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madraleen · 3 years

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Any Way The Wind Blows (Rainbow Rowell) – 4/5 stars. More arbitrary stars under the cut, and jot-it-down-as-it happens commentary.

5 stars for Simon, Baz, and SnowBaz. 5 stars for the Salisburys, would recommend for a long lost family. 4 stars for Penny and Shepard. 3 stars for friendship shenanigans. 2,5 stars for Agatha, my sweet summer child why. 2,5 stars for the non SnowBaz-related conflicts, because huh? 2,5 stars for plot, because how did we get here? ??? stars for pace.

Commentary

-Lady Ruth!! We have an uncle! Simon, let’s find Jamie! -Simon, for fuck’s sake, answer the man’s texts, he deserves that much. Break my heart with unanswered texts, why don’t you. -I know this must happen. I know they must separate and breathe. I know. But it hurts. -Where is Agatha? I need her and her not giving two shits about any of this, I’m overwhelmed. -I don’t want Baz to find Simon. Somehow, I think that’ll be worse. Leaving him with a note is the worst thing (well, second worst next to saying nothing, I guess). -Lmfao, never has art in a book scared me so. A wand? Is it Baz’s? Why is it bent? WhAT DOes It ALL MEaN! -SIMON. I love you so much, Simon, please, use your words, even if it’s to give him closure, a reason, something. It’s hard, but Baz deserves it and you deserve it, please, love. -This is exactly how I’d pictured Baz reacting to Simon breaking up with him. -“Use your words,” he sneers. (That’s right, that’s my boy). SIMON, you’ve just cut out my heart and stomped on it, ey. -I understand Simon, but I also stuttered out cries when he said it’s not working between them because he’s not a magician. Baz, I’m with you, I support you, I love you. -I love that Baz’s brain works sharply even as he is in distress. - I do believe they’re endgame, so I’m super excited to see HOW, after all this. -“I never thought I’d be the first thing you ever gave up on.” Bazzzz, my man, the shade, I love you! -I expected the breakup in the beginning so that we’d have time to build up to being a thing again, but oh man. I understand Simon looking at Baz and only seeing who HE isn’t and what HE lost, but oh man. -Agatha is the best, yes Agatha, bring us relief! -Oomph, I’m so sad. How do we fix this, Baz is completely broken and Simon completely lost and overwhelmed. -Is there an overarching plot? There’s so many things – the goblins, Fiona’s rummaging, the curse, missing Jamie, maybe NowNext. Who’s the main antagonist? -Honestly, I just want to read about fierce Agatha and splendid Shepard rn, everything else hurts. -Please remind me henceforth to refer to vampires as “sexy bedbugs.” Thank you, Baz, I’m with you, I love you. -I absolutely adore Baz’s relationship with Daphne and his siblings. I’ve loved it since the glimpses in Carry On. -I think Fiona is seeing Nicodemus, I’ve believed so even before picking up the book. -Simon Snow is on our door?!?! What’s happening, what is happening! I’m getting whiplash! I was not prepared, wait, help! -“This is our soundtrack now.” Omfg, I love Baz. -But damn, I love Simon, I love his voice. If it all goes well, I can’t wait to reread the book with the necessary peace of mind to soak it all in in its proper context. -Lmfao, Simon says, "I came to tell you something" and I am honestly scared to turn the page and see what it is. This is going splendidly. -Baz slams the door on Simon’s face?! I fucking gasped and clutched my peals!!! Oh M Y GOD. -“I never believed in us”??? I understand what he’s saying, but oh my God, why have you come, Simon, why are you here, this hurts! -The way they CRY differently, Baz more restrained and Simon just letting the tears fall and licking them as needed, I absolutely adore it. -Where is this going, Simon, we’re all crying, are you happy now? (I know you’re not, I’m sorry, I love you, this is just hard). -This part is really just me hitting the book and biting my hand and muttering, “We’re fine, we’re fine, we’re fine,” with the occasional cry of “RAINBOWWWW.” -Simon is saying I love you Simon is saying I love you Simon is saying – AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I gasped. So hard. Deep breaths. We’re fine. It’s fine. -I love this “trying” so much. I love my boys so much. -My heart is whole, my crops are watered, flowers are blooming, birds are singing, Simon and Baz are sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. -Simon is relieved that he’s still with Baz, I’m relieved that he still has wings, all is right. -“I just want to be with you,” I say. “And this is where we are now. I’m a broken-down mess, and you’re a rat-drinking monster.” Poetry. POETRY! -Shepard, you’re all I

need, these people are too much for me. -Reading fanfiction of what. Reading fanfiction of what, Penny. -Oh shut up, Shepard saved her chalks. -We should go to the Mage’s estate. -I love Simon. He has this pureness. -“Simon took the napkin, then licked the butter off his arm.” Yes, Simon, I love you. -Catch me at 1am making love oaths to Simon. Really, I can’t blame Baz, it’s just a Simon thing. -Omfg hold me, we’re going to Lady Ruth’s! -Low-key loving that the Salisburys and the Pitches are on good terms already. Love that the boys are hitting it off with Lady Ruth. -Smith-Richards is promising people magic? Oh. Oh, this took a turn. I have zero idea where any of this is going. -Okay, hello, I love Lady Ruth. -Obviously I’m more invested in Baz and Simon than in anyone else, but every time there’s a Baz or Simon chapter, I’m actually petrified at what might come. -Smith is shady, I don’t like him. -Baz really be serving looks in this book. -“I would have liked to have had you for a friend here.” Oh my bb boy Simon, that is so soft. -Oh shut up, Baz left a rose for Lucy. -WILL there be an emergency? Will Baz drink Simon’s blood? Why are we dwelling? -Simon, talk to Penny, my love. I know we’re doing the thing where you’re both recovering from your co-dependency, but seriously, love, talk to her. -Come on, Shep, kiss the girl!! Oomph, they’re so cute. -Oooh, we’re doing the deep cut, we’re doing Philippa, we’re tying off threads, nice! Also ouch. But nice. -NICODEMUS, called it. -Yayyy, the gang is reuniting. But who are we fighting? Who’s the antagonist? Why are the goats leaving? -Baz has a key?! Whoa, Simon! -Well, fuck indeed about your magic, Simon, but did you try calling the sword? -"So no one is cursed…” “Just you, babe.”Ahahahahaha! Sorry. -Will a goblin attack the flat? What was up with the goblin back at the beginning? -“Mmm,” he mmms. POETRY! -I’m sorry, Simon, you have a key to a hidden waterfall?! Care to elaborate? -Baz, my love, let Simon take care of you for once, it’s okay. He wants to do it. He can do it. -“I love you,” he says. “It’s good.” Awww, my bb Simon. -What do you mean immune to magic? What’s happening? -Oh wait, he’s culling the less powerful mages? Is that it? -I see you lying, Simon Snow. -Wait, but why is Simon immune? Is it because he’s a dead spot? -It IS a culling. -…What, that’s it? We’re just arresting Smith on a rooftop? That’s it? -IS Simon a dead spot? And if he is, does that mean that the magic will return? What does it all mean??? -But how did Lucy die??? -“y” S I M O N you’re a texting icon, I love you. -Baz, my man, I’m with you as usual, I don’t want the wings and tail gone either. -I have ten pages left and I’m hysterically hopeful and scared, with the amount of threads that are still loose. -But... a family sword? -Kinda disappointed that Simon didn’t get his magic back, but it’s a bold move, I respect it. -Agatha gets the epilogue?? That’s a choice.

#any way the wind blows #any way the wind blows spoilers #snowbaz #simon snow #book commentary #spoilers

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tirednotflirting · 4 years

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does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?

baby’s first au whaaaaaat?

special thank you to @clumsyclifford for linking the prompt list i got this idea from! this was the prompt (it was a whole slew of celebrity AUs: “wait, you’re supposed to be DEAD and i just recognized you at the grocery store, turns out you just didn’t want to be a celebrity anymore” au. bella is also writing one from this list and it’s one of my most favorite lashton things i have ever read, highly recommend, 10/10, i could yell about hello, hello for ages omg

also here is the ao3 link if that’s your preferred way to read :)

There are few things that bring Luke as much joy as his Friday night (well, Saturday morning, really) grocery trips.

He had started working the night shift at the nurses’ desk at the children’s hospital about a year prior after graduating. He had found the job through the friend of a friend of a friend who was a nurse herself and mentioned the job needed filling fast. Luke had never really considered the idea of a night job but ultimately the work wasn’t all too bad. He made coffee every couple of hours (he made an effort to never let the pot empty which got him lots of smiles from the nurses) and every once in awhile Lina, the 6 year old cancer patient whose room was just around the corner from the brightly colored desk, would wander out to ask him to check for monsters under her bed and to be tucked back in. It was pretty simple (and heartwarming) work.

However, staying up through the night for 5 nights a week made it damn near impossible to be awake during the day on his weekends off. Luckily enough for Luke, he had friends like Michael who tended to play video games all night despite working through the day (he stopped questioning how he managed it a long time ago) and his favorite grocery store was a 24 hour location.

The first time Luke had come to do his shop at around 2am, he had felt a little spooked by the parking lot and eerie silence in between Top 40 songs that played over the intercom in the store. But he soon grew to find the general atmosphere pretty calming and he made friends with the nighttime stocker (a guy named Calum who also never saw himself doing nighttime work but here they were) and it became something he really looked forward to on his Saturday (very early) mornings.

He arrives at the store just a bit after 1am. He just finished ‘a late breakfast’ (he still always finds himself giggling at the concept of eating meals at opposite points in the day as everyone else despite the obvious logic to the schedule) and has a list tucked into the pocket of his sweats. It’s a little chilly out so he grabs the first sweater he sees on the backseat - a blue cardigan - since he knows they also keep the store pretty cool in the night to make sure everybody stays awake through their shift.

As he grabs one of the smaller carts as he heads into the store, he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulls out his list first and drops it into the baby seat of the cart and then grabs his phone. Luke’s faced with the wild selfie Michael set for his profile picture and he rolls his eyes as clicks the icon to answer the call.

“What’s up, Mikey?” he answers as he starts pushing the cart in the direction of the produce section.

“You at the store yet?” Luke can hear the clicking of the buttons on the controller in Michael’s hands.

“Yeah, just got in. You need anything?”

Michael then rambles off a short list that Luke jots down into his notes app since he doesn’t have a pen or anything with him. He assures his friend he’ll come drop off the odd collection of snacks and things (“They have to be the dinosaur shaped ones. I swear Luke they do taste better.”) once he finished up his shop of real groceries.

Luke wanders around the produce, picking out what fruits and veggies he wants to have around for the week. He takes his time finding the apples without the bruises, bananas that will be the perfect amount of ripe by midweek, some leafy bunches for the salad he’s been assigned to bring for the breakroom potluck on Tuesday. He’s checking out some strawberries that he thinks might be nice to toss into the mix too when a human sized figure appears in the corner of his vision.

It’s a man around his size (in similar cozy clothes) facing away from him. He’s got hair the opposite color to Luke’s bleached blonde. His messy black curls are pulled back into a tiny bun that mirrors Luke’s own. The other man is broad and has a tattoo of a bird across the back of his neck, just barely visible above the collar of a faded blue sweatshirt. The tattoo is one that seems oddly familiar to Luke, as though it belongs to someone he knows. The man begins to wander off toward the bakery section of the store though and Luke shrugs off the recognition, figuring it might be someone he’s seen around a waiting room in the hospital at some point. He settles on some strawberries and starts pushing his cart in the direction of the deli and meats.

As he stares at the different packages of chicken and breakfast sausages, he can’t help but think back on the man he saw though. There was something achingly familiar about him, and more than just the tattoo. He can’t shake the thought for some reason and finds himself jumping in surprise when he feels his phone buzz once again in his pocket.

