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lilyblyss · 3 years

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Like the bad influence I am, I dragged my friend down into Nanami brain rot with me, and like always she gave me such a wonderful idea to write. I managed to kick this out in a day, and promptly passed out before posting lol.

Word count: 3k

Warning: 18+, public sex, sneaky sex, role play, Nanami is only a touch mean, breeding kink if you squint

On your days off when the curses are unusually behaved or your coworkers are heavy in the area, you take a trip to a small bookstore a few hours out of town. It's tucked away between an old vintage shop and an abandoned thrift shop with an apartment sitting on top of it, it's almost always empty, and doesn’t have many workers but the nice old woman who recommends you books ever so often is ridiculously nice, so you figure it helps with the ambiance. The warm cream walls paired with the rows and rows of dark brown bookcases and hanging lights seemed like a different world compared to the city streets, and it makes a wonderful backdrop for the small cafe area it was attached to.

You weren't sure when the little game you two were playing started, but as your eyes drifted from the spines of nameless books to the brown eyes following you ever since you walked into the shop, you couldn’t care less. He sat at one of the tables, his presence so strong that you stared at him immediately upon walking in.

You rubbed your thighs together as you could feel the tingle of excitement run through you. You make eye contact briefly, and you shiver lightly as you watch his eyes run down your figure before looking back towards your books. You start to wonder if the yellow maxi skirt you decided to wear was a little too modest, pulling at the V-neckline of your shirt, hoping to give the man a little more of a peek. You could feel yourself fluster at such an obvious ploy, almost embarrassed at the thought of wanting to tempt him from across the room.

When you look back at him though, he’s focused on the English tea he ordered, taking a deep sip, seemingly uninterested in the skins of your collar bone and whispers of your breast. You pout, huffing a disappointed sigh quietly, walking deeper to look for more books. His eyes stay on you though, even when he gets up and searches for his own sets of books, you can still feel his gaze on you. You can feel yourself getting wet, each time your eyes meet, wondering if he'll make a move, or whenever he’d pass you in the tiny, almost suffocating aisles, putting both hands on your hips and scooting by you--close enough you can feel him through his khaki slacks. His small grunts of “Excuse me” against the curve of your neck have you questioning your sanity.

Tucked away towards the back of the store, you skim through the book you randomly picked up, words turning into mush as your mind wander back to thick fingers pressing against your warm, sweaty skin, wondering if there’s an open bathroom in the store that you can go to before the man is standing right next to you. You drink in his blonde hair, neatly parted to one side, his button-up shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing off his forearms, and his nicely pressed slacks.

“A poetry book? I didn’t take you for the type,” he comments, reaching up to grab a book, and you hate how heavy your tongue feels in your mouth.

“Well, it looks like I’m full of surprises,” You laugh, “Are you into poetry, Mister?”

He scoffs playfully, “Mister? Come now, I can’t be that much older than you.”

You shrug, blinking up at him in a way you hope is attractive. “You never know, I’m sure you’d surprise me.”

One side of his mouth perks up slightly, “I’d like to, all things considered.”

You both talk about books and authors for a quick moment, both of you leaning closer to one another until his hand brushes against your hips too many times to be an accident. You can’t call him out on it though, because he pulls away to point to a book--the one he’d put back as you started pointing out poems to him--saying how he thinks it’ll be right up your alley, and how highly he recommended it.

You reach up trying to grab said recommended book to you, just tapping the bottom of the spine before you feel the man move behind you. His body slightly presses yours into the bookcase as he reaches up and grabs the book, his other hand coming to rest against your hip as if he was using your body for balance. The smell of his cologne is so intoxicating, thick and rich and suffocating in all the right ways that you can’t help but think he knows exactly what you wanted from him. There’s no way he can’t hear the way your body yearns for him, and you think maybe his is just as yearning. You test that theory by slowly grinding against him. From the hardness pressing against you, you were correct.

He groans, deep and throaty, and his hand tightens on your hip, enough that you softly moan at the idea of what’s to come.

He buries his face in your neck, “You shouldn’t do that. Someone might get the wrong idea.”

You turn to look at him, eyes lust-filled and begging, “What if you have the right idea?”

He puts the book back in its rightful spot--what a great customer--reaching for your chin and tilting it so his mouth is slanted against yours. “Well then,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against your lips, “I would have to ask you to take responsibility for your actions.

His hands map out your body with precision, leaving you breathless as they tease and fondle your breast through your shirt. Your head falls against his shoulder and his lips land against the exposed portion of your collarbone, and you almost laugh when you remember thinking he wasn’t paying attention to you earlier. You reach one hand behind you, cupping his growing erection through his clothes.

He lets out a groan at the touch before growling, hands leaving your body to grab your wrists, forcing you to place them on the bookcase.

He pants heavily against your ear, “No touching.”

You turn back to him and smirk, “Worried you’ll come too soon?”

He kisses you, pressing his lips against yours roughly, basically forcing his tongue inside your mouth, exploring the softness of the inside, and stealing the breath from your lungs. “You’ll ruin mines, sweetheart.” He gives you a particularly hard thrust of his hips, angling your hips just so that his hardness rubs against your lower lips through the fabric of your skirt. He’s warning you to behave, and you moan. “And try not to be too loud. Wouldn’t want to worry poor Iris, would we?”

Suddenly, the idea of getting caught crossed your mind, and your pussy clenched around nothing. You click your tongue, mentally berating yourself for getting aroused for the thought.

The man wouldn’t let you linger on the thought too long, though. You let out a small whimper as his hand rope around your waist, reaching under your skirt to play with your clit, and he lets out a groan when his fingers meet your wetness. He chuckles against your ear, giving the lobe a soft bite. “No panties? How naughty, it’s almost like you planned this.”

You breathlessly giggle, catching the hidden joke in his words, “A-and how would I have been able to do that, Mister.” You shiver and moan when his fingers press firmly against you, dragging antagonizing-ly slow before pressing against the opening of your cunt. Your hands grip the bookcase hard enough your hands hurt. He's being so slow.

The man shushes you, pressing his dick against the curve of your ass. “Come now, you don’t want to get us caught, do you?”

You open your mouth to respond, all while he slowly presses just one finger into you. “I-if you’re so worried about getting caught, maybe you should hurry this up.” You grind your hips back against his, feeling his dick twitch in his slacks. You gasp loudly when he suddenly shoves two fingers deep inside you, arms buckling to give you something to lean your head against, swallowing another moan. “F-fuck…”

He humps against you as he begins to finger fuck you, the soft clicking of your pussy seeming so loud in your ears, even with the classical music slowly playing in the background. “‘Gotta prep you. Don’t want to hurt you.” He chokes out.

You’re at least a little happy he seems as aroused as you do.

His fingers curl up inside you, scissoring for good measures, and you bite at your bottom lip, hoping to stay as quiet as possible. You love how his fingers feel inside you, curling at just the right position, pressing deep inside you, rubbing against your walls giving your wonderful friction, but you can't help yearning for something thicker, something that presses so deep inside you, just barely kissing your cervix, and bordering the lines of pain and pleasure.

You can't even confidently say how long he's been fingering you, but every second that passes feels too damn long.

"E-enough," you breath, back arching and pressing your ass against the front of his pants. He thinks nothing of your words as he presses his fingers into the second knuckle, repeatedly pressing against your g-spot and pushing you closer to your release. "I need… i-inside, please."

He wiggles his fingers, and you don't even need to look at him to know he's raising an eyebrow at you. "They are inside you."

You click your tongue. "You. Y-your dick. C'mon."

"No patience?"

You groaned before looking back at him, face warm, and eyes teary, your bottom lip is bitten red and falls open with a soundless plea falling on them.

He leans forward and kisses you on your cheek, "Okay then."

His hands leave you to unbuckle his belt, bunching up the fabric of your skirt to the top of your ass, holding it in place with his own hips. One of his hands follows the curve of your butt, pushing one of your thighs forward until it hooks against the second-lowest shelf. You laugh when he tells you to be careful of the books, but it comes out shaky when he rubs his dick against your wet lips.

"Remember to stay nice and quiet for me, okay?"

He hardly waits for an answer, thrusting once, cock halfway inside you, and pulling back only to bottom out in the second thrust. He's at least thoughtful enough to wait until your heart isn't going to rip out of your chest before he starts his shallow thrusts. He places one of his hands on the bookshelf, a shelf higher than yours so he isn't crushing you against the furniture, (although, admittedly you wouldn't have minded) while his other is on your waist to steady you.

That still isn't good enough for you. You roll your hips, putting your face back into your arms in frustration, prompting him to go faster, groaning when his hand firmly grabs your hip, stopping you.

One of your hands turns into a fist, banging against the bookcase as you curse, "Oh, for fuck's sake--ah!"

He thrusts deeper inside of you, rougher, for about three thrusts before he starts a faster pace. He knocks out a few surprised moans out of you, and then shushes you again, reprimanding you for losing your temper briefly, and you can kind of hear the enjoyment in his voice alongside the lust.

"Is that good enough for you now, little miss?"

You press one of your hands against your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds that keep escaping from your mouth, but it's hard when you're being fucked so good. You close your hazy eyes, focusing only on the feeling of his hips slamming against yours, how he repeatedly brushes against the soft spongy bundle of nerves, making you feel like your knees will buckle. He's thrusting inside you like he's trying to break you, and it feels so great that it makes you want to scream. But you're not supposed to, and that makes it all the more exciting.

Your voice gets louder without your permission, and you hope your one hand against your lips is able to keep it from carrying to the front. He certainly doesn't seem to mind, not when he's attacking the sweet spot behind your ear with his lips.

"P-please. Ah, fuck, please!" You're not sure what you're begging for. On one hand, you think you're begging for a break; a couple seconds to get yourself in order, so you don't embarrass the both of you by screaming out your pleasure in the back of some antique bookstore; on the other hand, you might be begging him for more, wanting him to completely consume you in pleasure. "K-Kento, please—!"

His hand leaves the bookshelf long enough to grab your chin, making you face him, "I thought I told you we needed to be quiet." He groaned, keeping face, before pressing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as his thrusts became more aggressive. "Always so quick to break character, aren't you, my love?"

He says that as if he hadn't called you sweetheart with that lovestruck look in his eyes just a couple moments ago.

Though, any and every smart word was quickly fucked out of you as Nanami's hand drifted back to your clit, fingers much gentler than his hips, making your mind swirl at the difference. You hiccup soft moans into his mouth, kisses reduced to nothing but his lips pressed against your bottom lip as you slowly forget how to respond to it.

Muscles tensing as your orgasm approaches, you sing his name repeatedly against his lips, missing the syllables against your tongue having not said them at all while he thrust into you like you're his personal fuck toy. And Nanami loves your blissed-out face, hazy eyes trying their best to focus on him, mouth parted as if you're waiting for Nanami to put his tongue in your mouth, a small sliver of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he fucks you so deep you forget to swallow.

"K-Ken, 'm com—ooh! I'm coming—"

When you come, Nanami presses his fingers into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself and muffling the sounds as he works you through it. He keeps them there until your jaw gets loose after you ride out your orgasm. They return to their original position and he rubs your clit until you're shaking with oversensitivity, hand reaching down weakly to grab his wrist, begging silently for him to stop.

He doesn't give you much time to recover, he simply can't. You know he's pushed beyond his limits of patience, turning you around quickly, picking you up by hooking his hands around the back of your thigh, and thrusting into you.

One of your flats falls off your foot as his relentless thrusts continue, and you wonder just how this old bookcase is sturdy enough to handle the brute side of Nanami Kento, but said man must have realized your thoughts have drifted from him because he reaches between you to thumb at your clit again.

"Think only of me when I'm inside you."

You manage to stutter out a small apology, words mumbling with each jerk of his hips. You bury your face into his shoulder, hands gripping the back of his shirt so hard to think you might tear it. Both your arms and your cunt squeeze him tightly as you think that Nanami is a selfish, selfish man as he continues to push into your overstimulated body and forces you through another orgasm. You think that one definitely messed up the front of Nanami's pants, but you don't know for sure because he's still fucking you to his own release, so you can't even stop to check.

You bite into his neck, not caring about the fact you also bite into the fabric of his collar, just needing something to ground you and keep your whimpers from being full-out moans.

"Shit. Are you ready for me to fill you up, Y/N?" He groans in your ear, making you shudder and lock up against him. You nod, but he nuzzles the side of your head, prompting you for a response.

"Yes, yes, please, Kento, cum in me—fill me…"

"Good girl." He groans, hands moving from your thighs to your ass, pulling you into each thrust, favoring deep and hard thrusts, making sure he's as deep as possible in you before he finally releases, letting out a deep moan from his chest and burying his face in your neck.

The both of you are spent, melting into one another as you feel the blissful aftermath of your orgasms. Nanami rests his weight against you, letting the bookshelf hold the both of you up, kissing you softly and deeply, letting his hands roam against your sides, and you run yours through his hair that you can't believe you hadn't wildly messed up yet.

"Nanami? Y/N?"

You both look at each other with panicked looks on your faces as Iris's voice gets closer to the back of the store. Nanami quickly pulls out and puts you down, trying not to feel guilty by the discomforted moan you let out, trying to put his cock back into his pants. Luckily for the both of you, your second orgasm wasn't as messy as it felt, so with a quick untucking of his shirt, he could easily hide it. You try to put a little distance between the two of you, but the second you step away from the bookshelf, your legs instantly give out, and you collapse to your knees with a small yelp.

When Iris enters through the mouth of the aisle, all she sees is you sitting on the floor with an open book in your hands and Nanami standing a foot away from you, face buried in a book. However, if she looked a little closer, she'd see your face flushed with embarrassment and the subtle shake of Nanami's shoulders in laughter.

The game you two choose to play is a dangerous one, but it sure as hell is worth it.

#jjk #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami supremacy #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

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Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ash #yandere ash landers

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Caffeine Rush: Chapter Two / Mocha

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier learns his fate. You take him out to that dinner you promised.

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language, mentions of food, tooth-rotting fluff. I mean it.

A/N: HI FRIENDS if you can’t already tell from my blog, I LOVE red velvet cake and this chapter is highly self indulgent. This fic is so near and dear to me because I really relate to the reader and put more of myself in her than I do others. I hope you guys enjoy!!!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Mocha: espresso, steamed milk, and chocolate. Beloved for the sweet taste.

To his surprise, Javier didn’t get fired. In fact, they didn’t even mention Los Pepes. He walked in there, sweating bullets and filled with anxiety and caffeine, only to learn that they weren’t the review board. They were operations, and asked Javier what he knew about the Calí cartel. Afraid it was a trap, he didn’t answer, until the man across from him cracked a smile and told him about his new assignment.

“Your work with Escobar and the Medellín cartel was unconventional, but we needed it. If you’ll accept our offer, we’d like to assign you to Calí to head the investigation into their cartel.”

Javier’s brain froze in shock. He was wordless, staring blankly ahead and furrowing his brow. After a few moments, he mustered out all that he could. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, Agent Peña. With the assignment would additionally come a raise in pay and rank, as well as-”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it.”

“We haven’t finished the offer-”

“I’ll take it, sir. Thank you,” he said, nodding.

“Well… take this,” he said, making Javier stand from the chair across from the room and take the file from his hands. “This is the information you’ll need, including your new pay and details. We are asking that you take at least some of your banked vacation time. You have several months of it, Peña. Our code requires that-”

Javier’s fully aware of this policy. Use it or lose it. Unfortunately, he’d never had much time or want for vacation while chasing Escobar. What would he do? “Yeah, give me a month off,” he said mindlessly as he opened the file and scanned over the front page, in utter disbelief. He registered his surroundings after a second and looked up. “You won’t regret it, sir. Thank you,” he says and shakes the man’s hand before leaving the room.

Now, Javier stands at a payphone outside of the embassy, dialing your number in his pocket. When you pick up and ask who’s there, he laughs happily. “They didn’t fire me!”

“Congratulations,” you laugh as you realize it must be Javier. “What all happened?”

“I actually got promoted,” he admits, the adrenaline and caffeine rushing through his bloodstream. “It was absolutely crazy. They didn’t even mention Los Pepes or anything, just-”

“Are you ready for me to pick you up now?” You ask, cutting him off. “You can tell me the rest over some food. You need it. You didn’t eat that muffin I brought you.”

“What are you, my mother?” He asks dryly, but he’s too excited to be too annoyed. “No, I’ll head back to the hotel. Pick me up in 30 minutes?”

“Sounds great. Congratulations, Javier,” you tell him, grinning into the receiver.

“Call me Javi.”

“Okay… Javi,” you say, biting your lip to hold back from giggling. “I’ll see you then.”

There’s a click and the phone line goes dead. You start giggling happily, flopping back onto the couch. Javier makes his way to the hotel, smiling. He lights up a cigarette, sighing at the way the warmth of the lighter contrasts the cold and snowy air.

Holy fuck. You’re going on what could possibly be considered a date with a really hot guy and you need to get dressed, quick. You hurry around your tiny apartment, throwing on something nice-looking and messing with your hair. You spritz on some perfume, straighten yourself in the mirror, and rush out to the street.

Georgetown is beautiful in the snow, you smile to yourself, but you wince as you realize the snow might slow you down. Your car is a piece of shit, you have to admit, but you love it. Her name is Whitney, in honor of Whitney Houston, and you beg and plead with her to behave as you make your way to Javier’s hotel.

The radio plays some music quietly, and a handsome dark-haired man stands outside of the hotel, smoking a cigarette when you arrive. You flash your high-beams at him and he smiles as he puts out the cigarette and tosses it in the trash. “Hi,” you almost sing as he gets in the car. “Are you a hugger?”

“Am I a what?” He frowns and asks, looking at you.

“Do you like hugs?” You ask, as if it’s obvious.

