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#wanted to do a set about The Jacket™
patdkoala · 1 year
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I Think We're Alone Now
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Warnings: Takes place in the show after the last episode. SPOILERS FOR TLOU SHOW, Smut, use of nickname (Baby), pullout method™, cumming on chest, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), edging, Joel Miller being a slut (yes that is a warning)
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Joel has always been there for me and Ellie ever since we all met. I became really close with Ellie in a sort of motherly older sister way.
I look out for her when it comes to womanly things and I have let her know many times that I am always there for her to talk to about anything she doesn't feel comfortable talking to Joel about.
"So, are you and Joel fucking?" Ellie asked as she ate the soup that Maria had made her. Joel choked on his soup, Tommy just looked at me, and I smacked Ellie in the arm.
"I regret teaching you what that word actually meant," I muttered under my breath. Joel just glared at me from across the table.
"So? Are you?" She asked again as I looked over at her and I took another bite of my soup. "Well, uhm. Ells, I don't think that's any of your business. I also think you are way too young to be asking me and Joel this type of question," I said as Ellie shrugged.
We all just sat there and finished eating out soup. Joel kept looking up at me every few seconds. I ignored his glances.
"We should get going. I'll leave the rest of the soup in a Tupperware for you guys," Maria said as she and Tommy put on their coats and started walking toward the door.
"Can I join you guys?" Ellie asked as I looked over at Joel who was already holding her jacket and backpack.
"Oh! Sure! I'll get the guest room all nice for you, sweetheart," Maria said as Tommy took the backpack from Joel. Joel then helped Ellie put on her sweater.
"You call us if anything goes wrong. Also, call us if you just want to talk to us," Joel said as he gave a quick kiss on the top of Ellie's head just as she walked out the door. "I know I know. I'll be safe and I'll call if anything goes wrong. Love you guys bye," Ellie said as she waved at me and then saluted to Joel.
After Joel shut the door, I walked back into the kitchen of our beautiful home.
Maria, who is now heavily pregnant with Tommy Miller's baby, finished setting up a house for Joel, Ellie, and me to live in once we came back from getting Ellie back from the fireflies.
Sure, Joel and I lied to Ells about what really happened but that was just to protect her from the real dangers of what could have happened. They were going to kill her if Joel and I hadn't killed every son of a bitch that laid a hand on her.
After we saved her, Joel and I took her back to the town where Maria and Tommy seem to run.
I told Joel that it would be good for him to be around family whether they get along or not. And that it would be good for Ellie to be in a town where she can act like a normal teenager.
Of course, we didn't tell anyone that Ellie is immune but we did tell them that we need to be bunked together. Like a family because that is what we have made ourselves into.
Joel and I hadn't really had time together alone since moving in.
"You know, this was Ellie's idea right?" Joel said as I cleaned up the bowls and I took out ingredients to make some cookies.
"What was?" I asked as Joel got closer to me.
"She said that you and I needed a date night so she asked me and Tommy earlier today if after dinner she could go home with him," He said as I smiled.
"So, the little girl that just asked if you and I were fucking, she set you and me up on a date?" I asked as I poured some of the ingredients into a bowl.
"Yeah she- what are you doing?"
"Making cookies. What does it look like I'm doing?"
"I just didn't know you knew how to bake. You seemed much more dangerous than that."
"Dangerous women can bake," I said as he stuck his finger in the bowl and licked some of the cookie dough off of his finger.
"You know I don't like it when you do that," I said as he smirked at me. "You've never complained about me putting my finger in things before," He said as I rolled my eyes at him.
"No, but I do always tell you it's better when you use two fingers," I said as Joel picked me up and moved the cookie mix onto the floor in one swift motion.
I was now seated on the counter and Joel was standing between my legs. We kissed roughly I then pulled him closer to me by wrapping my legs around his waist.
My hands moved through his greying hair and I tugged at the root as he moaned into my mouth with the sudden tug.
"Tell me what you want, baby," Joel said as I moaned out into his neck as he held the back of my head.
"You, I want you, Joel. Please," I said as he smiled and looked at me. "What about my cookies?" He asked as I smiled back at him.
"Later, baby. I need you right now," I said as he nodded and then held onto my legs that were still wrapped around him. I held onto him by also holding onto his neck.
He walked us into our fresh new bedroom that had clean sheets on the bed and it also didn't smell like a dead person or an infected because we were finally safe.
"What are you laughing at?" Joel asked as he took my shoes off me. I hadn't even realized I had been giggling.
"We are okay. And we are about to have sex in a clean bed," I said as Joel smiled right before taking off his many layers of clothes and then he got on the bed over me.
He slowly unbuttoned my jeans since I was still mostly clothed. He then unbuttoned his jeans and then he started to kiss up and down my body again.
When he was closer to the bottom half of my body I would grab hold of his hair and tug lightly which would, of course, cause a moan to escape his lips.
"Is this where you want me, baby?" He asked as I didn't make a sound I just nodded and then tugged his head towards exactly where I wanted him.
He moved my underwear down my legs and then before I knew it, his mouth was on me and I was moaning like a mad woman.
He stopped right before I came into his mouth which of course pissed me off.
"Hey, don't edge me you sick son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry baby but I need to feel your body pulse around me," He said as he got back on top of me and he removed his cock from his jeans, and pushed it inside of me.
I moaned so loud that I got worried Ellie might be able to hear me from next door.
"It's ok, you can be as loud as you want Ellie is at Tommy's remember?" He said as I nodded and then he continued to move in and out of me with such intense motions.
I screamed out as I came with him still inside of me and he then pulled out and came on my chest.
"Remind me to get Ellie her own place for her birthday," I said as Joel smiled at me and rolled over. "Now why would we go and do a thing like that?"
"Because then maybe we can keep doing whatever the fuck that was," I said as he just nodded and smiled his perfect Joel Miller smile.
"According to Ellie, we were fucking," He said as I hit him in the face with a pillow.
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honeesucker · 11 months
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Haunted by a Shadow
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Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader x Dabi
Word Count: 12,976
Content Warnings: Dead Dove (do not eat)! Kidnapping, Non-Con, Dabi burns reader, Unhinged Brother™ Touya, sexual torture, vaginal and anal penetration / double-penetration (body & objects), drug use (on reader), mentions of blood, use of phone for sexual photos/video, (to be safe) mentions of incest (Dabi calls you ‘basically family’, refers to himself as ‘brother’ and you as ‘little sister’), reader peeing on themself, reader has to ingest a non-edible item, no happy ending.
*Not proofread.
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Shoto couldn’t stop glancing over at you as the snowflakes danced down from the darkening sky and landed on your hair, your jacket, your face. He wanted to kiss away the little cold specks but knew better than to be so bold, so quickly. His whole body buzzed with new feelings, never having really thought about romantic connections beyond what he’s observed in others, it was just never something he considered for himself even after graduating from UA where more and more of his friends began to seek out partners. 
You, however, caught his attention by literally running into him at Endeavor’s agency. It happened just outside of the cafeteria where a gorgeous courtyard was centered, flowers, trees and shrubbery hiding various benches and picnic tables for staff to take a break from the office out in a natural space away from the harsh lighting and non-stop buzz of agency work. You had been wearing a comfortably loose silken black dress that was cinched in at the waist, and for a moment you glanced down at your phone the exact second Shoto had turned the corner around a column in the courtyard causing you to drop your phone, spill hot coffee between the both of you, and trip in the excitement landing atop the Pro Hero heir. Your eyes had widened as large as the moon, bright and shiny, panicked, Shoto had noted; but he fell for you all the same in that instant, assured you that it was only an accident and that he insisted on taking you out shopping to replace the dress.
That was three weeks ago, and now you were walking home with him to meet his siblings and have dinner. The sun had almost fully set behind the horizon and the gentle fall of snow was all that surrounded you and you walked nearly hand-in-hand with Shoto, your fingers grazing each other little by little as your hands swung closely. He was soon ripped from his thoughts by your hand, warm and soft, clasping his. His cheeks instantly heated up, tips of his ears burning hot beneath his knitted cap as he turned away from you quickly, coughing into his other hand as you swung your hands between the both of you.
“This is so nice, Sho!” You mused aloud, watching with twinkling eyes the snow falling around the neighborhood, the light from the moon and the streetlamps shimmering back as you glanced at him with a huge smile on your face.
Shoto hadn’t explicitly asked you to be his girlfriend yet, though any who watched you two over the past few weeks would definitely say you were already together in all ways but the label. Shoto had a plan to ask you tonight but the way his body buzzed and bounced with anxiety he wasn’t sure he’d have the courage just yet, but he resolved to do his best to end this night with you officially together. He couldn’t wait - he had asked Fuyumi to make whatever she deemed best for dinner though he did mention you didn’t particularly like seafood of any sort. When you both finally turned the corner, still hand-in-hand, you were taken aback by the large, traditional style house you saw.
“Wow,” you breathed out, “Shoto your house is amazing!” Shoto’s chest puffed up with pride that you were praising anything related to him. Though he’d rather not be under the same roof as his father - he was still happy to share space with his brother and sister. 
“Thank you,” Shoto finally said, leading you up the stone pathway to his front door. You both took off your shoes, coats and hats while you stepped inside the genkan. Sitting down on a bench briefly to unlace your boots, Shoto opened a small cabinet and produce a new-looking pair of grey slippers for you. You smiled as you thanked him, slipping into the house slippers and following behind him as he led you deeper into his home. Soon enough the smell of delicious food hit your nose, and you couldn’t stop your mouth from instantly salivating. Shoto and you turned a corner that led to an open room with the similarly traditional look of the rest of the house - tatami mats, and shoji doors with a sleek, slate gray interior and minimal decorating; mostly just a couple of family portraits, some flowers in a vase and some old looking traditional art pieces. In the center of the room there was a long chabudai table with cushions for seating, namely, to fit the large family he was a part of, but he had assured you it would only be you and his siblings tonight. Your anxiety had lessened knowing you wouldn’t be subject to Endeavor’s hard gaze, or even more blunt line of questioning. The table was already set with dishes, a couple bottles of sake, as well as glasses, chopsticks and spoons. Shoto had directed you to sit down and get comfortable and he would check in on his sister in the kitchen. 
“Wow,” you had whispered out in a long breath, taking in the room around you. You wondered what it was like growing up here for Shoto - though you had an idea of some of what he endured. You swallowed hard, remembering the broadcast made by the estranged Todoroki brother, the eldest - Touya. He had laid out the abuse and neglect he faced at the hands of Endeavor, and while the word of a villain couldn’t always be trusted - Shoto had given you more of a look into his life that made the knot in your throat only grow bigger. 
Your brief train of thought was interrupted soon by Shoto reentering the room with a tray of two rice bowls, placing one on each side of the table, followed by some smaller side dishes of various pickled vegetables, katsudon and various tempura vegetables. Soon Fuyumi was fussing over you, getting you a glass of water to start and helping to serve you as Shoto sat down next to you, and soon Shoto’s older brother Natsuo entered as well, following his nose to the table and awaiting food.
The introduction felt easy, eating and drinking (Natsuo opened the sake first and poured the round for everyone) became more and more comfortable as the night progressed and soon you were laughing and leaning on Shoto as he mindlessly picked up tempura vegetables and fed you between you telling stories and listening to Natsuo’s bad jokes. Shoto could see from the corner of his eyes how Fuyumi was watching the two of you, the fondest smile on her face as she gave an almost unnoticeable nod to Shoto. Shoto was on cloud nine, never imagining the night to end up this good, but then again things had always come easy between you two.
Soon enough Natsuo retreated back to his room, Fuyumi insisted the cleaning be left to her and she hurried you and Shoto out of the dining room, and Shoto grew bolder as he took you by the hand and led you outside to go for a walk. He even wrapped you up in his own coat, which you took happily, bringing it up to your face to blow warm air in, and snuggle into the familiar, clean scent you’ve come to love. After walking for a bit, you and Shoto stopped in the center of a beautiful garden lit up by twinkling fairy lights, small like little fireflies as he led you to a bench seated just beneath a Sakura tree, and nearest to an expansive koi pond whose bridge you walked over to reach where you were now seated. 
“[Name]...” Shoto’s voice suddenly breaking the silence of the moment shook you out of your thoughts as you glanced over at the man you’ve come to adore. Admiring the way his eyes seemed to always look like they were seeing into you rather than just seeing you on the outside.
“Yes, Sho?” You managed out, tongue heavy with your sudden nerves.
“I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now but,” Shoto started, almost backing out but he resigned himself to this moment, no matter how it turned out. “I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, if you want to of course - you can absolutely say n-” Shoto’s rambling was cut off by you. More accurately, your lips silence his rambling as they pressed against his. They were softer than you imagined, cold to the touch in the chilly night air but soon the warmth took over as he deepened the kiss with you. “W-was that a yes or-” You planted another quick, silencing kiss on Shoto and his sweetly oblivious nature as you laughed.
“Yes, Shoto - I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.” He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he nestled your head beneath his chin. His cheeks were heating up as a furious blush overtook his face, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming out. 
You were his. Finally!
Unfortunately for you both, an uninvited guest was overlooking the sweet moment shared between Shoto and you, and it was only going to get worse from there.
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Dabi was feeling - well, how was he feeling? This emotion in his chest wasn’t new to him but he couldn’t quite place it. He almost couldn’t remember when he last felt it until it all hit him at once as he watched Shoto kissing you.
Jealousy.
Bearing witness as Shoto stumbled over what must be his first romantic confession, sweetly asking you to be his girlfriend, and you saying yes. He didn’t know why this set off an angry black fire within his body, but it did, and it was burning its way down to his palms where sparks of blue were already starting. Dabi clenched his fists, extinguishing his quirk as quickly as it sparked up. He needed to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Burning you and Shoto up in a quick blaze just wouldn’t give him the satisfaction he was looking for, not even close - but as he waited, watched as you and Shoto shared a goodbye; watched as Shoto insisted on walking you home but you told him you’d be fine and for him to stay... Dabi could swear he was receiving divine karma for his old man’s transgressions, his mind running a mile a minute with the possibilities of what he could do surfacing to his mind as the perfect opportunity he couldn’t have ever anticipated showed up right in front of him in the form of you walking away from his childhood home alone.
Dabi couldn’t help the way his tongue darted out at the sight of you calmly walking down the sidewalk away from him - couldn’t help imagining just how perfect this night was going to be once he got his hands on you.
The walk back to your apartment took about an hour. You had considered taking the bus, but your body was full of too much adrenaline to actually calm down. Heart was fully, and fluttering with the renewed feelings for Shoto, and how sweetly the night with him went - you really couldn’t have asked for anything more.
Well, maybe a better sense of self-preservation. 
Dabi couldn’t help but feel amused at your blissful march back to your apartment with no sense of caution, no thought that anyone would be watching you, following you... but he was. He was watching you as you walked the familiar streets of downtown Musutafu. Watched as you passed dark alley after dark alley, so many easy places he could slip in to and snatch you up to drag you back to the building he was currently staying in - and then... and then? Well, his imagination was running wild at all of the possibilities. His chest was still burning with the jealousy of seeing his younger brother - the golden child of his family - being happy and getting to experience things he never had a chance to; even worse he was attempting to live normally even after his streaming confession across all of Japan? Fuck that. He wanted to ruin that for Shoto, so that meant ruining you and all that you symbolized. It wasn’t ten more minutes when you finally jogged up the steps of a nice-looking apartment building, nothing so fancy you had a doorman or real security but definitely not the slums. He watched from further back through the glass front doors as you checked your mail, grabbing a few envelopes from the slot before locking it back up and making your way toward the elevator. That’s when Dabi decided to enter your building, and watched the numbers count up and up until it landed on the twelfth floor. He walked back outside and stood across the street, watching with bated breath as he waited for one of the many dark windows to light up on the twelfth floor. He didn’t have to wait long as he saw the third from the far right light up - easy enough. 
You locked the door behind you as you entered your apartment and switched on your lights, setting your keys and purse down and taking off your coat and shoes before slipping into your own house slippers, cheeks burning up at the memory of how Shoto got your own pair at his house now, too. You walked further into your apartment, turning on your electric kettle to make some tea before bed, and leaving it to heat up as you freshened up for the night - shower, nighttime skincare, and comfy sleep clothes - a ratty old All Might tank and soft, cheeky sleep shorts. You heard the alarm beeping that alerted you to your hot water being done, and when you rounded the corner out of your room looking out into your living room and kitchen your blood ran cold as your feet froze to the floor where you stood, one hand gripping the threshold tightly.
Someone was stood in your kitchen, having just pressed the kettle power button. The steam was spilling out of the top as the hissing whistle sound died down, the person still with their back to you but you noticed they were quite tall with a black hood pulled down over their face as they looked over their shoulder at where you stood, watching, waiting.
“W-Who are you,” you questioned quietly before swallowing your nerves and straightening up, “who are you and what are you doing in my apartment? Get the fuck out no-” your voice fell away as the figure turned fully, pulling their hood down with one hand as a wide, horrific smile appeared on the familiar face.
“Awe, c’mon little sister! That isn’t a way to greet your boyfriend's older brother now, is it?” Dabi... or Touya... Dabi stood in your kitchen’s white light. Hood pulled down to reveal the dyed black hair, and terrifying glacial eyes as they took you in, up and down your body until it made you feel sick, when they traveled up to meet your gaze again, smile stretching the scarred skin wide in such an unnatural way. 
Ping!
You had promised Shoto that you would text him when you got back to your apartment safely, you had meant to do so when you sat down with your tea after you cleaned up, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen now. Your fingers itched with the urge to run for your phone - if you could get a call started to Shoto you know he would respond faster than the police could, but with Dabi watching you like a cat with a cornered mouse you weren’t so sure it was the smartest move to make currently. 
Ping!
Another text, that confirmed for you that it was Shoto checking in on you - no one else would be texting you this late. Dabi’s smile grew wide as he watched your thoughts race through your head, watched as you instinctively leaned toward the sound of your phone, watched as your fingers gripped and released the threshold still holding you up as your panicked eyes darted around your apartment.
“Now doll, I don’t have all day,” Dabi finally broke the long silence, taking a couple of steps forward that had your hand releasing the doorway and stumbling back against the wall behind you. 
“Dabi,” your voice was as threatening as you could make it - which wasn’t much in the face of a notoriously dangerous villain. “Why are you in my apartment?”
“Don’t be like that,” Dabi took two more steps toward you, “no need for formalities, you know my name, don’t you? With the way little Shoto looks at you I’d say we’re on the quick path to being in-laws hm? Call me Touya.” It was at that moment a third text came in, rattling away as your phone vibrated in your purse atop the small table in your entryway. Dabi had turned his attention away from you for a second that gave you enough bravery to bolt for your room. To find and grab anything that could be a weapon, to get your door shut and locked, to jump out your window... anything.
The second your body moved, you scrambled like a rabbit swift and strong as you tried to push your door completely shut but Dabi was right behind you, wedging his boot to stop it from closing completely. When that failed you scrambled to your dresser where various objects were, but none seemed sturdy enough to take him out. It was in one of the moments your hands were scrambling for anything to turn around and hit him across the head with, that he grabbed you, pulling your arms behind your back and slamming you forward onto your bed. You struggled against his grip as he pressed his front almost completely onto you, lowering his weight to pin you down further. “K-Keep struggling,” he ground out, huffing as you continued to wiggle and try to free yourself from him, “it gives me a fucking hard on feeling you struggle like this.”
Everything stopped.
Your struggling, your screaming, all fight drained out of you at that revelation. 
“Get the fuck off of me, Dabi,” you growled out, shifting your body to try and wiggle free again. “Shoto is going to come looking for me when I don’t answer his texts!” 
“Oh,” Dabi was laughing now, the deep chuckle reverberating against your back. “I’m counting on that.”
You felt a sharp prick into your neck as the world around you blurred and blackened, whatever was in that needle sending you into a syrupy sleep as if your blood and the air you were breathing in thickened to suffocate you.
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You woke up in more pain than you’ve ever experienced before in your life. Your head was pounding, your abdomen was in indescribable pain, and it hurt to move your body even an inch. Tears burned your eyes as you tried to open them, blinking away the sleep trying to get your vision to focus.
“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” a familiar voice came from the darkness, startling you until a bright, blinding light was turned on. Your eyes shut again at the bright assault. “Sorry for the inhospitality so far, I couldn’t control myself earlier and took some frustration out on you while you slept.” Dabi was looking over at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, mimicking kicks as his heavy boots scuffed the ground and thudded against the wall. You never had any broken bones before, but this surely had to be what a broken rib felt like. “Wish I had pain killers to spare but the few I get my hands on, I need for myself,” Dabi stepped closer to you bound on the floor of a simple-looking room before rearing his right foot back to bring another harsh kick to your stomach; you cried out, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as the burning spread out from the point of impact. 
“P-please,” you managed out between choked gasps of air, “please stop, Dabi.”
“Didn’t I already tell you, doll?” 
Kick. 
“We’re practically family now!” 
Kick. 
“Call me Touya.” 
Kick.
“Tou-Touya please,” you pleaded with the villain again. “Please stop. Tell me what you want, what I can do, I can help yo-” another kick hitting your shoulder this time with a sickening impact.
“What I want,” Dabi mused, his deep voice trailing off as he circled around you like a vulture to a carcass. “What I want is to hurt Endeavor, which can be achieved by hurting Shoto... which is achieved through hurting you. I want to take away everything I never got the chance to have, from him, and keep it for myself,” Dabi was kneeling now, scarred hand reaching down to push some of your hair from your bloodied face, pieces sticking to your skin from where the blood dried. “And you can help me by being a good little slut for your new brother,” Dabi lifted up your limp body from the floor to bring you over to a worn-out mattress, stained with Gods-know-what and a few rusted-looking springs poking out in places as you cried and tried to struggle, as weak as the attempt was with all of your strength zapped.
What was left of your ragged pajamas was removed from your body, skin prickling with goosebumps as the icy air in the room wafted over your exposed skin. Dabi’s hand shot back to your now-exposed chest, gripping and twisting your breasts painfully, forefinger and thumb coming up to grip your nipple and twist, pull, anything he could do to get you to scream again - and scream you did at each cruel ministration. It was when he was cupping the plush flesh of your breasts, scarred hands pushing them up from underneath that a blood-curdling scream as Dabi’s hands heated up to an ultra-hot temperature, branding your flesh with his palmprints. You felt queasy as you heard the sizzle of your skin and smelt the strangely charcoal smell as it burnt. The laughter you heard above you felt amplified as your senses went on high alert. “That was way too fun,” Dabi nearly moaned out, pressing his palms back into where he burnt you as you flinched away from the contact, slipping onto the bed as he straddled your legs, pinning you own further. He leaned in to first take your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the pert bud before biting down with considerable force, causing you to cry out once more; he mimicked his actions on your right nipple before licking and sucking up the column of your throat before he assaulted the area with deep bruised hickeys and some less-than-sexy, more like zombie, bites to the delicate skin. 
The pain was making it hard for you to focus on anything else, like the feeling of Dabi shifting above you as he undid his belt, took off his jacket, his t-shirt, removed his jeans, kicked off his shoes and finally slipped out of his boxer briefs where his long, slender cock slapping up against his abdomen as it leaked a pearly bead of pre-cum, the silken, translucent substance slipping down his cockhead as he began to touch himself. He was watching you with predatory eyes, the lazy stoking of his hand up and down his length only serving to harden him more as he ached to be inside of you, and as he lent forward, shoving your legs apart with his own, you cried out as he thrusted forward, and in one swift motion he seated himself fully within your warmth, heavy balls slapping against your ass as the tension from his unprepped entry left your cunt burning, even worse as he spit barely enough to wet his cock down upon where your bodies joined together as he drug his cock out slowly, only for him to slam his hips forward with enough force it jostled you up the bed until your head hit the metal bars of the bedframe.
