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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

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Business (Mis)Management

AYO you know the drill. MGI Trope Tussle!

Fics Masterlist

Timari Oneshot 2.3K words

Summary:

"Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making. "

One shot using two prompts for this server event: Day 3:College AU Day 5: "Why'd you do that?" "I- I don't know..."

without further ado:

It was Tuesday, bright and early at 9:30 am, and Marinette was ready to commit murder. She was sitting in her Intro to Business Management course with her cup of coffee and notepad ready and pencil about to snap in her grip. Right before her, where her professor usually stood every Tuesday and Thursday, stood a surprise guest lecturer. One problem, though. Marinette hates the guy. She hates him and his stupid well-fitting suit that she dedicated actual blood sweat and tears into making.

Right there, on this awful Tuesday morning, stood one Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne looking all the world like he would rather be anywhere else; stupid rich people were all the same, thinking the world was doing them a favour by letting them grace everyone else with their presence. Marinette also wishes he was anywhere else but life doesn’t work that way. Her actual professor stood off to the side, waxing sonnets about how accomplished the young CEO was and Marinette listened to none of it. Rather, she was silently stewing in her thoughts, lost in how this man became the particularly large thorn in her side.

It was six months ago when she got an email asking for a commission. A commission for the exact three piece suit he was wearing today. He had gotten her contact from another client and his emailed request was perfect and professional. He had asked for the suit, listed all the required measurements and requested any personalizations he wanted. They couldn’t meet for any in-person fittings so it was currently both aggravating and satisfying to see it fit his lean figure so perfectly. The drama didn’t start, however, until two weeks after, when Marinette had sent the finished product to the designated address. While Marinette isn’t one for showboating and bragging about her capabilities, it grinds her teeth when others try to talk down on her skills.

When Marinette had sent off the suit, and emailed the man that the package was to be expected within three business days, she got a rather crude email in response, labeling her work as ‘tacky’ and a ‘pathetic attempt at wiggling her way into his family’s pockets.’ That had her doubletaking at the sender, making sure it wasn’t some spam mail that she was reading. Nope, that’s his email right there. Marinette remembered a particular twitch she had in her eye the first time she read that email. It was one thing to be ungrateful of a finished product, Marinette was no stranger to harsh critiques and pieces that worked better on paper than as actualized designs, but the accusation of being a gold-digger set off warning bells that threw her back into the tenth grade where she had battles with a rich blonde with daddy issues. At least he had paid her in advance for the suit. Marinette would have been perfectly fine with silently cutting all ties with Mr. Wayne right then and there, and putting the whole ordeal behind her, until he decided that a crassly worded email wasn’t enough. No. He felt compelled to go on national television and insult her suit for everyone to hear. Marinette remembers his words perfectly, as if they were ingrained in her memory forever.

“You’ve seen the suits I’ve worn, I look like I escaped my own funeral. I’ve tried local, and outsourcing designers and tailors and nothing matches my taste. I’m only twenty-three and I dress like I’ve gone through my third divorce—”Marinette had turned off the television to shamelessly cry into her pillow. She couldn’t bear to hear him insult her design over the poorly timed laughs of the ‘live-studio audience’ that particular interview was filmed in front of.

After that, Marinette had reaffirmed her conclusion that all rich people were assholes best left to their own privileged bubble.

A solid clap snapped her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowing at the man by the podium. The presentation pulled up on the smart board indicated that he was going to be speaking to them about professionalism and how to engage in buyer-seller conversations. Oh that was bloody perfect. What did this guy know about any of those things?

The time was 9:45 exactly when the guy decided to start his presentation.

“Hello, everyone,” his voice was smooth and firm, not wavering while speaking before a hall filled with two hundred students. “My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne but you all can just call me Tim. It’s lovely to meet all of you and I’m honoured to be here speaking for you today.”

Cue a very predictable, very standard, very boring introduction. Marinette was beginning to tune out at this point.

“To start off this presentation, I would like to talk about misunderstandings in professional conversations.” He started walking across the front of the room. Slow and methodical; he knew he had all eyes on him and he was taking full advantage of it. Marinette wanted to gag. “Additionally, I want to discuss how to avoid them, and what to do if miscommunication occurs.”

Blah, blah blahblah. Marinette didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“To start off, I’m going to talk about a situation I found myself in not too long ago.” That caught her attention. “It’s funny now and makes for great dinner conversation but not so much when it had happened. How many of you siblings?”

He paused and surveyed the room. His eyes passed over Marinette and for a brief second she thought he focused on her for a blink longer than necessary. She banished the thought from her mind; she didn’t have siblings so he had no reason to notice her.

“Now,” he continued, “how many of you have siblings who aren’t afraid to sabotage your work when they’re mad at you?”

Another pause as some of the students lowered their hands. Some were unsure and Marinette had a weird feeling in her gut. Her instincts were screaming at her but she couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t feel shy,” the guy raised his hand to join the students, “my younger brother is a menace who can and has attempted to sabotage my business. Just recently in fact.”

Marinette looked around the room to see quite a few surprised faces. She was vaguely familiar with the Wayne family and remembered a few details about the youngest child. He was a menace, that’s for sure. As egotistical as any thirteen year old can be. That feeling in her gut returned with vigor. She was suddenly very alert and eager, almost desperate, to figure out how the ankle biter had sabotaged this man.

“About six months ago my brothers and I were butting heads as usual. My sister was enjoying everything while shit hit the fan from a safe distance. I’m not going to go into much details.” He’s arms were waving animatedly as he spoke. It was quite endearing. NO. Bad thoughts, Marinette. “The point of all this is that I pissed my younger brother off somehow. I don’t know, maybe I breathed too hard on his cat or something.” That got a laugh out of the students except Marinette. Six months. He said his brother had sabotaged him around six months ago. That gut feeling had turned her stomach into a pit, eating away at her nerves.

“My brother had hacked into my email and sent absolutely horrible replies to everyone that was marked as important in my contacts in a poor attempt at pretending to be me. Of course, most of those contacts work at Wayne Enterprises. It took a courtesy email explaining the mishap and a personal visit with an apology gift to clear the air. Now for the contacts who don’t work at Wayne E, that’s where it gets tricky.”

Marinette was holding her breath, wishing for this day to already be over and for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She both hoped she was and wasn’t wrong. On the one hand, it meant that he was truly that harsh in replying to her and she wasn’t among the contacts his brother emailed, justifying her slowly dwindling fury. On the other more plausible hand, it meant that he wasn’t responsible for the crude email. It still didn’t explain the interview he did but…but she never did watch the entire thing. She had started watching the interview already expecting him to tear her down. He never referenced her suit by any specifics before she had changed the channel. That probably meant that she had poorly misjudged him. But she would have been contacted in some way if she was among those people and she hadn’t. So he was still an ass to her. Right?

“For those who I couldn’t visit in person,” Oh god, he was still speaking. “I sent them more personal emails compared to what I sent the employees. That was really the most I could do and I hoped for the best. I got a reply from most; they were rather understanding, actually, some even claiming that their own siblings would do something like that. It went over pretty well.” He suddenly had this forlorn look as he rubbed his hands absentmindedly against the suit.

“While I was lucky that most of my contacts were understanding, one important thing to be prepared for is people who won’t be that forgiving. Do you see this suit I’m wearing? I love this suit. I will absolutely get buried in this suit. I had commissioned and received it just before the email fiasco and I, regrettably, never got a response when I tried to both thank and apologize to them. My brother had used my email to accuse them of being a gold-digger of all things. I would have loved to commission them again but it looks like my brother burned that bridge permanently.”

What? No. That’s not true and Marinette felt hot rage flare up in her. Was he really lying to try and save face right now? She felt the strong urge to interrupt him. To march down those steps and let him know exactly how she felt about him lying about emailing her to apologize. But, a treacherous hopeful part of herself whispered to her, she had to be sure. She had to have irrefutable proof that she wasn’t one of the victims to his rabid brother and he was just an ass.

She couldn’t get to her phone fast enough. She searched for all the emails the two had exchanged, finding the most recent to be his harsh email. She had another niggling feeling, however, and decided to check her spam mail.

Marinette has most definitely stopped breathing.

Right there, in bold letters sat a Wayne Enterprises email waiting to be opened and read. She couldn’t bring herself to click it open, ice flooding her veins, freezing her in her seat. She actually misread the situation. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bash her head on the table and grovel for forgiveness from this very handsome man. She didn’t do any of this, however, managing some degree of composure and sat through the remainder of his presentation. She would bet her left leg it was the best presentation she would have ever heard but she couldn’t recall a single word of it from that point on; too busy digging her own grave and writing her own eulogy. She could never show her face around Gotham again. Her life was ruined.

The sounds of people packing up had her crawling herself out of her own head. She mechanically packed her things up, gazing pathetically at her blank notebook. She made her way down the steps, eyeing the gaggle of students surrounding Marinette’s biggest missed opportunity to date. She was just about to walk straight out the door, resigning herself to her fate when she made a hasty decision. She turned to the dwindling crowd and marched like a woman on a mission. She wormed her away to stand directly in Tim’s line of sight and she braced herself for possibly her dumbest idea yet. She listened to the conversation going on and as soon as it appeared she was not going to interrupt anyone, she shot her hand out and grabbed him by his suit. The act caught everyone’s attention but before she could chicken out, she turned to leave and pulled the businessman along with her, leaving stunned silence behind.