“I… don’t really receive many. They’re nice, I guess,” he shrugs as he looks you up and down quickly. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he tells you.

Warmth collects in your chest at his words. “Well, thank you. And I ask because I wanted to give you a hug of congratulations. I’m a big hugger,” you shrug a little and tilt your head as you look at him. He looks nice, in a button-up and those tight jeans you saw him in earlier.

A car honks behind you and you jump, awkwardly waving behind you and taking off so the next car can drive up to the hotel. Javier chuckles a little. “Well… I do like hugs, I guess. No one has ever asked me that.”

You look at him briefly, with confusion in your eyes, before they find the road again. “What a sad, sad life,” you chuckle. “I suppose. Are you… like, recently single? Did you date when you were in Colombia?” You ask innocently.

Javier exhales in a light chuckle. “No, never really had a relationship. Lots of flings,” he admits, finding that to be the best word to describe his situation. “But no relationships.”

You nod along, eyes scanning the road as you drive to dinner. “I see.”

“How about you?” He asks, wanting to deflect the attention from himself. That seems to be a common theme with him, you’ve noticed. All the conversations center around you, no matter how hard you try to talk about him.

“Well, no. I haven’t really gone out much or done anything, really. I’m a bit of a homebody, but once I’m out I enjoy it. Problem is you can’t find a date from the couch.”

You reach the restaurant not much later, parking outside. You get out after chatting a little more, and Javi is taken by surprise when you wrap your arms around him in a big hug. “Uh, hi?” He laughs. He instinctively returns it, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed to his. He hasn’t had anything so tender in a long time.

“I told you, it’s a congratulatory hug!” You say with a grin as you squeeze him then break away. “I’m happy for you.”

He smiles down at you. “I… thank you. That was nice.”

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,” you tell him and lead him inside, opening the door and heading into the restaurant.

Javier is a fantastic conversationalist. He tells stories with his hands, vividly explaining stories from the chase for Escobar. He tells you of his partner, Steve, and his crazy methods; about Colonel Carillo, who he still thinks is one of the strongest men he’s ever met; of Stechner, who you already want to gut-punch if you ever meet.

You watch him and admire the way his eyes dart about when he’s telling a story, the way he draws maps on the table with his fingers that you have no hope of understanding.

The food is great but the company is better. Javier’s laugh is a beautiful sound, one rarely heard by others. He listens to you just as attentively, smiling as you talk about the coffee shop, about Georgetown, all of your life.

By the end of the night, it’s easy to declare that you really, really like Javier. You like the way his lips quirk up in a smile, his intelligence and humor. You don’t want the night to end, truly.

When the bill comes, he takes it before you can even try. “Hey, I told you I was paying as a congratulatory dinner,” you frown.

“That can be another dinner,” he says mindlessly as he signs the receipt. “I always pay on the first date.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” You beam at him, tilting your head, eyes twinkling.

He smiles as he looks up at you. “I was thinking it was. I have at least a month off work now, to be wherever I want and I have nothing to do. I’d like to properly take my time to get to know you,” he offers, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“It seems like nothing about you is proper, Javi,” you tease and sip your drink, quirking an eyebrow.

He mirrors you, sipping his drink too. “That’s fair. But we’re in the nation’s capital, I suppose we should be a little more…”

You look at him and try to fill in the blank, smiling. “Practical? Traditional?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what I meant to say there.”

You chuckle a little. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I like the sound of that.”

After dinner, you give Javier a little tour of Georgetown through the windows of your crappy car. The snow from earlier in the day has collected, dusting the tops of window sills and awnings over shop entries. Despite the snow, the car thermometer reads that it’s somewhat warm for the time of year.

There’s one warm little place with glowing lights. Despite the hour of night, it’s clearly open. Javier asks what it is. “Oh, that’s a little bakery,” you comment. “My favorite place, honestly. Their red velvet cupcake is fantastic.”

“That sounds good. I like chocolate more, to be honest,” he comments.

You continue driving for a few seconds, rolling your eyes. “They have a good one there, but it’s so one-dimensional. It’s just chocolate with chocolate on top. Red velvet is the best because you have the cake and the tangy frosting, and-“

“Pull over?” Javier asks, and you look at him in confusion but pull into a parking spot obediently and quickly.

Your eyes are wide in confusion. “What?” You ask him, concerned that something is wrong with the car.

“I’m buying you dessert,” he chuckles and gets out.

Your heart falls then and there for him. If you haven’t already decided, now you know that there’s no turning back. You want Javier Peña with a passion. “Jesus Christ, you could’ve told me that,” you laugh and turn off the car, getting off and bounding behind him. His long legs have already made strides ahead of you, leaving you to catch up.

“You wouldn’t have stopped, would you?” He asks, the gentle snow leaving white flakes on his dark coat. He looks so pretty like this, the warm light from inside the bakery glowing against his dark hair.

You roll your eyes but you’re smiling. “No, maybe not.” He opens the door for you and you thank him and follow him in.

Javier walks to the counter and wastes no time. “Hi. I’ll take two red velvet cupcakes and two large coffees. How do you take yours?” He asks you as you join him at his side.

“From my café,” you tease him, before turning to the woman behind the counter with a polite smile and asking for two sugars and two creams. Javier asks for his black.

The two of you step back while she gets your order ready and you look at him, smiling a little. There are still soft white flakes in his wavy hair, which are slowly melting into water drops.

You don’t know it, but he’s looking at you just the same. He admires you, smiling a little, just enough the quirk up one side of his mouth. “Thanks for buying,” you tell him and step a little closer. He’s warm, you can feel it radiating off of him, and the shop’s blasting cool air throughout.

“Like I said,” he chuckles. “I always buy on the first date.” He reaches out to tuck a strand of your stray hair behind your ear. “Would you want to come up to my hotel room to eat the cupcakes?” He offers.

You shake your head. “I work early tomorrow morning, I shouldn’t.”

Normally, Javier would be disappointed. Normally, he’d want to fuck you on the first date, leave you screaming his name until you can’t help but come back for more. But to his surprise, he doesn’t mind. He has a whole month to be with you, a whole month to fall for the woman he’s already half-lovesick over. “Not a problem,” he nods and walks to the counter as the woman calls that your order is ready.

He hands you a large coffee, and you take a sip of the warm liquid, sighing. “There’s a little shelter out there,” you say, pointing to a bench with an awning above it to keep it clear from the snow. “Do you want to eat them out there?”

Javier half-smiles and nods. “That sounds good.”

It’s warm for the season, but there’s still a cool breeze. You hurry over and sit on the small bench, Javier sitting next to you. The sides of your thighs touch, and you’re both aware of it, the proximity this small bench forces you to squeeze into. Javier sets the box on his lap and opens it, revealing two red velvet cupcakes. “These look delicious.”

“They are,” you grin and pick one up, licking a bit of the frosting off the top and sighing in content with the taste. Javier watches you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the connotation. You look over at him with wide eyes, holding back a laugh. You both break down giggling at the action, your head falling against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to do that like... that, I swear,” you shake your head as you sit up straight again.

“You looked good doing it,” he teases you and bumps your shoulder as you unwrap the paper. “I’m going to save mine for later.”

You frown at him. “Come on. I have to be here when you try the best dessert of all time.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m too full. I’ll have it for breakfast tomorrow or something.”

“Javi,” you whine. “There’s no point of you getting two if we don’t eat them together. You have to eat it, come on.”

Javier looks over at your cupcake, which has one bite taken. “Let me take a little bite of yours then.”

An idea strikes and you nod. “Sure,” you say casually, holding it up for him to eat it. When he goes in to bite it, you move it closer to his face, causing the cupcake to smash into his chin and onto his nose.

Javier thinks he’s the one that missed. “Fuck,” he laughs as he crosses his eyes as he looks down at his nose, seeing the cupcake and frosting smeared on his face. He sees you giggling and laughs. “Hey, you didn’t… what the fuck?” He laughs, bringing his face close to yours. “That was uncalled for.”

“You were being a grump. I had to,” you giggle, your face naturally coming closer to his.

“And we don’t even have napkins,” he shakes his head and looks at you. “How can I clean this up?”

Tilting your head, your eyes dart between his, smiling at the dark brown color and the way they soften under your gaze. “I have an idea,” you murmur, cupping the side of Javier’s face and setting the mashed cupcake back in the box.

Just a moment later, your lips are on his. His eyes have fallen shut and he sighs as you kiss him, a hand finding your waist and pulling you closer to him. He sets the box on the bench behind him and scoots closer, a hand on the side of your neck.

He tastes like coffee and cream cheese frosting, his lips unbearably soft for such a hardened man. You soften him with your touch, when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.

He’s in fucking Heaven, he thinks, murmuring your name against your lips. He knows you already, knows the kind of person you are. He’d figured you’d maybe give a chaste kiss on the first date if you liked the person enough. The voracity of your lips against his tells him you might just reciprocate the intensity of the deep ache in his ribs he feels for you.

After a moment, you break away and smile softly. “I didn’t get all of it,” you frown as you see that there’s still some frosting on Javier’s nose.

“At least now we match,” he teases and wipes your face of some red crumbs that transferred to your chin with the pad of his thumb.

You giggle and press your forehead to his, the warmth of his body perfect against yours in the slight chill of the December night. “Will you come visit me at work again tomorrow?” You ask him.

“Only if you make me a drink that tastes as good as you do.”

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#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #caffeine rush

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perseabethj · 3 years

Text

i don't really have an explanation (i.)

When Percy started his senior year in yet another school, he promised himself he would try his best to make sure nothing strange happened; sure, it wasn’t really up to him monster-wise, but he could at least try not to say anything strange to his new classmates or curse in ancient Greek. Besides, the last two years had been a mess and, with his kidnapping, it was not like he had much to say when he was told to introduce himself the first day of class -‘’hey, my name is Percy Jackson, my dad is a Greek god, and I was kidnapped last year and my memories were erased; oh, and I like blue food!’’. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.

Thus, Percy was known as the quiet and reserved kid in his school. This was a first for him; sure, he’d never had many friends, but he was always causing trouble. This time, however, he knew that Annabeth would kill him if, for any reason, he messed this school year up and he couldn’t go to New Rome University. He made friends -a first, excluding Grover and Tyson, who didn’t really count if you kept in mind that, well, they were his protector and his brother, and a satyr and a cyclops. He didn’t tell his friends much about him -his step-dad was an English teacher, he had been expelled from way too many schools, he had ADHD and dyslexia, he was very athletic, and he was going to try and join the swim team. He made sure to exclude everything that could be linked to his other life -he didn’t talk about his summer camp, his other friends, his huge dog, his father, or his girlfriend; Percy liked how both things didn’t go together, and he felt like it made everything easier. Whenever he talked, he sounded like a normal seventeen-year-old, and he was glad about that. He had had enough of monsters for a lifetime and, even if a hydra or a hellhound bothered him every other day, he could truly say that he could see a future for him and Annabeth that didn’t include them dying in the next five months. All in all, things were good.

When his school organized a homecoming football game, however, he did invite Annabeth; she was in a boarding school in the city, but it wasn’t that hard for her to sneak out with her New York Yankees cap, and he did want her there; it was a milestone for them. After all, Percy wasn’t supposed to reach senior year. They had agreed on meeting at the school; Percy had told Annabeth he’d meet her at the entrance once she texted him that she was close, since he was already at the bleachers with his friends. He wasn’t used to having a phone yet, however, which, in his opinion, gave him an excuse as to why he wasn’t checking his texts. Moreover, his ADHD tended to slow time down for him, so he was pretty sure that he still had thirty minutes before Annabeth was supposed to arrive.

‘’I swear, man, she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,’’ his friend Matthew said, leaning over Kayla so he could see him.

‘’You say that about every girl you meet.’’

‘’I don’t say that about you,’’ Matthew told Kayla, who elbowed him in the ribs and, promptly, shut him up.

Percy couldn’t help but laugh at Louis’s mocking expressions behind Matthew. He’d only known these people for less than a month, but they had accepted him into their little club as soon as they’d met him and he was infinitely grateful. As Louis opened his mouth to, probably, laugh at Matthew over his ability to fall in love at first sight everyday, Matthew and Kayla stopped laughing when they looked at Percy. Percy tensed up, his hand moving to his pocket to make sure that Riptide was with him in case he needed to kill a monster, but, when a pair of arms linked themselves around his shoulders from behind, he tensed up for a whole different reason.

‘’I didn’t think I’d see you here, Jackson,’’ a female voice said playfully close to his ear.

Percy disentangled himself from her arms and turned around to stare Mary in the eye.

‘’An athlete at a football game. Who would have though, right?’’ he ironically said.

Mary rolled her eyes and rested her hand on his shoulder. Percy had to resist the urge to slap it away, but he didn’t want to cause a scene -he knew a lot about causing scenes and, with his luck, slapping her hand away would lead to a monster trying to kill him, and he didn’t want to be expelled before he could even take his first test. He didn’t know what he’d done to gain her attention -she was popular and decidedly pretty, and he was an outcast. He knew he wasn’t bad-looking -if Piper described him as a Greek god once more, he might die; Annabeth telling him that he looked exactly like his father also didn’t help, since the two times Poseidon had shown up in the past year while he was with Annabeth had always led to Percy wondering whether his girlfriend found his father attractive-, and he spent so much time swimming that one would have to be blind not to notice that he had a nice body. However, the whole school knew about his experience with being kicked out of school, since some teachers had made sure to remind him to behave during the first week of classes, and the swim team wasn’t regarded as highly as the football or the hockey team. All in all, he wasn’t a mess -unlike thirteen-year-old Percy-, but he was guarded and serious enough not to attract the attention of preppy girls. Mary, however, seemed to be obsessed with him from the day he got her phone out of the swimming pool after she dropped it while flirting with another guy in his team -‘’keep it wet, keep it wet’’, he’d had to remind himself-, and he regretted being a nice guy ever since then. Honestly, if his mom hadn’t raised him to be such a good kid, most of the problems in his life wouldn’t have happened.

‘’You could sit with us if you wanted,’’ Mary told him, signaling to her girl friends.

Percy knew the invitation only extended to him and not to his friends, who were quiet during the conversation. They had been at that school for three years, so they knew Mary and her gang, and Percy knew they sometimes wondered why he didn’t drop them for the popular kids. He also knew that he would rather face the Minotaur again than sit with the popular kids.

‘’I’m quite happy where I am, thanks,’’ he politely answered, trying to end the chat before he said anything rude.

‘’But you would have more fun with us, I’m sure,’’ Mary insisted, running her finger down his arm.

In moments like this, he almost missed being the young kid he was when he first arrived to camp, skinny and short and with a voice way too high for anyone to consider him a man.

‘’No, thanks,’’ he said again, using his other arm to take his phone out of his pocket, hoping Annabeth wouldn’t take much longer. ‘’Besides, I’m waiting-‘’

‘’Perseus Jackson!’’

‘’Man, I am going to need a massage after this’’, he though as he tensed again. He noticed his friends drive their attention away from Mary, who had also looked towards the origin of the voice with furrowed brows, her finger still on Percy’s arm. Before turning around, Percy quickly looked at the time on his phone, silently cursing in Greek as he saw the multiple texts and missed calls that he clearly hadn’t heard.

‘’Why is there a beautiful blonde goddess walking towards Percy, yelling his full name and looking like she wants to kill him?’’ Matthew quietly asked, forcing Percy to stifle a laugh.

He turned around slowly, half-expecting her to have a dagger at his neck. She was still far enough for him to be able to think of a few excuses, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Man, he had been offended the first time she’d called him Seaweed Brain, but she’d really hit the nail on the head.

‘’I can explain,’’ he said while she was still a few metres away.

‘’Explain, then,’’ she told him, now standing in full height before him. He was quite taller than her, but a standing Annabeth with folded arms and a stormy look in her eyes before a sitting Percy who knew he’d messed up was definitely scary.

‘’I…’’ he started. ‘’I didn’t think I’d get this far, honestly. I think this might be the first time you let me explain and I’m not ready for this responsibility.’’

He knew that was the right answer -her eyes were now shining with mirth and he could tell he was holding back a smile. She still had her arms crossed, but he figured she wasn’t going to kill him in front of so many people, so he tugged at them and forced her to sit next to him before he could regret it.

‘’I really thought it was earlier. You know how I am with the time, and I’m still not used to the phone.’’

She finally unfolded her arms and shook her head as she smiled softly, and Percy knew she wasn’t mad any longer.

‘’The fact that I have experience navigating labyrinths doesn’t mean that I want to navigate your high school, Seaweed Brain,’’ she told him.

‘’Completely understandable, Wise Girl.’’

He threw his arm around her shoulder, all his previous conversations forgotten, and he was about to ask her about her day when another voice interrupted him.

‘’Excuse me, Percy, but who is this?’’ Mary asked from behind him.

Annabeth turned around, a fake smile on her lips as she took in the brunette girl sitting behind her.

‘’His girlfriend,’’ Annabeth said. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’

She offered Mary her hand, though still wrapped around Percy’s arm, and Mary took it automatically, a shocked expression on her face. Her friends looked back between her and Annabeth, equally confused.

‘’His girlfriend?’’ Matthew whisper-yelled.

Both Louis and Kayla nudged him with their elbows, earning a laugh from Percy, which made Annabeth look at them with a raised eyebrow.

‘’Guys, this is Annabeth, my girlfriend,’’ Percy introduced. ‘’Beth, these are Kayla, Matthew and Louis.’’

‘’You’ve mentioned them,’’ Annabeth said, extending her hand and offering a real smile. ‘’It’s nice to meet you. Anybody who manages to put up with Percy deserves to be admired.’’

‘’Hey!’’ Percy whined.

