#they were my first period drama couple

[fanficimagery]

Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."

#happy lowman imagine #happy lowman x reader #happy imagine #happy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #happy lowman #juice ortiz #tig trager #jax teller #dark romance

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Angela Lansbury (The Harvey Girls, The Court Jester, The Manchurian Candidate)—The babe, the myth, the legend. In her own words her early hollywood roles were "a series of venal bitches" and they were all glorious. Half of them wanted to kill you and you probably would have thanked them. She even goes toe to toe with Judy Garland in The Harvey Girls! That said, she was chronically underused and misused during this era - she was just 36 when she was cast as Elvis Presley's mother in Blue Hawaii and a few years later commented that she'd played so many 'old hags' that most people thought she was in her 60s. She thought she was "all talent, no looks" but she was the full package! Post-1970 I hope we all know what an incredibly talented and compassionate badass she was, but I feel like not enough people know her early roles as a hot (often villainous) young thing.

Angie Dickinson (Rio Bravo, Point Blank, Ocean's Eleven)—Though it could be argued that overall her career leans more to TV, during this time period she was splitting movie title credits with the very top names in the business.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Propaganda for Angie Dickinson:

Propaganda for Angela Lansbury:

"Angela Lansbury might not be where your mind goes first when you think of hot leading women, because she had a later career revival. But she began acting in the early 1940s after leaving London due to the Blitz. In the first couple decades of her film career she has an openness about her. She said she never really fit in with the Hollywood crowd and to me she gives off a friendly, untarnished vibe."

"Most of us know Angela Lansbury as old lady sleuth Jessica Fletcher, but it's important to know that she was smoking hot in her younger days as well as a damned fine actress. Although she didn't get lead roles until her early 40s, at 17 she was a supporting actress in films such as Gaslight (1944), National Velvet (1944), and The Picture of Dorian Grey, for which she won the Golden Globe for best supporting actress and was nominated for the Oscar. Even in her memorable performance as the manipulative mother in The Manchurian Candidate, she is listed as a supporting actress as she does not play the love interest. She was successful both on stage and screen, and won the Tony for her lead role in the musical Mame on Broadway in 1966. TL;DR While Angela Lansbury mostly played supporting roles in films before 1970, she had what it takes to be a leading actress, which we know from her success on stage and tv from the mid 60s onward"

"She looked like a princess but bit like a viper"

"Is there anything this woman couldn't do? Act in comedy and drama, sing, dance, be a wonderful human being - quite simply a true and wonderful lady."

"god she had such an incredible career all throughout her life really but as a young lady she was just as incredible as she was in her later years. enchanting voice, amazing personality, and absolutely GORGEOUS. she lamented not having the looks to play leads in romance but that idea is so batshit because look at her??? she's one of the most terrific women of all time. also she's my grandmother's favorite actress and i truly get it"

"she is the fairytale princess of my dreams in court jester"

#angie dickinson #angela lansbury #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman #here we go!

[gureumz]

burn

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

notes: fem!reader, reader is a couple years older than him, acquaintances to lovers, medieval/renaissance (?) royalty au (i made the time period as vague as possible so anywhere from the 1500s to 1700s should be fine i guess), talks of marriage, loss of virginity, unprotected sex

a/n: IMPORTANT! i was hesitant to put this out at first because i know there's tension when it comes to explicit content regarding jungwon, but i didn't make this out to be anything too crazy, so no hard/taboo kinks as i don't feel quite okay writing those for him as of now. i did enjoy writing this piece as i'm a history buff and love the drama. of royal courts so,,,please enjoy!

it was getting too much.

the stares, the "innocent" touches, the silences that followed each strained conversation.

you had been patient. you had been steadfast. you had stood your ground.

but the flicker of desire inside you was slowly catching on, and you know, it would soon be roaring fiercely despite your efforts to tamp it down.

you gather your skirts and trudge on out of the library, knowing the princess would be looking for you, given the length of time you've been away. the hallway is quiet, as you expected. the end of supper time is drawing near, and everyone in the castle would soon retire to their private chambers.

the princess was dining with her family in her father's royal suite, along with a handful of courtiers and ladies-in-waiting, much like yourself. you had excused yourself for a moment under the guise that you were in need of the privy, but in truth, you could not bear to be in the room with him any longer.

he'd been staring, longer than he should be, and you were afraid that someone would take notice.

you had stood behind the princess, curtsying briefly before asking to take your leave. she waved you off without a second thought, though you did not miss the questioning glint in her eye as she did so.

you caught his gaze briefly just before you left.

prince jungwon had smiled in your direction, seemingly amused at your flustered state.

you suddenly blank as you turn a corner, your shoulder colliding with something, causing you to stumble backward. you reach out instinctively to steady yourself, just as a hand grabs you by the arm.

"my lady," a voice croons in your ear, and you feel your dinner churning inside you.

you straighten yourself out, smoothing down the wrinkles in your dress as you look jungwon in the eye.

"your grace," you begin. "i was just on the way back to supper."

"no need," jungwon informs with a tilt of his head. "supper has ended. my sister does seem to want to know where you've wandered off to, though."

you swallow thickly. "i will return to her chambers right away."

you bow, hoping he would drop the conversation, but you feel his hand lay gently on your shoulder. you freeze, acutely aware that no man who isn't your lover or husband should be touching you like this in public.

"i'm sure she would not mind if you stayed out a little longer?" jungwon says as you fiddle with the lace trim on your bodice.

"doing what, your grace?" you question, turning back to look at him.

jungwon smiles, his dimples prominent in the firelit hall.

"take a walk with me," jungwon offers.

"if she asks where you've been, you can always say you were with me."

you draw in a breath. "i don't think that would be wise."

"my sister has five other ladies-in-waiting to attend to her. one would not be amiss," jungwon tries to convince you, taking your hand in his.

"what i meant was, it would not be appropriate to be left alone with you," you protest, watching as he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing them gently over your knuckles.

your skin tingles with a feeling you can't quite place.

"and why not?" jungwon asks, running his thumb over the spot where he had kissed your hand.

you look into his large, cat-like eyes. you're bewildered at how dashing he looks in this proximity, the sharp line of his nose exaggerated by the shadows cast by the torches around you. his lips curve into another one of his handsome smiles, and the way he looks at you is more than enough cause for you to shake inwardly with want.

"you know why," you finally answer. "it is not proper."

jungwon cocks his head to the side as if waiting for you to continue.

"we're not betrothed, or known lovers, for that matter. the direction we're heading..."

you pause, hoping jungwon would understand what you're talking about.

"it's dangerous."

"do you not hold any affection for me, lady ______?" jungwon addresses you formally, perhaps a jest, given the smirk playing on his lips.

"i had thought you did," jungwon continues, reaching out to toy with a loose strand of your hair that seemed to have fallen from the intricate braids that decorate your head.

"why would you think that?" you challenge. your heart beats twice as fast now.

the flicker of flames begins to crackle.

"you do not throw yourself at me like the other ladies in this castle do," jungwon replies, his thumb ghosting over your cheek and down your jaw.

"you avoid me, make any excuse to separate yourself from me," jungwon goes on.

"but when you do find yourself in my presence, your eyes cannot seem to leave mine."

you inhale sharply.

it's true. much like earlier, you make such efforts to create as much distance as possible between you and jungwon. like a fox slinking away from its predator.

but to you, jungwon was like a city cat: sly and clever. despite the couple of years you had on him, he was always one step ahead. you could never escape him. it didn't matter how grand his family's castle was, you will always find your way to each other.

"do you hold any affection for me, your grace?" you ask, raising a brow.

jungwon chuckles at this.

"of course."

your eyes widen at his admission and a laugh escapes the prince's lips.

"you thought i would shy away from such a confession?" jungwon taunts, stepping closer, his hands resting on your waist.

the fire burns brighter, still.

jungwon leans in and panic fills you. you were not in one of the castle's secluded corners where shadows are ready to conceal whatever is to come next. anyone could walk by and find you and the prince in this compromising position.

but all is forgotten when jungwon presses his lips against yours, gentle and cautious, as if wary that he might scare you off.

as a lady of a respectable background, you have always been reminded by your family to keep your virtue with you. you are not to mess with boys and no such inappropriate behavior shall be tolerated from you.

as a lady of a respectable background, you had your way around this.

this is not the first time you've been kissed, but the weak peck of lips against your own when you were but a young girl was nothing compared to the way jungwon's lips seems to be melting against yours.

you pull jungwon closer by the front of his tunic, feeling the firm muscles shifting beneath.

"we mustn't," you protest weakly against his lips. "not here."

jungwon pulls away, breathing heavily, eyes dark as he gazes at you. you stare back at him, anticipation coursing through your body.

what now?

"to my chambers," jungwon whispers, grasping your hand in his. you start to protest as he pulls you along, but he shushes you.

"quickly," jungwon urges, dashing down the hallway towards his room.

luckily for both of you, your destination had been nearby, and no guards are on patrol on this side of the castle. you arrive in front of the heavy double doors of jungwon's room, both of you out of breath and brimming with feelings you did not care to address.

jungwon pushes you against the hard wooden doors, lips pressing up against yours once more. you let out a surprised sound, but it's caught in your throat when you feel jungwon's hand running down the side of your leg. he dips down, grabbing the back of your knee, before hooking your leg around his waist.

you gasp, feeling him press up against you. you feel something hard beneath his breeches.

the flames are catching on, moving up farther and farther.

"your grace," you start, increasingly worried that someone would see you.

"forgive me," jungwon says with a sheepish grin. "restraint is hard to come by when you're around."

you flush at his words, but before you can reply, jungwon turns the knob to one side of the door, hurriedly pushing you inside before letting it close behind him. he turns the lock in place and lets the second steel bar fall across the wood, ensuring the utmost privacy for the two of you.

"your grace," you begin once more.

"jungwon," he says pointedly. "you may call me by my given name."

you gulp, the situation finally catching up to you. "jungwon."

"i...i do not wish to give myself to someone i will not marry," you explain, holding jungwon at arm's length. he examines your face, gently brushing your hair away from your forehead.

"we won't do anything you don't want to," jungwon reassures, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"but that's precisely it," you say, circling your arms around jungwon's neck.

"i want to do everything," you whisper.

"i want to do everything with you."

jungwon raisies an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

"are you the one proposing to me, my lady?" jungwon teases, his hand pressing gently on your lower abdomen. he travels down further between your legs, rubbing you through your gown.

you sigh, clutching at jungwon's clothes. you lean forward to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, enjoying the way he groans softly.

"is there any other woman you wish to marry?" you ask, smiling against his neck.

"no," jungwon answers simply, taking you by surprise as he pushes you towards his perfectly made-up bed, plush with the finest covers and blankets.

you stumble backward onto the cushiony surface, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watch jungwon undo the strings of his breeches. you gasp as he lets them fall, exposing all of his lower body to you.

jungwon catches your eye and leans down, kissing you with newfound vigor.

the fire crackles, just shy of bursting into wild flames.

"we can stop," jungwon murmurs as he pulls away. "whatever you want, my love, i will follow."

you shiver at the endearment, your fingers gently threading through jungwon's hair. with your other hand, you reach down to gather your skirt around your waist.

"i want you," you whisper, kissing jungwon sweetly.

you lay back down on the mattress, watching as jungwon eyes your exposed core with undeniable lust. jungwon bites his lip, guiding his straining length to your entrance. you feel a mild burn as he pushes in, the wet squelch of your arousal reaching your ears as he slips further into you.

you have had a man down there before, but merely with his fingers. the thickness of jungwon's cock contrasts with anything you've felt before, stretching you painfully, but you urge yourself to persist, clawing at jungwon's sleeves.

"my love, my dear," jungwon says, stilling over you.

"wait," you plead. "just, wait."

jungwon kisses you tenderly, stroking one side of your face with his thumb, perhaps in an effort to soothe you. you take increasingly deeper breaths, letting yourself relax in jungwon's embrace.

jungwon gives an experimental thrust, barely there, and you groan, but at this moment, the pain is mixed with a feeling that has you curling your toes.

"again," you pant, looking directly at jungwon's eyes. "slowly, my love."

jungwon moves again, carefully watching your expression. you gasp, lips parting as the sting gives way to a delicious throb within you.

"more," you beg this time. "please, i need to feel you."

jungwon groans, his hips snapping up as he gives in to his instincts.

"oh!" you cry out as the sensations come crashing down on you at once. it feels good, much better than your own fingers or anyone else's. you watch as he disappears and reappears with each thrust, the image so lewd and new to you that it keeps you in a trance.

"look at me, ______," jungwon says lowly. you obey, peering up at the young man. he has a frenzied look in his eyes, wild with something burning inside him.

the flames roar, engulfing you, him, your bodies.

jungwon grabs your hips, forcing you further down his bed. you throw your head back, relishing in the way he seems to go even deeper. you lock your legs around him, never wanting this feeling to end.

the bed creaks with the effort of holding up your passionate lovemaking, and you worry for a fraction of a second if anyone can hear. as if reading your thoughts, jungwon places a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"i think...i plan to marry you within the year," jungwon supplies between labored breaths. "hell, before the next moon if father allows."

you giggle, elated at jungwon's words.

"hardly a choice now that i've given my maidenhood to you," you comment mischievously. one side of jungwon's mouth raises in a smirk before he dives down to latch at one side of your neck.

"you're mine, love," jungwon declares. "all mine."

you preen at his words, his pace picking up. you're left breathless as he thrusts madly in and out of you. your world is spinning but at the very center of it is jungwon. sweet, handsome jungwon.

"i'm about to—"

"inside," you blurt out without second thought. jungwon's mouth hangs open at your decision, a question evidently making its way out of him.

"you'll get it on my dress, otherwise, and that would raise more questions," you interrupt once more, your breath hitching as jungwon's nails dig into your side.

"by the gods," jungwon curses beneath his breath. "i might have to wed you within a fortnight."

"please," you mewl. "want nothing more than to be your wife, to be yours."

jungwon grunts, pressing a hand down on your abdomen. you yelp, feeling a sudden pressure inside you. it had been a slow thrum of something minutes before, but now a strange sensation grips at you from within.

"s-something's happening," you worry, grasping jungwon's shoulder.

"you're about to finish, my love," jungwon says, pressing down even harder on your belly. you writhe, feeling as if you're about to explode.

"it'll feel good, i promise," jungwon reassures, pressing his lips to your temple. his movements are turning erratic, sweat dripping down his forehead with effort.

"fuck, i'm—"

before jungwon can finish his sentence, he moans loudly in your ear, sinking fully to the hilt inside of you. you feel him spasm inside you and the movement brushes against a spot that has you coming undone, pleasure coursing through every vein in your body.

you cling onto each other, trembling and moaning each other's names.

a minute passes by as you both calm down, skin glistening in the dim light of the dying flames in the fireplace. jungwon is the first to pull away, watching you as you try to catch your breath.

"you look absolutely stunning, my love," jungwon praises, kissing you on the cheek.

you smile, the ache in your body starting to make itself known.

"let me call one of the servants to have a bath drawn for you," jungwon offers, reaching over to the row of service bells next to his bed.

you sit up, letting your gown fall over your legs, concealing any indication of the past hour.

"i think i should be the one to call for them from my own room," you suggest, pulling jungwon back. you snake your arms around his torso, kissing him behind his ear.

"they might grow suspicious," you add, laying your cheek against his firm back.

"very well, then," jungwon agrees, prying himself from your arms. he swiftly dresses, straightening his disheveled hair. he sees you watching and he smiles, taking your face in his and giving you what seemed to be the hundredth kiss that night.

"i suppose you don't want me walking you to your room, either?" jungwon asks, helping you up from his bed.

you shake your head, working out the creases in your skirt and sleeves.

"let's not push our luck, my prince," you warn, patting jungwon's cheek.

---

you enter your bedroom, exhausted and slightly worried. you tried to find the princess to provide a semblance of an explanation but she was nowhere to be found. not in her own chambers, not in the library, not in the parlor. you decided after nearly half an hour of looking that you would handle the situation tomorrow.

you slide the large metal lock of your bedroom door into place, securing you in your bedroom for now. you turn, nearly screaming at the figure standing before you.

"gods!" you shriek, backing into the door, painfully banging your head against the wood.

"oh, shut it," the princess says, pulling you away from the door. she maneuvers you toward your quaint sitting corner, pulling a chair back and urging you to take a seat.

"now," she begins. "i'm not mad. i'm thrilled, to be honest."

"have you worked out a wedding date with my brother, yet?"

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

[wondernus]

˗ˋˏ a winter interlude ˎˊ˗

synopsis: maybe this is meant to be an interlude – an unforeseen passing moment in each other’s timelines. but with the stroke of a conductor’s baton, the symphony lands on the fermata hovering above the note. do we allow this interlude to become something longer than a short period in our lives, or do we end it after all of it is over?

pairing: wonwoo x coworker!reader

genre: romance, drama, light angst

tags: children's book illustrator wonwoo, publisher reader, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, food/drinks, work husband jeonghan cameo, small town dynamics, snowed in, scene where reader almost gets physically injured

wc: 11.3k

message from nu: waaaa first fic of the year. special special special thank you to my beloved madi (@heartkyeom) for being my beta reader well after midnight. I also wanna thank mars (@onlymingyus) for being mars c: I remember a while ago I answered an ask with a possible wonwoo work husband spinoff. this is it. this is wonwoo's work husband spinoff. this can be read as a standalone fic. happy winter and happy new year to all of you. I hope you all enjoy this svthub snowventeen collab fic - nu ♡

wondernus's masterlist / snowventeen collab 18+

one

“Don’t forget to wear you layers because it’s about to be chillier as the week passes by. For those trekking into the mountains, make sure you look out for weather updates from the signal tower and stay indoors because a large snowstorm is about to paint the mountains white. Stay safe, and have a great day. Now, onto Yoon Jeonghan with the traffic.”

“‘Trekking?’ What are you? A protein bar wrapper? Anyway, thank you Joshu-"

Never really understanding why other people say they often find themselves turning down the music while driving to see better, you find yourself doing the same – driving in silence as if the silence could create such a frictionless surface that would shoot and propel your car to your destination. A couple of hours late to your annual winter work retreat, a clear understatement defined by the speed at which you are driving, what was supposed to be a carpool event turned into you sitting in a pool of cars while stuck in traffic.

The Sun shines lightly, a gentle kiss against your skin, but not enough to hug everything it touches in warmth. With the heater on high, you sit in your front seat sweating and dreading the moment when you have to get out of your car, thighs peeling off the leather seats and leaving a pool of sweat where you were sitting. Perhaps it is not the Sun and the heater’s heat that causes you to sweat, but a psychological factor – an amalgamation of stress and anxiety that stemmed from the moment you realized you were late.

No longer can you allow yourself to forgive him that easily, yet you really did not want t blame him for giving you incorrect meeting minutes. But when the retreat itinerary clearly stated to meet in the morning at seven in front of the publishing house, you should have known better than to wholly trust your ditzy new intern to attend your office meeting while you traveled out of town to hunt down your author for her overdue speculative fiction novel draft. Instead of writing the correct time to meet, he incorrectly noted the arrival time.

This unprecedented-precedented blip is the catalyst for a series of chain reactions that would metaphorically send you pummeling down the steep side of a mountain in a snowy avalanche that you could have avoided. But you do not know it, nor do you know how it, whatever “it” is, ends.

Dark circles under your eyes and a forgotten paper-thin pimple patch a jolt over a speedbump away from falling off your oily skin, you keep telling yourself that everything will be okay once you get to the camping grounds. Hopefully, this sort of denial could make up for the fact that you spent all of last night kicking your feet under your covers while binge-watching the reality show that your favorite boy group filmed rather than packing for your trip. But there is only so much your heater turned on high can do for someone wearing an old flimsy university tee with a couple of cat teeth-made holes who forgot to put their contacts in last night. You are better off skipping the winter retreat, but you are already nearing the mountains. There is no turning back – especially on winding roads.

And the embarrassment. This feeling of creeping anxiety seemingly washed away the moment it stepped foot into your head even though you are utterly unprepared and inappropriate for being late to the paid work retreat. Because this sudden realization hits you mid-drive: the only person who you would be embarrassed to meet in your current situation is excused for the retreat. Reasons unknown. And not that you would let any man define you, but at your core, you are simply a person with an embarrassingly big fat crush on your co-worker (and seemingly everybody else you work with). This crush is so bad that if HR made every team create their own set of photocards, you would put his in a protective cover with tiny holographic hearts, and then in a sturdy toploader decorated with overpriced stickers. One glance at him would put you in a trance, daydreaming about what it would be like to wake up in his arms on a sunny day with birds chirping outside your window, and him with a soft smile on his face.

Except for one thing – he hates your guts, so you decided to hate his too.

They always say “try, try again,” but how many tries would it take before the attempts turn Sisyphean? Sure, Hades enchanted Sisyphus’s boulder so that it would roll away before Sisyphus reached the top, but what about you? Car tires struggling against the icy roads, you drive carefully so your car does not turn into a giant hockey puck or a curling stone on (what is essentially) a giant ice rink. But being careful does not help the fact that you are unprepared. And being unprepared means your car has absolutely no way for you to drive over any sized slopes, no matter how many times you try.

You only realize any further attempt of going over the slope or taking any other route is fruitless when your tires spin in place after digging themselves well enough into the road. And you slump against your steering wheel like an exasperated character in a movie – pounding your head against 12 o’clock a few times for good measure. So much for a fifteen-minute-saving de-tour through a small town you have never seen before. And so much for you trying to drive over a slope you could easily walk over. Trying sucks.

Still, the only thing that keeps you from abandoning your hand-me-down car to trek forty-five minutes to the campsite is the fact that it is freezing outside, and your cellphone Wi-Fi gets especially spotty when you are in areas of high altitudes. With one final sigh, you push yourself away from your steering wheel to sit upright, leaning the back of your head against your headrest. There is not much to do except to put your car in neutral and try to push your car out of the little hole it dug itself in.

The thing is, the texture of real snow is a lot different from the snow that giant portable snow machines shoot out of their gigantic cylindrical nozzles to cover the courtyard in front of the city hall whenever the local city has its annual winter festival. Real snow is also incomparable to the “snow” a child creates along the perimeter of an ice skating rink, hands holding onto the rails for support while they repeatedly scrape the inside of one of their blades towards the inside of their other shoe, creating soft ribbons of shaved ice before the navy blue Zamboni can create a clean slate before private lessons start.

Real snow is relentless toward anybody who does not come prepared to interact with it. So, no matter how much you try to dig and twist your sneaker sole into the snow, that tactile grip that you wish to create that supports your feet while you are pushing against the back of your car can seldom be created. You slump against your car’s bumper in defeat. The Sun still shining on your skin, a little bit stronger now, leaves you with the same warmth you felt against your skin, a bit tingly and upsetting, when you knew your skin would still burn no matter how nice the cordiality of the Sun felt on that one Spring day in the past.

Plus, there is a little more time to observe your surroundings when you have given up completely.

In the grassy median strip that denotes the entrance into the small town is a wooden welcome sign with the name in loopy golden lettering against a beautiful pine green: “Welcome to Interlude.” A few feet ahead of you, the mountainous road marries smooth concrete, and the sidewalks pave in a festival town-esque brick lining. And you conclude you must be on the outskirts of the town. Leftover snow fills the grooves between each brick and covers the dark-colored awnings in front of each shop along the town strip. Where flashy LED shop signs and brightly colored bulbs decorate sidewalk trees drawing visitors in from around the world, is surprisingly a lack of people. And you frown while thinking about how you would be able to push your car to the side of the road if another vehicle wants to enter the town.

Not a few moments later, a navy blue truck slowly climbs up the road, and you feel the littlest bit of hope surge into your body. Forcing yourself to stand up, you move out of the way and wave at the incoming car. But as your day could not have gotten any more unfortunate, your car starts rolling backwards towards the pickup truck. And you cannot help but see your entire life flash in front of you – a person dressed too lightly for the snow and the used car passing by like a celebrity on a parade float, all in a moment.

What is scarier than the fact that your car is now bumper-less and the pickup truck remains unscathed is the man who hops out of his truck. Looking like a snow-stage boss from a video game, the man who is large and menacingly looking enough to make his shiny dark green car look like a minivan next to him stalks over to you with his finger pointed directly at your face. The only thing missing from the scene is the army of ice ogres that are supposed to follow closely behind him.

