brain. "Oh, I know!" You snapped your fingers and the place soon turned into a kitchen.
"Let's do some cooking! What do you like to eat, Roxas?" you grinned.
"...Sea-salt ice-cream," the blonde male answered. He said it with such a serious expression that you stifled a giggle.
"What?" Roxas frowned, slightly sulking.
"Sorry. The way you say it with such a straight face is pretty funny," you, unable to hold it any longer, laughed lightly.
"Haha, at least someone's amused," Roxas remarked wryly, rolling his eyes. But there was a hint of a smile on his face. "So how do we go about with it?"
"Let's see..." you began. A recipe book appeared in your hands and you read it. Roxas went over to look through it with you as well. Your shoulders touched as the two of you read together. You felt a little self-conscious about the fact that the two of you were so close to each other but decided to pay no heed.
"This is also my first time making this, actually, so I'm not sure if it'll taste like the one you're used to but let's give it a try, yeah?" you smiled at Roxas warmly. Roxas nodded. Together, the two of you made the ice-cream.
A while later, the two of you were holding their finished product with satisfied smiles on your faces.
"Alright. Let's dig in," you grinned. You and Roxas took a bite of the ice-cream. 
"Mmm... this is pretty good," you commented. The saltiness and sweetness of the ice-cream complemented each other well. Roxas nodded.
"It tastes almost like the one I usually eat back home," he agreed. He went quiet for a moment before continuing, "You know, you're not too bad of a person."
"Awww... I think you're really cool as well," you beamed sweetly. 
"Huh. That's good to hear," Roxas answered nonchalantly. "Oh, and happy birthday." A necklace with the roman number for 13 materialised in his hands. You gasped. It looked stunning.
"Axel told me that when it is the birthday of one half of a soulmate pair, they will meet the other half. Since it isn't my birthday, I figure that it is yours," he explained. "So... do you want me to put it on for you?"
"Oh! Err... yes, please," you, still feeling surprised, nodded. Roxas moved closer to you and carefully put the necklace on you. Your heart thumped wildly against your chest but you kept your composure.
After the necklace was put on, you clutched the pendant fondly.
"Thanks, Roxas," you smiled at him. "I'll treasure it."
"It's nothing," Roxas replied. Their surrounding was slowly becoming brighter now, indicating that it was almost time to wake up. "So I guess I'll see you again later tonight?"
"Of course," you beamed. From that day on, the two of you hung out with each other in their dreams every night, joking, chatting and doing activities together. Roxas was really good company and you enjoyed spending time with him. However, at one point in time, he forgot who you were. You were, of course, devastated. But at least he was still the same Roxas you knew and he did eventually get his memories back. You were overjoyed when that happened, so much so that you shed tears of happiness. Roxas, too, seemed delighted to finally remember you but felt guilty at the same time as he apologised to you repeatedly and held you close to him. Still crying, you assured him that it was alright. From that day on, the two of you grew closer than ever and even more so after a particular incident.
That day, you and Roxas were hanging out in your dreams, as usual. You remarked that the two of you hadn't met in reality yet and asked if the two of you could do so. However, to your disappointment, Roxas (nicely) rejected your offer.
"Why not?" she asked, dismayed.
"If I tell you the reason, you might find it hard to believe," Roxas explained. 
"Try me. I haven't even heard the reason yet so how can I judge whether it's believable or not?" you replied, gazing at him firmly. Seeing the determination in your eyes, Roxas sighed.
"Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you," he answered. He then went on to explain that he was a Nobody, that he was currently residing the heart of his original persona and everything else you needed to know. He answered whatever questions that you had as well.
After Roxas's explanation, you went silent. Noticing this, Roxas looked at you in concern. 
"(Y/N)?" he asked, almost cautiously. What happened next threw him off guard a little. You wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace without warning, surprising the male. 
"(Y/N)?" he repeated.
"I didn't know you had been through so much," you remarked softly. "Also, I noticed that strange things have been happening around here but I didn’t expect it to be something that major. And for that, I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I didn't want you to get involved in all of these and that's why I didn't tell you until now," Roxas assured you.
"But still I could have done something," you countered, but not too harshly. You broke away from the hug and took Roxas's hands in yours, squeezing them gently. "Now that I know, from now on, do tell me what I can do to help and I'll do everything in my power to provide that assistance. You deserve to be your very own person, after all."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks," Roxas smiled. He paused for a moment before continuing, "You know, I was initially not too enthusiastic about this 'soulmate' thing. I don't like the idea of being forced to have feelings for someone." Your heart almost sank at his words but fluttered soon after when Roxas gazed at you tenderly as he said the next few words.
"But if it's you...  I guess I don't mind," he finished. He then averted his gaze away, his cheeks tinted red. "Man, I can't believe I just said that." You stared at him for a while before a giggle escaped your lips.
"Oh, Roxas. You can be so adorable sometimes."
                                                         xxx xxx
Some time had passed since then and now you were currently strolling along the streets of Twilight Town with Olette, Hayner and Pence.
"Thanks for helping us at the old mansion the other day," Olette thanked you with a warm smile.
"No problem. I did promise Roxas that I would help him," you smiled back.
"You mentioned before that you meet Roxas regularly in your dreams, right? So how is he like?" Pence asked. Your other two friends expressed their curiosity as well.
"Well... he may seem stoic at first but once you get to know him, he's a pretty nice guy," you smiled. You placed a hand over your heart. "He's someone I hold dear." But then you noticed your friends exchanging sly looks at each other and your cheeks immediately heated up.
"I...it's not what you guys think!" you stammered.
"Oh, really? Then why are you reacting like that?" Hayner teased. "Besides, we're all from the same town, you know? You think we don't know the meaning of you and Roxas being able to interact with each other in your dreams?"
"I... I... well..." you stuttered, getting more flustered by the minute. You and your friends were so engrossed in their conversation that she didn't notice that a certain blonde, a male with spiky red hair and a female with short, black hair had spotted the four of them.
                                                     xxx xxx
"(Y/N)? Hayner? Olette? Pence?" Roxas called out. The (H/C)-haired female froze before slowly turning around to face him. Hayner, Olette and Pence followed suit. 
"Roxas?" his soulmate gasped, her face a picture of shock. "Is that really you?"
"Mmmhmm. It's me," Roxas nodded. Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes. She then tackled him in a hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him. But he didn't mind it one bit and accepted the hug.
"It really is you," she whispered. "So they've found a way to let you live a separate life from Sora?"
"That's right," Roxas agreed. He then broke away from the hug so that he could introduce Axel and Xion to (Y/N), Olette, Hayner and Pence, and vice versa.
"Ah, so you're Xion and Axel! Roxas told me a lot about you two," (Y/N) smiled, shaking their hands one by one. "It's nice to finally meet the two of you."
"It's nice to meet you too," Xion beamed ever so slightly.
"Huh. Glad you got our names memorised," Axel grinned. "And call me Lea, by the way."
"Of course," (Y/N) returned Lea's grin with one of her own. Lea and Xion exchanged greetings with Olette, Hayner and Pence after that and before long, everyone was making small talk. Laughter filled the air as they conversed with each other. Seeing his friends getting along with each other and that Olette, Hayner and Pence were not that different from the ones he knew, a small smile crept across Roxas's face.
"It must be nice to see your friends again," a familiar voice commented. Roxas turned around to see (Y/N) smiling at him.