His friends sat there, flabbergasted, but he didn’t really mind. Sure, he could have told them in advance, but he also didn’t think it was that important that he had a girlfriend; he was not the first guy in school to have one, and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t have time to talk any more before the game started, but he did manage to hear Matthew whispering to Kayla and Louis as the players made it to the field.

��’So not only is Percy the hottest guy at school, but he’s also dating the hottest girl in New York? How is that fair?’’

Percy smiled softly and pressed Annabeth closer to him, enjoying her warmth and having her next to him. This was how things were supposed to be.

#percabeth #my writing #percy #annabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fanfiction #i don't really have an explanation

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Black And White (5)

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Summary: You go on the date letting Harry know that there was nothing between the two of you but you’re not ready to forgive Saul so you become petty. Contains a request given a long time ago regarding sparring partners. I won’t be writing the request because it would give away the entire chapter.

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle @baueoud

All the way through getting ready for the date, you feel absolutely sick to your stomach. You don’t want to go on a date with someone else but your ego is hurt badly from Saul telling you to go. You wanted him to tell you the opposite, you wanted him to get upset at the mere thought of someone looking at you the way he does. You never expected him to tell you to go. Once again, your phone buzzes letting you know that another message from Saul ticked in. He’s been texting you every five minutes since you left his room but for you his decision to stay away from your room says more than any text message he might send you.

Once you finish getting ready, you wait another 5 minutes giving Saul time to come stop you but he doesn’t. You try not to feel too hurt but it’s hard not to when your partner won’t even fight for you. Instead you text Harry to let him know that you’re good to go. He texts back the meeting spot and a bunch of inappropriate smileys that you can’t help but laugh at. He’s a little bonkers that one.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.” you introduce yourself to the stranger waiting for you out on the lawn. He smiles showing all his pearly whites and somehow, you already hate him. He’s too slick knowing he’s objectively pretty and thinking it’ll substitute for an actual personality. You see why Harry would like him though. He’s probably one of the lads always up for a good chat about the ladies.

“I’m Jared. Can I just say you look absolutely stunning tonight?” he starts and it gives you the creeps. It’s not so much what he said but the way he said it. He’s been with you for two minutes and it feels like he’s already picturing you without your clothes on.

“Should we get going?” you ask deflecting the question ungracefully. He holds out his arm to lead you through the portal to Solaria. It’s a beautiful restaurant and the food is amazing but you predicted his personality so accurately it’s almost painful. He doesn’t ask you a single question but goes on and on talking about himself and how he always considered himself better than what Alfea could offer which is why he transferred to private tutors right here in Solaria. The wine glass seems to empty quite often in order for you to survive the night.

“I’ve had a great time tonight.” I bet you have, you think to yourself panicking when he leans down for a kiss. In a moment of complete brain freeze, you decide that a sneeze is the best way to avoid it.

“Sorry, I should probably get inside.” You hurry away leaving him hanging outside. Rather than going to bed, you head to Harry’s room and knock on the door.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you ask once he opens the door. Luckily, his room appears empty so you push past him ready to take off your shoes and get comfortable. It’s been a while since the two of you had a sleepover but tonight, you could really use it.

“You didn’t like him?” he asks closing the door before coming over to sit next to you on the bed.

“Like him? How could anyone like him?” you ask making Harry laugh.

“Honestly, I have no idea. I never thought you’d go through with it,” he chuckles confusing you even more. Why would Harry set you up with him if he doesn’t even like him? You narrow your eyes looking at your best friend with a suspicious feeling growing in your stomach.

“Why wouldn’t I go through with it when you vouch for him?” Does he know? How could he know when you and Saul have been so careful not to reveal anything in public? Everything seems a little backwards right now and what you really want is to cuddle up next to Saul and forget all about this but your pride won’t let you do that.

“You tell me?” he smirks and he definitely knows.

“Saul told me to do it.”

“Saul?! You’re dating Saul Silva?!” He’s so shocked that you quickly realise that he definitely didn’t know you were dating Saul.

“I knew you were dating someone and hadn’t told me but... You’re dating Silva?” He can’t believe it and you can’t believe you just told him that you’re dating your teacher. Could tonight get any worse.

“Whatever I just said, I blame it on the wine.” But the damage has been done. There’s no way Harry will let you forget this and while you worry about what Saul might say, you have to admit that it’s really nice to be able to tell someone. You get keeping it a secret until graduation, but you wish you didn’t have to. And lately that feeling have only gotten worse.

“You can blame admitting it on the wine but not the fact that you’re dating our teacher.” He goes to high five you but the look in your eyes is enough for him to abandon that idea.

“So, you sent me on a date that you knew would be horrible to make me confess I was already seeing someone?” you ask trying to figure out exactly what went down tonight.

“I really thought you’d back out before you guys even left Alfea. I felt a little bad.” He holds up his thumb and index finger to indicate the measurement of how bad he felt. It’s not much.

“You’re a dick,” you laugh deciding that you won’t be upset about this. If you hadn’t been fighting with Saul, you might even have thought it was a fun prank. Instead you opt for climbing under the duvet and going to sleep. Harry stays on the floor not even considering the idea of you two sharing a bed which you really appreciate. He can be a gentleman for the right person.

“Wake up.” The sun has made a reappearance way too soon but you know you can’t go back to sleep. Classes will be starting soon where you’ll have to face Saul.

“I have a plan that might make up for last night. But it’s very petty.” Your ego likes petty at the minute. He fills you in as you head towards the training grounds. When you arrive, you don’t even look in Saul’s direction instead focusing on Harry.

“Have you been working out?” you ask touching his biceps even though everything in you is screaming for you to stop, you keep going. Harry is like family and while this feels so wrong, his smile tells you that someone else is definitely annoyed by it. Your back is to Saul but that means that Harry can watch him.

“Tightening his grip in the staff,” he informs you at the same time letting you know that you can up your game.

“Fight me,” you whisper crawling into the ring. It’s the silliest training you’ve ever done. Instead of actually trying, you and Harry just roll around laughing and having fun. None of you put anything more into it than wanting to piss Saul off but it’s still weird.

“I surrender,” you scream when he starts tickling you.

“You two, my office!” he snaps and you have to bite your lip from laughing. Harry’s plan worked a charm and while you probably should feel a little bad for agitating him like this, you’re mostly just satisfied that you finally got the reaction you wanted him to have when you told him about the date.

“I’ll be expecting to see you in detention for the next three Saturdays. Training is not a joke and I refuse to let anyone behave the way you two did out there.” You can’t even look at Harry in fear of laughing out loud while Saul is screaming at you. He’s clearly very upset but you don’t feel bad. He started this.

“Harry, you’re excused.” He sends you a look when he gets up to leave which you return with a wink.

“See you,” he says letting his hand rest on your shoulder for just a second longer than necessary. Don’t laugh, you tell yourself wanting to enjoy jealous Saul a little longer before you admit what really happened out there.

“What the hell was that?” he sneers very upset.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Harry is my best friend, we were having a laugh.” You try to ask innocent secretly swooning over just how hot he is when he’s jealous.

“Don’t play dumb with me. Why were you flirting with him?” There’s a fire burning in his eyes that you’ve really missed. All you want is for him to admit that you’re his and he’s yours. You know it’s wrong and that no one can claim another person but somehow, you and Saul have anyway.

“Sorry. I just thought it would act as a good cover. You know, so people don’t ask any questions.” You’re enjoying this far too much but really, it’s just your bruised ego talking.

“Well, that little stunt just cost you me.” That wipes the smile of your face.

“What?” you ask thinking that you can’t have heard him correctly. He can’t seriously mean that he’s willing to end things over this. It’s an argument and sure, it’s one of the big ones but you figured you’d get through it like you have with anything else.

“I’m not doing this childish thing you’re trying to do,” he says with a hollow tone.

“I’m done.”

#saul silva x reader #saul silva blurb #saul silva gif #saul silva imagine #saul silva #winx saul silva #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #fate the winx club #winx saga #winx club #fate winx #fate

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adhd-adept · 3 years

Note

I have self diagnosed adhd and i was wondering if you could provide some advice regarding reading. I used to be able to just pick up a book and read when i was younger, but now that I'm older it's a bit difficult to just pick up a book and read for the sake of reading. I love reading, but i just can't seem to motivate myself to.

Any advice? I'd really love to get back into reading, but I'm trying to find a way to do it easier

Hello! I’m sorry this took me so long to answer, I’ve been mostly off Tumblr for a little while. I saw this some time ago at 3AM and thought “this deserves a more coherent response than I can give right now” and then forgot that this blog existed for several days.

That said, I absolutely have some advice for reading! I was a big reader as a kid, too, and I’ve recently had to re-discover reading after a long gap in any time spent sitting down with an honest-to-goodness book. There are a number of things you might consider!

DISTRACTIONS

First and foremost, recognize the reason it is difficult to read! For me, it is because reading isn’t the most interesting thing available. That doesn’t mean I don’t love reading! If I can manage to sit down and read a book, it is immensely satisfying - but it’s the satisfaction of the effort you put into something paying off. My favorite hobbies - drawing, writing, reading - are my favorite because of that sense of accomplishment that they give me.

I love the feeling of holding a book and watching my bookmark move through the pages each time I set it down. However, it doesn’t give me the same instant gratification of reading wikipedia, or tvtropes, or scrolling Tumblr, or checking notifications on social media; even when I am unsatisfied, or even frustrated, with the internet, it can be very hard to put down. I know that people will tell you all the time “You need to put your phone down more!!” It gets old. But they have a point. What people don’t tell you is how to do that.

For me, that tends to be about making it inconvenient for myself to get online, or do whatever is distracting me. This doesn’t necessarily mean making it completely unavailable. The distraction just needs to be less available than the task I want to do. I am the kind of person who gets online out of muscle memory, and then gets stuck there. Thus, many of my tricks rely on disrupting the muscle memory that lets you pick up distractions. I will put my laptop charger in another room, so that my screen time is limited to its battery life. I might tie a string around my laptop, or tape it closed, so when I go to open it I will be reminded “Oh yeah, I don’t want to do this right now.” I will occasionally rearrange the apps on my phone, so when I try to open Instagram and end up with the weather app instead, the thought of “wait, how did i get here” will snap me out of the thoughtless habits that led me to pick up my phone in the first place. I’ve even gone so far as to tape my phone to the ceiling. Whatever works.

If the weather permits, I might also walk a little ways down the block and find somewhere to sit and read. This can come with its own distractions, but it gets me away from my laptop, and I get a tiny bit more exercise and sunshine than I would have otherwise! This depends, of course, on whether you have transportation and whether you feel safe. But getting yourself out of the house can be a great way to get away from the things that would otherwise draw you away from reading. If you have a local cafe or library that permits you to sit and stay, those are also great options! I will bring my phone when I leave the house, but I might put it at the bottom of my bag, or put a bit of scotch tape over the power button, so that I have my phone in case of emergency but it’s just slightly inconvenient to get to without thinking about it.

It may not be the internet distracting you. But whatever the distraction is, it doesn’t need to be less compelling than reading. It just needs to be less readily available than your book is!

ENTHUSIASM

Another thing that prevents me from reading is that it often doesn’t have the same sense of urgency that other tasks might, whether that urgency is real or not. Give yourself a time limit! I may own books I haven’t read yet, but I will get to a book sooner if I have borrowed it from the library, because I know there is a deadline to return it!

You can also get other people involved. If you have a friend who wants to read the same book, commit to a chapter or two a week and then call to discuss it.

Or, if you have a friend who would be interested, and you are comfortable with your reading voice, you could read to someone! It might feel weird to offer, but you’d be surprised how many people really do enjoy being read to. If you both have time in your schedules, you could try to set up a regular call to get through a few chapters at a time.

Generally, having a friend who likes the book is great for maintaining enthusiasm, even if they’re not reading it with you - I get to books faster if someone with similar taste says “This is one of my favorites! You would love it!” If you have a friend who has read the book you plan on reading, announce to them that you intend on reading it. Their enthusiasm might help you feel more compelled to read it, and there’s a good chance that if you don’t sit down and read it, they will remind you by asking “Have you read it yet? What do you think?” the next time you talk to them.

PREPARATION

Another great way to make reading easier is to set up a reading space beforehand. It’s one thing to pick up a book and say “I’ve been meaning to read this.” It’s another thing to put on some pajama pants, make a cup of tea, and curl a soft blanket around your shoulders before you settle down to read. For one thing, it’s just nice. But more importantly, it can function as a signal that tells your brain “it is Reading Time now. We are in the Reading Zone.”

Do you ever watch a TV show or listen to a podcast, and you let the theme song play on the first episode, and then skip it for the rest? Even if I’ve watched a show before, I will play the theme song on the first episode I watch that day. It’s the same principle - it serves as a transition, an intro that says “this is where I am now, and this is what I’m doing.” Give yourself an intro for reading! Have a certain spot that you like to sit when you read. Have a certain snack you eat beforehand.

I have all kinds of tasks with little “rituals” before them that help me focus on that task, or certain items that I interact with which I associate with it. I call them “declarations of intent,” and once I’ve made a declaration it’s easier to commit to it. Sometimes that means simply saying out loud, “I am going to do the laundry now.” Sometimes it means I wear a certain shirt if I’m planning to go for a walk that day, or drink from a certain mug at breakfast if I want to get some homework done. I have a specific hat that I put on when I want to write a certain character. Try to find something you can do to act as a cue that says “When I do this, then I will read a book.” Because of this, it can help to really lean into whatever the “aesthetic” of reading is, in your mind. Embrace a reading atmosphere!

It may also help to recognize that reading is something you can work your way up to! There is no shame in being out of practice with a hobby. I took my reading proficiency for granted for a long time because it was just a part of my life. It may help to think of reading as a skill! Start with something smaller and work your way up. Pick up a book of short stories or folktales before you tackle that six-book series you’ve heard good things about! Set achievable goals for yourself when you’re setting out. An early success can make a huge difference to morale, and it’s much better to start “too easy” and accomplish something than to jump in at the deep end and be frustrated by an early setback.

FORGIVENESS

On the topic of working your way up to things, I would like to say a word about mindset. It is easy to feel self-critical about things. Things that you think should come more easily to you. Things that you feel like you have no reason not to be able to do. One of the biggest things I’ve done for my ADHD is recognizing that there is always a reason why I behave a certain way. Accepting that allows me to actually address my struggles, rather than just feeling ashamed of them. I’ve had to accept that I won’t always do things that I set out to do the way I set out to do them.

I bring this up because not all of my advice here may work for you. In fact, some of it doesn’t work for me every time - a technique may work once, but I might fail to make a regular habit of it. I may make a regular habit of something, only to have it become less effective as the novelty of it, or my enthusiasm for it, wears off. I may eventually talk myself out of implementing an effective strategy because there is some part of it that I find unpleasant; or an intentional unpleasantness I once found motivating may eventually become intolerable.

That’s okay. I’m telling you now, it’s okay if that happens. It’s okay if the first method you try doesn’t work. Don’t set yourself up to feel frustrated. If you become frustrated, take a step back. If you borrow a library book and you still haven’t read it by the due date, just give it back. If you don’t actually enjoy the first book you pick up, put it down and try a different one. If you feel badly about not reading something your friend wants you to read, be honest and tell them you have a hard time sitting down, and that you don’t want to disappoint them if they keep asking, but that you will let them know once you have started it!

It can be easy to convince myself that feeling badly about something means it’s important to me, and that maybe if I feel bad about not doing something, it motivate me to do it. There is a balance between making commitments, and not committing to anything that is just going to distress me. Sometimes there is a benefit to a sense of pressure, but I have to recognize when the pressure I create turns into frustration. That’s a fine line to walk! For all I speak of inconveniencing yourself, or holding yourself accountable, your strategies should ultimately feel satisfying, and show results fairly quickly! You may not see immediate results, but if it has been several days and your strategy isn’t working out, change tactics! And the moment you feel apologetic or ashamed about the thing you are trying to do, drop that strategy. Again, this can be easier said than done, but it is so worthwhile to learn how to allow yourself to “give up” on things that aren’t actually helping you, without feeling like you’re giving up entirely.

You want to get back into reading again because you want to enjoy reading again. If you set it up to feel like homework, or a chore, or an obligation, you may make it more difficult for yourself! Getting back into reading is about focusing on what you love about reading.

And hey, I’m always happy to help! I do only check Tumblr every couple weeks right now, but I’ll do what I can to be supportive. If you’ve tried these suggestions and they don’t work out, no worries! Everyone is different, and it’s no insult to me if things that work for me don’t work for you. But feel free to reach out again, let me know anything you have learned about how you function best in the meantime, and we can reevaluate your strategies!

I hope that helps! Happy reading!

#thanks for asking!!#nezjazz #let me know how this works out #a lot of the advice i have for reading is advice i have for Doing Tasks With ADHD in general to be honest #i use the same tricks i use to get myself to read sometimes to get myself to do things like wash dishes #it's about making yourself more interested in what you want yourself to do #and making it easier to do the important things relative to the ease of doing the less important things #i will just straight up delete apps off my phone if i spend too much time on them #most of the time i dont miss them #and tumblr i can access from my laptop it's just slightly more steps to actually log in and type in my password #(i ONLY use tumblr on incognito mode so it doesnt save my login and i have to actually enter my password every time)#(that way i know that if i actually take the steps to log on it's because i WANT to)#(because something about doing that is worth it to me)#(i did that today to come and answer this question lol)#(but that's also why it's taken me so long.)#(do let me know if you have any other questions! i'll be back eventually to help as best i can!)#(and i love feedback)#(if you discover something that works better for yourself let me know that too so i can share with everyone!)

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 3 years

Text

James Potter Supremacy

“James Potter is a bully toe rag. He was a bad person”

“Peter followed him around like a puppy. James treated him like shit, that’s why Peter betrayed him”

James yawned laying back on the chair. He couldn’t study anymore. He was done.