He doesn’t even have to look to the screen to know that it’s Michael calling again to add something to his list. In fact, he happens to even know the items that his friend failed to mention the first time he called. Luke presses the accept button and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Froot Loops and the character shaped fruit snacks?”

“The superhero ones, if they have them please!”

Luke continues around the store, grabbing all the bits from his list (and Michael’s 12 year old boy list) and eventually lands in the dairy section. He grabs the yogurt he’s been mixing granola into for breakfast lately and some butter for the cookies his mom sent him a recipe for. Only thing left in terms of food is cereal milk and coffee milk (2% and oat, respectively, of course). When he looks up from the list to make his way over to the fridges containing the plethora of milks, he is faced once again with the familiar stranger.

Except this time, as he catches just the briefest glimpse of the man’s face, of his hazel eyes and strong jawline, he realizes this isn’t a stranger. Very much not a stranger. It’s Ashton Irwin, the host of at least three of those reality dating shows he forces Michael to watch with him on the weekends since he can’t watch them when they air live on Monday and Tuesdays.

Or, well, he was the host of all of those shows until about two months ago.

Because Ashton Irwin has been dead for two months due to a freak heart attack while on vacation on some remote island.

Luke glances away from him for a moment in a panic. Has he completely lost it? Have the late nights finally gotten to him and he’s starting to actually see things that don’t exist? Was Calum right all along and the store really is haunted? (Though it's a little lost on him why a star TV host would want to haunt a grocery store. And not even a good one like that Whole Foods in Downtown.)

Then he realizes that perhaps he was just wrong. (Though now that he thinks about it, he very much remembers liking an Instagram picture of that tattoo on Ashton Irwin’s account a couple years back.) He’s far enough down the aisle from him that he can chance a look at the man without being caught. So, slowly, Luke turns again just slightly to look toward him.

It’s the hair that left him not immediately making the recognition. His hair has been dyed black, a stark contrast to his signature dark red but definitely a change that likely doesn’t draw as much attention. The sweatshirt he’s paired with black skinny jeans is pretty baggy and it’s a damn shame because Luke knows he has the arms of a god.

(Something Luke knows from the tabloid covers he glances at from time to time at the pharmacy and the summer version of the show that Ashton hosted, of course. He most definitely has never searched up his name + ‘biceps’ before. Never.)

But despite the obvious attempt to match the look and aesthetic of ‘2am grocery shopper’ he's still very unmistakably Ashton Irwin.

As Luke grapples with this new knowledge that apparently this person he thought was dead is not dead and also apparently goes to the same grocery as him, he fails to notice that Ashton has turned to face him and that he is still staring at him in shock.

Very quickly, Ashton’s face comes to mirror Luke’s expression and he’s rushing toward the blonde in a state of terror.

“Please don’t say anything,” he gasped in a hushed voice. The accent similar to his own that Luke has grown used to hearing on his TV sticks out some in his panicked words.

“How? I - uh? Are you,” Luke trips over every syllable that comes out of his mouth as he attempts to let his brain wrap around the situation. “Are you a ghost?”

The feared look of the black haired man actually fades some as he lets a quiet giggle escape (a very cute giggle, if Luke is being honest). “I’m, uh, not a ghost. No. Though I guess that does kind of accurately explain what I’m trying to be.”

Now Luke is even more confused. Based on the statement, he obviously wasn’t making up all of the tabloid stories he had seen about Ashton dying but something isn’t adding up to the present moment. “I don't-”

“Listen, if you’re going to go tell the press, can you at least give me like,” he glances down at his phone screen displaying the time. “2 hours to get back out to my friend’s place where I’ve been hiding?”

It’s now Luke’s turn to laugh. “You do realize if I go to some paparazzi or something and tell them I saw deceased Ashton Irwin wandering around my grocery store trying to decide between hazelnut and cashew milk they would just laugh in my face, right?”

The statement causes Ashton to look down at his hands to the milks in his hands. He sighs down at the cartons before tossing both of them in the cart. “Guess you’re not really wrong.”

“Is someone pulling some kind of long-winded, over the top prank on me right now? Am I being punk’d?” Luke asks, his head tilting some in a way that would normally have Michael making fun of him for the child-like behavior. “Because I know for a fact that I am not worth that much effort.”

The questions have Ashton smiling a bit again and Luke suddenly finds himself wanting to say increasingly dumb things so long as it’ll keep the hazel-eyed man smiling. “No, no. Not at all. I just,” his smile falters some, leaving his lips still turned up but his eyes drop some. “I started to get a little sick of the world and the world started getting a bit sick of me, I think.” Luke wonders if Ashton knew just how heavy his words feel.

He scoffs then, as if hearing Luke’s silent question. “Wow, sorry that was really dramatic,” Ashton shakes his head a bit before continuing. “Hi, I’m Ashton.”

Luke looks down to the tanned arm being stretched out toward him. He lifts a hand from his shopping cart and wraps it around Ashton’s. “I’m Luke.”

Ashton brightens again as he shakes his hand. “Well, Luke, you’re the first person other than my current landlord of sorts that I’ve come across since literally dying in the eyes of the media. So I guess I owe you an explanation? Since it seems like you’re familiar with that media viewpoint?”

Ashton moves to start pushing his cart in the direction of another area of the store but peers over his shoulder and gestures with his head to follow him. Luke quickly reaches into the fridge on his left to grab the rest of his dairy before catching up to him. “Well, you really don’t owe me anything. I don’t know you beyond what I see of you on my TV screen,” Luke wonders then if maybe he should have played it a bit cooler and not told the cute, presumed dead TV star that he watches his shows. “But I am a bit confused by whatever is going on and would like to hear anything you’re willing to share.”

“Cute and polite,” Ashton muses, avoiding Luke’s eye as he continues forward toward the packaged food aisles. “You’re already checking boxes, Luke.”

Some kind of intelligible noise falls from Luke’s lips as he feels a blush rush up to his cheeks because he’s flirting with him. Ashton only laughs and starts his story.

“Well Luke, you seem to be aware of what I did for a living up until about 2 months ago. I’ve been doing this job for like, about 5 years and before every new season of anything, there’s all these big network and programming meetings about production and filming and such. And every single time, I get hounded by our ratings people because I apparently don’t do enough to instigate and promote drama. Like my contract was getting threatened like three times a year because rather than trying to make peoples’ lives miserable, I just want to help them fall in love.

“And so at this particular meeting, about two and half months ago, just before the ‘accident’,” he punctuates the word with air quotations. “I got the boot. Ratings from the previous season were down by 3% and all of the uppers decided it was because of my congeniality and not the fact that the guy they chose for the season was a complete dick.

“So that night I have to host the red carpet stuff for an awards show. And I’m talking with all these glittery people who also do TV work and it suddenly hits me, harder than it ever has before, that every single person I’m speaking to would never even bother to smile in my direction if they didn’t know who I was. If I was just a plain old guy, the kind of guy I was back in school before I signed on to the shows, they probably wouldn’t pay me a single bit of kindness. So I decided, right then, as I was talking to some Grey’s Anatomy actor, that I wanted to get out.”

He turns into the chip aisle then, and Luke follows close behind. “You decided you wanted to step away from television and your first idea was to fake your own death?”

Ashton laughs as he reaches for a couple tubes of Pringles. “It was more than that,” he starts as he tosses the tubes into the cart. “I wanted to escape celebrity all together, not just the world of television. A friend from back home that I would trust with my life had this cabin kinda out in the middle of nowhere in this forest and he only ever uses it for like, two weeks in the summer and said I could camp out there until I find a way to get back to Australia undetected to live at the house I bought over there a few years ago. My manager helped with all the media stories and such. And two months later, here we are.”

“That’s insane,” Luke shakes his head as he speaks, reaching for his own tube of Pringles as he realizes it's been quite awhile since he got his hand stuck in a Pringle tube so why not?

“The journey is a bit wild, I will agree, Luke, but the life I’m living right now is much more enjoyable than faking it every damn day.”

Luke shakes his head (and ignores the fluttery feeling he keeps getting when Ashton says his name). “No, I mean it’s insane that I am somehow the first person that’s caught you.”

Ashton’s brows perk up at the statement. “Oh yeah no, I’m also pretty surprised by that. Figured I would have had to pay off a lot of people by now to keep them quiet.”

They’ve both pushed their carts up toward the self check out how and start scanning away at their items. Luke looks up halfway through his cart and catches Calum giving him a look from a little ways away. He’s got a suggestive look on his face. But thankfully it's one that reads much more as “ohhh Luke is talking to a boy” rather than “ohhh there’s a celebrity in my store”. Plus Luke knows Calum wouldn’t be the type to go rushing to media people to out the presence of dead celebrities in his grocery store at 2am so he chooses to subtly flip him off before reaching for the next item in his basket.

They’re both about done scanning and bagging up their groceries when Luke starts to realize he really...doesn’t want this little bit of time he’s spent with Ashton to end yet. And given his lack of normal human interaction during daylight hours as of recently, he’s a bit out of practice on the whole asking someone to extend a conversation beyond the grocery store aisles. He drops his bags back into his cart to roll back out to his car and as he watches Ashton perform the same action the words just sort of leap from his mouth. “Hey do you, uh, have anywhere to be right now?”

Ashton gently places a bag containing some produce into his cart before turning to Luke, a teasing smirk resting on his lips. “Luke, it’s 2am and I’m presumed dead to everyone but about 4 people,” he catches that Luke still looks somewhat nervous (something he would later reflect on to tell him just how damn cute it was) and continues. “So I’ve got just about all the time in the world.”

“Want to come to mine for lunch? We could make something and watch a show or keep chatting or something?” he asks, tentatively.

He watches as Ashton’s face shifts a bit, obviously confused by some part of what Luke’s just said. “Why would you ask if I’m free now if you were wanting to make lunch plans?”

Luke realizes his request requires some explanation for people that live during normal human hours. “Oh, because I have lunch at about 3am. Because I work nights. So right now feels like,” he pauses a moment, trying to decide and calculate what time this would have been for him before taking his job. “It feels like about 11am-ish for me right now. So close to lunch time.”

They’re out in the parking lot now and Ashton just stops for a moment beside Luke in the middle of the lot and looks up at him for a moment, a smile spreading across his face, his dimples, ones that Luke had grown used to seeing on his TV screens over the last few years, increasingly deepen. “Lunch sounds nice.”

Ashton follows Luke back to his apartment (and to the brief stop he makes at Michael’s where he ignores the comments about the man parked in the car behind his) and they park in the garage, carrying their groceries in their arms up to his unit. They each deposit their cold and frozen items into Luke’s fridge and he pours them each a glass of water as Ashton takes a seat at his kitchen counter. Luke sips from his glass as he watches Ashton glance around his kitchen and living room.

“I try to keep it cozy,” Luke explains as he reaches into a cabinet for a couple pots and pans. He migrates over to his sink to fill a pot with water to boil. “Needed it when I first started the working at night thing and I needed to find a way to force myself to sleep when the sun was up. Gonna make some pasta and chicken thing, that cool?”

Ashton smiles warmly from his place at the counter. “Sounds lovely. You mind if I use that?” he points to the opposite corner of the space where a black Keurig machine sits. “I don’t often do this whole living like normal in the night thing.”

Luke laughs at the comment on being nocturnal. “Go for it.”

He turns back to the pan of chicken, chopping it up and moving it around some before turning to a different burner and tossing in a few things to make a garlic sauce. He can make maybe two things that qualify as meals rather than just large portioned snacks so he’s opted for one of those since he so rarely has company.

“What do you do then that’s got you up all through the night?” Ashton asks as he opens the cabinet above the coffee machine pulling down a bright yellow mug. The color suits him, Luke thinks. “You work in tech support or something?”