"... Yes, it is," the blonde-haired male concurred. "I never thought I would see this day come. It's all thanks to Sora, our friends and of course, you." He smiled at her, his gaze soft.
"I didn't do much, really," (Y/N) laughed lightly.
"That may be true but it means a lot to me," Roxas answered firmly. "You being able to interact with me in our dreams makes being inside Sora's heart feel less... lonesome, as cheesy as it may sound. And you did help Olette, Hayner and Pence out at the old mansion despite the danger, didn't you?"
"I supposed that's true," (Y/N) agreed. "Thanks, Roxas."
"It's nothing. I'm just speaking the truth," Roxas shrugged. However, there was a hint of a smile on his face. The two of them then went to continue chatting with their friends. Even though neither of them had said it out loud, the two soulmates were glad to finally meet each other in person at last.
(Inspired by the prompt: Imagine that soulmates just have this ability to dream together/meet each other in your dreams regardless of whether or not you two meet in real life. Your dreams could then be like a real-life video game, for example, you two could be in a zombie-apocalypse type of dream and you both would try your best to help each other out. If one gets bitten/dies you wake up and your soulmate is there to tell you everything is alright or tease you how you couldn’t shoot fast enough and then you’d both go back to sleep and maybe start round two, found on tumblr)
(Picture does not belong to me. Credit goes to  梅野つぐ on pixiv)
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tornrose24 · 3 years
Text
Thoughts on Cinema Sins ‘Everything wrong with Phantom of the Opera’ video.
Well at least ONE of the movies I was hoping Cinema Sins would cover happened. Some sins were expected, but I wasn’t expecting that the CS guy apparently saw the musical and has some knowledge about the history of PotO in general.
-”Several people died.” No not really unless not everyone got out of the burning opera house.
-Knew he’d make a Minions joke the second ‘illumination’ was mentioned.
-Aww, no sins off for the use of the Overture music? And its from the 80’s so of course it would sound the way it does.
-Ok, I admit showing the seats losing their dust and becoming brand new again as a ‘what if’ for movie theaters when quarantine was over was amusing.
-There’s a difference between good opera singing and annoying opera singing, which is why the ladies didn’t care for Carlotta’s singing.
-I wonder what a Silence of the Lambs opera would be like, speaking of CS getting his Hannibals mixed up.
-Raoul and Christine are supposed to be around the same age, so the fact that Patrick Wilson was like 13 years older than Emmy does make the ‘childhood sweethearts’ thing strange.
-Oh great, now CS made 2004!Raoul and Christine’s age gap as problematic as with her and Erik’s by pointing that out.
-Minnie Driver is a great Carlotta AND was a memorable part of this film.
-Oh Christ, 200,000 francs equals almost a million bucks in today’s world? Isn’t that a little too much to demand, Erik?
-Yeah Emmy doesn’t exactly HAVE the right voice for Christine when you compare her to other stage Christines (but at least she doesn’t have a weird vibrato like a certain someone).
-Christine doesn’t strike me as a super social person, and her father was a supporter of her musical talents so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be amongst her new fans and pay a visit to the chapel.
-I wonder if Ramin (aka one of the best Phantoms) found out that he was compared to Harry Styles in this video.
-Christine was supposed to keep her lessons a secret, so it makes sense that she’d confide in Meg after that.
-CS points out the unfortunate implications of Christine being a child when she was approached by Erik in this adaptation and I’m pretty sure CS is going to utterly destroy Webber for this someday.
-Actually yeah-where the hell did everyone go when there was so many people outside Christine’s dressing room a few moments ago?
-I do appreciate CS calling out Giry for just letting the Phantom stalk Christine and not stopping it sooner. (And it does feel strange that she’d let the girl she considers a surrogate daughter go through this).
-”Psychedelically laced smoke.” Every fan thinks that too.
-Also, the mirror is a trick mirror. Kind of obvious later.
-Also he needed her to think he was a divine tutor and didn’t show up until Raoul came into the picture (and because he wanted to move on to actually facing her like a real person).
-Well the horse WAS in the book, but him being part of Christine’s ‘possible hallucination’ makes sense too. Also the idea of her ridding the Phantom is amusing.
-No that WASN’T the sewers they were going through–the opera house literally had an underground lake and there’s a history behind it since the opera house this story is based on is real. 
-Erik building the statues makes more sense to me since the guy is meant to be hyper talented.Also note that this is where you can especially tell CS had experience with die hard fans of the book since he refers to the Phantom by his actual name for this sin in addition to saying WHAT they told him specifically.
-Actually CS has a good point about how the final note of the title song is shown off. They should draw more attention to Christine singing that note since its not only a display of her talent but a show of just how much influence/power Erik has over that. Instead we don’t see Emmy singing (and as anyone will tell you, she sang it as an E flat and not an actual E note).
-Yeah that scarf mask is weird.
-The smoke eye has been a mystery for AGES CS and no one can answer why.
-Love the description of singing “Music of the night” as to treat it like going to a glorious destination.
-Thanks for reminding me why the casting choices and changed up backstory makes 2004!Erik worse than he needs to be (God... what the hell were you thinking ALW and JS?!)
-If CS is familiar with the musical, I wonder if he’s aware that 2004!Erik was many a teenage girls’ crush with that in mind.
-Ah the return of the original ‘creepy doll that looks like a character’ that I almost forgot about. Except CS makes it more creepier by pointing out something about it that makes 2004!Erik more creepier than he needs to.
-CS keeps referring to actors by whatever they were in/a character they also played. And I’m just reminded how strange it was to see Emmy in Shameless (and she’s not enough to make me want to watch that show).
-CS forgot that the managers were supposed to be ass-kissing when he wondered why they were in the dressing room.
-If I remember correctly, a company performs one opera production at night and then practices/rehearses for the next one during the day. The one they perform happens for a certain amount of time before its time to switch out. But yeah, the film makes it look like this is all happening in 24 hours which shouldn’t be possible.
-Nothing for that guy mooning Carlotta? Ok then, moving on I suppose.
-I’ve seen this movie hundreds of times and I NEVER saw the boat in the woman’s wig until it was pointed out.
-Was he not paying attention? Erik kills Bouquet because the guy was trying to go after him. The original reason why he died in the book was for the same reason.
-I’m glad that CS has sympathy for Christine for all she went though in a supposed 24 hours. I’d crack under all that too.
-Surprised he didn’t sin the snot shot on the roof. (You know what I’m talking about).
-Yeah, so much for a secret engagement if you got the ring exposed.
-Not sure why CS finds the gold guys funny other than they are ‘just there.’
-I would love to see the party-goers go after Erik since they DO outnumber him as an alternate scene during that moment after ‘Masquerade.’
-No ‘This is Sparta’ jokes? Ok then, moving on I suppose.
-Christine’s dad is implied to be famous in this movie (explaining the mausoleum, but in the book he was poor so he shouldn’t have one). But that does raise questions as to why Christine seemingly has little money to her name in this version.
-Dude, seeing the gave fight scene as Nite Owl vs. Leonidas was something I couldn’t unsee for more than 10 years. But I bet the Snyder fans loved that joke. (Speaking of CS and superhero films WHEN WILL YOU STOP TEASING ME WITH ‘ANIMATED SUPERHERO FILMS’ THAT ARE JUST ANIMATED DC FILMS AND SHOW ME THE ONE I ACTUALLY WANT TO SEE?!)