They didn’t get far out the door when he yanked her arm off him, stopping them in their tracks. He looked angry, confused but also very put out at her. Fair.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I— I don’t know.” His glare was intense. Marinette felt her face flush and her knees weaken. She wanted to make things right but it seemed she was only making things worse. She took a breath. Focus, she reminded herself. She just needed to address one problem at a time. “I mean, I do know why but I wasn’t supposed to do it like that. I just needed your attention.”

“Well now you have it. So what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize. Not about dragging you out here. Yet. But for accidentally ignoring your apology email.” One of his eyebrows rose incredulously as she kept talking, but she ignored it and powered on. “It was, for some reason, in my spam mail and I didn’t see it. But if it’s any consolation, I would love it if you commissioned me for another suit. Or anything else really.”

“Pardon?” He didn’t believe her, or was at least confused by her, that much she could tell.

“You suit. I made it. Here, look.” She turned her phone screen, showing him their conversations in her emails. At his slightly more relaxed posture she continued speaking. “I’m glad you like the suit.”

“Huh.”

“Also I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” She had curled her shoulders into her ears, still holding her phone out like an idiot. His chuckle in response eased her nerves only slightly. He had a cute laugh. And he was cute too. Bad thoughts! Stop getting distracted!

“Okay, I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine.” The carefree smile he threw at her was disarming. “And I would love to talk more about working with you, Ms. Cheng.”

“Marinette, please, Mr. Wayne.” She could breathe easier now, no longer on the verge of catastrophizing. “If you want to get started as early as possible, I’m free for an early lunch right now.”

“Only if you call me Tim. And lunch sounds great actually. I know a great bistro off campus if you will let me escort you.” He really needed to stop smiling at her like that. Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.” He turned and offered her his arm. She was slow to move, still faintly caught in the emotional whiplash of the morning. Her gentle grip on his bicep was enough for her to feel the muscle definition under the suit. It pleasantly surprised her but not nearly as much as his next words.

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

What?

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tsumuki · 3 years

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haikyuu boys as different types of love languages

a/n basically the boys i think most embody the 5 basic love languages; super random but

physical touch as sugawara koushi

constantly touching you in some way whether it be patting your head, holding you hand, rubbing your back

greets you with a hug and kiss every morning and every night when he drops you off

also guides you by having his hand on the small of your back in the hallways, so it’s not as obvious as holding hands

but in private he’s all over you, laying on top of while you have your arms and legs wrapped around him, when you’re cooking he’s hugging you from behind, or when you’re working he’ll take your hand and use the excuse “i can type with one hand”

“koushi i cant breathe” you say as he lays on top of you, in attempt to cuddle you.

“it’s okay you can die like this” he says as he nuzzles further into your neck. you hit his back lightly, letting out an airy laugh. his warmth spreads through your body and you inhale his scent.

he gets up and looks at you as he flips you over, so now your laying on his chest and straddling his waist. “better now?” he says with a cheeky grin.

you feel your cheeks heat up as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer, teasing him as your lips brush against each other.

“so that’s how you wanna play?” he questions as he quirks his brow, he moves his hands lower to your waist pulling you even closer.

“two can play at this game babe.”

words of affirmation as oikawa tooru

oikawa is no stranger to self doubt and insecurities, but since he knows what it feels like, he never wants you to feel that way

tells you everyday that he loves you, even if you guys are fighting, he will make an effort to send at least a text, reminding you that he loves you

reminds you every morning how beautiful you look, definitely a great hype man.

knows that his fan girls can be a lot sometimes, so he puts in extra effort to reassure you he only has eyes for you

you felt pathetic, crying on your boyfriends bedroom floor pouring out your insecurities. his fan girls were so beautiful, thin, and what were you?

his heart aches as he wraps his arms around you, cooing in your ear. if he could take the pain away he would, but he can’t. so he speaks up instead,

“baby, you know what i love about you?” he waits for a reply, continuing when he’s met with silence,

“i love when your eyes light up when you talk, or how you look when the moon lights your face when we walk at night.”

he hears your cries start to soften, his heart warming as he continues.

“i also love how your cheeks lift when you smile, or how your hair flows when you let it down” he kisses your head,

“baby i could go on, but we’d never stop. i know how you’re feeling, but if you remember anything i tell you tonight, remember, you’re my world. if only you could see yourself from my eyes, you’d love yourself beyond compare. and i’ll always be here to remind you of what you’re worth”

he kisses the top of your head and lifts your head up so you meet eyes, “okay?”

“okay.”

quality time as kenma kozume

introverted bby so he prefers staying in with you, usually orders food and listens to you ramble about your day or whatever else is on your mind

isn’t the most talkative, but a great listener. when you’ve run out of things to talk about you two just enjoy each other’s presence while doing your own thing

always makes an effort to walk you home after school so you can spend more time together

will sometimes show up to your house unannounced and lays on your bed while you do homework or talk to your friends

you don’t have to be talking to each other, but he’s comforted knowing you’re around

“hey babe” you say as you enter his room, he greets you back as you make your way to his bed. he lifts up his arms allowing you to rest your head on his lap.

“how was your day” he says, eyes still glued to his monitor. you rub his thigh and start your ramble about today’s stories, but then you stop. worry creeping in about talking to much and potentially annoying him since he was gaming.

“why’d you stop, i’m still listening babe”

although it’s small, you can’t help but feel your heart swell knowing you’re not a bother to him, even with your constant rambling.

not long after you two fall into a comfortable silence and you get up and pull out your work from your bag and mindlessly start. you notice kenma starting to dose off, soon he’s the one who rests his head on your lap.

you sigh contently as you bring your hand to his hair and play with the ends, he hums when he feels your touch. you smile as you push your work the the side and you close your eyes as well, dosing off as well.

you can always finish your work later, you think to yourself as you slip into unconsciousness, your hand still playing with kenma’s hair.

acts of service as iwaizumi hajime

isn’t the best with words so decides to let his actions do the talking

does small things like walking you to class even if his class is the other way or walk you home even if he’s tired from practice

i also believe he’s a great cook, so he prepares lunches and snacks for you while he’s making his

also when your sick he’ll pick up your work from your classes, prepare some food for you, and will care for you while you’re sick

or when you’re stressed w school or work he’ll tidy up your room / house so you come home to a clean space so you’re able to relax. overall motherly af

everything was falling apart. no matter how much you tried to balance out your school, work, social life, and clubs it never worked out, something was always overlooked and missed.

you received many texts and reminders from iwaizumi to not over work yourself. although you knew you should’ve told him, you hid it from him, not wanting him to worry. he has been working so hard with his work, that you don’t want to add any stress. so you put on a smile.

you groan as you clock out of work, making your way back to you and iwaizumi’s apartment. once you get home you’re met with a delicious aroma. you’re confused, to your knowledge iwaizumi had been working late tonight.

you make your way into the apartment to be met with iwa’s back to you, as he cooks something on stove. you scan the apartment to see your books and papers organized and everything that littered the floors and tables, put away and tidied.

you exhale contently, your heart swelling at the sight as he turns around and pulls you into his arms rubbing your back. the simple act makes your eyes water.

“i know how stressed you’ve been. you don’t have to hide it” is all he says, and your few tears turn into sobs. he stays silent as he continues rubbing your back trying to sooth you, letting you know he’s here. once your tears dry he kisses your temple.

“i have a bath running for you babe, wash up and we’ll eat when you’re done” he says as he kisses you again, “and i’ll bring your clothes, they’re in the dryer”

you feel your eyes water again, not because of stress or sadness, but because you can’t contain how much you truly love him. you smile and nod, pulling him to hug him again.

“thank you so much.”

gift giving as akaashi keiji

mans is a sucker for cheesy romantic stuff

brings you a bouquet every time you guys have a date, isn’t necessarily the biggest bouquet but makes an effort to bring you one every time

goes ham when it’s your birthday, christmas, valentines, etc. holiday? you better prepare to be bombarded with gifts.

also loves taking you shopping. you always tell him he doesn’t have to buy you anything but insists. and when you see something you like but decide against getting it, he’ll buy it for you the next day

even small things like when he’s walking home and he sees a stuffed bear, he’ll buy it for you saying “it reminded him of you and he absolutely had to get it” or picking up your favorite snack and bringing it to you at much

you always tell him he doesn’t have to get you anything to be happy but he insists, that doesn’t mean you don’t shower him in gifts as well

you’re rushing through your apartment as you’re putting the final touches on your outfit for you and akaashi’s date. you jump when you hear the doorbell.

you swing the door open to be met with a face full of flowers. you blush at the sight, no matter how many times you’ve received flowers from him, you’re still flustered. you gesture him to come in, taking the flowers from his hands, thanking him.

“hey babe you look great” he says as he kisses you on the cheek. you smile back as you put the flowers into the vase with the preexisting flowers.

“you know i’m gonna drown in flowers one day if you keep getting me them babe” you say in a joking tone, he chuckles with you, “at least you’ll die a beautiful death” he retorts, laughing as you lightly hit his shoulder

he smiles as he takes both your hands, looking you up and down, “beautiful absolutely beautiful” he says, voice full of admiration. your heart swells at his simple words. “only for you” you say with a smile resting softly on your face.