“Thankfully very far off from that,” Luke starts with a giggle. “I’m absolute garbage with computers. I work the nurses’ desk for the recovery wing at one of the children’s hospitals. It’s a lot of checking and distributing charts, ordering things for the nurses, talking to parents when they want more logistical updates on their child’s care there. Sometimes I get to help entertain the kids who get to go out and about. Yesterday I let them request songs to play for awhile and then we had show and tell.”

“God, you’re like something out of some cheesy movie, huh?”

Luke turns to see Ashton smiling up at him, his arms crossed at his chest as he leans against the counter to face him, the coffee machine whirring to life behind him. Luke bites at his cheek to avoid an entirely too large smile to spread across his face though he knows he can’t help the blush painting it’s way across his nose and cheeks. “It’s a good job. Even worth the whole graveyard shift situation.”

Ashton grimaces at the end of Luke’s reply. “Night shoots used to kick my ass. There is nothing in the world more terrifying than slightly drunk women in hot pink crying over some complete asshole rejecting them after a cocktail party at 2am.”

“Was there anything about it that you liked, though?” Luke asks after he turns down the heat to let the sauce simmer for a bit. He watches Ashton stir some milk into his mug that he retrieved from the fridge.

“Of course,” Ashton answers quickly, in a tone that projects honesty rather than just being used to answering the question. “I got to travel to places I would have never made it to otherwise, meet people that I considered heroes growing up, provide for myself and my family. And for a while that’s why I just dealt with the bull shit. But I started to realize I was working my ass off for all of that good stuff I was getting. That I didn’t have to deal with things in exchange for those things that were mine because of my work.”

Luke isn’t quite sure what to respond to that. Because he’s right, the logic is obvious and sound on all of it. As he’s trying to formulate a response though, Ashton cuts in again. “Though I guess maybe that’s a pretty privileged logic I-”

“No, don’t,” Luke cuts him off. “You shouldn’t justify the unfair parts of your job like that. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your own values about the way people should be interacting with one another for the sake of drama for good TV ratings. You don’t owe anything to anyone who doesn’t actually give a shit about you as a person. I’ve known you for like two hours and it already just baffles me why someone wouldn’t want to know who you are behind the stage makeup and scripted lines.”

He watches as Ashton lifts the mug to his lips, pink cheeks peeking out from each side (he wonders if the change in color comes from the heat of the mug or the words he’s just said). He lowers the mug and his lips lift into a lazy smile. “See now I’m starting to wonder if I’m actually dead. Your kindness is angelic.”

Luke hasn’t a single clue how to respond to that so he gives the hazel-eyed man a small smile before returning to his saucepan. Ashton shifts the conversation then, asking Luke more about his job before telling him about the gardening he’s taken up since being stuck out in the middle of nowhere on his own. He shows Luke pictures of his herb garden and points out each one as he names it. As he starts putting food into bowls, Luke offhandedly mentions how he’s always wanted to grow lavender but tending to plants when you sleep through the sunshine makes gardening difficult. He drops a fork into a bowl and when he turns to hand it to Ashton, Luke watches as he hits the “Add to Cart” option on an Amazon page for lavender seeds. His heart does some kind of funny rhythm as butterflies burst in his chest. Their eyes meet as Ashton locks his phone and looks up to him.

“Pretend you didn’t see that, I want it to be a surprise,” Ashton whispers between the two of them, his right eye winking up at Luke as he accepts the bowl.

“So this is going to be happening again then?” Luke muses as he grabs his own bowl and walks toward the living room. Ashton follows behind him. “I should plan for future early morning lunches with a dead celebrity?”

“I know it comes with some amount of risk for both of us but,” Ashton looks down toward his feet, scratching at the back of his neck as he tries to come up with the right way to phrase things. Luke turns to face him as he hears the hesitation in his voice. “I really want to see you again. This has been nice. And not just because you’re the first person I’ve spoken to other than my mother in two months. I...want to know you, Luke.”

Luke smiles tiredly, feelings the earliness of the hour in a way that he hasn’t in quite some time. He watches as Ashton’s fingers fidget with a string hanging from the end of his sweatshirt, obviously nervous about what he’s just admitted to the man he’s only just really met, still. Luke reaches forward for his hand, tangling their fingers together as he squeezes his palm against Ashton’s. It feels nice to be close to someone like this. It’s something he didn’t realize he was missing out on while only really living in the night.

“I think you’re worth the risk, Ashton.”

He watches as Ashton looks down to their intertwined hands, Luke’s eyes following to the same place. His hands are pale from the lack of much sunlight other than what he gets at sunset when he goes out to take his walk after waking. Ashton’s is warm and tanned, likely from the sun he gets from days in his secret garden hideout. He barely knows this man, apart from the apparently highly curated version he’s seen on screen. He wants to know the Ashton that speaks like sunshine and loves love enough to lose his job over. He wants to know the steps he knows he’s skipping in his story right now that led to him faking his own death. So it’s no surprise that the next words have him smiling bright enough to light up the early morning they found each other in.��

“I think we’re worth the risk, too.”

#lashton #lashton fic #i honestly have been staring at this for so long i can't even tell if i like it anymore #i had to end it in domestic fluff i am SORRY #i have no idea how to end fics otherwise #this is Such a funny au though #like there were def better ways to do it but it was fun #esp for never having given AU a shot before #wow we're rambling in the tags anyone surprised? anyone?#also almost made the title a line from when the day met the night by patd but decided against it #i picked this title on the 1d anniversary and i feel the need to honor My Men

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sweetiejunie · 4 years

Text

Tonight

Summary: who would have guessed one of the best nights of your life would start with a stranger

Genre: fluff

Beomgyu x reader (ft. Soobin)

a/n: inspired by one of my favourite songs- ‘dont say goodnight’ by hot chelle rae

=====================================

Your pov:

Dressed in black skinny jeans, a fitted shirt and heels, you sat at the corner of the bar, watching as your friends were busy on the dance floor. Surrounded by sweaty bodies and horny men trying to get their attention by grinding on them. The music is all nineteen nineties but they were dancing like it was a jive, twisting, turning, holding hands as they change sides. They were all grins, and even though they looked like idiots, they didn't care.

Scoffing at the sight, you tried to recall why you agreed to go to the club at on a friday in the first place. It was nearly 1am and you were bored out of your mind. You were never one for overly crowded places or deafeningly loud music. You could always just leave, but you had already paid the, not so cheap, entrance fee and leaving your two intoxicated friends on their own just didn’t seem so responsible.

As you sat watching— well, more like babysitting by this point— you figured you could at least make your time here worth it by ordering a drink. You signalled for the bar tender, who seemed to be occupied conversing with someone. Someone dressed in jeans, converse, a plain shirt and a bomber jacket. Nothing too extravagant, you didn’t even notice him at first. But for some reason, something about him drew you in.

Other than the cute guy the bar tender was talking to, you were lucky, almost the entire club was on the dance floor, leaving the bar nearly deserted.

Making his way to take your order, you read his name tag. Choi soobin. Hmm, cute name. He had tousled dark brown hair, thick and lustrous. He was incredibly tall and well built, looking extremely handsome in his uniform. Yet, there was something about him that was still endearing.

“How can i help you?” Taking your order, giving you a smile.

‘Bunny’ you thought, the moment you saw the adorable way the side of his lips tugged upwards, exposing his front teeth.

“Hi, could i get a gin and tonic?” You ordered, extremely grateful for the wall of glass separating the dance floor and the bar. You had no intentions of screaming for the entire night.

“Classy, coming right up m’lady,” shooting you a wink before going back to make your drink.

His voice was like nothing I've ever heard before. It was smooth, like butter. His tone was as deep as the sun at midnight.

But okay, I’m getting off topic. This story isn’t about the undeniably hot bar tender you met for a brief 5 seconds. This story is about the stranger across the bar that you had yet to meet.

Coming back with your drink, soobin accompanied it with something you didn’t expect to hear.

Reaching for your wallet, you pulled out your card, ready to hand it to soobin to pay for the drink. Instead, he held up a hand, stopping you.

“No need to pay. Courtesy of that guy,” directing your gaze over to the boy sitting at the other end of the bar, who was now busy on his phone.

“Hm, tell him thanks for me.”

Next thing you knew, the cute boy was approaching you. Your heart beat increasing each step he took closer, making your mind race.

Beomgyus pov:

He sat at the bar, waiting for his best friend, soobin, to get off his shift. They were supposed to hang out for the night but soobin had been called to fill in for a coworker. Joining him on his shift, beomgyu figured getting a few drinks on the house would have been enough of an apology.

Sitting at the bar, beomgyu was engulfed in utter boredom. Soobin had been preoccupied cleaning the counter, leaving beomgyu alone to scan the rest of the club. The scene of desperate men hitting on women digusted him. He couldn’t understand what was so attractive about rubbing their bodies against strangers.

Starting to blow raspberries, he looked for anything remotely interesting. That’s when loveliest girl he had ever seen stopped him in his tracks. He sat staring at her, bemused, as time seemed to congeal, to stand still for a moment. The way she sat there, her hair effortlessly styled, her chin resting in her hand, the way she stared into, what he assumed to be, nothingness. There wasn’t anything too amazing about her, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Maybe it was the fact that she was the only one not dressed in an inappropriately tight dress and stripper heels.

“She’s pretty huh,” Soobin suddenly stated, knocking beomgyu out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Beomgyu replied, diverting his attention to soobin.

“Don’t pretend. You’re practically drooling like you’ve just seen your first meal in 10 years. I saw her come in with some of her friends just now. Doesn’t seem like she’s having much fun though. You should go talk to her,” wiggling his eyebrows at beomgyu.

“Yeah, no way,” he spat.

Before soobin could protest, he noticed you trying to call the bar tender

“Hey, go do your job.”

“Fine. But this conversation isn’t over,” soobin nagged before making his way over to you.

Beomgyu watched as his friend went up to you, taking your order and gave you a wink as he walked away. Unexpectedly, soobin’s playful act enraged him a little. He didn’t know why and he was afraid to find out.

Noticing how soobin shot him a look, Beomgyu figured his face was an open book and probably said it all. Picking up his phone, he tried to distract himself. But to be honest, this act was just a complete boondoggle.

After soobin was done fulfilling your order, he went back to beomgyu, “you owe me $8. And she said thanks.”

“Wait what?” Beomgyu shot, genuinely confused by his statement.

“I told her you paid for her drink. Gin and tonic, she’s a classy one.”

“Why did yo-,” beomgyu said, only to get cut off.

“She’s been straing at you all night too. I just gave you an in, go talk to her. Now go, before i have to clean the bar from your drool.”

Astonished, beomgyu refused, “what, no. I’m not hitting on some stranger. I-”

“Oh, yes you are. I’m sick of hearing you talk about how lonely you are. No more excuses. Just go, you’ll thank me.”

With him now being down $8 and knowing he won’t win this battle. Beomgyu complied and stood up, walking over to you, mumbling a string of curses at soobin.

—

“Hey, im beomgyu. Im the one that apparently bought you that drink. Can i take a seat?” He spoke in a call tone.

“Y/n. Sure sit. And what do you mean ‘apparently’?” You asked, skeptical at his choice of words.

“The bar tender, soobin,” he started, taking a sit on the stool, pointing over to the boy who was cleaning glasses this time. “He kind of just said that so i had a reason to come over and talk to you.”

“Oh, well thank you. And i guess i should thank him too,” a small smile tugging your lips as you faced your lap, a blush creeping on your face.

Beomgyus mind flooded with thoughts as he tried his best not to blow up from your adorable flustered state.

“Um so, if you dont mind me asking. What are you doing here? You dont seem to be enjoying yourself very much,” he queried, trying to occupy his mind by changing the topic.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Ladies first,” he gestured with a smirk.