-I would love to see a Home Alone version of PotO since CS pointed it out.
-Actually I would love to see the au where CS is a critic in the PotO world and just not give a shit if Erik threatened him.
-Yeah, Raoul making Christine the bait and endangering her IS messed up. As much of a dolt he is, novel!Raoul would NEVER have done that to her.
-Erik’s hair looks nice because its a wig, CS.
-Oh boy, the reveal of the bad make up. No surprise it got a sin. I loved that CS showed Lon Chaney’s version (and hopefully will get people to watch the original silent PotO) and was more impressed by it over what this movie had. I also love how blunt CS is in summing up the deformity.
-There wasn’t a fire when the mob went after the Phantom in the musical. But as history can prove, some mobs care more about their goals than their own safety.
-I think they wanted to squeeze in one more trap before the final confrontation and Raoul WAS trapped in a room that became filled with water in the book and silent film. Though I’m amazed CS didn’t notice the reverse direction the bubbles were going during that scene.
-I don’t know how to answer why Christine was just standing around and doing jack shit to help Raoul during the final confrontation.
-A recreation of one of the most famous kiss scenes in musical history and CS just sums it up as ‘yeah your first kiss always sucks.’
-I love the contrast of Super Mario music with shots of PotO for the bonus round.
-Holy crap, that WAS a lot of candles.
-Some of the alternate audios for the last bit were unfamiliar but that Bug’s Life scene for when Christine is heading towards the mirror is perfection.
-And of COURSE CS would use that one Mission Impossible scene.
Final verdict: Predictable at times, but pretty amusing for a PotO fan like myself. I do hope the next movie musical CS covers is ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’
21 notes · View notes
twomoonstwosuns · 4 years
Text
sick day.
back to you [series masterlist]
previous part · next part
pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader
warnings: swearing, smut in a dream (18+), heavy amounts of fluff
word count: 4.0k
a/n: i’m sorry for the delay, it’s been a weird week. i hopefully won’t make you wait as long for the next part. this is kind of a filler chapter, but i hope you guys enjoy it still! the poe dameron x reader tag hasn’t been working so if you’re missing updates, blame Tumblr. 
also thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for helping me when i was stuck <3
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“Baby, fuck you feel so good.”
Poe gripped your hips, sliding you to the edge of his desk and sliding his cock into you. The hand on the back of his neck tightened, grabbing some of his curls in its grasp at the intrusion. Your mouth was on the base of his neck, decorating it with different sized bruises. One particular bite to his pulse with a tight clench of your pussy made him groan loudly and you quickly pulled his mouth down to yours with a tug of his tie.
“Do we have to worry about you being loud?” You breathed heavily. Poe lifted your legs higher up on his waist, the new angle allowing him to drive deeper into you. A loud gasp left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a smirk crossed his face. He leaned down to your ear, taking the shell of hit in his mouth. 
“You know what I’ve thought about?” He said lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he slowed his thrusts. You gave a quiet, strangled moan as a response as he bit down on it. “Taking my tie, tying you up. Completely at my mercy.”
His hand was on the side of your neck, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down the front of your throat. You were a trembling mess, the thought of him putting just a little more pressure there enough to make you come hard right on the spot. 
“I could—fuck yes, Poe—get into that.” Poe’s mouth covered yours, swallowing the sounds coming from you. You giggled against his lips as an item fell off of his desk from the harsh movement against it. 
A knock on his office door made you both freeze, horrified looks on your faces as you looked at each other and then at the door. 
“Just a sec!” Poe yelled before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Get under my desk.”
You both scrambled as quietly as you could, pulling your pants up and fixing your shirts. You tucked yourself underneath his desk, feeling very grateful for the backing on the front of the desk. Poe tamed his hair the best he could as he unlocked his door and opened it, immediately greeting the person on the other side. 
“Ackbar, how are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good, I just wanted to run something by you.” Ackbar said, nodding towards the door handle. “Who are you trying to keep out, Dameron?”
His tone was suggestive, but Poe shut it down with a shake of his head. “Some of my students like to barge in and hang out in here because of my very lenient open door policy and I have several phone calls I’m taking today. Including one in five minutes, so you have to make it quick.”
Ackbar left the door open as he sat down across from Poe’s desk. Poe sat back in his chair, scooting all the way in so his entire lower half was underneath the desk to shield you. 
“So, what’s up?” Poe spoke, providing cover for the movement you were making under his desk to make room for his legs. 
“What do you think about forgoing a final exam for anyone who’s averaging a C in the class?” Ackbar asked. “I mean, if they want to take the final to try and raise their overall grade they can, but if they fail it’ll count against them.”
Poe squirmed in his seat as he felt your hands on his thighs, rubbing slowly and traveling higher. His leg hit the underside of his desk when he felt the vibration of his zipper being slowly pulled down, which he told Ackbar was a muscle spasm. 
“You’re teaching two hundred freshman over four lectures, you sure you want to do that?” Poe said slowly, the attempt to keep his voice level and controlled extremely difficult. 
“It’s definitely less grading for me to do, but I was also thinking that—“
Everything Ackbar was saying was going in Poe’s ear and right out the other as the soft skin of your hand made contact with his cock, applying firm pressure and pumping him. He wasn’t entirely soft yet and a few strokes of your hand brought him back to fully hard. He coughed to cover the groan that almost erupted from him. 
“Here’s my opinion,” Poe said, interrupting Ackbar, sucking in a breath as your thumb brushed over the head of his cock. “I’d do it for seniors but freshman? They’ll most likely take the easy way out and skip it. Don’t let them settle for mediocre grades. Not one of them will willingly take the final.”
“Alright, you’re right.” Ackbar put his hands up in surrender. Poe felt his cock start to tighten up, the thought of coming in your hand under the desk with Ackbar just a few feet away stoking a fire inside him. Instead, Poe felt you carefully tuck him back in his pants and skillfully disguised the deep groan he let out as one of agreement. “You catching the game later?”
“I’m going to try.” Poe looked at his watch. “Sorry man, I have to take a call in a minute.”
“No worries,” Ackbar stood up, Poe doing the same and straightening his shirt so it covered more of his groin area as he walked towards the door. “You wanna grab a beer at Maz’s later? Watch the game?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Ackbar shook Poe’s hand and patted him on the back. “Have fun with those calls. Take it easy, Dameron.”
As soon as the door shut and the lock clicked, Poe let out an exasperated laugh. You crawled out from under his desk laughing so hard that you had to lean against his desk to keep yourself from falling over. Poe came around to his desk again, laughing as he plopped back into his chair.  
“I can’t believe you did that,” he said in disbelief, though the smile on his face said he wasn’t the least bit upset about it. 
“Exhilarating though.” You leaned down and pecked his lips, your hands going back to his pants and unbuckling them for the second time as you got on your knees. 
“Let me finish what I started.”
Poe woke with a jolt as a cough rocked through him, groaning at the congested pain it left behind in his chest. His eyes screwed shut and his groan grew louder at how turned on he felt at that moment, knowing he had no energy to take care of it and no energy to enjoy you taking care of it for him. Poe looked up just as you came in, a cup of water in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in the other. You set the items on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back. 
“You ok?”