Dabi began a relentless assault on your pussy as his thrusts became more violent, shaking your whole body with the force as the friction continued to burn. Your body was trying to spare you the pain as it began to lubricate itself with the stimulation, but even in conjunction with Dabi’s spit, and the blood from what definitely felt like a friction tear, it wasn’t nearly enough to save you from it all. Dabi began laughing as his entry into your core was becoming easier, his ruthless thrusts gliding in and out. “Gettin’ all excited for me, huh doll?” Dabi lifted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder and pinning the other one down nearly folding you in half as he chased his own release, hips stuttering as he moaned lowly, whispering a shaky f-fuck under his breath as he pushed his hips forward, spongy cockhead pressing against the deepest point in you with an aching pressure before you felt the hot spurting of him cumming inside of you. You cried harder, hands weakly trying to push him from you but the pain and shock you were in made it hard to really gain an advantage over the man on top of you. 
You felt sick to your stomach as you clenched your eyes shut, feeling as Dabi’s cock stayed seated within you before he began to drag it out agonizingly slow, but not before you heard the shutter sound from a camera. Your eyes shot open, wide in horror as you saw Dabi holding a phone pointed down where your bodies were connected, and the sick feeling only increased when you realized it was your phone. 
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Something was off. 
Shoto couldn’t quite settle the uneasy feeling he felt, but when you didn’t text him within an hour, he began to worry so he shot you a quick text.
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(Photo description: Fake text message screen, Y/N with a Sakura flower emoji top contact name, Shoto sent four texts which read as follow: “Hey Y/N, just making sure you made it home safely. Thank you for coming over tonight. // Y/N? Is everything okay? // Y/N please answer me, I just want to know you’re okay. // I already called your Mom. I’m coming over.”)
It only took Shoto about fifteen minutes to drive to your apartment, but to be fair he definitely didn’t go the speed limit. He had driven you home a couple of times from work and picked you up for a couple of lunch dates since you had first met so every path to your home was ingrained in him. He parked, and when he began his walk up to the lobby doors he noticed the lights in your apartment were on. Hope and dread wrestled for dominance within him as he tried to think of a reason you didn’t answer his texts. 
Did you just forget? 
Were you busy with something and he overreacted? 
Did you not enjoy tonight as much as it seemed and wanted to distance yourself?
The last one worried Shoto, but he knew how genuine you were, knew that if you didn’t enjoy yourself, it would have been written all over your face. He also knew you would have let him down gently when he asked you to be his girlfriend, sparing his feelings but being honest about yours. It wasn’t like you to lie for someone else’s benefit. Shoto couldn’t stop his body from fidgeting as he waited for the elevator to rise to your floor, pushing the button a couple more times than necessary which made him feel better. When he got to your floor and walked the short distance to your apartment door, he tried to think of something to say to you about his texts if you hadn’t seen them yet. That he was sorry for showing up and bothering you, but he had to know you were okay.
Shoto gave a couple of knocks, but on the third knock your door pushed open a few inches. That set his whole body on high alert because you never left your door unlocked, even when you were just running down the hall to give or get something from your neighbor - he made a joke about it to you once and you said you did it out of habit, afraid the one time you didn’t someone would sneak in. He couldn’t disagree with you there, having a few years under his belt as working hero and a child of Japan’s current number one left him with a clearer understanding of the world and how bad things can happen so suddenly out of nowhere.
He never joked about it with you again, just praised you for your forethought.
Shoto stepped inside to see your purse sitting on your entryway table. Your coat and hat you wore tonight were hung on hooks on the opposite wall as he called your name out into your apartment but was met with complete silence. He saw the shoes you wore tonight knocked over like you either took them off in a hurry or tripped over them on the way back out your apartment. Shoto didn’t take his off as he stepped up further into your apartment and took in the state of things. Your living room wasn’t necessarily messy, but Shoto had gotten to know your habits over the last few weeks with you, knowing that you wouldn’t leave things this way. Your electric kettle was out, a cup with a teabag untouched on the counter; Shoto walked over to press his fingertips to the kettle to notice it was barely above room temperature having sat untouched for too long now. 
“[Name]?” Shoto called out again into the silent apartment, only the echo of his voice coming back to him. Shoto walked toward your bathroom where he saw the light on and could smell the fresh scent of your shampoo that he became familiar with. A favorite scent and he loved to press his nose against the crown of your head when you hugged him, pressing a soft kiss there as he memorized the way you smelt and felt against him. Shoto shook his head, shaking the memory out with it as he pushed open the bathroom door. “[Name]? Are you in here?” Shoto couldn’t hear the water running so he didn’t want to run the risk of walking in on you in any state of undress or startle you as he pushed the door completely open. 
Things were in the bathroom left like you had just wrapped up a shower, a dampness still hung in the air but no steam remained in the air. Shoto turned and moved to your bedroom, a place he had been only once when you invited him over and you both ended up curled up together as you fell asleep watching a movie. He walked through the threshold of the open door, and the sight is what made his blood run cold. His eyes were trained to pick up on certain things, and this room was screaming signs of a struggle everywhere Shoto’s eyes landed. He saw your house slippers on opposite sides of the room, things were knocked off your dresser and vanity, a couple of noted heavier objects were thrown to the floor, presumably when you tried to use them as a weapon... or they were used against you.
Shoto swallowed the hard lump down in his throat, panic swelling in his chest as he took photos on his phone of the whole apartment as it was, he called your mom and informed her of what he believed to have happened - informed her to call the police but let them know that he would be working on this as well, and to contact his father. Shoto’s fingers swiped a quick couple of times before holding the phone to his ear.
“Shoto,” Endeavor’s deep baritone could be heard on the other end, “is everything alright?” After the recent events, and Endeavor’s new journey into being a less shitty person he was more worried when his children reached out, as they rarely did so before except for Fuyumi. 
“Dad,” Shoto was barely conscious of him using that term, but Endeavor shot up where he was seated, already hurrying out of the agency at his son’s use of the term. 
Something was wrong.
A message notification pinged on Shoto’s phone; he could hear Endeavor’s voice shouting on the other end as he pulled it away from his ear to see your name pop up on the notifications up top. He hurriedly pulled it up to see a video attachment, and wondered why you would send a video instead of replying to his texts and letting him know you were okay. He opened the attachment and wasn’t sure what he was looking at, at first, and then his breath caught in his throat, feeling like he was drained of all blood as he ran cold at what he was looking at. He could see your face, albeit bloodied and streaked with dirt and tears, you were completely naked, and he could see what looked like bruises or dirt at first, when a hand came into the view of the camera that he recognized. Long, slender fingers of pale porcelain that cut off into necrotic skin, the gleam of the staples an all too telling sight.
Dabi.
Touya-nii.
He recognized the marks on your chest as handprints now, handprints that were burned into your flesh. He watched with wide, horrified eyes as the camera panned down as the hand trailed your body, Shoto watching as you tried feebly to flinch away from the touch. Watched as the shot ended with the sight of a cock buried within you, a pinkish mixture of blood and cum staining your thighs. Shoto could hear your cries, see your body convulse with the sobbing as he heard a familiar voice cut in
“I hope you don’t mind, little brother,” Dabi’s familiar drawl came over the audio as Shoto watched on, sick to his stomach as he saw Dabi’s hips begin to push forward and pull back as his cock slid in and out of you, streaks of red and sticky, translucent slick and white mixing along the length and at the base of his cock as he did so. “I wanted to keep it all in the family, y’know? Our little sister here, she’s a little weak in my opinion, you deserve someone who matches your strength don’t you think?” A slap could be heard as your cracked voice shrilled and broke into more sobbing as Shoto heard another loud smack! and he couldn’t swallow down the bile rising in his throat. He threw his phone down and ran to the bathroom where he threw up in the toilet, his body shaking as he could hear you cry out from the video still playing before he heard a See you soon, little brother before the audio went silent. Shoto spit into the toilet before standing up again, flushing and running cold water into his mouth and splashing even more on his face. He heard the phone ringing from your bed, and was frozen until the melodic chime cut off, only to begin again. He was able to drag his feet across the hallway and looked down at the screen where he saw Endeavor’s photo and ID come on the screen. He forgot he had called his father earlier, before receiving that message, and picked up again.
“Shoto! Tell me what’s wrong,” Endeavor sounded panicked although anyone from the outside wouldn’t be able to tell. 
Shoto could. 
“Touy-” Shoto stopped himself, “Dabi.”
“Did you run into him, or the League? Tell me where you are!” Shoto could hear a car start up as he was heading in Shoto’s direction. His father had insisted on enabling location tracking for safety and for once he didn’t disagree.
“No,” Shoto managed to get out, choking on the knot of fear lodged in his throat. “I’m at [Name]’s apartment, I’ll text you the address. I have her mom calling the police as well. Dad,” he drew in a ragged breath, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself and get the visual of your battered body out of his mind. “Dabi took her, and he’s...” Shoto couldn’t hear what else Endeavor said, but it wasn’t long before the police arrived, and Endeavor shortly after. Shoto sent over the initial photos he took of the apartment, and his father and the lead detective watched the video with hard faces, the disgust and discomfort evident in their expressions. Shoto was seated on your bed after the investigators were done collecting any evidence they could find, holding a small puppy plushie he got for you from a claw machine on one of your guys’ lunch dates. Endeavor came in the room, seeing his son in such a sorry state knowing it was his own mistakes that led them to this point, but now wasn’t the time to grieve over his wrongdoings, right now his son needed his support. Endeavor placed a large hand on Shoto’s shoulder, a hopefully reassuring gesture.
“The detectives are looking into tracing her phone right now and trying to gather clues from the room the video was shot in,” Endeavor didn’t know how else to offer comfort to his son, so he only gave him the facts as they are in the moment. “They’re going to be conducting interviews in the building around the time you suspected she should’ve arrived home last night, and they want you to forward any further communication you may receive...” Endeavor’s voice trailed off, watching as Shoto flinched at the idea of receiving anything else from his villainous brother.
“Thanks, Endeavor,” Shoto managed out, and it relieved Endeavor a bit to hear him speak. He wanted to be called Dad again, but that was an issue for another time... perhaps another lifetime. 
Shoto remained sat on your bed until the detectives finished up their work, he asked if he would be able to clean up the mess for you and they agreed, the pitiful smile on one of the detectives faces eluding Shoto’s gaze as they all took their supplies with them, and after Endeavor said he would allocate some Pros, sidekicks and other resources to finding you, he left the apartment as well. Shoto began his task of cleaning for you. Fist he gathered all of the things that were out of place and put them back where they belonged, he put away your kettle and teacup, throwing away some trash and wiping down some surfaces to keep his mind off of this whole situation. He felt so helpless, so useless - feeling such foreign emotions left him confused and angry. 
Shoto’s phone pinged again, and he froze. He glanced at the screen to see your name previewed in the notification with a photo attachment. This couldn’t keep happening while he sat around and sulked, he had to do everything he could to find you.
Shoto clicked on the notification, and then pressed your contact before putting the phone to his ear. It rang one, twice, three, four times before the phone picked up. Shoto could make out someone breathing before he heard your ear-piercing scream. “Dabi,” Shoto all but growled out only to be met with an amused chuckle on the other end. “I am going to find you, and I am going to kill you. If you lay another finger on her...!” the line went dead, and two more pings were heard from the device in Shoto’s shaking hand. 
He opened the attachments to see one photo of your bruised and bloodied face, cheeks squished between Dabi’s thumb and pointer finger in a crushing grip, your eyes were teary and red. 
The second photo was a close up of the burns on your chest, soft skin and pebbled nipples in contrast to the marks that littered your skin, bite marks, but the real horror was the blackened, peeling skin blistered and bloodied in the shape of large palm prints in the way they cupped your breasts. 
The sight make Shoto’s stomach turn, swallowing down the acid and bile that rose up into his mouth before opening the third attachment and seeing a scarred hand taking up most of the shot, long fingers spreading your pussy lips to capture the perfect moment a blood-pink-tinged glob of cum was seeping out of you.
Shoto wanted to crush his phone in his hands with the fiery rage that filled his whole body, quirk heating up the left side of his body as his rage grew. He couldn’t break the device, however, because it was his only tie to you. He resolved to go back to his place, happy with how he straightened up the mess that was created - he didn’t want you to come back to any reminders of this time, though the mental scars he knew you were already developing would need support to heal. He wanted to bring you back safely, back to him. 
Shoto left your apartment, locking the door behind him with the key left on your entryway table by your purse. He resolved to give it back to you when you returned safely to him.
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You felt drained. Your body was aching everywhere, burning in the places where Dabi paid closer attention to cause extra harm; the bites, the burns, where his unprepped entry left you feeling torn in half as he rammed himself inside of you, three times now that you recalled. Before he exited the room, nearly leaving the room with you simply restrained to his bed, but stopped at the doorway and turned around, a sick, curious smile on his face as he set the phone in his hand down atop a dresser - your phone. 
Your mouth went dry wondering what he was doing with your phone.
Taunting Shoto pretending to be you, or letting him in on it being him behind the screen? Or worse... you thought about the photos and videos he’s taken of you, bile rising in your throat as you imagined Shoto seeing any of it, but your anxious train of thought was interrupted with Dabi’s full attention back on you.
“Can’t just leave you alone while I take care of business, now can I doll?” You tried to watch what he was doing but the pain increased the more you tried to glance and watch him gather some things from around the room. Dabi had undone the bindings keeping you in place on the bed, only to flip you on your stomach and bind your arms behind your back tighter than before, attaching those bindings to a pulley you didn’t know was above his bed as one end of the rope kept you up by your arms and the other... the other you turned your head to watch in abject panic at the sight before you. Dabi was holding a large metal hook, a hook that was thick and curved and at the end where normally a terrifying sharp point would be there was a large, tapered ball. The grin on Dabi’s face was enthralled as he watched you watch him, eyes wide and panicked. Dabi spit on the end of the ball before he pushed your legs apart, spreading your ass cheeks with his hand only to spit there, too, and with one cruel motion he pushed the large ball through the tight ring of resistant muscle as the hook bullied its way into your backside. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, a choked, gargled whimper all that you could manage with your hoarse voice. He attached the other end of the chain attached to your arm bindings to the looped end of the hook, forcing you to balance yourself in a sick stamina game. He wasn’t done, however, as he stroked your cheek with a tenderness he hadn’t yet touched you with, not before wrapping a leather strap around your head attached to a ball gag; only where the typical ball would be to stretch your mouth open there was a large, silicone cock that he shoved into your mouth before you realized what was happening. You gagged and struggled around the intrusion as he secured the clip behind your head and watched as more tears pricked your eyes and the sounds of your choking filled the air. His last parting gift to you was to place a large black box on the bed behind you. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn and see what this contraption was, just listening to the shuffling sounds as Dabi made quick work of whatever it was he was accomplishing behind you until you gagged around the intrusion in your throat in an attempt to force a plea of mercy out of your mouth, with him when you felt a large intrusion breaching your pussy. You heard the click of a button before a whirring, mechanical sound was heard as the object that spread your pussy began to move forward. 
The machine began at a slow pace, fucking a horrendously large appendage into your pussy, the speed picking up to a cruel rhythm as you heard the click of a button at least five times. You were crying again, surprised there was any liquid left in your body to give - you couldn’t even be sure you had enough blood in your veins to survive much longer. Every time you tried to shift your body away from the unforgiving onslaught, you were reminded that the front half of you was holding up the back half as the metal ball-hook stuffed in your ass pulled and caused a greater deal of pain.
“Don’t want you getting lonely while I’m gone,” Dabi lent down to kiss your temple before landing a hard smack to your cheek, patting away the sting with a joyful laugh before leaving you alone in the room with nothing but the sounds of your own torture to be heard. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions, however, as th stimulation continued you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen building up and before long a strong orgasm washed over you and you thrashed and struggled because the machine wasn’t a man - it wouldn’t slow down and be kind to you, it would only fuck you at the same brutal pace through your orgasm and into another, and another before your vision blurred and you may or may not have lost consciousness a time or two, or seven.
You weren’t sure how long Dabi had left you alone in the room being assaulted by his contraptions, all you knew was at some point the machine made a loud clunking sound and the assault stopped, however it stopped on a thrust in and left the large plastic cock lodged in your pussy. Your poor abused pussy that was pulsating and tingling, numb from the countless penetrations and clinging tightly onto the intruding plastic cock almost painfully. You wanted it out of you. You wanted everything fucking out of you! You had long since gotten used to breathing and swallowing around the silicone cock shoved down your throat and found a safe middle ground to balance between your upper body and the hook penetrating your ass. The pull from the hook was becoming more and more painful, but at least if you kept this posture up it wouldn’t cause you anymore undue pain. Suddenly, you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as a warm liquid ran down your thighs, spraying lewdly around the cock nestled inside of you. You couldn’t remember if this was the first time you had pissed yourself - unsure if you squirted or peed during some of the more extended orgasm periods in the constant assault you went through, frankly the thought being true one way or another didn’t matter - it just disgusted you. 
The passage of time became untellable to you, there were no windows to give away the time with natural light, no clocks, no devices, nothing. Dabi had been gone for quite a while, though, that you knew. You found yourself wondering where he had gone, and for how long; looking around to see if there was any way to free you of your binds and protect you as you tried to get out of this room - wherever this was. One of the only things keeping you going instead of giving up was knowing that your mom and Shoto would both be looking for you... if they knew you were missing. 
Your emotions ebbed and flowed between hope and anxiety as you tried to reconcile them. Shoto was smart, caring, and attentive; a bit oblivious at times but he wasn’t someone who would let something go.
Something like you telling him you’d text him you were home.
He’s done it before, texted you or called to check in when your approximate time back to your apartment went over, or texting him slipped your mind because something else came up. He always followed up to make sure you were okay - and given the time you’ve been gone he had to know and be looking for you.
He had to know.
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Dabi wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave you alone, would he? No, he would definitely leave you alone... but it wasn’t stupidity, it was arrogance. Shoto couldn’t help the incessant bouncing of his leg, couldn’t help the anticipation of seeing if this tip from a member of the public was true. Blue flames were reported just outside of Kiyashi Ward, and some lower villains were reportedly seen lurking around and causing issues. Endeavor and Shoto were on their way to check into report and Shoto couldn’t help but hope to the heavens that it was true.
The train seemed to take forever but it helped that Shoto had other ways of trying to track you down as a way to pass the time better. He refreshed the service map in the hopes a ping from your cellphone would pop up, but so far nothing has shown up. Endeavor watched on as his son focused on the screen in front of him, worry creasing his features as he kept his mouth shut - knowing that nothing could be of comfort, words or otherwise, until Shoto had eyes on you and by the hard-set, murderous looked darkening his face - Dabi’s head on the ground in front of him. As grieved as Endeavor is over the recent revelations of his eldest son he is also hard-pressed to disagree in that regard given Dabi’s numerous crimes. Endeavor’s chest felt heavy, equally guilty for creating this villain, and now this situation that caused pain to his youngest.
Shoto had seen your phone ping on the map earlier, matching up with the time he was sent the additional photos of you, stomach churning at the memory. He swallowed hard, refreshing two more times before slamming his device down against his leg before shoving it back into his pocket. He had notifications on that were attached to an alarm sound if your phone pinged on the map, but he wasn’t one to wait so patiently in a situation like this - he had always counseled his friends on keeping a cool head but he couldn’t even do that himself. Shoto’s gaze was ripped away from the floor of the train to a few miles south of the city where he saw an unmistakable icy blue blaze flash and disappear. Shoto shot up out of his seat, electing to head to the furthest rear car, opening the door as his father called out after him only to hear his name shouted as he jumped off the moving train, landing on a nearby platform with a harsh impact.
“Shoto! That was too reckless, we were almost at the station what were you thin-” Endeavor’s tirade was cut short as Shoto pointed south, and in the distance, Endeavor took note of the same thing his son had seen earlier before his unceremonious jump from the train. “Let’s go,” nothing else needed to be said, Shoto was already running ahead of Endeavor, who was on the phone making a quick call. The heavy thud of the duos footfalls were all that could be heard on the quiet streets, the citizens already warned of a villain in the area and to take shelter. Shoto was thankful for that, not ready to focus on minimizing loss of life, or damage, or worrying over someone trying to stop him or his father for a photo or an autograph not knowing there was an emergency just a few blocks away. He couldn’t afford to stop when you were suffering somewhere, and it was his fault. He loved you so much already, but he is now the sole cause of the torture you’re experiencing now - all because of his fucked up family. How could he ever face you again after this?
“TOOOUUYYA!” Shoto stopped dead at the loud boom of his father’s voice. His eyes scanning around him until he saw a flash of blue and then as the smoke, dust and falling rubble cleared from a building that just took a hit he could see him - see his brother. His blood boiled as his heart sank into his stomach. Shoto could feel the fiery hot burn on his left side, his fingers clenching and unclenching with an ache to punch in his brother’s face until it was unrecognizable.
“Awe, if it isn’t dear ole Dad,” Dabi chuckled, his voice carrying across the distance between them, “and little Shoto tagged along too, hm? I would think you’d be at home touching yourself to the sweet little videos I made for you - [Name]... she has such a tight little-” a roaring blaze of flame shot toward Dabi, causing him to have to jump out of the way last minute, the edges of his coat burning a moment before the wind from his jump snuffed it out.
“Where is she, Dabi!” Shoto was screaming that same sentence over and over, blasting waves of flame and ice toward his elder brother each time he was met with a psychotic laugh, a taunt, or anything that wasn’t your location. Shoto went to turn and face his father, getting ready to shout a plan of attack but saw the Pro was unmoving behind him, hurriedly whisper-shouting into the receiver of his cell and looking up just in time to see Shoto’s fiery disposition as he shouted for assistance.
“Get your head in the fight, Endeavor!” Shoto all but growled out, catching the end of Endeavor’s phone conversation.
“-out of there, now! We’ll handle this!” Endeavor shoved his phone into his pocket, quirk igniting his body as he shot forward into the fight with Shoto - both of them going full-force at the estranged Todoroki son.
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A glorious moment of keen-eye clarity had you recalling Dabi leaving your phone on the dresser by the door. Though your vision was blurred you could make out the length of the slim device, the scant hope left in your mind at your phone being turned on, or even charged as you tried to shout out across the room.
Your mind began to wonder at how you could possibly access the device, there was no way for you to try to fruitlessly shout Hey Siri! with the damnable gag in your mouth. A fresh wave of tears pricked at your burning eyes as a sickening thought crossed your mind. The plan forming in your head was bleak at best, but if it worked it would help aide in your rescue - or kill you - either way, an escape. You used your tongue to shift around the silicone cock lodged in your throat, painfully stretching your jaw so you could angle your teeth down, sinking into the pliant material as a chunk of it loosened from the shaft, falling loosely in the space against your cheek. You forced yourself to swallow down the vile plastic, gagging on the resistance it put up. Again, again, and again. Chunk after disgusting chunk until you had taken down enough of the gag to use your tongue to force the rest of it from your mouth, spit and specks of shredded silicone sticking to your chin.