“Alright, Wormy. We need to sleep a bit to be bright and fresh tomorrow”

James looked at Peter. He seemed pale, tired, stressed nearly about to cry.

“Go ahead, James. I’m gonna stay for a little while”

“Mate, you need to rest. We’ve been in The Library all the bloody afternoon”

Peter shook his head, staring at his book.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure Pads and Moony are done shagging by now” he laughed a bit at his own joke.

But Peter didn’t laugh.

“That’s my point” Peter sniffed “We’ve been here the whole bloody afternoon and nothing seems get into my brain….” Peter was pulling his hair “I’m so stupid”

“You’re not stupid”

“I’m probably gonna fail. You guys are gonna get tops marks in everything and I might have to repeat the whole year again”

“Hey, hey…” James said facing his friend “Don’t discourage yourself Pete. You’re very intelligent”

Peter snorted.

“Yeah you are” James said “You’ve done incredible pranks with us…”

“None of them were my ideas…”

“What about the time we changed gravity in The Great Hall?”

“Moony’s idea”

“You turned into you know what, for Moony’s you know what furry little problem”

James turned around to see if someone was around, luckily no.

“I had your help”

Shit. Peter was so negative and down. James knew perfectly well that to cheer Pete up, they had to preach him, tell him he was doing things right. James tried to do that all the time. But there were times when Peter just didn’t believe him. That nothing could make him cheerful again.

“Okay” James said opening his own book “Page one hundred and forty what was it?”

“Forty-two”

James opened the page.

“Conjuration. Let me guide you up” James said

“I thought you were tired…”

“I’m gonna revise again, this test is gonna be difficult you’re right”

It would be easy piecey. Minnie usually asked a few questions and then they were supposed to write a little essay on the topic of their choice.

“But…”

“I made this helpful summary, I’m gonna read it. You should write this down”

Peter looked at James, then he smiled.

“You’re an imbecile”

“Don’t need to insult me Wormy, I’m bloody studying…”

“You…”

“Shh”

And James began reading. He didn’t have a summary but he tried to explain the subject as easy as possible.

Peter nodded and scribbled things on his parchment.

After a few hours. James pretended to study again. Actually, he was reading the same line over and over again. He already knew this stuff. And he was so bloody tired. But Peter seemed to be concentrating more, he muttered things to himself as he wrote them down. James smiled.

I knew you could do it, Pete.

Finally, both boys were kicked out if The Library by Madame Pince.

As they headed back to The Gryffindor Tower. Peter seemed to be relaxed. Cheeks flustered and a little smirk on his face.

James’ heart warmed up.

“Wow, thank you Pete. I needed that revision. I had so many things wrong”

He didn’t want Peter to think he had made James stay with him for nothing.

“Cheers James. You’re a good friend”

James smiled as he rubbed his friend’s hair.

“Come on, I deserve a kiss”

“What?”

“Just a little peek on the cheek, come one” James joked as he pointed to his cheek.

“No way”

“You said I was a good friend”

“Keep dreaming…” Pete rolled his eyes and walked away.

“Oi! Pettigrew! Just give in to my sweet face and give me a kiss”

“Shut up Potter” Peter laughed

“You shut up” James laughed as well

“Remus just stands James for what he did for him. But James was a bully. Remus should’ve stopped being friends with someone like that”

“Where’s Sirius?”

Remus asked as James approached him after Charms.

“With another girl” James rolled his eyes.

Moony’s face went down adopting a sad expression. It had happened before, when James mentioned Sirius’ girlfriends. James knew something was happening. James was no stupid. He knew his boys pretty well.

“And Pete?”

“Chess club”

Remus just nodded.

“It’s just you and me handsome” James winked.

Remus smiled a little.

“Why are you so gloomy to spend an evening with me? Am I that horrible?”

“Yes, James. You’re a nightmare” Remus said smiling

“Oi!”

“As long as you don’t talk about Quidditch, or Lily…”

“Bloody tosser”

James and Remus had dinner together.

“Did you notice how pretty Evans looks?”

James couldn’t avoid noticing her hair was longer, with soft curls all over it. Pretty.

“Why did I say about the Lily talk?”

“Fucking twat”

Remus laughed as he chewed.

James noticed he looked kind of sick and pale.

“Do you want my chocolate tart?” he asked “I think I’m full”

Remus beamed at that “Yes, please”

James smiled as he passed him the dessert.

Good Moony, eat up. You look miserable.

Sirius entered The Great Hall. His hair was a mess and his shirt slightly opened. Cheeks kind of red. Fucking wanker.

“Hello lads” he sat down serving himself some Pumpkin juice.

“I’m guessing you already ate, Padfoot” James commented

Sirius smirked.

James noticed Remus flinched beside him. He looked pissed.

“I have to say it, Ravenclaws might be studious and all, but they definitely know what they are doing” he winked.

James hated when Sirius behaved like this. He was an imbecile, playing to be cool and a fuckboy.

“You’re a wanker”

Sirius laughed.

“I’m glad you had fun, Padfoot” Remus said sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, Moony. I’m all yours now…”

“You know what? I was fine without you. Enjoying my tart, and you needed to come and ruin it”

“Lads…” James said

“Wow… Someone is not in a good mood. I thought the full moon wasn’t until next week…”

“FUCK YOU SIRIUS”

“Rem…”

“What am I doing? I just came here to share dinner with my friends, and you started insulting me”

“Then go! Bloody go with your new sweetheart or whatever…”

“Prongs…” Sirius complained

James raised his shoulders “I don’t know what’s going on…”

“You know what? I might go with Pru and have dinner with her…”

“I’m not stopping you!”

“You’re such a tosser Moony…”

“Thank you very much…”

“I can’t believe you’re on his side, James”

“I’m not in anybody’s side”

Sirius rolled his eyes and left furiously.

“Sirius…” James called after him.

But Sirius ignored him.

James raised an eyebrow to Remus.

“What was that all about?”

“I’m sick of him bragging about girls”

“Moony…”

“I’m not longer hungry” he stood up “I’m gonna go to the dorm”

“I’m coming with you”

As they were walking back, Remus stopped. And he leaned on the wall with pain.

“What is it Remus?”

“I’m fine.”

“Remus…”

“My hip hurts a bit”

“Let’s go The Hospital Wing”

“James, it’s nothing…”

“Don’t be stupid, Remus”

James hated when Remus didn’t take care of himself. He was clearly in pain, and he didn’t want to do anything about it.

“Remus…”

“Jus’ take me to the dorm, James”

James let Remus leaned on him as he placed his arm around him.

“This is ridiculous”

“Shut up, Lupin. You should be pleased you’re in this position with me. Anyone would kill to be on your shoes”

Remus laughed “Tosser”

James was smiling now. He loved making his friends happy.

“I’m still worried though”

“I’m okay…”

James didn’t insist. They got to their dorm and James helped Remus lay down in bed. James made Remus swallow a relaxing potion his mum had given him in case of any stress. Remus needed to sleep for a bit. Remus must’ve known what it was because he didn’t complain.

“Cheers”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…”

“I’m fine, really” Remus smiled

“Moony…”

“Prongs…”

James sat down on Remus’ bed. He rubbed his friend’s hair gently.

“Sirius will stop seeing all those girls” he said “He’s gonna come back to us”

To you.

James saw Remus closing his eyes, the potion was taking effect now.

“You’re a good friend, Prongs” Remus said before drifting to sleep.

“James and Sirius were a pair of stupid boys who didn’t give a shit about anyone. Popular rich boys in a good position to bully others”

James waited for Sirius to come back. The letter he had received from his parents this morning must’ve been bad, because after that, Sirius disappeared all day. Remus seemed to be bloody worried, he had insisted on coming with James, but he didn’t let him. He had instructed Pete to take care of him. Remus needed to rest. The full moon had been the day before.

James considered having a smoke while he waited. But he thought better of it, he didn’t know how. And he didn’t want to go back and ask Remus for one.

Finally, James saw the figure of Sirius coming to the castle.

“Where were you?”

Sirius’ eyes looked puffed. He had been crying.

“Having a romantic moonlight walk by myself” Sirius laughed “You didn’t have to wait for me, Prongs”

Sirius wanted to walk by but James stopped him.

“Just stop with this, Pads”

“With what?”

“You can fool anyone in the world. Not me”

Sirius snorted “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

James was getting impatient.

“I’m very offended, Pads”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think I ever did or said anything to make you believe that you have behave like this idiot fuckboy who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone…”

Sirius looked hurt “I…”

“Why are you behaving like this around me?”

“Prongs…”

“I KNOW YOU CARE, PADFOOT”

James didn’t mean to yell but he didn’t know what else to do. Sirius jumped.

“I know you care about your parents and it affects you whatever they say on those letters… I know you miss Regulus that you love him despite all….”

Sirius looked down.

“I know you don’t give a shit about any of those girls… You know? You’re hurting Moony…”

Sirius looked up at that. His eyes were glittery. He was biting his inner lip to avoid crying. James knew him too well.

“I didn’t mean to”

“Sirius you’re not made of stone. You’re allowed to feel”

Sirius shook his head.

“You…you don’t understand…”

“I do…”

“I have… I have expectations… Everyone is looking at me…”

“Fuck what they think…”

“I’m so…I’m so scared” Sirius had tears on his eyes.

“Pads… I’m your best friend. I don’t care if you break down…”

Sirius kept shaking his head.

“Sirius…” James said more softly “Come here…” he opened his arms.

“I…”

“Come here”

James hugged Sirius. His friend seemed to be tense between his arms.

“It’s okay to cry, Sirius. I’m not gonna judge”

“James…” Sirius whispered before bursting into tears.

“It’s okay Pads. I’m here” James whispered “I’m always gonna be here”

Sirius sobbed even more on his shoulder. Letting out everything he had been accumulating.

Later, as they approached the Portrait Hall, Sirius stopped James.

“Why would do without you James?”

James smiled.

“I honestly don’t bloody know. I take you ass out of the worst situations”

Sirius laughed.

“I do care about Moony” he said looking down, and kind of blushing? “I never intended to hurt him. He is one of my best friends…”

“But not your best friend, right? That’s me”

Sirius smiled “That’s you”

James smiled back “You should tell him then. Just fix things with Moony…”

Sirius nodded.

James entered the Common Room, climbing up to their dorm. Sirius followed. Before James opened the door, he turned to look at Sirius, he smiled and winked, letting him know everything was okay. And back to normal.

Then James opened the door.

“Hello boys…. Who fancies having his ass beaten by me in an Exploding Snap Game?”

“Lily should never have chosen James. He was a bully who molested her best friend and couldn’t take a no for an answer”

James didn’t particularly like Petunia. And he knew she hated him. And then it was Vernon, Petunia’s fiancé. James seemed to irritate Vernon with only his mere presence. He was eyeing at James with such furry and disgust, and he wasn’t even trying to be discreet. James felt uncomfortable.

Petunia was talking about their apparent perfect life. They had bought a new muggle car, that seemed to be a thrill for muggles. Vernon had been promoted on his job; James didn’t know what he did. He had explained but James didn’t seem to understand, it sounded boring. They were talking about the preparations for their upcoming wedding.

Lily seemed tensed. She had tried to comment and congratulate her sister. But that bitch shut her up. James was about to take his wand out and jink the shit out her. But he didn’t want to look like a mental on Lily’s house. And they were all muggles. James had to behave like a gentleman.

Lily’s hand moved nervously under the table. James took it on his own. Lily finally looked at him. James smiled. Lily smiled back grateful to have him here.

After dinner, James thanked Mr. and Mrs. Evans over and over again for the delicious dinner. Mr. Evans was nice. Mrs. Evans seemed to be a bit awkward around him. Lily had told him she acted like that around everyone magical.

The Evans started to be very busy with Petunia’s wedding. Her and her mother discussed about dresses and other stuff. They talked about decoration, food, music all that. As if James didn’t know some spells to prepare a ceremony in seconds. Poor muggles, James loved having magic.

Lily seemed sad, she felt out of place as she watched her family discuss those things.

“James, can we go somewhere else?” pleaded

“Of course”

James took Lily’s hand and dragged her to the kitchen. They needed to hide from the muggles to be able to apparate.

“Where do want to go?”

“Anywhere but here” Lily said with tears in her eyes.

James wiped them up gently, before apparating. James took Lily to The Potter’s beach house. It was the only place he could think of. It was his happy place. He had so many memories there. As soon as they got there, Lily began pacing.

She snorted

“They have the nerve… They just keep celebrating and being happy about Petunia and her wedding… And they don’t have any idea of what a horrible world we are living in”

James knew what she was talking about. The war. James and Lily had decided to join Dumbledore’s Order after graduation and fight.

“I have explained it to them… I really have. What I would do” Lily continued “And they just don’t understand. They don’t seem to care actually”

“Hey, Lils…”

“I mean until they don’t see something on the telly they won’t believe it, but there won’t be something on the telly… Fuck…”

“Lils…”

“And Petunia is now the golden girl because she is going to get married.... Since when getting married is better than giving up your life to fight for something good…”

“Lily…” James had reached her. He made her stop and look at him.

“And I’m doing this for them! James! I’m fighting for them!”

James smiled, stroking her hair.

“You need to yell”

“What?”

“You need to let it all out”

“I don’t…” Lily snorted

“Let me show you”

James took out his wand and performed a silent charm on the house.

“Now you can yell all you want without no one bothering you”

“I’m not gonna do that” Lily smiled

“Why not? You’re gonna feel better, trust me”

“James…” Lily bit her lip

“Like this… Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”

James yelled. Lily laughed at him.

“Your turn”

Lily shook her head. She was smiling behind her sweater sleeve.

“Come on, babe. Trust me”

Lily took a deep breath before yelling.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

James laughed amused at his girlfriend.

“FUCK YOU PETUNIA!! FUCK YOU SNAPE!! FUCK EVERYONE!”

“FUCK EVERYONE!”

“FUCK EVERYOOOOONEEEEEE!!”

They both laughed. Then James pulled Lily towards him.

“Fuck everyone but you” she whispered now

James kissed her.

“I’m so in love with you Lily”

Lily smiled so beautifully that James’ heart jumped on his chest.

“How long that spell lasts?” she asked

“An hour or so, why?”

Lily blushed “Perfect. Let see if you make good silencing charms”

James’ face was on fire, he was sure he was bright red.

Lily laughed. And then she kissed him so fiercely, like she never had done before.

James heart was jumping on his chest. He was so in love with Lily that sometimes it scared him.

Lily began unbuttoning James’ shirt. He took it off.

Oh, bloody hell. He had had sex before but not with Lily. He was bloody nervous. What if fucked it up? James found himself breathing nervously and shaking for some reason.

Lily took off her sweater and dress. And she stood there only on her underwear. Lily smiled embarrassed.

“Oh shit…”

James sighed because he had no other words to say. But before he could say anything else, Lily kissed him again.

They laid on the nearest couch. James on top of her. He was still shaking, like a tosser. Why did this happen to him? He was supposed to be confident. But James was nervous, he really didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lily didn’t seem to notice. She seemed to confident and sexy, even though James knew it was her first time.

She smiled stroking James’ cheek. They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Are you sure about this, Lils?”

James was surprised on how shaken his voice sounded.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life” she said “I love you, James”

James was out of breath for a second.

“I love you too”

And James proceeded to kiss Lily’s lips, then Lily’s neck and breasts… He needed to warm up his body to avoid shaking.

“Oh James…” Lily sighed as he kissed her body.

This would be one of the most precious moments in James’ life. He was completely in love.

#harry potter #Marauders #maraudersera #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #peter pettigrew #Lily Evans #jily #james potter supremacy #marauders fanfiction

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fallenhero-rebirth · 4 years

Text

Brain update

First, let me say that this isn't about what anybody has done. My reactions are not in proportion to anything that has happened, and might be considered odd, weird and sensitive to people involved.

So let me explain.

I'm an Aspie (what we call ourselves in Sweden), on the autism spectrum. Yeah, might have guessed that from the story I'm writing, Sidestep is not the only one trying to figure out how people work.

Over the years I have built up an arsenal of knowledge and analysis to be able to pretend to be neurotypical, something that I can manage alright most days, but which breaks down once you get to know me better. I'm open with this at my current job, and luckily both my bosses seem to be okay dealing with open communication and just telling me what I need to do.

It was not always like this, and that is one of the reasons why I had a breakdown and needed to get off discord/tumblr.

Back in the late nineties, I had finally got my dream job. I was a product developer in the food industry, part of a rather small department of middle-class academics. I was the new hire, everyone else had worked there for years, and things were going well. Or so I assumed. I got cool projects, got along well with one of the sales people, and well, my boss was weird but bosses always are.

Three years later. Our parent company wanted to sell us off, everyone was starting to get worried about their job. We tried to expand into things were weren't equipped to do (you don't bring spices into a fruit jam line, will be hell to clean) and while I did the projects, I also raised an (in retrospect) too big stink about the fact that we were wasting time developing things we couldn't produce without expanding. My boss (who I had learned was a devout christian) started to get really weird, I got called in and he wondered if I was a member of a cult (I was often wearing a headscarf at the time because pressure on my head is good for stress relief). I also got told off for wearing army boots to work (we had lab shoes in the lab), because (I kid you not) if we had danish visitors to the lab (we didn't have visitors) they could be offended since they had once been occupied by Nazis. Yes, at the time I was an Antifa metalhead/satanist, it was a very volatile time in sweden and nazis were everywhere. Now they're a political party, go figure.

It all came to a head when I was confronted with a folder one of the secretaries of the department had where she had written down every odd and strange thing that I did, and there were a lot of accusations of things I quite frankly blocked out. Around this time I was suffering from bad burnout, had memory loss, my hair was falling out and I lost two bikes because I forgot where I parked them. All because of workplace hostility.