“you know what would make it better though?” he asks, you shoot him a confused look and he reaches in his pocket pulling out a small velvet box.

your eyes widen and heart drops as he reveals a simple ring. he laughs at your obviously shocked expression, “hey it’s just a promise ring,” he starts, worry slightly seeping from his words, “don’t worry, this is just as a reminder, that i’ll love you forever” he finishes as he slips the ring onto your finger

you feel your eyes slightly water at his words, feeling overwhelmed with your emotions. cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

“so promise you want drown in my flowers before i make it a real one” he says with a cheeky grin

“promise.”

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #hq imagines #hq x you #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #akaashi imagine #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi imagine #oikawa smut #oikawa imagine #kenma angst #sugawara headcanon #sugawara scenario #haikyuu kenma #kenma imagine

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wh6res · 3 years

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taeyong — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. when your soulmate gets a wound or cut, flowers bloom on the same spot in your body.

synopsis. you’re desperate to meet your soulmate. maybe you can put a stop to the flowers stubbornly blooming on your wrists.

warnings. tread cautiously. mentions of mental illness (depression, attempted suicide), swearing, manipulation, implied self-harm, dubious content, forced relationship, unconsensual touching near the end, ty pulling the sadboi agenda

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

by the time you’re graduating high school, you’re used to the sorry glances people sent your way.

for someone so young, you have more flowers blooming on your skin than any adult. a few small pieces of it blooming in the corner of your cheek, near the jawline. a few of them on your thighs.

but the most concerning piece is the one on your wrists that are fully covered by the flowers, your skin nowhere to be seen with all the lilies of the valley tainting your skin.

yet the worse has got to be the summer before senior year. you had been halfway done with the college entrance examination for a local university. your parents said the pain you felt the first time will turn into a mild itch whenever the flowers form on your skin.

it started small, absentmindedly scratching at something on your neck. initially, you thought it was the heat, your sweat, and the fabric of your clothes irritating the sensitive skin. but when you walked up to the proctor to turn in your exam, you knew that apologetic stare like nothing else—but his eyes had flickered down to your neck.

when your friends blew up your phone, asking where you are to celebrate, you lied and headed straight back home, head ducked, collars upturned, hiding the lilies of the valley wrapped around your throat like some insignia.

a year later, you end up studying soulmate theory in university. they say it’s a useless course as there can be no scientific explanation to soulmates. you like thinking you chose the course because of sheer interest but really, you’re just finding an explanation, some external reason that probably bore no results but you trudged forward anyway.

you’re restless in the pursuit of finding him—or her, you couldn’t care less. the hurt you feel weighs heavy in your heart each time you feel them blooming on your wrist, mind plagued with worry.

your roommate interrupts your deep thinking as she practically throws herself onto your bed. “i have an idea!” she cheers, determined. “why not part-time in the school clinic? that way if people come in, you can compare their cuts to your flowers.”

“now, you just might be onto something there.”

the hunt for your soulmate still wasn’t easy despite working in the university’s clinic and it only got worse each day. your schedule is killing you, you’re slightly getting behind in some subjects, and you practically live in the library.

contrary to popular opinions, soulmate theory can be a fucking bitch to study about. what with learning psychology, astrology, and botany all together. it was interesting how all these things can be factors in how people are paired to become soulmates. interesting, but rather complicated in a sense, too.

they say psychology and astrology dealt with two people’s compatibility. while botany, the meanings of the flowers themselves, was theorized to predict how the soulmate connection will affect their relationship—ultimately, roses were a really, really good sign.

you have been busy messing up your hair, utterly frustrated and irate—astronomy’s messing with your head and you can’t go a minute without scratching your wrists as the flowers bloomed after the other.

then something unexpected happened.

a lanky guy dressed in an all-black ensemble walked into the clinic. well, it was more of a being carried between two guys by the arms rather than walked in. everything about his clothes looked way too big to fit his delicate frame and it hardly looked like it was for fashion style purposes. his skin hugged his body to the bone, eyes sunken, and he looked so frail that a tiny shove would’ve sent him sprawled on the floor.

his name was taeyong and he lied on the bed unconscious, with handkerchiefs wrapped around his wrists like bandages—courtesy of his friends, who looked deathly worried for the fate of their poor friend. if he had lost any more blood, he would’ve died. you had never seen the clinic in such chaos, people running around, anxious. your leg muscles were sore from going back and forth from the nurse’s side to the cabinets storing all the medical supplies she needed.

it had been a whirlwind, and after your superior had patched and properly bandaged his cuts, you were left to look after him in the meantime as nurse jung tried contacting his guardian.

his friends—who you learned were named yuta and jaehyun, were snoozing outside on the bench across the hall, parallel with the clinic’s double-glass door, as they waited for their friend to wake up.

depression. suicidal. taeyong has been like that for his whole life, jaehyun stated earlier. you can only shoot a sorry look at the unconscious boy lying on the hospital bed.

it had already been dark outside when you came in to switch out his bandages for new ones—only to realize that his cut is exactly where you had been scratching earlier before he showed up.

you retracted, unbelieving of what that possibly entails. along the way, you’ve pieced together that your soulmate is probably struggling through something heavy, something that weighed him down so much that it made him believe hurting himself is the only solution, what with all the flowers on your skin.

“it’s him…” you mumble, wide eyed as you eyed the faded scars around his wrists, eerily aligned to the flowers blooming on your own.

you didn’t want to overwhelm him, that much was sure. you didn’t want to chase him away if he gets uncomfortable. so for weeks you started leaving anonymous notes in his locker. not the sappy love letter types, just little words of encouragement that could make his day better.

when their friend breaks out into the tiniest of smiles, yuta and jaehyun’s thankful eyes would scour around the halls. sneakily looking for you behind taeyong’s back. they understood where you’re coming from and hadn’t spoken a word of disagreement when you told them you didn’t plan to make yourself known as his soulmate yet.

and as if the notes were not enough, you start giving him his favorite starbucks drink every now and then—on days the flowers didn’t bloom as much as it normally would. you turn up half an hour early before lectures so you can place it on the table where he usually sits with his two best friends. even if his class is on the other side of campus, you’d still go.

but it only took three weeks of creeping around until you’re caught by your soulmate himself.

“do you want something from me?”

you didn’t know what to say, cat got your tongue as you stood before him holding the drink. you couldn’t weasel your way out and say the drink’s yours, not when he caught you standing before his usual seat, not when you were already leaning forward to place it on his desk.

“uhm… i…” you stutter pathetically, not being able to meet the intensity of his eyes.

“jaehyun and yuta aren’t exactly the most lowkey, especially with how much their eyes wander when i open my locker. so, do you want something from me? what are you playing at, stalker?”

the name he called you stung like a bitch but you can’t blame him for it. you knew him, he doesn’t know you. you’re giving him gifts anonymously. even if they were all from the goodness of your heart, from an outsider’s view, your actions still appeared sketchy.

“soulmate,” you correct him.

you watch his features twist into confusion, only for it to morph into shock once he’s digested what you just said. eventually, he schools his expression back to indifference. his stoic face is so intimidating, you thought, biting your bottom lip and fidgeting on your toes.

“what?”

“i’m your—i’m your soulmate.”

his eyes flicker downwards to peak a glance at the bouquet of flowers painted on your skin. colors as beautiful and vibrant as the day you got them, the stems of the bell-shaped flowers intricately woven into each other. for a split second, you even twist your arms a little, showing him the rock hard proof of your claim.

ever since you found him, you’ve always contemplated for the better part of your limited free time about what his reaction will be when he finds out you two are soulmates. will he accept you? or worse case scenario, pretend you didn’t exist? the possibilities are unknown especially with someone who seems to be going through so much that the last thing they wanted is this person who thinks they’re entitled to be part of their lives because the universe made it be that way.

not that you feel entitled… taeyong can reject you all he wants and you’ll give him the space he needs—

he’s crying.

and not the simple, small tears slowly streaming down his face one by one type of crying, no, his tears were an onslaught. full-on sobbing as he threw himself onto you, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, words heavily muffled by your coat.

“is it—” he hiccups. “true?”

you blink, from all the reactions you’ve gone through in your head, crying was the very last thing you expected from him—crying and hugging you like you’re the last person on earth and he’s been touch-starved until he found you.

maybe that was the case.

you wonder what jaehyun and yuta felt whenever taeyong ditched them to spend time with you—and that was pretty much all the time since he’s found you. he’s like a puppy, following you around wherever you go (unless he has classes) and had been neglecting his friends. whether it was intentional or not, whether his two friends were cool with it or not, you don’t know.

you try your best to smile every time he runs up to you on the other end of the hall, spotting you coming out of your own respective classroom after lectures are done.

he’s beaming like a child, inviting you to this cafe he wants to take you to—and pathetic ‘lil ‘ol you just can’t seem to say no to those huge expecting eyes.

but you’re not blind to the slight scowl on yuta’s face nor the razor sharp smile on jaehyun’s features. they want to hang out together, just boys, but now there’s this soulmate who’s suddenly more important than them—what happened to bros before hoes?

but they knew taeyong needed you. heck, he never once smiled like the way he did before he met you. it was like he’s become this whole new person with a child-like innocence reflecting his eyes.