“Hey Siri-” your voice was so hoarse you don’t think your phone’s AI assistant would even catch it if it was on. You swallowed the meager amount of saliva you had collected beneath your tongue, coughing and cleaning the spiderweb feeling in the back of your throat, and swallowing down the knot that was created after your idiotic plan.
Idiotic you thought, but successful.
“Hey Siri!” You managed to force your voice out loud enough, clear enough, that when you heard the soft melodic ding! of your AI assistant lighting up your screen ready for a direction, you wanted to start sobbing all over again. “Call work!”
Ring... ring...
Ring...
“Endeavor Agency, how may I-” you couldn’t waste battery life on niceties.
“P-please,” you managed out loud enough for the receiver to pick up. “Please connect me with Kido!” The secretary sensing the urgency didn’t push for more detail as she managed to connect you through to the phone of one of the sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency you became friends with. You were acquainted with most everyone at the agency, but Shoto introduced you to the Flaming Sidekickers and Kido quickly took to you.
“This is Kido,” the smooth voice came from the other end, you really wanted to just cry at this plan having worked, but there wasn’t time.
“Kido,” you managed out, and it’s all you got out before the hero was shouting away from the receiver that he had you on the phone and you could hear a bunch of screaming all around him.
“[Name]!” Kido’s normally quiet voice booming over the phone and filling up the room with its echoes. “[Name] where the Hell are you? Are you okay? We’ve been trying to reach you for-” 
“Kido please,” you pleaded, “I don’t know how much battery this phone has, I’m not even physically holding it. Please. Can you find my location?” Kido reassured you that they had been waiting for your cellphone to be used so they could further triangulate your location, having it turned on only led them to a large expanse of city where you could have been. “Kido, something else...” your voice trailed off as your weight shifted, causing a painful chain reaction with your aching, bound limbs and the anal hook that was still holding your backend up. “Please bring Moe, please only have her come in and find me. Please.” Kido didn’t push that issue further hearing your voice, only agreeing before saying he had your location and they were on their way to you. He promised they would see you soon, they were only a short distance away. You wanted to stay on the phone with them but didn’t want to risk running the battery down in case you needed it for anything, didn’t want to run the risk of Dabi coming back hearing you calling for help.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, didn’t know if you had passed out or simply zoned out of your mind until you heard shuffling outside of the door. Your whole body tensed up with the possibility of it being Dabi returning from wherever the hell he went, before your colleagues could find you. 
“[Name]?” The familiar voice of Moe came through the door, you could turn your head just enough to see the door being pushed open, and the sight of the flaming-haired girl stepping through, her eyes widening in horror at seeing your predicament before yelling something behind her and slamming the door. “Hold tight, let me help you out of this...” the normally boisterous girl was quiet and focused, hands steady as she traced over you gently, trying to figure out where to start in helping you down. “I’m going to release your arms first, there might be some pain when your body drops but we’ll get the rest out right now, I promise.” Her touch was gentle as she unhooked the chain holding your bound arms, the top half of your body dropping, causing a tug to the anal hook that had you choking on a cry, before Moe continued to comfort you, stating she was going to be removing both the anal hook and the dildo attached to the machine. The pull-out of the objects was almost as agonizing as when they went in. Your pussy was sore, gaping and pulsing around nothing after so long of having been stuffed to the brim. The soft pop of the anal hook coming out gave you both relief and another round of pain - but it was over... this all was going to be over.
Moe then worked on undoing the bindings that held onto the rest of your body until you were stripped bare. Moe rushed around the room, finding suitable clothes in the form of a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. Dabi’s, no doubt. You weren’t going to complain about being in anything that had anything to do with him, you just wanted to be covered and out of this nightmare. 
Moe had called for the others to come in now, and you saw Kido holding a cellphone to his ear, having pulled it away quickly when you heard the booming voice of Endeavor on the other end.
“Get her out of there now! We’ll handle this!” Kido only agreeing quickly before hanging up, looking over at you with relieved eyes. Relief quickly changing to a horrified emotion when his sight darted around the room, at the bindings and sex toys, at the way Moe held you upright with a strength that was supportive but soft enough to not put any undue pressure on you. The way your fingers curled into the clothing you were wearing, holding the fabric away as if you didn’t want it touching you.
“C’mon,” Kido’s voice was a gentle monotone, comforting. “We have an unmarked vehicle waiting to get you to a private rehabilitation center.”
“Shoto-”  you tried to speak out but your throat was tight and dry. “I-is Shoto?”
“He’s okay,” Moe spoke as she lifted you up carefully, but had to set you back down as your legs gave way. “He and Endeavor are currently fighting with Dabi on the other side of the city. They will meet up with us when they wrap up his capture.” Kido stepped forward to pick you up bridal style, maneuvering you out of the room carefully to not knock any part of you on a wall, or threshold. The heroes made their way out of the rundown building, carefully putting you into a blacked-out SUV and tore off away from the building. 
“We’re getting you back home, the drive won’t be too long but please let us know if you’re in too much pain to continue travelling,” Kido was driving, looking back at you in the rearview mirror as Moe held you in her arms.
“I’ll be okay,” you managed out, before succumbing to an uncomfortable sleep.
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Beep.
Beep, beep.
Beep.
Your eyelids felt heavy, impossible to open as your consciousness came back to you. The sticky glue of sleep caked in your lashes with tears as you forced them open, burning from the contact with the bright fluorescent light and sterilized air. The gentle beeping of your heart monitor, and the mechanical humming coming from the I.V. fluid machine on a timed drip were the only sounds aside from a gentle breathing to be heard in your room.
Breathing?
You glanced around the large room until your eyes landed on one of the large guest chairs pushed against the wall near the window where a sleeping Shoto was hunched over, head slipping out of his hands as his body gently jolted with his breathing and the myoclonic jerks of his body.
Fresh tears pricked your eyes as you watched him breathe. He was here, in front of you. He was alive, and he was here with you. If he was here with you... Dabi had to be in jail - right?
Your whole body jumped as the sliding door to your room opened, your attention ripping away from Shoto as a doctor trailed by Endeavor and a nurse came into the room. Endeavor’s imposing form filling up the space, menacing in his size even when he wasn’t trying to be imposing. Shoto finally shot up, eyes scanning the intruders until they shot over to you, wet with tears that spilled over onto his cheeks. 
“Miss [last name], glad to see you awake today.” The doctor spoke clinically to you, allowing the nurse to perform a blood pressure check, adjust your I.V. fluids, and assess your body’s physical condition. “You underwent a minor surgery to remove some foreign object from your stomach, we also had one of our in-house quirk users heal the severe internal trauma you suffered, you’ll feel a pretty deep ache, but you should have a full recovery,” the doctor trailed off turning to the nurse behind him as she stepped forward, telling you about mental health counselling they offer here in their facility. You simply nodded, not bothering to look up into anyone's eyes as they droned on and on about your recovery, how you should be totally fine after some bedrest.  
You just nodded along to her handing you a release form, watching as she pulled the I.V. needle from your arm. Looking down at the form as your vision blurred in and out until a gentle touch woke you up from your wandering thoughts. You glanced up to see Shoto smiling down at you, the subtle upturn of his lips reassuring you. You signed the release, and the nurse left the room shortly after Endeavor and the doctor had stepped out a few moments earlier.
“[Name]... I’m so-I’m so sorry,” Shoto’s words got caught in his throat, choking on the weight of reality that couldn’t be erased with a simple apology. His trembling hands were attempting to hold yours, but their grip began to slip as his shoulders shook with the sobs wracking his body. Your hands squeezed around his reassuringly as he looked up at you with wide, watery eyes. 
“Shoto this isn’t yo-” he cut you off.
“Don’t say this isn’t my fault,” he ground out between clenched teeth, “you were hurt because of your connection to me and my family - it is only my fault. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you before any of it happened, I’m sorry I can’t undo any of it.” Shoto continued to cry, unable to look at you as you tugged on his hands, pulling on his arms until he got the message that you wanted him on the bed with you. He rested on his side as you pulled him into your arms, resting his cheek against your chest as he calmed his breathing to the sound of your heart. Your still-beating heart. He was so grateful you were physically here in front of him now, but it didn’t stop the unending waves of guilt and shame that he couldn’t do anything against his brother, couldn’t do anything to protect you when being with him put you in the sights of so many villains. 
“Shoto, wanna go home,” you whispered against his soft hair, words mumbled from your lips pressing against the top of his head. He simply nodded.
“D-did you want to go back to your apartment? Or you can come stay with me... or we can put you up in a new condo in the meantime if you don’t want to do either of those,” Shoto was shooting off a few suggestions, but you just wanted to go back to your familiar bed. As many new, awful memories lived there it was still your place of comfort - for now. 
“I’d like to go back to my apartment for now,” you relented, and he looked up into your eyes from his position resting against you, a frown deepening on his face. “I’ll consider moving to a new place with better security soon but for now I just want the comfort of familiarity.” 
“I’ve already arranged an extended paid leave from work for you, you can take as little or as much time as you want,” he stood up from the bed, gathering what little he had in the room with him before extending a small bag your way. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear the hospital gown home, so I got something simple.” You peeked in the bag and saw a casual black jersey dress, soft and flowy against your fingertips as you touched the fabric. “I thought you’d want something soft and easy,” his nervous mumbling was endearing as you stood from the bed with his help, gripping onto his forearms as he let you use him to gain strength standing.
“It’s perfect, Sho,” you managed a smile, “I’m gonna get changed, I’ll meet you outside in a couple of minutes?” He nodded and took his stuff, leaving the room with the quiet sliding of the door before a soft click sounded. You pulled out the dress and pulled it over your head, the silken fabric falling to your mid-calf and in the bottom of the bag you noted some all-black slip-on canvas shoes. It was small things like this that made you smile so much - this was similar to the outfit you picked out the first day you met Shoto officially, the day you ran into each other that started this relationship. Being back in these clothes spread a wave of butterflies across your whole body and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.
You gathered the paperwork you were given, opting to leave the clothes you were rescued in - they were his any severing any connection to him seemed like the right thing to do. You didn’t want to wear or own anything that was ever his. You stepped out of the room to see Shoto pacing a little, smiling when he saw you exit and extending his hand for you to take. You gladly did, allowing him to pull you closely into his side as he led you out of the clinic and into a waiting company vehicle. You were thankful for the blacked-out windows of the SUV, finding the brightness of the sun uncomfortable, as well as the sight of anyone’s eyes lingering on you too long. Shoto leaned away from you for a second before pulling out your cellphone from his pocket.
“I cleaned it of everything that you didn’t already have on it,” Shoto’s words hooked into your skin. Nothing you didn’t already have on it? So Dabi did use your phone for something.
“Did Dab-” you couldn’t manage to say his name. “Did he send you... I know he took photos, Sho, did he-” you couldn’t get your thoughts out, afraid of the answer.
“Would knowing the truth help you right now?” He asked, simple.
“Yes,” you answered back, barely a whisper. “I think it would.”
“Yes,” he answered back. “He sent me some taunts over text, as well as photos and videos of you in compromising positions. There are no existing copies of the photos or videos, they were briefly used by the detectives to gather location information from the backend of the photos, but those were confirmed deleted, and they were observed during their investigation to ensure nothing slipped through the cracks,” Shoto was clinical in his answer to you which you appreciated. You didn’t want to be babied at this moment. You just gave a brief nod before leading your body into Shoto, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer into his side as the car took you both back to your apartment.
Once arrived Shoto followed you up, asking to enter first just in case anything was missed by the detectives as he scanned your apartment for signs anyone but you had been inside, deeming it good enough for you to come further into your apartment. Shoto watches as your eyes moved around the familiar space with uncertainty, he wanted to hold you in his arms and take you back to his home, but he knew that wasn’t what you wanted. 
“I can stay on the couch if you like,” Shoto offered, met with your shaking head and sad smile. 
“I appreciate it Shoto, so much,” you assured him, leading him back to the door. “Text me when you get home safely yeah? I think I’m going to shower, have some tea and try to get some sleep.” You lent up on your tippy toes to place a soft peck on Shoto’s lips, and he hummed against the kiss, pressing into you for a second longer before you pulled away. “Thank you for fighting for me, Sho, we can talk more tomorrow, okay?” He simply nodded, giving the hand he had clasped around yours a soft squeeze as he left out your door, and down to the waiting car. 
You let yourself stand in your entryway for some time after Shoto left. Letting the silence of your apartment settle into your bones before you finally decided to move to your bathroom, stripping the dress from your body as you looked in the mirror. There was a faint healed white scarring in the shape of two large handprints still beneath your bust, the sight made you physically ill. 
Something new to get used to.
You fell back into your normal routine, taking your time to pamper yourself in the shower and stepping out into the steam, wrapping yourself in a fresh, fluffy towel before crossing the hallway into your room. You went into a familiar drawer and pulled out an old t-shirt and shorts. Everything was so familiar to you but felt so far away... so foreign. You fell into your bed, pulling up the covers as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, having forgotten all about your tea or waiting up for Shoto’s text.
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Back in the SUV, Shoto was feeling relieved but couldn’t stop the anxious jump of his leg. He wanted to stay with you, wanted to soothe the sharp edges of your experience and talk things over with you. He wanted to be there for you, but he also respected your wishes to be alone and reset in your own space. He finally resigned himself, sitting back in the seat as his body relaxed more. He would ask to see you tomorrow, and you could start from there. Just when he was nearly lost in a daydream his phone began to vibrate, going to pick it up thinking it was you until he saw his dad’s number. Shoto hesitated, almost not picking up before he just pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.
“Endeavor,” Shoto’s voice was a flat monotone as he waited for the reason for the late-night call.
“Shoto there’s an issue,” Endeavor hurried out, “the guards at the holding facility with Touya said he’s no longer there, there was some ectoplasmic sludge left in his wake - the detective thinks it was one of Twice’s clones.” Shoto didn’t hesitate to scream at the driver to take him back to your apartment, his father’s loud voice screaming from the receiver for him as he hung up the call. Shoto wasted no time in trying to call you with no answer. He shot you a text to call him as soon as you got his message and kept trying to call you again.
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A harsh banging on your door jolted you from your sleep. You blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you noticed your clock saying it was only about forty minutes from when you first laid down. The banging continued until you got up, shuffling to your front door before peeking through the peephole but seeing no one. An acrid smell assaulted your nostrils and you saw a grey haze that had you worried there was a fire, and someone had just come down the hallways warning everyone. You pulled your door open to find the hallway empty and no obvious signs of a fire, no one was making a fuss and there wasn’t an alarm. It was when you went to shut your door that your blood ran cold - there on your door was a blackened handprint, still steaming and hot to the touch. You slammed your door shut quickly, locking the deadbolt and the knob as you stumbled back from the door. You turned around and ran to your room, hearing the chime of your cellphone before it quickly cut off.
You froze in the doorway, in the dimness of your room there was a brilliant electric blue light - flame - and an unmistakable silhouette with your cellphone to his ear, a familiar voice chilling you to the core as goosebumps spread across your body. 
“Sorry little brother,” Dabi couldn’t hide the jovial tone, each word punctuated with a bit of laughter. “Our little sister can’t come to the phone right now.”
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juicywritinghoard · 11 months
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object + emotion combo prompts list
Select an option from each list and send to the rebblogger of this list (with a character/ship/etc)!
OBJECTS
Sword-shaped dangly earrings
Fake red delicious apple with bite marks
Box too good to throw away just yet
Elegantly made brioche loaf
Blue Scooby Doo fruit snack
Hair dye stain
Holographic vampire sticker
Tiny pizza-shaped eraser
Probably haunted object, too big for the trash compactor to eat
Hello Kitty tarot card (the Tower)
Pile of bills, internet offers, and ads for burger
Very small crocheted frog
Teapot shaped like a strawberry
Single popcorn kernel where it doesn’t belong
Denim jacket with bleach-painted bone motif
8 ball that is always wrong no matter what
Wet cellphone, with an unsent text
Arcade carpet
Key to a storage unit
Flickering neon motel sign
Button that just says BEEF
Lava lamp that sort of works
Ceramic octopus
Costume for a lizard or perhaps small rodent
Bowling ball with a gargoyle in it
Build-a-Bear receipt 
emotions
Unrequited love, probably
Stomach Ache at the worst possible moment
Anxiety that would better suit an active bank robbery than laying in bed in the sunny afternoon
Totally Chill, Nothing Can Prove Otherwise
Clawing at the furniture 
WITH TEARS IN MY EYES I BEGGED YOU TO STAY 
[smooth saxophone begins to play] 
Mortified, perhaps to literal death
Gee Doc How Do You SUGGEST I Lower My Stress Levels
Gotta make gotta make gotta make something new
If they don’t smile at me today I’m going to eat an entire drum set 
Safe with you. Despite
Can’t stop humming love songs
Do you want to hear half an hour straight of facts I know about this just kidding here we go [deep breath] THE
Hollow
Sanguine
I will start a fight and I do not care if I win that fight, even though I will win that fight. I want to draw blood
Cowabummer dude
Proud, so proud it hurts
OH BUT I GOTTA KNOW??? I GOTTA
Quick question what if we didn’t, actually
[deeply affectionate] they are so stupid
Hangry.
SMOOCH
I am looking Respectfully??
The Fear ™ 
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fun-k-board · 1 year
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AHHH YOU DO LACKADAISY REQUESTS??? May I request reader awkwardly confessing to Rocky and thinking it it was a mistake until he gets all happy and does the Beam™
YES YES YES
Pronouns used : None
Note(s) : I can't write romance or Rocky well ahhhhh please help me
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I fumbled with the seams and ends of my clothes, whether a shirt, skirt or jacket whatever I wore was pulled on and scratched at. By the end, Mordecai would've shot me dead for the lack of symmetry after I played with the fabrics for so long. The loud cars outside were muffled by the cafe walls, the aching smell of emmisions clawed it's way in which done nothing to calm my scattered thoughts.
Smoke reminded me of him, the chaotic and almost evil laughter while everything burned behind him caused my cheeks to burn with shyness. I could never tell if he noticed my affectionate and obsessive stares, but curiosity kills the cat, and maybe I would be let back with the promise of love if he returned my feelings.
"You got me pancakes!??" A paw and a violin slammed onto the table, my fur stood on end and I let out a hiss, ears snapped back and tail bushy with shock. The man in question arrived, his lucky R tie on with his signature grin accompanied, tail swishing back and forth with pure joy. Coughing, I patted down my fluffed out fur, his unwavering energy bouncing back at me.
"See? This is why you're the best person I know." His eyes drifted upwards, meeting mine while I felt my cheeks burn yet again. Subconsciously, my ears pinned back with embarrassment and I struggled to get the next words out. Looking down as if my legs were the most interesting thing I'd ever witnessed.
"Oh! Uhm, yeah." I paused, unsure of how to go on as Rocky sat down opposite me in record speed, setting down his violin on the seat next to him. He looked up at me to continue for a moment, after seeing I didn't object to him eating he began wolfing down his meal with eyes closed in contempt, syrup messily spreading all over him. Looking down at my own food, I felt like I'd get more sick if I ate, wanting to get everything over and done with quickly. "You can have mine if you want, there was a discount so I got two." Rocky momentarily stopped, eyes wide and brimming with tears of happiness at the food before him.
"I asked you here about. Well. What I mean to say is-" Realising he didn't hear me from how quiet I was, I breathed in and out, preparing myself. "I really like you. Not in the friend way, like how Ivy and Freckle are, uhm, not that I'm saying we're exactly like that yknow? I just..." I suddenly felt nervous, my ears standing at attention for his reply, but he just swallowed his food and stared intently at me, pancakes forgotten with no expression that I could understand.
"I'm so, so sorry this was dumb I should leave." His unwavering eyes felt like bullets tearing into my flesh, I ached to leave and just as I tried to releave myself of that pain by snapping my arm back to my side, attempting to shakily stand stand up when a familiar paw gripped onto my own. My face may not have visibly gone red, but that didn't change how my entire body was on fire, paws sweaty and shaky as I managed to look up, wide and loving eyes stared back at me. I almost choked at his next words.
Syrup dripped down onto his lucky tie and I instinctively reached over to wipe it off, looking back up at him for a moment I noticed what I was doing, his unblinking eyes so close my breath practically transferring to his. Suddenly self conscious over everything I was doing, my eyes began to dart around nervously, breath quickening as the air shifted to feel like I was suffocating in deep water.
EXTRA -
"You do?" Rocky's face turned to a softer version of his regular smile, my feelings were maxed out as I stumbled over my words, nerves over the roof and unsure if this was an acceptance. Instead nodding sharply. Almost as fast as a bullet, he reached over to hug me and laughed like a maniac. My arms shyly reached over and hugged him back, I could feel him move up and down going from the toes of his feet to them being flat, voice vibrating on my chest and making me snuggle into his collarbone.
I heard a sharp cough and practically had to force the man's strong grip off me, while his laughter died down, he remained uncaring of the guest at our table. When I finally managed to pull his noodle arms off me, I turned to the newcomer and didn't see his demeanor die down for a moment.
"Please don't be disruptive. We have other patrons to serve." One of the waitress' stood by the table, dissaproving gaze in full display as her sharp tone made me suddenly hyper aware of the noise level Rocky was previously laughing at. Speaking of, he didn't reply, and the second my eyes turned to him he simply toothily grinned at me with eyes wide and nothing but happiness in them.
"Oh! I'm sorry, we'll leave." My head shot down in embarrassment, she scoffed and her feet stomped away in annoyance, I looked up at Rocky to see he didn't even look at her as she walked away. No attempt to move or grab his violin.
That's when it happened, he began vibrating. The bright light became searing and I had to look away in fear of blindness, I could hear screams as I felt a hot burn begin on my body. That's when my vision went and a ringing was all I could hear. Bodies littereted the remains of the cafe, fire spreading rapidly as he began burning his way through the earth, creating a crator of pure light. He beamed™ and there were no survivors.