“No,” he said, shoving his head into the pillow. “I was having a good dream about you.”
“Oh yeah?” Poe pushed his hips into the mattress, looking for relief. You stifled a laugh. “Oh, that kind of dream. Do you want me to help you out?”
“No, ‘m too tired.”
You leaned down to his ear, your voice lowering. “You know, I have those dreams about you too.”
Poe reached over and squeezed your thigh. “Y/N…”
“Baby…” you mocked his whine. Poe shivered and you saw goosebumps appear on his skin. You placed your hand against his forehead and then the cheek that wasn’t resting on the pillow. “You might have a fever, do you have a thermometer?”
“I don’t think so.”
You went into his bathroom and looked for anything that would help. You found some ibuprofen and you helped him sit up enough to swallow them. Pulling the blanket up around him, you leaned down and kissed his head. 
“Sleep. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
You left the door opened a crack, enough to hear if he needed you and for Beebs to come and go as he pleased. He was already snoring by the time you got to his kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. 
You knew Poe wasn’t feeling great when you talked to him the night before and you were surprised when you got an email saying he was canceling class. In the two semesters worth of classes you’d had with him, he’d never canceled a class without notice. You skipped your last class of the day and went straight to Poe’s. He tried to argue with the very little energy he had that you didn’t have to skip class to take care of him, but the minute you got him to lay in bed, he was completely submissive. 
Your phone vibrated in your pocket with an incoming call and you grabbed it to see it was Jessika calling. 
“I’m at the grocery store, do you need anything?”
“Actually yeah, do you mind picking up some things to make soup and dropping them off at Poe’s? He’s sick and he has nothing here to help him feel better.”
“Yeah you bet, send me a text?”
“I will. I’ll send you his address too. Text me when you get here.”
“No problem, see you in a bit.”
You tossed your phone onto the table and grabbed your backpack, setting yourself up on his couch. You had a long list of things that needed to get done, midterms coming up quicker than you were prepared for. You also had to order your robe for graduation so you had time to get it hemmed if needed. But an assignment that was due the next day required your immediate attention. You opened your book and you’re notebook and dove right in. 
Fifteen minutes later and you’d read the same paragraph four times. You alternated between staring at your book and tapping your pen against the page to staring to scrolling through apps on your phone. There was no motivation to do anything productive. What you really wanted to do was curl up with Poe under his blankets and just sleep, but you were already risking getting sick by being there and cuddling with him would pretty much guarantee it. Throwing your stuff aside, you walked over to the shelves that lined Poe’s living room, seeing if there was maybe a book he had that would be far more interesting than reading about marketing and trade shows. You looked through all the titles of his books, some maybe’s coming to your head when you spotted a picture frame stuck between a book and the back of the shelf. You carefully moved the book, grabbing the picture frame and wiping the dust off of the glass. 
He looked just like her. Thick and curly raven-hair sat on top their heads. They shared the same eyes, deep brown like milk chocolate, though hers were just a bit lighter. Their smiles matched, easy and laidback like it took no effort at all. You recognized the ring on her finger as the one worn around Poe’s neck. In the picture, Poe was mid-laugh as his mother carried him on her back, his tiny arms wrapped around her neck and his head against hers. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The way Poe talked about her and seeing the picture that you found, they were clearly very close. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated Poe must’ve been when she passed. 
Poe had said he’d forgiven you for what you said, but you still hadn’t forgiven yourself. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know if you’d be able to. 
Your phone vibrated in your hand, the message telling you that Jessika had arrived. You told her the code to enter the building and a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. 
“Thank you so much for doing this,” you said as you opened the door, immediately taking the bag from your roommate. 
“No problem at all.”
Jessika looked around behind you, her eyes curious. You chuckled and held the door open.
“Come on in.”
“Inside a professor’s apartment,” Jessika said as she stepped in. She looked around the room when Beebs came up and jumped on her. You tried to apologize and tell Beebs to stop but Jessika just leaned down and picked him up. 
“Ah, the infamous Beebs,” she laughed as he licked her face. “You really are cute, aren’t you?”
You stepped into the kitchen and put a couple bottles of gatorade in the refrigerator, leaving out the ingredients to start making soup with and digging around the cupboards for the items you’d need to make it. 
“So, what’s he sick with?” Jessika asked. 
“A cold from what I can tell. He doesn’t have a thermometer so I don’t know if he has a fever.”
“How’s he doing?”
You sighed heavily. “Poe’s amazing and wonderful in many ways, but he is still a man who thinks he’s dying because he has a cold.”
“You hear that, Beebs?” Jessika said in Beebs’ pointed ear. “He’s got a man-cold. And they’re supposed to be the superior sex.”
“Yeah, supposed to be.”
Beebs wiggled in her arms and she let him down, watching him walk off. You watched Jessika laugh quietly at the adorable dog before looking back around the apartment, giving a small nod of approval. 
“Hey Jess?” You spoke quietly, your voice hesitant and unsure. You walked over to Jessika, who had been looking at you with a questioning look. “I’m sorry.”
Jessika opened her mouth to speak and you put a hand up. “I’m sorry for being a bitch, for treating you like shit, and taking forever to forgive you. You said things and I said things and even though what you said hurt, it doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person and I’ve been treating you like you were. And I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” Jessika replied and you shook your head. 
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, I forgive you then. Because I’ve missed you.”
Holding your arms out, Jessika met you in a tight hug. You really had missed her too. She had been there for you when she didn’t have to be, and thinking back you were surprised she was because you felt you had treated her like shit. Beebs jumping up on both your legs trying to be included in the hug tore you apart, Jessika leaning down and scratching his ears. 
“When we’re done with school and all that and it’s fine for you guys to be in public together, I’d really love to sit down with Prof—Poe.” Jessika said, the use of his first name foreign on her tongue but the effort graciously appreciated by her friend. “You know, get to know him. As one of your best friends, it is my job to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll destroy him.”
You chuckled. “I’m sure we could arrange that if you really want to. I’ve met his friends, seems only fair that he gets to know mine.”
“Exactly!” Jessika said. “Alright, I have to get going. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, I have class a 7:45a.m and he needs to sleep, so I’ll be back later tonight.”
Jessika squeezed your shoulder as she passed and you thanked her once more before she left. You set to work, setting up everything you’d need and pulling up the recipe saved on your phone. 
Chopping vegetables in your boyfriend’s kitchen was oddly domestic, like you were waiting for him to come home from work and you were cooking dinner. You wondered what you would be doing at that very moment had you not pursued your professor that Halloween night. Would you have given Ben another chance? Would you be in a relationship at all? You pondered the what if’s, yet each scenario couldn’t bring you to the level of happiness that was your reality. You really thought you had lost it all during that fight and you would never go another day without being grateful to Poe for forgiving you.
As you added all the ingredients together, your mind went to the dark place you tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Graduation was just two months away. What was going to happen after your relationship graduated and the lease for your apartment was up and you moved back home? Poe certainly didn’t act like he would dump the relationship just because you were done with school, but you couldn’t help but think that way. You copped it up to having developed a small fear of abandonment, no doubt thanks to the sudden departure of your father. 
Slow, heavy footsteps filled the empty silence as you adjusted the temperature on the cooker. Poe slid his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“You didn’t sleep very long,” you said.
“Can’t sleep anymore. Smells good,” Poe mumbled, leaning into you to see what was in the cooker. You gently bumped your head against his. 