However, the only thing you can register is the fact that he is yelling at you – face glowing bright red and spit flying out of his mouth. Your body is frozen in fear. There is a lack of capacity for you to be able to stand up for yourself while you are shocked and unable to recognize your surroundings while terrible words spill out of the man's mouth. And you cannot do anything except take in his expletives while teardrops well up, ready to spill out of your tear ducts.

But they do not. A figure puts himself between the man and you, and your view is too obstructed to see the other side.

“I called the insurance company. Give me your information and I’ll handle it,” the mysterious person says.

“And who are you?” You hear from the other side.

“I’m their husband.” He fishes for his wallet in his back pocket and takes out a business card, handing it to the man between two fingers. “Call me. Email me. Your choice. I’ll get it sorted. Sorry about the whole thing, I didn’t have time to drive my partner. Bad husband right?... So, I heard you’re the new fishing shop owner? I’ll drop by sometime.” He tries to switch subjects to lessen the tension while slipping his wallet back into his pocket.

The thing is, it works. The presence of the man who uses his body to shield you calms the angry pickup truck driver almost exponentially. And the man who yelled at you seemed to forget he was yelling at you just because he realized your marital status. The man calms down, and even falters in his speech.

“Ahh…I’m not a fishing shop owner. I guess it’s fine now that you’re here, but you know men. There aren’t bad husbands, only ba-”

“I’ll be at Town Hall if you need more information from me.” The man who calls himself your husband purposely and curtly cuts the other man off, knowing very well that he would be even more upset if he heard the man finish his sentence.

The man does not turn back to address you until he is done taking photos of both cars and waving the other man goodbye. And your piece of junk car stays in the same spot, bumper-less and bruised, while the pickup truck, clearly without any injury, smoothly makes its way into Interlude, disappearing from your sight.

“You’re just going to dumbly let that man say those things to you? About you? Do you have no respect for yourself?” He lectures you, his deep voice muffled by the black wool scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth.

You see him clearly this time, how his black locks fall in front of his face in neat curtain bangs, set in a defined “C” shape. The oversized fleece-lined collar jacket falls to the middle of his thighs, leaving little room for his cream-colored sweater to peep into view. And his stance, focusing his weight on his right heel while his left foot slightly protrudes forward, allows him to tap his foot against the snow while he waits for you to answer him.

But what is shocking to you is not the code-switching he uses when speaking to the driver versus when speaking to you. What is shocking, you realize, are the thin silver-framed glasses that sit on the bridge of the man’s nose and the familiar deep woody scent that clings onto him, touched with a hint of peach.

It couldn’t be.

A cold chill leaves your tongue dry and squeezes your stomach.

“Are you dumb? Did you not hear about the snowstorm coming?” He asks you, a voice without concern, all while pulling out his phone from one of his pockets.

He tugs his manicured thumbs out of his gloves to wake his phone and proceeds to reveal his face from under his scarf to unlock his phone. After a few loud keyboard taps, you hear your phone’s notification sound from your car. But all you can do is stare back at the man, stomach gurgling and queasy.

“Yn,” your co-worker sighs, clearly annoyed by your lack of response. “Why are you here?”

two

A backpack-wearing piglet who happily crosses the street. A fashionably dressed lumpy toad who rows across the pond in a wooden paddle boat. A shrew who picnics with a chipmunk in a grassy city park. Tiny children who sit between each of a stegosaurus’s scutes. An angry and scruffy-looking Siamese cat who wears a cone too big for it to see. The backside of each illustration states:

Jeon Wonwoo ILLUSTRATOR Same Dream Publishing House Work Email | Work Number | Personal Website

Nicely squared recycled textured card stock printed with soy ink, Jeon Wonwoo’s business cards can very well double as collector cards. And the owner of these cards himself, in your eyes, is the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. No fantasy writer, no Renaissance artist could ever truly depict how you see this man. Yet it makes you feel terrible, so entirely rotten on the inside, knowing that he would rather crawl up several flights of stairs made of tiny plastic building blocks than take a fifteen-second elevator ride with you.

If you could pinpoint the exact day Jeon Wonwoo started hating you, it would be the Monday after coming back from a previous work trip to the vacation home of a poet the two of you were assigned. The two of you were amicable with each other, even more so – close friends. A power couple in the children’s books and short stories field – a force to be reckoned with. And the hotel rooms adjacent to each other where the two of you decided to sit on opposite sides of your shared door and talk to each other with both your backs against the door. You remember the sound of his hair brushing against the wood and his soft chuckle when you accidentally bump your head against the door. The goodbye after the trip lingered for a little too long while the first hello back never came. And you can only watch from the back of the crowd during meet and greets and panels, sometimes only catching the tip of his tiny flyaway from far away.

It would hurt your feelings a lot less if he turned away whenever you walked near him, but he chooses to frown instead. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make you like him any less. But you do not know what you are holding onto (or if there is anything to hold onto at this point).

Even now, there is a blatant emotional and physical distance between the two of you. He briskly walks at least a meter in front of you, never turning his head back to see if he left you behind or if you were following closely behind.

The thick uncomfortable shoulder strap keeps slipping from your shoulder, unable to find any traction against the smooth nylon of the puffer you put on earlier. And it is just a walk, a measly ten-minute walk to the police station where you can report the accident, but it is hard to walk while looking ahead when you are so close to crying. No matter how much you try to adjust your shoulder strap so it doesn’t stop falling, it finds a way to slip from your sore shoulder or frozen grip. Overwhelming emotions usurp any will to continue onwards and leave you feeling so annoyed, so dejected, and so frustrated with everything that happened today. And when your bag’s strap slips again, you let it slip from your shoulder, sending your entire duffle bag crumpling against the wet and icy brick pavement. 

And so you crumple with it, sinking to your knees and wallowing in your unhappiness.

The winter boots that clop in front of you never stop. Jeon Wonwoo would never stop for you, never walk backwards to pick up your heavy duffle and offer you a hand. So it wracks your head trying to understand why he would help you out in the first place, leaving you in the snow once everything was settled, and threatening an IOU coupon for the future. Why he would be in this town in the first place.

The shop window lights of the tiny electronics store to the side of you flicker on. On display and pressed flat against the glass are a bunch of old television sets stacked on top of each other, creating a large screen if not separated by the thick plastic television frames. Golden tempera paint in a modern Serif font exhibits the store’s logo across the glass: “Stay For A While,” in a wide downward pointing arc.

Every single television screen livestreams the local news. According to the subtitles, a giant snowstorm is about to hit the local area. Residents are advised to seek shelter and stay home. The sunny weather is only a farce. 

But you don’t notice the news. To you, the only thing in front of you is a lachrymose shadow of a blob trapped in a foreign town with nowhere to go. And your heart follows closely behind the man as if dragged by him on a leash – blindly bouncing, cobbling, and getting scratched by the various pebbles and dirt on the pavement.

The man never looks behind to check on the organ. He doesn’t even know it’s there.

“What do you mean you’re cat sitting? Jeonghan, you never volunteer to do things willingly…Oh, for the friends who are high school teachers? Then road trip with their cat and save your cousin who is stranded in the mountains.” You adjust your grip on your phone while mindlessly browsing through the several knickknacks for sale in the souvenir shop in the town’s only lodge.

Passing the wall of graphic tees and sweaters and passing through a shelf of souvenir mugs, you stop at a shelf of tiny woodcarvings. Your eye lands on a figurine of a whittled cat, hand-painted orange with a white belly. On the other end of your phone call, your cousin complains about the weather, but you don’t listen – clearly too entranced by the tiny cat.

“Of course I listened to the radio this morning,” you mutter while running the tip of your pointer finger against the cat’s ear, feeling the smooth sanded wood under your touch. “Okay, you got me. It was for background noise. Look, I’m not asking you to pick me up today. I somehow ended up booking a room after finding out cab services are down today. But if you’re not going to pick me up then I’m going to hang up and solve this myself. But if you don’t hear from me in three days, then call a search party. Okay?”

Except he hangs up before you can say goodbye, grumbling about how you never listen to him. Still, you’re unbothered by his action. The tiny cat, now in the palm of your hand, looks so content with life, unbothered by what goes on around it. Your mind wonders about its artist, how long they must have spent carving the cat from a single block of wood, the hours it must have taken to create something so tiny yet so fulfilling to own. And you wonder about the artist’s emotions, if they ever felt sadness after parting with their cat. If the cat was the artist’s friend, even for the brief moment, that juncture, in their individual timelines.

It would be best if you left the cat on the shelf, you think. Just in case the artist ever changes their mind about selling the cat. And the cat looks happier sitting on the shelf with its other animal friends, happier than what its painted lazy smile suggests.

And for the first time today, you feel a tiny bit of happiness – a halcyon moment surrounded by forest-themed trinkets and flashing keychains with generic names and soft 2010s pop music playing from the store speakers. That is until you see a familiar figure being escorted to the lobby of the lodge. Curiosity causes you to leave your spot in the souvenir store, edging closer to the creation of a new scene.

“I have a room.” You hear him try to reason with the security guard. “It’s not called loitering if I am a guest.”

You can’t hear the security guard, but it seems like Wonwoo’s bluntness is not a strong enough source of logos for the guard. And the guard stands in front of the illustrator, fully unconvinced that the man wearing a suit and holding his work briefcase would be any other out-of-town guest. And one look of pure panic on Jeon Wonwoo’s stupidly handsome-looking face sends you on autopilot, making your way to his side for no good reason.

“Babe.” You lie through your forced smile while looping your arm around his right arm. “Where were you?”

His arm jerks in the tiniest bit before it relaxes as if he hesitated for a moment before making his decision. Of course, another explanation could simply be because he experienced a negative bodily reaction to your mere presence. Flabbergasted, he would mutter. The nadir of today’s excitement. And you would hate him even more for using vocabulary without incorporating any malapropisms. He is as pretentious as the outfit he wears.

“Baby,” he grits through his teeth. “This gentleman seems to think I’m stalking the halls like some animal out to hunt its prey.”

“Sorry, Sir.” You pout at the security guard, hoping your natural pathos could appeal to the man. “My husband has a tendency to walk around whenever he’s bored. It’s been a while since we went on vacation, and he clearly has too many thoughts in his head. You see his outfit? It’s a bad habit.”

The security guard strokes his chin and nods, eying Wonwoo’s ineffable outfit. He wonders why the man in front of him would pack a business suit for a vacation in the mountains, but he doesn’t want to be the one too quick to judge. Rather, he agrees with the fact that the suit actually fits the man very well. If the man wasn’t stalking the hallways just a few moments ago, he would’ve asked him about which tailor he sees. “If he’s so bored, why don’t the two of you join couples night tonight? Winners get a free bedroom upgrade. And between you and me, I heard there’s a famous author who’s staying with us,” he whispers the last portion, a quick cheeky wink.

You don’t realize that you are still grabbing onto his arm until you dragged him into your room. And he shrugs you off, taking the extra step to smooth out his suit fabric while looking through your vanity mirror before turning to you.

“You have the grip of a snapping turtle,” he scoffs while looking around your room.

It is a standard room with a single queen-sized bed at the center of the room. If it were not for the carpeted floors, the entire room would look like a wooden box from its Western Red Cedar planks that make up the four walls to the wooden paneling that covers the ceiling, giant circular wooden beams that keep the ceiling steady by design. The rooms in this lodge are a termite’s dream feast and an art deco enthusiast’s nightmare. Even the bedframe is made of logs, cylindrical in every piece, and the bedsheets are of deep burgundy red bordered with silhouettes of black bears as if it came straight from the video game your cousin was so obsessed with a few Summers ago.

What catches his eye is not the fact that your duffle bag is thrown across your bed, nor the fact that the lamps in your rooms may as well be oil lamps. Rather, he stares at the door to the right of your mounted television, the divider between your room and your neighbor’s. And you can’t help but wonder what is going on in that head of his.

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

“How long did it take for you to think of that comeback?” His attention is drawn away from the door and aimed toward you. “Just because I compared you to a turtle didn’t mean you had to act like one.”

Your jaw drops and becomes your turn to scoff at him, loudly. You cannot believe what you are hearing, and your breathing becomes shallower as you glare at him. “Are you kidding me? Me helping you literally saved you from being pathetically kicked out by the security guard. You should be happy I didn’t record it and post it online.”

“Like you would have enough followers for it to go viral,” he sneers while taking a step toward you. “And I never asked you for help.”

“Loitering in the hallways? Wearing a business suit when you’re supposed to be at the retreat?” Now there is almost no space between the two of you. And you reach over to his chest, grabbing the plastic nametag that dangles from his neck, and holding it up to his face. The item feels as cold as the person who wears it. “Wearing your work badge? Fine, I’ll admit I have no idea why you’re here. But if you thought that walking around and waiting for some author to come out of their room and have some preplanned accidental meet cute could work, then you’re so wrong. And I’m not going to let you defame our company just because you have no social skills whatsoever.” You let go of the item you’re holding, letting it drop against his chest.

“Okay, I’ll be the bigger man and admit that I was waiting for the author my team wants to work with to show up. But talking about defaming the company? You want me to care about what you say when all of that was coming from someone who would rather let some random man verbally degrade their worth than to stand up for themselves? You’re all bite and no tongue. Just like a snapping turtle,” he says, his face entirely without emotion.

“SNAPPING TURTLES HAVE TONGUES. DUMBASS,” you snap at him.

“That’s exactly what a snapping turtle would say,” he challenges you.

The thing is, Jeon Wonwoo likes to keep things short even though he is not as quick-tempered as you are. He prefers to relay everything he wants to say at once, saving anybody from asking for clarification. Yet, you can feel that Wonwoo only seeks to maim you with his words. Even at your most imperturbable composure with your intern, you cannot stand being alone in a room with Wonwoo once he starts opening his mouth to speak. And stupidly and repeatedly you let his elementary quips affect you like rubbing salt on an open wound. The laceration in your heart.

“You’re so rude Jeon Wonwoo. No wonder I hate you more and more every single day. You’re the single-most worst person in the entire world, and I hate how I once considered us friends.”

He looks like he has something to say to you but mentally drops the notion. Instead, he sighs and makes his way to the door beside your television, unlocking the knob and opening the door. He doesn’t make some offhanded comment about being your neighbor and only quietly closes the door behind him, making sure it’s locked with a tiny click.

three

It is a tiny office breakroom, the kind with a beige refrigerator whose motor is a little too loud, a low-watt microwave, and light green walls decorated with random pen marks from the lodge workers signing up for holiday potlucks. The late afternoon sunlight shines in an ethereal orange glow through the window, casting what could be the day’s last warm ray across the round wooden table in the middle of the room. Central heating runs throughout the building, and the lodge manager sits in the hot seat, his hands folded in front of him while he stares at you and your “husband.”

“Darling?” A nice elderly receptionist on break holds up a bag of mini marshmallows, the tri-colored kinds you can only find in baking stores, and points to it with her manicured finger. “Marshmallow?” she asks you from her place near the kitchen cabinets.

“No thank you,” you reply, your hands wrapped around a warm disposable cup filled with generic brand instant hot chocolate. Gratis, courtesy of the elderly receptionist before the manager arrived to talk to the two of you.

You bring the sugary drink to your lips, blowing softly and watching the steam disappear into the air. The drink itself, velvet chocolate that coats your tongue, is a warm invitation to this little town in the middle of nowhere. However, you cannot help but feel the only thing – or person – that unwelcomes you is the man who tries to angle his body away from you and the manager if the two of you ever cause trouble for your neighbors. Again.

“Look, we’re not going to kick you out. It would be inhumane to kick someone out during a snowstorm. And also we’re all kinda snowed in…actually, we’re super snowed in so nobody is coming in or out at this point. Funny how it was sunny earlier, right? Anyway, word has it that the two of you are married. So why don’t you two take some time to work things out, yeah? I’m no relationship counselor, but this is a small lodge in a small town so word gets out fast. So, seeing how far the two of you are sitting apart from each other, maybe channel that pent up anger into some competitive spirit during couple’s night because we can’t have you two being loud and arguing elsewhere. And I hate to be the bad guy here, but no more calls from your neighbors complaining about the two of you arguing or else we will contact authorities. Alright? Just keep it down and work it out, would ya?”

The manager’s lengthy spiel is immediately followed by silence, although not awkward, but one that provokes thought. And when you sense Wonwoo, being the smartass he is, open his mouth to counter his marriage status, and you immediately kick him in the shin with the heel of your tennis shoe. And he folds like his latest pop-up book, glaring at you while trying not to wheeze in pain. A fake smile and a solemn pledge to not bother the other patrons for the rest of the night are enough for the two of you to be excused from the conversation with the manager.

But not from each other.

How you ended up blindfolded and dizzy with a bat in your hands while Wonwoo angrily yells at you from the sidelines is beyond you. For the time being is what the two of you agreed with, albeit this one is far from Ruth Ozeki’s version. It’s a small promise to try to prove the two of you are more than amicable: attend a few games and activities together with the other couples, attempt to act like a married couple, and dip after an hour.

After twelve elephant spins with your forehead against the baseball bat, you and the other blindfolded contestants try to cross to the other side of the banquet hall in order to smash one of the many squashes on the large blue-colored plastic tarp laid across the floor. And Wonwoo, along with the other separated pairs, barks into the open air in the direction he wants you to move.

The funny thing is, you would expect to hear him call your actual name out of all of the pet names being thrown around, but Wonwoo cannot yell for the life of him, so much to shout your name in public. So even though you hear a bunch of people getting confused with the various forms of “honey” and “baby” being called out, you struggle to find his voice amidst the cacophony of shouts. Once the physical dizziness from spinning around evaporated, you feel a new kind of dizziness from being agitated as an aftereffect of trying to find Wonwoo’s voice in the middle of the crowd. By the time you decide on giving up, the shrill sound of a whistle signaling the end of the game fills the air. Shrugging the blindfold off your face, you look around to see the aftermath. While the other pairs are on the other side of the room surrounded by broken pieces of squash, there is only one man standing in front of you alone and separated from the others.

Your breathing hitches when you realize he’s walking towards you – long, even strides like the romantic lead in a movie. By the time he places himself in front of you, your baseball bat is in his hand while your cheek is in his other.

“It was hard, wasn’t it?” he whispers while looking into your eye.

Except you can’t help but train your eyes elsewhere, unable to look him in his eyes while it feels like your heart is beating erratically. And even though you know very well how he is faking everything, you can’t help but regress to the same you, the same you who is so helplessly in love with the man you hate. The same you who spends every day wondering how did the two of you end up that way.

“You only took the bat from me because you’re scared I might whack you with it. And not going to lie, I was contemplating it,” you mumble.

“It’s okay babe.” He tries to cheer you up, a slight undertone of insincerity in his voice. He continues to ignore your statement. “You did your best. Snapping turtles are slow, but they still manage to survive.”

Ignoring the fact that Wonwoo’s hand is warm because he has warm packs in each of his loungewear jacket pockets (and the fact that he refused to share one with you), someone catches your eye in the distance. Where workers are cleaning up the aftermath of the squash game, a familiar-looking man stands to the side where some lodge patrons flock around him with rectangular objects in their hands. Once you see him turn his head your way, your entire body freezes – Wonwoo’s touch suddenly begins to feel cold against your skin. And Wonwoo, who was expecting you to get mad at him for calling you a turtle, can’t help but notice your state of panic. And he not so subtly turns around to see who could be causing you so much fear.

“Oh my,” he mutters, coming to his realization.

“I can’t believe –” you begin before Wonwoo interrupts your train of thought.

“I hope he rots in hell before he can get his next book deal,” he almost spits at the man from several feet away. He drops his hand from your cheek and takes a tiny step back before taking a deep breath as if he is about to ask you something that he would regret, “Do you mind staying a little longer? I want to make sure chauvinists never win book upgrades.”

“Room upgrade,” you correct him while glaring at the other man from afar.

“What?”

“You misspoke.” You guide your attention back to the man who is, for what you think is the first time, looking at you attentively and without malice. And the fact that he is looking at you amicably makes your brain go haywire, but you subdue your thoughts and continue the conversation. “It’s the ‘room’ upgrade that we’re trying to stop him from winning.”

“Book upgrade or room upgrade, it’s the same thing.” He frowns while tapping the end of the bat against the ground. “It turns out your pickup truck man is the author my team is after. But I’d rather be jobless than to work with someone like him.”

So he works with you, absolutely demolishing the competition during the Dinner and Paint section and loudly cheering for you while you stacked plastic cups. And the way he smiles at you, lovingly and with the glimmer reflected from the ceiling lights contrasted against the cocky attitude he surrounds himself with when one of you wins a game – it almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to hate him. How easily he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly against his embrace so much that his cologne lingers on your clothes, leaves you feeling hopeless. Because the only time Jeon Wonwoo could ever approach you without visibly withering in repulsion is when he acts like he is in love with you.

Outside the cozy lodge, the Sun sets its rays on the heavy layers of snow. While the Earth turns to face the other way, the rays wash the pillowy white crystals in a warm and deep burgundy orange – a warm embrace, a promise to return, before parting for the night. As you clean Wonwoo’s smudged glasses with the hem of your shirt, he sneaks his right arm around your waist while he leans further into his seat as the Couple’s Night host announces the next game. You feel something warm enter the pocket of your jacket and look down to see Wonwoo’s hand back on your waist. The untouched hand warmer gradually feels hotter in your pocket when you gently place your fake husband’s glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He whispers a small “thank you,” and you can only smile back at him with a heaviness in your heart that only you can carry.

The hand warmer feels like it would burn through your clothes at any second.

four

“Team Snowball, what did your partner answer for the question: ‘What is your partner picky about eating?’” The emcee points at the woman sitting next to you who gladly flips her sketchbook around for the other half of the room to see. She squints her eyes, trying to read the woman’s squiggly writing, and smiles when she realizes it’s a match. “Soft grapes? It’s a match. Point to Team Snowball.”

Despite everything going around you, you can’t help but fidget in your seat, the sketchbook’s pages starting to feel damp in your sweaty palms. Wonwoo sits with the separated pairs across from you. He crosses his legs, and his sketchbook lays comfortably across his lap so he can twirl his black marker in his hand. Even when you know you wrote the correct answer to Wonwoo’s food preferences, the two of you are still several points behind the other teams. Your stomach cannot help but feel queasy every time you embarrassingly flip your sketchbook for others to see. Because every single wrong answer about your “husband” whom you love very much feels like a punch in your gut every time you hear snickers from the others around you.

Seafood is your answer; you’re the last to answer this round’s question. You earn a small cheer from the woman reading your answer and a small smile from Wonwoo. He sneaks you a tiny thumbs up, the tip of his thumb poking out of his sweater.

“Next question,” dictates the emcee. “When did you know they were the one?”

It’s an abstract question – one that doesn’t necessarily need matching answers from both sides. Still, you look across to look at Wonwoo, uncertain whether or not he would put much thought into an answer he would have to pull out of thin air. Uncapping his marker with his mouth, he pulls the sketchbook closer to him to scribble down whatever comes to his mind. The action leaves your mouth feeling dry: one, obviously, because he uncapped the marker with his mouth; and two, he was the first to start writing.

Some answers are simple. Some answers are meaningful. Some answers are like yours – “love at first sight.”

Corny, overused, and unusual, your answer is the safest route you knew you could take. And despite how clichéd your answer is – its timelessness, its Hallmark-ability – still garners a series of awws from everybody around you. Technically, there is some truth to your answer. You developed a tiny crush the first time you saw him at the office. Who wouldn’t? He surrounds himself with illustrations of anthropomorphic animals and has a laugh that bellows and fills any room with joy. He made your days brighter by simply existing.

Now, the brightness struggles to navigate its way through the thick fog. And you’re left alone in the cold, the fog’s misty droplets clinging onto your skin.

It’s weird how in this life, time moves linearly, but moments and experiences with others exist in intervals – interludes that we can relive over and over again through memories. Sometimes we experience interludes of happiness, interludes of pain, and interludes where it only seems like there are only two people in this world. But nobody can determine how long these interludes can last and for how long you can try to hold on to these moments before letting go.

“Let’s see if Team Turtle can earn a point. Please show us your answer.”

“I’m kind of embarrassed,” he softly chuckles, voice more sonorous than ever, while standing his sketchbook on his knee.