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eskawrites · 11 months
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okay i’m officially obsessed with robin’s high school band experience (i say officially, i’ve been thinking about this for a while and now i’m finally caving and writing about it), so here are my Robin Buckley Band Geek(TM) headcanons for you to enjoy or ignore at your leisure
Robin is actually surprisingly into basketball. did you see her at that game? yeah, she’s there to shred the melody line on 25 or 6 to 4, but she’s also here cheer on/laugh at the Hawkins High team
you bet your ass she has had a crush on like half the girls’ basketball team btw
some of her first jabs at Steve were actually about some of his worst moments on the court. until she saw that those actually hit kind of hard, and then she laid off and started mocking his inability to talk to girls instead
once she and steve become friends, he’s actually surprised when she can keep up with his and lucas’s basketball chats. they ask her to practice with them exactly once, and it goes as terribly as you’d expect. but she still hangs out sometimes and gives lucas pointers when steve isn’t there
her favorite pep band song is Sweet Caroline. it just is.
sweeeet carolliiiiiiine. dun dun DUNNNNNNN
she is not supposed to be standing next to Vickie during Lucas’s game (seriously what even are their lines?? trombone trumpet clarinet? a random baritone row behind them? @ hawkins pep band wtf is going on here)
but she’s a senior and she can do what she wants
Vickie lets her, which is very cute imo
she has a vendetta with the percussion line
this is band kid law. you have to have a vendetta with either the percussion line or the trumpet section, and since she plays trumpet, she only has one option
she’s actually not bad at marching band. she has the discipline, she can think on her feet, she can focus on her steps and the angle of her trumpet and the set list and everything all at once with no issue. it takes her a while to stop stumbling over her feet freshman year, but once she has the fundamentals down, she’s absolutely fine
she took a french horn solo to state contest her junior year and actually ranked pretty high. but between the stress and the ptsd, she just didn’t have the motivation to do it again her senior year
it’s just as well. contest would’ve been after the events of spring break, and even if hawkins high had the resources to send a group of band and choir kids to contest after the “earthquake,” she definitely would’ve backed out
speaking of spring break, the first time she tries to play trumpet again after facing vecna hurts. that’s a lot of air to get through a throat that’s been nearly crushed by upside down vines. she fakes a lot of her playing for a few weeks, and by the time graduation rolls around, she’s mostly just going through the motions
it’s another thing the upside down has taken from her, and it makes her livid
Nancy absolutely understands why Robin is pulling away from band, but sometimes she thinks back on her vague memories of Robin in the bleachers--the crisp jacket, the clean white gloves, the sharp angle of her shoulders as she snaps her horn to attention--and she wishes she’d paid more attention to her back then
Will joins band his sophomore year! he wants to try something that’s just for him. he asks Robin for advice and she tells him how to get on the director’s good side as well as which kids to avoid. she also tells him that if he joins percussion she’ll never forgive him.
i think he’d play sax personally--lots of melody, great for solos, but also not the center of attention and really good at blending in
Robin finds herself going to a lot of hawkins high games during her gap year, which is completely unexpected but also a lot of fun. she and Steve sit in the stands and cheer Will and Lucas on in equal measure
(Will being there for all of Lucas’s games, too <3 it’s what he deservessss)
Robin’s parents are broke and she never ever spends any of her money on herself, so she doesn’t actually own any of the instruments she’s played. which means after high school, she has no access to any of it even if she wanted to keep playing
Nancy, Steve, and all the kids pitch in to get her a really nice trumpet a couple years after high school. we’re talking King brand, silk-lined case, the works. she cherishes that thing like it’s the fucking crown jewels
if/when Robin goes to college, she won’t join band but she’ll befriend a lot of the band kids. they’ll find out she used to play a couple different brass instruments and encourage her to pick it up again, even if it’s just in her free time
she does, and she joins some small groups--not class related, just having fun and performing with her friends
(steve goes to every single performance, even if it’s not even a show or anything. he’s been known to sit in on practices and grin at her with the proudest, dorkiest look on his face)
(Nancy also goes to every performance she can. she surprises Robin once, flying in at the last minute to go to one of her concerts. she shows up with a bouquet of flowers and it takes all of Robin’s willpower not to fall to her knees and propose right there)
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mamawasatesttube · 1 year
Note
Do you have any timkon HCs?
OH BOY DO I EVER!!!!!
kon, like all supers, is a giant softie at heart. tim you have to hold his hand. tim he wants a hug. tim he is laying in your lap and daydreaming about picking out cutlery sets together when you decorate your future home together.
tim is an expert clothes thief. kon is more laid-back about his acts of theft but they do happen. what this means is that sometimes kon will steal a shirt tim stole from dick who stole it from donna, and everyone involved just has to live with that.
tim has yet to successfully teach kon to skateboard without any ttk involved. kon isn't convinced it's physically possible. he has, however, discovered that he loves roller skates!
(yes, this means they do have skate park dates.)
one time kon, half asleep, smiled dreamily at tim and, trying to compliment his eyelashes, told him adoringly "you look like a cow."
it took tim a minute, but he got the gist and did in fact blush really hard about it.
bart, texting cissie: "kon just told tim he looks like a cow and tim is blushing about it. whats wrong with them"
they start dating without realizing they're dating. everyone else can see it very clearly. they are the last to figure this out bc they just melt into it so hard (when you already have a STRONG bond built on deep devotion and trust, etc, what's a little thing like sharing clothes and a bed? and being extra physically affectionate? it's nothing major!)
tim's gender: he's just some guy kon's gender: ✨💖🌟 babygirl 🌟💖✨ together: [bystanders looking on like. how tf did that generic dude land THAT?] except kon is always like LOOK AT TIM HE'S THE PRETTIEST MOST SPECIALEST BOY
they are not the first queer relationship either of them has. tim dates someone else, kon has a passionate makeout with simon valentine at senior prom that turns into a summer fling, tim is NOT jealous, it's just that as kon's bff he thinks kon can do and deserves better ok. and its NOT a whole Thing™ that later on he's smug about simon posting sad breakup song lyrics on instagram. its literally normal theres nothing going on here
one time tim gets a superboy merch jacket styled after kon's leather jacket thinking aw im being supportive and wearing his merch <3. and kon is so offended bc YOU CAN LITERALLY WEAR THE REAL THING ROB. I HAVE BACKUPS. TAKE THAT SHIT OFF PUT MY ACTUAL JACKET ON RIGHT NOW--
they eventually have two apartments, one in metropolis, one in gotham. this is bc you can't permanently take tim out of gotham, but kon would be miserable if he moved there permanently, too. they alternate places.
kon is a morning person; tim is a night owl. kon likes to dote and make tim breakfast every morning; if tim doesnt give him his good night hugs and kissies before he goes to bed he'll pout and also cry. that's a threat tim!!!! he'll cry, do you hear him!!!
kon has a spare collapsible bo staff + a couple batarangs in his gay little thigh pouch. for tim. <3
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dribs-and-drabbles · 10 months
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Colours in Our Skyy 2 Bad Buddy ep 1
I was nervous in the run up to the Our Skyy 2 eps, not least to see what Aof and the team were going to do with our beloved characters and their stories, but also to see if the colours I had interpreted during the series stayed consistent.
And after two out of three (four?) episodes, I think they are.
In ep 1, right off the bat Pat's Blue and Pran's Red make an appearance...but the faculty jackets lend themselves to offering consistency here (the photo makes the blue look black but they are a dark blue).
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But as soon as the action shifts to the auditorium, we can see Pat and Pran's world is full of blue and red. The red curtain is a big part of this but look at the array of random blue and red objects in the room...some of which also move into a different spot later.
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Pat and Pran quite rightly (and as others have already pointed out) exchange their colours in the early part of the ep. I thought it was interesting that they didn't feel like they needed to hide their...friendship...to Ajan Pichai - the senior who Ming could quite easily hear about them from - not reacting at all to him seeing Pat's arm around Pran.
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More blue and red pairings are seen in Pran's shirt and the ice pack (which I pointed out in my addition to @grapejuicegay's post that Pran is 'icing' the same shoulder that he hurt in BBS ep 1 when Pat had the bruised cheek even though Pran didn't get hurt this time round), in Ink and Pa's outfits (the pic is a bit blurry but I wanted to show Pa's red handbag - I really wish I could see what was written on her top), and in the Hightem meeting room. (Note also that Pa carries a tote bag which has orange and lime green - their colours).
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Pops of blue and red also inhabit Ajan Pichai's office (the plaque, book, flowers, even the pens!) but I want to draw your attention to Pichai's shirt - a dark/olive green - a colour for 'bad' things (conflict, an obstacle to Pat and Pran's happiness etc) - and we see Pichai pit them against each other rather than choose between them to end the argument, thus causing them further problems.
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Later, Pichai wears a lighter shirt...which could be labelled as light blue, grey, or a light mint...but regardless, he accepts the end to the auditorium dispute and unknowingly sets up an opportunity for Pat and Pran to have some couple-time alone up north. This is also when he sees Pat with his arm around Pran, so perhaps it also shows his silent support of their...friendship.
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Back to the dark green and it's also on the tent in Pat and Pran's apartment, so it's no surprise that things go wrong for Pat when he comes back and thinks Wai is Pran. (Note also the orange...but I'll talk about that in ep 2's post 😏)
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But on to yellow - the colour that seems to symbolise Pat and Pran's love and happiness - and I thought it was a nice touch to have Korn pick out the broom with the yellow handle and then be thankful for Pat and Pran and tell Wai he loved him. Yellow was also in the cushions that Pat and Pran (and Wai in the morning) laid on when they had their Soft™ lovely-dovey moment, and it was heartbreaking to see Pran had changed into a yellow t-shirt to go and find Pat before their second 'honeymoon' trip only for him to hear Pat exaggeratedly badmouthing him.
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And finally brown - a colour that seems to represent sacrifice, submission, or yielding - and we see it first on Korn as he tricks Pat into drinking with them. Pat then yields to peer pressure and ends up staying longer and drinking much more than he originally planned. That choice ultimately meant he sacrificed his opportunity to go to Pha Pun Dao with Pran the next day. Pat, also already having to sacrifice an open relationship with Pran because of their family situation, is somewhat forced to speak bad of Pran to hide their relationship causing a conflict between him and Pran who overhears him from outside.
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The next day, Pran sets off for Pha Pun Dao alone, wearing a brown jacket (and an orange t-shirt which I will also talk about in ep 2's post). He sacrifices the companionship of Pat in order to show he can do things without him (and is ultimately glad when Pat turns up even if he doesn't show it well) but also has to sacrifice his dignity in the process when he has to walk to the village after the jeep breaks down. And if it weren't for the fact that it was another expected and delicious parallel, the olive-green of the jeep was a clear give-away that Pran was about to suffer in this.
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Lastly, I'll just mention Pat and Pran's backpacks - teal and mint green respectively - the colours which seemed to symbolise Pat and Pran's union as a couple (I couldn't think of a better way to put it 🤭). They were supposed to go on this trip together, to have a second 'honeymoon' where they could be together freely...but despite being apart, they're still carrying/keeping their unity with them. Note also that Pat is shrouded in yellow (on his socks as well!) when he's trying to show his love for Pran and return them to a happier place, albeit unsuccessfully.
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[ep 1] [ep 2] [ep 3] [ep 4] (<- I'm being hopeful)
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miyuhpapayuh · 11 months
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three.
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Zora and Nique sit on her L-shaped sofa, while she fills her friend in on what's been going down.
“You told him where you work??”
“He saw the logo on my jacket, girl.”
“And you ain't cover it??”
“Damn, is he a murderer??”
“That's how you treat ‘em!”
“Yeah, well…”
“Well…?”
“He's different.”
“Wow, you ate them words up!”
Zora rolls her eyes, holding her hands up.
“Yeah, you were right. He's real cool people.”
“Wow, I was right!” Nique claps.
“Aight, don't gloat yourself outta my apartment.” She points, right as her phone begins to ring.
It was Leon.
“Ooo put it on speaker!”
“No? You don't know how to act.”
“Oh come on, I just wanna know what he sounds like!”
“A man. He sounds like a man.”
“Zora, spare the drama and answer the phone.”
Sighing, she answers the call and reluctantly places it on speaker, greeting him.
“Hey Leon,” an effortless smile makes Nique squeal behind her hand.
“Hey Zora. How ya doin’?” His buttery, deep voice comes through.
“Ooo, it's so deep!” She whispers, but it's more of a yell.
“I know!” Zora responds in the same fashion, before answering him.
“I'm good. How was your day?”
“Eh, no broken glass stories today, so I guess that's something, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she laughs, “that's something.”
“I'm stalling, but I wanted to ask if you'd like to come with me to one of my favorite spots. It's a food joint, called What The Fries?™.”
The gasp she lets out enthuses him, same with Nique.
“Sorry, I just always wanted to check it out. I've never seen fries be created in so many ways! I'd love to go with you.”
He smiles bright like she can see him.
“Yeah? Well I'm glad I get to be the one to take you there. And it's better than you're expecting, I promise. How's about this Saturday? Are you working?”
“Uh,” she ponders for a minute, “no I'm actually off, so that's perfect. What time were you thinking?”
“Hm, maybe around three? Sounds good?”
“Sounds good.” She repeats.
“Great, I'll send you the address.”
“Okay,” she says, “can't wait to indulge and talk without an extra set of eyes on us.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I know right. He been keepin’ his distance?”
She takes the phone off speaker and continues talking, making Nique roll her eyes.
“He has! I'm shocked, actually.”
“Well good. His job description ain't said nothing about him harassing you, so it should always be a good ten feet–”
“Mm-mm,” she cuts him off, “twenty-five feet. His ass needs to be damn near invisible.”
He laughs, agreeing with her. “Yeah, he does seem like the hardheaded type.”
“He was pressed as hell once you left. It was really comical.”
“What he say?”
“Asking all these questions about who you were and why you mean mugged his dumb ass, as if he ain't already know.” She snickers.
“You tell him?”
“Nah, I like watching him squirm. Ain't no satisfaction in telling the enemy his just desserts is comin’. Gotta watch it play out if he feelin’ froggy.”
“Tell him to leap, cause I stay ready.”
She was giggling way too much for her own liking, but damn he was hilarious. She knew he was serious, too.
“He don't heed warnings, neither. So y'all might be squabblin’ for real.” She says, looking over at Nique, who's got a huge smile on her face.
“But, anyway. I gotta go. I kinda abandoned my friend to talk to you.” She jokes, earning a shove from her.
“Ah, tell friend I said wassup!”
“He said wassup, friend.” She repeats, looking back in her direction.
She clears her throat and shouts out a hey boyfriend, earning a shove of her own.
“I like her,” he laughs.
“Yeah, I'm sure you do.”
“Well, I'll let y'all get back to it. I look forward to Saturday, ma'am.”
“So do I, dear. You have a good evening.”
“You too.”
After hanging up, she didn't even turn her head good before Nique started.
“Do you hear church bells?! Cause I do!” She snickers.
“Man, come on. We just met like three days ago.”
“And? I ain't seen a smile that big since what's-his-name.”
“Mm. Don't bring that bitch up.”
“Hey, I offered to get the cops called on ‘em, he got warrants and he looks terrible in orange. That's a hit I'm ready to put out, but you won't let me.” She shrugs, making Zora laugh.
“Cause he ain't worth it. He’ll get caught up on his own time. Now, onto more important matters.”
“Yeah, like you got a bodyguard now. Someone scared freckle-face’s dumb ass??”
“I know, I was shocked too! But Leon's got this intimidating stature, especially if you're a scrawn-no-brawn like Cory.”
“How mean was that mug, chile?”
“Vicious,” she snorts. “You'd think Cory crossed his ass in a past life or something. It wasn't friendly at all.”
“That boy better keep it cute,” Nique shakes her head. “Cause I'd hate to attend his funeral.”
“Dramatic as hell. He not gon die— not at the hands of Leon, that is. I can't save him from nobody else.”
“Hell, I kinda wanna see ‘em fight now!”
“Me too!” She laughs.
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Saturday rolled around quicker than Zora anticipated, and she was kinda relieved that he'd planned such a low key first date.
The sun was back, high in the sky, giving her motivation to pull the three day old bun from her head and pick her curls out. She was very grateful that the hair goddesses were on her side.
Mid-seventies weather called for a sundress and she picked the bright orange one from the stack, feeling like an extra spice would do her day some good.
Framing her chestnut curls around her face, she added her new tiger eye bracelet to the nameplate necklace and studs that are always on her person.
Sliding her feet into her wedged sandals, she grabbed her keys and headed to the long awaited spot, where Leon was happily waiting on her.
As if her scent got there before she did, he'd looked up the moment she walked up the sidewalk to the outdoor seating, where he was perched on a bench.
“Hey Zora, you look beautiful.” He greets her with a hug, both of them holding on a little longer.
“Thank you, Leon. You clean up nice.” She responds once they let go and she can take in his fit; a crisp white tee, light wash jeans and seafoam air jordan’s.
He looked good.
He smiles, thanking her before holding the door for her as they head into the white, brick building and order their food.
“I'm paying, so don't try and give me the runaround.” He half jokes, and she just looks up at him and sighs.
“Fine, fine.”
It didn't take her long to figure out what she wanted to indulge in, once she saw bacon, cheese and fries in the same sentence.
Leon was in the mood for a burger and loaded fries, same as hers.
Grabbing their food and heading back outside, the pair get comfy on the bench he was sitting on when she first arrived, sitting a few inches apart.
“Try it,” he nudges, while she stares at it, trying to find a place to attack it.
“I gotta find the right forkful, hol’on,” she chuckles, sticking her fork into the left side where there's a hunk of bacon and cheese.
Taking a bite, she sighs while chewing. He watches with an amused smirk.
“Does that mean you like it?” He asks, biting into his own burger.
“Yeah, it's really good,” she goes back in for a couple more bites, washing it down with her soda.
“How's your burger?” She asks, looking over at him.
“It's delicious. Second time I've had it, it hasn't disappointed me.”
“Good. Now, let's get into the warehouse job you got. Is it like Amazon?”
“Honestly? My granddad got me the job, to keep me outta trouble, but yes it's like Amazon. Smaller scale."
“Mmm, so you are trouble?” She smirks, amused at his laugh.
“I used to be a hothead, I guess you can say. But once you hit thirty, you look around and don't see the people you used to run with no more or they're bad off because the bullshit we used to get into done caught up with ‘em, and I didn't want that to be me. I try and live the straight and narrow life these days.” He explains.
She nods.
“Well, turning over a new leaf is always a good thing. I'm proud of you, even though we've only known each other for about a week.” She smiles.
“Has it been a good week?” He asks.
“Yeah,” she nods, “it has.”
“I love to hear that.”
“I love to say it. You know how many times I've tried to connect with these mamas’ lil dusty sons and they're all simple, slow and stupid? Too many.” She says with the straightest face, making him contemplate on holding his laugh in or not.
“You can laugh, but I'm serious,” she says, not even getting the sentence out as they both cave, wiping tears away as they come back to the point.
“I'm sorry, mama. That was too funny.” He sighs, and the nickname he'd just donned her with doesn't escape her.
“I-I'm serious, it's real bad out here, so don't make me take my words back and fight you.” She points her finger at him.
Holding his hands up in surrender, he flashes a smile. “I promise. I've never stepped out on anybody that ever gave me the time of day.”
“Mhm,”
“You don't believe me? You can personally ask all both of ‘em.”
“All– Leon, you've only had two girlfriends?” She questions, squinting at him as she takes another bite of her fries.
“What I gotta lie for?” He asks with another chuckle.
“I'm sorry, and don't take this the wrong way but… you are too fine to have only gone steady with two women.”
“While I'm flattered, I'm serious. My first girlfriend, Tia. We were in kindergarten, and while you don't think that's serious, we went steady all the way til seventh grade.”
“Really??”
“Yeah, we'd been neighbors since diapers or whatever, and our parents always said we'd either be enemies or friends, and we doubled it on the good side!” He laughs.
“Aw, that's the cutest thing I've ever heard. Seven years.”
“Yeah, you don't think about it when you're a kid, but yeah we were about thirteen or so, shared our actual first kiss and then things got all weird. Puberty was and still is the blame and we've actually agreed on this.”
“Was it an ugly breakup?”
“As ugly as it could be at that age, I suppose. She crossed the fence like usual, but she didn't look happy. In fact, I remember her crying and I didn't understand it then, but I totally got it years later. She felt like we couldn't be in a relationship and be friends like we were, and of course cause we didn't even know how to balance our own feelings, at the time. But I was angry. Accusatory, knowing I couldn't blame her for feeling the way she did, and we didn't talk for a long while.”
“Wow,” she says, waiting for him to continue.
“Well, I apologized, of course.” He laughs, making her do the same. “And she forgave me, and I was able to forgive myself. We're not as close as we used to be, but anytime she needs ol Leon to be a friend, I'm here.”
“Aw, how sweet of you.”
“Yeah, I do what I can, ya know?”
“Mhm. So what you do to the other one?”
“Oh, I'm sure you don't wanna hear about that.” He shakes his head.
“See, it's something you're afraid of sharing with me already?”
“Nah, it's just a little less cinematic.”
“So? If you're telling it, it's gonna be animated anyhow.”
“Cheap shots just keep getting cheaper,” he singsongs.
“Tell the story, Leon,” she mocks in the same fashion.
“Alright, fine. Sophomore year of high school to a little after our college graduation. Candy. Yes, that's her actual name. She was the wild girl to my wild boy. Anything you think we got into, we did it twice.” He shakes his own head.
“Tagged a building?” She asks.
“Try the whole neighborhood.” He scoffs. Her mouth drops.
“Y'all cut curfew and snuck in each other's dorms, didn't you?”
“We got caught so many times.” He answers, shaking his head at himself, again.
“Lord have mercy, I'm not gon guess no more.”
“Good, cause the answer might’ve been the same.” He laughs.
“Okay, alright. So what happen? She find another wild boy?”
“She found many other wild boys and left my ass in the dust, yes she did.”
“Damn, that's so harsh.”
“Can you imagine one of 'em being your friend?” He adds, making her mouth drop open again.
“What?!”
“Yeah, I definitely beat his ass.” He nods.
“That was my follow up question! I'm glad you did, cause what the hell? How'd you–”, she recollects and lowers her heightening tone, “how did you find out?”
“A little after graduation, she was supposed to be going to get her nails done with her girls for the party that night. But instead, she'd buttdialed me while they were making out. She told him that she was gonna dump me and they were gonna move in together and whatever the hell else.”
“I know you not supposed to lay a finger on her, but did you flick her ass in the nose at least?” She asks, reminding him of his fiery ass aunt.
“Nah, I got sisters to handle that. But even then, she wasn't worth it. Her stuff was definitely waiting for her on the curb and I went on my way.”
“Wow, I'm sorry that happened to you.”
He shrugs. “It's not the worst thing that's happened.”
“Yeah, I understand that. We've all got our woes.”
He nods, and they take a few minutes to continue eating. Enjoying the sun as it gets to its most golden point, shining down on their kissed skin.
“I get to hear about your woes?” He asks.
“Eh, they end up just like Candy. Their shit on the curb,” she clears her throat, “maybe a tire or three slashed.”
He gasps. “What??”
“You only get in trouble if you slash all four. If you're gonna do it, do it correctly.” She quips.
“Touché.”
“Plus, he deserved it. He slept with the bitch that tried to break into my car.”
“That pretty little bug over there?” He points just down the way.
“Yeah, she's been thuggin’ it out with me for a while now.” She gives a fond smile.
“Did you beat her ass?”
“And his, too.” She says with a roll of her neck, causing another gleaming smile and hearty laugh to come her way.
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Stepping out of her wedges, she cracks her toes on her plush rug and sighs. The stereo is currently playing one of her old mixes off a burned cd. Her phone starts ringing, sending her back towards her bed to retrieve it.
“Hey ma,” she sings.
“Hey, my baby. How was your day?”
“It was actually really good,” she nods, placing her phone on speaker and she shifts through her t-shirts.
“Yeah? What happened?”
“Ugh, Pamela, don't be so nosy.” She snorts, knowing her mother would jerk her collar if she were near.
“Zora-Jean.”
“You and Nique, and that damn Zora-Jean! Please!” She laughs again, pulling the dark green, ninja turtles tee from the pile.
It's country, I know. But I love it. What else was your middle name supposed to be?” Pam questions.
“Yeah, you're right. I guess I'll relax. Just a little. Ooh, I wasn't supposed to tell on her, but she's been riding me all day bout shit— Nique first-named you on the phone the other night.”
“No she didn't!” She hollers.
“Yes she did!” Zora hollers back.
“Lord have mercy, Ima have to kick her where the sun don't shine.” She says, making Zora fall out in laughter.
“You so crazy, girl,” her mother remarks, as she comes back to. “But, why was your day so good? Yeah I'm being nosy, cause you usually always telling me about Cody… Cody?”