“so?” your soulmate prompts just as his two friends came over, flanking him.

taeyong deflates the moment he sees the hesitance in your eyes. “uhm… i actually have a shift in the clinic, and nurse jung said the clinic isn’t some hang out place, so you can’t, uhh…” you trail, not wanting to finish the sentence.

a little white lie can’t hurt anyone, right?

taeyong shouldn’t depend on you all the time, not when he also has friends who care about his well-being and mental health just as much as you do. being soulmates didn’t mean he has to spend every waking moment with you and the faster he realizes, the better.

when you dashed away before he could even mutter out a reply, you miss the frown on his face, his eyes never once leaving your frame until you turned the corner.

people often favor the underdog. they have this gnawing urge in their gut to sympathize and unknowingly root for their own plot twist or happy ending.

people look at you and your soulmate and think you have poor, suicidal and depressed and sad taeyong eating at the palm of your hand, following you around like a lonely duckling—the undeniable underdog in a coming-of-age movie, the person shoved around until some bigger, more capable person comes to their rescue (in this case you, unfortunately).

but appearances have always been deceiving.

your little 3-week head start with getting to know your soulmate had only been on surface-level. you just wanted to help him but taeyong’s obvious attraction—can you even call it that? you’d like to think it’s more of infatuation—is off-putting for you. from standing way too close to putting an arm around you, from walking you to your lectures to walking you home, from the light headpats to having the guts to kiss your cheeks.

it’s too much and it wasn’t as if you basked in the public display of affection. whenever you tried telling him off in the most gentlest of ways, taeyong would frown and curl in on himself, eyes glossy, darting around, and looking like a kicked puppy.

you couldn’t leave him like that just because of some harmless skinship, right? he’s just excited and happy he’s found you. weren’t you also the first one to initiate? with all those notes and gifts you’ve given him? and now you’re backing away just because of a few touches?

“you know,” your roommate plops herself on the couch next to you, netflix movie playing as background. “you’re not obligated to fix him. you’re his soulmate, not his psychiatrist.”

you sigh, head diving into the couch pillows. “i’m not trying to fix him, i’m just…”

she raises a prodding eyebrow.

“…i’m just trying to be there for him.”

taeyong likes to think that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. but the sense of rush and sick pleasure running up and down his spine whenever you force a smile and give in to his wishes proves otherwise.

all his life he’s been pushed around. tasked to buy his old man beer and cigarettes and an assortment of drugs. if he turns up empty handed, guess who becomes a punching bag? and he has always been alienated throughout his school life. immature elementary kids aren’t exactly the kindest and would’ve picked on every single thing to appear cool to their friend groups. and poor little scrawny taeyong who didn’t speak and didn’t defend himself was just too easy of a target.

“uhm… you don’t—don’t need to walk me home all the time.” do you think so low of him that you believe he doesn’t sense your fake little giggle?

“but i like walking you home,” he pouts, jutting his lips just a wee bit more for extra measure. he makes sure his eyes are as round and glossy as can be, he noticed those puppy eyes are what gets to you the most.

he can tell by your tense shoulders, the clear hesitance in your face, that smile that looked too sweet to be real, and your averting eyes. you needn’t say anything for taeyong to figure you out. he isn’t blind to the lack of comfort you’ve developed by being with him.

he has to think of something or else you’ll be slipping through the gaps of his fingers.

he asked you out on valentine’s day. it wasn’t the simple, forgettable act of popping out the “hey, do you want to go out on a date with me?” question while holding a bouquet of flowers. taeyong made sure you’ll never forget this certain day that he had laid his claim on you—not that it needed to be vocalized, it was his wounds that made flowers bloom on your skin. the soulmate connection should be enough.

but taeyong wanted to go the extra mile.

with the help of his friends (yuta’s popular and jaehyun can be very persuasive), he’s got people handing you lilies of the valley every ten feet until you reach the auditorium in the main building. despite it blooming on your skin you’ve never really seen them in the flesh. they’re like dew drops, bell-like flowers growing in an elegant dip from it’s main stem and appearing no bigger than your thumb.

you were awed, but skeptical.

you meet taeyong by the end of your little journey, standing on a decorated stage with a bouquet of the flowers nestled delicately in his hands. the natural sunlight bleeding through the open windows giving him such a beautiful glow that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he had smiled and timidly gave you the flowers while asking.

“will you be my girlfriend?”

if only you’d look close enough, that sugar coated smile contrasted greatly to the sly flickers in his eyes. he knows how your actions are dictated by the reputation you’ve built. taeyong knows you'll say yes, because if you didn't, how could you have rejected your own soulmate who has made you the light of his life? he’s been nothing but kind to you and you’ve only pushed him away! you’re a monster! you should’ve saved him!

if him alone can’t make you say yes, maybe the pressure-induced stare of the whole student body can.

and as you shivered amidst taeyong’s suffocating hug, feeling the triumphant smirk against your head and his prodding nose as he sniffed your hair, you now understood why your body bloomed this specific woodland flower.

lilies of the valley are beautiful.

but lilies of the valley are poisonous, too.

the flowers remind you of taeyong.

making things official has only made things worse. taeyong has promised you that after being together he won’t try hurting himself anymore and that he’s a big boy and he can attend his therapy sessions alone. but the itching in your skin is as constant as ever and you just got off the phone with the receptionist of the clinic he goes to.

“are things alright? i haven’t seen taeyong since three weeks ago.”

if there’s one thing you absolutely hate doing with your soulmate, it’s confrontations. for the three months you’ve been together, taeyong has always, always spiraled out whenever you confront him about something. be it the mildest or the most superficial thing, what started out small will turn into a complete whirlwind and he’d be in a fit of tears by the end of it.

every single time.

you prefer happy taeyong than sad taeyong—if you can avoid it for as long as you can, you will. but you’re at your breaking point. him lying to you about his therapy sessions is the pin that popped the little balloon of security you’ve been protecting.

when you arrive home, he’s already there, crouched and sifting through your bookshelf. it wasn’t a surprise or anything out of the ordinary, he possesses the key to invite himself into your apartment any time. “hey, you’re home!” he immediately stands, barreling towards you.

he encircles his arms around you protectively as he pulls you flush against his body. you feel the tip of his nose prodding against your neck, hearing him inhaling your scent like cannabis.

you learned to ignore it, this habit of his—but just because you do doesn’t make you any less uncomfortable than the first time he did it.

you don’t bother hugging him back.

you were too pissed off to keep up with pretenses.

“the clinic called, said you weren’t attending your sessions. why were you lying to me?”

when pushed into a corner, you were never one to beat around the bush.

“i don’t like going alone, i told you that, remember?” he quickly replied, shoving you away. “i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just come with me for my sessions, don’t you think? you’re blowing this out of proportion when it’s all your fault.”

you wanted to pull at your hair. scratch that, you wanted to pull at his hair—no, not in that kind of way.

“how the fuck—” you stop. taeyong hates it when you curse. cursing will do you more harm than good. you inhale through your nostrils, willing yourself to calm down. “how is this my fault? i told you i have to run errands for professor kim!”

“then quit working there! they’re not even paying you, it’s just for extra credit! which you wouldn’t even fucking need if you weren’t flunking astronomy so bad.” taeyong must’ve seen your features twisting into that of betrayal. he was there when you were crying your eyes out because you failed the exam. he knew the subject was taking such a big toll on you.

how could he…

“don’t fucking look at me like that, kitten. you know it’s the truth.”

what is the point of this, some form of payback he’s subjecting you to? just because you didn’t come with him to his sessions? six months in this relationship and you already feel so drained, how would the universe expect you to keep up for a whole fucking lifetime together with him?

“why…” you choke, the tears building up in your eyes as your voice breaks. “so what do you want me to do, then?” you ask, because you genuinely don’t know.

does he want you to choose? is that it? you didn’t want to lose the credits, but you didn’t want to lose this relationship either, no matter how much you’re drowning in the toxicity of it all.

because this is your soulmate.

certainly, the universe wouldn’t destine you to each other if it would only bring forth chaos, right? taeyong has mentioned time and time again that this is his first relationship. of course, he’s depending on you to show him the ropes.

but it seems he isn’t really a big fan of how you do things.

“quit.”

you shake your head defeatedly. “you know i can’t. i’d have to take the whole subject again next semester and—”

“i said quit, dollface.” the finality in his tone renders you speechless. “then fucking take the subject again next semester! i don’t care. that’s your consequence for neglecting your major. why the fuck do i have to suffer, too, if my soulmate is such a failure?”

his words cut deep, deeper than flesh, cutting through bone as your knees the urge to buckle and collapse before him. “taeyong, please—”

“honestly, i don’t even know what you’re doing with that professor. you always brush it off whenever i ask you!” the glare he sends could kill. “is this… is this why you’re so adamant about not quitting? then again… what kind of professor is willing to pass his students just by interning for him? i can’t believe i’m only realizing this now!”

this is bad. this is very, very bad.

“whatever you’re thinking about is not true! trust me—”

but as if he can’t hear you, he dawdles on, trying to connect the dots when there is absolutely nothing to connect.

“you suck dick for grades? how could you do this to me? how can you do that to yourself?”

you don’t understand exactly why he’s crying again so you don’t say anything. not because his fierce accusations were right but because even if you try hard to convince him that nothing is going on with your astronomy professor, he’d still cry and whine and paint you to be the bad guy.