9 pm is his answer. You, and the rest of the people sitting beside you, cannot help but gaze at his answer in confusion.

It is only when he sees you staring at him he finally clarifies, “When we were sitting in my car eating donuts while the waves crash on the shores in front of us. You smiled at me with pieces of maple donut glaze stuck to your upper lip.”

You. He speaks in the second person and looks directly at you with a soft gaze. It couldn’t be, you think. But it is true, you recognize his diction as true. He’s speaking to you.

And you remember that shared moment in the front seats of his car, the night of the work trip. The donuts were for the poet, but the two of you had the door slammed in your faces before being able to hold a full conversation with the poet. And after an entire day of confusion and apologies, the two of you were finally able to fulfill your portions for the work trip. Who knew that the tiny suggestion of walking along the pier after dinner would turn out disastrous – frigid ocean winds strong enough to blow people away? The clothes the two of you packed were not meant to sustain harsh winds but harsh sunlight – after all, the work trip’s destination is a beach town. So the two of you sat in his car, eating donuts, people-watching, and sharing anecdotes to get to know each other better. It was the type of conversation that you would do anything to prolong its duration, the type of conversation with the right type of person.

“You were so happy,” he finishes.

You were so happy, it echoes in your head.

Are you happy now?

“How about you?” The emcee turns to you for clarification. “Your partner gave us such a beautiful explanation. So, you have to explain your ‘love at first sight.’ Tell us about it.”

“Ohh,” Wonwoo begins awkwardly while giving an equally awkward chuckle. “You don’t have to if you do-”

“I was having a really bad morning.” You smile into your lap and look up at your supposed husband. You don’t know why or how the full day with unease bubbling inside of you dispersed so quickly after Wonwoo’s particular answer. But you launch into your story, letting the words flow out of your mouth like melted snow on a grassy hill under the bright Sun. “A really bad morning. I ended up working overtime and accidentally missed my morning alarm. I had to chase the bus while my hot coffee poured out of its opening and onto my skin. My entire day at the office was a mess because I kept messing up. I felt awful and exhausted. So I worked overtime for the second day in a row to clean up my errors. Someone places hot green tea in front of me, the free ones at the office. There is a doodle of a stingray with the dumbest-looking smile on its face. It looked so pathetic that it made me feel a little better about myself. He says that he accidentally boiled too much hot water and thought to make a cup for me. And then he holds his own up in front of his face. There’s a picture of a cat wearing glasses. ‘You can do it,’ he tells me in a squeaky voice. And he leaves. We don’t meet again for about a month, but his kind gesture pieced me back together. And I held onto his kindness for days.”

He stares at you, a few strands of his hair out of place and in front of his eyes. He doesn’t care to move them back in place. There’s that smile on his face, the exact one you imagined to be on his face that time he sat on the other side of your shared door. Soft coral lips relaxed, but the cupid’s bow is slightly perked as the corners of the lips turn upward. He tries to hide the fact that he is smiling, keeping his happiness hidden and only to himself.

So you smile at him. An honest, genuine smile where the cheeks kiss the lower lashes. And his lips stretch thinly so that his brilliant white teeth shyly make their way into the open. He smiles back at you.

Musicians know that an interlude, in music, is an interrupting or intervening passage that connects different parts of a song. An interlude can also be a song in an album. In other words, there are different ways for musical interludes as well as temporal interludes to exist. Now, there is a new interlude in your timeline, this shared moment where two timelines from two completely different lives collide and converge. Anybody can tell that this shared moment is filled with happiness and understanding…perhaps, even longing.  

But what do you call it when these two timelines have converged in the past? If two timelines that once converged reconverge at a further point on the timeline, did that initial interlude ever truly end? Are interludes simply short periods in our lives if these interludes stay in our timelines forever, even when the moments they denote end?

Nevertheless, at this moment, you know you’re happy. And you can only hope the man who sits across from you, the one who looks at you with a reminiscent expression you once experienced so long ago, is feeling the same way.

“Okay. We’re in third place. If we win this one, then we’ll be a point ahead of them.”

“I tied it pretty tightly. Is the tightness okay with you?” Wonwoo frowns from below you, seemingly exploring a different problem at hand. He inspects the rope he tied around your leg, poking and prodding at different sections. “It’s a three-legged race, but I don’t want you getting hurt from an accidental rope burn because I tied it too tightly.”

“Wonwoo, it’s fine.” You pat his left shoulder, letting him know he doesn’t have to worry.

He grabs your stretched hand, and you help hoist him upwards. But there is an apparent frown on his face.

“Why do you still call me Wonwoo,” he mumbles while wrapping your arm around his back and on his waist. There is a tiny pout on his face pointed downwards as he naturally loops his arm around your shoulders like he had done it a thousand times. “Are you not comfortable with calling me ‘babe?’ Any other name also works.”

Deep down, or not even deep down, you know he is right. You are uncomfortable with the idea of casually calling him by these pet names over and over again. Calling him by fake pet names, not counting the many idealistic scenarios that once played in your head, in this case, feels very wrong. His sudden change in attitude towards you as well as his overall demeanor after the last game left you in shock. A plot twist in a season finale would be less shocking than what you feel at this very moment. Like every other hypothetical person in your situation, you choose to ignore your problems by focusing on your other problems at hand. Because you know very well, allowing yourself to fully play into this fake husband rouse, even in times when you’re truly happy, would only hurt you in the end. And you’ve been hurt by him before, not really sure if you ever fully healed.

But you can’t deny he looks and seems nothing like the literal he-devil he was this morning. In fact, he seems to be the opposite. Even without being physically tied to you, he trails behind you like a lost puppy and clings onto your sleeve like a cat who kneads dough on your arm, nails hooked onto the fabric of your clothing. And you let him hold you close to him so much that he leans his chin on your shoulder while listening to others talk. And you let his hair tickle your scalp and would let him melt into you if he asked.

Getting hurt by the same man twice does not make a right. Succinctly, it only makes you dumb. So, to protect yourself, you use the image of the screaming man from the morning to remind yourself that everything is a rouse no matter how much you enjoy each moment with the illustrator.

The three-legged race’s course starts in the banquet hall, passes through the hallway and into the lobby, takes several twists and turns throughout the sitting area, and finishes in the banquet hall. Wonwoo takes the lead, firmly holding you against him while he chants “in, out, in, out” to direct how the two of you should speed-walk. But the excitement of the games and the promise of the upgraded room must have gone over the heads of several of the teams, causing each team to speed walk into a sprint once they left the banquet hall.

Wonwoo and you are also victims of wanting to win, or at least of wanting to beat the author. But in this incredibly small lodge, there are only so many paces you can take before having to try to squeeze past another team. And Wonwoo practically hoists you onto his foot without notice, penguin-walking you to make it past another team to navigate through the sectioned seating area.

Startled by his sudden lack of communication, you demand he set you down. “Let me go,” you grunt after being jostled against one of the round wooden tables. You are absolutely sure your hip would bruise in the morning if he bumped you into one more object. “It’d be easier if one of us walks ahead of the other.”

Does it look like I care?” His ego slips from his tongue, completely coating the sweet words that came out of his mouth before the game started. His sudden change in tone catches you by surprise. “I’ll buy a sled from the gift shop if it means I get to drag you instead of hauling you around.”

“It’s just a game.” You try to push yourself off of him, annoyed that he’s suddenly being uncooperative with you. In the meantime, the team behind the two of you catches up and pulls ahead. “Let me go before one of us gets hurt.”

Wonwoo’s eyes aren’t trained on you. Instead, he stretches his head to look at the few teams in front of the two of you. Surprisingly, the two of you make it out of the seating area without any trouble. Before the two of you can make a sprint back toward the banquet hall, you pull yourself away from Wonwoo, yanking his arm off of your shoulder.

“Babe, come on.” He holds out his hand for you to grab onto. “We’re going to end up being last.”

But your hand never reaches out to meet his.

“Babe? Are you serious? Are you kidding me? Are you really calling me ‘babe’ right now?” You almost shriek at him if it weren’t for the fact that the two of you are standing in proximity to the reception desk. But you are exasperated, your voice wobbles as you voice what is bothering you. “I’ve had it with you, Wonwoo. I tried communicating with you. I tried voicing my fears. But your head is so far up your ass that you couldn’t even think about the safety of the person right beside you. Am I sad and mad about what happened this morning? Yeah, I still am. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, but nobody deserves to be ignored. I don’t care about winning anymore. I feel humiliated, utterly and devastatingly humiliated by you and by myself. To think I let myself have fun around you. To think I believed for a second that you truly did care about me. At one point, I thought we were friends. At one point, I really did like you for who you were. But I guess I can’t expect people to stay the same, can I?” More words and sentences pour out of your mouth – like a small tornado that grows larger in size after picking up all of the things you left unsaid, the words that threatened to slip from your tongue all picked up and twirled into the tornado, you ended up saying more than what you meant to say.

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” he begins, but he can only hopelessly stare at you squatting in place to untie the rope that binds the two of you.

“There.” You bitterly drop the rope in his free hand. “You’re free from me now. You can go back to hating me all you want.”

“But I don’t hate you.”

“I’m done, Wonwoo. I’m done with being confused so I’m just going to give up and wallow in my room until Jeonghan picks me up once the snow clears.”

five

“No offense, but I would never spend that much time or energy on a guy…especially a guy who treats you like that. He even stopped pounding on your front door so that obviously means that he’s the type to stop trying after a while,” your cousin rants from the other side of your phone screen. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose while the cat he is looking after purrs contently on his lap. “So what are you? A masochist? You like men who treat you poorly and then reward you with like an hour of happiness? That’s literally like if professors gave you the hardest final you’ve ever taken in your life and told you to grab a free cookie after you turned in the final. What are you even holding onto at this point?”

“I don’t know,” you wail at the older man, crumpling your used tissue in the palm of your hand. It quickly joins the growing pile of snot-riddled balls of tissue at the edge of your bed. When you recline into your initial position, the shifted blanket knocks Wonwoo’s hand warmer onto the floor.

“Eww stop holding your phone so close to your face,” Jeonghan complains, “Vernon says I kinda look like you, and I can’t help imagining that’s how I look when I cry.”

“I don’t know why I still like him,” you mumble to your cousin. You honestly still don’t understand why you like him despite every single recent negative encounter with him. To be honest, your heart doesn’t flutter as it does with the characters in the novels you read. Nothing cliched happens when you see him, like how the world stops and he is the only one who walks in slow motion. Quite frankly, your days pass by whether you see him or not, but it doesn’t mean that the thought of him crosses your mind every once in a while.

“Maybe you just like the idea of him,” he offers with a sigh. There isn’t much that he could do for you in the middle of a snowstorm except to be on a video call with you and hope that the can solve whatever you have going on before his bedtime.

“I make up scenarios of him in my mind but I still prefer the real him,” you admit with a twinge of embarrassment. You can only sink deeper under your covers, pulling the cabin-themed sheets closer to your chest. Maybe you’re still holding onto the Wonwoo who existed during the work trip, and maybe, you think, he still exists somewhere.

“Hypothetically, do you maybe think that the reason why he’s so bad at everything is because he spends most of his time with children and draws instead of writing so his communication skill is basically hindered? Like how you’re good with feelings and ideas because that’s the bulk of the media you surround yourself with daily so you have more exposure to that area. So you have man-child versus person with skewed expectations on love and relationships. But then you literally have people like me…perfect in every aspect.”

“Shut up. You talk about traffic every morning but you can’t even name the model of your car. You were also tricked by a catfish.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’m sorry,” you beg him. “Please don’t.”

“My point is.” He places his phone down on the sleeping cat to use as a temporary phone stand while he gathers his thoughts. “The two of you seem like total opposites. And the only time the two of you seem to work well together is when you meet in the middle. So, have you ever tried communicating with him? Ever pulled him to the side to ask him why he’s such an ass?”

Yoon Jeonghan’s simple solution to your problem causes your brain to briefly short-circuit. Silence fills your lonely cabin room as your mouth slightly hangs open while your cousin silently judges you from the other end of the phone. It took a simple suggestion to make you realize that you have been hanging onto Wonwoo’s personality change to even think to consider the idea of confronting him about it. And Jeonghan’s hypothesis may not be wrong at all – life isn’t a fictional novel where everything can be magically solved in the incoming chapters.

“No?” Your answer is meek. You don’t know what to feel after this revelation. Anger? Despair? Peacefulness?

“And is he still knocking on your door? Trying to talk to you?” His tone is gentle for once.

“Yeah?” You look to the right side of your room where the door stands between his room and yours. Slips of lodge notebook paper often found in the nightstand drawers slowly shove themselves through the tiny crack under the door. “I think he’s pushing slips of paper under our shared door.”

“Then go talk to him. But throw away your snot pile and fix your appearance before you do. Yeah?”

“What would I do without you?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. Bye.”

Sitting on the floor with your back leaned against the door, you shuffle the sheets of paper in your hands. There are a couple of sorry notes partnered with sad and apologetic-looking animal doodles. There are a few slips where he asks you to forgive him. Then there are these series of slips – a mini cartoon of his morning, this morning – that somehow cause a small upwards curl to form on your lips.

Blue ballpoint pen ink depicts a series of panels starting with a text he received this morning. This comic is void of cute tiny animals and can only be drawn with the sincerity of a children’s book illustrator. He draws himself staring at his phone screen in confusion – you’re missing, and the rest of the work group chat has no idea where you are. And he’s worried. Everybody is worried, but nobody is worried enough to send search parties for you. Blue-figured Wonwoo rushes out of his room, completely abandoning his presentation for the author, to rush to the entrance of Interlude. Because he knows that your team always passes through Interlude, but you’re known to arrive at the campsite while rubbing your eyes, hair frizzing from the static built from your head rubbing against the headrest while you were sleeping on the way there. But the scene he stumbles upon makes him angry despite how relieved he is to know that you are okay.

The few pages that you hold in your hand are smudged with blue ink, and the ending is unfinished. Wonwoo softly rasps his knuckles against the shared door, calling out your name. When you don’t reply, he sighs and sits down with his back against the door. You feel a tiny jolt with his added pressure against the door. Still, you can’t bring yourself to confront him. At least not yet.

“I’m childish and I let myself get caught up in moments. And you were right, if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself for hurting you. At one point, I really did forget that the reason why we agreed to work together was because we didn’t want him to win. I ended up wanting us to win, or at least for you to win so you could have the upgrade. I’m really sorry for not communicating well with you, and for how I acted.”

The sound of his hair leaving the door lets you know that he probably dropped his head toward his lap.

Taking a shallow breath, he mutters into his hands, “And I wasn’t lying when I talked about us at the beach. I really did like you then. I still like you.”

“Then why ignore me? Why act like you hate me? What did I do to deserve how you treated me?” The questions leave your mouth in a flare of anger.

“I started ignoring you because I was hiding from you. I couldn’t confront you because I knew I would make it obvious that I liked you. But I guess I hid from you for too long because you thought I hated you.” His voice muffled from being on the other side of the door.

“So all of this happened because of some big misunderstanding? Just because we couldn’t confront each other?”

So it really was a simple problem with a simple solution. The revelation feels like a sore punch in the gut, one that’s so surprising that all you can do is laugh.

“I’m sorry, Yn. I really am.”

“I’m also sorry.” You feel really guilty now that you know that you were wrong to believe that he hated you. “I should’ve confronted you about this earlier.”

“Does it still hurt?” His voice sounds clearer as if he shifted his body so he sits facing the door.

“Oh, from the race? Actually nothing happened.”

“From when you fell from heaven,” he finishes with his voice trailing in diminuendo, almost as if he is slightly embarrassed from using the overused pick-up line.

“It actually hurt a lot,” you joke. “But I’m glad it was you who found me in the middle of the road.”

“Then can I stay by your side? Not separated by doors, but by your side?”

So you push yourself away from the door, turning around to unlock the brassy knob. The door slowly swings open to Wonwoo, who is still sitting on the floor, now facing you. And you awkwardly sit in front of him, not really able to meet his eyes.

“I think I have a lot to learn.” He fiddles with the hem of his sweater. “I’ll start by being more communicative about my feelings,” he promises with a soft smile. “Because I really do like you.”

“I like you too.”

There is a magnetic pull that slowly draws the two of you closer together, a comforting sort of sensation that offers a moment of solace created from two extremes. The outside world is dark. The snowstorm has long gone. The surfaces where the sunlight once touched are replaced with the soft yellow glow of several lamps around both of your rooms. Kaleidoscopic remnants of shards of light scatter around every surface. But the two of you, seemingly in the very corners of your shared world exert a different type of glow - one that can only be created in a collision like the break of dawn after a devastating snowstorm. 

“I really like you too,” you can’t help but reaffirm.

“It’s actually ‘I also like you.’” He can’t help but playfully correct you. “You’re the publisher. You shouldn’t be making these errors.” He teases.

“And you’re the illustrator, so shouldn’t you stay quiet so I can kiss you?”

one month later

At the base of a computer monitor, a tiny wooden whittled cat naps lazily next to its turtle counterpart. Two people sit side-by-side in the breakroom a few rooms away, the metal seats practically stuck to each other. While their lunches heat up in the microwave, the two happily discuss the upcoming young adult novel they are finally working on together. Under the table, their pinkies naturally interlock. The man who scrolls through art ideas on his tablet can’t help but let his eyes linger on his partner for a little too long while they scroll enthusiastically through the several concept art slides he created. When the microwave sounds, he quickly leaves a soft and brief kiss on the side of his partner’s temple before getting up to remove their heated lunches. And the partner smiles while turning back to look at him, a smile brighter than the soft sunlight that wraps the room in a warm afternoon glow.

There’s a new interlude in their timelines. In this interlude, the two opposites are taking it slow, learning to meet in the middle.

dedicated to ellie (@flowershu/@eliphant). just wanted to thank you for supporting wondernus for all these years. happy new year <33

Copyright © 2022 Wondernus. All rights reserved.

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo au #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x yn #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios

[luvv4choso]

✿ SHUT UP BEFORE I KISS YOU ✿

[•~badboy!toge inumaki x goodytwoshoes!reader, fluff~•]₊˚⊹

[•~synopsis: skipping class with your rebellious boyfriend once couldn't hurt?~•]

"toge! wait!" you holler, as the blonde haired boy drags you across the school. toge didn't listen though, as he continued to take you two to the back of the school. "we're gonna get caught!" you whine. you couldn't afford to have a single offense on your record. you were working so hard to get into the top college, and couldn't risk loosing it all just because of your boyfriend, toge.

toge didn't have the best reputation at the school. he was on the quieter side, but don't let that fool you. he was always known to stir up trouble left and right. always getting into petty little fights, or smoking blunts with his other jerk friends. most students at the highschool often feared him, not wanting to get into drama with him. because it was a known fact that if you had an issue with toge inumaki, you were not getting out of it in one piece.

what surprised all of jujutsu high was when the two of you officially became a couple. for starters you were the usual goody two shoes. always following the rules to a T, always studying and preparing, and you would never dare get involved with anything remotely bad. you were what most kids aspired to be. you had the perfect academic life ahead of you. but what is someone so kind and smart doing with a guy so careless, and risky?

so here you two were, toge was walking you to class, or that's what he had told you. but you noticed that he walked right past the hallway of your class. and then the bell rung, making the two of you tardy. it was the first tardy you've gotten the whole year too. so as you frantically whined to toge, babbling about "my record will be ruined!!, toge please let's just go to class!!" he continued to lead you across the whole school. he found your complaints cute rather than annoying.

"cmon just skip w me this one period" he cooes, his hand giving yours a little squeeze of reassurance. you shake your head frantically "w-what if we get caught??" you panic, thinking about the mass amounts of trouble you would get into. toge chuckles "relax baby, I got you..." he affirms, "plus the administration sucks anyways, they won't be able to catch us." he adds on, leading you to a random empty hallway

it was a no brainer that toge was a pro at skipping class. he knew all the hiding spots, the best hallways and lies if you two did get caught. knowing this you felt a little better about the situation, but you still were hella anxious. toge smirks as he notices you were still very scared.

"you know I wouldn't let anything happen to you right?" he hums, arms around your waist as he looks into your eyes. "right now I need you to trust me Y/N" he affirms, a hand tucking some hair behind your ear. you nod slowly "you promise no one's gonna get us? you know if we do get caught, I'll get in so much trouble" you ask "and I don't want you to get in trouble either, toge" you respond, arms around his neck. the innocence in your eyes evident as you looked right back at him. oh the way you were so responsible and smart. the way you were so innocence just made toge wanna corrupt you even more

toge smiles "promise..." but just as toge finished his sentence, the sound of heels clicking on the cold tile floors echos nearby, the keys jingling along. your heart dropped at the sound and you frantically look at toge, awaiting for his decision. toge quickly grabs your hand, leading you two to the nearest janitors closet. the moment was going by so quickly you couldn't even process what was going on.

the doors of the closet open wide quickly as toge slams them open, hastily shoving you and himself inside. he shuts the doors close swiftly, before looking back at you. the closet was narrow and slim, not giving the two of you much room to move around in. so you two were pushed up against each other. so close toge could feel your frantic breaths on his neck.

"so much for not getting caught?!" you scoff, crossing your arms. and you continued to ramble on about how this was all a bad idea. and how you two were screwed. toge rolls his eyes at your panicked state. you notice he wasn't listening and huff loudly. the footsteps get louder and louder. the drop in your stomach intensifying, your heartbeat was racing and your breaths were rapid. toge on the other hand was calm. he knew the admin would simply walk by. but with the sounds you were making it may cause them to get suspicious.

toge leans in, his breath leaving cool sensations on your neck as he whispers cautiously in your ear. "y/n, I need you to be quiet right now." he commands, the footsteps still echoing in the hallway. you were appalled by his command. how could he expect you to stay so calm while your whole future could be at risk right now?

"calm?! you want me to be calm?! I'm sorry but-" and then boom. toges lips crashed onto yours, cutting you off. you close your eyes and feed into his kiss. the sensation of his soft lips interlocking with yours. you were now focusing on him and him only. toge's hand raced to your waist, the other caressing your face. you let toge push you up against the closet. what started as a soft simple kiss was soon escalating into a heated makeout session. and as your arms wraps around his neck, the sound of the footsteps fade away.

you pull back from the kiss, a string of saliva connects your lips. you whisper softly in his ear, "I think we can go back out now..." you say. toge looks back at you, eyes half open as he reawakens himself from the tranquility that kiss brought him. toge sighs and brings you closer to him, your body now directly next to his, as he whispers hoarsely, "nah we can stay in here..."

#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk toge #toge x reader #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk fluff #toge fluff #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki x you #toge x you

[nicksbestie]

Hiii could i request a Johnnie Guilbert x gn reader where johnnie has a giant crush on reader and reader flirts w him and flusters him

Yes!!! This was so fun to write bc it's my first fic for this fanbase, so pls give me feedback!! and send in more reqs!! <3

Hallway Crush

word count : 1909

no warnings!

pairing : johnnie guilbert x reader

enjoy! <3

School had never really been Johnnie’s thing.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough to pursue an incredible education, it was just that he didn’t normally have the motivation. He wasn’t dumb, he was incredibly intelligent, but he just didn’t have the energy to push to show it most days. He was the kid who always passed, very average but not stellar grades, but every now and then shocked his teachers and classmates with pulling out a top of the class grade. He would laugh and call it his magic trick if you ever asked him about it. However, music was his thing, and because of that, he took every musical arts related class that he could during his years in high school. 

He was a quieter kid, with a much more alternative style of dress, and because of both of these factors, he was a bit of a loner. He wasn’t disliked, per say, but he wasn’t popular, and he didn’t go out of his way to attempt to gain a large group of friends. He had a few friends his age who went to other schools that he saw quite often, and those were good enough for him. He didn’t see a point in trying to put himself out there, so to speak, when he was quite comfortable where he was. Quality over quantity, right? That, of course, didn’t mean that there weren’t times in his life where he wished that more people adored him like they do for a lot of the popular teenagers. 

Sometimes it helped to be more on the outcast-y side. He could get away with silent observation, learning things that nobody had any idea that he knew about. He was a kid people talked so much around, but not to. They weren’t worried that their secrets would be spilled or spread around in any sort of way because they didn’t believe that he had anyone to tell them to, or that anyone would believe him in the first place. But other times, he wished he had more of the school, or at least his grade’s, support. Like now, when he had a massive crush on the most popular student in the entire school. Maybe, if he did, he would have more of a chance. 