“I’m glad you can smell,” you said. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. My mom used to make it for Tallie and I when we were sick. It’s done now, eat some. You need to eat.”
You moved around each other, him scooping up soup and you grabbing him something to drink. 
“Did I have all of this stuff?” Poe asked, looking at all the ingredients he could see in the soup as he walked to sit on the couch. 
“No, Jessika dropped off stuff. You have nothing here,” you teased, taking a seat next to him. Your expression turned a little more serious. “She wants to sit down and talk with you, you know. Get to know you. When the school year’s over. If that’s ok with you.”
“I’d like that,” he said, taking in a spoonful of soup and groaning at how nice it felt against his sore throat. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I still have some secrets left,” you smirked. “I’m glad you’re feeling better enough to eat something. I was starting to worry a little bit.”
“I’m hoping I can kick this in a few days. I’d hate to cancel class again.” You assured Poe that no one would be mad if he did, to which he laughed and then immediately coughed. You hoped he’d be able to get rid of it soon, too. “You’re going to Cabo for spring break, right?”
“Yeah, with a few girlfriends from high school. Why?”
“I just forgot.” There was something about the tone of his voice that sounded nervous, but he didn’t say anything else. You and him had discussed your spring break plans and you knew he was going to California for a few days with Finn and Rey. 
“So, I’m—“ Poe started, pausing to figure out how he was going to ask what he wanted. You urged him to continue. “After California, I’m spending a few days at my dad’s. If you can make it work, would you want to spend two or three of those days with me?”
Your mouth dropped and a small smile started to form on your face. 
“You want me to meet your dad?” Poe shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was to him. And it was to you too. 
“Yeah, I do,” he said, putting his near empty bowl on the coffee table. You were happy to see he was able to finish most of it. “I was thinking you could fly out Thursday and we’d get a late flight back here on Saturday night so the chances of running into people from here are slim.”
“That’s very specific, how long have you been thinking about this?”
“Since we last talked about spring break. I just didn’t know how to ask you.”
“Were you scared to ask me?”
“I thought it might be too soon to be meeting family.”
“It might be,” you said softly and Poe nodded in understanding, but his face fell a little. You placed your hand on his leg. “But I still want to.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded and Poe’s face lit up. This was so important to him, like meeting his friends had been. And it stirred something in your chest that he already wanted you to meet his dad. It gave you more hope for your future together. “I’ll call my friends tomorrow and see if we can figure it out.”
Poe put his hand on top of yours and squeezed it, not exactly what he wanted to do but trying not to heighten your chances of getting sick. “I’ll get the soup put away, do you want to watch a movie before you leave?”
You nod and get up at the same time as him, grabbing the blanket from the floor and stretching out on the couch. You opened up Netflix and scrolled through, deciding on a movie that you’d both seen before in case Poe fell asleep. Poe turned a couple lights off as he came back, taking the blanket from you and settling between you and the couch. Half of his body laid on top of yours, legs tangled together and his cheek resting in the middle of your stomach. His arm laid along your other side, hand curved in so his fingers grazed against your side. You were his body pillow and you didn’t mind one bit. 
Poe was a physically affectionate person. He loved to be touching you in some way, from something simple like holding your hand or throwing your legs across his lap to wrapping you completely around him while you laid in bed together, limbs so intertwined you wouldn’t know where he started and you ended. You weren’t surprised to find out that Poe was extremely cuddly when he wasn’t feeling well. A lot of people got that way. 
You started the movie and brought your hand up to run your fingers through Poe’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as you did. You had learned pretty quick that his hair was a weakness for him, something that both relaxed him and excited him depending on what you were doing with it.
It had only been about a month since your first date but you were so incredibly happy with Poe. You adored everything about him, especially the way he treated you. He didn’t talk to you or see you or treat you like a naive girl in her early twenties. He respected you as an equal, an adult in an adult relationship. It was so early in your relationship, but you couldn’t help but think about a future with him. 
This was the real thing for you. You were young and very well aware that a lot of people your age didn’t get into serious relationships. But you really wanted this to turn into something long-term. You hoped he did too. 
He had your heart; completely, fully.
“You’re staring,” Poe mumbled. You chuckled. 
“I can’t help it. 
He looked up at you, his chin on your stomach. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said quietly, placing a kiss on your stomach over your shirt. You smiled softly down at him.
“Of course,” you said. “If I wasn’t, you’d be curled up in the fetal position starving and dehydrated.”
“I would not.”
“You would too. You’re such a baby when you’re sick.”
Poe nuzzled your stomach, the action making you giggle when his two day old stubble made contact with your skin. You relaxed into him, the hand that was in his hair traveling down to rub soothing circles on his back. Within thirty minutes of the movie starting, you were both fast asleep. 
When you were sick with a cold a few days later, Poe was better prepared to tackle the cold. You slept in his bed all day in his bed and he took care of you the same way you did for him.
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214 notes · View notes
davidcampiti · 3 years
Text
A SCREENPLAY IS NOT A COMIC BOOK SCRIPT
I'm frustrated by writers who hire a comicbook artist then send a screenplay as their script.  My first question to them is, "Are you hiring one of our writers to adapt this into a comic book script?"  Usually they'll respond, "No that's the script to work from."
But it's not.  
Word balloons aren't broken out or numbered, SFX aren't identified, the pacing is wrong, and most panel descriptions are missing, causing the artist and the editor to do twice as much work without a corresponding increase in pay.
Here's a good article from Nick Macari about the differences --
I think you’d be hard pressed to find some work of fiction, some type of writing, that you could NOT turn into a comic. That is to say, you could create a comic from notes on bar napkins, a published novel, heck I bet you could even create a comic using nothing but a movie as the source material.
If you’re making a comic yourself, like literally by yourself, it doesn’t really matter how you do it… only the final product matters. If you have some crazy process that gets you a beautiful finished product, good on ya mate.
But for those writing spec scripts, trying to write for others, or trying to entice others to their project, it pays to create scripts that open doors instead of closing them.
In 2020, there are a million writers writing screenplays and pawning them off as comic scripts.
If you want to be one of those guys… as you were.
But if you actually want to write comics, if you want to be a comic book writer, you should learn how to write an actual comic book script, not how to sell some other script as one.
There are lot of useful technique comics can borrow from screenplays.
For the innocent novice writer, it’s understandable to see some technical execution confusion. But for working and professional writers, knowing what transfers over and what doesn’t separates the riff from the raff.
Before we get into it, let’s put to bed, once and for all, why a straight screenplay script is not a comic script. Here’s why;
Director Production Designer Art Director Costume Designer Cinematographer … Camera Assistant Director of Photography Scenic Artist Set Decorator Storyboard artist … Makeup artist Wardrobe stylist Assistant Director Production Assistant Production Coordinator Production Designer … Script Supervisor Sound Mixer Special Effects Coordinator
oh yeah, and actors.
These are a few of the people involved in a film.
Individual roles dedicated to a specific area of production. In essence, a screenplay can deliver fairly minimal information and it’s someone’s specific job to interpret that information, its context, and otherwise apply their knowledge, experience and skill, to turn that information into some tangible, successful element.
If you think it’s the artist’s job to fill all these roles, you’re crazy… and mean to artists.
Ok, you still here?
Good.