“what… what use do i have in this world if my soulmate thinks i’m not enough? and i lost you to some guy who smelled like prunes of all people!” you would have laughed if the situation had been different, but taeyong was dead serious. “i’m useless. i’ve been useless with my family, my friends, and now you. i can never do anything right, can i? i can never make anyone stay. i can’t even make you stay!”

and like a switch that has been flicked off, your conflicted emotions vanish in thin air. gone are every trickle of anger, confusion, and irritation you felt as he makes a beeline to the coffee table, smashing the little ornamental fish bowl and pointing a shard against his dainty wrists.

“no!” you tackle him to the ground, groaning when you feel the shard dig into your side yet you made no effort to get off of him. blindly, you reach, twisting his wrist to drop the piece of glass. “you promised!” you wail, clutching the collars of his shirt as you pull him close to you. “stop, stop hurting yourself.”

you feel him shaking his head, his own onslaught of tears staining your shirt as the negativity he’s been bottling pours over like a tsunami, dragging you under the currents with him. “no, no, no…” you splutter, snot running disgustingly down your nostrils. “it’s not true, none of that is true. you’re my love, my moonlight, i’d never betray you for anyone or anything!”

“but—but your professor, the internship—”

“i’ll quit. i’ll take the subject again next semester, it’s not a big deal, okay? don’t worry, i’m here. i’m so sorry!”

it was all too easy.

the thing with noble people like you is the foolish sense of responsibility lying underneath your skin, it’s gravitational pull so strong that you don’t bother to think before you speak, to think before you act, to think before you make promises, because what’s important isn’t yourself, it’s the person lying meek and helpless before you.

quit, you say? taeyong wants something more.

the evil lying inside pandora’s box can never remain dormant, not when meddlesome people like you who think with a one-track mind pull the lid off its hinges, preaching how every evil can have their own redemption.

a hand finds purchase around your waist as an eerie blissful smile stretches on his lips, eyes clouded over. “really? i’m your moonlight?”

“yes—”

“would you prove it to me?”

he doesn’t make room for your hesitance to settle, he lunges, hands wrapping around your face to pull you into a kiss. it wasn’t like all the other kisses you’ve shared with him, no, this one had a dark, underlying purpose. his hands digging into your open wound to make it bleed, tongue sliding into your mouth the moment you gasped in pain.

your hands press on his chest, trying to push him away but taeyong’s thoughts are running wild. you blush in sheer humiliation when he lets out an almost pornographic moan. with a sinking realization, you’ve become hyper aware of something poking at your abdomen.

no, not yet. you weren’t ready yet!

“taeyong, wait—i’m not—”

“you said you love me, didn’t you?”

#nct imagines #taeyong imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #yandere taeyong #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #idk how to tag stuff geez

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awhitehead17 · 3 years

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100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 50: “I think you’re beautiful”

Enjoy! :D

Tim runs a finger over his pale skin, feeling the ridges of his newly acquired scar. It’s on his right hip and stretches around towards his back and because of the angle of it Tim has to turn to the side in the mirror to see it properly. Where the wound once was is now a raised white line surrounded by flushed pink skin which Tim knows will fade with time.

He sighs and drops his hand. It’s just another scar added to the countless number already scattered over his body. He’s been in the vigilante game for a long time, it makes sense that he would be covered in scars and have a variety of imperfections because of all the wounds and trauma his body has endured over the years. That fact doesn’t make it any easier to deal with though.

Looking at his reflection in the full-length mirror he has in his bedroom, Tim’s eyes travel to different scars on his person. He eyes the ones on his chest, those on his shoulders, his arms, his abs and even the faint one on his neck.

A good ninety percent of them have been because of vigilantism, whether that’s because he’s been shot, stabbed, sliced, beaten, or even caught in an explosion. The other ten percent he could boil it down to everyday things. Scrapes on his elbows and knees from falling over as a child, the times when glass has broken in his hand, accidents with scissors or even grazes that never healed properly.

Each one has a story Tim muses to himself as he studies them. Good or bad, they’re all a result of something that he’s had to endure. Maybe that’s why Tim should be proud of them, he’s faced something that was meant to cause him harm and he came out the other side still fighting.

He’s not proud though, he hates his body.

Well hate may be a bit too strong of a word, perhaps dislikes is better suited. He dislikes his body. Tim works hard to keep his body in shape, he has to because of the job, so he has well defined muscles even though he’s on the leaner side of things, he has an incredible level of fitness, and his agility is above average. He just hates – dislikes – the look of it. The scars don’t sit well with him.

“Hey Tim-”

Tim startles at the sudden voice. Before he could think about it, he lunges towards his bed to grab the t-shirt he left on it and shoves it on. When he turns around Kon is standing in the doorway shooting him a questioning look.

Neither of them move or say anything for several moments. As he stares at Kon, Tim could feel his heart pounding inside his chest and the way his skin grows hotter, he can’t believe Kon just caught him staring at himself in the mirror for who knows how long.

Clearly seeing Tim’s embarrassment, a grin begins to stretch across his face as he makes his own conclusions to what he walked in on. Kon takes a step towards him, laughing. “Tim, dude, were you just checking yourself out?”

Tim doesn’t know what to do with himself, because yes he was checking himself out, however not for the reasons Kon was clearly thinking of.

Opposite him Kon continues to snicker. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Tim! We all do it from time to time.”

“I wasn’t checking myself out Kon!” Tim pathetically lies. He bets his face is as red as a tomato by now.

Kon stops a foot away from him and raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Uh huh, then what were you doing? And by the way, your shirt’s on backwards.”

Tim’s eyes widen and he snaps his gaze down and to his horror his shirt is indeed on backwards. Tim curses and moves to correct it.

“Look it’s nothing, forget it.” Tim demands firmly avoiding eye contact. He wraps his arms around himself defensively.

Kon’s laughter finally dies down and he shakes his head. “Tim seriously-”

Tim cuts him off before he could finish that sentence. “Now what do you want Kon?” When the meta blinks at him Tim rolls his eyes feeling annoyed. “You obviously came here for something, now what is it?”

It takes Kon a moment to answer and Tim could tell that his boyfriend is now studying him, finally picking up on the cues that there’s more to the situation than what he originally assumed. “You were taking a while to get ready so I came to get you. Everyone’s waiting in the media room to start the movie.”

Tim sighs. Right he had forgotten about that, it’s movie night with the team. They had finished a mission earlier and each went to freshen up before migrating to the media room, Tim had gotten distracted after getting out the shower when he started to stare at his body.

Huffing, Tim starts making his way to the door. “Okay. Sorry for the hold up, let’s go.” He doesn’t make it to the door as Kon reaches out and grabs his wrist when he passes by him. Tim grits his teeth and tugs his wrist trying to get it out of the Kryptonian’s grasp. “Kon let go.”

“Tim what’s going on?” All playfulness has dropped from his voice leaving nothing but seriousness behind.

“You’re not letting me go. That’s what.” Tim snaps. When Kon’s grip doesn’t loosen Tim stops fighting, he sags in the hold and refuses to look at him. “Kon it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing Tim. You’re clearly worked up about something.”

While Tim doesn’t deny it, he still refuses to look at his boyfriend. Frustratingly Kon isn’t letting this go. He tugs Tim in close and wraps his arms around him in a firm hug. Taken by surprise by the sudden action, it takes Tim a few moments to respond. Loosely wrapping his arms around the meta’s waist Tim hugs him back and rests his head against Kon’s shoulder.

Eventually Kon pulls away, he reaches up and cups Tim’s cheeks with hands, his thumbs gently stroking the skin there. “Talk to me Tim.”

Tim closes his eyes and focuses on Kon’s touch. It’s so stupid. The whole reason why he’s worked up is stupid as Tim knows there’s no reason to be so wound up over the idea of scars on his body. Nevertheless he can’t help but feel insecure about them from time to time, especially compared to Kon who has absolutely flawless skin. His boyfriend doesn’t have on scar on him, no physical reminders of past traumas, just perfectly smooth sun kissed skin.

When Tim doesn’t speak, Kon sighs sadly and moves his hands down Tim’s body. He strokes Tim’s arms down from the shoulders to his hands before moving to his torso, he brushes down his sides to his waist, however before he could reach Tim’s new scar Tim has his hand captured in his own to stop any further exploration.

“Tim?” Kon questions wearily.

Tim grits his teeth knowing he’s just given himself away. Not saying anything, Kon gently pries his hand out of Tim’s grasp and moves his hand to Tim’s side. This time Tim doesn’t stop him, though he certainly tenses up as Kon slides his hand underneath his t-shirt and brushes the skin there. Tim shivers as Kon’s fingers ghost over his sensitive skin where the new scar is.

“It’s just that it’s another one, y’know.” Tim admits quietly. “I hate them all and every time I get a new one it’s another reminder of how imperfect I am or how I screwed up.”

Kon continues to not say anything and his silence is starting to put Tim on edge. What is his boyfriend thinking? Usually Kon isn’t one to hold back his opinion so him being quiet is rather unsettling, particularly when Tim is so worked up about it.

“Kon say something.”

Instead of speaking Kon uses actions. He undresses Tim from his shirt, forcing it up and over his head before he could even comprehend what’s going on, and turns him around so he’s facing the mirror. Kon then presses in close behind him and wraps his arms around him to lock him into place.