“Cory.”
“Yeah, him. Or some patron and their rude asses. So wassup? You find you some new flowers? Ooh, did you see the ones I shared with you?”
“Yes ma, I saw them. I liked the red bunch, that was really pretty, but no I already have my bunch for the next two weeks.”
“Okay so…”
“I met a man.” She smiles.
“Oh, you met a man.” She draws out.
“Yeah, a man.”
“Alright, what's different about this one?”
“He's an open book. First time I've seen, wrapped in mahogany brown skin. He's so fine, mama.”
“Ah, he knows how to communicate? Don't applaud a fish for swimmin’, Jean.”
Zora sucks her teeth, plopping down on the bed.
“You asked what was different, that's different. Jesus ma, relax.”
“You and this relax,”
“Try it, sometime. I think he's cool. He's a goof. Real tall and lanky, but muscular where it counts, like a voluptuous woman loves, apparently. That's what I seem to keep attracting, so… maybe this time it could be different. Can we leave some room for some hope? That's a lot for me too, but i'm doing it.”
Pamela sighs, taking in her youngest daughter's words.
“I hear you, baby. There's always room for hope.”
Ch 4
@sheabuttahwrites @thegifstories @blackerthings @blackpinup22 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ghostfacekill-monger @harmshake @nayaxwrites @cecereads209 @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @twistedcharismaaa @soufcakmistress
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sungbeam · 2 years
Text
𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
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nonidol!kim hongjoong x fem!reader
you and joong made a promise to each other. now the world wants to test that.
genre. strangers 2 lovers, fluff, angst, scene by scene
warnings. fast paced! (cuz it time-skips after the first part, but slows a little afterward), dorks™, angst, panicking (like actual anxiety attacks, happens twice), stress, fluff tho, swear words (as usual), emotional asf, bliss to pain, but comfort too, plot but not really, barely proofread
inspired by. lany’s (what i wish just one person would say to me)
word count. 12.1k
taglist. @yuufiles @rge-nini @bookishcalls / permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @doodlewon @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @hoohoohope @kpop718
a/n: i love kim hongjoong, that is all. (also, this was gonna be a WHOLE lot sadder, so uh yw)
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— part one: our hearts were set aflame
It had taken you about five seconds of crossing the threshold of the store entrance to realize that you were way in over your head. People buzzed about the floor of the clothing shop, paper bags with other store logos hanging from their arms and clashing against racks, shelves and rows upon more shelves and rows of clothing in colors that you could only imagine created a mass labyrinth. And there you were, standing at the glass doors gaping like a fish, a complete idiot.
There were many things you could research, but shopping was something much easier to do in theory than in practice. (Like writing, but you’d rather not speak on that.)
People were starting to stare at you and you caught someone with a headset glancing your way. You swallowed. It was just shopping… right?
You went first to your left, where all of the business formal wear seemed to all be located. This would be a good start, you thought, eyes skimming through the suit jackets, all blocked off based on color and coordinated as such. There were just so many—
A cough. “I think the taupe would look really good on you.”
You whirled around to see who had suddenly appeared at your side, and you found a young man standing slightly behind you. He had dark hair, slightly swept back in a neat yet charming sort of way; a pair of black headphones hung around his neck, the ears littered with colorful stickers. You could tell he knew how to dress with his black cargo pants and boots, silver chain hanging around his pretty neck, white graphic tee tucked beneath a dark bomber jacket.
Intimidating. Yeah, anyone who could dress well was automatically intimidating.
But then he smiled, flushing under the late morning light the color of light raspberry lemonade. He scratched his head as if suddenly embarrassed by your eyes on him. “Sor—sorry, I mean, uhm, I think taupe works really well with your, uh—your eyes.”
You almost laughed. He was cute. “My eyes?”
“Yeah, it uhm—” he licked his lips, beaming boyishly, “—brings out your eyes.”
“Is that so?” You turned to the rack of clothing once more, eyes narrowed while you rifled through to find what you thought your size was. (And according to the clothing you already had in your closet. You usually didn’t go shopping alone, but since everyone else was busy…)
“Like this?” You found a jacket that was tagged with your size and you held it against your front.
The man’s smile widened. “Yes, it’s perfect. Pair it with light colored slacks and that satin blouse over there and you’re golden.”
You followed his nod in the direction of said “slacks” and “satin blouse”. You only saw a sea of fabrics. “Would you mind, y'know…?”
“Showing you?” His eyes lit up and there was something about the bounce in his step as he gestured for you to follow him. “Of course!”
There was a sort of relief that filled your lungs when he understood you completely. He must have seen the anxiety in your smile or heard the nervousness in your voice. But the way he didn’t hesitate—that seemed to be the thing that had your heart racing. He was absolutely a-light.
He peered over his shoulder at you as he guided you through the labyrinth. “I’m Hongjoong, by the way.”
“I’m Yn. And thank you, Hongjoong. I’m helpless when it comes to this stuff,” you said, laughing awkwardly. Helpless was the understatement of the century.
He waited until you replied before breaking eye contact with you and turning back to the front. “Nice to meet you, Yn. And don’t worry about it; you’ve accidentally met the right person!”
You didn’t know it yet, but by the way your heart skipped a beat and a smile teased the corners of your lips with a semblance of hope—well, maybe you did know. In this moment, you knew you had met the right person.
— ✶
Two hours and eighteen minutes and three shops later, your hands gripped two paper bags each, all filled with clothing and accessories. Hongjoong himself carried just as many bags, perhaps one or two for himself, but all the rest were yours that he had offered to carry for you. He had dragged you into each store, carting you around the clothing labyrinths, piling articles and garments into both yours and his arms. He had been a kid in a candy shop—clapping his hands when you emerged in a piece he liked, or narrowing his eyes, tongue stuck out, as he fixed something wrong with the outfit he had put together on the spot.
You were convinced he had magical powers, and as always, your curiosity and thirst for research had you dragging him to the mall’s bistro for a cup of coffee. And maybe a sandwich or two.
Kim Hongjoong sat across from you, cheek resting against his fist while his other hand idly stirred the latte in a pretty, white porcelain saucer in front of him. He didn’t seem interested in the coffee, really. You could sense his gaze, at this point, from all the time you had spent together today. You could probably pick him out of a lecture hall if you stood at the podium.
“I like your headphones,” you blurted out suddenly while gesturing to the accessory hanging around his neck. “I didn’t say it earlier, but they’re really cool.”
Hongjoong unconsciously touched one of the ear pieces, chuckling. “Ah, thank you! I’ve had them since I was a kid and kinda just… revamped them.”
“You had those massive headphones when you were a kid?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Dad thought I’d just grow into them. They still work, so I’m not exactly complaining.”
You nodded and brushed your hands from the crumbs of your finished sandwich. “Do you revamp a lot of things?”
Hongjoong hummed and bobbed his head. “Yup. It’s, uhm, kinda my thing,” he laughed and clutched the back of his neck. You’d learned he did that when he got shy. And that was often. “I take the things no one wants and make them feel loved again.”
“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” you mused. There was something about the way he had worded what he said that made your heart flutter. When you had asked him, spontaneously, for his help today, you had unintentionally opened the floodgates of his passions. It was one of the best decisions you had made in awhile. “You’re an upcycler then?”
“Is that what we’re called? Then yes, that’s me!” He finally lifted the coffee cup to his lips, but held your eye contact. He exhaled contentedly after taking a sip. “It’s just really cool to take an old, ratty T-shirt like this—” he pinched the shirt on his torso and snapped it against himself, “—and giving it a second life.”
Your eyebrows shot up and you leaned forward to take a closer look at the graffiti-esque designs on the garment. “Wow. You did that yourself?”
He lifted one shoulder in a modest, half-hearted shrug. The corners of his eyes crinkled in delight. “Yeah. Made the necklace, too.”
“That’s amazing, Hongjoong. Really,” you said. Sure, you could write. But could you create in the way he could? In no way, shape or form. “Have you ever thought about going into fashion or design?”
“That’s actually my major and, like, my goal in life.” His gaze flickered from his coffee to you. “I’ve always wanted to design clothes and become one of those household names in fashion. Y'know, like New York Fashion Week kind of thing. It’s always been a dream of mine.”
You nodded. “No, that’s great. Like your own company?”
“Yep, getting some help from my friends to start it up,” he chuckled. “They’ve been cool about all this…” His voice trailed off, but he suddenly shot up, waving his hands in almost a sheepish manner. “But enough about me!”
Never enough of you. “Oh—”
“Let’s talk about you!”
“How about no?” You laughed, teeth pressed in an awkward smile. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed by your ambitions, really. Hearing Hongjoong talk about his upcycling and fashion dreams made yours seem so… mundane? Yes, yours were so very mundane in comparison.
Hongjoong frowned, bottom lip jutting out. “Oh, come on, Yn. It’s only fair,” he prompted. “At least let me drink this coffee.”
With that, you caved. You couldn’t help the smile that found its way to your face, and while you had your head ducked slightly, you hadn’t noticed Hongjoong’s smile that had crept onto his lips while he lifted the cup to his mouth once more. “I'm… a writer,” you confessed. “Well, that’s my ultimate goal, y'know. I’m majoring in writing and all that jazz, and—I don’t know.” You pursed your lips. “Sorry, I’m not really that interesting.”
Hongjoong set the cup down. “That’s fucking nonsense—excuse my French.”
A giggle fell from your lips and his eyes shot to you, fondness softening his smile lines.
“How long have you been writing?”
You hummed. “Since I was a kid,” you replied. “I once found some of my writing assignments from primary school and I guess I always had an active imagination.” Those works were cute… to an extent. You had definitely cringed at not only your atrocious handwriting, but the pieces where you had included your current crush at the time of creation. Not your finest moments, but Hongjoong didn’t need to know those details.
Hongjoong’s hand flicked at the space between them. “Ah, so we’re both fulfilling our childhood dreams. You must read a lot then, Yn-ah.”
“I do, yeah. There’s something about reading that brings you a sort of satisfaction that real life doesn’t.” You could recall the days when your parents, who had always been fond of reading, had once tried to make you read a few classics when you were young. You had hated it then, but now, all you did was read. It was a miracle you hadn’t tucked a paperback into your purse today.
And while you rambled on and on about why reading was so important to you now, Hongjoong committed his full, undivided attention to you. There was something about how your eyes had grown wide, how your voice had become a little livelier, that made you glow. You gestured wildly with your hands as you spoke about the nuances of a certain work you were reading for your literature seminar. You couldn’t believe how elegantly this author could write about these monstrosities, and he couldn’t either.
He was all smiles, all nods, all eyes on you. Because there was just—it was unexplainable.
“You should meet my friends and get them to read like you do,” he half-joked to you at one point. His friends did not like to read; they’d much rather glue their eyeballs to their computer screens than ever make contact with a book.
He adored the way you seemed to perk up more. “Oh, of course! My friend San loves to read, too. And I think all of my friends would just love your style advice and pieces.” You quickly added, “Sorry, as long as you’re comfortable, of course!”
Hongjoong couldn’t have been more comfortable. “I’d love to meet your friends, Yn.”
Relief filled your eyes, loosened your shoulders. You picked up your own cup of half-drank coffee and he clinked his cup against it. “To new friendships then.”
He dipped his head to you, a twinkle in his beautiful eyes. “To new friendships.”
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— part two: everything i’ve ever wanted, everything i need
It had taken about five seconds of crossing the threshold into your apartment that you knew something was different. Perhaps it was the curtains of your windows drawn closed, or the smell of burnt eggs. Or perhaps it was the fact that there were eight men scattered about your apartment, doing god knows what.
It had been a good six months since you had met Kim Hongjoong and his friends, and they had positively invaded your apartment once again. Your friends had always known the password to the apartment, but you had also given Hongjoong the code. He had then begun to come over more often than your other friends (Wooyoung and San had been way more choked up and butthurt about your new friends “stealing” you; Yeosang and Jongho couldn’t give two shits, which was practically par for the course). In the little nook where your desk sat by the far window, Hongjoong had even brought himself a mannequin to work on while you wrote. Sometimes you would come home from your classes or internship to find him at the window with your back to you, a measuring tape draped around his neck, as he worked on his newest project.
“Hi Yn!” The apartment chorused all at once as the front door shut behind you. You noted that one of the windows had been opened, and Yunho stood by it to fan the smell of the burnt food out. Seonghwa was stationed in the kitchen, most likely attempting to rescue dinner, a pot of ramen boiling away on the stove as he dug fresh eggs out of the fridge. Wooyoung had perched himself on the kitchen counter, “watching the ramen”. Everyone else was in the living room portion, where San and Yeosang were duking it out in Smash Bros (their game, not yours) on the TV screen.
It was no uncommon sight ever since your groups came together. Rather, it was quite welcomed.
You stepped over legs and answered hooted greetings from the boys, until you reached the corner of the couch where Hongjoong lounged. His dark hair hung relaxed over his forehead, and he wore a light colored hoodie that swallowed him up. “Hey.”
He lifted his eyes from his phone and sent you a smile, raising his arm for you to slip under. “Hi baby doll,” he murmured, lips ghosting over the side of your head.
Jongho made a guttural noise of disgust, but his eyes were still glued to the television screen. “Ew, get a room!”
“Aw, I think they’re cute,” Mingi said with a pout, nudging Jongho.
You chuckled, settling yourself against Hongjoong’s body to get comfortable. With a glance at the screen, you determined that Yeosang was winning. “How long have you guys been here?” You raised your voice so those in the kitchen could hear you over the TV and over the four boys sucked into the video game.
“About twenty minutes,” Seonghwa called back while he cracked the eggs into a new pot.
Wooyoung smirked. “But hyung’s been here longer—Hongjoong hyungie.”
You didn’t have to look to know that Hongjoong was glaring daggers at Wooyoung by the way the latter giggled nervously and began ducking his head to avoid his eyes. Hongjoong made a gruff noise from the back of his throat, one you recognized as exasperation. “Yah,” he scolded, “I wasn’t here that much longer.”
“You said you were here since four thirty,” San said suddenly without taking his eyes off the TV. A ghost of a smile played on his lips.
“You’ve been here an hour?” You teased, chuckling to yourself.
Hongjoong pouted, hiding his face in your neck and hair. “Yn-ie.”
Yunho glanced out the window where he stood, then sent a fond smile yours and Hongjoong’s way. “He practically lives here, Yn-ah. Me and Seonghwa hardly ever see him at the apartment anymore.”
Hongjoong began to protest, “That’s not true—”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes; scoffed. “Oh, cut the crap, Joong. Just move in with her already. You’re practically married.”
Everyone burst into either laughter or murmurs of agreement. Well, all except for you and Hongjoong. You shifted in his hold so you could see his face. As he was blushing a blatant cherry red, so too did your neck and face feel hot. And you had a feeling it was not from whatever Seonghwa was attempting to cook.
Hongjoong’s fingers danced along the nape of your neck, the dark irises of his eyes darting to and fro as he searched your expression for a sign—anything. But it had been six months, and you couldn’t deny the rapidity of your heart beat at the thought of waking up next to him .
“What do you say?” You asked him softly, volume low enough that only he could hear you. “Wanna be my roommate?”
A smile bloomed upon his mouth. “There’s nothing I’d love more, doll.”
— ✶
Moving in wasn’t so difficult to do, especially when Hongjoong was practically half-moved already. He had a section of the dresser in your bedroom already filled with his backup clothes for nights he slept over; one side of the bathroom counter had his toiletries and skincare and makeup; and of course, there was the makeshift workspace right next to yours. That left only the rest of Hongjoong’s extensive closet and shoes, his favorite blankets and gear and tech, and his second mannequin and tubs of materials. All of these, you would find a home for. Oddly enough, you kept your workspace a little messy (as your brain was), but you were able to keep the rest of your apartment tidy.
You had been walking into the apartment with another one of his boxes of clothes when you noticed the little chain that had fallen onto the floor. It wasn’t one that you had seen him wear before, and trust that you had seen quite a few of them by now. It was similar to the silver chain link choker you often saw him wear, but this one had a small cabochon in the shape of a key hanging from the center.
You were able to kneel down and sweep it off the ground. “Joong!” You called into the apartment, venturing deeper into the bedroom, where Hongjoong had gone to start organizing some of his things into drawers and the closet space.
“In here!” He replied from the closet. He poked his head out. “What’s up, doll?”
“I think you dropped this,” you chuckled, showing him the chain dangling from your fingers. “Probably fell out of a jewelry box or some—”
“Oh shit, you weren’t supposed to see that yet,” he swore. Hongjoong winced, hissing to himself, as he hustled over to you and took the chain. He raked a hand through his raven dark locks; why was he so stressed about this? There was that pout again. “It was supposed to be a surprise, like—like an apartment warming gift and a thank you for letting me move in with you.”
He slumped, sulking, and you imagined he was beating himself to a pulp on the inside.
“Oh, honey,” you murmured with a small smile. You set the box down on the ground and gathered him into your arms. He brought his arms up to wrap around your waist, chin settled on your shoulder. “You’re so sweet, but you didn’t have to get me anything. I think it was only a matter of time before we moved in together anyway.”
“It was gonna be a cute reveal, too,” he sulked some more, playing with the chain behind your back. “See?” He moved back slightly and withdrew his own chain link choker from beneath his shirt collar. Instead of a key, however, a silver lock hung from the center. “Because you’ve unlocked the key to my heart—something sappy like that.”
Your cheeks warmed. “Surprise or not, it’s beautiful. I love it a lot, Joong.”
Hongjoong brightened. “I’m glad.” He made a swirling motion with his fingers. “Alright, now turn around for me, babe. Let’s put this on, shall we?”
You turned your back to him and let him link the choker around your neck. The chain rested just above your collarbones, comfortably. There was a bit of weight to it, but it was a welcomed presence that didn’t really bother you much. You fiddled with the key charm, trying your hardest not to smile too big.
When you turned around to show him with a little “ta-da”, Hongjoong’s eyes flickered to your collar. He grinned, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He stepped closer, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’re stunning. Dear fucking god, you’re perfect.”
“Hongjoong, you can’t just say something like that!” You stammered helplessly. Oh Lord, you were a mess he was making you an utter mess with his words. That was supposed to be you, wasn’t it?
He cupped your cheek in his hand, lips parted in awe. “I need to kiss you. Let me kiss you.”
“Kiss me then,” you told him.
One arm wrapped around your waist and the other tilting your chin up toward him, he pressed his lips against yours, the seal on an old chapter and the beginning of a new one. Because there was no one else either of you would want to be with—could imagine yourselves with—for the rest of your lives.
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— part three: the world is yours; i’ll hold it down at home
It had taken about five seconds of you crossing the threshold of the bathroom and into the bedroom for you to feel the weight of Hongjoong’s stare. There were different types of looks, you’d come to realize over time: the awe, the analyst, and so on. His narrowed eyes and tilted head signified his critic’s view. Oftentimes, Hongjoong liked to use you as his live mannequin rather than the canvas ones he had.
He had argued that “you make everything look ten times better”. Or something along those lines. But you knew he liked playing dress up with you (not that you complained).
The piece you were currently modeling for him was an evening gown made of dark gossamer, satin, and tulle. It was rather different from the silk slips you usually thought to wear; this was more like a Gothic wedding dress, almost. Hongjoong had said it was for a class project.
“What do we think?” You asked him, arms held out as you twirled for him—slowly.
Hongjoong bit the tip of his thumb. “There’s something wrong with the bodice,” he said. He stood from the bed, twirling his finger in the air. “Turn to the front again please.”
You did as he asked, chin ducked to take a peek at the bodice again. In your very humble opinion, you thought the chest was brilliant. The fabric was matte and layered with a black lace, its collar cleaved open just enough to leave something for the imagination. The sleeves attached were slightly puffed like flower petals. As was everything Hongjoong created, it was beautiful, brilliant—
“I have these black crystal beads we could try threading,” he muttered, chin propped on his fist as he swung from side to side in thought.
“We?” You mused. “But I think I know what you’re talking about. Just in moderation though, right?”
He smiled at you from over his clear glasses frames. “Of course, doll. You already shine like the sun, so we don’t wanna blind anyone.”
There went your heart again. “Hongjoong.”
“I love you,” he sang in reply. He whirled on the heel of his slippers and hurried out of the bedroom. You shuffled after him in the large skirts. You heard him rummaging through his work station drawers until he fished out a small container of black acrylic beads.
With a speed you were still in awe at (even after watching him do it thousands of times), Hongjoong whipped out a spool of black thread, then threaded and knotted a needle. You swore you only blinked and he was walking toward you with a threaded string of the black beads.
He glanced at your face, stark with awe and fondness, and you couldn’t believe how cute he looked with his safety pin earrings and dorky glasses. “What?” You spotted the brush of scarlet on his cheekbones while he got to work, attaching the string of beads to the front of the dress.
You chuckled. “You’re just… incredible. Why do you like me again?”
“You know why I love you.”
“Ah, but you better still love me when you’re rich and famous and sending models out down runways in Milan.”
He pouted, head ducking to try and hide his burning cheeks. Try. “Yn-ie,” he whined. “And you say I’m the flirt.”
“You are!”
“Ai,” he scolded lightly. You knew he couldn’t deny it—not completely, at least. “If I’m in Milan though, you know you’ll be there with me, right? You’d be my bright, shining star. The feature model—”
You shook your head. “You know I wouldn’t like that.”
“Okay, yeah.”
He stood up straight now, impaling the needle onto the pin cushion attached to his wrist. He considered the added beads draped like a little upward crescent… and nodded. Hongjoong stepped closer into the circumference of your poofy skirts, hands settling on your waist. His hands rubbed your sides as a sigh fell from his lips—your hands went to his shoulders. “You’d be by my side then? You’d be there when I’m panicking and screaming at people?”
“In sickness and in health,” you joked. “I’ll be your tangible conscience.”
Hongjoong bit his lip through a smile. “The only competent mind and body in that backstage area.”
“Not the only one.”
Before anything else could be said, your phone chirped loudly from inside the bedroom, audibly announcing the time. You realized that the sun had just begun to set through the window of your apartment. The two of you had spent nearly the entire day with Hongjoong’s dress project.
You removed your hands from his shoulders and hiked up the skirt fabric. “Alright, time to go! Yunho’s gonna kill us if we’re late again,” you said as you waddled back into the bedroom. Every week, yours and Hongjoong’s friends got together to have dinner together, whether that be at someone’s apartment or at a nearby restaurant. Tonight, it was at a restaurant again, but it was one that required all members of a party to be present to then be seated. You and Hongjoong had accidentally held them up once. It wasn’t like either of you to be tardy, but shit happened.
As predicted, Yunho hadn’t been pleased. (Hangry, tall man.)
Hongjoong trudged after you with an over exaggerated frown. “Oh, come on. It was one time!”
“And he’ll never let us live it down!” You exclaimed with a vague hand gesture. “Now come unzip me.”
“Dangerous words,” he whistled. You threw a glare at him from over your shoulder and he raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry!”
— ✶
For the most part, you were pretty good at meeting a deadline. For the most part. But for some reason, when it came to writing longer pieces, you were the absolute worst at meeting the deadline given to you. You could get copy edits back to your supervisor in half the time given to you, you could draft up possible theses and essay content paragraphs in an hour or less… but writing short stories? A collection of poetry? Your brain liked writer’s block.
It was a bit odd, since you were always able to write recreationally, but if it was for coursework, you literally could not function. (Not until the last minute, at least.)