He tried not to think about it a whole lot. It wasn’t good for him to dwell on things, as he had learned early in life. It caused his mental health to struggle if he stewed on a specific negative topic for too long, and even though the topic of a crush isn’t inherently negative, the fact that he didn’t feel like it would ever go anywhere was. Being that he didn’t have a lot of friends at the school he was at, he wasn’t a stranger to staring looks and laughing sometimes. He wasn’t exactly bullied or picked on, but when people ran out of new, fresh, drama to talk about, it was easy for them to turn to the kid who was never really speaking to many people. 

He used music to escape his own head, and he always had. It had been a coping mechanism of his for so many years, before he was even old enough to realize what it was, or what had caused him to need it more and more. He was incredibly musically gifted, a natural talent within the dexterity of his fingers for guitar, and it was always a calming thing for him to partake in. Sometimes he wrote his own music, but most times when he just needed a quick release, he would pick a song that he had been resonating with lately and strum through it a couple times. He would get lost in the feeling of the music and the feeling of the strings underneath his fingertips. It was always a thing that caused him to completely lose track of time, and he loved it. It was always a perfect thing to enjoy something you were also so good at. It kept that passion for it alive.

The music room was where he went during his free time. He couldn’t drive, and luckily, his free periods lined up with the music free periods, so he could always be found in that room, playing something on his guitar in the back corner. He also went there during lunch, preferring to spend the time doing something productive for his music. He really wanted to go into a career in music, and he was working so hard to achieve that despite many of the struggles he was facing at the same time. He poured his heart and soul into every song, every piece, that he wrote, and even when he didn’t like the music very much, he was proud of his ability to be vulnerable and put it onto the pages. That had taken a lot of personal growth for him to realize that to put good songs and things that he was proud of into the world, he would have to bare parts of himself for view.

It was during this part of his day, lunch time, when he was sitting in the music room, playing on his guitar. He was the only one in the room, and like usual, he was sitting in the back, not wanting to disturb anyone who could potentially choose to walk in. And after about ten minutes of the lunch period going by, there was someone who walked in, and Johnnie wanted to curse all ancestors before him for this type of bad luck. It would be the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else in the school, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been able to really talk to without humiliating himself. Only his luck. 

He didn’t speak to you when you walked in, but he did offer a kind smile when you looked up and made eye contact, before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to work on his own music. You had stopped by the music room because you had a music project that had to be completed, but you weren’t very musically inclined, so you felt very grateful that you didn’t have to present it, only had to turn it in. However, you did still have to make an effort, but you didn’t have a guitar at home, so you were stopping by to use the ones in the music room. You only knew a couple of chords, but it was the most that you knew on any instrument, so it was your best option. All you had to do was come up with a simple melody, a short strumming pattern, and that would pretty much be it, but for someone who wasn’t great at music, that was harder than it sounded. 

And it sounded pretty bad. Johnnie would never have said that directly to your face, but if you had turned around and watched him in the back corner, you would have been able to see him slightly grimacing whenever a chord sounded particularly bad. He wasn’t judging, necessarily, he remembered very well when he had been playing the exact same way, and if he felt anything, it would just be sorry for you because he could see on your face how frustrating the chords sounding incorrect were for you. After about ten more minutes of this, he stopped playing his own guitar, quietly watching and listening to the chords you were attempting to play. He listened to a couple shaky renditions of them, and attempted to play them on his own instrument. 

As soon as he did, you turned around, noticing how he froze as soon as your eyes were on him. 

“No, go on. Please. That’s exactly what I wanted it to sound like. How did you do that?” 

Taking a leap of faith, he got up to move across the room, pulling a chair up next to you and reaching his hands out. 

“May I?” 

You handed him the guitar, nodding, intently watching the way that he adjusted it on his lap before beginning to play it again. 

“You’re not pushing the strings down hard enough, and your fingers are too far away from the fret. That’s why it sounds so… that’s what you need to fix for it to sound a lot better.” 

You laughed, gently taking the guitar back. 

“Sounds so bad, it’s okay, you can say it.” 

He smiled, a blush gently dusting his face. 

“I wasn’t going to say bad. I was going to say buzzy but I felt that might be slightly insulting.” 

You shook your head, taking his advice and focusing on repositioning your fingers the way he had instructed. Strumming downwards, a smile broke out on your face when the first chord sounded so much better. Confidence boosted, you moved to the next one, wincing when it sounded worse than the original. His kind expression didn’t disappear, and instead he moved closer, a question in his eyes before he spoke it. You attempted to hand the guitar back to him, assuming he was going to ask to hold it again for a demonstration, but he quickly cut you off.

“No, keep everything where you are. Can I touch you?” 

You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. Despite your opposite styles and aesthetics, you had always found the style that Johnnie wore incredibly attractive. It wouldn’t fit you the way that it did him, but it looked so damn good on him, and apparently, he was oblivious to that fact. You wouldn’t have called it a crush at first assumption, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. You hide those feelings, throwing on a cocky look and smiling at him. 

“What exactly are you asking for?” 

He stammered in defense before noticing that you were smiling at him, and the dusty pink that had been on his face now turned a much darker red, and he just shook his head, looking back down at the guitar, refocusing. However, you thought if you were going to be getting closer to finishing this project, you were at least going to have a little fun while you were at it, especially with such a pretty boy right in front of you. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. I’d say yes regardless, though.” 

His head snapped back up, an unbelieving laugh slipping out of his lips. 

“You can’t just say things like that.” 

You smiled at him, motioning for him to continue what he was doing, and he did. He moved around behind you to adjust his arm on the guitar as well, and gently moved and applied pressure to your fingertips before telling you to try strumming it now. 

“Why not?” 

He shook his head, instructing you to test out the chord again before replying. 

“You just can’t.” 

The chord sounded wonderful in comparison to what it had sounded like thirty minutes prior, and you were so grateful for all of Johnnie’s help. His head was right next to yours, a gentle smile on his face, a little bit of pride, and a lot of blushing prompted your next question.

“Can I kiss you instead?” 

He turned his head to stare at you, nearly wide-eyed, shocked with the realization that this wasn’t a dream, it was actually happening. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reply. 

“Yes. That you can do.”

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert fluff #the tinas

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Taking care of you during your period x maknae line (skz) ‗ ❍

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Pairings : Han Jisung x reader, Felix x reader, Seungmin x reader, Jeongin x reader

Genre/warnings : reader has periods, mention of painkillers/mood swings/blood, nothing else just fluff and really sweet boys

Summary : Like the title says, the younger boys take care of you when you have your period. You are their s/o in this. Half headcanon and half scenarios.

Word count : 1.8 K

A/n : Hyung line link. Possible grammar errors, english isn't my first language so have mercy T-T

Hope you enjoy, have fun and feel free to interact if you feel like it :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jisung ‗ ❍

Hannie well... he's definetly not the most prepared student in the matter. He only has brothers. I feel like he'd lowkey be anxious in the first couple of days when the pain/mood swings are usually the worst. He's either babying you or teasing you there's not half way.

He's unhinged, like I truly feel like he'd tease you just for the fun of it when he sees that you're in a grumpy mood. "What if I told you that I forgot to-" and you'd shoot him the stinkiest side eye. He would try to not laugh and fail after two seconds, making you roll your eyes but he'd immediately hug you and kiss your cheek asking for forgiveness "I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry, you know I'm messing with you". And you'd forgive him because what else you can do? ACTUALLY-

You could get payback, that's what. And it would always be in the least expected moments too. You could've just randomly had a small breakdown, him comforting you stroking his hand up and down your back looking at you with those wide sweet eyes and a pout. And then you'd pull something like "You know, I still haven't forgiven for that thing" he would PANIC. "What? When? How?-" and you'd hold your laugh for a minute or so before telling him that you were "Just messing with you, silly" and he would sigh relieved but also lowkey hold an unserious grudge.

But then again everything would be forgotten in thirty seconds max and you'd end up cuddling while watching anime or a drama. When you felt particularly in the mood you also asked him to sing you something that would calm you down.

When it was something more serious than a belly ache or an off mood though, he would get quite tense by seeing you in pain. He'd try to stay by your side, helping you in any way that he could, wether that was getting some groceries, medication and so on, or simply using his hands to warm up your lower belly or gently stroke your back. I feel like that could almost be something that he wants to do, because you say that it feels nice and therefore he feels useful, and lowkey calms him down too.

Felix ‗ ❍

Okay, now we got a very sweet and probably the most prepared boy out of everyone. Grew up with two sisters that he adores, so y'all already know how much of a green flag it is.

He truly has been there, done that and you were truly not expecting how... normal? He would be about it? Straight up at the beginning of your relationship, you were out grocery shopping together on a normal day, and when you dragged him to the sanitary supplies aisle he just went "Oh are you on your period? You need anything?" and you just stared ad his chill expression dumbfounded. "Uh no, I actually just needed a new toothbrush" and he'd chuckle a bit going "Ah okay, next time that you need something though, ask me yeah? I'll grab them for you."

That kinda moved you? But you gladly accepted his offer and promised to tell him if you happened to need anything. And boom, not even a week later you got up from one of the kitchen chairs and realized that you left a blood stain on the plush cushion. You immediately gasped and kind of started to panic. Felix's head shoot up to look at you "Angel, what's wrong?" he leaned a bit to the side to check out the issue, and chuckled. You looked back at him confused but at that point he had already risen from his seat and untied the plush seat, holding it with one hand. "I got this, sweets. Go change if you have too, don't worry" as he kissed your temple.

You felt embarassed and mortifyed more than anything since the apartment that you were in wasn't yours, but Felix sounded so calm that he transferred the effect on you. You eventually did wash up and change, just to come back to him washing the stain in the kitchen sink. "Felix you don't have to do that, I can clean up my mess" but he shook his head gently and smiled at you. "Barely a mess, angel. Don't be embarassed, it happens. How are you feeling?" you answered that you were starting to feel pain so you would've liked to take some painkillers. He immediately told you to go get comfy on the couch and pick something to watch while you wait for him. You didn't ask any questions and just did as he said. After a couple of minutes he showed up with a pill, some water and warm chocolate in a mug. "There, sweetheart"

You ended up tearing up at how caring he was being for you and he got worried for a second, until you told him and then he'd laugh a bit while stroking your hair and leaving kisses on your head, forehead, temples, cheeks. "I am your boyfriend, of course I'm going to take care of you, angel"

And he always kept that promise, whatever you needed it was yours. He gave you such a sense of comfort that you couldn't help but be a little clingy during this time but he didn't mind at all, if anything he absolutely loved it and loved to indulge you and spoil you. And yes, brownies and other homemade treats would be a must, absolutely.

Seungmin ‗ ❍

I'm not completely sure about him. He does have a sister, there's that. But at the same time I feel like he'd also be a little awkward or maybe almost completely neutral about it. He would probably take the whole thing lightly and tease you a bit just to annoy you (jokingly).

"I wated to ask you a question but I'll wait a couple of days now you're no fun" you'd slap his arm and he'd laugh at you.

If you did happen to be in a more depressed more or be more in pain though I feel like he would be a lot sweeter. Still think that he wouldn't make a big deal out of it and I also don't think that he would be the type to baby you or be extremely cheesy, but he would make sure to do small things for you quietly.

For example; you two just finished dinner and are just having conversation, when he gets up and starts washing the dishes right away before you could even think about it. And he would refuse the help saying "Don't worry I got it, it'll take two mintes". Or maybe he'd notice that you were about to fall asleep on the couch and gently take you/lead you to bed and tuck you in.

He doesn't seem to be big on physical contact, BUT he will hug you in unexpected moments either as an unspoken "I love you" or a seemingly random moment. You do appreciate these little moments a lot, knowing his character.

And he would also give in to you requesting affection after a bit of begging. "Please? A little kiss? I'm hurting, you should comfort me" and he'd probably roll his eyes but secretly melt at your cute faces. He would absolutely regret it when you'd go like "I knew you weren't mean" and laugh at his annoyed face.

If you did happen to have a really really bad day though he would 100% worry and treat you like you were made of glass. "No, wait I'll take it for you" "Seungmin I can reach for the glass by myself" "No, shut up" and you would in fact shut up probably, lowkey finding him worrying for you cute.

Wouldn't admit it but couldn't stand to see you cry. He'd just get agitated and try to make you stop a little awkwardly "No, no, hey don't do that please" and would hug you with a pout and big puppy eyes. He would manage to comfort you though, even if it's just with a small gesture or a word of encouragement. Probably would propose to watch a drama or some tv to cheer you up :')

Jeongin ‗ ❍

Another one of which I'm not totally sure about. He only has male siblings though so, that is to be considered. He is also someone who would probably tease you to rile you up on purpose but at the same time I feel like he would make sure that you are taking care of yourself.

For example, if you were too tired or didn't feel like doing your night routine, at first he would try to encourage you to make a little effort, jokingly reminding you how you'd hate yourself the morning after. "Right now I truly don't care Innie"

He would end up convincing you to at least let him do it for you. You'd sit on a stool or the bathtub's edge with closed eyes, a relaxed expression and him standing in front of you gently rubbing hydrating cream on your face. Then you'd thank him with a smile that would make him smile back, with his dimples showing T-T

His sweet side would come out more during a relaxing time, wether it was watching something together on the couch or laying in bed to sleep, maybe even in a random mundane situation like standing close on the subway. He would rest his head on yours wrapping his arm around your shoulders, or even let you lean on him with your face nuzzling his neck, just for a few seconds before you had to move.

He's another one of those who I imagine would not baby you too much or be extremely cheesy, but just naturally very nice and comfortable to be around. Like his presence alone could make you feel better.

He would NOT be able to handle you being in an actual bad mood or crying so he'd just try to avoid it before it happens. As soon as you look lost in thought, he would nudge your shoulder with his and give you a small smile, to which you would always reply with another. If he felt a little unhinged he would try to make laugh in a completely silent subway/bus ride. And you'd absolutely hate him for it because he would be very hard to resist, wether he's making funny faces or making silly comments about something specific.

If you happened to feel quite bad, he would still try to at least cheer you up. He'd buy you some treats or do small kind things in your place, and cuddle you to help you calm down. You'd usually end up sleeping in his arms, making him smile sweetly and snuggle even closer to you, almost as if to transfer his good mood to you in some way.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This is it for the maknae line! Hyung line link is at the start of the page. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave feedbacks <3

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids han #stray kids felix #stray kids imagines #stray kids seungmin #stray kids in #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz #stray kids reactions #silentcryracha #my writing #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #lee felix #han jisung #stray kids #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz fic #skz x reader #stray kids headcanons #skz scenarios #skz blurbs

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to change how I dress in my own home?

👕 < to find this later.

I've got a doozy for ya. So my (28 F) best friend L (27 F) recently got a dream job offer in my city. Her only problem was that the start date was earlier than expected, she was living far away, and her lease required her to give two months' notice. Since I have a spare bedroom, I offered for her to stay with me for the notice period, for free.

There's been no issues with L - we've been best friends for the better part of a decade, and we had already been roommates back in college, so when she moved in we fell back into our old rhythms pretty well.

The issue is with L's girlfriend, A (also 28 F). L and A have been dating for around a year. Since L moved in, A has been over 2-3 times a week. We usually only cross paths in the morning (when I'm going/returning from the gym) or in the evening when I'm home from work. My gym clothes are usually some combo of a sports bra and joggers, and at home I mostly wear tank tops and sweats.

After the first few times at my place, A started to make comments about my clothes and/or lack thereof, but I laughed them off since they were along the lines of "sure you won't get cold?". I didn't bring it up with L because it didn't seem worth it - I know that it means a lot to have her girlfriend around since they were previously long distance.

A couple days ago, I came back from the gym to find A glaring at me over breakfast. I asked her if something was wrong, at which point she hit me with "it just feels like every time I see you, I see a lot of you, you know? Don't you ever cover up?". It was 8am, I wasn't having a good morning already, and my patience snapped: I told A that every time she sees me, it's inside of my own home, and if she's uncomfortable with how I dress at home, she can solve that by leaving.

It was at this point that L arrived in the kitchen and the conversation ended there. I've not seen A since.

So, am I an asshole for refusing to change how I dress at home to make a guest more comfortable?

P.S. Before anyone asks: yes, everyone involved in this story is a lesbian; yes, L and I briefly dated when we first met before realising we liked being friends a lot more; yes, I do realise that this might be some good old dyke drama and if so I'll take both your judgement and any patience you can throw my way, thanks.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 15

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang, word "suicide" is used

Part 1

They said you'd be okay, that everything would be fine. The bubble you so happily lived in for a week burst within seconds of stepping into that building. You drove to the school telling Billy to take his car driving separately with Stu. No one could know about your relationship with the boys. It made you all seem suspicious. Billy and Stu just lost their girlfriends in a brutal attack they wouldn't be holding hands with you. Stu didn't like the fact he couldn't be himself around you. To him, nothing changed. There would be a lack of banter during lunch but that was about it to him.

Billy agreed with you. It wouldn't seem right with all of you laughing and carrying on especially if it's your first day back. You'd be a celebrity to the drama-hungry teenagers. As much as Billy hated that fact there was nothing he could do about it. After a couple of weeks, things would die down and you all could move on. Logistically it made sense. Guy loses his girlfriend and confides in one of the few people who truly understood what he went through. It was trauma bonding he thought.

You picked at your dress sitting in the plastic chair you were assigned. Everyone stared. You didn't look traumatized to them. No, Betty Crocker looked completely fine. Best dressed as always. You heard the whispers, the rumors. The most popular one is that you and Stu were running around behind Tatum. Tatum saw you two at the party going at it and there was a fight. How a cheating scandal got her caught in a doggy door was not explained. In high school, rumors didn't need facts or details. The kids ran with whatever hurt someone the most. Surprisingly Billy Loomis was being made out as a hero. Once again the world thought he could do no wrong.

Keeping your head down and your hopes up you tried to get through the day. The first period blew by without a single thing learned and so the did the second and third. With books in hand, you walked the hallways making your way to fourth period. That's when you saw him. The group of girls some of them cheerleaders crowded around your boyfriend. Stu with a smile answered their questions trying to keep up this sorrowful widowed boyfriend act. Something about the scene made your blood boil. It wasn't cheating, you had told both him and Billy to keep their distance from you. To play their part. It didn't stop you from being upset at him for eating up the attention though.

Stu saw you storm off to your next class. He frowned wondering what asshole made you so upset. Your books hit the desk with a thud making the boy next to your desk jump. "Rough day?" He asked as you threw yourself down in the seat. You wanted to snap at him but hadn't done anything wrong yet. "It hasn't been great." You huffed as the teacher started talking. "What happened?" He whispered. Was he living under a rock for the past three weeks? Every state at this point heard about the gruesome Woodsboro massacre. Your name was in every newspaper in town. If by some chance he didn't know, you didn't want to bring it up. You wrote a note on the inside of your notebook holding it up so he could read. "High school." He read aloud making you close your eyes with a sigh. "Sorry." He whispered still talking.

He stuck out his hand waiting for you to shake it. "My name's Chase." You looked at the teacher with his back turned before you shook his hand. "Y/n." Chase pulled his hand back with a smile. He went to speak before he ripped a piece of paper out of his binder. He passed you a note that read "Nice to meet you." You smiled slipping the note into your pocket as the teacher turned around. The class was much more manageable having someone to talk to. The lunch bell rang as everyone stood up. "Are you grabbing lunch?" Chase asked walking out of the classroom next to you. "I bring my own." The blonde boy followed you to your locker watching you put away your books switching them for your lunch box. "I had one of those in elementary school!"

He looked at your Looney Toons lunchbox with wonder. You laughed remembering how the men you lived with made fun of the bright red box that morning. "My dad got it for me years ago." You headed outside as your conversation with Chase continued. Billy and Stu sat on the water fountain arguing over TV shows. "Fuck off no one watched Home Improvement for the plot. Name one other character besides Pamela Anderson." Stu blanked for a moment making Billy clap his hands together. "Thank you." Billy said having his point proven. That painfully red lunchbox caught his eye and a smile appeared on his face. Immediately disappearing seeing the blonde boy standing next to you.

"Are you sitting with anyone? You could have lunch with me and my girlfriend." He pointed over to a tree on the lawn. "Thank you but I'm eating with some friends of mine." He nodded. "Cool. I'll see you tomorrow then." Chase headed over to the tree seeing his girlfriend waiting for him. You watched the two hug each other getting a little jealous of people you didn't even know. It must be nice to be able to just be normal teenagers. You wouldn't trade what you had with the guys but you did wonder sometimes how much different things would be if all this hadn't happened.

"Hey, Betty!" Stu smiled at you as you sat down next to Billy. "My day could not have been any worse." You groaned opening up your lunch. "You seemed to be having fun with your new friend." Billy sat with his fingers interlocked and his elbows on his knees. It didn't take much to let everyone around him know he was pissed.

"Who Chase? I just met him in 4th period. You don't have to worry he's got a girlfriend." You picked up your sandwich taking a bite. Stu didn't mind you making friends as long as he and Billy were top priority. "That didn't stop you with me." Stu's eyes widened at his partner's words. You sat your food down thinking about what he just said. The sudden hostility wasn't a surprise. "You're saying this was my fault?" The air around you was calm and collected. You couldn't afford to make a scene. "I'm saying a guy having a girlfriend didn't stop you before." Stu nudged Billy's shoulder trying to get him to stop. "Come on man." Stu's neck tensed as he looked around. "There we go. You're blaming someone else for your fuck up. Billy, babe you've got to come up with something more original." You closed your lunch box losing your appetite.

To Billy, your behavior was only trying to piss him off further. It was Stu who saw your hands start to shake. You were strong, both men knew that but only Stu knew how easily you covered up your emotions. "My fuck up?" Billy sat up straight looking at you with bemusement. "You knew I was taken but that didn't keep you from flaunting your shit around in those dresses and writing your number on my hand, did it? You even helped murder my girlfriend just so you wouldn't be left alone. You're the same girl you were in middle school. Just a Stepford wife who will do anything just to have someone care about her." Billy smiled thinking he won the argument.

Your hand collided with Billy's face. The smack made everyone around you three stare at the pathetic spectacle. Stu covered his mouth in shock. Tears threated to fall as you stood up. Billy held his cheek as you walked back into the building. All his words came crashing back down on him. He realized too late that he seriously fucked up. "I didn't mean to say that." Billy said but Stu for the first time wasn't feeding into his bullshit. "You need help man." Stu shook his head as he followed you into the school.

You ran to the nearest bathroom locking yourself in a stall. Your hand shook as it covered your lipstick-stained lips. Small gasps echoed off the bathroom walls as you fought to breathe. How could something go so wrong so fast? Your head spun as Billy's words played over and over. Did he think that poorly of you? The bathroom door opened causing you to pull your legs up. "It's me," Stu spoke making sure no one else was in the bathroom. You struggled to breathe quietly. He could faintly hear the sad whimpers coming from the last stall. "Honey..." He started to talk but the name made you lose all composure you had. Your cries turned into sobs as your lungs fought for air.

"Unlock the door, please. I'll crawl under if I have to but I just bought these pants." He fake whined making a laugh break the chain of tears. He smiled to himself at the noise. You reached up opening the door for him. The girl he'd fallen in love with was curled up shaking like a leaf on a tree. It was a heart-wrenching scene.

Stu held out his arms letting you cry into his chest. "I didn't mean- I- I swear," You sobbed in between words not being about to finish the sentence. "Shhh, it's going to be okay." He repeated rubbing circles on your back. "I didn't mean to hit him." The words were incoherent but Stu understood. He was amused that you were concerned about Billy. He knew the man deserved a lot more than a slap to the face. Hell they both did. After everything he said to you, you were worried about the pain you might've caused. The bathroom door opened once again letting the student walk in. She saw Stu hold your frail body as you continued to cry. Stu opened his eyes wide shaking his head towards the door. "Um, I'll just hold it." The girl said awkwardly as she backed out of the room.