So for the first time ever, I went to the company doctor, who immediately sent me on a one month sick leave, and gave a reference to a therapist. When I went and told my boss, his reaction was "It can't be anything at work," in a dismissive tone. I wrote my resignation right then and there, left the building, snuck back a Saturday to clean out my stuff so I didn't have to meet anyone. Luckily I was backed up by my union, so I got unemployment despite quitting, and the therapist helped me get back on my feet and hook me up with some antidepressants.

Still, I was a wreck for years.

At the time, I had NO idea I was an Aspie. It weren't talked about, the only thing I knew about Autism, was from the various portrayals in movies, and well, in the nineties you can guess. Rainman pretty much was it.

What destroyed me the most was not that people disliked me, I didn't like them either, we didn't have anything in common, and middle-class people always scared me. No, what broke me was the fact that my system failed.

See, I had built up myself over ten years into someone I wanted to be. Smart. Capable. Metalhead. Researcher. Activist. I thought I knew the rules. How to interact.

It turned out I knew nothing. People had been talking behind my back for years, and I didn't know. Getting annoyed by my ticks, and I had no idea. Nobody ever brought anything up to my face until it exploded one day out of the blue. This is why I have ranted about anons on this tumblr. This is why I have been so openly against passive aggressive posts and bullying, especially the anonymous kind, because it destroys people and I don't think the people who does it knows the impact they can have. I hope they don't.

I have never gone back to the lab. I can't. I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about it when I'm writing this. I retrained. Became a machinist. Back to the working class I came from. Eventually started writing.

And this is exactly what these last months have felt like.

I thought I understood things. I was pretty open with being old, an Aspie, not understanding memes, or humor, or tik tok, or certain aspects of people's behavior like jealousy, but the problem with joking about this is that it's so easy to take as just a joke. That I'm just making fun of myself (oh it's that too). I got advice from some of you, which I ignored, because I thought that I could be different. That there was no danger in getting close. That I could be just another voice in the crowd. An occasionally evil avocado. That this couldn't blow up in my face, that everything was cool.

And then it did. And I was wrong. And the talking started, and things were coming out that I had no idea that was going on. That I was being held responsible for. Opinions that were spoken in my name. Events I was supposed to have been aware of and supported. All of a sudden I was omniscient, aware of the true passive aggressive meaning of every reblog, aware of every post in every room in the discord I wasn't even running. Wasn't even a mod on. All of a sudden I had power, and I had used it to hurt people. The people I cared about. Everything I wrote was taken in the worst possible way, twisted into things I never meant, and the more I tried to talk to people, the worse it went.

Look. I know this was at heart a war between people that just doesn't like each other and the things they do/the ways they behave. I'm still not entirely sure who's been involved, and I'm not interested in finding out. I tried to build a supportive space, reblog everyone's art and fics, encourage people to make their own things, get a kofi, get some money, make some friends.

And herein lies my problem.

I thought I understood how to be, and now I don't. I have no idea who hates my guts and who doesn't (well, except some who has very vocally let me know). I can't trust anything. I can't trust anyone. And it sucks. Someone I trusted stabbed be in the back because they were convinced I stabbed them in the back and that sucks more than I can describe. Every time I make a comment on AO3 or twitter it's after psyching myself up for half an hour, and I'm usually a wreck afterwards, because my brain doesn't know if they hate me too, and if I am imposing on them and making their day bad.

So yeah. I need to figure out how to be. How not to have a nausea attack every time I accidentally click open tumblr from pure reflex, looking away from the screen just not to see how may messages I have.

I never wanted to be the aloof author, but maybe I have to be. The question is if I can. I have been told I can't comment on pics or fics, because then I have favorites. And that makes people jealous. And it makes people think I take sides. I have been told I can't be on the discord, because then I will be held responsible for what the mods do there, and everything that's said even when I'm not around. I should apparently have someone manage the tumblr, it's not something that I, an author should do.

I now understand the authors who just stay away and remain distant, because people give themselves the power to write the narrative for you.

Part of me wants to tell people what I've told my current bosses, don't assume, just talk to me. I don't pick up/do passive aggression, I don't understand hints, I have trouble with nuance, I don't listen to gossip, I don't interact enough to know anything that's going on. Just ask before assuming.

Except that right now I can't. I can't talk about any of this. It's too close. It sets me off. It's getting better, sure, I'm on medication again, but the smallest thing still can ruin my entire day. I have no idea how long it will take me to recover and come back to some semblance of normality. I'm not posting this myself (my partner does). Writing is going well, because it lets me not be myself. I need those walls again. The therapy of writing about pain.

I'll rebuild them. I'm not entirely sure who I'll be on the other end of it. We'll see.

I have consciously not spoken about any details because those could be misunderstood, this is not a passive aggressive callout to anybody. I have no hard feelings towards anyone, I am not angry or upset, just confused and sad. I am truly so very, very, very sorry that I've hurt people, both by action and inaction. It was never my intention. I will do my best to do better in the future.

Still working on how to do that.

#personal

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whitesparrows97 · 4 years

Text

Heartstring Melodies – Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, College AU, fuckboy!Yoongi

Summary: Min Yoongi, the fuckboy of the whole college and the guy all girls fall for, should be your soulmate? You don’t believe that, you don’t want to believe that. Therefore, you and your best friend make a pact: She pretends to be you and gets together with Yoongi. Nothing can go wrong with that, right?

Warnings: Light swearing, little bit of angst, mentions of blood

Word Count: 4.7K

Previous / Next

Chapter two: «The truth is rarely pure and never simple.» – o.w.

The next few days you felt miserable. You could hardly eat, barely sleep and in the lectures you were more physically present than you were really listening to your professor. What made the whole thing even worse was the rumor that Min Yoongi had a soulmate. Two girls had watched him in the library and noticed how he had writhed in pain and grabbed his chest. This was considered a clear sign and it took less than twelve hours before the first girls came to him and claimed to be his soulmate.

The fact that they didn’t know which name was on his chest didn’t seem to bother them. The chance to at least guess the first name correctly seemed sufficient for such people. But you wouldn’t worry about how shameless some people were. What worried you was the fear that he would come looking for you. He had your first and last name, and all he had to do was look around campus before he found out who you were. You felt like someone was standing behind you with a gun to your head. At any moment they might pull the trigger, and Min Yoongi would be standing right in front of you.

You didn’t know how, but you had to think of something to keep that from happening. For a moment you thought about transferring to another university. But you didn’t want to run away either. Your father had taught you that from an early age. You had to face danger and your worst fears, no matter how painful it was. And that it was, almost unbearable.

Tired and stressed you rubbed your face and closed your eyes for a moment. The bright light of your desk lamp blinded you when you opened them again.

“Everything alright?” you heard Liv’s voice behind you, who was sitting on your bed and was still absorbed in one of her thick tomes.

You needed a moment to get your thoughts in order before you answered her. “Um, sure, all good.”

You heard Liv slam the book shut and saw out of the corner of your eye as she shoved it from her lap onto the bed. “It’s not all good. Stop lying to me. You’ve been so weird these days. As if your mind was somewhere else.”

Her reproachful undertone made you feel uneasy. You didn’t want to lie to Liv, but you didn’t want to talk about it either. Sighing, you turned to her on your chair. “Everything’s fine, I’m just a bit stressed because of all the homework and in a few weeks the first exams will start,” you tried to talk your way out of it. You hoped Liv would leave it at that.

She looked at you for a moment and seemed to estimate how honest you were. After a few seconds, she also sighed. “Well, whatever you say. But you know you can always talk to me if you want to, right?”

You nodded and forced yourself to smile as you swallowed the tears that were about to fall. Fuck, the whole topic seemed to bother you more than you thought. You quickly averted your gaze but by then the first tears were running down your cheeks.

“Y/N!” Liv said in surprise, but you gestured with a hand movement that she should stay seated.

“It’s okay, Liv, I’ll be alright in a second,” you reassured her and brushed over your face with the back of your hand to get rid of the tears, slightly annoyed. For a moment it was quiet in the small room, only your irregular breaths could be heard, which you tried to control again to stop the tears.

“I haven’t seen you cry since your–”

“I know,” you interrupted her. You didn’t need her to say it. You took a deep breath and decided you couldn’t hide it any longer from your best friend. “I have a soulmate,” you said as quickly as you could.

Again, there was a moment of surprised silence. You didn’t dare look at Liv; you knew what expression would be written all over her face.

“I know you’re not particularly enthusiastic about the idea of a soulmate,” she began cautiously, a slight hesitation in her voice, “but ninety percent of the world’s population envy you for it.”

Irritated, you puffed out air between your lips. “I don’t care what ninety percent of the world would like,” you replied, flinching slightly at your bitter undertone. You knew that you were behaving a bit like a small, defiant child who didn’t want to take a nap. Yet you felt treated unfairly by the world and fate itself.

“Have you spoken to him yet? Do I know him?” Liv tried to steer the conversation in another direction. Excited, she slid forward on the bed and supported herself with her palms on her thighs.

You shook your head. “Honestly, I hope he doesn’t seek me out at all,” you admitted sheepishly.

Immediately Liv straightened up again and looked at you in anger. “Y/N, you’re being so selfish right now, do you realize that? Just because you don’t want a soulmate doesn’t mean he feels the same way. Is it even a guy?”

You just nodded. You knew Liv was right when she said that. And you probably wouldn’t have been so averse either, if it wasn’t for no one less than Min Yoongi.

“What’s his name?”

You stared at your sweatpants, which you’d swapped for your skinny jeans the moment you entered your apartment. Gently, you glanced up at Liv, who looked at you with big eyes, waiting. When you didn’t say anything and felt the blush rise to your cheeks, her eyes, if possible, grew a bit bigger. She gasped for air and fanned herself while she stared at you in shock.

“Oh my God!” she cried out and you flinched at her loud voice. “I don’t believe it! Do you know how lucky you are?!”

Lucky. One person’s luck is another’s misery. You were aware that many people would want to take your position. But many of these people did not have the past like you, which is why you were so averse to a soulmate in the first place.

“It is not even sure whether he would like contact at all,” you muttered and stroked over the soft, slightly faded fabric of your pants.

“Are you crazy? I heard he was looking for you!”

Immediately your head snapped towards her. Liv had just confirmed your worst fears. If that was really true and he was looking for you, it wouldn’t be long before he could put two and two together and bump into you. Even if you suspected that he had been talking to more than three people a day and couldn’t narrow it down like you did, the possibilities were limited.

“Why would Min Yoongi be excited about having a soulmate?” you said lost in thought. “Doesn’t that limit him in his biggest hobby?”

Liv snorted. “I know you don’t like Yoongi. But don’t you think you overestimate him a bit? From what I heard, he’s mostly focused on his studies and music…”

“So what if I do,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Liv’s opinion on the subject didn’t make it easier for you to hate Min Yoongi. As much as you wanted to, the slight tingling in your chest made you pause.

Damn, why did it have to be Min Yoongi of all people?!

Liv sighed. “You really should talk to him, Y/N. Maybe you can work it out and in a week you’ll laugh about how you always got so upset with him.”

“And then we’ll walk hand-in-hand in love through the school hallways and live happily ever after,” you mockingly said. “You know it doesn’t work like that, Liv,” you said, looking at her. When you saw her sad and hurt look, you felt regret for a moment. It wasn’t Liv’s fault and it was unfair that you took your frustration out on her. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured you. “But maybe it will help if I tell you that I really envy you and would love to be in your position.” She gave you a smile, which you returned with caution.

A second later your smile faded and an idea crossed your mind. “Liv,” you started looking at her with big eyes.

“No, oh, no, no, no. Definitely not,” bubbled it out of your best friend as she watched your change of mood. “I know that look, and every time I see it, a few hours later, someone or something gets hurt or cries. Whatever you are thinking right now, forget it!”

You didn’t let her dissuade you, even though you didn’t have anything to counter her argument. You had to admit that your ideas were often not necessarily the best. Especially if they came up after 10 pm and you were tired from the day. It seemed as if your brain was switching to low flame and your inhibition threshold was so low that even the best limbo players could not pass under it.

Yet you were sure that you had just found the solution to all your problems. “Liv, just listen to me for a second–”

“I don’t want to hear it!” she interrupted you and covered her ears with her hands.

You laughed, probably for the first time in a few days, and rolled your chair up to the bed. Gently, you clasped her wrists and pulled them off her ears so Liv could hear you. “So you’d like to be in my shoes, wouldn’t you?”

Liv looked at you in wonder and thought for a moment before she shrugged. “Sure, everyone would like to be Yoongi’s soulmate.”

Your grin widened. “What if,” you said, raising your eyebrows “when you pretend to be me.”

Liv stared at you in shock. “What?”

“You go to Yoongi and just say you’re me.”

“Just?”

You lightly punched her upper arm. “Can you speak in complete sentences?”

“Only if you stop saying such nonsense,” she countered, rubbing her aching arm.

“Why nonsense?” you asked and got up from your chair. You had to move so that your thoughts could get going again and you could refine your brilliant idea. “How is he going to prove you’re not me? He never heard your name or mine in the library. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have to keep looking for me.”

“And what if he wants to see proof?”

You stopped in the middle of the room and thought for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be proof enough if you said your name – that is, my name – Nobody knows what name is written on his chest except him and the two of us.”

“What if he wants to see the name?”

“Then you tell him that you don’t want to get naked in front of him right at the second time you meet him. Oh Liv, I’m a genius,” you declared loudly and threw your arms up in relief. It seemed as if a weight was being lifted from your shoulders.

“That’s crazy,” Liv muttered, but you could see the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

“Then why are you grinning like a cheshire cat?” you replied with a laugh and dropped yourself on the bed next to her. She also let herself fall backwards so that you lay next to each other and stared at the ceiling.

“This is crazy,” Liv whispered again, this time more quietly. “This will never work.”

“We have nothing to lose,” you returned just as quietly.

It was quiet for a moment before Liv turned excitedly on her side and supported her head with her arm. “Can I see it?”

You let the thought wander through your mind for a moment. You didn’t know why, but the fine, black lines were something so intimate to you that you didn’t want to share with anyone, not even your best friend. Immediately you pushed that thought out of your head. You had decided, why would you hold on to those stupid lines?

“Okay,” you agreed and straightened yourself up a bit. “Maybe we can take a picture of it and if Yoongi asks, you just show him the picture?”

“That’s a perfect idea!” Liv agreed. “Oh wow,” she breathed as you lifted the fabric of your shirt and Liv’s eyes fell on the tattoo. “Did it hurt?”

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack at first,” you admitted while digging your phone out of your pocket. You shoved that little device into Liv’s hand. “Go ahead and don’t wait too long to tell Yoongi. Don’t let him get ahead of us.”

“Then I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Liv agreed and gave you a thumbs up when she saw that you had sent her the photo.

“Then tomorrow,” you replied.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

You didn’t know why, but you didn’t sleep well last night. Even worse than most nights anyway. You rolled over from one side to the other and then gave it up completely at 4 am. At least you were able to use the time instead of lying half-awake in bed.

Therefore, you were very sleepy when you sat in your first lecture in the morning. Your thoughts wandered again and again, to the pile of homework you had to do, to Liv and the plan that hopefully would work out and… to Yoongi. Every time your thoughts went down that dangerous path again, you pulled yourself together and shook your head to chase those thoughts away.

You were probably just nervous that the plan would fail and that you would have to cope with listening to what Yoongi had to say.

That’s why you were a bit nervous when you walked towards the main building, in which, according to Liv, Yoongi had a seminar about an upcoming project. How she knew that you’d rather not know. It was only to your advantage that you didn’t have to search much longer. It was also convenient that the laboratories were in the building next door so you didn’t have to make a big detour.

It took some convincing from Liv to have you agree to come along when Liv would talk to Yoongi. You were glad that she agreed to your plan at all, so you could do her this little favour. And you could understand her too. You wouldn’t want to face him – and, if things got really bad, also his group of friends – alone.

You took a look at your cell phone to see if Liv had backed out and cancelled. But you had no new messages on your lock screen. When you walked through the heavy glass doors, you saw your best friend right away. She was standing at the entrance in front of the bulletin board and seemed to be interested in the posters. But you had known her for some years and knew better that she was probably too excited to absorb the information she was reading.

“Hey,” you greeted her and ignored the trembling in your voice.

Liv was so excited that she didn’t even hear it. She chewed on her lower lip and looked at you nervously. “I’ve never spoken to him before, not like this. Just that one time in the library and even then I could barely get a word out. What’s it gonna be like if the plan works and we’re together and I can’t–”

“Oh, my God,” you interrupted her, laughing. The laughter felt good, it covered up your own nervousness. “It’s gonna be okay. Just wait and you’ll see.” You tried to cheer her up as you went further into the building looking for your destination.

“He should have come out of his seminar a few minutes ago,” said Liv and looked down a corridor where you suspected his seminar room was. Slightly hesitant, she started walking again and you followed her into this very corridor. Liv didn’t say anything else and you were suddenly quiet as well when you heard a deep laugh.

“As if, I don’t believe you,” bawled Kim Taehyung, one of Min Yoongi’s close friends. You heard several others join in, but you did not know what the young men were laughing at.

“Believe me or don’t,” Min Yoongi replied indifferently and you could see before your inner eye how he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care.”

“You don’t know how you would react if you were in the same situation,” another voice interfered.

With a beating heart you went around the corner and immediately, as if attracted by a magnet, your gaze snapped towards the dark-haired man. At the same time you felt your heart literally getting warm. It felt as if the warmth radiated through your whole body and welcomed you like a warm embrace.

“Oh no, here are two more,” you heard one of the men murmuring, but you had already turned your gaze to the ground and stared intently at the grey linoleum floor.