The apartment was quiet except for the dull, calming sound of brown noise buzzing right next to you from your phone. The light from the kitchen had been left on, as well as the lamp on the desk beside your laptop, but the remainder of the space was left dim or dark. The clock in the bottom corner of your screen displayed something along the lines of 3:52am, but your fingers had been flying over the keyboard for the past three hours straight, and you were going to make this deadline.
The door to the bedroom creaked open, a yawning breath of air.
You barely registered the sound, but could feel Hongjoong’s presence as he slumped over to you and draped his upper body over the back of your chair. “Can’t sleep?” You murmured to him softly as your pointer finger stalled on the page by repeatedly tapping the “j” key until you decided on the appropriate word to continue your sentence.
He hummed into your hair. “Mm. Missed you.”
“I’m almost done,” you promised. A few more paragraphs of this description, and you would call it a night. Lord knew you needed a bit of sleep.
“Come to bed please,” he whispered. You could feel his breath tickle the hairs on your head; could feel his breathing already begin to even out.
“Go back to bed, Joongbug.” You reached up and gently scratched his head. “I’ll be there in five minutes, okay?”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
And in five minutes, you had closed the lid of your laptop, shut the lights off, and climbed into the warm covers on the bed. Hongjoong’s arms found you almost immediately, his limbs wrapping around your body to be cradled in his embrace. You shut your eyes with a tired sigh, nose snuggling into his chest.
— ✶
“Got you your favorite, doll.” The hot paper cup was pushed carefully across the table as you settled into your chair opposite to Hongjoong. He sipped his own little cup of well-espresso’d coffee. He wore his dark hair swept back as usual today, but had chosen a nutmeg colored trench coat and cream sweater to beat the winter weather beginning to blow through the city. There was a sparkle in his eyes this afternoon; you had a feeling you were about to hear good news.
You shivered as you cupped your hands around the drink, gingerly blowing cool air through the mouth of the lid. “Thank you. How was your day, love?”
As you brought the lid to your lips, he lowered his cup to reveal the full-blown grin on his face. “You know that designer I’ve been contacting about an internship?”
You nodded. He had been antsy about the whole thing for a couple of weeks now, always coming to you with drafts of his emails and correspondence, asking if what he said was too informal or if there was a better way to say “Oh, cool. Thanks.” (There was, but then again, it didn’t sound like Hongjoong.) “Mhm. Of course.”
“Well,” he giggled. “He offered me an apprenticeship! Like a full on, actually paid internship thing where I shadow him and work beside him and get to turn my fashion dreams into realities I didn’t even know existed!” He gushed with a small squeal, palms pressed together like a prayer.
You beamed at him, practically leaping across the table to wrap your arms around him and press a kiss to his mouth. “Congratulations, Joong! Oh my god—this… this is incredible. You’re incredible.”
When you’d both settled down a little, you stared at him with what you knew to be hearts in your eyes, cheek lying in your cupped hand. “I’m so proud of you.”
He reached for your hand over the table. “Thank you, Yn. I couldn’t have done it without you though.”
“You could’ve gotten here without me!” You insisted. “Don’t sell yourself short.” Because if you knew Hongjoong…
Hongjoong couldn’t stop smiling. “I just… I have you to thank for being my support system and my partner and my—my inspiration. I’m just… the luckiest man on this fucking planet.” And he lifted your hand to his lips in a kiss to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours, the twinkle in his irises never fading.
“I love you,” you told him with an equally radiant expression. You were beaming, glowing—he got the position. He was going to do big things one day. “And I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me.”
You set your other hand palm up on the table, a silent question. Without hesitation, Hongjoong placed his hand over yours. Fingers intertwined, two pairs of hands held firmly and warmly.
You captured his gaze in yours, held it. “I’ll stand with you, stand by you… in all your endeavors, Hongjoong, now and forever.” As long as you’ll have me.
Silver pooled in his eyes, that smile wavering as his lip quivered. He scrambled for the perfect words to say back to you, to reassure you that he felt the exact same about you. All of his elegance had drained away and left only a mess of his emotions. “And I’ll be there for you every step of the way, too, Yn.” As long as you’ll have me.
—  ✶
For the past several nights, you had been working late into the night on a major assignment of yours. It wasn’t for school, but rather, for your work this time. Your boss had recently offered you an opportunity to become fully employed at the publishing company, not as a regular editor, but to work directly under the Chief Editor. It was an opportunity you simply couldn’t pass up, but you had lately been so persistent on perfection that you often forgot to go to sleep.
Hongjoong would usually stay up with you because you were both workaholics, but his new internship packed on top of his course work had him drained from the moment he finished his dinner at ten o'clock. You would find him passed out on the bed, deep into sleep, after emerging from the shower.
Your place at the desk had grown old and uncomfortable, and so your new work space in the meantime was the couch and coffee table.
It felt like déjà vu when the bedroom door parted open and your sleepy lover shuffled out. He settled beside you on the couch and rested his head against your shoulder, mindlessly watching you type away and letting sleep tickle the corner of his eyes. You knew he would fall asleep there and you knew you would lose all feeling in your left arm, but you had learned how to type with one hand now.
Hongjoong inhaled the comforting scent of your shampoo, the smell lulling him to sleep like a babe in a crib. He wondered if you ever minded him staring at your screen, watching you string words together out of thin air like a magician. You could finagle a manuscript just as well as he could sew a hem. Probably better. He still drew blood sometimes.
But if you didn’t want him reading it, he wouldn’t be here. If you didn’t trust him, he wouldn’t be here.
Like all artists, the words you spilled onto paper held a piece of you. You bore your soul to him in moments like these, open and vulnerable. It was similar to whenever you let him dress you up, to tailor his pieces while on you, to ask your opinion. He trusted you to not take his heart and crush it into nothing.
Groggy, but not completely out of it, Hongjoong mumbled, “Can you work with me here like this?” Just to make sure.
Your reply surprised him. “It’s the only way I can work,” you said. It was unconscious, like instinct, like you didn’t even have to think about it—the words had been waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to leap into his ears and make his heart quicken.
It gave a warm shock of electricity from his chest and down his spine and to his toes. It felt… good. It felt so, so good.
He smiled against your shoulder even with his cheek smooshed against it. He closed his eyes, arms wrapping loosely around yours. The pale light and dull clicking rocked him to sleep.
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— part four: i’m here to stay, i’ll find a way, i know it hurts
It had taken less than five seconds of entering the bedroom that your nostrils burned with the smell of bleach. There was a heavy techno track thumping in the background originating from the speaker set on Hongjoong’s workstation out in the living space. Hongjoong himself was situated in the bathroom, the white light from the LED bulbs over the mirror illuminating the strands of his hair that had been smothered in a periwinkle mixture, the hair beneath already lightening to platinum blond.
Hongjoong caught your wide doe eyes in the mirror, tongue caught between his grinning teeth. “Hi, doll. What’d'ya think?”
You had left your book bag out by your desk and you now stepped back out into the bedroom to peel your jacket off and roll up the sleeves of your shirt. “What do I think?” You echoed. When you returned to the bathroom, you crouched down to tug out a pair of latex gloves from one of the drawers beneath the sink. “I think you need help with the back.”
“That’s my girl,” he mused.
You snapped on the gloves, leaning over to him. He turned his face—met your lips with his. You dipped your fingers into the little bleach concoction in the black plastic bowl on the counter and began carefully rubbing it into the dark bits at the back of his head. “You got a haircut today,” you said offhandedly, noting his shaved sides.
“Are you not gonna ask what sparked this sudden hair change?” He chuckled. “Are you not at all curious?”
“Are you not worried about me not liking it?” You raised your eyebrows at him in the mirror, a teasing smile on your lips.
He loosed a flippant sound from the back of his throat. “I wasn’t that worried about you not liking it.” He lost his gloves, tossing them in the trash, observing your movements in the mirror while you finished off the bleach job.
You threaded your fingers through the locks of hair at the top of his head, combing them back. “Not that you asked, but I think it looks very handsome.”
A smile curled at the corners of his lips, and you could never miss that brush of red on his cheekbones. “I’ll always ask what you think.” He sighed, tapping his phone screen to start a timer, “Woo Hyuckjae said he thought a hair change would suit me. Something like blond.”
When your gloves were disposed of, Hongjoong slung an arm around your shoulders and the both of you made your way out of the bathroom and into the main living space. “Is that right? I mean… as long as you wanted to change your hair, y'know?”
Woo Hyuckjae was the man Hongjoong had been interning and apprenticing under for the past month. Your partner looked up to Mr. Woo as if he was a star in the sky, and he believed that if he could prove himself to Woo Hyuckjae, he’d get to his goal in no time. You’d met Mr. Woo once when Hongjoong had asked if you could come to dinner with him and meet his boss.
Suffice to say, you were glad that Hyuckjae wasn’t your boss. (God, you had never faked a smile or a laugh so hard in your life. There was something in the way Woo Hyuckjae’s eyes had looked at you that made your skin crawl. He was a fashion genius… but if you only met and saw him once more in your life, that would be one time too many.)
You snuck a glance at Hongjoong, your hand reaching up to your collar where the chain link choker rested. Your fingers fiddled with the pendant. “As long as you did it out of your own accord, Joong,” you emphasized.
“Of course.”
“Okay,” you bobbed your head in acknowledgement. That was all you wished for. As long as it was Hongjoong’s decision, then you would stand by it. Plus, you had a feeling he’d look damn good as a blond.
—  ✶
“This one.” Hongjoong’s low murmur blessed your ears as he came up behind you and rested a heavy, warm coat over your shoulders. It was a slightly oversized shacket made mainly of a muted taupe, striped with a plaid pattern of other shades of brown. He adjusted the collar of your white turtleneck so the collar could rest above the shirt fabric.
“Thanks,” you said back. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket, rocking on your heels. The two of you stood side by side in the frame of the full body mirror as finishing touches were applied to your outfits for this week’s outing with the friend group. Tonight, it was supposedly a rooftop bar a little ways from the university, so you and Hongjoong thought it best to dress warm.
Well, you thought it best to dress warm. Joong was simply trying to make sure you both looked good while doing so.
He had fitted a black beanie over his tuft of blond hair; you thought it matched with the leather jacket and dark pants. His silver collar gleamed like diamonds in the low light of the bedroom against his dark blue sweater. He met your eyes in the mirror. “Sorry, give me a couple minutes, doll. Gotta find something before we leave.”
“Sure, take your time, love.” In the meantime, you busied yourself with gathering things to throw into your purse for your night out. You stared at the new miniature first aid kit sitting on the kitchen counter, then tucked it into your bag. You’d learned that you could never be too careful when it came to yours and Hongjoong’s friends.
Once you’d deemed yourself prepared, you considered the rack of shoes by the door. Out of the time since you had met Hongjoong, you could say that your sense for fashion had improved… to an extent. As you stared at your options, you opted for a pair of neutral toned sneakers (a pair of chunky ones Hongjoong had encouraged you to purchase during a store’s massive online sale). You figured these would be fashionable enough, but comfortable. It wasn’t like you were going into the office anyway—
“Babe, have you seen my sketchbook?”
Your head perked up. “Isn’t it on your desk?”
“The new one, not the old one,” he clarified. Hongjoong poked his head out of the bedroom, and there was a frown on his face. “I wanted to show Hwa some of my new designs tonight, but I can’t find that damn thing anywhere.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he came out of the bedroom and made his way toward you.
“Maybe you left it at the office,” you suggested, nudging his favorite pair of black boots toward him with your foot.
He hummed. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” He knelt down and began lacing up his shoe, to which you bent down with him to help him with the other one.
When you’d finished your little bow, you tapped the toe of his boot. “So you don’t fall for someone else.”
Hongjoong exploded into giggles and playfully hit your shoulder. “God, I love you. You’re stupid if you think I could ever fall for someone else, but I love you.”
“We share one brain cell now,” you mused as the two of you made your way out of the apartment, “so it’s not like you can get rid of me.”
“We share one?”
“Yeah, and I clearly have it today.”
His eyebrows flew up. “Oh, is that so?”
You saw the gleam in the dim light of the hallway, and your instincts had you backing up from him. Your heartbeat skipped. “Hongjoong, I can’t run in these shoes…” (As ironic as that was; you hated how heavy these clunky things were.)
“It’s a good thing I can run in these—yah! Get back here, Yn!”
Yours and Hongjoong’s laughter echoed loudly in the corridor as he chased you down the stairwell, out into the street, until you were caught in his arms. You squealed when you felt his toned arms cage you against him, wrestling you to a stop on the sidewalk.
The night was young, and though faint, stars glimmered like crystal beads sewn into the ebony silk of the sky. The cold nipped at your nose and your cheeks, but walking in Hongjoong’s embrace, his heat radiating from him, kept you warm.
Your phone’s ringtone sliced through the night air, and you tugged your phone out of your pocket. “Hello?”
Your coworker Minju’s voice raced at a million words a minute as she panicked into your ear, yet for some reason, you could comprehend every word of it. You’d stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk now, and Hongjoong had stopped with you, watching and waiting for news. His brow furrowed at the exasperation and the disbelief stark on your face. Your hand had even come up to fidget with that key charm.
“Okay,” you finally said, coming to a decision. You glanced at Joong, and he mouthed a question to you. Everything okay? You shook your head, lips pursed. “Okay, Minju, I’ll meet you at your place. I was on my way somewhere so I don’t have my laptop, but—yeah, thank you… okay, I’ll see you in fifteen. Bye, hon.”
You sighed as you ended the call. “So…”
Hongjoong looked at you expectantly. “Work emergency?”
With a wince, you nodded. “I’m sorry, Joong, but the CE literally just sprung this on us and we’re both kinda fucked if we don’t finish this tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it; really, doll.” Hongjoong held you by your arms, eyes and words sincere. “Plus, you’re only missing one gathering. There’ll be plenty after this.”
Your shoulders slumped. “Thank you,” you said. For understanding. For reassuring me. “You’ll have to apologize to the others for me.”
His chuckle rang warm down your spine and made a smile split your face. Hongjoong wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hand rubbing your arm as you both walked toward the nearby metro station. “Now that is something you’ll have to owe me for. D'you know how much of a fit Mingi’s gonna throw when he finds out you’re not gonna make it?”
You laughed, head resting against his shoulder. “I’ll figure out a way to pay you back.”
“I have some ideas,” Hongjoong sang with that familiar twinkle in his eyes.
You rolled your eyes, but you knew you’d hear him out later. For now, you focused on the task you had ahead of you, rather than a blissful night with friends. If only you’d known that tonight wouldn’t be so spectacular for either of you.
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— part five: everything i’ve ever wanted, everything i need
It had taken about five seconds of you clambering into the darkness of your apartment—keys clinking against the key bowl, shoes thunking against the floor, sigh falling from your lips—for you to realize something was wrong. More wrong than the report you and Minju had bullshitted tonight that could cost both of you your jobs. More wrong than the headache pulsing in your temples like a construction site.
Your eyes flickered to the pair of black boots dumped onto the shoe rack as you tore your clunky shoes off. You could have sworn you heard something… “Joong?” You called out into the dark.
There was no answer, but you definitely weren’t dreaming when you heard the sniffling and the labored breathing.
Your heart leapt into your throat, mind running haywire as you practically dove into the bedroom, narrowly missing the doorjamb with your shoulder.
You found Hongjoong in the corner of the room, knees hugged tightly to his chest, tear tracks glistening down his face. He rocked himself back and forth, not in a calm, soothing manner, but rather, something equivalent to a knee bouncing up and down. His eyes were wide and red, staring at nothing at all. He sounded like he was choking on oxygen, like—like—
You fell to your knees before him. “Joong—Hongjoong—”
He shook his head. He opened his mouth, a sob tearing through his body so harshly that you thought he might break. “He—he—he,” he croaked, trying to find his voice, but ultimately struggling to breathe again. “I can’t breathe—”
“Hongjoong,” you said once more and moved your body so you were in his direct line of sight. You raised your hands, palms to him. “I need you to count to ten with me. Is that okay?”
His bottom lip quivered, but he nodded.
“One… two…” And the two of you made it all the way to ten together. His breathing had steadied only slightly, and it broke your heart to see him in such a state.
Before you could ask, Hongjoong rasped, “He stole them. He stole them all, Yn. He stole all—he stole all my work.”
Your heart fell into your stomach.
You didn’t want to ask for clarification, but “What?” slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
Hoongjoong stared at nothing again. “He stole my sketchbook. He stole my designs. He posted them as his own. I'm—I can’t do jack shit about it.” And he was choking again, dry gagging on the mere thought of never seeing his dreams realized, of seeing them crumpled up in the fist of a man he used to idolize.
Disgust had bile climbing up your throat and you swallowed harshly. Tears prickled at your vision, and you swiped at your eyes. “Oh fuck, I'm—” God, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t do anything but be here for you. “What can I do to help you? What do you need, love?”
“I can’t breathe,” he sobbed, body quaking, trembling, falling to pieces. “Help me,” he begged, “hold me. Please.”
You settled yourself against the wall next to him and opened your arms, without question, without hesitating, without wasting a second. He collapsed against your body and drenched your clothes in his grief. You held him close and tight, wishing it would be enough to make everything better. Even if you knew it wasn’t.
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— part six: i’ll go through hell to make it work
It had taken you about five seconds of walking into Park Seonghwa and Jeong Yunho’s apartment to know that shit was going down. Seonghwa greeted you at the door with a quiet, sad smile. He let you in and led you to the kitchen where he would explain to you what was happening in the living room.
You could even hear them: Yunho and San were helping Hongjoong wage war.
“How are you, Yn-ie?” Seonghwa asked lowly, leaning back against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in his hands, facing you.
That was the question of the hour, wasn’t it? It had been about two or so weeks since Hongjoong had quit his internship after he discovered his boss and ex-idol stole the designs straight out of his sketchbook with no credit given. Woo Hyuckjae was just as slimy and sleazy as he seemed—part of you wished you had spoken your mind about him sooner. Could all of this have been prevented? All of the sleepless nights, the crying, the panic attacks? Could Hongjoong’s heartbreak have been prevented had you just told him you didn’t feel comfortable about his former boss?
It ate you up inside, twisted your guts, squeezed your heart in this vice-like grip. Was this partly your fault?
But even as you expressed these concerns to Seonghwa, he always gave you the same answer: that no, it wasn’t your fault. Not in the slightest. Because no one but Woo Hyuckjae was to blame for this.
“I could be better,” you answered with a half-hearted shrug. “Joong’s just been… I guess it’s better that he’s speaking now.”
And for the first week, he hadn’t spoken at all. He’d stayed in bed almost all day, every day. You’d try to coax him to get up and watch a movie with you in the living room, but would ultimately take your laptop to bed with you so he could hold your hand while he slept and you worked.
It absolutely swallowed you whole to see him like this.
“He’s in his anger stage,” Seonghwa said as if that explained it. “Like the stages of grief, kind of thing. He’s meticulous when he’s ticked off. Very rarely does he blow up at people.”
You could attest to that. You rarely saw Hongjoong pissed—annoyed, maybe—but never pissed. The last time you’d seen him remotely mad or ticked off was when this retail worker kept ignoring you when you were asking about a fitting room. He hadn’t blown up, but had been like a quiet storm—deadly calm, and terribly patient. He was like a tiger, crouched in the tall, leafy grass, stalking an unsuspecting antelope. He would only pounce when the time was right; he was dangerous, in that way, when he was mad.
You swallowed, then scratched the side of your neck. “Did they find a loophole yet?” You asked, hope squeezing through the cracks of your voice. It had been a rough few weeks.
Seonghwa shook his head. “When they do find one, they’ll exploit it as thoroughly as possible.”
Yunho and San were both English majors, both of whom also hoped to continue their education in law school. Yunho had offered to help Hongjoong in the way he best could—through his connections at the law firm he was currently interning at. San didn’t have an internship at a law firm, but he had sharp eyes and an even sharper mind. It would be good for finding a loophole in the contract Joong had signed with his former employer. They had been at it for almost a week, about the same amount of time it had been since Hongjoong emerged from his slump one day.
And you? Well, that last minute report had reverberated up the chain, and you and Minju were struggling to keep your footing and position in the company as possible head editors. One mistake of miscommunication, that hadn’t even been either of your faults in the first place, had rocked your chances at a career so hard that you were still reeling from it two weeks later. You were still in the running, but you liked to think it was only by a thread.
It had been a rough few weeks.
“Woosan just texted and let me know they’re grabbing pizza with the others,” you said with a vague gesture to the phone you just took out of your pocket. “Is it cool if they bring it here?”
Seonghwa nodded, yawning. “Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll probably just grab a slice and head out.”
His head perked up faster than the coffee could wake him up. “You’re gonna leave? Why don’t you stay—”
You shook your head, already itching to get back to the office. “I have a lot to make up.” My reputation, especially. “I’ll say hi to Joong and everyone and take a slice.”
“You’ve been working a lot too, Yn-ie.” Seonghwa’s voice was soft as he set his mug on the counter, folded his arms over his chest, and regarded you with a concerned frown. “As much as we’re worried about Hongjoong, we’ve been just as worried about you, too.”
And that sentiment in itself was enough to boost your spirits, if only for a moment of happiness. It was nice to know that they noticed. Your smile was small, but it was present through your eyes. “Thank you for worrying, but you don’t need to worry too much. I can take care of myself, Hwa.”
“You can lean on us, too. Even Hongjoong, no matter what state he’s in, he’s gonna be there for you.”
“I know,” you reassured him. You adjusted the bag on your shoulder, already turning to the doorway to the living area. “Thank you though, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa’s smile was soft, his nod barely noticeable. But you were already making your presence known to the conspirators in the living room, and as you leaned down to press a kiss to your lover’s cheek, it was impossible to miss the loving twinkle in his eyes.
—  ✶
Rain pelted your hooded head as you made a mad dash for the apartment complex from the taxi car. The sky had up and opened its dark gray skies and let hell rain down upon the earth. If it had been a more mild downpour, you could have stomached the walk from the metro stop to the complex, but with the showers… no, there was no way.
You flung yourself into the apartment lobby, hand swiping your hood off and wiping the rainwater from your eyes. You reached for the elevator button and jammed it with your thumb a few times before reaching for your phone. You wondered if Hongjoong was home yet—he was definitely home, right? It was a Thursday, and he didn’t have afternoon classes on Thursdays. He usually didn’t go out on days like these either—
The elevator doors slid open and you nearly crashed into Hongjoong himself. Both yours and his eyes widened in surprise, and a laugh fell from your lips.
“Hey, I was just about to text you,” you said as he stepped out of the elevator. You noted the coat he had on and an umbrella tucked under his arm. There was a noticeable dropping feeling in your stomach that you recognized as disappointment.
He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your mouth. “I was just about to call you and say I won’t be home for dinner. Yunho wanted to go over something with me and his superior. I’m headed to the firm now.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll start dinner later then.” You hoped that would entice him to come back early. Another few days had passed, adding onto Hongjoong’s running plan to take back his designs, or at least, expose his former boss. He had become much livelier lately, and you had begun to see a lot more of his older self shone through. No longer was there incredible amounts of melancholy or anger. There were still moments, obviously; it would take him some time, and you were willing to wait as long as it took.
Hongjoong shook his head, lips pursed. He was already walking away. “Don’t wait up, doll! You’ve worked hard today, so don’t worry about me. I’ll be back for bedtime.”