While Stu comforted you Billy sat outside cursing himself for what he'd done. "What happened?" Billy looked up ready to choke out the guy who decided to butt in. "Deputy Riley?" Dewey didn't have time to entertain the kid. "I saw you get hit, what happened?" Billy smiled awkwardly not knowing what to say. "It was just a misunderstanding. I'm not bent out of shape about it." The cop sighed. He knew something wasn't right. Dewey had seen you and the two men leave your house Friday and he saw them again when all of you left for school. He couldn't protect Tatum and that's something he'd hate himself for, for the rest of his life. He still had a chance to protect you.

"I wasn't asking about you. What did you say to her?" Billy was taken aback by the man's tone. "I'm sorry?" Everyone in Woodsboro found it hard to take Dewey seriously. They had met several times when Tatum ran around with the group of friends. Billy never saw him as intimating. He was the kinda guy who if you flicked the cap off his head he'd run to go catch it. Especially now with the cane he was dependent on. If he didn't respect him then he definitely didn't respect him now that he was limping around. Billy still didn't understand how he lived through it all.

"Forget it," Dewey said realizing Billy would be no help. He made his way to the office asking them to call you up. "Dewey you have to be in relation to the student." He frowned hearing that nickname. "It's deputy Riley and this is a police matter." He pointed to his badge and the secretary rolled her eyes. "Y/n L/N to the office."

You heard the call through the loudspeakers. Stu wiped the rest of your tears kissing the tip of your nose. "Don't let him get to you. He says stupid shit all the time. Billy doesn't think sometimes." Stu tried to comfort you but he also had to help out his friend and lover. You sniffled nodding your head. "Is my makeup okay?" The question made Stu laugh. "You look beautiful as always Mrs. Crocker." You half-heartedly smiled not believing the boy. Before you left the restroom you tried your best to fix your appearance in the mirror. "Why do you need to go to the office?" Stu asked hugging you from the back. His head rested on your shoulder looking at your reflection.

"I don't know. Can you put this in my locker for me?" He took the lunch box from you agreeing to put it away. "Thanks." With one more kiss, you ran off to the front of the school. You could see Dewey sitting near the vice principal's office. Cops were never good, especially with everything you've done. "Y/n!" Dewey exclaimed standing up. The secretary looked at him with suspicion as he cleared his throat. "Y/n I need to speak with you for a moment." With a silent nod, you both entered the vice principal's empty office. His arms wrapped around you pulling you into a hug. "I'm glad you're okay." He said thinking of the girl he couldn't save. At the funeral, he had cried on your shoulder. Thanking you for being such a good friend to his daughter. You hadn't even known her a week but that meant the world to Dewey.

The night you came over to stay he couldn't get any sleep because you and Tatum loudly talked about Tom Cruise and sang some songs on the radio. You were probably the last person to see her alive and knowing that meant something to Dewey. "You finally got out of the wheelchair!" You congratulated and he posed. "Physical therapy. They say If I keep it up I might go right back to normal." You smiled happy that things were working out for him. His eyes looked at your side remembering how bad your wound was. "How are you? Did everything heal okay?"

"I'm as good as new. The stitches fell out on their own and it doesn't hurt anymore." You poked the closed wound showing him you were fine. Dewey was glad you were doing alright. "Why did you want to see me?" You wanted to know since you saw him sitting in the office. The man gestured to the chair as he sat down across from you. "I saw what happened outside."

That was just your luck. The one time you publicly assault someone there's a cop nearby. "I feel awful about. I didn't mean to hit him." Dewey held up his hand making your mouth close. "You're not in trouble." He laughed. You could've broken Billy's nose for all he cared.

"Why'd you slap him? I'm not trying to sound creepy but I saw the three of you leave your house this morning when I was getting ready for work." You were great at talking. Your father always said you could "sell a submarine to a seahorse." Years of hearing "you should be a lawyer" definitely changes a person. Lying was second nature but you didn't want to lie to Dewey. Those pitiful puppy dog eyes killed you like a knife to the gut. You knew you didn't have much of a choice. "He said some really hateful shit- oh I'm sorry." You held your hand over your mouth not meaning to curse. He shook his head motioning for you to continue.

"Today has been horrible. Rumors have been going around and I can't go anywhere without someone pointing at me. I keep hearing about that night and it feels like I'm back there again." Your eyes started to water again. Dewey looked around finding a tissue box to give to you. "Thanks." The man smiled. "You're welcome, anyways what were you saying?" The tissues came in use as your continued your story.

"That week after everything I couldn't eat, sleep, or get out of bed. My dad didn't want me getting hurt and it was torture. I had no friends and no one to talk to. Stu called me every night to see how I was doing." You smiled fondly remembering your conversations. "He lost everyone he cared about in one night. Me and Billy were the only people Stu could talk to that wasn't a shrink." The way you talked started to make Dewey feel bad for Stu. "He loved Tatum." You watched as Dewey flinched hearing her name. He grabbed one of the tissues knowing he'd need it at some point.

"I begged my dad to let Stu stay at my house. My dad's a truck driver so he's gone a lot." Dewey looked confused. "Your dad let Stu come over while he was gone?" As long as Dewey was around, Stu and Tatum never got a moment alone. "It may be hard to believe but I am an adult. I can handle myself."

The deputy looked at the desk trying to hold back tears. If he'd had a dollar for every time his little sister said she was old enough to take care of herself he'd be a rich man. You were both stubborn and headstrong. He huffed out a laugh at the irony. "It's a little hard to believe but I'll try my best." Dewey joked making you smile. "Stu spent time at my house while my dad was home. He had to make sure he trusted Stu." Now that made more sense to Dewey.

"His parents were more worried about the damages to their house than their own son." Just saying the words upset you and the deputy could tell. Just from what you've told him so far he could tell you cared about the boy.

"When he showed up at my house that night he hadn't cleaned or even put a bandaid over his stabs. My dad had to teach him how to take care of himself like he was 6 years old." You scoffed looking up at the styrofoam ceiling tiles. "I knew Billy by hanging around the friend group. He's not the easiest to talk to. He took Sydney's death hard. Even Stu couldn't get him to talk." It was utter bullshit but he believed every word of it. Dewey knew about Billy's father's drinking problem. He had pulled him over for DUI once before. The whole town knew his mother left him a year ago. The kid had a tough run. "My dad had left for work and Billy showed up at my door one day. He said he tried to call Stu but he wasn't home so Stu's mom told him he was at my house."

Dewey listened carefully trying to hold off on giving you his brotherly opinion. "Billy had no one. He can be a prick but he's got issues. Billy told me and Stu that he couldn't go home and that school was a nightmare after what happened. I know I should've called my dad but I didn't. I let Billy stay with Stu in the guest room."

You hated the way Dewey looked at you like some dumb little girl. He was probably right but you despised it. "They aren't bad people Dewey." He smoothed his hair down as he leaned back in his chair. "If they're so nice why'd you smack Billy?" You rubbed your face feeling distraught. "I told you what he said was rude. We're all on edge. You don't know how hard it is to go to school and see the seat next to you is empty..." Dewey's gaze dropped as you heard what you said. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean that."

Dewey sniffled trying to compose himself. "I know. I know this is hard for you and it's hard on them too but they don't need to be living with you. They're upset and confused. All of you are looking for something to cling to. It's not healthy." He was sympathetic towards the boys but he didn't trust their intentions with you. You didn't want to hear it. The idea that you were some love-sick girl in need of attention was infuriating. "Is that all?" You asked ready to get up and leave. Dewey didn't want to upset you he wanted to keep you from harm.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked like a child. Once again those eyes made you feel like the bad guy. "No." You groaned. "I'm just upset about everything." Dewey nodded. "I'm not saying you have to stop being friends with them. You need friends, especially at a time like this but they don't need to be at your house." You thought about what he said. Your first day was horrible but you never once stopped to think about how Billy or Stu felt coming back to school. Your whole argument might have just been a build up of emotions.

"Okay. I'll talk to them tonight." Dewey was beyond happy the conversation went the way it did. He used the cane to help himself up. You hugged him again before you opened the door. "Have a good day Dewey." You waved leaving him alone in the office. The deputy truly believed he was doing the right thing.

You knew it was going to be hard to avoid Billy when he sat right next to you in 7th period. You weren't as upset as you were earlier. Just because you had a new perspective on his behavior didn't excuse it. It took you a few seconds to make sure this badass persona you made stayed on while you sat through class. Billy sat in his seat biting his nails waiting for your arrival. You walked in keeping your eyes forward as you took your seat. He waited for you to say something or even look at him but you didn't.

"I'm sorry." He said getting no attention from you. Stu had already jumped Billy's ass for speaking that way to you. He had gotten used to the way Billy had arguments. The moment the boy felt threatened or accused in any way he'd say the thing he knew would hurt his accusor the most. Billy thought if he hurt them first they couldn't hurt him. It usually worked in his favor but today his words hurt him more than they hurt you.

"I didn't mean what I said to you. It was out of line." He whispered still getting no response. "Would it kill you to answer me?" At this, you turned seeing the still prominent red handprint on his face. You almost reached out to touch him. He saw your hand twitch itching to cup his face like you'd done all weekend. That was one thing that really made you feel horrible. After being used all weekend long Billy decided you treat you like this. You cook, you clean, and you moan their names when they ask but it wasn't enough.

"How's your face?" You turned back around and looked at the chalkboard. Billy smiled. You answered him but you had no intention of playing his game. He thought it was attractive. Like he said before you called him out on his bullshit and this was no exception. Although you felt bad for slapping him you hoped he'd remember that pain because it wasn't nearly as bad as the pain he caused you. Billy would find a way to fix his mistake and apologize for what he did. He felt horrible for his actions. He was changing for the better it was just taking a little longer than expected.

"I'm sorry." The note read with a small frowny face next to the words. You sent the note back without giving him a reaction. Billy scribbled something else on the piece of paper before handing it back to you. "I'm an idiot." You nodded to yourself reading his words. "I know." You wrote back as a small smile appeared on your lips. You glanced over at Billy seeing that stupid grin on his face. Both you and the boy struggled not to laugh at each other. How you ended up finding any of this funny was a mystery. Stu's inability to be serious was apparently rubbing off on you.

The class bell rang making everyone run for the doors. "Don't think I'm not still pissed cause I am." Billy pursed his lips in thought. "I can work with that." He shrugged as you both left the classroom. "You know we're like Bonnie and Clyde? When Clyde realizes that he can't go on without Bonnie because she's smarter and a little crazier than he is. He couldn't have done it without her. There's a reason everyone says "Bonnie and Clyde" not the other way around." He raised his eyebrows up at you thinking that was a good response to the current situation. You took his analogy as a compliment and even an apology.

"Didn't Bonnie and Clyde both get shot to pieces?" Billy scratched the back of his neck not thinking that far into the movie. You tried to hide your smile at his embarrassed state. "They did but it was kind of romantic in a way." He tried to spin it so you wouldn't take it as an insult. You both walked outside heading towards your locker. "So you think I'm a Stepford wife huh?" Billy definitely saw some similarities but it'd be relationship suicide if he pointed those out. "No, I just said that shit back there to upset you. I'm an ungrateful psychotic asshole." Once you put away your belongings you slammed your locker making Billy jump. "Ungrateful asshole? Absolutely, but you're not psychotic." You started walking as Billy ran up to you.

"You don't think I'm psychotic?" Billy Loomis was a lot of things in your book but you didn't consider him psychotic. "No. You've got mommy issues, daddy issues, and childhood trauma. Join the club. You and Stu just did something insanely fucking dumb." You made your way to the parking lot dreading the conversation you'd have to have with the boys when you got home. "You think what we did was dumb?" Billy considered the whole plan a work of art. It was something the two boys had spent a whole year planning.

"Incredibly. Now let's not talk about this here." He grabbed your arm pulling you away from everyone else. "Why do you think it's dumb?" He was a little insulted by your criticism. You looked around making sure no one could hear you. "Because you're 18." You thought back to what Dewey had said. "We're just kids. None of us have a job. I don't even know how to do taxes!" You whisper yelled. "If I didn't make a guest appearance you wouldn't have lived let alone gotten away with it all." Billy didn't want to believe it but that night Gale could've easily shot and killed both him and Stu. You saved their asses.

"Thank you." He said catching you off guard. All you heard was I'm sorry but never thank you. "For what?" You asked not knowing what he was getting at. "Thank you for helping us that night. Thank you for taking care of Stu. You took better care of him that night than I ever have." Your eyes looked at his lips as he spoke. The day had thrown way too many emotions at you. You couldn't exactly define what new emotion you were feeling now looking at the man.

"Nope." You said walking away from him before you made a mistake. Billy stood confused. How did that manage to upset you? Quickly you made it to your car seeing none other than Stu leaning on the hood. "What part of stay away from me do you two not get?" Stu watched Billy chase after you. "Did you two kiss and make up?" He asked happy everything was okay again. "Not exactly." You got in your car starting up the engine with a roar. "What did I say wrong?" Billy asked as he tried to catch his breath. Stu jumped off the hood trying to figure out what happened between the last time he saw you and now.

"I'll just talk to you when I get home." You pulled out of the parking space leaving the two men behind. "What the hell did you do now?" Stu held his arms out dramatically. "I apologized." Billy's eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to understand what exactly happened. "I can't deal with another clusterfuck, I really can't." Billy said shaking his head. Stu skipped behind his friend heading towards his car. "Sure ya can buddy. With that mouth you're sure to cause more problems." Stu smiled earning a hit from Billy. Stu groaned in pain holding his arm. "Yeah okay, I deserved that."

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

Part 16

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

#scream #billy loomis #ghostface #scream 1996 #ghostface x reader #scream fanfic #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #scream x reader #scream fanfiction #billy loomis ghostface #stu macher imagine #stu macher fluff #stu ghostface #stu macher x reader #billy loomis smut #poly ghostface smut #poly!ghostface x reader #poly ghostface #ghostface x female reader #ghostface fluff

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART EIGHT

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, a lot of fluff but also angst, pregnancy scare

A/N: You guys voted and here's the continuation, I know some people didn't like what happened in the previous chapter but it was just for the drama. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and there's only two more to go with this story :')

A/N part 2: I still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all! 

2k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN

Pedro took your hands in his and caressed them so gently "shh baby girl, it's okay… I know you are anxious and nervous but I need you to calm down and tell me exactly what happened" he asked with his warm brown eyes, pooling inside of them nothing but comprehension and calm.

You took another sip of the water he'd brought you and took another deep breath, telling him everything again from the start. You'd been sick about six weeks or so and took strong antibiotics, which later you learned that could affect your birth control. In the meantime you'd been with Liev a couple of times but you only thought about things when you realized your period was late.

You panicked and went to the nearest drugstore, getting the first test you could find and the rest was history. He nodded and went silent for a few seconds, getting some strands of hair out of your face "so you only took one test? I mean, it could be a false positive, couldn't it?" He suggested and chuckled as you frowned at him, surprised he even came up with that possibility.

"I had a girlfriend years ago, way before you and I met, and well, we went through that. I panicked as I really didn't want to be a dad back then, but it turned out to be just a scare and nothing else, so there's a chance that's the same with you" he assured you and took you by the hand.

"Come on, you're tense, scared and tired, let's get you to my place, so you can have some peaceful moment without worrying about that piece of shit coming back"

•••

"We'll make a quick stop, okay hermosa?" Pedro broke the comfortable silence you two had as he drove through the streets. You were somewhat calmer now, though your heart was still tight in your chest and you could feel your tears lingering around, so close to breaking free again.

You nodded softly "o-okay" you whispered. It was always so hard to calm down when you were going through an emotional distress, but you tried your best.

Pedro parked in an empty spot and quickly crossed the street, going to the drugstore and disappearing inside for a good twenty minutes before getting behind the steering wheel again. He handed you a bag and started the car once more, focusing on traffic.

You curiously peeked inside and saw two pregnancy tests and looked at him.

"If it's a false positive, then we'll know when the result comes, Y/N" he glanced at your surprised face before looking away once more "I also got you some pills so you can calm down, you know, the ones safe for pregnant women just in case" he shrugged softly and went quiet again.

You placed the tests back inside and smiled softly as you found one of your favorite candy bars inside the bag as well,

The man smiled "figured you needed something sweet"

Your heart warmed in your chest as you thanked Pedro for the treat and waited anxiously to get to his home.

•••

"You know everything here so I don't even need to tell you to make yourself at home, cariño. You can take the test now if you'd like, I'll be by your side, through it and through everything else that comes after, I really meant that" he said gently and walked to the kitchen. Pedro filled his ice pad and groaned as he sat heavily on the couch, pressing it against his face as he finally realized how much his face hurt after being punched like that. He was already thankful enough his nose wasn't broken, as he was sure his manager would be thrilled to tell all the executives the actor they hired for their productions had an issue with his face.

You felt incredibly guilty as you watched him, seeing he was in pain and it was kind of because of you. You sat next to him and gently grabbed the pad, placing it over the wounded skin, where you could see a darker bruise forming.

You applied some pressure by accident, hearing his grunt and immediately apologizing, not wanting him to suffer.

"You didn't have to take the punches, Pedro… He hurt you and even though you didn't break anything, you will still have some bruises on your face, that's not good for an actor"

Pedro couldn't help but scoff softly, raising his eyebrow at you "do you really think I thought about work at that moment? That guy wanted to get to you, of course, he also wanted to punch me which he did very enthusiastically by the way, but still, his anger was towards you, so yeah, I did have to take those punches because he would have to fucking kill me before he touched you in any way" he said deadly serious and stared into his eyes.

"You don't take me seriously, and I don't know what to do to make you believe me, Y/N, but I can assure you I won't ever let anyone hurt you in any way" he sighed.

"Did you really mean what you said? I mean, about being here for me, as a father?" You finally gathered the courage to ask him. The curiosity eating you up alive, you needed to know if he was serious, you were so confused and exhausted at everything that happened, you just needed some comfort at that moment.

"Yes, Y/N… there's nothing I've been dreaming about more than having you. You are the last thing I think of when I got to bed and the first one when I wake up… I-" he blushed deeply "I've been dreaming about us, as a couple, having our own kids… it usually happens right here" he pointed at the other couch "you're always sitting there beautifully, like always and then our kid comes running to you, calling you mommy and it just melts and breaks my heart at the same time, because I know time is passing by, I'm getting old but at the same time you're the one who can give me this, because I want this with you and no one else" Pedro teared up "so come on, mariposa, do the test, so we can kill this doubt already, I know it is not the ideal but we can make this work if you want it to work as well" he said, holding your face gently and pecking your lips.

You nodded, being convinced at his words. You had no idea what you'd do if those lines came out blue, but if they did, you knew he would be by your side no matter what.

You grabbed the tests and locked yourself in the bathroom, following the instructions by the book, your mind was a mix of thoughts and your heart, a turmoil of emotions. You figured you wouldn't be able to wait by yourself and called Pedro, asking him to be by your side.

He immediately pulled you to his arms, holding you the entire time as you two sat down on the floor, your backs against the tub as time dragged on. He made sure to distract you, talking about many other things, though your minds lingered around the result that seemed to be taking forever to get ready.

Pedro set a timer on his phone, but tried to forget about it. He was focusing mainly on your body against his, your breathing against his neck and how you kept your eyes closed, in hopes things would be alright. He was clueless at what was on your mind, he couldn't even guess what you'd do if you were indeed pregnant but he hoped really hard he'd be included in whatever plans you had for it.

His phone buzzing woke you both up from your individual daydreams. It was about time to face the truth and your anxiety made itself present as you both stood up and went to check the results. You didn't want to see it, at the same time you had to see it. Your heart hammered in your chest, you could hear your ears ringing with your blood pumping through the veins. Your hands went cold and sweaty at the same time and when you finally gathered courage to look at the tests, you let out a whimper of relief and turned to Pedro, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his chest. You didn't say anything and he didn't even have to ask. He just held you while you shed your relief and happiness tears at the fact you were indeed not pregnant.

•••

You woke up tangled in Pedro's arms. You hadn't had sex, surprisingly, Pedro was too much of a gentleman for that, even if he was burning in desire for you, he wanted nothing but to see you comfortable. He loved how your eyes lit up and your entire body relaxed at the moment you got the news, he could see you were finally feeling happy again and that was enough for him to feel happy too.

Then, he insisted on filling up the tub so you could take a relaxing bath, getting you some of your own spare clothes you'd left there a few months ago and got you some things to eat and a bottle of wine.

You two killed the bottle of wine probably way too faster than you should have and your last memory of that trouble day was lying in his bed, his arms pulling you closer, wrapped around your waist as you both fell asleep.

When you woke up, you felt him stirring in bed, he was awake as well, but he hadn't let go of you yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it nor he didn't want to.

He nuzzled your neck gently, kissing it gently, chucking at how you squirm and rubbed your back

"Morning princesa, don't get up just yet, you need to rest some more, I'll fix you some nice breakfast" he whispered and got up, going to the bathroom and freshening up a little before heading to the kitchen.

He went through the fridge trying to find something good enough for you but there was nothing he could work on, so he decided to get some last night pizza and get it on a plate for you. It wasn't the first time you two shared breakfast pizza and it wouldn't be the last time.

When you finally showed up in the kitchen, Pedro smiled brightly holding two plates in hand "hey there, hermosa, I got you some breakfast, it's not the best, but it'll do honey" he winked.

You took a step closer and took the plates off his hand, placing them down the counter and held his cheeks between your hands.

"I'm gonna talk and I want you to listen, Pedro" you said seriously and saw worry in his eyes, looking away for a split second so you wouldn't chicken out at the sight of his lovely sad brown eyes.

He nodded and waited for you to go on

"I'm leaving Pedro, I am so sorry but I can't do this, it's too much. I can't just walk out of a relationship with Liev and get into one with you, as much as I love you, because yes, you were right, I lied, to you and to myself, saying that I got over you, but I also honest when I said now I love myself more than anyone else. I gotta take some time on my own, I gotta work on myself, think things through and I can't have you running after me like a sad puppy" you said, tears in your eyes as you could see how you were breaking his heart.

"I am so thankful for everything we lived and I forgive you Pedro, but we can't be together, thanks for being by my side when I thought I was pregnant, and I really loved that scenario you told me about, you know, how you dreamed of us and our kids… maybe someday that could be true, but not today, Pedro. I'm sorry" you said, sniffing and giving him one last kiss.

You excused yourself and Pedro watched you walk away from his life, his heart was shattered, but he knew he would always love you.

_____

A/N: did you guys really think I'd be crazy enough to make either of them be forced into having kids with people they didn't love? I am crazy for a happy ending, though the end of this chapter wasn't exactly happy but hey, there's still two more chapters to go and a lot can change!!! I hope you liked it ❤️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #javier peña #joel miller #javier pena #javier peña fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction

[matchingbatbites]

Love Grows - Part 2

More teen dad Steve! This shaping up to be around 8-9 parts, so keep an eye out for more!

Ao3 | Part 1 | Part 3

March '85

Steve gets more comfortable bringing Rosemary to school. Twice a week he brings the 6 month old along as he goes to class, and when Eddie asks him about it one day, Steve just shrugs. "I used to pay for a sitter on those days, because the usual one can't watch her, but I'd rather have her with me since everyone knows anyway." And yeah, that makes sense.

Eddie starts taking her during Steve's free period, so the guy has a chance to do some schoolwork without worrying about keeping an eye on his kid. He enjoys it, the time he gets with Rosie one-on-one, but he really enjoys lunch on those days, because Steve will bring her out to Eddie's van - which Eddie scrubbed clean before offering the first time - and they'll eat lunch and talk while Rosie stretches out in the soft blankets laid out in the back.

He gets some weird looks, including the occasional piercing stare from Nancy Wheeler that he pointedly ignores, as well as his own share of whispers whenever he goes around with Rosie. He’s grateful that the years of acting out, of perfectly honing his loud, unruly persona has left him immune to the chatter. All that matters is Rosie, and Steve, and making sure they’re both taken care of.

The first time Steve asks him to watch Rosie outside school hours, he is visibly stressed. Apparently there's a big basketball game this Friday night and Steve's usual sitter is unavailable, and is there any way he could watch Rosie for a couple of hours? Please?

There's a little voice in the back of Eddie’s mind that screams about it being a Hellfire night, and a baby would be too distracting, would just get in the way. The tantrum is quickly silenced when Steve shoots him those pleading, hazel puppy eyes, and fuck, Eddie’s resolve falls like a house of cards. On Friday he finds himself taking Rosie's carrier and diaper bag as Steve rambles on a little, clearly nervous. 