“Hmm, my friends dragged me here,” you dryly laughed. “One of them just cashed in a check and wanted to ‘make some memories’ as she said,” quoting her and sighed, “Im not much of a club person though.”

“Hm, well, i was supposed to be spending to night with my friend,” he said, turning over to Soobin’s direction. “But he had to work!” Saying the next part loud enough so soobin could hear.

Facing beomgyu, soobin replied, “shut up beomgyu, you should be thanking me.”

Beomgyu tsked, causing you to laugh at their playful banter. As the conversation continued, you both started to relax and the previous nervousness disappeared. With your drinks now finished, you were simply just getting to know each other. Just the basic stuff, like hobbies, pet peeves and so on.

Even though you had only been chatting for... oh, i lost track of the time, oh wells. But you found out a lot about him. You learnt he loves singing, he plays the guitar, he hangs out with 4 other friends, one of which being the bar tender, and the list goes on. Talking with beomgyu was... easy. You told him about the time your friends had gotten you lost. The time it started pouring when you supposed to have a barbecue. And even the time you almost cracked your head open by missing a ‘wet floor’ sign.

Just as you thought the conversation was coming to an end, beomgyu asked you one last question. And if it wasn’t for this question, you might have missed out on the best night of your life.

“What’s your... biggest fear?”

You thought about it for a second before answering, “that’s a good question. I guess i have to say im scared of tomorrow, of the future. Cause who knows what will happen.”

“Huh...” he trailed off, “well, you should just let the universe run its course. Let it align itself. Don’t worry about tomorrow cause tomorrow ain’t tonight right?”

You let out a dry laugh at his reply, looking down at your empty glass. You never thought about it that way.

“Why dont we get out of here? Since we both aren’t having much fun anyway,” he suggested, holding out a hand, locking eyes with you.

You hesitated. One, your friends were here, and god knows how much they’ve drunk. And two, he was practically a stranger.

But you were up for an adventure and for some unknown reason, it felt like you’ve known him for ages. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe you were just losing your mind. But he was lean and sinewy, and possessed the sort of angelic good looks that made it almost impossible for you to refuse him anything. You trusted him and your friends’ll be fine. Or at least you tried to convince yourself of the latter.

Momentarily forgetting your friends existence, you grabbed his hand, nodding. An unintentional smile breaking across your face, as did his own.

“Soobin, ill see you tomorrow alright,” saying to soobin as he lead you to the exit.

“Have fun you two,” soobin said smoothly until he remembered beomgyu owed him, “wait! Choi beomgyu you owe me $8!”

“Quick run,” beomgyu leaned down, whispering to you before pulling you away faster, dodging the rag soobin threw at him.

—

You were aimlessly strolling, unsure of where you were going or what you were going to do but it excited you. As you left the club, beomgyu didn’t let go of your hand, making your heart play hopscotch in your chest. You realised leaving with a stranger could have been a really bad decision. But won’t it be such a great story to tell your future kids when they asked how you met? You were swept off your feet by a beautiful stranger at a bar. Okay, maybe not the best story to tell impressionable kids but still, it was an thrilling one.

Wait, wait future kids? Gosh, this was someone you spoke for for one, maybe two hours, why were you thinking of starting a family. This was a guy you barely knew, how could he have this effect on you?

Walking down the streets, it was a ghost town. Not a single soul in sight. But then again, it was way past 3am in the morning. The only people crazy enough to be up at this hour are drunks and witches. Beomgyu swung your intertwined hands, singing a song as you made your way down the street. A song you identified to be not spring, love, or cherry blossoms. When he had come to the rap portion of the song, you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“What’s so funny?”

“You can’t rap,” covering your mouth as you let out another laugh.

“Shut up. I can so rap. You’ve just never heard a god rap,” he challenged.

“Sure, whatever you say,” you replied sarcastically, grinning and rolling your eyes.

Content with your answer, he continued singing. A smile was permanently plastered on your face as he did so. After walking for nearly 30 minutes, you still had no clue where you were headed.

“So, where are we going?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“No idea,” he answered simply, turning to face you, a smug smile on his face.

You chuckled, “Well it’s getting kind of late. I think i should probably head home soon.”

“Nooo,” he whinned, “come on, dont say goodnight yet. The stars are still in the sky, the night’s still young.”

“Beom-“

“Shh!” He put a finger on your lips, cutting you off before you could retort. “I’m not letting you go till tomorrow paints the sun across the night.”

With that, he placed an arm around you, keeping you in headlock, not giving you a chance to run away, “i got my sweet mary jane with me. That’s all i need to get high tonight.”

“Hey! Alright, alright, let’s wait till tomorrow. Now let me go!” You giggled, playfully hitting his arm to let you go.

Releasing you, you stood up straight again and interlocked your arm with his, shooting him a smile, to which he reciprocated. You felt surprisingly comfortable around beomgyu. Normally it would take you a few weeks of knowing someone before you dared to be this close to them. But, beomgyu was different. It felt different.

Walking for a few more moments, you leaned against him and spoke, “why don’t we go to a beach? I haven’t been to one in a while. And going to one in the middle of the night sounds pretty fun.”

“Hmm,” Beomgyu thought about it for a second before continuing, “the tides would be pretty high now but it would be fun to watch the sun rise and a i know a beach that’s around here but it’s kinda far for a walk.”

“Great, the walk is fine. It’s settled then, let’s go to the beach!”

“Wait, you sure you can walk that far in those?” Giving you a questioning look, gesturing to your choice of shoes for the night. “Don’t get me wrong, they look fantastic on you. But they ought to hurt eventually.”

“Oh,” you looked down and realised he was right. But there was little you could do about it at this moment, “I’ll be fine. Worse comes to worse, i just take them off and walk barefoot. No big deal, I’ll probably take them off when we get to the beach anyway.”

Beomgyu hummed a response at your child like smile as you spoke. “Alright, but if its to painful, tell me, i don’t mind giving you a piggyback ride okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand to reinforce your statement.

With beomgyu leading the way, it was nearly 4am when you reach the beach. The moonlight shone down, a diffuse glow, reflecting off the waves, lighting the beach from pitch black to charcoal grey. Taking off your heels, you walked to the sand, letting out a sigh. Even though you couldn’t make out much of it, you still stood there in admiration. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sea breeze against your skin and the feeling of the cool sand under your feet. The serene environment was exactly what you needed after being in a noise polluted club for the past few hours.

Beomgyu stood behind you, smiling as he watched your actions. Little did you know, you had the same effect on him as he did on you. You barely knew each other. Yet, you both knew after tonight, there was something there, and you couldn’t deny it.

Walking up to you, he grabbed your hand again. “Follow me,” he stated simply, pulling you along.

Guiding you further down the beach, he brought you to a small pier that overlooked the ocean, walking until you both were at the end. Letting your hand go, he sat down, his legs dangling off the edge as he rested his arms on the rails. Without saying a word, he patted the spot next to him, offering you a seat, to which you gladly accepted. Placing your heels behind you, you sat down, dangling your legs off the edge as well.

You both sat in silence, enjoying the company of the moon and each other. The silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just peaceful. Leaning your head on your shoulder, he rested his own on yours. Right then, all you knew was that this, was the quintessential dream come true.

“Sometimes i wish i could just throw my middle finger to the new sun.”

Beomgyu chuckled at your statement, “what?”

“I just don’t want this moment to end,” you admitted, sitting up to face him, smiling gently. “I didn’t expect the night to go so well.”

“Me neither,” beomgyu replied simply, at a loss of words.

In that moment, you looked angelic, the moonlight spilled onto your face and hair. The smile you gave him, it was as if the stars themselves, decided to rest behind the soft cushion of your lips. As he looked into your eyes he knew, all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this simple thing: love.

Would he dare admit it? He saw it in your eyes and in the short amount of time he knew you, it felt more than amazing. In the short amount of time, he met someone he never thought he’d meet. In the short amount of time, he actually fell in love with you.

=====================================

Had this drafted for almost a month and finally got around to finishing it. Rly like this so hope u do too! 😣💕

Masterlist

#txt au #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu au #txt #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu ff #txt imagines #txt beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #txt ff

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kpoptrashibnida · 5 years

Text

Enough Pt. 2

A/N: Here is Chapter 2 everyone! Thanks to those of you who have so kindly read and supported the first chapter. I want to apologize in advance if the formatting might be a little wonky. This is my first time publishing a chapter on my iPad, so hopefully it’s not too bad. I tried editing as best as I could, but please spare me if there are errors. I came to Brazil for vacation and I’m trying to write/edit in my spare time. Currently it’s 1AM in Brazil and I just felt like I needed to finish this chapter and publish it. Anyway, enough rambling, here is Chapter 2. Also, real quick, this might feel like a filler chapter/not important, but there are key elements here that will come into play later on. Okay? Cool. Happy reading!

WARNINGS: None

When the idea came to you to you, the result you got was not at all what you expected.

You managed to sneak a peak at Chanyeol´s door code the last time you came over to his place for a night of passionate sex. You didn’t plan on coming here often or anything weird like that. But you knew Chanyeol had been having long and tiring days at work and practice, so you just wanted to do something nice for him.

You had dressed up and made some food for him to have at his apartment. You don’t know how he had such a nice body when all he ́d do is eat out and eat ramen at home. You went over to his apartment when you knew he ́d be at band practice. You cleaned up a bit and put some of the food away in the fridge while the rest you started to reheat so it´d be ready by the time he got home.

“You scared me!” You piped as you grabbed a cloth towel and wiped up the bit of mess you made when you dropped the spoon.

“How did you get in my apartment?” His tone had not relaxed and you noticed how upset he looked, which made your stomach drop.

“I saw you punch in your code once and I remembered it. I know you’ve been busy and tired lately, so I wanted to surprise you.” You watched his face as his eyes scanned what was visible of his apartment from where you two were standing.

“I may be tired but I don’t need you to come here and cook or clean for me.” He brushed past you as he made his way to his bathroom, getting ready for a shower.

“You don’t want to eat? The soup is warm.” You said softly, trying to ease his mood.

“I ate already.” Was his only reply as he slammed the door of his bathroom shut.

You stood there for a moment, to see if he would come out of the bathroom and say he was joking. But once you heard the water turn on and his Bluetooth speaker started blaring some heavy metal song, your initial embarrassment turned into anger.

Taking off the apron around your waist, you huffed in annoyance at his attitude. He could’ve at least been a bit grateful! Sure coming to his house unannounced was your bad, you recognized that. But he didn’t need to act like such an asshole. You picked up the rest of your belongings and made your way out of is apartment, slamming the door behind you. You knew he wasn’t going to hear it, but it made you feel better anyway.

Chanyeol and you have a very interesting relationship. You’re not formally dating, because Chanyeol made it clear he doesn’t do relationships. You were each other’s go-to fuck buddy. You liked to think it was more than that though. There were times when he would be very sweet and attentive and other times he would be cold, distant and give you the silent treatment for days, if not weeks, before he’d message you as if nothing happened. It was extremely confusing and frustrating at times because you really felt like you were developing feelings for him, you just didn’t know how he felt.

His attitude tonight was completely unexpected and you wish he’d tell you what made him so upset. It’s not like you were strangers. Six months had passed since the night you two went home together after the club. He had been over at your place countless times. You had only been to his place a handful of times, but it didn’t happen often. You feel it had something to do with the fact that he never stayed the night with you. After you’d finish having sex, he would normally stay for a few minutes to cuddle with you, but then he’d get dressed and leave. You figured he didn’t like to go to his place because he didn’t want to kick you out. You were intuitive enough though, and so the few times you’d be over at his place, you’d leave almost immediately after. He would offer to drive you home so you didn’t have to take an Uber or a taxi, but he never asked you to stay.