Liv seemed to have it the other way around. With every further step she seemed more and more confident and you had trouble keeping up with her. Your heart was beating up to your neck when Liv suddenly stopped and you came to a halt next to her out of breath.

“Hi,” Liv said and you were surprised for a moment how calm she sounded. You were curious to see what big eyes the others would make when it turned out that you two weren’t like the other hundred girls who had approached Min Yoongi.

“If you’re here for all this soulmate talk, you can leave right away,” Park Jimin said, who had leaned against one of the lockers and looked at you from head to toe in disdain.

“Wait a minute, Jimin,” Yoongi said to your surprise and checked you out as well. His look was rather curious though and for a short moment something like recognition flickered across his features. “You’re the two from the library.”

Liv nodded and you saw out of the corner of your eye how she smiled. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduced herself and it was as if this sentence, this name – your name – had swallowed all the words in the otherwise empty hallway for a short moment. You watched Yoongi as his eyes widened slightly in surprise and his mouth opened a little.

“Wait a minute,” Taehyung interfered, who had appeared behind Yoongi and looked at Liv sceptically. “Is that her?”

You only registered his words along the way. Your focus was still on Yoongi, who watched your best friend with a mixture of confusion and incredulity. A few moments later, you saw a smile spread across his face. His eyes gleamed and a small laugh escaped him. It stung you all the more because your heart leapt with joy at the sound.

You felt your heart shrinking by the second, collapsing more and more as you watched Yoongi’s face. Yoongi should look at you like this, not Liv.

You felt your eyes start to burn and you knew you had to get out of that situation. There was a lump in your throat the size of a boulder, while your heart was hanging in your chest, shrivelled like an old balloon from which the air had escaped.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to make up an excuse why you had to go. Yoongi made that decision for you. “Do you want to talk in private?” he asked, the warm smile still on his lips. You tried not to let your gaze drop on the cute gummy smile that didn’t seem to fit his cool appearance at all.

“I would love to,” Liv replied and before you knew it, Liv had turned around and disappeared into one of the empty classrooms. Yoongi followed her one blink of an eye later without paying you another glance.

For a moment, you stood there perplexed and rooted to the spot. A cough made you flinch and with big eyes you looked at Taehyung. His gaze lay on you and it made you nervous that you could not interpret his expression. You used the opportunity that presented itself to escape from the unpleasant situation and tried to give him a short smile before you tried to step past him.

The loud, sudden noise made you startle and you had to suppress a surprised outcry when your way was suddenly blocked by an arm. Taehyung smiled at you as he leaned against one of the lockers.

“What’s the hurry? What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” you managed to get out and ducked under his arm. Immediately your wrist was grasped by a strong hand and a second later you found yourself right opposite of Taehyung. His dark eyes watched you with furrowed eyebrows and his gaze sent a cold shiver down your back.

“Now that was rude,” you heard Jimin say, whom you couldn’t see over Taehyung’s broad shoulders, but could only hear.

“I agree with you, this is no way to treat strangers,” Taehyung agreed without taking his eyes off you. Not to mention the grip around your wrist.

“Drop it, Tae,” Jungkook, who hadn’t said anything the whole time, suddenly interfered. “Let her go.”

A shadow fell on Taehyung’s face and you looked at Jungkook who appeared next to you. Jungkook’s gaze lay on your wrist and you breathed a sigh of relief as Taehyung’s grip loosened.

“Oh, Jungkookie,” Taehyung smiled at him and patted him on the back, hard. “We were only joking, don’t be so serious all the time. This girl knows that, doesn’t she?”

Your relief had disappeared just as quickly as it had come when your blood froze in your veins at this statement. “Not really,” you muttered. Your courage was used up for today and you already noticed how exhaustion spread deep into your bones. “I’d better go now,” you pressed out before you turned on your heels 180 degrees and walked along the corridor with quick steps. You only breathed again when you turned the corner and could no longer feel the gaze of the three young men in your back.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

After a short break, which actually lasted half an hour, in the toilet and a panic attack later, you arrived at the laboratories out of breath.

“Sorry, sorry!” you shouted as you came rushing through the door and put on a lab coat. Quickly you hurried in the direction of Seokjin, who was standing at a tall table and put a liquid into a petri dish with a pipette.

“It was about time,” Seokjin said somewhat grumpy, but didn’t turn his concentrated look away from his task. “You’re almost an hour late.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, Jin,” you apologized as you searched for the container labeled salt water.

“It’s underneath you on the shelf, I left it for you,” Jin said, pointing his head in the direction indicated.

Immediately, your guilty conscience became even worse. You couldn’t get another word out as you reached for the container and also started to pipette the liquid into different petri dishes.

“What happened?” Jin sighed after a moment of silence.

“What do you mean, what happened?” you asked in return. Shit. You hated that Jin was so attentive and could tell when something was wrong.

Jin sighed again before putting the pipette aside and looking at you for the first time that late afternoon. “You’re quiet, you usually have the last word in our discussions. And by the way, being late is not like you either.” His gaze almost burned into you as he searched for signs of what might have happened. “Did you cry?”

You shook your head mechanically. “Everything is fine.” A lie that you had used all too often in recent years. Everything is fine; don’t worry; yes, I eat well and healthy; no, I always sleep well and have no nightmares… You could continue the list endlessly.

“Stop lying to me,” Jin said, and if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was getting angry.

“I’m not lying, let’s talk about something else,” you turned him down and concentrated again on not wasting liquid.

“But I want to know what’s going on,” Jin continued to ask and you could literally feel your patience thread tearing. You could see in your mind’s eye the glaring rage dripping from the thread’s fibers and clouding your clear vision. You were a peace-loving person and rarely got angry. But today, today too much had happened. You hadn’t felt so emotionally tired in a long time and Jin’s persistence caused you to explode.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it, so stop asking me!” You almost shouted. You hadn’t noticed how you clasped the thin edge of the petri dish. Only when the resistance suddenly gave way and at the same moment you heard a clink, did it pull you out of your anger and back into reality. As quickly as the anger had come, it had disappeared again when you looked at the shattered glass in the palm of your hand in bewilderment.

Confused, you watched your palm turn red. Jin cursed next to you and ran to the first aid box without hesitation. You were in trance when Jin carefully took your hand in his and started to remove the few glass splinters from your flesh with tweezers. He carefully cleaned the wound, which fortunately wasn’t too deep, as he told you in a calm tone before he applied a bandage.

You watched him silently at his work. The pain in your hand was pushed to the edge of your consciousness by the unpleasant and oppressive feeling in the pit of your stomach. Jin said hardly anything either, except for the few statements he had to make about your state of health.

Carefully, he put the first aid kit back in place before he joined you again. He looked at you in silence for a moment before he carefully stroked your hair. You didn’t know why, but that faint touch was what made you stumble over the edge of your emotions again. You fell deep into an ocean of tears and Jin didn’t hesitate and pulled you into a tight embrace.

For the next few minutes, you couldn’t get a word out, no explanation. Just your constant sobs muffled by Jin’s chest and his short, warm pep talks. When you had the feeling that all tears had left your body, you separated from Jin and brushed your face with your healthy hand.

“Sorry,” you muttered and looked down.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” it came straight back from Jin. “Even if you don’t want to talk now, I’m always here for you.”

You sighed and closed your aching eyes for a moment before you looked at Jin. “That’s sweet, Jin, but I think I’m just gonna have to do this on my own.”

Jin gave you a sad smile. “You never have to go through anything alone,” he disagreed.

“Thank you, Jinnie,” you said and gave him a hug.

“You’ll go home now and get a good night’s sleep,” Jin said against your hair and broke away from you. “I’ll do the rest of the tasks alone.”

Shocked, you looked at him. “What? No! I’m not letting you do this all alone,” you protested but Jin just laughed.

“I think I’ll get it done faster on my own,” he pointed to the two petri dishes you had filled so far, one of which was still half smashed on the table.

You too had to laugh a bit before you looked at him seriously. “Thank you,” you said again and accepted his offer. You were glad when you met no one on the way to the small room where you stowed your jackets and bags. You didn’t have a mirror at hand, but you knew that after crying twice within an hour you probably didn’t look too cheerful anymore.

Your bones ached and you felt a hundred years old as you threw your jacket over and searched your backpack for your cell phone. A few seconds later you held the small device in your hands and looked at the display. Astonished, you squinted your eyes together when you saw a message from an unknown number.

I wonder what Jungkook wants 🤔 Also I hope it’s not too confusing with the whole name changing situation between Liv and the Reader.

As always, any kind of feedback is appreciated a lot and helps me to stay motivated. So I’m happy about any kind of feedback if you enjoyed the chapter (or if you want to give me tips on my writing, which is appreciated as well)!

I hope you’re all staying safe and see you soon! 💜

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Tag list:

@loveyoongles @missseoulite @mymainaccountlol

#yoongi x reader #bts soulmate au #bts smut #bangtanarmynet #fuckboy!yoongi #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts college au #bts imagine

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spectrumed · 3 years

Text

2. voice

As a child I could not pronounce the letter R. I once complained to my mother for being so careless as to give me a name that had two R’s in it. Fredrik. Or as I pronounced it back then, “Fledlik.” Cute, right? I was a cute child, all blonde and with big blue eyes. At one point, I got surrounded by a group of older girls who forced me to pronounce my name, even though I really couldn’t. They laughed and laughed, teasing me for my inability to pronounce even my own name correctly. If I ever had a reason to develop a fetish for femdom, I think this would have been it.

Like it or not, in speech, there is no room for individual quirks. No, we’ve all got to learn how to speak properly. Historically, that has led to some pretty heinous attitudes towards regional accents, any tongue that was the standard was seen by default as being less or developed and intelligent. Regional accents were seen as practically unhygienic, the worry being that if people just got to speak as they wished, they might end up potentially thinking dangerous thoughts. While I understand the importance of being understood, it’s clear that the stigma that exists around speech difficulties stems from a place of prejudice. If a person has a lisp, do you really struggle to understand them? And while stammering can be quite debilitating, it should be blatantly obvious that shaming people who stammer, suggesting that they are bereft of intelligence, is not the way to help them. Humans are social animals, and language may be the one thing that distinguishes us as a species, it is natural that proper elocution should be treasured. But some people do struggle with their speech, and that should not cost them any respect or kindness.

As a child, I didn’t speak nearly enough. As an adult I am speaking too much. That’s the problem with you, Fredrik, you’ve never understood that there is a middle ground between two extremes. There is a way you can speak that is neither too quiet, nor too loud. It is how normal people speak. Why can’t you be normal, Fredrik? Are you going to spend this whole blog post talking about how difficult it is for you to simply learn to be like everyone else? Self-pitying yourself, much? Back in my day people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, if they had something they struggled with, they learned to sort it all out, and they didn’t start complaining about society being all mean to them. You’re just spending too much time inside your own head, go take a swim, take up a hobby that requires you to step outdoors, it will serve you well. Don’t be a freak, Fredrik. Be normal, for once.

On a side note, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is meant to be understood as an impossible feat. You can’t possibly pull yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s ludicrous to even suggest that such a thing may be feasible. While, yes, there are many things you can do to help yourself, ultimately, you can’t profoundly escape from a sorry situation you’ve found yourself in without some outside help. There is no shame in requiring help. To guilt someone into thinking that if they can’t do it alone, they are weak, is frankly sociopathic. Humans need each other, we take care of each other, we are there for each other. Self-sufficiency is great, but let’s not take it to levels of absurdity by suggesting that needing help from others is anything but normal. No-one succeeds in life without others there to prop them up. Instead of telling someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you might as well tell them to go and swallow the sun, which is clearly another impossible task.

Most people will never in their lives experience what it is like to go through a neuropsychological evaluation. Turns out that it is not always such a pleasant experience. Though, considering the popularity of pseudo-scientific nonsense like the Myers-Briggs test, I am sure some folks would lie and pretend to love it. Certainly, there is a charm to being there and talking about yourself for several hours near-uninterrupted, but the exhaustion that you will feel at the end of it cannot be understated. Naturally, it does vary between who does it, and why they’re doing it. But if the stated goal is to find out whether you’ve had a neurodevelopmental disorder since you were but a young babe, then of course, there are going to be some pretty long conversations happening about those early days. Lots of stuff you may not have considered or thought about in a very long time will suddenly become very relevant to your current situation. And at the end of it all, you get some papers detailing your fashionable new diagnosis. Your entire life, all written down. Can make you feel rather wistful. And there’s really quite a surprising amount of typos included in the text, and barely any jokes.

Still, as part of my official diagnosis, there is a reference to my speech at being at times “stilted.” Though, the diagnosis does take very good care to mention that I appear intelligent and thoughtful, exhibiting a wide vocabulary and a good sense of the right words to use at the right moment. It’s flattering, for the most part. Yet, it does irk me that I could be perceived as being stilted. I know that at this point, I am being petty, because who cares if I sometimes come across as maybe a little robotic. I’ve got Asperger’s. Of course I am a robot. The closest role model we folks with Asperger’s ever had for the longest time was Star Trek: The Next Generation’s android named Data. God forbid anyone like me ever turned out to be the protagonist of a series, we’re all doomed to play the part of the robot, the alien, or the socially awkward geek. I should just be delighted that I am high-functioning. I know how much worse some have it. I should be grateful and pleased that I come across as mostly normal, mostly neurotypical. But… I really just don’t want anyone to think my speech is stilted. I don’t want to be Data. I want to be Riker.

It is never enough, you’ll never be good enough. If you fake it, they’ll see through it. If you struggle and if you work honestly to appear more normal, they won’t recognise it. As soon as they get an inkling you may be an imposter, looking like them, but having a neurologically deviant brain, they’ll single you out. For you, normalcy is an illusion. To attempt to be normal is to remake yourself only to receive nothing. Sure, you can be disingenuous, pretend you're not yourself, but it’ll never fool them. In the end, you’ll only lose yourself. Maybe I should just own the fact that my speech sometimes comes across as being stilted. Maybe I should own it. Be proud of who I am. But… sometimes I just don’t want to be me.

I want to be ignored. Sometimes, not always. But that goes for everyone. But most of all, I’d like to be able to go unseen whenever I’m not trying to impress anyone. When I’m just off to buy some milk. When I’m sitting on the bus. When I’m walking through the park. I know it is partly paranoia, but I can’t help but feel like I stick out. It’s always been like that with my friends growing up. The metaphor I used with my therapist is that I felt like a thumb. That they, my friends, were the fingers and I was the thumb. Sure, we’re similar. In many ways we’re the same. You could even say that I was crucial to making the social dynamics work. Who doesn’t like the thumb? What would you do without your thumb? But still, I was different. Some people would do anything to be different like that, to feel special. Some folks feel all invisible and forgotten in the crowd, and I’d lie if I told them that I didn’t envy them sometimes. The ability to go all invisible? That seems swell! There’s this question people like to ask as a sort of personality test. If you could choose a superpower, would you rather be able to fly, or would you rather be able to go invisible? The answer is obvious, as far as I’m concerned. Of course I’d love to be able to go invisible. To be able to exist without anyone seeing me. Without anyone judging me. Without ever having to worry if someone is going to treat me as different. For a moment to feel what it is like not to be some big, dumb, stupid, thumb.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not too anguished. Nowadays, I feel like I am in a relatively good place. But I would be lying if I told you that I still don’t get frustrated at the plethora of difficulties I face just trying to blend in. Even with family members, people who are supposed to know you the best, even then I have to go out of my way to behave a certain way, to exist a certain way, because fundamentally, they just don’t seem to get you. Not in that way. They have an image of you that you need to try and match. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that sometimes you need to be more direct in your communication to truly reach me, I don’t pick up on the many smaller little social cues they may throw my way, it’s still just me being silly and looking for excuses for why I didn’t understand them the first time around. And I am deathly afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. A very prevalent misconception about autistic individuals is that we don’t care if we’re being rude. That if we are rude, our rudeness can simply be overlooked because, y’know, we’re autistic. While this sort of thing is commonly represented in media that is supposed to depict autistic characters, in real life, things don't quite work like this. Believe it or not, readers, being autistic is not a free pass to act like a dick. Autistic individuals still very much have to modulate our behaviour if we wish to fit in and be accepted. No-one will ever excuse you for being autistic. To be autistic is living with extra hurdles in your way, thinking that it’s anything but a social handicap is romanticising a diagnosis you clearly know very little about.

When I was a kid, I didn’t speak much. As far as I was concerned, I merely spoke whenever I needed to speak. It took until adulthood for me to learn that my parents and teachers were actually concerned about that. I was made to see a specialist, under the guise of learning elocution, but I’ve later come to realise that those meetings were about more than just learning to pronounce the letter R. Like, what does testing my memory have to do with diction? Yes, her job was partly to help my speech develop more in line with the other kids, but she was also there to evaluate whether or not I was intellectually disabled. I have come to learn that I had teachers at the time that were adamant about me going to a different school, more equipped to handle kids like me, but my mother vehemently defended my right to stay in the school I was in. After all, I did have friends, and to anyone who really knew me, they knew that I was a bright child. Sure, I wasn’t as communicative as the other children, but I clearly had no issues processing information, and it’s not like I was disruptive in some other way. But that was also part of the problem. The teachers that thought that I may need specialist schooling were concerned about the fact that I was too placid and too agreeable. They wanted me to express frustration at my lacking pronunciation, to see me get mad at others for not fully understanding me. That amazes me, if anything. The fact that I was a happy kid they took as some indication that I wasn’t quite right.