"I fed her like an hour ago, so she should be okay until after the game. She should stay asleep the entire time, but if she wakes up, just hold her- And you know what you're doing, I don't know why I'm going on about this." 

Eddie can't help the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches out to pat Steve's shoulder. "It's fine, man. You're worried about the game and you're projecting. It'll be okay." 

Steve nods and takes a breath. "Do you want me to meet you back here after the game? Or I can come to wherever you are to get her, if that's easier." 

Eddie hoists the diaper bag higher on his shoulder. "I’m actually going to be hanging around for a little while. There's a room back behind the drama department, you can meet me there to pick her up." 

“Yeah, I can do that,” he says, hands twisting nervously in the strap of his own bag, and Eddie leans over, nudges Steve with his elbow. “You’re gonna do great, Stevie. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you pick up Rosie.”

Steve seems to appreciate the encouragement, gives Eddie a soft “Sure thing,” as they walk into the school together, and the younger waves before they split up and head their separate ways. 

Eddie's friends are baffled when they see Rosie, her carrier placed in a spare seat so he can see her easier, and yeah, Eddie gets it. They know that he watches her sometimes, have seen him around with her, but he’s never brought her into their circle before.

Gareth is the first to actually comment on it with a curious "Hey, Eddie? Why do you have Harrington's baby?"

"Because, Gareth, I'm an excellent babysitter, and my services were needed." 

He sends Gareth a blinding smile and the younger rolls his eyes, opens his mouth to say something but is cut off when Andy smacks his hand on the table.

"Listen, Eddie. I know you've got your whole, whatever the fuck, going on with Harrington, but Hellfire is sacred, man! You can’t just bring in a fucking baby because King Steve asked you to!" 

The room goes quiet at the outburst, and Eddie takes a breath, places his hands on the table and leans forward as he levels a look at the guy. "Steve is raising this baby by himself, and when he needed a hand he came to me because he trusts me, and I agreed because he’s my friend. If you have a problem with me helping out a friend, Andy, then you can fucking leave."

There’s a beat as Eddie stares him down, dares him to say something else before Andy looks away, and Eddie nods firmly as he relaxes a bit, satisfied that there won’t be any more objections about Rosie being there. He starts the session soon after, and the interaction slips to the back of his mind as they all focus on the game

Despite Steve's assurances, Rosie wakes up after about an hour, but before Eddie can reach over to shush her, Gareth is on his feet. He pulls her from the carrier and cradles her in his arms, and when Eddie shoots him a look he just shrugs. 

"I haven't been able to do this since Maggie was a baby, let me have this, man." 

Right, Eddie forgot about the fucking eleven year gap between Gareth and his little sister. The guy probably has more baby experience than Eddie and Steve combined, and that's the only reason Eddie allows it to happen, not because Gareth looks so quietly happy to be holding a baby again. He almost says something when Matt takes her a little while later, but Gareth shows him how to hold her, how to make sure she's comfortable, and Eddie settles down, keeping an eye out while still running the game.

Over the next hour, Rosie gets passed around the table. When someone's arms get tired, she goes on to the next person, although Chris pointedly passes over Andy and hands her directly to Jeff. Eddie smirks at the slight disappointment on Andy's face, and the smug delight on Jeff’s as he cradles the sleeping baby close, shushes her gently when she lets out a weak cry.

The whole scene makes Eddie proud, proud that his boys aren’t afraid to show this level of care for a child they don’t even know, that belongs to someone they have a history of disliking. 

They're completely engrossed in the game when there's a knock on the door, and Eddie looks up to see Steve entering the room. He looks around and frowns, and Eddie feels a rush of - panic? resolve? - when he glances over to see Jeff still holding Rosie.

Steve makes his way over to Eddie, and the older braces himself for a rude comment, prepares to defend his flock, to the point that he’s surprised when instead, Steve says "You could have told me you already had plans for tonight, Eddie. I would have found someone else." 

The weight in Eddie's stomach lifts a little, and he scoffs as he steps over to take Rosie from his friend. “It’s fine, Steve. She’s been silent as a mouse, a perfect angel, honestly.” Steve hums skeptically, watches as Eddie straps Rosie back into her carrier before handing it and the bag over. 

Eddie motions to the door, follows Steve out and closes it behind them as he says "Listen, Steve, I'm sorry. I should have asked before I let anyone else hold her, but Gareth started it and he knows a lot about babies because of his sister, and then Matt took her from him before I could and-" 

He cuts himself off when he sees the amused smile on Steve's face, and he gives a confused "What?" 

Steve shakes his head. "I don't mind if your friends hold her, Eddie. She's pretty used to being held, and they seemed to be careful with her."

"You don't mind if everyone holds her?" Eddie asks, trying to be subtle, and Steve, beautiful, smart Steve, just smiles wider. 

"You know, when I got my face beat in by Billy Hargrove last year, it's because he was being a racist asshole towards one of my kids. I wasn't gonna stand for it, so I put myself between him and Lucas. He broke a plate over my head for it." He settles the diaper bag higher on his shoulder and takes a step back. "Your friends seem nice, Eddie. Maybe you can introduce me next time?"

Steve seems to be making a habit of surprising him, and Eddie can't stop the smile that spreads across his face as he nods. "Sure thing, Stevie. Get home safe, yeah?" 

"Will do. Night, Eddie," he says before walking off, and Eddie is alone in the hall when he responds with a soft "Night, sweetheart."

Tag list:

@luciana-rowan @bidisastersworld @little-gae-shit @thehumblefigtree @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcarin @estrellami-1 @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @livelaughlexa @vampireinthesun @zerokrox-blog @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @idea-less-author @thegingerrapunzel @fantasyfr3ak @stevesbipanic @electrick-marionnett @tuesdaycats @seths-rogens @flustratedcas @qomrades @artiststarme @death-the-elf @stardustonpages @trensu @otaku-bell-livemotto @thev01dd @demolvr

If you asked to be tagged and you're not in this list, it means I tried to tag you and your name didn't come up! Feel free to ask again, and I'll try again on the next part.

#enjoy some hellfire boys being soft (mostly) #teen dad steve #love grows #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joey writes #if you want to be tagged please say so in the tags/replies #edit: now with ao3 link!

[guzhufuren]

Thailand 🇹🇭 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

Full list here.

1. KinnPorsche mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple

Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.

iQIYI

2. Bed Friend friends with benefits; office setting; trauma

King and Uea work in the same office. After a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up between them, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube

3. The Sign reincarnated lovers; fantasy; thai mythology; police

The story of the love between Phaya and Tharn who used to be mythological creatures Naga and Garuda in their past lives, and were forced apart. But fate intervened, and two men were reincarnated in new bodies. Now, they work together as partners in the Special Investigations Unit to uncover violent crimes and supernatural mysteries while their love is tested by mystical forces and past enemies.

YouTube

4. I Feel You Linger In The Air period drama; time travel; bittersweet

Jom, an architect overseeing the renovation of a rundown villa, continuously dreams of a man he's never met. When a twist of fate transports Jom to Chiang Mai in the 1920s, he assumes the role of a servant to the affluent young master Yai, the mysterious man from his dreams.

GagaOOLala or YouTube

5. You're My Sky sports; university setting; coming of age

Thorn, a young basketball player follows his senior Fah to university as a result of the promise they’d made — to become national basketball champions. However, to his dismay, he finds that Fah has already given up on basketball. --- Aai has to work in pairs throughout the semester with San, 1 year footballer; in order to receive a scholarship to study in Japan, Ai must be willing to do everything to get an A grade. --- Track running requires the compatibility of the team members to be very high. Vee, who became the new racquet 4, has to speed up training to fit in with the team as quickly as possible, especially with Dome, spending extra time together to train. Is love actually a major obstacle on the path of being an athlete?

Viki

6. Cutie Pie (+Cutie Pie 2 You, Naughty Babe) arranged marriage; secret identity; crack

The sons of two companies, Lian and Kuea, have been engaged to each other since childhood. One decides he doesn't want the arranged marriage anymore while the other decides to win him back.

Cutie Pie: YouTube & Cutie Pie 2 You: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on YouTube & NB: uncut on IQIYI or cut on YouTube

7. Until We Meet Again reincarnated lovers; forbidden love;university setting

Two boys who couldn't be together in one life find each other again in another.

+ Between Us university setting; swimming club; trauma

A parallel story to Until We Meet Again. Win and Team get to know one another through the swimming club, and eventually develop a relationship. They grow their connection as Win helps Team deal with his childhood trauma.

UWMA: YouTube & Between Us: Special: YouTube & Between Us: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or paid YouTube or cut on YouTube

8. Step By Step office setting; boss/employee; slowburn

Jeng is a marketing manager and son of the owner of the company. Pat is a new team member. Jeng develops a secret fondness for his new subordinate, but in this position, he has to be strict and picky with Pat.

Uncut 18+ on Viki or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube

9. GAP The Series wlw; office setting; boss/employee; class difference

Long after Sam first came to Mon's rescue when they were kids, Sam is unambiguously Mon's idol. In order to be near Sam, Mon gets a job working under her. When they finally meet again at the office, Mon is surprised by Sam’s icy exterior, so different from the image she'd had of her. Mon and Sam aren't just different in demeanour; they stand apart in class and age.

YouTube

10. Lucky My Love wlw; office setting

In the pursuit of love, Nabdao has been doing everything. She has got her fortune read. She's gone on a string of blind dates. Unfortunately, no one seems to be on the same page as her. She starts to think that perhaps her gorgeous and caring boss Pheem could be the one for her. Then Vela, her new team leader, comes into the picture and shakes things up with her observant and affectionate care.

YouTube

11. La Pluie soulmate alternative universe

In an alternate universe where Thailand is perpetually rainy and soulmates exist, La Pluie traces the story of Saengtai, who suffers from sensorineural hearing loss every time it rains. The only voice he can hear then is that of his soulmate, but he is adamant about not giving said soulmate a chance due to having seen his parents’ (who are also soulmates) relationship deteriorate.

YouTube or iQIYI

12. I Told Sunset About You (+ Last Twilight in Phuket, I Promised You the Moon) coming of age; childhood friends to lovers; high school setting

Two childhood best friends-turned-rivals meet again, awakening an old rivalry and old feelings. They now have to navigate their lives together and the growing attraction toward each other.

Viki (ITSAY) & YouTube (LTIP) & Viki (IPYTM)

13. Ghost Host, Ghost House crush at first sight; ghosts; grief

Kevin's passion is the challenge of hunting ghosts. He returns to Thailand after 10 years to stay with his aunt's family, but he didn't know that he'd come to stay under the same roof as those hunted ghosts. There he meets Pluem, a young gardener working for his family and a spark ignites between them.

YouTube or GagaOOLala

14. Something In My Room ghost/human; mystery; bittersweet

Looking to start a new life in a new house with his mother, Phat feels something uncanny in his room, which turns out to be the ghost of Phob. Phob wants Phat’s help in solving the mystery of his death before it’s too late.

I recommend watching the extended uncut version on KissKH or Dramacool, but you can also watch cut version on YouTube

15. Manner of Death crime; mystery; dark

A forensic pathologist Bunn is threatened to identify a manner of one victim's death as suicide — something that is not true according to the autopsy performed. The prime suspect seems to be a man named Tan who denies all involvement. They team up together to find the real murderer.

WeTV

16. Triage time loop; hospital setting; crime; mystery

As a resident in the emergency room, one should be indifferent when not saving a patient's life. But Tin got the chance to reverse a random patient's death for the second, third, and countless times. To help Tol and save his life.

AIS PLAY

17.  Love Mechanics cheating; university setting

A love story that starts one night in a club — between Mark, who is drunk and carrying the painful burden of his one-sided love, and the boy who he bumps into and mistakes as the object of his affection. They spend a night together and gradually Mark falls for Vee, although he knows Vee has a girlfriend. Will the love between them make it?

WeTV

18. Wedding Plan wedding planner/groom; lavender marriage; wlw side couple

Nuea is a professional wedding planner. Sailom happens to be the perfect man for Nuea based on his visual considerations for a man. But the universe has an unimaginable sense of humor as Sailom and his fiance Yiwa turn out to be Nuea's new clients.

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on Youtube & iQIYI (special episode)

19. Laws of Attraction lawyers; crime

When working-class man Tinn's niece fails to receive justice for her untimely death, he encounters Charn, a cynical morally corrupt lawyer. As Tinn and Charn team up to delve deeper into the case, they form a close bond despite their ideological differences. The series explores Charn and Tinn’s fight for justice, even though they were on opposite sides of the fence at the beginning.

YouTube

20. Secret Crush On You “nerd”/popular guy; queer friend group; university setting

Discover the secret of a nerdy young man, Toh, who fell in love with a popular third-year senior. Because his dream is so far from reach, observing is the only thing he could do. But what happens when one auspicious day the world devises an opportunity for Toh to make himself known to his crush Nuea?

YouTube

21. To Sir, With Love period drama; family drama; rich man/lower class man

A powerful family suffering from internal power struggles is now facing an even greater secret threat, the oldest son and heir is gay.

YouTube

22. My Only 12% best friends to lovers; slow burn

Cake and Seeiw, next-door neighbors and childhood best friends, navigate their feelings towards each other as they grow up.

YouTube

23. Show Me Love wlw; beauty pageants

Meena moves to Bangkok to achieve her singing dreams. She chances across Cherine who asks Meena to join her in a beauty pageant. The girls' journey for the crown begins and a romance between them sparks.

YouTube

24. Pit Babe omegaverse; alpha/alpha; car racing

Babe is the number one race car driver and an alpha with special abilities who only has sex with other alphas. Nerdy naive alpha Charlie approaches Babe to ask for his help to become a racer himself. Babe agrees to help Charlie realise his dream, but it will come with a price.

Uncut on iQIYI or cut on YouTube

---

You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to Thailand. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy!  🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#mygifs #mine #thai ql

[mandos-mind-trick]

See You In My Sleep

Summary: After months of silence, your soulmate reappears in your dream space desperate for help. You're desperate to save him, but you're just a bakery owner from Coruscant.

Pairing: Howzer x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate AU, PTSD, nightmares, fluff, angst.

A/N: Man, I've been rather long winded with my fics lately. This one has taken the cake (lol) for the longest soulmate fic to date. I'm terrified of posting this once as I've never written for Howzer before, but I hope I did him justice.

MASTERLIST

It’s been months. 

You haven’t spoken to your soulmate in months. 

It wasn’t that unusual for you to go periods of time without speaking to him, but those only lasted days, at the most a couple weeks. Months, though? That was unheard of. 

It makes you worry. 

You know things have been happening, things that aren’t quite right. The sudden change from the Republic to the Empire with the end of the war was enough to have anyone paying attention raising an eyebrow. With your soulmate’s direct involvement, it only has you questioning things more. 

You know things, things most people don’t, about the Empire and its agenda. You’ve heard things that have been happening, things your soulmate has taken part in. Things he’d been questioning lately. 

You hope he’s alright. 

You share a dream space with your soulmate. When you’re both asleep at the same time, you can slip into a shared dream that allows you to see and speak with each other. Sometimes you can even share images with each other. Places, things, events. 

You can tell when it’s going to happen. Instead of drifting off like normal, it feels almost like you’re leaving your body, ascending into some higher plane. The world goes white for a moment before you’re there, standing together. You can’t touch, but you can get close enough to see the details of each other’s faces. 

The first time it happened, it took you by surprise. You hadn’t understood it at first, and most of what you saw were blurry, indistinguishable shapes around you. It had felt very cold and uninviting, even despite the fact you couldn’t make out what you were seeing. 

You always felt well rested upon waking, despite not feeling like you had slept at all. 

You had brushed it off as exhaustion, stress, some strange vivid dream. You had tried not to think about it too much, until it happened a second time. 

Once again, it had all been blurry shapes moving around in that cold, sterile place. You had entertained insanity for a moment upon waking, but you didn’t feel crazy. You felt well rested and almost comforted by the strange experience. 

It didn’t happen every night. You sometimes went a week or two without the strange floating and white place. As time went on, the images began to shift. They became a bit clearer, though you still couldn't understand what you were seeing. There was nothing indicative of a place or people or anything that looked familiar to you. It was more like looking into an abstract piece of art. 

As the years passed, things became a bit clearer. Images became things you could recognize, though you didn’t always understand what they meant. 

It was a couple years before the war started that you met him for the first time. 

He seemed equally confused by his appearance in your dream. It didn't feel quite right. He seemed too aware for a dream, too real. He was young, just barely having reached adulthood, you would later figure out. He had told you he was a clone and was training for war. 

You thought it ridiculous. The galaxy wasn’t at war. You knew galactic relations were getting to be tense. Living on Coruscant gave you a front row seat to the drama of the Senate. But to think it would come to war...that was far fetched. 

It was only after a handful of interactions with Howzer that you figured out what was going on. You had done a bit of research on your strange dreams and had come to the conclusion it was your soulmate link, and Howzer was your soulmate. 

When you told him during your next meeting, he had been upset. He told you about their rules regarding soulmates, but that most of them didn’t agree with it. He didn’t want to reject you, but he had to be careful. Thankfully, your shared dream space was easy to hide. 

He grew quickly, a product of his enhancements as a clone. He spoke a lot about his training, about his fellow clones. The idea made you uneasy, especially with war nowhere in sight at least that you could tell, but there wasn’t much you could do. Even if you knew where he was, going to see him was not an option. 

You weren’t supposed to know about his existence. 

Not that you were going to tell anyone. You had no one to tell. 

You’re just a humble bakery owner who lived among the trillions on Coruscant. 

He liked to talk about you, about your life on Coruscant. He liked to hear about the outside world, about the goings on of everyday people. It made you a bit sad, that his entire life had been created for one purpose, for a war that might never come. 

The war does come. 

Your visits with Howzer become rarer as he ships out. You still manage to see each other, but you can tell as the war progresses how much it begins to weigh on him. You can see the dark circles, the exhaustion in his face as he joins you in your shared dream space. He talks a lot about the battles and losing men, his own brothers. You give him the space to unload it all, your own tears falling as you listen to the pain in his voice, sharing his sadness. 

He has his own close calls. You’re there for the formation of every scar, every blemish. You worry about him, relishing every second you have with him. 

He likes to hear about your life, which remained relatively unchanged, even with the war. If anything changed, it was the influx of customers at your bakery. You saw plenty of senate aides, and even the occasional Coruscant Guard. 

When the war ends, you don’t hear from him for a couple weeks. You’re not surprised, given how rapidly everything seems to change. You only get him back for a few weeks, though, before he disappears. 

You often played over that last dream in your head as you waited and waited for his reappearance. You’ve tried everything you can think of to reconnect, even taking time off from your bakery to spend as much time as possible asleep in hopes you catch him, even for a moment. 

Yet he remains absent. 

So you continued on, pouring your worry into your work. You try not to think about it, but you can’t help it. You’ve begun to feel the yearning, the need to see him, hear him once more. Even if it’s just to make sure he’s alright. You want to see those deep, soulful eyes just one more time. 

Even if the next dream that comes is a rejection. 

***

It finally happens one night, when you’re least expecting it. 

You were dozing off while watching a holofilm. You had an early morning, yet you were up late trying to relax. You were beginning to get anxious, itching under your skin in your need for Howzer. 

It happens suddenly, your body floating before you’re surrounded by a familiar white glow. You nearly cry as you find yourself standing before him. 

“Howzer.” You breathe his name in relief, a weight being lifted from your shoulders almost instantly. 

He says your name, a tear sliding down your cheek. How you want to touch him, feel him, ensure he’s really here. You know though, deep in your bones. It’s really him. He’s really here. 

He looks tired. There’s dark circles around his eyes, and his face seems thinner than normal. 

“Howzer,” You breathe, staring at him with teary eyes. “What happened?” 

“I don’t have a lot of time.” He says, and you can see the desperation on his face. “I was arrested by the Empire with some of my men. I’m not sure where we are, but there’s other clones here. Some of them have disappeared. Others are being moved.” He looks guilty. “I had to close off the connection to protect you. If they found out...you would have been in danger.” 

You nod, a lump forming in your throat for a different reason. The relief you had felt is slowly ebbing away, replaced by anxiety. By fear. “Have you been able to see anything at all? Maybe...maybe I can try and find it. Or find someone that can help.” 

He closes his eyes, the white space around you shifting, showing you a few images of things he had seen. It’s not much to go off of, but it’s something.

“Be careful.” He says. “Don’t try anything stupid.” 

“What, like trying to invade an Imperial fortress with nothing but a whisk?” You crack the joke, but it lacks the normal light tone you would have used. 

You can see the softening of his gaze, but his face doesn’t move. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this again.” If he’ll be able to do it again. 

The reality of his situation is hitting you hard. He’s at the mercy of the Empire now. He has been for months. He’d cut off his contact with you to try and protect you, even though you know how badly you’ve both been suffering. 

“Soon.” You say, determined. “I’m going to do everything I can to find you.” 

He lifts his hand, almost like he wants to touch you, but he can’t. “Be careful.” 

You want to say it back, but the dream fades before you can.

You wake alone on the couch, the image of his eyes painted at the front of your mind. 

***

Your hands shake as you try to frost the cake in front of you. The shop will be opening in less than an hour, and you were behind on orders already. You can hardly focus, the dream with Howzer still fresh in your mind. He’s in trouble, he’s been in trouble this whole time. The fearful thoughts you had tried to suppress are coming back full force, threatening to spill over. 

You put down your piping bag, taking a deep breath. You need to work. Going home will only make things worse. You’ll have nothing to do there but sit and worry all day. At least this will be a distraction. 

You spot movement at the door, your one employee, Mina, arriving for her shift. You’ve known Mina since you were kids and would trust her with your life. You let her in, rubbing your eyes. 

“You look like a bantha ran you over.” She says, dropping her things behind the counter. 

You crack a small smile, but you’re certain it looks more like a grimace. “Just stressed.” 

“Busy day?” She asks, pulling her apron on. 

“Already behind.” You answer. 

She stares at you for a few moments as you wash your hands. You try to ignore her as you grab the piping bag once more. “Well, whatever it is, you worry about the cakes. I’ll handle the customers.” 

She goes about setting up the lobby, allowing you the chance to try and get caught up with your cake orders. It was like half the people on Coruscant were all celebrating something today. 

Mina turns on the holoTV, the end of a news broadcast popping up. The anchor’s going on about Senator Chuchi and her bold fight for clone rights despite having the majority of the Senate against her. The broadcast is saying less than favorable things about her, but you ignore it. Ever since the Empire took over, the news had become almost unbearable. Between fluff pieces and outright slander, it had become more of a coverup for things they didn’t want citizens finding out than actual news. 

You pause for a moment, something flashing through your mind. 

Senator Chuchi was very outspoken in her support of the clones. You have a clone that desperately needs help. If you could get Senator Chuchi to help, maybe you could find Howzer. But how would you get her to help? You couldn’t just walk into the Senate building and ask to see her. You’d have to give your reasoning for being there and that would put you on the Empire’s radar, or worse, get you arrested too. 

Not to mention, you have no proof except your own words. You had tried to search for anything that might look like what Howzer showed you, but you had turned up empty handed. That was partially why you were behind this morning. 

But, a Senator would have more resources to investigate. Access to information it seemed the Empire didn’t want citizens to have. 

You turn to look at Mina, setting down the piping bag once more. “Mina? Your sister still works as an aide, right?” 

Mina pauses where she had been setting up chairs, looking at you. “Yeah, why?” 

“I-I need some help.” You say. 

Mina didn’t know much of anything about your soulmate. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust her, but more that you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. Mina had met her soulmate not long after you both graduated school. She was a sweet Twi’lek who worked as an event planner. You’ve collaborated several times before in the past. Mina would understand your desperation, maybe enough to convince her sister to help you. 

You take a deep breath. “I need to speak with Senator Chuchi. It’s about a group of clones.” 

Mina frowns. “What are you doing getting involved with clones?” 

You should tell her. If you can get Howzer help, if he gets rescued, you’d like to bring him here. You’d like to have him in your life. She’s going to see him eventually. She’ll have to know eventually. 

You step out from behind the counter, pulling her back into the kitchen. You stand close to her, speaking quietly. It was unlikely anyone would overhear you with the door still locked, but you couldn’t be too careful. Not in this situation. 