Tim huffs at the manhandling and glares at Kon through the mirror. He’s not pleased to be seeing himself half dressed once again when he’s in a negative head space and especially with Kon standing right behind him. As he tries to look away an invisible force holds his head still, making sure he can’t look anywhere else but at their reflection. Damn Kon and his TTK.

Kon rests his chin on Tim’s shoulder once he knows Tim isn’t going to run away. “I know you hate your scars. You see them as imperfections, as ways that your body is flawed and ugly. They’re physical and permanent reminders of traumas you endured in the past.”

Tim grits his teeth and without meaning too his eyes drift over his body to each scar he had been staring at earlier, his gaze lingers on the newest one to the collection.

“Would you like to know what I think about your body and scars?”

At Kon’s rhetorical question, Tim’s gaze meets Kon’s through the mirror. Kon seemed to be staring back at him with an expression mixed of determination and adoration.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

There’s a pause in time as Tim registers his words. It’s like that sentence has caused his brain to malfunction. Out of everything Tim had been expecting Kon to say, those words were not even close to what he had in mind.

He doesn’t know how to take it, he’s half tempted to laugh at the cheesiness of them however on the other hand they make his insides go all warm and fuzzy and he has to fight off a blush from happening.

“What?” Comes out of his mouth in the end. Kon must have been expecting this because he doesn’t even seem mildly surprised by Tim’s lack of response. His lips curve up into a smile and he presses a light kiss to his bare shoulder.

“You heard me. Everything about you is beautiful. The good and the bad, your strengths and your weaknesses, your mind and your body.”

Letting out a long breath, Tim leans back into Kon. “They’re ugly though.”

Kon shrugs and gives Tim a squeeze. “I don’t think they are. Your scars are a part of you and that makes them special even if you don’t see it yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

They stand together in front of the mirror for a little while longer, both lost in their thoughts and in the moment. It takes a shout from down the corridor to burst their bubble and remind them of where they are and what they were originally doing. Kon snorts and presses one last kiss to Tim’s temple before moving away while Tim shakes his head in both amusement and embarrassment as he grabs his t-shirt to put it back on.

The two of them join hands as they leave Tim’s room. While Tim doesn’t feel much better about his body, and he knows it’s going to take time to accept it and a lot of work but he hopes he’ll get there some day, at least he feels reassured that Kon isn’t disgusted by the sight of it.

As if he’s reading Tim’s mind, Kon leans in close and whispers into his ear, “After movie night, I’m going to show you just how much I like your body. By the time I’m done there won’t be a single negative thought about it in your mind…”

Tim draws back scandalized. He slaps his boyfriend’s arm feeling himself flush at the implications of his words. “Conner!”

Kon only laughs and enters the media room with a flushed Tim trailing behind him. Even though they hadn’t done anything, Tim’s face seems to suggest otherwise and everyone waiting certainly has something to say about it, nonetheless Tim doesn’t correct them and accepts their good-natured teasing for the night.

#timkon #Tim Drake #Kon-El #fluff #comfort #supportive kon #insecurities #scars #soft boyfriends #100 ways to say i love you #we're half way there!#this is the longest story of the series so far #love and support #fanfiction

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j-ungkooky · 3 years

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Temptation (Taehyung)

Ceo Au! Suggestive smut (he’s crouched under ur desk and :)) (smut will be in future chapters) Angst (later) 3181 Words Chapter 1.

“Good morning.” Taehyung simply greeted before disappearing into his office.

It was enough to get all the women in the lobby immediately shooting each other knowing glances because not only was Taehyung the company’s CEO, but he was a very handsome one at that too. His polite demeanour and respectful nature only contributed to his desirability. Due to everyone’s unanimous acknowledgement of Taehyung’s appeal, there seemed to always be some sort of competition for his attention. Whether it was to drop something off for him in his office or offer him leftover donuts, his deep voice thanking you followed by his infectious smile was all worth it. Taehyung being new to the company only made the competition over him more fierce. He had taken over the position from a now old and retired gentleman and because he had no idea what the personality of each individual in the office was truly like, it was all fair game.

She definitely would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t have some sort of crush on Taehyung but it was all physical and surface level. He was her boss after all and she only saw him for a few minutes each day. They’ve barely exchanged more than a handful of words to each other in the month of his takeover.

“Jesus...did you see his arms? They’re suffocating in that button up.” Jisoo, her colleague commented.

“You’re drooling,” she teased, “besides, you should be worrying about your meeting today and not about whether or not blood is circulating through his arms.”

Jisoo scoffed and pushed herself off of the reception desk.

“Don’t remind me,” Jisoo groaned, “it doesn’t help that Taehyung’s going to be sitting in for that meeting too. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through anything without puking.”

The two of them continued to talk and catch each other up on what they did over the weekend before Jisoo eventually had to go back to her desk. She watched as her colleague walked away and felt a twinge of jealousy within herself. For someone like Jisoo to get nervous despite being pretty, charismatic and the office favourite was a slap to her self esteem. Jisoo also held a high position within the HR department while she was just a measly receptionist. She definitely wasn’t going to stay in this position forever but the job paid well and would suffice for now.

As the clock inched closer to everyone’s starting time, the lobby began clearing up as people went to their respected department. After a few minutes, she was left alone to man the front all by herself. She stared at the closed office doors surrounding her and felt another pang of envy in her heart knowing that people behind those doors were doing far more important work than her. Her days consisted of sorting through mail, sending emails, transferring calls and light house duties. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t all bad because at least she could surf the internet whenever she wanted without anyone monitoring her. Her eyes traveled towards Taehyung’s door and she wondered how he was adjusting to everything before an email notification needed her attention.

With it being Monday and the meeting Jisoo was talking about earlier being held today, it was quite busy. She usually had an hour of free time before her lunch break but the emails had been nonstop. People kept revising their forms and asking her to print out multiple copies of the revised papers to the point where the printer just stopped working altogether for a scary moment. With it being so busy, she decided to stay at her desk for lunch today. She was buried so deep in her computer work that Taehyung’s presence had gone unnoticed. He needed a break from staring at his screen all day and decided to go explore the office. In the month that Taehyung transferred over, he had no time to go around introducing himself or making himself familiar with the space. His decision to finally become accustomed to his environment brought him in front of her desk. The unusually loud crinkling from the untouched candy jar she left out for everyone broke her focus. She looked up to see her boss struggling with how small the jar was.

“Do...do you need help?” she finally asked.

Up close, Taehyung’s visuals had her feeling shy and flustered like a high school girl sitting next to their crush. Taehyung seemed just as surprised to hear her voice as his movements came to a halt and he pulled his hand out of the candy jar sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he apologized while rubbing the back of his neck, “I realized I must’ve looked really stupid.”

She waved his doubts away and took the jar from him. She tried her very best to seem unfazed and collected but the red tint in her cheeks and her inability to stop smiling so wide probably gave her away.

“The um...” Taehyung cleared his throat before continuing, “the watermelon flavour please.”

After a few seconds of sifting through the numerous options, she found the one he wanted. Taehyung opened his hand and she almost laughed at how tiny the candy looked in his gigantic palm. Her amusement didn’t stop at his physicality but shifted towards his entire personality. When she first met Taehyung, she was beyond intimidated. She couldn’t look at him for too long without feeling like he was looking right through her. Taehyung carried himself with an air of confidence and always had an answer for everyone, as expected of a competent CEO. She wasn’t nervous around him because he was scary but because his presence was so large and full while she was so small compared to him. But having him stand before her enjoying a piece of watermelon flavoured candy with an innocent smile on his face was just so...unexpected.

“Is this your lunch break?” Taehyung asked noticing her untouched sandwich sitting beside her keyboard.

She looked where he was and let out a forced laugh at her pathetic set up.

“Yeah I didn’t have time to properly take a break today.” she explained.

The reason she was eating at her desk suddenly occurred to her and her eyes traveled over to her inbox which was now at double digits. With only an hour before the big meeting today, she was already behind despite only talking to Taehyung for five minutes.

“Sorry Taehyung I have to get back to work,” she sighed running a hand through her hair, “is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked looking at him for a quick second before going back to her monitor.

Taehyung watched as she worked and wondered if this was the kind of work culture he wanted to uphold. He didn’t like that she didn’t take a break and was going unnoticed for her extra work. Perhaps he’d talk to HR and accounting later to avoid situations like this from happening again. Taehyung drummed his fingers against his her desk and sucked his teeth.

“Nope, nothing else you can do for me!” he smiled, “Thank you for your hard work but please make sure to take a proper break next time. I’m going to the coffee room to take a breather myself.”

She looked up to thank him out of courtesy and he surprised her by thanking her once more and using her name. He grabbed a few more pieces of candy before going on his way.

“Hey Taehyung!” she called, leaning over her desk.

He turned his head with a raised brow.

“If you’re still going to the break room, it’s the other way.” she informed him.

Taehyung turned around on his heel and began walking hastily in the correct direction with bashful smile on his face.

“What an interesting guy.” she thought while laughing to herself.