You watched as he left the way you had come in. He’d thrown the hood over his frazzled blond hair and braced for the gust of wind and rain firing down upon him. When the door smacked closed behind him, you sighed and jammed the up button one more time. You supposed a bit of quiet would do you some good.
—  ✶
It wasn’t the first night that Hongjoong didn’t even come home. Another week had gone by, and you believed you’d forgotten what Hongjoong sounded like at this point. You hadn’t seen him in what felt like days, but the reality was that you and him only caught glimpses of each other: run-ins of you coming into the apartment and him hurrying out, those few moments you were both at the apartment together, feeling his body warmth leave your side in the early mornings. He would leave in the opposite direction you went toward the metro, since the law firm and his new, makeshift office was in the more high society end of downtown.
You were hunched over your laptop at your desk when you heard the distinct clicking of the apartment lock. You glanced over your shoulder briefly as the door yawned open, then took a peek at the time—Jesus, it was already two in the morning. You dug the heel of your hand into your eye to rub the sleep away; there still so much to do, especially with that fourth year thesis deadline approaching and looming over your shoulder.
The shadow currently looming over your shoulder, however, stole a peek at your computer screen. “You’ve been at that same paragraph for hours now, haven’t you?” Came Yeosang’s soft murmur. It was no longer teasing like he would on previous occasions, but rather exasperated, tired, or worried even.
Yeah, writer’s block was an ass. And you felt like one, too, for Yeosang’s being awake so late because of you.
“Mhm,” you hummed with a deep exhale. You anxiously reached for the key charm at your clavicle. “You can crash on my bed. I probably won’t go to sleep for a while.”
“The point of me checking up on you is to get you to sleep now, y'know,” he said with a yawn. He leaned over the back of your chair and propped his chin on top of your head. You swallowed; a wave of déjà vu washed over you. Your chest ached and your throat closed in on itself—you missed him so much.
You brought both of your hands to your face now as if you could scrub away the negative things in your life, or maybe just the drowsiness. “What am I doing, Yeo? Like, seriously. What am I doing?”
He straightened and his warm hands came to your shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. “You’re working too hard, just like your boyfriend. One of you has to have self-control, Yn-ie. And I think you have a little more sense than hyung right now.”
He gave your shoulder another squeeze, and he walked away toward the bedroom. “Come on! If I have to wait, your pillow’s gonna be warm.”
“You sadist, Kang Yeosang,” you huffed after him. You looked at your computer screen again—the blinking cursor, the blank page remaining. You shut the lid of the screen and padded after Yeosang.
Yeosang idly scratched his chest as he stood next to your bed, watching as you collapsed into the sea of cool blankets and sheets. He didn’t bother climbing in, but rather, sat down next to you on your side and leaving Hongjoong’s side untouched (as it had been). He set his palm on your forehead, then gently patted your head. “Feel better?”
You nodded. Your eyelids were already falling like rain. “Yeah. Thanks, Yeo.”
He hummed, and the room was quiet for a moment. You thought he was waiting for you to fall asleep before leaving, but you heard him say, “Just call him, Yn. Call him and tell him you miss him.”
“He’s busy.”
“He’s never too busy for you,” he countered. “Surprise him with lunch or something then.” You didn’t say anything, and he sighed like he knew what you were thinking. “You’re stupid if you think you’re a bother, and he’s stupid if he thinks you are a bother. If.”
The bed lifted as he stood up to turn off the lights. “Call him, Yn. Good night.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the covers up to your chin and wishing the bed next to you was filled. “Good night.”
—  ✶
The high part of downtown was a windy place like the streets were made for a live runway show. You had tied your hair back in an attorney to beat the breeze, but the rest of your jacket was flying behind you. You’d luckily opted for your backpack today rather than your tote, so your belongings were strapped to your back.
You were presently on the way to Hongjoong’s little studio. Hongjoong had given you the address awhile ago, but with all of the chaos recently, you hadn’t found the time to go see it. According to San though, it was still a mess of boxes and plastic—he also had little time to decorate—but there was apparently a kitchenette and bathroom. He could live there if he wanted to… as he practically did at this point.
You dug your phone out of your pocket when you heard the ringtone go off. “Yunho, hey! I’m actually on my way over right now.”
“Oh, thank God, Yn.” He sounded frazzled, the way the words spilled from his mouth like alphabet soup. “How far out are you?”
“Uhm, a couple blocks,” you estimated and squinted up the road. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“It’s Hongjoong. He—”
Your mind flew to the worst possible scenarios. It had been several weeks since that night, but maybe you should have paid closer attention to him. He had been getting better, had been returning to his old self… but perhaps he was relapsing, and it was breaking your heart all over again. “Give me five minutes,” you said with resolution, then hung up and hightailed it all the way up the street.
There were probably people on the street looking at you strangely, but you could hardly care as the wind and your heartbeat thundered in your ears. Memories of that night echoed in your mind, and you could hear his heart wrenching sobs again.
When you arrived at the complex, San was stationed by the lobby door and escorted you up the elevator. You barely took in the lobby as you swiftly passed by the front desk, and ascended to the third floor. Even San was nervous—his finger tapping against his arm and his teeth chewing the inside of his cheek.
“He wanted to dye his hair back to black,” San explained to you quietly as you both stepped out of the elevator. “But he had, uhm, this meltdown. I don’t even know what triggered it, but—” he pushed out a rough exhale, “I don’t even know, Yn-ie. I really don’t know.”
One of the doors in the corridor exploded open as Yunho yanked it open and beckoned you inside. His shoulders visibly relaxed at the sight of you. “Yn, thank God. He’s not listening to either of us. I don't—I don’t know how to help him.”
“Where is he?” You asked, already scanning the surroundings for Hongjoong.
“The bathroom.”
You were directed to a small doorway to the side, and you set your bag on the ground against the wall. Slowly and quietly, you peered into the bathroom.
Hongjoong was hunched over the bathroom sink with his hands braced on the counter top. His hands were stained in ink black dye, coloring the white marble counter like blood. A discarded bottle of black hair dye sat next to his right hand, along with a pair of latex gloves that hadn’t even been used. It seemed he had been halfway through the dye job with half his head dyed black, when something had happened to trigger this—this quiet.
Unlike last time, he was not crying uncontrollably, but deadly silent. He stared into the negative space of the empty sink bowl, tear tracks dried on the slopes of his cheeks. But you saw the way his body shook underneath it all. He trembled, an earthquake of bottled emotional wreckage having bided its time long enough. The past few weeks… he had been hiding it all this time.
“Hongjoong-ah,” you murmured to test the waters.
He said nothing yet, but his bottom lip trembled.
You slowly and delicately wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, then pressed your cheek against his back. “Talk to me, my love.”
A sob broke from his mouth and your chest ached.
You gave him a reassuring squeeze when you felt your own eyes prickle with tears. “I love you,” you rasped. “I missed you a lot. I missed you so much.”
“I’m so sorry, Yn,” he croaked. “I’m so, so sorry. I—” He desperately sucked in a breath of air, “I should have gone home.”
“You had things you needed to do; I understand,” you told him. “You can come home when you’re ready.”
And as you held him in your arms once more, with those words echoing in the space about you both, Hongjoong cried and cried and cried.
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— part seven: i’m happy for you
It took only about five seconds of blinking and squinting for Hongjoong to get accustomed to the warm light of the living room lamp. His eyes were red and dry and puffy from breaking down earlier again, but the brief bit of sleep had been nice, for once. Sleeping in his own bed felt like heaven, but he was still missing you.
It was probably around four in the morning by now, a number he wasn’t surprised to see. But you were there on the couch again, laptop propped on your lap and eyes zoned into the words you poured onto your canvas. Hongjoong rubbed his eyes, scratched his chest, waddled over toward you with grogginess contorting his face into a pouty frown.
You glanced up from your screen for a second and he saw the ghost of a smile on your lips.
He curled up next to you, and you scooped him under your arm. He felt your hand run through his hair as you set your laptop aside and gently guided his head to your warm lap. “Missed you,” he exhaled, voice barely audible.
“I’m sorry; I’ll be there soon,” you said back. “The hair looks good, bug.”
After you had helped clean him up at the office, it had become a silent decision between the two of you to keep his hair half black and half blond. There was something about the combination that struck you, but he couldn’t see it yet. All he could see were two halves of himself—one that had been blinded by naivety and ambition, and one scorned by those two very things. But perhaps those two halves were what made him whole. He just couldn’t see it yet.
“You look good,” he murmured back. His eyes were glazed and half lidded as he gazed up at you. He couldn’t imagine how he’d gone so long avoiding you and the apartment. How had he abstained from the allure of home for so long? He remembered the moment he had crossed the threshold of the apartment, weeping in your arms, and your scent was everywhere around him, embracing him even while you weren’t right next to him.
He felt safe here.
“I’m sorry for neglecting you,” he suddenly croaked. His eyes were already dampening again, stinging. “I’m sorry I was so far all the time.”
You leaned down to cradle him, and his nose went to your neck. His lungs were filling with you again, but he didn’t want to breathe in anything else. “Don’t apologize, Hongjoong. You don’t need to apologize to me; I wasn’t much better. You were doing it for you, and I just want you to be happy.”
His arms came around you and held on for dear life. “I’m not happy—I wasn’t happy, doll. I was so… I was so angry.”
“At him?”
“At myself,” he said, “for letting that happen, for not seeing it before it could happen. I’m just…” disappointed.
“You couldn’t have known, love,” you reassured him. He felt the featherweight of your lips on his head, a kiss from an angel. “You were just following your dreams.”
His heartbeat was rapid, but his breathing was steady for the first time in weeks. He wondered if he could immortalize this moment, so he would feel nothing but your love, all the time. No more pain, no more anger. “And now look at me. Huh.”
He closed his eyes for a moment in the silence. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“Don’t be like that, Joong.”
“No, I mean—” he felt your eyes on him again and he was back on the pillow of your lap, “—how’d I get so lucky with finding someone like you? Who decided to make me walk into that store that day? Who decided to give me the courage to give you fashion advice? Who decided to let me meet the woman of my dreams?”
His eyes fluttered open, and he saw the silver lining your eyes.
“We might never know, but I’m lucky to have met you, too,” you said.
“Even with all the trouble I am?” Hongjoong closed his eyes again as you pressed kisses to his eyelids.
“That’s the best part,” you mused. “But you’re no trouble, Joong. You are no burden, no problem, no ball and chain. You’re just—” Your mind went fuzzy and you couldn’t find the energy to be elegant at four in the morning, “—mine, y'know?”
He giggled. “I’m yours.”
You hummed. “You are mine to hold, cherish, love. I’m here to encourage you and help you and… I—well, I’m just going to support you. Because I want to, not that I’m obligated to or anything.”
Hongjoong peered up at you again, and he wished he could say all the things brewing in his mind, but he couldn’t find the right words to string together. You’d taken all that he had ever wanted and given it to him on a gold platter like it was nothing, as if it didn’t make his heart skip about five beats in a row or want to make him stay in this bubble with you forever.
How’d he get so lucky?
“I love you,” he rasped as he extended his arm up to cup your face in his hand. “And I’ll love you and stand by you in all your endeavors.”
You turned your face slightly to kiss his palm. “Forever?”
“Forever.”
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a/n: might write an epilogue at some point, but hope you enjoyed <3 pls do rb, comment, and send asks !! tysm x
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pianocat939 · 1 year
Note
Okay so I like really like your writing style and I would like to make a request!!
Can we see the boys with a reader that had drastic changes in temperature really easily? Like one second they’re burning alive and then the next their bundled in blankets.
Thank you in advance if you write this!!!
-👻
As someone who lives in a place where it's winter literally 7-8 whole months, I totally do not get this *cue awkward smile*. So most of the stuff written here is geared towards winter.
I split this into parts because I felt there can be both platonic and romantic reactions to this.
The Turtles with a Temperature Vulnerable MC
(There isn't much of a difference between romantic and platonic for Mikey + Raph. It's more for Leo and D'Nello)
Raph
- Platonic
Sorry guys I have to go back to his trauma again.
He worries a lot. It's obvious considering his Eldest Child Syndrome™
So much so that he carries around a bag filled with jackets/layers, ice packs, fans: and all that stuff when you guys leave either of your homes.
He tries to keep the temperature indoors as mild as possible, but it can get hard during the summer and winter months (winter especially 'cuz he's a reptile).
Will ask if you want hugs whenever you're cold. He may be a reptile, but I think he retains some warm-blooded traits from Splinter.
Learns how drinks are a great way to regulate temperature and asks Mikey to teach him how to make delicious beverages.
During winter he doesn't let you out until you have a coat and a light jacket on (trust me you get hot in winter coats really fucking easy).
"Nope. Not letting you out until you have them layers on."
Worried parent 1000%
- Romantic
Not too different from platonic, just more prone to be touchy.
Holds your hand(s) and cuddles if you if you're cold. And also because he's a cuddlebug.
He gets really pouty if you have to separate because you're too hot.
"If I were to cover myself in ice packs will you cuddle me?"
Leo
- Platonic
He will laugh whenever you have to change your surroundings/position because of temperature issues.
He might try to piss you off by stealing all the blankets or turning the heater/cooler to insane settings.
"Um, excuse me, I need all of these."
If he feels nice, on some days he'll hand you the things you need directly; might even teleport steal extra machinery for you.
Honestly, I think he would relate to your problem, but be the biggest drama queen about it. Like complaining extremely loudly.
Flaunts the number of blankets he has.
- Romantic
Is less snarky, but can be a little bug sometimes.
I think if we're speaking in a romantic sense he's more likely to expose his true feelings/intentions. I know it's not explicitly stated within the canon series/movie but based on my own interpretation I think he doesn't like exposing his feelings unless he really trusts that person.
So he'll express worry in a more intimate way.
He won't be all mama bear like Raph but does show some concern. He'll ask if you're alright and if you need he'll bring it right to you.
As I said before I do think he has a similar problem so he'll suggest you guys share a blanket or something to conserve as much heat.
"As soon as you get out I'm not letting you back in. This is my heat reserve."
Othello Von Ryan
- Platonic
Out of the three has the best assistance for temperature regulation.
He can easily construct a device that changes surrounding heat based on blood and heartbeat regulation.
He's iffy when it comes to helping you out that isn't biology or just in general science related. It's not that he doesn't understand it, he finds it inefficient that's all.
"Why waste time doing things that could maybe help when you know that the studies of science are more credible?"
No touch. Maybe robot arms with heating, but no actual touchy.
It's hot? Don't worry he got his beautiful ice maker in his battle shell.
He does not stand for complaining. Just tell him you're uncomfortable and he can fix it.
- Romantic
In a romantic sense, I think he's more likely to try to help in a non-scientific way. Again, it's not his preferred method but it can also be a data-collecting experience for him.
He'll ask more questions, trying to understand your individual biology.
"Is there a certain time interval when you feel you're personal comfort change?"
He really doesn't like it but if you need it very badly then he might give you a stiff hug or two. Awkward back pat gang
If you spend time in the lab with him then he'll make sure the environment is to your liking.
Asks Sheldon to watch over you if he's not able to be there at the moment.
I totally see him as a trench coat guy. Gifts you a matching one.
Mikey Wazowski
- Platonic + Romantic
Quite similar to Raph but has some distinct traits.
Will go overboard with everything because he's not entirely sure what you exactly need. Ex. 4-5 blankets or more than enough electric fans
Found frozen foods and used them in replace of ice packs once.
"I'm gonna find who stole them all because I am disgusted at myself right now!"
Uses his culinary skills as an advantage. Is it 3 star Michelin course shit? Indeed it is.
"I present to you my Ganache hot chocolate~"
He absolutely loves physical touch so keep that in mind. You'll have to pry him off you if you get hot though.
Donnie has to teach him how the thermostat works (it's not hard, he's just never used it before).
If you're ever under a blanket he'll try jumping on you.
(Sorry Mikey's is short I'm pulling all my brain cells trying to think of any possible ways)
——————————————————
I tried. I really tried.
Also, I don't ever want to call Mikey "Mikey" ever again. He's "Mikey Wazowski" now.
- Celina
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pomplalamoose · 5 months
Note
Heyy!! Whenever you have the time could we please get some hoth luke and SO hc’s??💗
I had sooo much fun with this and as always thank you for your ask, anon! I hope you like it as much as I do <33
To all the other lovely people who sent me asks: I will do my best to answer them as soon as I can, though please be patient with me because my next few days will be very busy :(
• going forward we will just ignore the fact that the Rebellion doesn't stay on Hoth for long, that Luke gets kidnapped and nearly eaten and then simply disappears after the Empire's attack
• because this planet has the absolute best requirements for a romantic setting 
• I mean we have an icy climate, cramped accomodations and relatively high spirits among the people 
• the Empire is momentarily defeated, the Death Star destroyed and the Rebellion has found a new base
• nobody can tell me there aren't hook ups happening and relationships emerging all over the place
• if Luke and you weren't familiar with each other before, now is the chance to get to know him
• if one or both of you were already interested, now is the time to make a move
• and I'm sure Luke will
• he's head strong and straight forward and nobody knows when the Empire will discover your hiding place 
• neither of you have much time so if he sees a chance, he'll take it 
• (see also my ESB Luke headcanons)
• I haven't quite made up my mind on how he would approach you but I have some ideas
• maybe he offers to show you his X-Wing or the Falcon 
• I'm not sure if Han would agree with that though but Luke doesn't really care, he has a very pretty person to impress and will sneak you on board if he has to
• it's hard for everyone on Hoth but especially for Luke who grew up on a desert planet 
• of course it's cold in space too and I'm sure it took some time for him to get used to that as well but this current situation is a different level 
• I see him awkwardly waiting nearby for a chance to engage you in conversation about the weather 
• (cut him some slack, he's still practicing his flirting skills)
• if you so much as shiver he jumps at the opportunity to take off his jacket and wrap it around your shoulders to be close to you, even if it's just for a little moment 
• he thinks he's so smooth with it too
• when he bends towards you he's hit with your lovely smell and frantically tries to come up with a plan to get to know you further
• suddenly he wants nothing more than to bury his nose in your hair or in the crook of your neck 
• he also makes a mental note for later to ask what kind of perfume you're wearing/ which shampoo you use so he can get it for you as a present
• (in his mind you're basically married already)
• he'll realize then, that offering his clothes was a stupid idea because now HE'S even colder 
• he refuses to say a single word about it though 
• (he can't just take it back like that, not now when you just started to develope some color in your cheeks!)
• until his lips turn blue and his jaw hurts from keeping his teeth from chattering 
• only when you ask him if he's okay, will he suddenly "remember" how cold it is and then invite you to have a hot beverage (I'd like to say tea but I don't know if they have tea) with him 
• if he's feeling especially bold he'll invite you to his room 
• maybe, when he's in a rowdy mood and a little adventurous, he'll tease you a bit (a lot)
• never to a point where you get overly annoyed or your feelings hurt, it's always obvious he took a liking to you and wants your attention 
• however he immensely enjoys when you call out his name in a frustrated manner in your clear voice or swat his hand away
• because then there's always a chance he can intertwine your fingers and hold your hand until you give him a look™ and he laughingly withdraws 
• strategically he'll find out what gets the highest rise out of you and then shamelessly exploits it 
• I see him sneaking up on you from behind and all of a sudden slinging his arms around your waist to lift you up and spin you around
• sometimes he waits around a corner and then jumps at you when you go past
• he makes sure to sit next to you during meals or other gatherings so he can poke your nose/forehead with his finger 
• he likes to gently squeeze your cheeks 
• a personal favorite of his is sitting behind you and then lightly pulling your hair until you whip around indignantly  
• (your anger immediately deflates when you see the way he's beaming at you)
• because of this he loves it when you wear a ponytail or a simple braid down your back
• he's definitely one to return from the outside with ice cold hands and then go looking for you to touch them to your neck
• he'll throw snowballs at you to start a snowball fight and nobody can convince me otherwise 
• sometimes it works and he uses the opportunity to come close enough for a potential kiss 
• and, if the situation is fitting and you are both giddy with laughter, he'll press a quick and breathless peck to your cheek 
Also have some quick little extra headcanons and ideas:
• Luke asks about snow on your home planet and you tell him about snowmen
• he's immediately on board to build one (or several) with you 
• imagine introducing him to making a snow angel 
• you take many stupid pictures together, one depicting you and Luke both wearing his jacket, with your back to his chest and the zipper shut tightly over your front
• (your feet hover in the air because he's so much taller than you)
• he'd lend you his hat and then make fun of you for it being way too big
• Luke is that person that complains about getting in the shower when it's cold outside and once he gets over it he doesn't want to leave anymore 
• his feet and nose are always cold on Hoth which makes sharing a bed with him less cozy than it would be normally
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chancematter · 1 year
Text
Ok so maybe I invented a gravity falls au.
Long story short, my brain said “Dipple and Maber” instead of the niblings and, while I’m not going to name them that because that’s stupid, I started wondering what would happen if I shuffled things around. Also, I don’t know what to do with Fiddleford so if anyone has ideas, let me hear them please.
This is swap!gravity falls. Including my art, which is mid (except dipper that’s a good dipper)
TLDR main swaps are Dipper/Mabel, Ford/Stan, and Wendy/Soos
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M’sorry if the formatting is weird I did this in my notes app~
Dipper = sweater vests, braces, fashion, confidence, unicorns
Mabel = collared jacket, hat, nerves, brains, science
Soos = lesbian badass with a motorcycle and lots of knives. She’s just here cause it’s a decent job, and she only steps in when needed, but she is very protective of the kids.
Wendell = Dedicated & loyal teen who always does his best but he’s a little stupid. Also he has daddy issues. Crush-crazy bi dipper falls in love with Wendell. Wendell’s teen group is the outcasts, but in a very nerdy losery way. This includes Robin the band geek, Timmy the programmer, Kate and Bee the chess players, and Tabitha who could probably be cool and popular if she wanted.
Candy & Grenda = swapped, so little skinny candy does martial arts and big loud Grenda is a gaming streamer with glasses.
Ford got kicked out of home for being a freak, Stan dropped out of college, Ford fought his way through college with loans and scholarships and has a couple PHDs. Ford came to Stan’s tourist trap 30 years ago (which Bill helped build) to talk to him, Stan let him set up a lab in the basement, went down there after being manipulated by Bill and freaked at how big it was, fight, Stan turned on the portal and ended up falling in, now Ford has to run the shack and try to stabilize the portal so it can open a double-sided gateway for Stan to come back, also he convinced everyone that wym ‘Stanley’ it was always ‘Stanford’ and actually now he’d rather go by his full name or just ‘Ford’ thanks.
Ford = Grunkle 1, loves them kids, enthusiastic, uses mystery shack for money, curious, bullheaded, feels super fuckin bad about what happened, tries not to cuss in front of the kids but isn’t a very aware guy
Stan = Grunkle 2, immediately falls in love with the kids, very creative, fighter, a bit scared of being emasculated tbh, nemesis with Bill, total sailor’s mouth
Bill = what if Bill’s the same except he’s a fucking square? You fucking square.
Waddles is a cute lil round goat that Dipper fell in love with and stole, and there’s also a big silly pig named Gompers around
The kids have a lot more fun toys from the start because Grunkle Ford isn’t gonna tell them about the portal, but if his kids want magnet guns, they’re gonna get magnet guns.