Let’s showcase some specific examples of why a screenplay doesn’t hold up for comics;
THE FRENCH CONNECTION
Drug Dealer I don’t…
Doyle Ever pick your feet in Poughkeepsie?
Drug Dealer What?
Doyle Did you ever pick your feet in Poughkeepsie?
Drug Dealer I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.
Doyle Were you ever in Poughkeepsie?
Drug Dealer No… yeah…
Doyle Did you ever sit on the edge of a bed, take off your socks and stick your fingers between your toes?
Drug Dealer Man, I’m clean.
Doyle You made three sales to your roaches back there. We had to chase you though all this shit and you tell me you’re clean?
Russo Who stuck up the laundromat?
Doyle How about that time you were picking your feet in Pougheepsie?
The drug dealers’ eyes go to Russo in panic, looking for the relief from the pressure of the inquisition.
Russo (in pain) You better give me the guy who got the old Jew or you better give me something or you’re just a memory in this town.
Drug Dealer That’s a lot o’ shit. I didn’t do nothin’.
14 dialogue exchanges, with for all intents and purposes not a single visual description (one minor one toward the end about the dealer’s eyes.). This is likely at least one page of comic with this volume of exchanges and dialogue, and there is literally, nothing cuing the artist as to how this should go down.
THE FRENCH CONNECTION
Mutchie
That’s right, he couldn’t fight legit. One night at the Garden about 1950, ’51—he fought either Jake LaMotta or Gus Lesnevish, I think it was—he took one o’those cream puff punches in the sixth—the laziest left you ever seen—missed him entirely. Down goes Blackjack without even workin’ up a sweat and the whole Garden gets up on its feet and I swear to Christ, everybody starts singin’ “Dance with Me Henry.”
75 words. Way too much for a single panel.
How many ways can you break the dialogue into how many panels?
Is one way to break it up more effective than the others?
Because if it is, and that’s NOT the method you write up, you’re producing a less effective script.
But ultimately, what works in film as a 30 second monologue (doesn’t work in comics), would be far more effective as caption narration over flashback action.
THE EXORCIST
EXTERIOR – IRAQ- NINEVEH- DAY
The old man arrives back at that dig site in a small jeep. As he pulls up two armed guards rush out. When they see who it is the old man gives them a wave and they slowly walk back to there quarters. The old man walks up the rocky mound and sees a huge statue of the demon Pazuzu, which has the head of the small rock he earlier found. He climbs to a higher point to get a closer look. When he reaches the highest point he looks at the statue dead on. He then turns his head as we hear rocks falling and sees a guard standing behind him. He then turns again when he hears two dogs savagely attacking each other. The noise is something of an evil nature. He looks again at the statue and we are then presented with a classic stand off side view of the old man and the statue as the noises rage on. We then fade to the sun slowly setting as the noises lower in volume.
Hey! this has some nice direction, this screenplay stuff is perfect for a comic.
NO.
Let’s break it down;
The old man arrives back at that dig site in a small jeep. As he pulls up two armed guards rush out. When they see who it is the old man gives them a wave and they slowly walk back to there quarters. The old man walks up the rocky mound and sees a huge statue of the demon Pazuzu, which has the head of the small rock he earlier found. He climbs to a higher point to get a closer look. When he reaches the highest point he looks at the statue dead on. He then turns his head as we hear rocks falling and sees a guard standing behind him. He then turns again when he hears two dogs savagely attacking each other. The noise is something of an evil nature. He looks again at the statue and we are then presented with a classic stand off side view of the old man and the statue as the noises rage on. We then fade to the sun slowly setting as the noises lower in volume.
This passage is 15 beats, give or take. One beat a panel, 3-5 panels per page, we’ve got 3-5 pages of comic in this passage alone.
Hang on we’re not done.
If you fill your page with this type of description (you shouldn’t, but let’s say you did), you could get almost double that amount of beats. So one page of screenplay delivering nearly 6-10 pages of comic content!
Tell me, when was the last time someone delivering a screenplay “comic script,” delivered a 2 page script for a complete issue?    Never says I.
BONUS on this example:
Did y’all notice the soundtrack emphasis in this excerpt from the Exorcist script? Of course you can have sound effects in a comic, but no matter how you crack it, comics DO NOT have soundtracks. Relying on film soundtracks in a comic script is a sure fire way to deliver less effective scripts.
BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA
JACK Alright, where’s my truck, Wang? I’m outta here. And my money, too.
WANG Forget about your truck, Jack. You don’t wanna go back there. You’ll have to go through the Wing Kong to get it. It’s insured, right?
JACK Of course it is. But that’s not the point.
WANG The smart man comes back for it later…
JACK The smart man calls the cops!
WANG Cops have better things to do than get killed.
We showed the typical lack of visual description a screenplay gives in the first example. [Screenplays tend to focus on the scene setup, then briefly hit key actions of the scene.] Here we have another example of missing visual description, but I point it out for something more specific–LACK OF EMOTIONAL context.
As I point out in the Writer’s Guide, Emotional content is one of the essential elements of each and every comic panel. So not only do we not have visual cues to support the action in the screenplay, but how are the characters delivering these lines!?
JACK Alright, where’s my truck, Wang? I’m outta here. And my money, too.
How many ways can you say this line?
I can say it pissed. Irritated. Fearful. Sarcastically. Comically.  Those are just a few that pop in my head… and I’m no actor.
Leaving emotional context open to interpretation undermines narrative control–in a big way.
A good, effective scene, could die a horrible misinterpreted death.
For the record, you can use parentheticals in a screenplay. This can give emotional context, like the one from Jack’s first line I omitted to make the example more effective
JACK (pissed off)
But where parentheticals do contain emotional context, you use them in a script sparingly. Just like you don’t tell the director how to do his job filling your screenplay with camera direction, you don’t try to tell the actors how to do theirs. (Remember, the answer to why Screenplays aren’t Comic Scripts, there’s a lot of people, hopefully professionals, bringing their expertise to the table.)
CASABLANCA
Ilsa Your secret will be safe with me. Ferrari is waiting for our answer.
At the bar Ferrari talks to a waiter.
Ferrari Not more than fifty francs though.
Ilsa and Laszlo walk up to him.
Laszlo We’ve decided, Signor Ferrari. For the president we’ll go on looking for two exit visas. Thank you very much.
Ferrari Well, good luck. But be careful. ( a flick of his eyes in the direction of the bazaar) You know you’re being shadowed.
Laszlo glances in the direction of the bazaar.
Screenplays live in movement. Unless you’ve got a static insert of a letter or photo or something, everything is in motion and there is constant change (even if subtle) from micro-second, to micro-second.
While comics work to capture movement (and  there are some tricks), it is ultimately a static medium, locked into showcasing moments frozen in time.
What I explain in the “works in movies not in comics article” is that the constant movement and motion, supported (primarily) by actors, but by the lighting people, the art direction people, director, etc. all gives depth and purpose to every single second of a film.
With all these people doing their job, a screenplay can give super general stage direction, like what we see here in this Casablanca excerpt.
At the bar Ferrari talks to a waiter.
Ilsa and Laszlo walk up to him.
Laszlo glances in the direction of the bazaar.
These trivial actions carry no narrative. They work in film because of performance and motion, which steps in to create narrative.Without performance and motion, a single frame captured from core stage direction translates to ineffective comic panels.