My mother delights in a memory of me as a kid once slamming my fist on the table and declaring that “now, I am speaking!” May I remind you that I was a cute kid. Sure, it is the sort of behaviour that parents of the old times would have spanked their kids for. Kids in the past were supposed to be quiet. To be seen, but not heard. I wonder if there’d be any kind of hubbub about my early development if I lived back then. I’d probably be seen as the ideal child, all pretty and docile and never too loud. Still, it was a moment my mother cherished, because for once, I really proved that I did have the capacity to speak. Though, I still couldn’t pronounce my R’s. But it was time for Fledlik to speak.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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naferty · 4 years

Text

Tony wakes up groggy, disoriented and with no recollection of where he is. At first, he thinks his room, but his room isn’t as white or spotless or has a strong sterilizing smell. It hurts his head just smelling it. Or maybe that’s just his head hurting in general from waking up somewhere unknown with no recollection of it.

He finds Rhodey sitting next to him, holding his hand and looking at his phone with his other. When Tony squeezes it Rhodey looks up and is relieved to see him awake.

“Tones,” he moves to sit on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Tony frowns in thought. His head hurts and there’s a bit of throbbing pain in his left leg, but other than that it’s not too bad to warrant Rhodey’s concern.

“My leg hurts,” he admits, voice cracking. Rhodey quickly grabs the cup of water and a straw. Tony inhales the liquid in like a scorched animal in a desert.

“What happened?” he tries again, grateful his voice didn’t nearly send him into a coughing fit.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Rhodey moves strands of hair away from his eyes.

“I don’t - I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, that’s okay. Take your time. No hurry.”

Tony works his brain to remember something. Anything. The last thing he recalls is welcoming a new student to the academy. Hellcat if he remembered the name correctly. Something about hell and a cat is somehow involved. Sounded about right. After that, nothing. He had been with Pepper welcoming her, returned back to his tower and then he woke up in this bed with a headache and Rhodey next to him.

That had been in… August? Or sometime around there.

“We were welcoming new people. Hellcat? Daredevil?”

Rhodey frowns. Not a good look and not a good sign. “That’s what you remember?”

“Yeah, why? Did something happen?” Tony gives the room a quick scan. “Why am I here and why does my leg hurt?”

Rhodey squeezes his hand. “You got hurt, Tones. Got taken down while flying. Your suit took a lot of the damage but your leg still got nicked. Stress fracture. Not too bad considering everything. You’ll be getting a cast for it, though. Hope you’re ready.”

“Only if you carry me.”

“No carrying on my end. Someone else has that covered now.”

“Aww, Honey Bear, I don’t want anyone else carrying me but you. You know that.”

Rhodey shook his head. “Not these days, Tones. The honor of carrying around your ass goes to someone else now. Someone, I might add, that you absolutely love being carried by.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony lifts himself up to sit upright. Hurt like hell but now he’s able to get a better view of Rhodey. He notices his best friend has more of his War Machine suit on than usual. Where before he had been getting used to it. Now he’s wearing it with the same confidence as Tony does his own.

Not only that, but he can also almost swear that Rhodey looks a bit older now. He can’t put a finger on it, but somehow Rhodey looks as if a fair amount of time had gone by. A bit bulkier. Strong posture.

Where the hell as his Platypus been training recently for him to gain those muscles so fast?

“Well, uh,” Rhodey scratches his head. A nervous habit. A very telling tell. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

“Say what?” Oh shit, did something really bad happen besides him breaking his leg and not remember? Did whoever he had been fighting with do something to him? Run off with his spleen or kidney? Stolen his fridge of cheese? Hacked into his systems and stolen everything?

“Tones, what year is it?”

Tony blinked. Oh… crap. Usually, people only ask that question when memory loss is involved. Did his head get injured in the fall? How many years has he lost? It can’t be too many since Rhodey still looks more or less the same and it seems like they’re still in the Academy.

“It’s twenty-sixteen,” he says, fear slowly growing as his mind ran through scenarios after scenarios of what he could be missing from memory.

“Crap,” Rhodey rubs his forehead. Not a good sign. Never a good sign. “It’s okay, it’s okay, not too bad. Memory loss happens. Nothing we can’t handle together.”

“Honey Bear, what year is it?” His heart rate starts going faster. He’s terrified of the possibility of so much time going by and not remembering any of it.

“Tones, calm down. It’s not too bad. It’s twenty-nineteen. Only three years. We can handle this.”

“Three?” Tony repeats. Sure three doesn’t sound like a large number but it’s years! So much could happen in one year let alone three.

Rhodey hugs him. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll handle this together. I mean it. Not much has changed. We’re still in the Academy. It just has more students than before. You’ll run into a lot of new faces but it’ll be okay. You’ve made a lot of improvements on your armor and mine. You’ll get used to it again. I’ll help every step of the way.”

Tony takes deep breaths. It’s all easy to say, but it’s still a lot of time taken away. People change. Is he still friends with Pepper? What about Jan? Loki? Do people who used to tolerate him hate him now? Is he still helping around in the Academy or has Nick kicked him out of board meetings?

As if knowing exactly what he’s thinking, Rhodey tells him, “Pepper was here earlier, but she got called away. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Jan couldn’t skip another class. It’s Thursday. She’s already skipped all day yesterday. Couldn’t do another.”

Rhodey pulls away. “You know Loki wouldn’t be caught dead caring for someone where everyone can see. He’s getting updates from Jan, but he does occasionally skulk around here.”

“Oh,” that answers some. What about the others? “Anything big happened?”

“A bit,” Rhodey admits. “Besides the Academy’s weekly attacks, some big events have happened. Nothing that’s changed your life too much, though.”

Tony exhales. Doesn’t sound too bad.

“Jarvis has a body now.”

He blinks. “...what?”

“Jarvis has a body now,” Rhodey repeats slower. Hands out and at the ready to catch him should he fall at the news. “Walking, talking body with working arms and everything. It’s really cool. You’re really proud of it.”

“He… he has a body?!” That’s… that’s incredible! Jarvis has always behaved like a person, even with his digital coding, and Tony has always considered him as an individual all his own. Sassy, sarcastic, but still loyal and humble. Jarvis getting a body? That’s got to be the greatest thing that’s happened to him, and Tony can’t even remember it!

It absolute sucks.

“Where is he? The body, I mean.” Jarvis is always with him, but physically? Where is that?

“In the tower preparing everything for you. Make it cast friendly,” Rhodey gives his left leg a pointed stare.

“Okay, is that everything?”

His eyes go back to Tony. For a millisecond Tony can see them land somewhere on his shoulder before they go to his face. It’s enough for Tony to shakily raise his left hand to touch it. His shirt is thin enough to feel everything underneath. Nothing out of the ordinary on his shoulder but when he runs it over his neck he stops. The skin under his fingers isn’t as smooth as his shoulders. Marks are present. Barely noticeable really. Faded but still there. Located where one would place a bite to mark a mate.

Rhodey knows the moment he realizes what it means. He gives rapid nods in confirmation. “Yeah, it’s exactly what you think.”

“I got mated?” Tony nearly screams in hysterics because - holy shit!

“Not fully mated,” Rhodey is quick to correct. “You haven’t signed marriage licenses or had any kind of wedding. You marked each other to keep people off you. You’ll get officially hitched once you’re both ready. At least that’s what you’ve told me.”

“Off me?” That’s a very odd reason for it. Who would even be on him anyway? Tony has no suitors, no interests in him. Did he somehow offend someone and they’re sicking people on him? Is the mark meant to do damage control for it? “Did I screw up and pissed off someone?”

Rhodey’s mouth falls open. “What - no! What? - how did you come to - no, of course not! Shit, Tones, how can you come to the worst conclusions?”

“Doesn’t the worst usually happen?” He doesn’t mean to sound pitiful. It just sort of happens.

Story of his life.

“Not recently, no.” Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you get the short end of the stick sometimes - actually, you get it a hell of a lot more times than I’d like, but it’s not every day and certainly not for this. This mark,” he points to it, “you have this because you and your mate just happen to have the hots for each other.”

“Just the hots? That’s not encouraging,” Tony looks down. “So it’s a temporary thing.” Once this quick hot honeymoon phase is over they’ll separate no doubt.

“You both call it love but I’m not about to feed that disgusting fire you have going. You both need to cool it with the affection. It’s traumatizing some of us.”

“Who am I even mated to?” The million-dollar question. Who ended up getting stuck with him? Who did he manage to convince to give him a try? From what he remembers, no one he knows has really caught his eye. In and outside of the Academy. No one, except for a certain Captain that he may or may not have had a crush on since his childhood. Odds are pretty low, the bottom of the barrel low, that Steve is his mysterious mate.

Oh, but how strong he could hope.

When Rhodey doesn’t answer right away Tony asks again. “Who’s - who’s my mate, Platypus? A new face? Someone outside the Academy? Who’s the unlucky person?”

“I don’t think he considers himself unlucky mating you, and don’t talk about my best friend like that.” Rhodey gives him a playful hit. “He’s a good guy. Don’t disrespect.”

“I love you, too.”

“Careful he doesn’t hear you say that. He’s a possessive asshole.”

“So a guy,” that doesn’t narrow down the list much but it is surprising. Tony really thought he’d get a girlfriend, but turns out he went and got a boyfriend instead.

Howard would be so proud of him for proving that right. ‘Why have a broad when you’ll probably be the broad?’

He didn’t know how to feel if he ended up mating to a male alpha. With the posturing and the aura of dominance he couldn’t create just waiting to be smacked across his face everyday, taunting him. Howard did always say he was a sorry excuse of an alpha. Better suited to be another alpha’s... well, you know.

At least he and this guy love each other, right?

“Who’s this guy?”

“Well, it’s -”

“I’m here! I’m here! Tony?” A voice interrupts. From outside the door, in came the one and only Steve Rogers. He’s breathing heavy and looks like he ran a marathon getting here but he’s smiling. Large and shining. “You’re awake.”

“Hi, Steve,” Tony says. It’s all he can think of saying. He honestly didn’t expect Steve to be here. They’re not exactly close from what he remembers.

Steve’s about to say more but Rhodey quickly stops him, dragging him back out the room and the two proceed to have a very hushed conversation. So hushed that Tony can’t guess what they’re talking about, but he does hear a very clear but very hurt, “oh” at the end. Then the two don’t realize their voices have gotten louder.

“Yeah.”

“So he doesn’t remember.”

“No. Sorry, Steve.”

“Now what?”

“We help him. Any way we can.”

“Would I be of any help, though? I’ll just cause problems.”

“Will you be able to keep away?”

“...no, I won’t.”

“He may not remember, but he still cares for you. Always has. Just gotta help him fall in love with you all over again.”

Hold on. One. Second.

Fall in love?

All over again?

Him?

With Steve??

When?

How?

Tony stops breathing.

The two return. Their hushed conversation over. Tony must be bug-eyed as he stares at them.

Steve stops in front of his bed. “Hey, Tony. I -”

“I mated you?!”

His shouting surprises the two. “Oh, you heard that?” Steve says.

Tony is speechless. It’s not a denial. Meaning, it could be very much true. He’s mated to Steve?

“Yeah, I’m you’re mate. Two years now. Could’ve been near three but you’re very stubborn,” the famous omega says so freely. As if being mated to Tony isn’t the worst thing in the world for him. “Rhodey told me you don’t remember anything in the last three years. So you don’t remember our time together?”

No, I - no.”

“Okay,” Steve looks down. Hurt. “I understand if you want me away while you heal -”

“No,” Tony says rather quickly. “I mean - help me understand. How did we end up together? How did I win you? No - shit, that came out wrong. You’re not a prize. You’re a hero and an icon. I just don’t get how I got this lucky.”

Steve has a smile. It’s small, but it’s there. “I don’t know about you being lucky. I think I’m the luckier one here. If you have to know, it took a lot of work on my part. It also took a lot of help from your friends. You’re really determined to ignore the signs right in front of you, Love.”

Tony makes a choking noise. Steve just called him Love. Steve Rogers just called him love! He couldn’t believe it. This is all a dream. It has to be. He’s never this lucky.

“Tony?” Steve frowns and moves around the table. Closer to him. He reaches a hand out. Rubs a thumb under his eye. “Honey, you’re crying.”

Is he? Steve pulls his thumb away. Glistening from a tear. Oh, looks like he is.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” he inhales, “and in pain.”

“Your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go get the nurse.” Steve turns to do just that but Tony grabs his arm before he can take the first step.

“Wait. Stay. Please?”

“I’ll get her,” Rhodey offers and walks out the room, leaving them alone.

Steve sits on the bed. He grabs hold of his hand. “Okay, I’ll stay. I won’t go anywhere.”

“Thank you.” With his shirt, Tony wipes away the tears. “Could you - could you tell me how it happened? How did we -?”

“Get together?” The omega pipes in.

“Yeah. I just don’t believe it. Feels like a dream.”

“You better believe it, Mister. This is no dream and I worked really hard to get you. I’m not letting go.”

Tony laughs. It’s so surreal to hear Steve say that. For him of all people!

“Okay, while we wait for Jim let me tell you about the first time I tried asking you out. A lot of people got upset about it and trust me, it wasn’t because I was trying to get off the market.”

#text post #long text post #naferty writes #stony #stevetony #tony & rhodey #he's my alpha au #a/b/o dynamics #alpha tony stark #omega steve rogers #another attempt at waking up and forgetting who your mate is #but a happier outcome!#avac #avac stony

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twistedtummies2 · 3 years

Text

Ele-May-ntary - Number 8

Welcome to Ele-May-ntary! All throughout the month of May, I’ve been counting down my Top 31 Favorite Portrayals of Sherlock Holmes, from movies, television, radio, and even video games! Today, we’ll be talking about an excellent and very recent take on Holmes, from a most unexpected source. Number 8 is…Makoto Furukawa.

Now, to some of you, this choice will be obvious. But to others, you’re probably thinking something along the lines of: “WHAT?! AN ANIME IN THE TOP TEN?! WHAT HERETICAL, BLASPHEMOUS JIGGERYPOKERY IS THIS?!” I’ve never actually been a HUGE aficionado of anime/manga. I don’t HATE it, either, however. There are, in fact, a lot of shows and franchises I really enjoy: Hellsing Ultimate, Pandora Hearts, Death Note, Black Butler, and Soul Eater are all old favorites of mine; as a kid I really loved Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh!; somewhat recently I’ve been introduced to FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and My Hero Academia, and I love both a lot! This is discounting the amazing animated pictures by Studio Ghibli, as well as a small handful of other Japanese-made animated pictures I’ve seen. All this is just to name a few examples. BUT, I also don’t go out of my way to watch anime most of the time, and there are plenty of popular franchises and series I’ve just never been able to get into: I’ve never been a huge fan of Digimon or One Piece, for instance, and I’ve tried to get into Naruto and Dragonball a couple times, but they’ve just never been my cup of tea, either. So while I’m not someone who ADORES anime/manga, I’m also not someone who just deplores it on principle. It sort of depends on the show and what’s going on in it, if that makes sense. Keeping this in mind…I wasn’t really sure what to expect when I decided to check out “Moriarty the Patriot.” It certainly SOUNDED interesting, but I was slightly dubious, as I feared the “anime-ness” I was already anticipating might get in the way of my enjoyment of the characters, or that certain reinterpretations of characters might go against my personal tastes. Still, I remained cautiously optimistic…and, considering this show is not even finished with its second season yet as I type this, I can already safely say that this has become one of my all-time favorite takes on the Holmes canon EVER made, and is easily the best reimagining I’ve seen since “Sherlock” and the Guy Ritchie films. (More on those another time.) The premise of “Moriarty the Patriot” is twofold. First of all, nearly all of the major characters from the Conan Doyle canon are depicted as at least slightly younger than usual. (Because God forbid the main characters in an anime DON’T look like animated supermodels.) Second of all: the main character, as the title suggests, is NOT Holmes, but rather Professor Moriarty. Moriarty is depicted as a violent anti-hero, rather than a straightforward villain, who plans to use crime to call attention to social problems in the English Empire, all to hopefully shift the paradigm of power and create a more equal world. Holmes first meets Moriarty during a case aboard a cruise liner. Impressed – and slightly worried – by the detective’s brilliant intellect (a mind that very closely matches Moriarty’s own), the Professor decides to make Holmes his “official nemesis”: the person who will solve his crimes and hunt him down, to allow his elaborate scheme to function. After all, the perfect criminal NEEDS the perfect detective. While the “anime boi” look for Sherlock admittedly takes a little getting used to (and very obviously calls to mind Benedict Cumberbatch’s portrayal, in terms of features and color choices), the portrayal of the character is really interesting. The show purposefully uses anachronisms in its dialogue, with the characters living and working in a Victorian environment, but speaking in a more modern lingo. Holmes, himself, has a very modern approach to his character: smoking cigarettes instead of a pipe, dressed in short-cut, dark clothes, and with a skull ring on his finger. (Why Holmes would wear such a thing, I have no Earthly clue.) This interpretation latches onto Sherlock’s more childish side. Mrs. Hudson outright describes as being “a child” and he behaves accordingly: he’s quick to speak his mind, does drastic things to get attention or make a point, has a massively mischievous side, and throws tantrums or sulks when he doesn’t get what he wants. Despite this, he also has moments of clear maturity and introspection, and he takes his work deathly seriously. His relationship with Moriarty is also interesting: in this version, the two start out as friends before Holmes ever realizes the Professor is the secret mastermind behind several cases he’s been trying to crack. Holmes is obsessed with solving the ultimate mystery, and becomes fascinated by the Professor’s own mind and the way it matches his, just as Moriarty becomes interested in the detective’s brain. His relationships with the other characters – such as Watson and Inspector Lestrade – are pretty great, too. He’s a very unique but still worthy and surprisingly accurate interpretation of the famous gumshoe, and the power of the show is just as much a result of its strong interpretation of Holmes as its new and powerful depiction of the Napoleon of Crime. I don’t know what I expected from this anime, like I said before…but I did NOT expect it to so instantly and perfectly create such brilliant new takes on these characters and this world. I am so very glad it did. The countdown continues tomorrow! Who will be next? Check in and find out!