Stanley wrote the journals, they’re just accounts of the weird shit he’s run into over time in Gravity Falls. Ford is using #3 to try to derive scientific information about the anomalous nature of the place, but Stan is so Not A Scientist ™ that it’s hard. Mabel finds journal #1 and it’s full of hastily drawn pictures and warnings like, instead of a scientific name and approximate diagrams, it’s “what the fuck is this??” and “fuckin huge!” And Mabel is adding more scientific/helpful labels, Like the gnomes (all girls) are in there as “annoying little shits” “punt them” “if there’s too many to punt, hide.” To which Mabel adds “LEAF BLOWER - VERY EFFECTIVE” and “CAN STACK TO BECOME LARGE CREATURE”
Ford is too chaotic for a journal so he just has stacks of binders full of BS. And again, he doesn’t tell the kids about the lab downstairs or the portal or anything, but he’s 100% willing to give them stuff, and he’s become a chronic liar over time in order to run the mystery shack, signing legal papers and taxes as Stanley but having people call him Stanford.
Anyways, the portal incident happens as normal, and when Stan comes out of the portal he absolutely punches his brother, but the response is “Okay, I might deserve that, but so do you” “Fair enough.” And a reciprocal punch. “So does anyone else know about your secret lab situation?” “Oh, just… the entire US government?” “WHAT?!” And suddenly Stan is the doer and Ford takes a backseat like they did as kids, when Stan would make all the friends for them and beat up the bullies and Ford would do his homework.
The “Billpocalypse,” as Stan so aptly named it, occurs when Mabel starts getting a lot of attention from both Grunkles for being smart and creative and Dipper gets upset and runs off, then gets tricked on promise of being “smarter.” Stan, as always, stands up to Bill and has problems for it, and when the bubble around the town gets discovered, claims that he knows what’s causing it and how to destroy it, not wanting real-scientist Ford to get captured or anything. Dipland is full of candy and unicorns and everyone is equally smart, and Mabel breaks him out by explaining that her intelligence would be useless without his creativity, confidence, and enthusiasm, and the world needs him to save it. The Bill solution is the same, Stan has a metal plate implanted in his head and can’t let Bill in cause he’d discover that Stan was lying, so they swap and Ford gets his mind erased… for like a week, then he’s fine. Show ends with the grunkles going on the road trip of their dreams together in an RV they tricked out.
Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions? Fiddleford ideas? And ofc I welcome anyone else to draw/write for this, I’d love to see more.
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samuaint · 2 years
Text
Steddie Headcannons
Eddie's love language is Acts of Service, Steve's is physical touch. This is an issue at first because Eddie keeps refusing to sit still because he is trying to do things for Steve until he figures out that he will be providing for him by sitting the fuck down and giving him cuddles.
Eddie was not cared for enough as a child, as such he is a soft service dom because he wants to give people care he never got. Steve is neglected and is a sub who seeks out the care and attention he needs.
Steve thinks DnD is nerdy and dumb, but adores watching how Eddie interacts with the kids™ and gets engrossed by how amazing of a story teller he is so he goes to every session and pretends to read a magazine while he is really watching Eddie. The kids ™ know exactly what is up and get Steve a Hellfire Tshirt as a gift. He acts nonchalant about it but he loves it and wears it to bed most nights.
Eddie does not mind that Steve has so much more money than him, but does not like him spending it on him. So whenever there is a reason for Steve to get Eddie a gift he always makes it something expensive, but also something he knows Eddie needs so he can't argue. For his birthday, new guitar strings and amps for the band. For Christmas a new leather jacket he has been eyeing every time they take the kids to the mall.
Eleven, Robin, and Eddie all have a special connection and understand each other the best because they are all neurodivergent. Eddie and Robin buy El her first set of ear plugs and explain to her where they get the soft feeling t-shirts they always wear.
When they go to Rocky Horror in person no one tells Steve and Nancy not to admit it is there first time and Robin and Eddie have a blast watching them be initiated in on stage.
Steve finds a red bandana like Eddie's black one and puts it in his back pocket because he thinks it will be cool. Eddie loses it when he sees it and decides to educate him, and this also leads to a fun limits and planning discussion for them.
Steve loves praise and Eddie loves to give it. But Eddies cheeky grin when he is lightly teasing Steve about anything makes him weak at the knees.
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giurochedadomani · 1 year
Text
Guys I've been possessed by the possibilities of a winter soldier mungrove au.
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@puppetoffthehook 😁
I'm shit at any long format fic, but I couldn't stop thinking about the ‘first meeting’ post the winter soldier events. Also, perhaps Eddie getting framed for murder fits better post his turning into the winter soldier? As in, every information points in the direction that the winter soldier was designated to infiltrate, kill and disappear. So it doesn't make sense that he was behind the brutal murder of governor's Carver wife (or any of the horrific murders that take place shortly after). They have been extremely public and extremely gory, not like any of the other victims of the winter soldier, who disappeared never to be seen again.
However, Eddie might be the key to lead them to whoever's plotting behind the curtains (perhaps Vecna / Henry Creel is our Baron Zemo?). Billy really defends this hypothesis because something something he and Eddie have always had each other's back, something something he finds infuriating that people have always read the worst in him, but also because he prefers that option to telling anyone about why he's so invested in helping Eddie.
(Also, the logical thing to me is to make Steve into our Iron Man, because rich white boy with daddy issues and also to keep the Rivalry ™ with Billy, but I'm also a strong supporter of harringroveson or at least 'Steve, Eddie and Billy as besties' so, an Iron Man that doesn't have uhhhh the same kind of backstory with the winter soldier? A bit more understanding Iron Man that doesn't lead to the civil war big fight?)
(also Corroded Coffin as the howling commandos, perhaps?)
Anyway, a bit of suffering for our favourite guys:
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A red guitar pick hangs from a necklace. Strange light reflects on it, making it vaguely fluorescent. Billy feels the familiar warmth of a leather jacket as two arms envelope him in a hug, a voice speaking as through a broken phone:
"Don't believe him. You know what Neil wants. What do I have to do to convince you that you're not the bad guy?"
"Eddie". Then again, louder: "Eddie". He feels the cold down his back and then– on his face? And the arms around him keep him from– Gareth's shouting something. And Billy hangs on the broken door of the train. And Eddie's scream gets lost in the distance as he falls to his death.
"Eddie!"
Billy wakes up as the bucket under the broken pipeline overflows. Drop, drop and then–
"Don't move", mutters a voice next to him. Billy rises up abruptly, only to be pulled back by his wrists and a clinking behind his back and– okay, he's handcuffed to what feels like a broken, old radiator. And Eddie's next to him.
Eddie–
Eddie slowly rises the damp rag when Billy's head snaps back to look at him. He's been. Patching him up? Big, brown eyes eye his forehead curiously as Billy feels the cut closing. The long list of plans, the myriad of contingencies Harrington ran him through disappear as his chest constricts.
He thinks: he's alive. He mutters: "Thanks".
The hair's longer than the last time, curls sitting comfortably past his shoulders as Eddie sets the rag aside and gets up. He has ditched the uniform in favor of a dark leather jacket over dark denim.
"You didn't have to put yourself in the middle". If it wasn't for the roughness of his voice, it would almost feel like they're again sixteen and he's chiding Billy for defending him from some bullies instead of for helping him out with a Swiss special operations team.
Billy shrugs.
"You didn't have to take me to–", wherever this is. He takes on the aseptic, spartan room they're into as Eddie moves around. There's a thin, ratty mattress in a corner, Billy can't help the little smile that curves the corner of his lips when he sees Eddie putting in a bag a scribbled notebook next to it. "You didn't have to help me either. Yet here we are".
He can't have been unconscious for long, they're probably still somewhere in Geneva. He wonders how long he has before someone inevitably tracks them down.
"I'm not here to arrest you. I can help", he says, because it probably begs clarification. Eddie's face parts in a sneer. "I know you didn't do it".
Which is an hypothesis at best, a bad hunch at worst, as Harrington oh so kindly put it back in New York.
Billy's not sure what Eddie's trying to read on his face, but he'd like to smooth his frown with his hand. He wants to– He wants–
"Whoever you're searching for is dead". Billy feels as if all air has been punched out of him, as if they were back at Starcourt, Eddie's hands around his throat. "You'll end up dead if you keep searching for him".
He thinks: no. He thinks: not even if another century passes. He'll drag Eddie back from hell no matter if the devil himself decides to get in his way.
"That's what he told you?", he shouts, as Eddie makes his way to the door. "You don't have to believe him! Eddie!"
(What do I have to do to convince you that you're not the bad guy?)
Later, a shadow on the Mont Blanc bridge will extend their hand over the water. They will absently caress a stolen necklace, feeling the slight beat of the minuscule tracking device hiding on the pick. After a long moment, the shadow will put it back around their neck.
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Text
OC Aesthetics: Voidpunk Edition
Tagged by @purplehairsecretlair. Thank you <3
Tagging: @roofgeese @clonesupport @natesofrellis @confidentandgood @lethal-justice @thomrainer @direwombat @glitter-and-gasoline @funkypoacher @derelictheretic @adelaidedrubman @clicheantagonist @aceghosts @strangefable
Rules: - Bold what always/definitely applies to your OC, italicise what somewhat/sometimes applies, strikethrough what definitely doesn’t or never applies
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Biblically-Accurate Angel: Wears brighter colors than most of the other options, Has way too many eyes, Kind and Friendly but a little Aloof, Obsessed with vaguely religious imagery even if they’re not actually religious, Freckles covering their shoulders and arms, Artist Vibes, Chaotic Good, Unassuming but always Underestimated, Definitely the type of kid to close their eyes on a swing set and pretend they’re flying, Just really liked Good Omens tbh, Book lover, Loves the feeling of sunlight
Old Forest God: Definitely listens to Hozier, Extremely cheap when it comes to money, Probably owns a lot of denim, Just wants to get lost in the woods as an escape from modern capitalism, Foggy Mountains, Lanterns glowing in the fog of dusk, Binges Lotr & The Hobbit whenever they feel sad, Loves watching the sunrise, Says weirdly cryptic but incredibly wise shit all the time, Gives really good advice, Just wants to lie down in a patch of moss and decay, Not really bothered by death honestly, Has worn this same sweater for the past 3 days
Object Head: Old-School or Vintage Aesthetic, Extremely specific Special Interests, Probably waxes poetically to themself every night, Galaxy Print everything, Probably owns way too many jackets, Wise beyond their years, Excellent sense of humor, Probably really into embroidery or knitting, Theatre kid, Just really tired tbh, Would probably punch god right now, So stressed they’re actually calm, Keeps way too many journals and diaries, Terrible memory for basic tasks, Needs a lot of physical pressure to feel comfortable or sleep
Robot: Intentionally tacky fashion sense, Patterned Button-ups for Days, Their wardrobe looks like the floor of an 80s arcade, Cold Hands, Very poor social skills, Feels feelings in their own unique way that nobody understands, Hates when people pity them, Rarely ever understands jokes and honestly doesn’t want to, Is actually doing pretty well with online learning tbh, Tech savvy, Probably had a Goth phase in Middle or High School, Loves to keep collections of really hyper specific things, Excellent memory
Cryptid: Can recite both the entire X-Files and Gravity Falls theme songs, Has fully embraced the term “feral”, Likes to visit animal shelters and play with the puppies and kittens a lot, Just wants fangs man, Obsessed with Mythology, Honestly wouldn’t really mind being feared by some, Really morbid interests, Definitely liked crawling up onto the roof as a kid, Wanderer, Likes to explore a lot, Talk to the moon when they need to vent, Likes nesting in blankets and pillows
Alien: Obsessed with Buzzfeed Unsolved, Shane Madej Vibes, That holographic material that’s silver and shines rainbow is their peak aesthetic, Acts like they’re studying humans even though they’re a part of the same species (or are they???), Obsessed with space, Feral Scientist vibes, Just really wants to learn everything they can, Owns way too much NASA Merch, Pastel Shades, Can still recite their childhood lullabies word-for-word, Philosophy Nerd
Vaguely Humanoid Shaped: Quiet Kid who’s always underestimated, Gave up on the perception of self 12 years ago, Maladaptive Daydreamer, Listens to older styles of Music, Goes all-out for Halloween, Has a lot of dysphoria, Craves Human Contact so much dude, Hates online learning with a fiery passion, Obsessed with the Magnus Archives, A Crybaby but in a good way, Loves taking things apart and putting them back together again, Gifted Kid Burnout™, Obsessively researched and infodumps about their special interest(s), Has very few friends unfortunately, Always sits in the very back of class
Oh God wtf is That: Wild Overly-Saturated Colors, Gets personally offended if they ever fit in with the majority, Likes being weird and fully embraces it, Probably had that phase where they were really interested in studying Serial Killers for some reason, Definitely a Chaotic Neutral, Visual Stims a lot, Unintentionally ends up staring at people because they’re zoning out, Buries their issues under a thick blanket of memes and funky music, Vents their emotions through their art or writing or whatever artform they choose
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Biblically-Accurate Angel: Wears brighter colors than most of the other options, Has way too many eyes, Kind and Friendly but a little Aloof, Obsessed with vaguely religious imagery even if they’re not actually religious, Freckles covering their shoulders and arms, Artist Vibes, Chaotic Good, Unassuming but always Underestimated, Definitely the type of kid to close their eyes on a swing set and pretend they’re flying, Just really liked Good Omens tbh, Book lover, Loves the feeling of sunlight
Old Forest God: Definitely listens to Hozier, Extremely cheap when it comes to money, Probably owns a lot of denim, Just wants to get lost in the woods as an escape from modern capitalism, Foggy Mountains, Lanterns glowing in the fog of dusk, Binges Lotr & The Hobbit whenever they feel sad, Loves watching the sunrise, Says weirdly cryptic but incredibly wise shit all the time, Gives really good advice, Just wants to lie down in a patch of moss and decay, Not really bothered by death honestly, Has worn this same sweater for the past 3 days
Object Head: Old-School or Vintage Aesthetic, Extremely specific Special Interests, Probably waxes poetically to themself every night, Galaxy Print everything, Probably owns way too many jackets, Wise beyond their years, Excellent sense of humor, Probably really into embroidery or knitting, Theatre kid, Just really tired tbh, Would probably punch god right now, So stressed they’re actually calm, Keeps way too many journals and diaries, Terrible memory for basic tasks, Needs a lot of physical pressure to feel comfortable or sleep
Robot: Intentionally tacky fashion sense, Patterned Button-ups for Days, Their wardrobe looks like the floor of an 80s arcade, Cold Hands, Very poor social skills, Feels feelings in their own unique way that nobody understands, Hates when people pity them, Rarely ever understands jokes and honestly doesn’t want to, Is actually doing pretty well with online learning tbh, Tech savvy, Probably had a Goth phase in Middle or High School, Loves to keep collections of really hyper specific things, Excellent memory
Cryptid: Can recite both the entire X-Files and Gravity Falls theme songs, Has fully embraced the term “feral”, Likes to visit animal shelters and play with the puppies and kittens a lot, Just wants fangs man, Obsessed with Mythology, Honestly wouldn’t really mind being feared by some, Really morbid interests, Definitely liked crawling up onto the roof as a kid, Wanderer, Likes to explore a lot, Talk to the moon when they need to vent, Likes nesting in blankets and pillows
Alien: Obsessed with Buzzfeed Unsolved, Shane Madej Vibes, That holographic material that’s silver and shines rainbow is their peak aesthetic, Acts like they’re studying humans even though they’re a part of the same species (or are they???), Obsessed with space, Feral Scientist vibes, Just really wants to learn everything they can, Owns way too much NASA Merch, Pastel Shades, Can still recite their childhood lullabies word-for-word, Philosophy Nerd
Vaguely Humanoid Shaped: Quiet Kid who’s always underestimated, Gave up on the perception of self 12 years ago, Maladaptive Daydreamer, Listens to older styles of Music, Goes all-out for Halloween, Has a lot of dysphoria, Craves Human Contact so much dude, Hates online learning with a fiery passion, Obsessed with the Magnus Archives, A Crybaby but in a good way, Loves taking things apart and putting them back together again, Gifted Kid Burnout™, Obsessively researched and infodumps about their special interest(s), Has very few friends unfortunately, Always sits in the very back of class
Oh God wtf is That: Wild Overly-Saturated Colors, Gets personally offended if they ever fit in with the majority, Likes being weird and fully embraces it, Probably had that phase where they were really interested in studying Serial Killers for some reason, Definitely a Chaotic Neutral, Visual Stims a lot, Unintentionally ends up staring at people because they’re zoning out, Buries their issues under a thick blanket of memes and funky music, Vents their emotions through their art or writing or whatever artform they choose
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Biblically-Accurate Angel: Wears brighter colors than most of the other options, Has way too many eyes, Kind and Friendly but a little Aloof, Obsessed with vaguely religious imagery even if they’re not actually religious, Freckles covering their shoulders and arms, Artist Vibes, Chaotic Good, Unassuming but always Underestimated, Definitely the type of kid to close their eyes on a swing set and pretend they’re flying, Just really liked Good Omens tbh, Book lover, Loves the feeling of sunlight
Old Forest God: Definitely listens to Hozier, Extremely cheap when it comes to money, Probably owns a lot of denim, Just wants to get lost in the woods as an escape from modern capitalism, Foggy Mountains, Lanterns glowing in the fog of dusk, Binges Lotr & The Hobbit whenever they feel sad, Loves watching the sunrise, Says weirdly cryptic but incredibly wise shit all the time, Gives really good advice, Just wants to lie down in a patch of moss and decay, Not really bothered by death honestly, Has worn this same sweater for the past 3 days
Object Head: Old-School or Vintage Aesthetic, Extremely specific Special Interests, Probably waxes poetically to themself every night, Galaxy Print everything, Probably owns way too many jackets, Wise beyond their years, Excellent sense of humor, Probably really into embroidery or knitting, Theatre kid, Just really tired tbh, Would probably punch god right now, So stressed they’re actually calm, Keeps way too many journals and diaries, Terrible memory for basic tasks, Needs a lot of physical pressure to feel comfortable or sleep
Robot: Intentionally tacky fashion sense, Patterned Button-ups for Days, Their wardrobe looks like the floor of an 80s arcade, Cold Hands, Very poor social skills, Feels feelings in their own unique way that nobody understands, Hates when people pity them, Rarely ever understands jokes and honestly doesn’t want to, Is actually doing pretty well with online learning tbh, Tech savvy, Probably had a Goth phase in Middle or High School, Loves to keep collections of really hyper specific things, Excellent memory
Cryptid: Can recite both the entire X-Files and Gravity Falls theme songs, Has fully embraced the term “feral”, Likes to visit animal shelters and play with the puppies and kittens a lot, Just wants fangs man, Obsessed with Mythology, Honestly wouldn’t really mind being feared by some, Really morbid interests, Definitely liked crawling up onto the roof as a kid, Wanderer, Likes to explore a lot, Talk to the moon when they need to vent, Likes nesting in blankets and pillows
Alien: Obsessed with Buzzfeed Unsolved, Shane Madej Vibes, That holographic material that’s silver and shines rainbow is their peak aesthetic, Acts like they’re studying humans even though they’re a part of the same species (or are they???), Obsessed with space, Feral Scientist vibes, Just really wants to learn everything they can, Owns way too much NASA Merch, Pastel Shades, Can still recite their childhood lullabies word-for-word, Philosophy Nerd
Vaguely Humanoid Shaped: Quiet Kid who’s always underestimated, Gave up on the perception of self 12 years ago, Maladaptive Daydreamer, Listens to older styles of Music, Goes all-out for Halloween, Has a lot of dysphoria, Craves Human Contact so much dude, Hates online learning with a fiery passion, Obsessed with the Magnus Archives, A Crybaby but in a good way, Loves taking things apart and putting them back together again, Gifted Kid Burnout™, Obsessively researched and infodumps about their special interest(s), Has very few friends unfortunately, Always sits in the very back of class
Oh God wtf is That: Wild Overly-Saturated Colors, Gets personally offended if they ever fit in with the majority, Likes being weird and fully embraces it, Probably had that phase where they were really interested in studying Serial Killers for some reason, Definitely a Chaotic Neutral, Visual Stims a lot, Unintentionally ends up staring at people because they’re zoning out, Buries their issues under a thick blanket of memes and funky music, Vents their emotions through their art or writing or whatever artform they choose
20 notes · View notes
fereldanwench · 1 year
Note
🩺, 💴, 👁️
Oohhhh, well, this is a fun set. (I hate that I don't have :bongocat: emoji on Tumblr, but pretend like there's :bongocat: here.)
🩺- Viktor Vektor
I have unfortunately completely dropped the ball on keeping up with this little story (although I have like 80% of the next chapter finished, I just need to remember how to make the words go), but Valerie and Vik actually sort of dated in the months before the heist. So a core memory? How about a snippet of the very rough draft for the fight that ends it. Context: Valerie was dealing with the anniversary of mom's death, which is a Complicated™ thing even 14 years after it happened, and Viktor just does not know how to handle things he can't immediately fix himself. (Also, he has intimacy issues and if Valerie isn't getting emotional support, she needs to at least be getting off. Particularly at this point in her life. (Sorry, Vik, lmao.))
“I’m just not good at the feelings stuff.” He forced a conciliatory smile. “That’s more Misty’s department.” “Maybe I should go date her instead.” Valerie dropped her arms. “You know if you just wanted a fuck buddy, you could have said so instead of pretending like you actually give a shit.” “Now wait a damn minute. I haven’t even tried to get you into bed.” “Right, fair point, actually. I’m practically throwing myself at you and you say just want to take it slow? So no sex, but I also can’t talk to you when I’m having a shit day–What are we even doing?” “Getting to know each other?” Valerie scoffed. “You won’t open up about anything other than boxing and beer, and when I try to let you in, I get stonewalled with ‘I’m not good with feelings.’ How exactly are we getting to know each other?” Her brow softened, and she looked at him with something worse than anger: pity.  “Maybe this was a mistake,” she said quietly. Viktor felt his heart sink into his stomach.  “You know, Jackie said this was your thing. You just bolt as soon as you realize someone isn't as perfect as you think you are.” Viktor had never seen her go so cold before. He closed his eyes. Fuck. “Nice. That’s very nice.” She grabbed her jacket and walked in slow, measured steps to the door. “Guess you should have listened to him then.”  “Valerie, wait, it’s one in the morning. Don’t leave like this.” “Good night, Viktor.”
💴- Hanako Arasaka
It's kind of a cop-out answer because DUH but also I just haven't really explored much of Valerie's relationship to the Arasaka family because I am very intimidated by getting their characterization right: but I mean, helping Goro essentially abduct her and then sitting across from Hanako fucking Arasaka in that derelict apartment for 5 minutes before a bunch of 'Saka elites charge in is gonna stay with Valerie for a loooong time.
👁️ - Sandayu Oda
Kicking that man's ass all over that Japantown warehouse thingy during the parade. Sorry, Sandayu. SORRY, GORO. I'M KIDDING. WE'RE ALL FRIENDS HERE jfc
Similarly to Hanako, I've yet to actually really flesh out the details for the kind of relationship Valerie has with Oda so the canon events are what stick out to me the most. And I think those memories tend to actually revolve more around Goro than Oda, like remembering how Goro made it a point to stand between Oda and Valerie when they first met and how he begged for her to not kill Oda.
But I think they become friends eventually, and to that end, Oda showing his support to both Goro and Valerie when they go to find Yorinobu probably plants the seed for that friendship to start growing.
[cyberpunk 2077 core meme-ory game!]
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