By the way, all the examples I’m giving here, are from solid movies. The big pink elephant in the room when writers deliver “comic screenplay scripts,” is that they assume they know how to write a good screenplay in the first place. Trust me, novice writers rarely do.
There’s a lot of technique and skill in writing a solid screenplay. And if you think a good screenplay causes problems converting to a comic, wait till you try it from a shitty screenplay.
Still thinkin’ screenplay is synonymous with comic script? Well you’re wrong sunshine, but what do I know?
I’m just a non-famous full-time mercenary writer, writing almost exclusively in comics and games for a decade or so. :p
I’ve spent a few hours writing this article, but there are plenty of other examples I haven’t touched on.
I’ll come back and add some more as I think of them in my down time. Maybe eventually when the list is so long it takes you a couple hours to read this article,  y’all get it through your noggins that comics are there own medium which demand the attention and respect of a unique format and writing approach. Something the comic book writers reading this, already know. #justsayin
About the Author — Nick Macari is a full-time freelance story consultant, developmental editor and writer, working primarily in the independent gaming and comic markets. His first published comic appeared on shelves via Diamond in the late 90’s. Today you can find his comic work on comixology, amazon and in select stores around the U.S.  Visit NickMacari.com for social media contacts and news on his latest releases.
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justkending · 4 years
Text
Just Roommates. Chapter 27.
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Series Summary: These two college friends have had years to grow together. Each being the others support system, adventure buddy, movie night partner, and dorky roommates. That is until things start coming to a new light in their relationship. At least for him… Is there something else there? Is it possible? Were these feelings always there?
Pairing: (Modern) Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warning: Fluff, Adulting, sexy-times mentions, language.
Word Count: 2700+
A/N: This is a very simple chapter, but I needed it for the next chapter:) Hope you enjoy!!
Chapter 27:
"That's perfect right there! Thank you!"
Y/N was instructing the movers bringing in the last of their furniture while her and Wanda started unloading items for the kitchen. Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Vision had all pitched in their cars as ways to help with moving the smaller boxes from their flat. Nat and Maria were going to be there within the next hour.
Bucky was out by the cars with Steve bringing in a few more hauls of the boxes.
"So, when's the engagement party?" Steve asked.
"I honestly think Y/N's just going to count this move in party as the engagement party. She's not one for all the formal events. Which I'm perfectly fine with," Bucky smiled, re-adjusting his grip on the larger box as they walked up the porch.
"Really? How are we supposed to get you two gifts if we didn't know this was the engagement party?" Steve asked.
"Don't act like you guys didn't all bring some housewarming gift. I saw you all casually trying to hide your little gift bags and stuff. Horrible hiding by the way," Bucky chuckled as Steve opened the door for to the two of them.
"Housewarming gifts are different from engagement gift," the blonde countered.
"I guess, but we really don't need anything. We just want to hang out with you guys in our new home. That's enough for us both," Bucky shrugged, putting the boxes down and turning to see Wanda and Y/N laughing in the kitchen.
"You know, Bucky, just a year ago you would be all over the material things. Something I think Bonnie would have played a part in and also been ecstatic for," Steve smiled looking at his friend. "The fact that's not even a thought for you shows how lucky you got Buck. You and Y/N both got lucky."
Bucky couldn't looked away from Y/N. She was in her 'moving overalls' as she called them since apparently she had so many they all had a special purpose. Her hair was in a messy bun with a head scarf wrapped keeping her wayward curls out of her face. Failing at at its job, but still cute nonetheless. One of the overall shoulders wasn't hooked and was hanging off her shoulder. She was laughing and pointing something out to Wanda in the living room.
"I did get lucky. The woman has taught me more things than I cared to know existed. And because of that I'm a lot more content and happy with my life." Bucky sent a single nod and smile after making eye contact with Y/N who blushed and winked back at him. "I'm on a high Steve, and I haven't fell from it in 6+ months."
"I feel you brother," Steve said squeezing Bucky's shoulder.
"You feel me?" Bucky said with a small laugh knowing Steve was as single as could be. "How do you-" When Steve's reaction was just a dopey smile as if he were lost in space, Bucky's eyebrows shot up. "You punk! You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me?!"
"Hey, hey. Quiet!" Steve said, putting his hands out in surrender. "I-I just wanted to see how things would go and didn't want anyone to get their hopes up, but... Yeah... There's a girl."
"Steve, that's amazing!" Bucky said, pulling him into a hug. "How long?"
"Remember Dr. Erskine from your charity gala?" Bucky nodded. "One of his shadows for his work happens to be in the geriatric field, and he mentioned the senior home to her. She came by for a visit to see the home for some research and we kinda hit it off." Steve had a blush creeping up his neck and was rubbing the back of it in nerves.
"Well, what's her name? What was she doing research for? How old is she? Blonde or Brunette? Or maybe redhead-" Bucky started spouting out questions.
"Her name is Margaret, but she goes by Peggy. She does different funding for senior homes and is doing research in veterans history. She's trying to write a book right now about different stories of WWII vets and Vietnam vets. She's just a few years older than me," Steve answered with a laugh. "And brunette. The most beautiful brown hair and brown eyes I've ever seen on a woman..."
Bucky watched as Steve once again drifted into a dream world. He knew how that went considering it happened to him practically every time he thought of Y/N.
"I'm happy for you Stevie. And don't worry, I'll keep it on the down low. I know how important the beginning of a relationship is, and with our friend group, I'm not going to chance ruining that," Bucky laughed half joking, half being serious.
"You can tell Y/N. Just  Y/N though," Steve laughed.
"Ok, good. That was my next question..." Bucky grinned.
"Come on. Let's get you moved in," Steve nudged as they went back outside for another load.
___________
"Y/N, this place is going to be beautiful!" Nat said, raising her glass as the group of friends sat in the living room on the new furniture.
There were boxes scattered everywhere in their designated rooms, some opened but not unpacked. Only things out were some coasters for the end tables, and a few accent pillows that came with the couches today.
"It's true. I saw some of the decorations you have boxed up, and just by the looks of it this place is going to be stunning," Maria nodded, taking a sip of her wine.
"How many bedrooms?" Clinton budded in.
"Four including the master. So enough for you guys to crash if you ever get too drunk to leave," Bucky winked wrapping his arms around Y/N's middle on the chair they were snuggled into.
"Careful to make that offer. I may never leave," Sam laughed with a smirk.
"Everyone but you," Bucky said with a fake glare.
"You see how he treats me, Y/N? So mean and for no reason," Sam fake pouted.
"Oh, quit it you two. Always teasing the other until someone actually gets their feelings hurt," Y/N waved them off. "Sam, you are more than welcome to stay here when you want."
"Thank you," he said in a proud tone as if he won.
"Of course after day 3 there will be a rent fee," Y/N added with a smirk of her own as she took a long sip of her drink.
"Hey!" Sam said, choking on his drink a little.
"That's my girl," Bucky laughed.
"So what did you guys decide on for the flat? Are you going to sell it or..." Wanda asked turning to them from where she was sat by Vis.
"I'm going to rent it out for cheap to some college kids. No point in bumping the price when I don't really need the extra money. I remember how hard it was for people to find affordable housing during that time, and that way I can still keep it. It's already paid off," Bucky answered.