“I need you to promise you won’t breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you to anyone. Even your sister.” You say. 

She stares into your eyes for a moment before she nods. “I promise.” 

“I’m trusting you with this. If any of this gets out, it will take down both of us.” 

She gulps, but nods. You take a deep breath, planning out what and how you’re going to tell her this. 

“My soulmate is a clone,” You begin, her eyes widening at your words. “We share a dream connection. I didn’t hear from him for months, but last night he contacted me. He was arrested a few months ago by the Empire. I think he’s in trouble. I have to help him, but I don’t even know where he is.” 

Mina stares at you in silence for a few moments, processing your words. It’s a lot, not to mention it’s dangerous what you’re saying. Howzer would be in deeper trouble if the wrong person found out about your connection, not to mention you would be in a lot of trouble. 

You don’t want to be on the Empire’s radar. 

“You think Senator Chuchi might be able to help?” Mina asks. 

“I have to try.” You say. “I have to do everything I can.” 

Mina’s silent for a few more moments before she sighs. “I can ask Shera when she comes in to meet with us later when she has time.” 

Tears fill your eyes as you nod. “Thank you, Mina.” 

She nods. “Just...if you get caught, pretend you don’t know me.” 

You laugh. “Of course. You’re just my employee after all.” 

***

“I had to pull a lot of strings, but she agreed to see you.” Shera says as soon as she steps through the door. 

Shera was an aide for Senator Organa of Alderaan. She was one of your regulars, and not just because her sister was your single employee. You liked to think she was the reason you got so many Senate aides in your shop in the morning. 

When you spoke to her, you hadn’t given much detail aside from needing to speak to Senator Chuchi about something relating to clones, and with a promise of free pastries and cakes from your bakery for life, she had agreed. 

You breathe a sigh of relief at her words. You’ve got a long way to go, but at least this was a foot in the door. A chance to try and help Howzer. “Thank you. I’m forever indebted to you.” 

She smirks. “You’re just lucky I like you. And your cakes are so damn good.” 

“I meant it.” You say, pushing a box across the counter. “For life.” 

“I will be taking you up on that.” She says, taking the box. “Tomorrow, after you close. She’ll send someone to pick you up.” 

You let out a long breath. It’s really happening. “Thank you.” 

Shera opens the box, pulling out a pastry and taking a bite. She waves her hand, mumbling with her mouth full as she turns, making her way to the door. 

You just have to make it to tomorrow. 

***

“Wait here.” 

You shift nervously on your feet, half expecting the Coruscant Guard to suddenly appear and arrest you for conspiracy or treason or something. Your hand brushes your pocket where the datastick is safely sitting, making sure it’s still there and hasn’t disappeared into thin air. 

You wait anxiously, trying not to look nervous or suspicious. You are nervous. You’ve never spoken to a Senator before, much less about something so sensitive. You don’t have concrete evidence, only Howzer’s word and your meager research. Despite how outspoken you know she is about clones and their rights, she has no reason to believe you. 

You wouldn’t blame her if she turned you away. 

You had tried not to stare at the clone that had picked you up. Despite his disguise, you know he’s a clone. You’d know that face, those eyes anywhere. 

You miss Howzer. 

Even though you have yet to meet in person, you miss his face and his voice and his presence. You’re worried for him. You know he’s not dead, you would have felt it if he was, but there could be any number of unimaginable things happening to him right now. Your hand brushes your pocket once more, making sure the datastick is still there, that it hasn’t disappeared into thin air. 

Footsteps approach, making your heart flutter. You’re sure you look like the nervous wreck you feel. You take a steadying breath as she appears, flanked by two other clones. She greets you by name, surprising you. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Senator Chuchi.” You say. “Thank you for seeing me.” 

“Of course.” She gives you a small smile. “Shera said you may have some information on clones in need of help.” 

You nod, shifting nervously on your feet. You had practiced what you were going to say over and over all day. “My soulmate is a clone and we share a dream space.” You start, telling her the truth in hopes it will help you. “He suddenly stopped contacting me a few months ago and then out of the blue a couple days ago he reappeared. He said he’d been arrested by the Empire and taken prisoner. He wouldn’t go into much detail, but he seemed worried. He said wherever he’s being held, there’s other clones there too. He was able to give me glimpses and I tried to do some research, but every time I tried to dig deeper, the holonet wouldn’t let me.” 

Senator Chuchi nods. “The Empire is locking down parts of the holonet. They don’t want civilians accidentally stumbling across something that might give them ideas.” 

You frown. All those feelings you’ve been having about the Empire seem to only become more and more validated at every turn. You reach into your pocket, pulling out the datastick. “I managed to narrow it down to a few places. I couldn’t do much else.” 

She takes the datastick. “I know someone who might be able to figure out where they are. We’ll do everything we can to rescue them.” 

“Thank you.” You say, tears springing to your eyes once more. You had been expecting the worst, and now there’s a glimmer of a chance that Howzer might be found and rescued. 

“If they find something, you’ll be the first to know.” She says, giving you a reassuring smile. 

You trust her, even though you know next to nothing about her. She could be lying, but the genuine look on her face, and how bravely she fought for clone rights in a Senate that had been against her tells you otherwise. 

All you can do is hope your research is enough, and they can find Howzer and the others before something bad happens. 

***

A few days pass in tense anticipation. There's still no word from Howzer, and no word from Senator Chuchi either. You know it has to take time, but you want to know faster. Have they been able to find them? Was your research enough? Had you been completely wrong and they had to start from scratch? 

You keep yourself busy at the bakery as you had been doing for the last few months. You've waited years for this, for the chance to meet Howzer. You can wait a few days if it means they have a better chance of finding them safely. 

You just hope it's not too late. 

You were closing up shop, planning to spend your evening worrying and sleeping as you had been doing lately in hopes of hearing from someone, when Senator Chuchi arrived in person at your shop. It was a rare occasion you got an actual Senator in your shop. 

"Senator Chuchi," You greet her from behind the counter where you had been boxing up leftover pastries to set out in front of your shop for those from below who roamed the upper levels in search of food or handouts. "How can I help you?"

She approaches the counter, a small smile on her face. "I have good news. They've found him."

You stare at her in shock for a moment, your brain trying to process what you had just heard. You've been waiting days for this, your mind thinking up every situation, every way this could happen. "What?" You ask in disbelief, your brain short-circuiting.

"They're on their way back here as we speak." She says. "Tomorrow when you close, I will have someone meet you to pick you up." 

You nod slowly, your brain trying to catch up. "They found him." You say it, almost like you're trying to convince yourself it's real. 

She smiles, nodding. "He's on his way here now."

Nerves begin to bubble in your stomach. Though you've spent years speaking to him, seeing him, you're nervous at the prospect of finally getting to see him in person. You know what he looks like, what he sounds like, what his personality is like. Yet, you've never met in person. You've never been able to touch him, to smell him, to really be with him. 

Your heart is pounding with nerves and excitement as you see Senator Chuchi out, locking the door behind you. In a matter of hours you'll be going to see Howzer. You never thought this day would come. You never thought it would actually be real.

***

The hours pass by slowly. Despite the busy hours at the bakery, time seems to move in slow motion as you wait for the end of your day. As you wait for the time to come. As you wait for Howzer's arrival. You've been lost in thought all day, fighting nerves and insecurities. 

It was ridiculous to think Howzer wouldn't like you. You've seen him, and he's seen you. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't have bothered spending hours upon hours getting to know you, baring his soul to you. If he didn't like you, he would have rejected you like he was supposed to. 

You're a little afraid because you know Howzer is different now. You could see the difference in him after months of whatever had happened to him. You’d support him as best you could, even if you couldn’t completely understand. 

You’re just worried he might get into his own head. 

You’d take him no matter what, simply because it means you’ll finally get to have him with you. 

If he wants to. 

You try not to think about it. You try not to let your insecurities get in your way as you wait patiently for your escort. 

When they finally arrive you feel like your heart may jump right out of your throat. It’s a different clone than the one that had taken you to meet Senator Chuchi the first time. You’re too nervous to speak on the trip to the location, thinking up how this scenario could play out over and over in your head. What are you going to say? 

You should have thought of this beforehand. 

Your stomach lurches as you land. You stare at the open door of the garage, at the light shining out from inside. Howzer’s in there. He’s in there, and he’s waiting for you. Your hands are shaking, and you’re not entirely sure you’re going to be able to stand. 

You have nothing to be afraid of. It’s so irrational, yet you can’t make yourself move. You know you should. You have to. The poor clone that drove you here won’t wait forever. 

You’re so close. So close. He’s right there. 

“You alright?” The clone that had escorted you asks. 

You turn to look at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Nervous.” 

He nods. “I would be too. So I can confidently say, he’s probably just as nervous.” He gives you a small smile. “He didn’t come all this way for nothing.” 

He’s right. You’re a bit silly being so nervous. “What’s your name?” You ask. 

“Nitro, ma’am.” He says, nodding at you. 

“Thank you, Nitro.” 

You take a breath before pulling yourself out of the speeder. You steady yourself, trying desperately to push down the butterflies as you make your way into the garage. 

Tears spring to your eyes as they spot him. He has his back to you, but you can tell right away. You just know it’s him. Gone are the words you had thought up, the practiced speech you’d thought up on the way over of what you would say, how you would approach him. 

“Howzer?” Your voice shakes as you say his name. 

His back straightens, body turning slowly to face you. Tears threaten to blur your vision as you see him, just as he looked in your dreams. His brow furrows for a moment as he stares at you before his brows lift in surprise and disbelief. He whispers your name, almost like he’s afraid you might disappear if he speaks it too loudly. 

You’re suddenly moving, feet carrying you and before you realize it, you’re standing right in front of him. You stare at his face, every detail, every line that you had spent hours memorizing in your dreams. 

His hand slowly lifts, just like it had in your dream. Only, this is real. There’s nothing keeping you from touching each other now. His fingers brush your cheek, the rough pads ghosting across your skin like he’s making sure you’re really real. Sparks erupt under your skin at the touch, the first touch you’ve ever shared. 

You close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. He tenses for a moment, before he’s wrapping his own arms around you. The tears begin to fall, dampening his shirt as you cry for the months of solitude, the months of suffering he’d endured, the years you’ve both been waiting for this moment. The worry, the fear, the anxiety is melting away as you hold him, feeling him, ensuring he really is real. 

You tighten your hold on him, hands grasping his shirt as you hold on for dear life. He’s so warm, his heart thumping under your ear.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” He whispers, leaning his head against yours. “I’m right here.” 

“Months,” You sob, voice muffled by his shirt. “Months I didn’t hear from you. I thought something had happened...I thought-” 

He shushes you, tightening his hold on you. “I’m here now.” 

You let yourself relax in his hold, breathing him in. There’s a distinct metallic hint to his clothes, and the faint hint of sweat, but you’re not complaining. 

You don’t want to pull away from him. You want to stay here holding onto him forever. Yet, you know you can’t. 

You pull back slowly, meeting his gaze once more. His hand brushes your cheek once more, his palm warm against your skin. 

“You’re even more beautiful in person.” He says, eyes shining as he stares at you. 

Your cheeks heat up, so much he can probably feel it under his hand. You stare into those brown eyes, taking in every inch of him. “So are you.” 

The corner of his lips pull up in a grin as your face heats even more. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. 

You lift your hand, pressing it against his where it’s still resting on your cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 

His thumb gently strokes your skin. “Me too.” 

It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Months of worrying, years of only having dreams to see and speak with each other had been taking its toll. The little relief you got from your shared dream space was nothing compared to having him in front of you. 

You don’t want this feeling to end. Yet, you know there’s still so much standing in your way. 

***

It’s late at night when you finally get back home. There had still been much to do after your arrival at the garage. Both you and Howzer had spoken to Senator Chuchi, and you had been introduced to the clones that had rescued Howzer, and the clones that had been part of Howzer’s squad. 

Howzer had also been a bit hesitant to leave his men, but at their insistence he had left with you. It wasn’t like you were going that far, and you wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to return to see them, or to help the fledgling rebellion. You had been briefed on their operation and sworn to secrecy, though you wouldn’t even dream of revealing them. 

“Here it is.” You say, leading Howzer inside the bakery. “My pride and joy.” 

He smiles, glancing around. “It’s cuter in person.” 

You had shown him images of your bakery in your shared dream space many times. When you’d bought the space, when you’d finished renovating, when you’d opened, and many times after as you changed aesthetics and decor. 

You smile proudly. “I put a lot of work into her.” 

He steps closer to you. "I can tell."

You stare up at him, getting lost in those eyes once more. You’re tempted to close the distance, but you don’t want to push too much. Especially not with him just having been rescued a few hours ago. 

“I have one employee, Mina.” You say, breaking the silence as you show him around the bakery. “She sort of knows about you already. Her sister helped me get in to see Senator Chuchi.” You pause by the door that leads up to your apartment. “I’m sure you’ll meet eventually, but don’t worry. She’s basically family. I’d trust her with my life.” 

You lead him up to your small apartment above the bakery. It’s not the most comfortable space, but it’s convenient and since it was just you, it worked.

You do wish you’d picked up a little before you left. 

You have crates of new bakeware stacked everywhere, along with more supplies for the bakery on the kitchen counter. It’s not so much messy as just cluttered. You had been meaning to move the crates down to the kitchen downstairs, but that was a lot of work, and with everything going on, you were a bit distracted. 

“Sorry, I’ll get this stuff cleared out tomorrow.” You say, stuffing a couple things in a crate before closing the top. You’re glad it’s the weekend and your bakery is closed. It will give you time to adjust, as well as figure some things out with Howzer. 

You straighten up, meeting Howzer’s gaze. He’s watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. You had been so focused on his rescue and then meeting him, you hadn’t planned much else. 

“You’re, uh, probably exhausted.” You say, breaking the silence. “You can have the spare bedroom.” You lead him across the living room to the door for the spare bedroom. “It doesn’t get used often,” You’re glad the bed is still made at least. “I don't remember the last time someone used it. There’s blankets in the closet if you get cold, but it gets pretty warm up here when the ovens are going in the kitchen downstairs. If you get too hot, you can turn on the air conditioning. I don’t bother since I’m downstairs most of the day and it cools off up here by the time I get done. Of course, we’re closed tomorrow so that won’t be much of a problem-” 

A hand on your arm stops your rambling. You stare down at it for a moment before you follow it up to Howzer’s face. “It’s fine.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I think this is the nicest room I’ve been in.” 

You open and close your mouth a few times. “That’s horribly depressing.” 

His hand slides down your arm until he reaches your hand, taking it in his. “I’d sleep on the floor if it meant I could be close to you.” 

Your cheeks warm once more, your stomach flipping at his words. “Well, I won’t make you do that. You can make yourself at home here. I’ll go out in the morning and pick up some stuff for you. I’m up pretty early usually anyway. Help yourself to anything you’d like, whenever you’d like.” You bite your lip, cutting off your rambling once more. 

“Thank you.” He squeezes your hand gently. “For everything.” 

“Well, I couldn’t just sit and do nothing.” You shrug. “I’m glad things worked out like they did.” 

“Fate has a way of making sure things do work out.” He says, squeezing your hand. 

“I guess it does.” You stare up into his eyes. 

You stand there for a few moments, just staring at one another. It doesn’t seem uncomfortable, the silence between you. You know it will take some adjusting for both of you. Him more so, adjusting to a civilian life. A civilian life he has to hide in. 

Senator Chuchi, and the other clones had cautioned both of you about anyone seeing Howzer. Especially since the Empire was aware of their interception and rescue. Though it was unlikely they’d send out a big search as that would warrant too much attention, if the wrong person saw Howzer, it would put both of you in danger. 

It was worth the risk. Though you occasionally had some higher-profile customers, you weren’t worried about them. You could easily hide Howzer in your home, and you knew where to go if you ever needed to run. Coruscant was a big place. There were plenty of places to hide. 

“I’ll, uh, let you get some sleep.” You say, pulling away from him, even though you feel you could stand there and stare at him for hours. “My room’s just off the kitchen. I’m a light sleeper so, just knock if you need anything.” 

You back out of the room slowly, hesitant to leave him but you’re starting to feel the tiredness weighing down your limbs. You know he has to be tired too. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s gotten a good night’s sleep. 

***

You settle into life with Howzer surprisingly easily. He tiptoes a bit, but you suppose that’s to be expected for someone new to civilian life. You return to a normal schedule at the bakery to keep up appearances. The last thing you need right now is for someone to suspect you of anything. 

You don’t tell Mina right away about Howzer living upstairs in your apartment. You want to give things time to settle, time to cool down before you share his whereabouts. You feel a bit paranoid about everything, but if it keeps Howzer safe, then it’s worth it. 

You haven’t used your dream space since he arrived. Though, with him being so close there wasn’t really a reason to. If you wanted to talk to him, he was only a room or a flight of stairs away. It feels surreal. 

Despite being so close, you both tiptoe around each other a bit. You hadn’t really known what to expect once you had him in front of you. You’re not really sure anyone knows what to expect when they first meet their soulmate. You’d had the benefit of speaking to him long before you actually met him, so you already knew a lot about each other, but yet, there’s still hesitation there.

You don’t really know each other. 

You’re a bit afraid to push, a bit afraid to start asking. He has to process it, and you want to give him time to do that. He’d given up a lot, risked a lot, and lost many of his men. That was just at the hands of the Empire. He had suffered through the war too.

He has nightmares often. 

The first time you heard him, it had been in the quiet hours of the early morning. You’d woken and heard the rustling sheets as he fought whatever enemy he was facing, the quiet mutterings as he relieved whatever horrible thing he was facing. 

You had debated getting up, but ultimately decided on it, not wanting to force him to continue to suffer through his nightmare. You got up and slipped to his room, watching his body jerk on the bed, brows pinched in a frown. 

“Howzer?” You asked, stepping closer to the bed. 

His eyes snapped open, body jerking upright. You suddenly found yourself with a blaster pointed at your chest. You stumbled back a step, gasping in shock. Clarity crosses his features, the blaster in his hand shaking as it stays pointed at you. 

He curses, the blaster slowly lowering. You can see the guilt, the regret in his gaze. You slowly move to his side, gently peeling his fingers from around the blaster. You drop it on the bed behind you, sinking down next to him. You’re not sure when he had gotten the blaster, but you can understand why he would feel he needed it. He’d practically been born with a blaster in hand. Of course having one now, especially in such a vulnerable situation, had to be comforting. 

“I could have shot you.” He gasps out, his breaths shaky. 

You lace your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.” 

“I could have killed you.” He says, voice shaking. 

“But you didn’t.” You say, turning his face to look at you. “I’m alright. It was my fault.”

You can see the tears shining in his eyes from the dim light coming in the window. You hate it, you hate his suffering, you hate that he’ll blame himself for this. You hate that you feel so helpless, but you know there’s some things he has to work through on his own. 

You can’t magically heal all of him. No matter how badly you wish you could. 

***

The nightmares continue

You wake up hearing his gasps and grunts, the thrashing of his body in the sheets often. Ever since he pulled a blaster on you, you’ve been hesitant to wake him. You had been lucky he hadn’t fired, that he’d woken quickly enough to realize what was going on. Realize who was standing in front of him. 

Instead you do research. He had figured out a way to control the dream space, to keep it from happening after he was arrested by the Empire. You hadn’t used it since he contacted you before his rescue, but perhaps you could figure out a way to use it to help him. 

In your research you learn dream spaces are controlled entirely by the soulmates themselves. It’s mostly done on a subconscious level after the first initial dream. The yearning, the need to see your soulmate drives the pull into the dream space. If both are asleep at the same time, one can pull the other in. One can also shut off the dream space from the other, even without rejection. 

So Howzer in his desperation to keep you safe had subconsciously cut off your dreamspace for months. It had only opened back up when he had wanted to contact you. When he needed to contact you. 

Perhaps you can use that to your advantage. 

You wait until Howzer has another nightmare before you try it. It takes a few minutes, some deep thinking, until suddenly you’re floating on that familiar feeling, the world around you going white. 

He’s there, looking around in shock. He’s breathing heavily, eyes still wide with fear. He says your name in confusion, brows pinching as he frowns. 

“I did it.” You say, stepping up to him. “It worked.” 

His frown deepens. “What did you do?” 

“You can control the dream space.” You explain, telling him everything you’ve learned. You want to help him with his nightmares, and this was the safest way for both of you. Not that you thought he’d pull a blaster on you, or shoot you, but you could never be too careful. 

“Thank you.” He says, relaxing a bit as the nightmare falls away, left in the past. 

“You know you can talk to me.” You say. “I can’t really understand what it was like, but you know I’ll listen.” 

His gaze drops, shoulders slumping. “I don’t want to scare you away.” 

You shake your head, wishing you could touch him. “You won’t scare me. Nothing you could say would scare me. Let me help you. I want to help you.” 

He slowly lifts his gaze, his eyes meeting yours. You give him a small smile, wishing you could reach out and smooth the small frown pinched between his brows. You wish you could run your fingers over his face, ease the tension in his body. 

You’ve never cursed your alarm more than you do at that moment. 

***

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. The bakery seemed extra busy that week, and you had barely gotten time to take a break and check on Howzer. You know he’s fine, you know he’s capable of entertaining himself and keeping himself busy. You can’t help but worry about him, though. 

You get off late every day, dragging your feet up the steps, dreading another early morning. You love the bakery, and you wouldn’t change anything, but sometimes the exhaustion really begins to hit you. 

Howzer always looks concerned, usually starting to piece together something for dinner as you drag yourself in the door. He’s no professional chef, considering he lived off rations most of his life, but he does alright. He doesn’t seem to mind doing it, and you’re more than willing to let him help out a bit. Especially if it means you don’t have to stand in a kitchen more than you already do. 

Over the weekend you planned on testing new flavors for the bakery. It was getting about time to start revamping the menu again, and you had a few things you wanted to test. You’d usually force it on Mina and her soulmate to try, but you have Howzer now. He’d never really had anything sweet before he met you, and you had rectified that very quickly. 

You rise early as usual, taking care not to be too loud as you set to start making some cakes and pastries. You hum quietly to yourself as you begin mixing, measuring out ingredients and getting the pans ready. 

Howzer rises not long after, equally an early riser, though you were usually up before him. He watches you for a while, eyes following you around the kitchen. 

He doesn’t move until you’re starting on the second batch, joining you in the kitchen. He moves hesitantly, despite his posture always speaking to his training, his status. He took up a lot of space in any room, even if he was trying to make himself seem smaller. 

“Can you teach me?” He asks, stepping up next to you. 

You look up at him in surprise. “You want to learn how to make cakes?” 

He shrugs. “Yeah.” 

You stare down at the mixer before shrugging. “Sure, why not.”

You grab an apron for him, helping him tie it before you start explaining things. Ingredients, measurements, how much to add to the pans, how long to bake them for. You teach him how to make frosting too, how perfect everything has to be, how to know when it’s mixed just enough. 

He starts to talk too as you guide him, telling you about everything. From the time you last spoke right before he defied Imperial orders to when he was rescued. He tells you what happened to him, and the little he knew about what happened to the others. 

Your heart aches for him as he spills everything, everything that haunts him in his nightmares. You can understand why they’re so bad, why they plague him so much. 

You wrap your arms around him as you wait for the cakes to cool, pulling him against your chest. You hadn’t shared much contact at all since he moved into your apartment. You’d been separated by hesitation and your own busy schedule. You know he’s here, you know he’s real, but it feels good to hold him. You want to hold him and never let go. You want to be with him every minute of every day. You want to protect him and ease his nightmares away. 

“Sleep with me.” You say, voice slightly muffled by his chest. 

“What?” He chuckles nervously, trying to pull away but you tighten your hold around him. 

“Sleep in my bed with me. At night.” You say, trying to calm the nervous pounding of your heart. It matches his pounding against your ear. “Maybe...maybe it will help with the nightmares.” 

“I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” He says. 

“I said I was a light sleeper. As soon as you start to have a nightmare, I can slip into the dream space and pull you out.” You say. “It’s worth a try.” 

He sighs, wrapping his arms tightly around you once more. “I guess.” 

You smile. “I’ve never had a man sound so disappointed to sleep in the same bed as me before.” 

He pulls away, staring down at you with a dark look on his face. 