________________________________________________

The hour leading up to the big meeting didn’t get any easier as her inbox continued to flood with people requesting numerous things from her. She was finally able to breathe when the meeting started and people stopped demanding her assistance. Jisoo had come up earlier asking for words of encouragement before Taehyung emerged from his office. She watched in awe at how effortless Jisoo made it look cracking jokes with Taehyung and drawing out deep belly laughs from him. She cringed at how awkward she must’ve been with Taehyung earlier and refused to look at him when he walked by; not that he would’ve noticed anyway as Jisoo had his full attention. She made an early new years resolution to be more like her follow coworker in the coming year.

Despite the craziness earlier, she was already bored browsing through the same pages for the past 40 minutes. The meeting seemed to be going well as no one left the boardroom to ask her to do anything. With her sanity hanging onto Pinterest boards, she welcomed the delivery man with a gigantic smile and lively greeting.

“Big one today.” the delivery man commented while slapping the stacks of boxes on his trolley.

She took a look around her desk to see if there was any available space to put the packages but to no avail.

“You can just leave them there.” she said and began rolling up her sleeves.

“You sure?” the man asked, “these are quite heavy.”

She reassured him by telling him that she deals with deliveries every Monday and that this was no different to prior ones. She bid the delivery man farewell as he disappeared through the elevator doors with the same concerned face that never left during their entire interaction.

"Finally something to do.” she thought and with that, began working on the boxes.

Taehyung struggled to keep his eyes open during the meeting. He opted to rest his chin on his hand and pretend to take notes when in reality, his eyes were closed and he was drawing random shapes in his notepad. From the moment he received emails outlining what the meeting entailed, he knew it meant absolutely nothing to him. He didn’t actually know why he agreed to be a part of it but he was definitely regretting his decision to do so. Taehyung had a long list of tasks to fulfill especially since he was only a month onboard this company and this meeting was wasting his time. Wanting to make a good impression on his employees, Taehyung tried really hard to pay attention but he simply could not trick himself into caring as the minutes ticked by. He racked his brain on ways to escape and took a deep breath before pursuing his liberation. Taehyung looked at his apple watch and feigned surprise at a non-existent message on it.

“Everyone, I apologize for leaving so suddenly but there is an issue I have to attend.” he announced while getting up from his seat.

He uttered a few more apologies before leaving the boardroom and closing the door. It wasn’t until he was out in the hallway by himself that he suddenly felt incredibly foolish over how easy it was to leave. He sat in that godforsaken room for almost an hour thinking of ways to flee and that was all it took. Pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling a sharp breath, Taehyung made his way back to his office.

“Holy shit! What is in here?!” she groaned struggling to lift more boxes from within the delivery boxes.

In the span of an hour, she was still working on one of the four boxes delivered. Perhaps she should’ve listened to the delivery man earlier but her pride got in the way. It didn’t help that the skirt she was wearing today was a lot shorter than her usual choices but all her work clothes were currently in the wash as she simply could not be bothered to do laundry over the weekend. Every time she lifted something up, she had to immediately place the item somewhere so she could pull her skirt down or she’d accidentally flash the office.

She attempted to set one box down on her desk and winced when it slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. She waited a few seconds to see if anyone came out to figure out what the noise was and breathed a sigh of relief when the office remained undisturbed.

“Better than aimlessly scrolling through Instagram.” she thought before bending over to pick up anything that fell out.

“Do you need help?” a familiar voice called out.

She jumped in her shoes and proceeded to drop everything from her arms. She snapped her body up to see who it was and surprising her again for the second time today, Taehyung was standing in front of her desk with a curious look on his face.

“I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that,” he apologized profusely as he made his way behind her desk, “please let me help you!”

It took her a beat to register her appearance and she quickly pulled down her skirt that was riding up way too close to her crotch. She smoothed her hair before attempting to stop Taehyung from doing anything.

“No, no don’t worry!” she laughed as he held up the items out of her reach.

“If you want it then you have to grow a whole foot taller.” he teased.

“You have a meeting to go back to.” she reminded him to which he scrunched his face in disapproval.

Just as she was slowly convincing Taehyung to go back, his face turned from playfulness to dread when the boardroom door opened.

“Let me ask Taehyung to join the meeting again.” a colleague’s voice could be heard before their footsteps approached the lobby.

She was about to tell Taehyung that he was needed when he ducked under her already cramped desk and put a finger to his lips as his eyes pleaded for her to keep quiet. Before she could process what was happening, Jin, her coworker appeared.

“Hey! Is Taehyung around?” Jin asked as he marvelled at all the boxes spread out in the lobby.

She stood still trying to calm her nerves. On one hand, she was fighting against the biggest laughing fit of her life and on the other, Taehyung her boss, expected her to cover for him as he cowered under her desk.

“He is...” she glanced down at Taehyung who was now shaking his head and making a cutting motion with his hand, “I-I haven’t seen him actually! Is he not in the meeting?”

Jin cocked a brow and leaned over her desk trying to see what she was looking at.

“Is everything okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” he laughed.

She forced a smile and shook her head, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My computer’s been acting up all day and it’s getting a little worrisome with everything going on.”

Taehyung was impressed by how quick she was on her feet and slowly breathed a sigh of relief until he heard Jin offer to come around and take a look at her computer for her. This whole situation was already absolutely ridiculous and humiliating until she sat down on her chair to click a few keys and feign relief that her computer was magically working again. The issue was no longer the fact that Taehyung was hiding from his employees but that he was contorted under her desk that was way too small for his large frame, now with her cunt inches away from his face.

“Well now that you’re here anyways, I was hoping you could help me with some paper work and scheduling.” Jin said.

“S-sure.” she managed to answer despite her throat drying up and the adrenaline slowly making its way through her veins.

She could feel every time Taehyung breathed because his exhales would land right against her inner thigh and when he sighed, she could feel it right against her sex. Her thong provided little to no protection against any sensation caused by him. She tried to clamp her thighs together but her knees would hit Taehyung’s face in the process causing her to open her legs again as a reflex and there was no more room for Taehyung to back up against.

“Are you okay?” Jin asked.

She could only nod as a response; she did not trust her voice to come out stable and natural. The battle she was fighting up there was mutually shared by Taehyung underneath. His brain was going a million miles a minute as he tried to figure out how to talk to her after this. How was he going to make this all alright and normal? He could offer her a raise and an extra week of paid vacation? Maybe he could fire her but he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he did that. Taehyung was beating himself up for putting her in a situation like this and began to mentally prep for a lawsuit. While trying to figure out a solution, Taehyung forgot that he was just a man with a simple brain and another mental battle was underway as he tried very hard to avoid gazing somewhere he really shouldn’t. As she kept squirming, her skirt kept rising and Taehyung couldn’t help but steal a glance at the growing wetness appearing on her undergarment. The growing arousal within Taehyung’s pants made him feel more cramped and with his legs were beginning to fall asleep, he began to pray to any god out there for some sort of divine intervention.

“Fuck fuck fuck...oh my fucking god,” he chanted in his head, “Jin shut the fuck up already.”

A gasp escaping from her lips followed by her suddenly jolting startled Jin and he gave her an odd look. Taehyung had completely lost feeling in both of his feet and he fell over grabbing onto her thighs for support. His hands felt so warm against her skin and their sheer size grabbed a lot more area than anticipated. Taehyung fought back a groan when the bottom of her skirt had flipped over and her entire lower region was in full view.

“Hey Jin, is it okay if we do this over email? I’m suddenly not feeling so well.” she was able to muster out.

It didn’t take a doctor to know something was wrong from her complexion turning completely pale.

“Yeah I think you should go home for the rest of the day. You really don’t look well,” Jin acknowledged with furrowed brows, “I’ll just catch Taehyung up with the meeting myself.”

The minute she heard the boardroom doors close, she pushed her chair back so forcefully that it crashed into the wall behind her. She got up and immediately pulled her skirt down and made a beeline towards the washroom without saying a single word to Taehyung. Taehyung on the other hand stayed fixed under her desk with his eyes bulged and his mouth ajar. There was absolutely no positive outcome for what he had caused.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts #bangtan #bts ceo

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arcadialedger · 3 years

Text

How Catra and Zuko have been saving me lately: A (sort of) meta

A very long, personal post under the cut. This is really important to me, and I could really use some support, so if you could take the time to read and reblog that would be greatly appreciated. I just want to reach out.

Once again, please PLEASE read. I really need help.

Recently, I’ve found myself desperately latching onto the characters of Zuko and Catra, as many have in the past. To put it simply, I’m in one of the most difficult times of my life right now.

I’m transferring colleges because I was doxed by an online hate mob (long story) , and in general because I just didn’t belong at my old school. I went to three different high schools, moved around a whole bunch, and I don’t really belong anywhere. All of my friends are far away, my parents are busy working and I’m alone.

I just feel like I’m wandering aimlessly in darkness, unloved and unsure where to go. I’m faced with making a huge decision about my future with this transfer, and I’m terrified. Terrified I won’t make the right choice, and terrified it won’t be the newfound happiness I so desperately need it to be. But most of all, I’m terrified of being unwanted and alone again, wherever I go.

I’m used to not being wanted. I’m 4’10, not thin, and have been tossed aside because of my appearance my entire life. I’m 20 years old and haven’t been kissed (how pathetic is that). I moved schools and stayed in my room depressed because I never got to lay down roots and establish a foundation. Hell, I never even got to live as a teenager. I’m just behind and broken.