"That's a good idea and sweet of you. College me would have jumped for a place to stay like that for cheap," Nat nodded.
"Y/N thought of it. I was going to sell it, but made better sense to just rent it out," Bucky shrugged.
"Ok, enough boring adult talk! Tell us how it happened!" Maria jumped in.
"Gotta be more specific sis," Y/N laughed.
"The proposal! We've all seen the ring! Now give us the details!"
"Ok, ok. You wanna tell it or me?" Y/N turned to Bucky who just smiled and shrugged.
"We both can, but you start."
"Ok," she smiled before turning to the group. "So we came out here just to set up some lights and see the finished product of the house."
The rest of the story later, the girls were ooing and aweing at the sentiment. The men just grinning and sending smirks to Bucky for the romantic kind of man he apparently had been hiding from them.
After some more catching up, Y/N giving the girls room tours as well as sharing her decor ideas, while Bucky took the guys out and showed them the land and what they planned to build, the crew started packing up.
Bucky and Y/N said goodbye to everyone as they packed into their cars, and waved to them until they were out the driveway and headed back to the city.
Y/N let out a sigh and turned back to the house. Bucky followed and wrapped his arms around her as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
"We have a lot of unboxing to do," she said.
"Yep, but we unpacked a lot tonight. Let's save the rest for tomorrow."
"Yeah, ok." She turned back and gave him a hug as she fell into him. "I love you."
"I love you even more Y/N. Let's go to bed."
________
The next night, Bucky got a call from work saying they had a business trip that Stark had set up for the two to travel and speak with a few investors on some new projects. Something that was bound to take place in the merger. It just so happened to come up when the two were moving in and had a shit ton of boxes to unpack.
"How long?" Y/N asked once Bucky got done explaining Starks travel plans, and they unboxed some items for one of the guest rooms.
"Sounds like a couple of weeks. No more than two, hopefully only one," Bucky sighed. "I can see if I can make it shorter. I don't want to leave you to unpack all by yourself, and maybe the investors-"
"What are you talking about?" Y/N laughed, stopping and turning to Bucky from the bedside table she was organizing. "You don't have to make your work shorter just because I need help unpacking some boxes."
"Well, no, but-"
"I know what you're doing B. It's not going to work."
"I'm not doing anything..." Bucky mumbled, looking down at the bed frame he was currently screwing in the last few pieces into place for.
"You don't want to travel with Stark for up to two weeks, and you're using moving as an excuse. Nope. Nuh uh. You're going mister," she said matter a factly as she plugged in the bed side lamp and brushed her hands off.
"And what if I don't want to go cause I don't want to leave you?" Bucky said with a raised eyebrow standing up.
"It's your work Bucky. You're going to have to leave sometimes to take care of business." Her hands were crossed over her chest and hip popped. Bucky places his hands on his hips in an attempt to mock her sass.
"You want me out of the house or something?" he joked.
"No... I've just noticed you've been pushing work to the side, and trying to distract yourself from it and using the house as an excuse."
"I'm not-"
"James Buchanan Barnes. You have a huge, crazy busy, growing, multimillion dollar business to run. You can't keep distancing yourself from it just because you don't like Stark all that much," she said, taking a step closer and Bucky matched her.
He paused. She was right. He had been finding any excuse to work from home, or only going in during times Stark wasn't there. He still was extremely annoyed by the man, and the less time he spent with him the better. On the other hand he had been really excited about living with Y/N and being with her more now that they were engaged. 
Screw knowing each other for years. The man was in the honeymoon phase still, and hadn't even glimpsed outside of the puppy love he had for her.
"But what if I don't want to..." he pouted moving closer and putting his hands on her hips as he pulled her in.
"Sucks. You're the big boss man whether you like it or not," she shrugged, still crossing her arms with a playful gleam in her eyes.
"You're kinda scary. You know that?" Bucky chuckled tilting his head to her.
"When I need to be, yes. That's not new news," she said with a sly smirk. "So on that note. Let's get you packed for your trip."
"But-"
"Nope! No excuses bossman!" she said walking out the door to their room.
_________
Y/N was right. This was a big opportunity for the business, and even though Bucky was getting comfortable spending his time with Y/n in their new house, and as a newly engaged couple, he did need to get out and actually work.
The trip ended up being a week and half. Y/N having to stay behind to handle some housing things like plumbing, gas, land surveying and all that fun stuff. That and she still had her job as a personal trainer/ yoga instructor, so she couldn't just up and leave with only a day's notice for almost two weeks.
The two facetimed and talked every night and day. Y/N showing him new places she had got around to decorating and layouts and ideas for the land.
What Bucky didn't know was that Y/N had the girls over almost every night to help her finish up unpacking and decorating before he came home. Sometimes Steve and Sam too if she needed some more heavy duty help.
"Y/N, this is all so stunning. He's going to be so surprised when he gets home," Nat smiled as they all stood looking at the newly decorated home.
"Really? You think? It's not too much is it?" she questioned bringing her hand to her chin as she examined the room they were currently in.
"He's going to love it Y/N. Anything you do he loves, but this is crazy impressive," Steve added as he packed up his tool box. "You ever thought about interior design?"
"That's what Bucky said," Y/N laughed. "And now that I have so many people asking me that," she looked at Maria, Wanda, and Nat who had also been commenting on it all day, "It's starting to sound like a possible fun side-job."
"Well, I'll pay you to come revamp my apartment if you do anything close to this," Maria grinned, taking a swig from a beer bottle.
"You got it," Y/N laughed. "Ok, I need to go pick him up from the airport in about an hour, so I'm going to go get changed and do a few last minute things. Thanks again you guys for coming out here and helping."
"Anytime! Maria and I love the scenic drive here, and it gives us a chance to see your fucking gorgeous home," Nat smirked bumping her hip with Y/N.
"That and you know you can always call if you need a handy man when Bucks not here," Steve added, picking up the tool box.
"Thanks for that Stevie. I appreciate you," she said giving him a small peck on the cheek.
"Yeah, I'm just here for the free alcohol," Wanda teased as she downed the rest of her beer. "Helps when Nat's driving."
The crew laughed at the red head and started heading for the door.
"Let us know what he thinks! And when you guys are ready, we can have a housewarming party since it's all done!" Nat shouted as she walked to the car.
"Will do! Love you guys! Drive safe!" Y/N shouted and waved from the porch as they loaded up and made their way down the long driveway.
Once they were out of sight, Y/N turned to look at the finished product of their home. The lights on the porch were hung and turned on. The inside was lit up and bringing life and a sense of comfort to it.
"How did I get so lucky?" Y/N sighed as she thought about the life that was to come with her special person. All she had to do was pick him up from the airport, and yet another milestone would be made.
(Ok pictures are coming next chapter!) 
Just Roommates:
@starfirerules​ @buckys-blunders​ @alexxcorona113​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @vrgelivvvv​ @nighttwingg​ @firefly-in-darkness​ @mizzzpink​ @poppunkdork​ @nerdygirlwithacrush​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @ellaenchanted91​ @sebbbystaaan​
Marvel Tags:
@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @zeilenkrieg​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​
My Lovelies forever:
@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravic​ @traceyaudette​ @kakakatey​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @snffbeebee​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​ @naomi02hook​ @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​​ @gh0stgurl​​ @cs-please​​ @carls1022​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @carls1022​​ @anise-d-castle6​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​
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