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Don’t worry. You’ll be the first to actually do it.” You shake your head. “Plenty have offered, but you know how busy I am and besides, I’ve been waiting on the right person.” 

He shakes his head, a smile forming on his face. “You think you’re so funny.” 

You grin, flicking frosting onto his nose. “I’m hilarious.” 

He looks offended before a wicked grin forms on his face, his arms scooping you up before you can even turn and run. You squeal, wiggling in his grasp. He loses his hold on you, both of you falling onto the floor in your small kitchen. He softens the drop with his arms, one hand cradling the back of your head as you hit the floor, and he falls on top of you. He’s a solid weight over you, your faces inches apart. 

You stare up into his eyes, your arms snaking around his neck. He drops just slightly closer, your breaths mingling. You lift your head just slightly before darting your tongue out to lick the frosting off his nose. 

His nose scrunches before he laughs, shaking his head. “You could just kiss me like a normal person.” 

“Who said I was normal?” You grin before you’re pulling him down, your lips meeting his. 

***

Howzer moved into your bed that night. He was still plagued by nightmares for the first few nights, but there was no incident, nothing like the first night he’d had a nightmare in your apartment. You had eased him into the dream space every time, talking him down before you inevitably woke thanks to your early alarm. 

He rises with you the first few times, until he eventually settles enough to give you a sleepy kiss before rolling over and going back to sleep. 

He also likes to cuddle. It had been a bit awkward at first, until you’d woken with his arms around you. You hadn’t said anything, and it easily became something natural. You gravitate towards each other as you were naturally made to do. 

You wake early one weekend, as you were wont to do. Not as early as you had to for work, but still too early for the weekend. Howzer agrees, his arms wrapped tight around you from behind. You can feel him, every part of him pressed up against your back. He’s shirtless, only his thin sleep pants and your own shorts separating you. His arms around your waist have pushed your shirt up, his skin touching yours. 

You can feel the energy between you, the tingling from where you’re connected. It’s a warm feeling, a comforting feeling. You feel safe, like nothing else in the world could hurt you, could come between you, so long as you’re touching. 

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, lips brushing your neck. 

You bite your lip at the sensation, goosebumps forming on your skin. He nuzzles his face closer, a warm puff of air ghosting over your skin as he exhales. You bite your lip, dropping your hands to his arms, trailing your fingers along his skin. He shifts against you, pressing even closer behind you. 

“I can’t.” You say, pushing back against him. 

He hums, one hand pushing higher beneath your sleep shirt, palm and fingers splaying across your stomach. You gasp at the sensation, shifting against him once more. You haven’t done more than kissing and some exploring, and plenty of cuddling. You can’t deny the heat pooling between your legs as he grinds against you, his half-hard length pressing against your ass. 

“Howzer?” You ask quietly, turning just slightly so you can see him. He lifts his head so he can stare down at you. “I’d like you to fuck me now.” 

His hand slips from beneath your shirt to cup your face. “You sure, mesh’la?” 

You take the hand on your face, boldly slipping it under your shorts so it’s resting against your damp panties. “I’m ready.” 

The corner of his lips lift in a grin. “That’s pretty good evidence.” He pushes against your underwear, applying pressure to your clit. 

You gasp, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “I’m ready. I want to do it.” 

He leans down, kissing you softly. “As long as you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.” You say, kissing him hard. 

His tongue slips into your mouth, the hand between your legs beginning to circle your clit over your panties. You cling to him, allowing him to work your body up. You could get lost in him so easily, in his tender touches, his strong demeanor.

He’s utterly perfect. 

You moan against his lips as he continues to tease you through your panties, your own hand trailing down his chest. You trace the lines of his muscles, slowly working your way down his stomach. His hips press closer to your hand, a groan rumbling through his chest. 

You nip at his bottom lip as he pulls back, moving his body so he’s hovering over you. His hand pulls free of your shorts, fingers looping under the waistband before tugging them down your legs. You pull your shirt over your head, leaving yourself bare before him. You fight the urge to hide under his gaze, the urge to cover yourself as he studies you. 

He leans his body over yours, pressing a kiss to your lips. “So kriffing beautiful.” He murmurs, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. 

“Howzer,” You gasp as he nips at the sensitive skin, your arms wrapping around his strong back. 

You can feel the pulsing beneath your skin, the electricity starting to ignite your nerve endings as you get closer and closer to him. He’s so big and warm over you, the pulsing feeling shooting down between your thighs. 

You need him. 

Your fingers trail down his back before they slip under the waistband of his sleep pants. You begin to tug them down and he pulls away just enough to help you, kicking them off the end of the bed. He’s thick and hard, the tip of his cock leaking. You bite your lip as you stare at him, thighs clenching in anticipation. 

“Kriff, I need you so bad.” He groans, burying his face in your chest. He licks and nips at your skin, leaving marks in his wake. It’s so possessive, the way he leaves his mark on you, the way his hands grip your sides, your hips. 

“Take me.” You say, letting your thighs fall open for him. “I’m yours.” 

He stares down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “All mine.” 

“Only yours.” You gasp as his fingers trail along your slick folds, gathering the wetness there to wet his cock. 

He slips his cock along your folds, teasing you before he lines himself up. You watch him as he eases the head of his cock inside, your body stiffening a bit at the stretch. His hands grip your hips, gently massaging the skin in an attempt to ease the stretch and help you relax.

“So kriffing tight.” He breathes as he slips further in, moving slowly to give you time to adjust. 

He folds his body over yours as he sinks completely inside you, lips tracing a path from your chest to your jaw. He’s so big, stretching you so much. You wrap yourself around him, holding onto him as your body adjusts to his cock. 

“So good for me.” He whispers in your ear, shifting his hips just slightly. “So perfect.” 

You moan as his cock moves inside you, your legs tightening around his waist. 

“You like that?” He groans, pulling out just a little before sinking back into you. “Feel good?” 

“So good.” You gasp, hips lifting to meet his slow thrusts. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs, pulling out further, before sinking back in. 

You cling to him as he fucks you deep and slow, his arms wrapped around you just as tightly. You can feel him, every part of him as he makes love to you, your very souls connecting. It’s almost overwhelming, being so connected, being so full of him. 

“Howzer!” You gasp his name as you cum, shaking under him. 

He groans into your neck, hips jerking as he spills into you. 

Neither of you move, still wrapped around each other, still completely connected. You’re practically vibrating with energy as the feeling of him fills you and overwhelms your body. The warm puffs of his breath on your sweat-slicked skin, the beat of his heart echoing in your chest keeps you grounded, keeps you here with him. 

“I love you,” He whispers, lips brushing your skin. 

“I love you too.” You whisper in his ear, tightening your hold around him. 

(I'm going to try putting the taglist in a reblog. See if that works.)

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #captain howzer x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #soulmate au

[kaladinkholins]

I was wondering, what do u think Taigen reaction to finding out about Mizu being a woman will be? Although I don’t think he will have a bad reaction I wanted to know what u thought about it?

OOH I like this question because the thoughts on this have been swirling around in my brain for a while and I don't think I ever properly talked about this, outside of maybe this post (which is barely coherent imo). There, I compared Mizu/Taigen to Mizu/Mikio, as well as to the main romantic couple in the movie Yentl. Then from both those comparisons, I tried to speculate on Taigen's reaction to Mizu's gender reveal, based on what would make the most narrative sense.

However, I didn't really analyse Taigen himself in that post, and neither did I ever come up with a concrete conclusion to what his reaction may be. So this ask gives me a good chance to speculate even further and hopefully come up with a proper and more in-depth answer.

Similar to you, anon, I don't think Taigen will have a bad reaction per se, though I guess it depends on what you'd define by bad.

Because this is Taigen we're talking about, I don't think he'd exactly be chill about it. He's very much a drama queen, especially around Mizu, as he's never afraid of stepping on her toes, and thus will vocalise his feelings to her whenever he's feeling them. That, combined with his short temper and his brashness, means that there's almost certainly going to be conflict when he finds out the truth. He will be shocked, and because he's immature, he'll be angry and upset because of this shock. Simply because he doesn't know, and hasn't yet learned, how to deal with his emotions in any other way besides getting angry.

So I think that will definitely be his first instinct. To get upset.

I don't think he'd immediately know why he's upset. Maybe only after a few minutes of angry questioning (think something along the lines of "Why are you telling me this now?!" and "You've been hiding this all this time?!"), he'd finally come up with some tangible cause for his anger.

What would the cause for his anger be then? Well, it could be several things.

Possible Reason #1

He feels "betrayed" because Mizu didn't trust him enough with the truth even after the two have grown close, and after Taigen has put his life on the line for her numerous times.

Possible Reason #2

He feels "cheated" because Mizu is not the man he'd believed she was, thus making it feel like their entire friendship was a sham. This is because the basis for their relationship, in the way he'd related to her, bullied her, envied her, admired her, allied himself with her, and eventually grown attracted to her, had been entirely based off the premise and belief that Mizu is his fellow man, his peer, comrade, and fellow samurai. Thus, discovering that Mizu is not a man would, initially, feel like all of that has been ripped away from him. And this is actually related to the third possible reason.

Possible Reason #3

This is a big one, and the reason everyone, including myself, is putting their bets on: misogyny.

Essentially, Taigen would find out that this whole time, the person he'd been envious of and struggling to beat in every single fight, is not a man, but a woman. And as far as he knows, even if women in feudal Japan could once be warriors (see: the Onna-musha), perceptions have since changed by the time of the Edo period. Furthermore, even if women could fight, men were still expected to be stronger, because men are supposed to protect women.

However, I believe that Taigen's particular flavour of misogyny is a little different, in that he does not view women as "inferior." Because remember, his fiancee was Akemi. This was a woman who took no shits! She was snarky and playful and intelligent, and moreover she was a princess, superior to him in every way, and he knew and respected all of that, and respected her as an individual who could make her own choices. When she'd told him the news of their engagement, Taigen asked her, "He's [your father] sure? You're sure?" And then, when she tried to seduce him in Ep 2, he asked her, "Akemi, are you sure?"

His respect for her is the only reason why Akemi had been so desperate to marry him in the first place. She did not love him, but knew he would be good to her. Because she could not guarantee that any other man would treat her nicely as he would.

Thus, with that being said, I don't think Taigen is some "alpha male dudebro" who thinks women belong in the kitchen etc. Instead, I think Taigen simply believes women are just... different from men. So it's not that women can't or shouldn't fight, it's that they just don't. It's not that women can't or shouldn't be friends with men on equal footing, it's just that they aren't. You get what I'm saying?

It's like, imagine your whole life, you're told, and fully led to believe, that a lamp can't light up. They're just meant to be in your house as decoration. And then suddenly, you find out that your lamp lights up! And you're like, "OMG a lamp is lighting up! How is it doing that?! I thought light only comes from candles and the sun! This can't be right, I thought lamps never light up! Isn't that a fundamental part of their design?"

Now, put aside that this is a pretty bad analogy because it's 1am as I'm writing this and I can't think of a better one atm, but I hope the point comes across, in that this is clear-cut misogyny (I'm comparing women to a piece of furniture here on purpose), but the lucky thing about this particular flavour of misogyny is that it's rooted in ignorance, and is not inherently malicious. It can be, but it isn't necessarily.

Ignorance can be undone through learning and educating oneself. And luckily for us, my friends, educating oneself out of ignorance is the entire point of Taigen's character! He represents the uneducated masses who blindly follow the flow of the fucked up system. This is in contrast to Mizu who has never had a place within the system to begin with, Akemi who has spent her whole life struggling to go against the grain of the system, and Ringo who has always tried to follow the system, but due to his disability, is denied full access to it.

Thus, we've already seen him take the first steps to unlearn his xenophobic and racial prejudice, and we've also seen him start shedding his massive ego and desire for glory, which are both used to mask his own insecurities. If Netflix gives us all 4 planned seasons, then we have 3 more seasons for Taigen to fully grow out these backwards mindsets and finally reach his full potential to become—not a good man—but a great one.

THEREFORE, whatever the reason for his upset at discovering Mizu's gender, I firmly believe that Taigen will get over himself in the end, regardless of whether his anger stemmed from his misogyny, hurt, confusion, or whatever else.

Because Taigen's short temper and emotional immaturity is born from him spending his whole life on the move. Unlike Mizu, who is always alone with her thoughts and meditates constantly to try to cleanse herself of her restless emotions, Taigen is used to surrounding himself with people (see:him in the Shindo Dojo) and ignoring his emotions completely (see:him trying to forget Kohama). Which is why, when he does feel anything, it's overwhelming, and he doesn't know what else to do with it except let it out, usually in an angry outburst. Only when given the proper chance to reflect in Kohama in Ep7, does Taigen finally go through some substantial growth and start feeling remorse over how he'd treated Mizu.

Hence, I suspect something similar will happen when he discovers Mizu's gender, in which he will get upset and shocked and confused first, but then he'll reflect and regret and try to make up for his past behaviour.

And this is what I meant earlier when I said that I don't think he'll 't have a "bad reaction."

Essentially, it is my belief that his reaction will not follow in the footsteps of Mikio's, but instead, directly oppose and subvert that. This is related to the points I referenced in the post I linked above, but also, more importantly, because Taigen and Mikio are narrative foils.

Thus, where Mikio had betrayed Mizu and left her for dead, I believe Taigen will, at the end of the day, remain loyal and continue to fight by her side until the very end.

Because the thing about Taigen, as a person, outside of all the attitudes and prejudices that have been ingrained into him, is his relentless devotion. He gives himself into everything he does, puts in his all, and does not do things halfway. That's what makes him such a good soldier. He does not lead, but follows. He is inherently self-sacrificing and driven by a desire to protect, and we see this in how protective he is of Mizu to the point of enduring torture for her and telling her to use him as a human shield; how his first instinct upon hearing Akemi had been dragged off to get married against her will, is to get up and try to go to her; and how, when hearing the shogunate is in danger, he immediately goes straight to Edo palace to try to warn the shogun, even if it might get him killed in the process.

I could go on about why I think this is what makes him so good for Mizu (because Mizu's arc, especially in Season 1, is literally about accepting help and opening herself up to others) but this post is already atrociously long, so I'll just leave it at that.

So, anon, I hope I answered your question! I'm sorry I can never give short answers though, but I think at this point, it's to be expected from me lol. Thank you for the ask btw! And on that note, my inbox is always open for more 👀

#blue eye samurai meta #taigen blue eye samurai #taigen x mizu #mizu x taigen #taimizu #letters.doc #meta dissertations.pdf #<- i have a new tagging system for my fandom posts! the rest are listed in my pinned <3 #anon #blue eye samurai #fandom.rtf

[suckmybigtoeoikawa]

The Way That Lovers Do.

(i’m on my period and feeling a bit sad, but i was on tik tok and saw this lovely video of this couple and they looked so in love while sitting at this table ^. it inspired me to get out of my writing slump) sorry if the story is a bit unorganized, i was struggling on what to write.

it was your second date with him. he was a very sweet guy. usually, people say that opposites attract and they do, but really we look for the similarities.

when you two talk to each other it was like gazing into a whole different world. for example, his career was totally different from yours, and the stories that he would tell you about his job would be shocking enough to make your jaw drop. he was so eager to talk while you were intent with listening. you had no problem with this, he even made to effort to listen to you (which is different from your ex’s).

he was a little shy and so we’re you, being that it was your second date with him, it’s expected to feel this way. yet, his nervousness only propelled him to go on nervous rambles and very detailed stories. and like mentioned before, you throughly enjoyed them.

6:45 pm

he pulls up to your house, you swear that time was moving quicker than it usually did. so when you hear the door bell ring, you’re rushing to fit things in your tiny bag, making sure you’ve got everything you needed. ‘gum, phone, lip gloss, perfume, keys, wallet,’ you quickly check off while rushing down the stairs. the sun was setting, leaving a nice warm glow around him when you opened your front door.

“hi.. hello” he repeats nervously as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

“hello” you smile back at him. he stares at you almost as if he’s in a daze, and you stare back reciprocating the same look. he looks very very good. his style is a tad bit different from yours, color wise. you guys both made the effort to dress up on your second date. A complete contrast from your first date where you guys were dressed down (because y’all painted in the park 🤭) .

“uh, you look very very beautiful,” he says as he reaches out for your hand. “thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself,” you smile again, looking him up and down, while giving him your hand. he smiles really hard and mumbles a thank you, while he closes your door.

when you guys reach the car, he opens the door for you like a princess, waving his hand in front in a way how chauffeurs (idek bro😭) do in fairytales. when you get inside you see him quickly walk to the drivers side and you try to reach over the console to open his door as well.

7:20 pm

upon arriving to the restaurant, you both walk in hand in hand. the smell of fresh bread and soft jazz giving you a warm welcome, the lights dimly lit and the evening sun helping light up the restaurant.

“this place is nice,” you say to him. “i’m glad you like it, i took some of my coworkers here a little while ago, it was nice and the food was good,” he replies. “they serve french cuisine here, so i figure that it would be romantic”. you smile at him and you can tell he starts to get nervous. “cause you know, like, France, heh.. Eiffel tower—,” you start to rub your thumb over his hand to calm him a little “i understand,” you laugh.

“so what did you try the last time you were here,” you ask, as you guys get settled in your seats.

“we’ll, this place is very well known for their soufflés, so last time i got the salmon and asparagus soufflé i believe.”

“hmm, i might try that”

9:05 pm

the night is going beautifully. after you both ate you decided to talk for a while. while you tell him about your drama at work, or the latest trend you saw on tick tok, he would be heavily engaged. he would keep deep eye contact with you and would have a through response and/or interesting opinions. Not only that but he was a good listener.

when you first met him, you were a bit thrown off by him. considering that you didn’t know him well enough, it was so easy to come up with assumption about him based on how he looked and what people around him said about him. but after your first date with him, you found yourself a lot more eager to learn about him, and so was he about you.

so when he starts to share his stories about his day, and he shows how he was listening to you by relating his stories to yours, or even brining up similar topics, you find yourself smiling at him (the wine isn’t helping either).

so as the night grew longer, and the conversations became deeper. you found that you guys are much alike. and although you guys are different in many ways, the main thing you have in common is you hope you guys can love each other the way that lovers do.

—

Kageyama, suga, asahi, kita (but i feel like he’s a bit more direct), goshiki, Aone, sakusa (i feel he’s a bit more direct too), Aaron T, Aaron Z, (maybe) Robaire, Iida, miguel o’hara (he wouldn’t be stuttering, but he’d be shy, i feel like he’s lowkey corny.. jus a lil bit) peter b. parker, miles (BUT LIKE OF AGE/ NO ALCOHOL!!)

#suckmybigtoeoikawa #headcannons #astv x reader #haikyuu x reader #my hero academia x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #miles morales x reader #kageyama x reader #sugawara x reader #suga x reader #aone x reader #goshiki x reader #tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #kita x reader #robaire x reader #aaron t x reader #aaron z x reader #4town robaire x reader #4town aaron z x reader #4town aaron t x reader #sakusa x reader #asahi x reader #4town x reader

[dresshistorynerd]

I think we can all agree that this is dumb, right? Though the title is highly misleading and the quote marks around "ban" do a lot of work here. These companies just no longer requires actresses to wear structural garments. Still a dumb and bad solution to the problem of badly made costumes.

Couple of my issues with the article:

The purpose of the corset or any other similar structural garment wasn't to reduce waist, but to provide support and shape the silhouette. In the article someone from Netflix commented that they shouldn't promote that women should make their waists smaller, apparently it's "bad optics". And from Neflix the main series where corsets are no longer required is Bridgerton, because one of the main actors had bad time with her stays. But if you take just one quick look at the Regency silhouette you will see the waist is far from reduced. Literally there is no waist. Completely covered. They have been doing something terribly wrong if they have made Regency stays that pinch down the waist. Some actors also seem to think the waist is supposed to be reduced all the time. I remember that one actor in HBO's The Gilded Age complained about the corset, but then in the same breath admitted that she had asked the costumers to make it purposefully a little too small so she could be tight-laced all the time (a practice some fashionable rich Victorian women did for high society events, and definitely not all the time). But beyond the inaccuracies in the article, there is an issue here. Structural garments supported the bust yes, but also in many periods they supported the weight of the dress. In 17th and 18th centuries and Victorian Era the skirts of rich women especially had a lot of heavy fabric which would be hard to deal with and move around with, if all the weight is only on the waist. But with a structural garment it distributes the weight to the whole torso, especially on the hips.

A structural garment needs to be fitted well and worn with with a shift underneath. It absolutely can be uncomfortable, create bruising and restrict breathing, if it's not well fitted. If you have ever used too small jeans that contain no spandex at all, you know how nasty the effects can be on the skin. Especially TV sets often have very little time for creating costumes and they might have just one fitting or at tops two or in worst case scenario none at all, which very easily leads to ill fitting costumes. That is a huge issue with structural garments. I've been making transitional short stays for myself and I have never made a garment like that so I'm still struggling fit it well (it's unfinished), and I can say it's not comfortable when it doesn't fit well. I haven't watched Bridgerton but I have seen couple of screencaps of different scenes with characters wearing stays and no shift to be seen anywhere. I really do hope they actually are wearing shifts when they have the full outfits on and just didn't wear them in these scenes for aesthetics or something. Because, yes, that will absolutely give you bruising, if you wear any type of fitted and structured garment against your skin without any fabric between it and the skin, against which the structural garment can slide against. It would be irresponsible to put your actors in such garments without shifts. I don't blame the actors for complaining about the "corsets", since I can believe they are uncomfortable if they are not well fitted or god forbid if they aren't wearing shifts.

I don't know how many times this needs to be said: corsets are not torture devices. While I don't blame the actors for complaining, reading comments like this kills one brain cell every time: "Women existed in that for such a long time, which does give you a lot of sympathy for that time period and what they were going through. For the first month, I couldn’t breathe." I'm sorry, but women literally did physical labour in corsets. They climbed mountains in corsets. (I have a whole post related to this.) Do these people really think so little of women in the past that, if corsets really were torture devices, they would have just endured them quietly for centuries? Of course the most fashionable clothing in a lot of the periods were uncomfortable and hard to move in, even restrictive, but those were the court gowns and ball gowns the young fashionable elite wore for the special evening occasions to show off to the high society. But does that really differ from today? If you look at the MET galas and stuff, do these actors really claim the outfits are comfortable? The everyday clothing and the clothing of the working class was fairly comfortable, and yes, they all wore corsets.

Yes, you can make properly fitted, comfortable supportive garments for costumes in any production. The proof is in opera. Opera singers wear corsets in a lot of productions. I have read many accounts by opera singers who talk about how their corsets are well fitted and actually makes singing easier, because you can "lean" on the corset (I don't know anything about singing, but that's what I have seen them say). Also they tend to wear those large and heavy period dresses and as alluded earlier moving on them on stage without corset would be very hard. Singing also would be harder as the singers could easily become breathless from moving the heavy dress without using the muscles on the whole body. Operas have much smaller budget than these big tv and movie productions, so there's really zero excuses for making badly fitting corsets.

So yes, it's dumb, it's inaccurate and kinda infuriating. But it's also actually pretty sinister. The issue isn't actors wearing corsets for many hours, that's what people have done for ages and still do in re-enactments, opera etc. The issue is that there's too little time for fitting and sewing the corsets in modern tv and movie production. And this is part of a much broader issue. Costume designers and makes are unionized in Hollywood and for a while now Hollywood studios have tried to cut the amount of unionized behind the scenes labour they employ.

Making profit from a movie or a tv show is not good enough anymore. Now productions that don't "perform as expected" are seen as flops. The production companies make predictions of profit and green light projects they have calculated to make most profit, and if they don't make that high profit, it's a flop and it won't get the planned sequel or the next season. To achieve those high profits they also do everything they can to lower the production costs, and one way is by employing as little unionized labour, to whom you have to pay fair wages, as possible. So costume departments are then very often understaffed and they have way too little time to produce the costumes in proper quality. This can be seen very blatantly in the clear drop in quality of movie costuming during the past couple of decades. So the reducing of structural garments in costumes seems like yet another attempt to reduce unionized labour disguised as feminism.

Obviously the good and smart solution to the problem of uncomfortable structural garments is to hire enough costumers for long enough time so they can have multiple fittings and make them better.

#dress history #fashion history #historical costuming #costuming #corset #historical undergarments #historical structural garments