Once you’re back inside your apartment, yo decide to apologize to Chanyeol. You want to put this whole thing behind you as if it never happened.

Hey, I just want to say I’m sorry. It was out of line of me to barge in like that. Don’t worry, it’s not going to happen again.

You plugged your phone into its charger and went to the bathroom to take a shower, You put the unseen sexy lingerie in the hamper and sighed, it was a shame it was not ripped off your body tonight.

Once you were out of the shower, you checked your phone to see if he had replied, and to your complete disappointment, he had not. Maybe he was more angry about it than what you thought.

“And he never replied?” Mina asked in shock, her eyes bugging out in a comedic way.

“Nope. It’s been three days since. He’s giving me the silent treatment again.” You roll your eyes as you sip from your coffee.

“Look, babe, I say this because you’re my best friend and I love you. But why are you with him? He’s not worth your time! He’s such a douchebag.” Mina says, getting angrier as she thinks about it.

“He’s not that bad. He just has mood swings.” You shrug.

“Bullshit. Dude, do you not see what's going on here? He manipulates you! And you just keep going back to him time and time again! You deserve so much better than that! You’re much better than all of this!” Mina slams her coffee cup on the table, giving you a glare you’ve never received from her before.

“Mina, I know you’re looking out for me, but you need to calm down. Not all of us are as lucky as you and have a boyfriend that literally bends over backwards to give you everything you want.” You spit back at her.

“Are you freaking stupid? That’s exactly how your boyfriend is supposed to treat you! But, oh, right! Chanyeol isn’t your boyfriend. He’s just a guy that calls you when he feels like he needs something to fuck.”

You were stunned to silence. Never before had Mina ever spoken to you like. Her words had venom and you felt yourself get angry but also wanting to cry at the same time.

“Wow. Okay then.” You say, grabbing your coffee cup and your purse as you get up. “I’ll see you back at the office. My lunch break is over.” You walk away without giving her the chance to say anything else.

Mina is glued to her seat, shocked at herself for the things she said to you. She regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth. She wanted you to see that Chanyeol was only using and manipulating you, he didn’t really care about you and it hurt her to see you let yourself be used that way. You were such a strong willed person that it felt completely out of character seeing you let yourself be treated this way.

Once you got to your cubicle, you let a few tears stream down your face before you wiped them away angrily. You didn’t want anyone to see you cry at work.

Hey, want to come over tonight?

Your nerves were on end the second you pressed the send button. You just wanted to prove to yourself that Mina is all wrong about Chanyeol.

You put your phone face down so you could concentrate on your work and not glance at it every two seconds to see if he replied. You opened up your email and saw you had many of them you had to answer, making you sigh in annoyance.

“Seriously? Did everyone decide to message me when i was out to lunch?” You grumbled to yourself, opening up the first email and resuming your work.

By the time you answered your last email, three hours had passed and it was time to leave work. You glanced at your phone, remembering that you had messaged Chanyeol. You checked to see if he had replied, just to see he left you on read. You shoved your phone into your purse, annoyed at yourself for messaging him.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you noticed a little boy sitting across from you on the bus; he was staring at you and making a wiping motion. You wiped at your face, surprised to see that it was wet. You sniffled quietly and got off at your stop, stopping by the convenience store to buy some ramen and a lot of junk food. You don’t know why you were craving it so much, but you felt like you needed it.

Once the ramen was ready you turned on the TV to watch a drama and pig out on junk food. The drama that was on air was a very sappy romantic drama that had you crying when the lead male character confessed his love to the female lead.

“Love isn’t real!” You screamed at the tv, throwing the remote control across the room and wiping at your tears. You emptied the bag of honey butter chips into your mouth and laid on the couch, watching the drama until you fell asleep.

You woke up in the middle of the night from a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. Clutching your stomach , you made your way to the bathroom to see what was wrong with you. Pulling down your pants and sitting on the toilet, you saw the dark red spot on your panties.

“Ugh, screw you Mother Nature.” You grumbled as you stripped your clothes off and made your way to the shower. That explained the sudden need to eat half the junk food your local convenience store had to offer. It also explained why you were crying like a little bitch last night, momma didn’t reside no weakling.

After your shower, you saw that it was past 4am. Grabbing a heating pad, you took a couple of Advil and hoped that it would help alleviate the pain. You went back to sleep before you knew it.

The blaring alarm woke you up and the second you moved to turn it off, you felt a sharp pain once again in your lower abdomen. Moaning in pain you realized that you were not going to be able to function at work today, not when your uterus was literally ripping itself to shreds inside your body.

You texted your manager to let him know you were not going to work that day. Thankfully your company was very lenient with sick leave, so you weren’t too worried about it.

You felt like crap and decided to order some delicious kimchi stew to help settle the pain, it was better than eating ramen and junk food, that’s for sure.

When Mina showed up for work, she made her way to your office with a coffee in hand, ready to apologize for her behavior the day before. She was totally out of line and she didn’t like it when you two were mad at each other. Rounding the corner, she was confused when she realized your cubicle was empty. It was very unlike you to miss work, but at the same time, lately you had been doing a lot of things that were unlike you. Still, she felt terribly bad about yesterday and she decided to shoot you a text, maybe you were sick and that worried her.

Hey… I know you’re probably still mad at me, but I want to make sure you’re okay. I didn’t see you at work today. Is everything alright?

You woke from your nap when you felt your phone vibrate next to your head. Your heart skipped a beat with the possible Chanyeol messaging you back. But seeing that it was Mina instead also made your heart race, remembering everything that happened the day before. Reading her message, you smiled softly and rolled your eyes. She worried so much about you and you felt bad for walking out on her yesterday. Her words hurt you, but you know she was just looking out for you.

Hey, I’m fine. Aunt Ruby decided to pay me a painful visit.

Oh no babe! As soon as I’m done with my morning meeting, I’ll leave work early and make my way to your house with some delicious food and goodies~

Aww you don’t have to, I know you’re busy.

Nonsense. I’ll be there in 2hrs

I love you and don’t deserve you

;)

Taking a look around your living room, you realized that your apartment was a little messy. You tidied up and washed the few dishes that were in your sink. You put a load of laundry in the washer and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower so you felt a little better.

Once you were out of the shower, you put your laundry to hang as the doorbell rang. Looking at the security camera screen, you saw Mina standing there holding bags of food.

“Hey! I brought you a little survival kit.” Mina said as she took her shoes off and made her way to your kitchen.

“I have some heating pads, chocolate, some ramen and tofu stew. Oh and kimchi from that banchan store down the block. That old lady makes the best kimchi.” She put all the bags on top of your counter as she sorted the items out.

“You’re so good to me, I don’t deserve you.” You said as you walked up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist.

Mina shrugged herself out of your arms and whirled around to face you, you were stunned at her sudden movement.

“No, don’t say that. I’m horrible, okay? I was so out of line with you. You didn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.” Mia looked near tears as she embraced you in a tight hug.

“I know you’re looking out for me.” You said as you both pulled away. You sat on a stool as Mina took the stew out and placed it in front of you with some rice and kimchi.

“I went full mamma bear on you. I didn’t mind when you and Chanyeol were just sleeping around. But I know you and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Chanyeol doesn’t deserve you and you should not be accepting his treatment.” She said, feeling angry but sad at the same time.

“I know, but-“ You were interrupted by Mina’s phone going off. She took her phone out and answered.

“What? I am out of the office.” She said into the phone. She was quiet for a second and cursed under her breath. “Okay okay okay. I get it. I’ll be there shortly.” She hung up and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go. Some people are just so incompetent they can’t do their job even though it’s so simple. I’ll check back later, okay?” She said, grabbing at her purse.

“Of course, don’t worry. You did so much already. Thank you.”

“Eat your soup!” Mina said as she made her way out of your apartment.

You ate your soup in silence and threw the trash out once you were done with the soup. Grabbing a bag of honey chips, bless you Mina, you plopped down on your couch and pulled up Netflix. You got lost on the drama you were watching you didn't hear your phone vibrate until the second time. You reached for it absentmindedly and didn't pay attention to who messaged you until you unlock your phone.

Hey babe

Can I come over? I need you

You stared at Chanyeol’s message for a couple of minutes before you responded. You were dumbfounded as to why he was messaging you now, after ignoring you for a few days.

You can come over if you want. But I’m on my period and I’m not going to sleep with you.

You sent the message with a hint of annoyance. You were hoping he’d want to come over anyway, to prove to you that this whole thing was not just about sex.

I’ll come over in 2 days

His response left you feeling cold. Two days. As in when your period is over. Your heart sank to your stomach and you felt a little nauseous. You were really hoping that this was something else, but it seems like time and time again, Chanyeol was proving you otherwise. You wiped at the tears angrily, both at Chanyeol and yourself. You couldn’t believe what an asshole he was. You had enough of his bullshit.

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#chanyeol #chanyeol smut #chanyeol angst #kpop #exo #kpopsmut #smut #exosmut #nct127 #nct #nct smut #multi fandom #multiau

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dontnessw-me · 6 years

Text

@revengefulhcart || - ̗̀♥ ̖́-

1:12 AM

For how weird it may sound, there are times in which Ness starts craving food, especially when he thinks about it or when he catches a similar whiff that automatically wakes up his stomach with a grumble and a desire to have a bite without minding about the time. Whether it’s in the middle of the night or in the middle of the day, at dawn or at twilight, if Ness starts craving food he knows that he must eat that exact food. And today’s special is his favourite : steak. His desperation is so high that he involuntarily has found himself scrolling down on pictures of fine cooked steaks, all of them with different and appetising side-dishes and shots. And the more he looks, the more his cravings increase.

With the belief that Claus is fast asleep ( it’s not normal to crave such a heavy dish at 1AM, but to Ness this is habit ) he sends him a text message because for the love of God he must share with him everything that happens despite the time : can’t sleep, craving steak. He honestly doesn’t expect to receive a reply, as well as Claus doesn’t expect Ness to still be up at this time of the night / morning. It’s surprising for himself, too - but here he is, laying in bed with his phone while searching for videos of chefs grilling a generous size of his favourite food. Not even watching videos of rabbits nibbling on lettuce distracts him from his hunger pangs, mostly because those rabbits get to eat and he does not, especially now that he’s craving food. And it’s not just go eat something, no --- he must eat what his stomach is so much craving for otherwise he’d never be satisfied, no matter what he eats, how delicious it can be or how full he is. He’s craving steak and he must eat steak.

Right when the chef is melting some butter next to the steak, a pop-up notification appears on Ness’ phone screen, telling him that Claus has replied to his message and that he’s coming over. Wait - Claus is awake AND he’s coming over at this time of the night? The boy furrows his brows in surprise and double-taps on the notification to read the rest of the message ( double-taps because he’s surprisingly excited to have a message from his crush at this time of the night ) : he’s awake and he’s coming over … with steak omelets!

“Oooh!” An airy whisper as he’s immediately pushed by his own will to sit on the bed, nervously tapping on the screen to send a reply. Think of something simple but at the same time heartfelt.

‘ Thanks, I’d be dead without you! ’ crying emoji.

[ … ]

2:33 AM

“I hope the trip wasn’t too much of a burden! Must be dangerous to come all the way here with the bus, especially at this time of the night.” Excited to have the ginger over at his place despite the time, Ness can barely control himself and barely stumbles on his feet while walking to the kitchen with the plate of steak omelets in his hands. Nothing gets dropped and he manages to keep his balance - though nothing can be done for that soft squeak emitted at the realization that he’s almost fell like an idiot. Well, Claus has almost assisted to a memorable spectacle. Awkward.