#ele-may-ntary #number 8 #sherlock holmes #moriarty the patriot #top 31 sherlock holmes portrayals

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 12 who are you

the world minus one

summary

“Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Woo,” he says.

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his card as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth

Agent Jimmy Woo is assigned to oversee Peter's house arrest post far from home, and Peter's eyes see probation officer but his brain screams FRIEND.

Peter considers chopping his foot off.

Did he really need two feet? Maybe Mr. Stark could fashion him a prosthetic like he did for his own Infinity Gauntlet damaged arm, or maybe Peter could spend one of his annoyingly long days trapped inside this apartment figuring out how to do it himself.

He’s exiled to a much larger apartment than the one he and May share in Queens, but somehow, it still manages to be cramped and suffocating, as if the air there was thick and might smother him before the boredom drove him up the walls.

That is if his ankle monitor doesn’t choke the life out of him first.

He pulls at it, itching at it from his place sitting in the middle of the living room floor, when the doorbell rings and Peter stops, he frowns. Mr. Stark isn’t expected to visit him today, and May isn’t due for dinner until a couple of hours.

With a sigh, he stands and walks across his apartment. He opens the door to an unfamiliar face wearing a familiar and unwelcome FBI jacket.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Woo,” he says.

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his card as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth.

It’s an awkward moment. Him just standing there, in the hall, and Peter basks in his ability to make a Fed sweat.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Are you a vampire?”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Vampires,” sighes Peter. “They have to be let in. Feds usually don’t wait for an invitation. Not used to one having manners.”

Peter walks away from the door, leaving it open, and hoping that’s enough of an invitation. It isn’t like he has a choice anyway.

Agent Woo shuts the door behind him, and something stabs at Peter. He’s being rude. His aunt taught him better than that, and there’s something about Agent Woo that Peter decides he likes. The magic trick, maybe.

Peter offers him coffee. Agent Woo looks over at the kitchen, which is admittedly a disaster zone, and politely declines.

“So, what’s your job?” asks Peter. He clears a space off of the dining room table for them to both sit down. “Making sure I’m not staging an escape attempt?”

“Basically, I’ll be dropping by from time to time, to ensure you’re behaving yourself,” says Agent Woo. “Tony Stark did bribe me to harass you about your online classes and that’s not typically part of my job description, I need the money for my children’s college -”

“-you have kids?”

“Not yet, but I plan to, and with the way the economy is-” Agent Woo pauses. “We’re really supposed to be talking about you.”

“I’m behaving myself,” says Peter. “I’m attending my online classes, and I’ve got no plans to take up a new identity and flee the country. Now back to you. Anyone special you’re planning on having these kids with? I need all the details.”

It’s true. He does.

There isn’t much entertainment in his life what with being locked up in an apartment, spending most of his days alone. It’s for May’s safety that they aren’t able to live together during his house arrest, during the massively long stretch of time before his trial, but that doesn’t mean Peter likes it.

Agent Woo spills something about a doctor before pausing a second time and getting back on track. He recites the same information Peter’s heard before. It’s really boring and a waste of time, but Peter supposes he’s got lots of it to waste, anyway.

“Any questions for me?” Agent Woo asks, once he’s finished with his spiel.

“Can you show me how to do that magic trick?”

“Maybe another time,” he tells him, then looks around. “You know, a lot of people in your situation find it helps to form a routine and create a clean living space. Waking up in the morning, showering, putting on normal clothes.”

Peter frowns at the sudden callout. “Who says pajamas aren’t normal?”

“Just offering some friendly advice.”

He stands, and heads for the door, telling him he’ll be by in a couple of weeks, when Peter feels the throbbing near his ankle.

“Agent Woo,” says Peter, before he gets to the door. “You wouldn’t, um, know how to loosen the ankle monitor? I may have been what Mr. Stark fondly refers to as tactless with the agent who put it on and they may have retaliated just a little bit.”

So, Agent Woo loosens the ankle monitor, and Peter, once he’s alone in the apartment, collapses on his couch and decides that he and Agent Woo are going to be friends, despite the unsolicited advice.

Peter’s prepared the next time Agent Woo visits.

Coffee is going, the apartment is clean, and he’s got five packs of playing cards laid out on the kitchen table. It had been a lot of whining on his part to convince Mr. Stark to drop everything and run to the store and buy them, but this is an emergency. A magic emergency.

He’s also ordered a pizza, and it arrives just as Agent Woo starts his regular round of checkup, interrogation questions.

“Oh, that’s the pizza,” says Peter, when the doorbell rings.

Agent Woo opens his mouth as Peter leaps up from his chair, but ultimately doesn’t say anything. Once Peter’s back to the kitchen table, he opens the box and lets the aroma fill the apartment.

“Want a slice?”

“That would be crossing professional bounds…” says Agent Woo. His voice trailed off. He stared at the pizza. “But that pizza looks really good, and I haven’t had lunch…”

Peter pushes the box closer to the FBI agent. Agent Woo grabs a slice, and official talk about Peter’s detainment falls to the wayside.

“Tell me about the doctor,” says Peter. “Is she pretty?”

Agent Woo obliges, and Peter begins to understand why Woo’s crushing on her so hard. She sounds kickass. And Peter’s rooting for them.

“You gotta ask her out, man,” says Peter. A string of melt cheese hangs off his mouth and swipes it away. “I mean, Agent Woo.”

The agent laughs, and by the time he leaves, Peter knows how to do the magic trick and almost no time was spent talking about his upcoming trial or the conditions of his house arrest.

Peter bleeds out on his living room floor.

He hadn’t meant to get stabbed. He hadn’t even meant to step out of his apartment, but it’s getting to him. The confinement. The crime happening below his apartment and he’s expected to sit by and let happen.

Mr. Stark is going to kill him, and he wouldn’t have called him if not for the pain, the unbearable pain of his skin stitching itself back together. Superpowered healing doesn’t come without it’s trauma.

To make matters worse, his doorbell rings, and he isn’t expecting anyone, so he knows it’s Agent Woo.

He inhales deep. He tries freeing his face from displaying the terrifying agony he’s experiencing in his leg, and he limps over to answer the door.

Agent Woo isn’t fooled. “Jesus Christ, is that blood?”

“Is that Delmar’s?” Peter momentarily forgets his situation when he spots the brown bag in Agent Woo’s hand, and when he smells the unforgetful aroma of Delmar’s Deli.

“Forget the sandwiches,” says Agent Woo. He walks into the apartment, helps Peter back to the couch, and places the bag on the coffee table. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t freak out,” he tells him. “I accidentally stabbed myself with a steak knife.”

Agent Woo stands, crosses his arms. “I’m supposed to believe you did that to yourself? On accident?”

“To be fair,” says Peter. “You’ve known me long enough to know that’s also extremely probable.”

“How could you do this,” says Agent Woo. He isn’t angry. His voice sounds the same as Mr. Sark’s had on the phone. Worried. Afraid for him, and what’s done, putting his own privilege of pretrial house arrest on the line for a few minutes fighting petty criminals. “You know what’s at stake if you break the rules.”

“I know,” says Peter, softly. “I’m sorry.”

“We need to put pressure on that.”

Agent Woo disappears from his sight and returns with a towel he carefully ties around Peter’s leg wound.

“Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”

Peter shakes his head. “Spider healing will work it’s magic.”

He closes his eyes and tries to block out the pain, and when that doesn’t work, he decides a distraction is what he needs.

“Tell me about Dr. Lewis,” he says, through a grimace. “Have you asked her out yet?”

Agent Woo sits on the couch next to him. “Not yet.”

“You gotta get on that,” says Peter. “Before someone else does.”

“I don’t know about that, Pete,” he tells him. “I don’t know if someone like her would say yes to someone like me.”

“Someone like you? Someone who’s a nice person? And likes all the same cheesy sit-coms as her?” asks Peter. “Dude, you two are perfect for each other. You’re gonna ask her, and she’s going to say something like geez, finally, I was waiting for you to get a clue, and then you’ll have little Dr. Lewis-Woos running around all over the place.” He stops, the pain stabs, and he keeps going. “She’d be lucky.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Anytime,” says Peter, his voice cracking. The edges of his vision blur, but he’s able to focus on the brown bag on the coffee table. “You really brought me Delmar’s?”

“Last time I was here you said how much you missed it.”

“Make a habit of doing favors for murders? Fun.”

The pain’s making him more bitter, more honest, more angsty about the fact that the entire world thinks he’s killed that clown Mysterio. Maybe that’s what his temporary escape is really about. Trying to prove that he’s good. That he’s against the crimes people say he’s committed.

“I know you’re not a murderer.”

The entire world minus one, he guesses, along with his friends and family.

“You believe me?”

“I’ve dealt with killers before,” says Agent Woo. “You’re not one of them.”

Peter feels lighter, better even in his leg, by the idea of someone like Agent Woo believing his innocence. Gives him hope maybe his house arrest will end with freedom instead of prison, like Mr. Stark has been telling him from the start.

His good feeling doesn’t last long, though, because Mr. Stark barges through the door and Peter’s spidey senses know he’s about to get a lecture.

“How could you be so stupid?”

“Mr. Stark -”

“-No,” says Mr. Stark. “No excuses. I’ve warned you over and over again. Where is it?”

Peter pulls the device he’d built to interfere with the ankle monitor out from his pocket, and hands it over to Mr. Stark, who breaks it.

“For a genius,” says Agent Woo, as he eyes the broken parts of the interference device. “You really lack common sense.”

Mr. Stark turns his attention to Agent Woo. “Look, Agent -”

“-I’m off duty,” says Agent Woo, standing up from the couch. “Just a guy bringing some sandwiches, and I’ve really got no reason to believe he didn’t slip and fall, uh, on a kitchen knife. Just… never again.”

Peter nods his head. “Okay, yeah, never again.”

Agent Woo leaves them, Mr. Stark softens and gives him his extra strength pain relievers, and Peter drifts off, but not before devouring the sandwiches he loves and dwelling on the tiny spark of hope Agent Woo offered to him.

Not everyone believes he's a murderer, and for that moment, it’s enough.

#febuwhumpday12 #Peter parker #house arrest #agent jimmy woo

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another-random-dom-2 · 3 years

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The Principal's Office pt. 2 - Michael & James

(The following is fantasy. All characters are 18 or older.)

Michael:

I didn't cry, as I kissed his shoes, or as the nurse who came in 'checked me for damage', as she put it. Apparently, that's mandatory after a beta student gets smacked in the nuts. Apparently, getting smacked in the nuts might be something I have to try my hardest to get used to.

James was long gone by the time I really pulled myself back together. I was so glad that Claire was waiting for me outside the office though. If you're going to go through something like that, you really do need to see a friendly face on the other side of it.

It was so shocking. Up until today, even after Selection made things weird, I'd have said that James, Claire and I were best friends. We *literally* went to kindergarten together! And then out of nowhere for him to just ... Anyway, when Claire put her arm around my shoulder and asked me how I was, and I could see on her face how bad she was feeling for me, that's when I cried.

I was so angry, and hurt, physically and otherwise, I tried to talk but the tears just streamed down my face. Claire held me close. I needed that so much. I started to blubber something about James, and how could he, but she just cut me off. And I couldn't believe that the words she'd said had come out of her mouth.

'James was right.'

I was sobbing, with a black eye and bruised balls, and my best female friend was telling me my best male friend was right to have done it. I felt a rage rise up in me, but when I pulled back from her hug to look at her, I could see how hard it had been for her to say it. How much she was hurting for me. So instead of screaming, I just bitterly asked her what the fuck.

I don't deserve a friend like Claire. Because, sad to say, she was actually right. She was right that James was right. She had seen the nurse come and go, and she knew enough about how things worked to guess the rest. And James hadn't done anything wrong.

Claire pointed out that all James had done was trip me, which wouldn't have even been the hugest deal before Selection. Just a dumb prank. I was the one who called him a name, and in front of people.

Claire's voice softened, like she was pleading with me to understand. I knew how important it was to her for the three of us to get along. She'd always been the glue. She went on, reminding me that alphas have to command betas' respect. They have to do what it takes, including, if necessary, a black eye or a nut-shot. And a beta, which, like it or not, is what I am, has to learn to take it.

I cried even harder when I realised she was right. I just had to learn to deal with a fucking crappy situation. It isn't like I have an alternative. I hope James isn't too pissed at me for disrespecting him like that. Claire is right, her and James are the best people to help me get in the right mindset, to get through this. Because they're my friends, and they care about me, it'll be easier to get used to how things are, with them.

I can still barely believe she had me crawl behind her when we went to our last class of the day. Or that she ordered me to show Lucy my bruised balls, when she asked Claire about 'your pet's black eye'. But I knew it was working. With Claire metaphorically holding my hand it was a lot easier to deal with. And this *is* the life I have to get used to.

The way Lucy giggled at my bruised sack though. The way Claire joined in. I knew she had to do it, but fuck if it didn't sting. When the final bell rang, I walked Claire home. I was still stressing about James, but she said she'd take care of it. I knew she would.

She said all I needed to do was get through my homework, and get a good night's sleep. And to be at her place bright and early in the morning, to carry her bag as we walked to class. I said 'Yes, Ma'am' and she grinned, patted me on the head like a puppy, and said, 'Good beta'.

Coming from Claire, it didn't feel so bad.

James:

Most. Fucked. Up. Day. Ever.

This wasn't what was supposed to happen. None of this. When I tripped Michael I wasn't trying to be all sadistic alpha. I was just being a dumbass, the same as any other day. Selection wasn't that long ago. Maybe I'm still getting used to the extra female attention, if you see what I mean. Like, I haven't exactly used my authority yet, in that area. They do say to take your time, and wait until you're ready.

Maybe that's why I let those girls convince me that doing something stupid like tripping up 'some loser beta', to show that I was getting into the swing of being an alpha, was a great idea. I figured Michael would get that I was just showing off for some honeys. I was gonna say sorry and thank him later, for the assist. No biggie. The next thing I know, he calls me a fucking dickhead in front of everybody. I didn't want to hit him, but if I hadn't, everybody would have thought ... And then that scene with the Principal. She said I had to do it, for him, me, school discipline, possibly national security. Fuck ... That woman is intense.

As soon as she let me go I was *gone*. Cut the rest of the day's classes and went home, feeling like shit. What the fuck was Michael going to say the next time I saw him? Or Claire? I felt so sick to my stomach the moment I realised that Claire would hear what I'd ended up doing to Michael.

By the time classes were over back on the campus, I was knee-deep in tribal warfare on a distant planet, thanks to the miracles of modern gaming. Just trying to take my mind off things. I probably would have continued battling my people's ancestral enemies well into the night, but I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket.

Claire just said 'I'm at your front door. Put down your virtual weapons and let me in.' She'd clearly guessed why I hadn't heard the doorbell. When I got downstairs and went to open the door, I just felt so sad about the way things had gone down. I was expecting her to be furious with me. But she just looked worried, and more than a little sad herself. Still I expected her to tell me how bad I'd fucked up.

Instead she looked at me, serious but calm, and asked me if I was ok. And when she saw the look on my face she just stepped through the door and gave me a huge hug. I hadn't realised how badly I needed one. I didn't cry, but I was a mess. She led me back up to my room. She was always the strong one, out of the three of us.

I told her that it was hard to believe she'd just stopped by to check how I was doing, given what I'd done. She took my hand and told me not to feel bad. Said that it had been Michael's choice to disrespect me like that, and that everything after that had just been me doing what I'd had to do.

When I pointed out that I was the one who'd tripped him, she said alphas need to learn to behave like alphas, and she made me look in her eyes as she said that I'm an alpha now. She talked softly about how everybody has a place in things. I have to be an alpha. Michael has to be a beta, and that means learning to swallow his pride. Which is true. A public outburst like that, out in the real world? The punishment would be a *lot* worse.

And then she smiled and said that she had a place in things too. I think my brain kinda stopped working right around that point. I honestly couldn't believe where she seemed to be going with this. Her fingers lightly stroked the palm of my hand as she said the Selection isn't just about how boys treat each other, after all. Girls like her also have a role to play.

Like, for example, if she happened to find herself in an alpha's bedroom, part of her role was to be ready and willing to drain every last drop of cum from his beautiful alpha balls, absolutely any way he wanted ... Holy fuck ...

Asking a girl if she's serious, when she's already rubbing your dick through your sweatpants, doesn't exactly scream 'cool and confident', does it? But I mean, it's Claire! I've literally known her as long as I can remember being alive. The three of us have always just been ... us. But the way she was looking at me; that was new.

It was hard to think after she'd pulled down my waistband, as her fingertips stroked my suddenly rock-hard dick. And her words, the things she was saying ... That as an alpha I have a duty to live like an alpha, and women, like her (did she actually just wink at me?) have the honour and pleasure of giving alphas like me what they need.

She told me it was about time I started playing my part, fully. I don't fully understand how the smirk on her face was so sexy to me, as she said that being an alpha isn't all fun and games, like kicking betas in the nuts. It's also hard work, like fucking hot sluts in their tight holes. She saw the look on my face, and just grinned. 'What, too soon?'

My brain still wasn't working right, but I still laughed at that. Her hands were still stroking and caressing me. She got me naked, and sat me down. "Ok, stud," she said, "I have two questions for you, and in a few minutes I expect answers to them both. The first is which of my holes would you like to cum in first? The second is which 3 of our female classmates do you want to fuck this week?" I think I just stared at her, with my mouth open. She asked me if I understood, and I just nodded.

She asked me if I'd like some inspiration, while I considered my options. I just nodded again. With another of those strange, new smiles on her face, she got down on her knees between my legs. Then she opened her mouth, and leaned forward. And then I found out what heaven feels like ...

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