There is nothing on TV at this time of the night. Almost a thousand of channels and none of them is streaming something interesting, if not drastic situations at the ER or people talking about their weird addictions / obsessions. He has already watched this episode of the soap opera, which makes it less exciting to watch but it’s the only decent thing over the rest, really. It’s innocent - when it doesn’t get to a steamy part - and the protagonists are about to kiss, so …

One bite of Claus’ food and Ness falls in love. His palate rejoices at such a wonderful taste and the combination with the other flavours is a perfect mixture that makes his stomach dance happily. His cheeks redden slightly at the thought of someone cooking something delicious, going through an hour trip at this time of the night only to have it delivered to him --- if this isn’t love, then Ness doesn’t know what else it is!

“Oh my God! This is wonderful, this is delicious! And you’ve done it just for me, oooh!” Yeah, he’s excited and can barely refrain himself from showing it. He feels enamored bite after bite, humming contently as reaction of the wonderful taste. And before he can realize, it’s gone … but it’s fine ; Ness is satisfied, his stomach already growing daisies for the joy of having erased his craving.

[ … ]

3:02 AM

They kissed. Just like Ness foretold, the two protagonists of the soap-opera finally kissed. The scene would usually well up his eyes for the mixed feelings it conveys, but not when he already knows how it ends. She dies at the end of the episode. And the raven is about to say it to the ginger but his head gently resting onto his shoulder has caught him off-guard. It has happened all of a sudden, so Ness is found unprepared. But he throws an arm over Claus, nervously having his palm resting on the latter’s arm - nervously because he can barely believe that his crush is slowly adjusting to the feeling of him. It surprises him, it makes him happy … it makes him sweat!

He has been dreaming to have Claus this close to him and now that it’s happening, Ness gives his cheek a light pinch to make sure he’s awake. Fool, of course it’s real! He has indirectly kissed you after all! It still counts, right? Those two kissed fingers on his lips … they still count, right?

He doesn’t want to admit it but he’d be lying if he says that his heart is not beating insanely hard right now ; it feels almost as if it’s about to burst out of his chest and for a moment he has even thought that Claus can hear it. But then he hears - he feels - his breathing adjusting to sleep, which reassures him that he passed out. He will too very soon, as soon as this episode is over --- in the meantime, he gives a few rubs on Claus’ forearm and rests lazily his head onto the other’s.

Bonk.

#revengefulhcart #☆ || gotta keep my head up! ;; mv #[ tw ;; long post ]#[ drabble ;; tbt ]#((#wanted to continue the drabble you wrote to me #and lowkey let myself go whoops #Claus found the perfect way to get to Ness' heart #congratulations boy #))

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annzybwrites · 4 years

Text

Truth or Dare: Coming Out Edition (Chapter 6: Relaxing Time)

Read on AO3 | Donate to my Ko-Fi if you like | Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

A South Park Fanfiction ft. Creek, Style, and Bunny

Thankfully, all of the drama seemed to have ended after Stan came back. The rest of the night was spent yelling at video games, screaming at horror movies, and laughing at the dumb presents everyone brought to the White Elephant (Stan’s dad had made him bring a big jar of weed - he slipped a twenty dollar bill in as the real present).

Eventually, 1am rolled around, and most of the boys wanted to go to sleep. But of course, excitement caused them to put in just one more movie before officially retiring to the guest beds.

Tweek and Craig didn’t mind. Since everyone was sleepy anyway, they could cuddle in their recliner without anyone bothering them too much.

“Mm,” Tweek hummed, nuzzling further against Craig’s chest. They were laying back a bit, Tweek curled up on the side with his top arm around Craig’s waist, his hair gently being played with by Craig’s steady hand. While he was ready to fall asleep, his brain was still buzzing with the earlier excitement. He’d been so excited to learn that Kenny and Butters were together - they were so cute and happy! But it sucked that they needed to keep it a secret, since that meant all of the attention would still be on him and Craig as the only out gay couple in the school. Still, he supposed it was nice not to be so alone anymore.

“Honey,” Craig whispered, brushing Tweek’s hair back so he could look up at him.

“Yeah?” Tweek took the opportunity to sit up and stretch his neck out. Cuddling was nice, but you ended up in weird positions.

“Look.” Craig helped Tweek turn so his back was laying on Craig’s chest before he gestured over to the side. When Tweek looked over, he saw Kyle sitting on the couch with Stan’s head on his shoulder, their hands clasped together. “Whatever you said to Stan,” Craig whispered, “must have really helped him out.”

Tweek smiled bright, turning onto his side again to grin up at Craig. “I’m capable of more than I think, right?”

Craig snorted and shook his head, unable to stop a grin from taking over his own face. “Shut up, babe.”

Tweek snickered and went back to laying on top of his boyfriend, closing his eyes.

However, it seemed Craig wasn’t done yet. “Hey,” he whispered, running his fingers through Tweek’s hair again. “Do you… wanna hear about when I fell in love with you?”

Tweek snapped his eyes open, pushing himself up to stare right into his eyes. “What? You, you wanna tell me? Now!?”

“Yeah.” Craig had a small, relaxed smile on his face. It made Tweek’s mouth run dry. “It’s short anyway. The gist of it is… I’ve liked you ever since we had that fight in third grade.”

“What!?” Tweek’s jaw dropped. “You mean that fight that Cartman and them set up??”

Craig nodded in response, gently pushing Tweek’s jaw back up.

“But…!” Tweek felt his head spinning. “But that doesn’t make any sense! You were so insistent you weren’t gay when everyone thought we were together!”

“Well, yeah,” Craig frowned a bit as he remembered it. “Because I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself yet. Plus, it kinda sucked having everyone pair me with my crush before I could even say anything to you.”

Tweek felt like his face was on fire. He buried his face against Craig’s shoulder, stammering, “I c-can’t believe you’ve liked me for that long!!”

“Why not, babe?” Craig asked, kissing the top of his head. “Why wouldn’t I fall for someone who can beat me up?”

Tweek snorted and looked up at him with a raised brow. “Is this your way of telling me you’re a masochist?”

“Maybe.”

“Craig!” Tweek smacked his shoulder, laughing as he shook his head.

“Hey, guys,” Kenny called out, snickering from the beanbag he and Butters were curled up on. “We can hear everything you’re saying.”

“You’re lucky Clyde’s unconscious right now,” Butters added.

“That’s why I started talking about this in the first place,” Craig revealed. “That’s what he gets for trying to embarrass me all night.”

“Ah, so you’re a sado-masochist,” Kenny joked, winking at him. “I can relate.”

“Ken!” Butters covered Kenny’s mouth with a pout. “Shush!”

“Craig, I think your whole crew is out,” Stan pointed out. Timmy was slumped over in his chair, Jimmy was lying on the floor, and Token was napping peacefully on his beanbag.

Craig groaned and moved the legrest of the recliner back down. “The rest of them are fine, but I should put Timmy to bed before he falls. Stan, help me.”

~~~~~

Rewind - when they started their last movie for the night.

“Ugh,” Kyle groaned, rubbing at his face before pulling at the bottoms of his eyes. “It’s getting really hard to stay awake.”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed, yawning. He let his head fall back on the couch then, groaning quietly. “We could just sneak off to bed.”

“Nah, dude,” Kyle shook his head. “They’ll draw dicks on our faces for sure.”

“I hate that you’re right about that.” Stan sighed, forcing himself to lift his head and watch the movie. He didn’t even know what was going on. He was more distracted by this sudden need to talk to Kyle about… well, them . It was like his brain just decided to say “Hey, you should tell your best friend that you probably, definitely like him or whatever.” And now his heart was speeding up as if he was actually going to, and now his mouth was opening and starting with, “Hey… Kyle?”

“Yeah, Stan?” He turned to look at him, his eyelids drooping.

Stan smiled a little bit. Kyle was always super cute when he was sleepy. Damn it, this was not helping. “I, um… I feel like I should…” He swallowed, starting over. “Remember earlier, when you asked when I figured out I wasn’t straight?”

Kyle felt much more awake now. “Yeah?”

“Well,” Stan’s mouth was dry, his heart one word away from stopping completely. But he still wanted to say it. “I figured it out in… in sixth grade. During…”

“During?” Kyle prompted, placing his hand over Stan’s for encouragement.

Unfortunately, that just made him more nervous. He took a breath, whispering, “During one of our sleepovers.”

Kyle was certain his heart did a loop-de-loop in his chest. Was Stan saying what he thought he was saying? Was this really happening?

“I, I’m sorry if that makes you feel weird,” Stan mumbled, gently tugging his hand away to hug his legs to his chest instead. He stared down at the ground, fear plain in his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn't have even brought it up, but I… I want you to know that I really like you, Kyle. You really are one of the best things in my life, so I don’t really care if we date or just stay best friends forever - it’s, it’s up to you. I’m just… tired of being scared of my feelings.”

“Stan,” Kyle whispered, frozen to his seat. Half of him wanted to simply push Stan down into the couch and kiss him senseless. The rational part of him urged him to actually talk it out and go slow, since that’s probably what Stan needed more than anything right now. “You know, that’s how I found out I wasn’t straight, either.”

Stan didn’t process those words right away, and Kyle could see his eyes light up when he finally did. He turned to look at him, mouth slightly agape. “R, really?”

Kyle nodded, scooting closer. Their knees touched, and neither of them moved away. “Really. Stan, I… I’ve liked you for a long time. It’s just, you were always with Wendy, or -”

“Please don’t talk about her right now,” Stan interrupted, reaching for Kyle’s hand again. He squeezed it tight, smiling down at their joined hands. “I just want to enjoy this.”

Kyle wondered if his heart really was as loud as a war drum, or if he was just really tired. He squeezed Stan’s hand back, swallowing down some of his nerves. “So… what should we do now?”

Stan flinched, ducking his head down. “I… I want to try this,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along the back of Kyle’s hand. “But… can we keep it a secret for now? I don’t really want the whole school asking me all these questions.”

Kyle clenched his teeth, glancing away. This was something else he’d been dreading - having to keep a relationship secret. He wished he could say he’s secure enough to be a secret boyfriend, but a little part of him would always wonder if Stan didn’t want to tell anyone about them because he wasn’t serious. “Stan, I don’t want to force you to come out until you’re ready, but… I’m not sure how I’ll feel about keeping a relationship a secret.”

“Not, not a complete secret,” Stan tried to backpeddle, his voice rising slightly in pitch. “Like, I don’t care if these guys know,” he gestured around the room. “And I should probably tell Wendy, but… I don’t… want my family -“

“Oh,” Kyle interrupted, reaching up to wipe at Stan’s eyes. “No, no, that makes sense.”

Stan sniffled, closing his eyes. “Ugh… I’m sorry -“

“No, it’s fine -“

“I’m such a mess.”

“It’s fine!”

“It’s not fine for you.” Stan wiped at his eyes. “You’re right, I…” he trailed off, a new thought entering his head. He dropped his hand and stared into Kyle’s eyes. “Do your parents know about you?”

“Uh.” Kyle’s eyes shifted away, a sheepish smile stretching across his face. “My mom… found a magazine.”

Stan snorted and covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Sorry, just…” he grinned, teasing, “a magazine? Really? That’s so old school.”

“It was one of Kenny’s, okay!?” Kyle groaned and covered his face. “What, like you’ve never… you know!”

“Yeah, with the internet,” Stan snickered, pushing at Kyle’s shoulder. “You know, in an incognito browser?”

“I didn’t want to risk getting a virus!”

“Just don’t download anything and you’re fine.”

“Gee, thanks for the tip now.”

Stan went back to laughing quietly, hunching over and resting his head on Kyle’s shoulder as he tried to breathe. “Okay okay, I’ll stop teasing.”

Kyle huffed, digging his fingers into the couch cushions since he couldn’t cross his arms with Stan so close. He waited a few moments before muttering, “I… I want to try, too, then. We’ll just tell our friends, and my mom.”

Stan’s whole body went rigid. He looked up at Kyle in another panic. “Your mom will definitely tell my mom, and as much as I love her she’ll probably let it slip to my fucking dad, and -”

“Stan,” Kyle cupped his cheek, urging him to take a breath. “My mom won’t tell anyone, especially if I stress how important it is to you. She’s gotten calmer - something about aging I guess.”

“I don’t know,” Stan mumbled, looking down at the floor. “What… what does your dad even think?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“Seriously??” Stan’s eyes widened. “Your mom hasn’t told him?”

Kyle opened his mouth, closed it, and started again. “Well… if she did, he hasn’t asked me about it.”

“This is unbelievable.” Stan pushed his hairline back, staring into the space between them. “Are you sure it’s your mom and not an alien?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“What evidence do you have?”

“Dude, shut up.” Kyle laughed and gently elbowed him, relaxing back against the couch. “Um,” he swallowed nervously, mumbling, “Can I ask about you and Butters?”

“Why?” Stan looked away, his hands clenching around his pantlegs. “It didn’t… we were just - testing something, I guess? It was one kiss.”

“I figured that.” Kyle brought one of his legs up, crossing it in front of him. “But like… when?”

“Oh.” Stan swallowed, rubbing his hands back and forth against his knees. “Uh… last year. Like, right before he started dating Suzette.”

“No kidding?” Kyle turned to him with round eyes. “That’s, like… when I kissed Kenny. Also a test, by the way.”

“Thank God.” Stan let his head fall back against the couch, closing his eyes. He was pretty much done for the night, yet he was muttering jealous words before he could stop himself: “Was he a good kisser?”

Kyle raised a brow at him, crossing his arms. “Was Butters?”

Stan winced and turned his head away. “Touche. Sorry.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he needed to go to sleep, but he found himself throwing Stan a bone. “I pretended Kenny was you, so I don’t even know for sure.”

“What?” Stan looked over at him in awe. “That’s… that’s what I did with Butters!”

“Are you for real??” Kyle felt his heart skip a beat. He covered his face, groaning, “God, could we be any lamer?”

Stan grinned, his heart turning warmer at the sight of Kyle’s ears turning pink. Feeling brave, he scooted closer and laid his head on Kyle’s shoulder. “Well… let’s not be lame anymore.” He reached up, gently tugging Kyle’s hand down from his face and squeezing it, intertwining their fingers.

Kyle let out a noise somewhere between a squeak and a nervous chuckle, feeling mortified right after. “Oh, y-yeah??”

“Yeah.” Stan closed his eyes again, sighing softly. The sounds of the movie took center stage in his ears for awhile, accompanied by his strong, loud heartbeat. If his eyes didn’t hurt from exhaustion, he would have sworn this was a dream.

“Stan?” Kyle whispered. “One more thing.”

“Hm?” Stan hummed, not moving an inch.

“Just… about you, er, your gender?” Stan tensed up, and not even Kyle squeezing his hand gently could calm him. “No matter what, I’ll like you. Okay?”

“Th…” Stan still felt tense. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I appreciate that.” And he really did - it wasn’t Kyle’s fault that this topic made him feel sick. He’d worried so much about his crush on Kyle that his gender issues took a backseat. Which meant he’d probably have to deal with those issues next. Great.

His eyes snapped open when he felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. He moved slightly, looking up at Kyle, who just gave him a sheepish smile. “You don’t have to figure anything out right now - I just wanted to let you know it… doesn’t bother me?”

“I…” Stan swallowed, shyness flipping his stomach over and making him lay his head back down against Kyle. He was right. He didn’t have to think or worry about anything right now. He should just focus on how warm Kyle’s hand was, and how he was finally as close with his best friend as he wanted. That’s all that mattered right now; he could figure out the rest later.

“Thanks, Kyle.”

#south park #sp creek #sp style #sp bunny #sp fanfiction #south park fanfiction #ToD:COE #annzy writes

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whereintheworldisbella · 4 years

Text

A day in the life

**From my time living and studying in St. Petersburg, Russia in the summer of 2014. Written then but posted 6 years later.**

My alarm goes off at 8am and I open my eyes to sunlight. During the summer white nights the sun would never truly set. I get dressed and head into the kitchen for breakfast, where a pot of warm kasha (oatmeal made from buckwheat) awaits. Since the tap water is undrinkable here, my host family has to boil the water before drinking it, although some families use filters. After filling my water bottle, I take the copies of my documents in my bag (in case the police stop me and request them under suspicion, as is legal) and head out the door. When I enter onto the busy street, cars scream by me and swerve around each other, trying to make a yellow light, only to be stopped by traffic on the other side of the intersection. I shake my head and make my way towards the bus stop.

I watch as marshrutka after marshrutka stop along the road to pick up more people than you think could possibly fit in a van. Marshrutkas are privately owned busses that run a certain route but will stop anywhere along that route to let you off. You just have to do is tell the driver where to let you off and hand him the money – all while he is driving. Finally, my bus comes and I step on, take a seat, and wait for the person in the orange vest to come give me a ticket in exchange for 25 rubles (that’s about 67 cents).

As I’m riding past the elaborate, baroque, yet damaged and unkept buildings, I look at the people on the bus. Some men with briefcases seem to be going to work; a boy in jeans listens to his iPod as he gazes out the window; two young women in short skirts, tight tops, and high heels sit with their large bag on their laps and sunglasses on their heads, texting on their iPhones; a young woman with a stroller stands near the door and an older woman wearing jeans sits reading her novel, as many people on transport do here; an elderly man reads the paper and two elderly women sit near the front, wearing flat shoes, long skirts, light jackets, and a scarf covering their head. They, too, hold their bags on their lap and are eyeing up the other passengers on the bus. They are known as babushkas, or “grandmothers,” and nobody messes with the babushka.

We cross two bridges, pass the baroque, blue-and-white Hermitage (one of the world’s largest museums of art), and drive a little ways on Nevsky Prospekt (the popular, main street in St. Petersburg). The bus fills up and no seats are left so some passengers need to stand. At the next stop, an elderly woman, or babushka, comes slowly onto the bus and scans her card on the machine to pay. She walks over to the young boy listening to his iPod who, seeing the old woman, rises and gives her his seat. If he hadn’t, very strong, spiteful words would have been directed at him by all the babushkas on the bus.

Finally, we reach St. Isaac’s cathedral (a Russian Orthodox Cathedral, which is the fourth largest cathedral in the world). I remember visiting the Cathedral the first week I arrived in St. Petersburg – it’s large, stone pillars and golden dome are impressive from the outside, but the inside is even more impressive – the walls and ceiling of a large, open space is covered with hundreds of colorful mosaics.

It’s my stop and I get off the bus, walking the rest of the way to Smolny College. Along the way, two Russians ask me for directions, and I do my best to answer them. I’ve been asked for directions at least three times every week since I got here – and now I can actually answer them!

I continue the familiar route to school: past the men drinking in the park, past the many buildings under construction and covered with the green tarp, past the productkiys on every block, past the workers smoking on the street (since it is illegal to smoke inside, even in your home), past the people feeding pigeons by the handful, past the food stands on the corner selling blinis (russian crepes), corn, or hotdogs, and past the delightful surprises left by dogs earlier that day.

The smells I encounter could be better: dirty gasoline used by the cars, cigarette smoke, tar or asphalt from construction sites, the sewer, garbage, and other unpleasant smells that cannot be explained. Only every now and then I smell freshly bread or pirogis (Russian pastries) wafting out from a café or food store.

When I get to the one entrance of the building, I scan my ID card and pass through the turnstile. The college is one building with two courtyards. First I have Russian grammar class for one and a half hours along with other Americans on the program, and then I have History of Russian Autocracy for three hours and twenty minutes alongside other Russian students. All of my classes are taught in Russian.

After classes I usually walk around the city or go to a café with some friends I met on the program. In the summer St. Petersburg can be very hot and filled with tourists, but in the fall the temperature is perfect, there are fewer tourists, and all the families have arrived back from their dachas (summer homes in the country where families go to escape the city every summer). Now that families populate the city, many faces I encounter on the street have changed from serious and cold faces to smiling, laughing faces. The family is the center of Russian culture, and kids are the center of the family.

St. Petersburg was built to resemble Amsterdam so there are many beautiful bridges and canals to walk along. The city also has many great museums, and some that are pretty strange. The ones I have visited include: the Hermitage (of course), Erarta (contemporary art), the vodka museum, the cat museum (St. Petersburg has a thing for cats), the Museum of Strange Things, the Freud Museum, and more. It’s also great to visit the suburbs of the city, where you can find forests, summer palaces once used by the nobility, and beaches.

I’ve been to the Church on Spilled Blood, tanned in the Field of Mars, toured numerous baroque palaces, and had picnics in many parks and gardens. I’ve seen a ballet and an opera, and I plan on seeing the circus. I’ve been to a jazz concert in a park and went spelunking in the woods with my host brother. And almost every day since I got here, I’ve seen at least one wedding.

If I were to sum up my thoughts about St. Petersburg, Russia, I would say that I feel like I stepped back 30-40 years into the past. The city and the social customs are underdeveloped compared to places in the US. For example, there are still traditional gender roles, almost everyone smokes cigarettes, running outside is unusual (but also because the city is not that pedestrian-friendly), and there’s a lack of diversity. It’s a strange and unsettling feeling.

When I get home to my host-family, the three small girls are running around naked, chasing each other and screaming. Alla (the great-grandmother) is talking to her friend on the phone in her room, Tatyana the house-keeping is cooking food, the grandfather is working on his computer in his room, the mother is playing with the kids, and the father and grandmother are still at work. I live in an apartment with 10 other people, and although it has eight rooms and two bathrooms, there’s no open space. There’s no living room – only two long, narrow hallways with rooms coming off of them. The gathering space is in the kitchen, which has a table that seats only four people, and if people aren’t in the kitchen, then they are in their room with the door shut. But being in a small room with the door shut can be extremely stuffy and hot during the summer since there’s no air conditioning and sometimes no ventilation system in buildings.

For dinner Tatyana makes traditional Russian cuisine: borsch, herring under a fur coat, chicken, cucumber and tomato salad, etc. Some things I’ve noticed about the food: Russians love to soak their food in fat, whether it be butter, oil, or mayonnaise; Russians use dill frequently, even in the strangest foods, like with carrot salad; Russians eat a lot of chicken. Basically, if you can tolerate repetition and bland cuisine, the food here is fine.

Towards the end of the summer it wouldn’t get dark out until 1am, but now the sun is setting around 9pm. After doing my homework and browsing on the computer, I lay my head down and go to bed, exhausted from the day. On the wall next to my bed hangs a brown, flower-patterned carpet that covers the entire wall. Good insulation for the winter to come.

Living in Russia has been difficult, especially being used to such a westernized way of living. Things are much more traditional here, and being a woman, that can be tough. But being here has made me realize just how much we have back in the US, and has made me appreciate everything I’ve grown up with. St. Petersburg definitely has a lot to offer, and I’ve learned so much these past three months – not just about the language and culture, but about myself, as well. Here’s to the rest of the semester – на здоровье!

#studyabroad #stpetersburg #russia

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familyvisionis2020 · 4 years

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Day 2 - Knoxville

Somehow the post I made about Knoxville got deleted so this is me trying to remember some of it but this is deficient and I am mad and sad I lost that writing because it was good and heartfelt.

Before we went to bed in Asheville we heard birdsong in the trees at like 1am and I said ‘nightbirds?’ and Jeremy laughed a little. Jeremy and John and me remarked in the morning in Asheville how nice it would be live here. The cool mountain breeze was nice. We left the house we were staying at and headed into town. We went to the mechanic first to try to find out what the problem with the van was. The mechanic looked at it and explained it was our pittman arm and the steering box was shot which was causing the play, and that it could be repaired for about $280, and we confirmed with the van owner from whom we are borrowing the van that they would reimburse us for the repair, so we left the van with them, put on sunglasses, walked past the moog factory and down thes street to the Five Points diner. It was a greasy spoon where they served typical Denny’s fare plus a bonus section of greek and italian entrees in the back. I got a big omelet of spinach and feta, hash browns and grits. It felt so warm and full and substantial to eat those things. Later John would remark that “when your needs are met on tour, they’re met so much more intensely,’ which I agree with. Sleep is precious even thought it’s usually cramped and smelly and uncomfortable, the water bottle and coffee cup and meal feel like real ballast and fuel. I had said this more poetically before I lost the post but whatever. We eat our breakfast and then stroll around town for a bit, visit the bookstore Malaprops downtown where I see more muppet-looking people busking and spanging, flying signs, nodding out, sleeping on benches, the nexus of muppet and homeless is an unclear one for me and I try not to be too judgy. We meet Kabir’s friend Alex Brown at Malaprops, Kabir buys a book called 1491 which is a precolonial history of the US I think, we walk down town past one plaza and to a park with a bandshell and a stage and a lawn cordoned off because two men are testing the sprinkler system. The soil near the bench where we sit is aerated and I confirm the squat columns of earth littering the ground are soil and not goose shit. We all four sit on a long bench and all cross our legs together and read each of our individual books in this way that was kind of comically synchronized, so much so that Kabir just bent over so we wouldnt look exactly the same. Me and John were on Ursula K Leguin and Kabir on Kingdom Cons by Yuri Herera, a novella, and Jeremy on Capitalist Realism on his kindle. A townie ambles by, he has a deeply asymmetrical hircut with a shock of purple dyed hair on a mostly shaved head, a loud Pittsburh steelers hat, a cane, and that familiar mix of affability and psychosis that seems to characterize a lot of home bums. He sees us all reading and remarks: “I like Shakespeare myself.” Mercifully, he walks on, goes to another group of tourists down the sidewalk and does something that’s not quite heckling and not quite visiting with them.

We leave, the drive is short, we have had the steering box/pittman arm/linkage repaired and so the play is gone out of the steering but the wheel itself is permanently at 10 o clock and evidently it wants to drift left. Jeremy is driving and negotiating the misalignment expertly, we agree to find a place to get this fixed in Knoxville. On the drive we listen to Blue Smiley, The Durutti Column, Andy Shauf, Frank Zappa, Toro y Moi, Toshifumi Hinata, and best of all we listen to a track called “Style and City’ by Stand High Patrol, which is just an upbeat litany of naming music genres and then naming the city that genre originated, a genius idea, Jeremy said it came on in a club in Brooklyn and the crowd got incredibly loud and everybody loved it. This time around on tour rather than despairing at the poverty of my music knowledge as compared to the expansive encyclopedic aural erudity of the boys in the band, instead I just ask what song is on when I like a song and like it on my Spotify. The other day my friend was asking me where I find out about new music from and I said without thinking ‘I just borrow my music taste from my friends’ which like yes, of course I do. I had this issue for a long time like I must be the originator of my taste, that I must dig in the crates and find the rarest music that no one has ever heard of before, and that I must never be influenced by anyone. Which is dogshit egotism, I’m pleased and relaxed to learn that I can just ask and my bandmates will happily give me a track ID and not think twice of it, and I can take these new songs home with me to enjoy and share.

We get into Knoxville and there’s a giant JFG sign that looks about a century old and a bizarre system of concrete staircases snaking and zigzagging and carved into a steep hill and I want to go visit them but we end up not visiting them. We get to the house we’re staying at, the people who live there are Royal and Kayla, ‘betrothed’ is how Royal describes his Kayla, they are married. Royal is an architect, exceedingly kind and jubilant and gregarious and gets close to you and involves you in jokes and has a laugh that comes so easy and his jaw kind of jerks in time with his jaw and palate when he laughs, the same sort of motion you see in an opera singer or like Mariah Carey when they are modulating vibrato on big belting sung notes. We hang at the house, Kabir breaks out his big thing of homemade chipotle hummus, we start to feast but Kayla brings out a homemade loaf of sourdough she has and then warms up four thick slices in the cast iron and puts a gentle golden crust on it and serves it to us with a big stick of butter on one of those covered narrow butter plates, and also she brings out sweet bell peppers and cuts them into sections we can dip into the hummus, and she pulls out the drum throne from royal’s kit for me to sit on. She’s a nurse, she’s southern in this special way that treats hospitality like breathing, makes it not hard to accept kindnesses and graces. She gets up after eating to work on her pottery, she has a throwing wheel outside in the garage area and she has lined their stone retaining wall with cups and pots she’s made, I learn later that the plates she served us bread off of were all made by her as well. The life she and Royal have in Knoxville seem so breezy and solid and supported and full and healthy.

Royal is an architect, the home has a couple little miniature homes and buildings made out of what look like high-grade matchsticks. John recognizes a poster on the wall of a friend’s band. Their dog, Willow, approaches me, I get annoyed and think it’s going to be mean or bark or smell bad or be annoying, but then I’m petting it for an hour, she jumps on the couch beside me and I put her in this kind of hug-headlock and fall asleep with her on the couch, Jeremy, I learn later, has taken a picture of this, I feel really happy he did that, and I ask for the picture from him and I send it to a girl I like in an effort to confirm my putative cuteness and genteel nature. When Royal is home we watch funny videos on youtube on his projector, weird interviews with furries and flat-earthers and then of a guy screaming about something while in the middle of traffic outside Universal Studios in L.A., I try to explain to the guys how there was a meme I saw wherein there is a picture of a cat who is reciting the lyrics of a Kanye song but in a cute speech impediment style where it can’t say Rs: “Pwease Baby No Mo Pawties in Ew Ay” and it is basically impossible to explain and gets no laughs and that’s fine and we move on. Jeremy puts on a Vimeo of this incredible short film he made with the title “Guided Meditation for Increased Kill/Death Ratio,” which is exactly what it sounds like, it’s built in Unity, which is like a framework to design video games in, it looks like a generic FPS with a character holding an assault rifle moving down a long spacy looking corridor lined with metal, and with a very calm amniotic ambient track Jeremy comissioned his friend to make, and Jeremy is doing the voiceover, and the conceit is it’s like a guided mindfulness meditation except instead of reducing anxiety or avoiding panic or grappling with trauma or mending depression or whatever the usual purpose of these meditations are (meditations I do daily, using the app Headspace, btw, which no one here knows as far as i know), instead of that, the purpose is to like reassure the video game player that they are a perfect efficient killing machine. Stuff like ‘focus on the feeling in your HUD, now the feeling in your body armor, now the feeling in your M4A1 carbine, now visualize your next spawn, you are not your avatar, you are pure death’ something along those lines, and it hits hard home for me being a former competitive Counter Strike player and casual Halo and Call of Duty player and now being like mentally ill to whatever extent I am such that I believe I require these meditations. ITs really well executed, the player glides through corridors, clips through the ceiling, encounters nebulas and NPCs and aliens and eventually spirals into space. Jeremy shows the original video that inspired him, same basic thing but in a virtual Costco rather than in a FPS. We move slow, Royal screen prints tee shirts for his band, Tired Frontier, on his living room table as we watch the videos. The plan is to spend tonight and the next three tour dates wth Tired Frontier. We eventually go to the show.

It’s a house show, the name of the place is CBD Castle, above the front door they have a huge cardboard sign that says CBDB’s in the style of CBGB’s and there’s a big porch with a huge couch on it and a guard rail thing that you can sit on or prop your feet on perfectly if you’re slouched way down on the couch. We mingle a little, the show gets started, the opening act is Kind Magic, which it becomes evident is something of a joke band, perfectly suited to a house show, they don’t take themselves too seriously, they mostly have just mustaches, 80s style, one guy has wraparound oakleys, he’s the lead singer, he climbs up on his bass amp at one point. Royal comes in, and people start moshing, gently, just like running into each other, Jeremy does a silly dance and I watch it happen and I want to do it and I have to wait a few songs to get up the courage but eventually I give it up and start spinning around and let myself get bounced around and I am 32 years old and feel just right and not self conscious and silly and afraid how I used to always feel at the metalcore concerts when I was 16 in Ace’s Basement in Greensboro and the moshing was this awful violent masculine chauvanist bullshit thing. This is the opposite. One song, the lead singer, it becomes evident, is chanting “Pogo! Pogo! POGO!” and I think this means pogo mosh but it does not, it means the drummer gets up off his throne and picks up a big pogo stick he has secreted in the corner and starts jumping up and down on it WHILE playing a complex drum pattern on the drums, it is unreal the level of dexterity and coordination this guy has, I learn later that he spends half the year touring with a professional pogo troupe whose gigs are mostly basketball halftime shows, and include a guy named Danger Rus, aka Russel The Muscle. This band rips and is so fun and loosens everybody up and people are drinking and getting kind of sloppy and I plan to be mad and indignant about this but instead I just don’t care and it’s lovely. Next up is us.

We set up, I get to use the backline kit so load in is minimal, just setting up breakables again. We get locked in, Kabir revs us up, we get started, and right from the jump either I pushed the tempo with my count-off or the guys pushed the tempo or we all did most likely, but we are playing louder and faster than last night and I am going in all the way hard on the drums, playing with my whole body, i come down with my right hand on the floor tom so hard my butt bounces up off the throne, I’m surprised but I like that so I keep letting that happen, I head bang as hard as possible, my neck is immediately sore and hurting but the crowd is crazy live, everyone is dancing after a few songs. I manage to thrash the wingnute off the hihat clutch which and try to repair it, flounder, and give up, which all that means is I can’t modulate the hi hat and so our set is just louder and more raw which matches the room anyways. By the last two songs the people are dancing so hard that I give up my usual veneer of grimacing and lasering my eyes to the side or corner to avoid the crowd, instead of grimacing what I do is watch what is happening in the crowd, which is the crowd smiling dancing moshing grooving with us, with me, and I get a huge smile on my face which I can’t hide and I’m so incredibly happy just playing and being heard by these people. We end and Royal rallies the crowd and they chant ONE MORE SONG ONE MORE SONG for like 3 minutes but we just don’t know another one, and so there’s no encore, but how special and lovely to be asked to do one.

Tired Frontier plays and they rock and they have keys by Paul who has a master’s in music theory and currently pursuing a second music masters in production or something. Royal has 10 pedals I think, and a super weird tuning, and they make a big wall of ambient noise between the keys from Paul and the feedback from Royal’s “stack,” which is his guitar running through a Fender guitar combo for an amp and with a Fender bass combo for effects. Their set is a little longer and the vocals don’t come through that clear and they don’t give super clear definitions to the start and end of their songs so the set may have been 4 or 7 songs. They finish, and I am so starving hungry I get the keys from Kabir and go to the van and eat about a half a jar of peanut butter and an apple and then go lay on the big white couch outside and just doze, super tired. It starts raining sheets and we learn from somebody that Knoxville’s adjacency to the mountains makes it a temperate rain forest and it rains almost every day. It’s warm and breezy and perfect. Me Kabir and John go get taco bell, the best taco bell in town, I just order the same thing as Kabir rather than taking a million years to choose and that works out great, two spicy potato soft tacos, and we just sit in the parking lot and wolf and chomp. The parking lot is sparkling, spotless, a big street sweeper truck is skrrting around finishing the job, someone who I imagine is on opiates walks very very slowly up to our van and then walks away. Someone is asleep outside near a building in the strip mall. Some car drives up and maybe drops off food or clothes. We go back to CBDB’s Jeremy is involved in a dance party there, Paul is choosing tunes based off what he calls ‘forgotten hits from the 80s.’ We eventually go back to Royal’s I fall asleep almost immediately on the couch.

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