I was hoping Tumblr would be my place, where I could write and analyze and showcase my talents. Be wanted for once. For a while, it looked like it might be. Then a friend blocked me and made a callout post, due to me having a different opinion on a sensitive matter, and a domino effect began. I lost more friends and half of the fandom we’re both in blocked me seemingly at their word. I had featured this friend on an episode of my podcast at, had many fond memories chatting with them, and even bought a zine to support them. The loss hurt, and I was cut off from one of the few things I had. It was all taken away from me. My growth halted as I dealt with months of online abuse: including death threats, suicide baiting (these people knowing I’ve struggled with being suicidal), aphobic slurs (knowing I’m ace), mocking and editing images of my face. My Twitter was hacked, I lost podcast deals with creatives who my friends who blocked me and started all of this went on to interview because of said hacking, and I was threatened to be doxed. I suffered blow after blow while the people who hurt me grew and were rewarded, allowed a place here, and this continues to this day. The damage remains. I have to self reblog a whole bunch to get my content remotely seen in the algorithm.

Because my entire life, it feels I’ve never been allowed a win. I’ve never been allowed to have and keep anything good. I’m short and ugly, talentless with nothing to give to the world, my family has no money so I haven’t gotten to travel or experience a lot of things. I’ve spent my entire life envious of the “hot skinny girls” who’ve been wanted and dating since high school, who live in McMansions and get to go on vacations.

When I work to make good content on Tumblr and build a following talking about what I’m passionate about? It’s taken from me. When I work hard to get into my old college’s honors program and earn a trip to Greece which I could otherwise never afford, a global pandemic comes along and makes sure I don’t get that kind of positive experience in life.

I’m used to it all, being worn down and unwanted and losing. I’ve gone my entire life behind, lesser, and not enough.

And that’s why I’m so scared. I have a big decision to make, I’m at my own crossroads, and I desperately need all of this to come together for me this year. I’ve gone so long without happiness and love. I need this to be the light at the end of the tunnel, newfound happiness. I need to find newfound happiness. All I want is to escape the darkness, find peace of mind and function day to day doing the things I love without being stressed.

So when I see Zuko— so angry at the world for being given the short stick, abused, and never making things easy, and Catra— driven mad by comparison and feeling as though the world takes away everything from her? Gosh, I feel it so hard.

Because that’s just what I do. I get angry at the world for making things so hard for me. I compare. I feel like the world just takes and takes and never gives me a win. And so I’m never happy. I feel their pain and loneliness so deeply, and I’m terrified that I’m the villain because of it. I cry at the anguish and self loathing in their eyes because I have been there. I AM there.

Like Zuko comparing to Azula, I feel lesser because the world has constantly told me I am so. I feel cheated and given the short end of the stick, as though life has it out for me. I get angry and lash out from my pain.I’m desperate for validation from people who can never give it to me. I’m so scarred from my past, I can’t believe I have a future.

Like Catra, I’m always left behind. I’m lonely and driven mad by the unfairness of the world. It takes and takes until I’ve lost it all, but it never gives. I’m so afraid of losing anyone and anything else, I refuse to let anyone in. Because why would I deserve love? There’s nobody who wants me, no purpose for me on this world. I’m nothing, just constantly chasing an impossible goal of perfection to justify my existence.

“You drive them away, wildcat”

Yeah, I know their hurt. I know what it all feels like. To be that broken, that insecure, that left behind and unwanted. The punching bag of fate. These characters suffering is so much of my own.

And that’s why they’re the only thing to give me hope.

Seeing them be where I am now, and where they end up, I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, that can be my future. That I’ll get a happy ending. It gives me the courage to believe that what I’m so desperately striving for can happen.

Zuko standing up to his father and forging his own path in life, which leads him to a better place as he finds his destiny and happiness after so many years of torment. We both have scars-- if he can overcome his, why can’t I?

Catra, after so many years of struggle, taking agency over her life back from those to abused her, and finally learning to accept the love of those around her. Opening up to pain and rejection and ultimately being forgiven. Catra felt so lonely, unable to see the love around her-- maybe I’ve been doing the same thing. Maybe I’ll find the strength to take my life into my own hands and find my own love.

It’s so empowering, a flicker of light in what feels like eternal darkness. I am so worn out and broken. I’ve never had love, or learned to love myself. In the real world, it is find to find hope.

It is only in these characters, who have felt my pain and found their way to a better place, that I find comfort.

I am one of so many who have been touched by these characters arcs, and they are one of the purest examples of why stories are important. Why the emotions narrative can evoke are important. It is not only escapism, it opens up a door to critical self introspection that can make a real difference in our lives. It holds up a black mirror of our lives, providing an outside view of our deepest, darkest emotions and struggles which can be so hard to understand when they’re inside.

These characters, and their stories: insecurity, abuse, doubt, comparison, chasing validation, just wanting to find your purpose in life and happiness-- they are the stories of life, stripped down to it’s rawest emotions.

There is power in redemption. There is power in rising from the bottom.

As I said in my last post about Catra and Zuko:

“Their stories: being angry at the world, driven mad by comparison and a need for validation, making wrong choices, processing trauma, needing help but being too scared to open up and accept it, feeling as though they don’t deserve love or forgiveness, fighting to restore and maintain valued relationships, convincing themselves they’ve lost it all, feeling conflicted or confused, realizing what they thought they wanted isn’t fulfilling and hasn’t brought happiness, escaping years of mental conditioning which told them they were worthless, not seeing the love they have right before them, constantly fighting uphill for a life which seems to throw everything it can at them… Well, isn’t that just the most human story of all? And so their redemptions give us hope.”

I have been so lost and lonely for so long, and now I’m at a crossroads. I’m so scared to believe that this change, this new path, can lead to a better place, but these characters? They give me strength to. They give me faith.

This has been a rambling post of feelings, and I am thankful to anyone who has read this far. I’m just so tired of feeling this way, and needed to reach out and share this. If you are also feeling this way, know you are not alone. You are so very far from alone.

I just really don’t want to feel unwanted and unloved, like I don’t belong, anymore. I want to have a place here. I probably sound desperate because I feel that way. I don’t know how else to cry out for help other than sharing this.

If anyone wants to message or send asks about this, please feel free to do so. I want, and very much need, to talk.

#personal #personal post #zuko #long post #catra #meta #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra #a:tla #atla #spop #mental health

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pickalilywrites · 3 years

Note

Can you please write a gabi x falco fic where gabi is slightly taller than falco (2-3 inches)? And she just finds various ways to tease him for this making him embarrassed. Maybe also have her carry him bridal style in the fic somewhere. I think it would be really cute, funny and wholesome! Thanks for considering my request! And aot shall be missed the end of an era.

Have a great day and God bless! All the best and take care! Happy writing! :))

thank you for asking for this ^^ it was fun to write. it took me a little while but i hope you enjoy it~

-----------------

Taller Than You

Falbi. Canonverse.

8098 words.

Read on Ao3!

Falco can accept being beaten. He’s never been the strongest person or the fastest or the smartest. In all honesty, he’s quite average and while it’s frustrating to never place first or even within the top three of his class, he’s come to accept that some things are beyond his control. Yes, he can work hard and hope to someday surpass his peers and graduate at the top of his class, but he has to work twice as hard because he lacks the natural talent that others were lucky enough to be born with. It’s frustrating sometimes, but that’s just the way it is and Falco is fine with it for the most part.

It’s admittedly a little less easy for Falco to accept his inadequacy as a warrior candidate when Gabi flaunts all of her accomplishments in front of him. She’s accumulated so many badges over the years, little medals made out of cheap metal that were already rusting when they were given to her that she still proudly pins to the front of her shirts, that Falco has lost count of just how many she has.

Really, Falco knows it’s his own fault that his list of accomplishments pales in comparison to Gabi. He’s not as strong and hardworking as she is. If he’s average compared to his other classmates, then he’s completely inferior next to Gabi. He never says anything when Gabi brags about how she’s beaten the record for shooting practice, the previous record which had also belonged to her as well, or when she manages to receive a compliment from one of the most hard-to-impress instructors during a military drill course. He just bites his lip and suffers through Gabi shoving all of her accomplishments in his face. It’s what he deserves for being such a pathetic warrior-in-training.

Gabi really deserves to let her accomplishments be known anyway, Falco knows, and he does like to listen to her list every single one of her achievements. He likes the way her eyes light up when she talks about whatever record she broke, how her chest puffs up, and how she bristles with pride. It’s only right that Gabi be so proud of herself. She’s a Warrior through and through, a person destined to wield a Titan, and undeniably the worthiest candidate in their class.

It should, then, only be inevitable that Gabi surpasses Falco in the only thing that he thought he could beat her at: height. There had been warning signs. For years, Falco and Gabi had been around the same height with Falco always a centimeter or two taller than Gabi, but lately it seems like Gabi has caught up.

The last few months, Gabi was always the exact same height as Falco. Falco would always hold his breath during his physical exam. Whenever his height was taken, he’d stand to his full height, raising his head unconsciously as if that would somehow give him an extra centimeter or two only to have the nurse taking his height to smack him on the head and tell him to stand properly. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Gabi had finally surpassed his height by a centimeter. After all, she had already managed to beat him at everything else, but Falco couldn’t stand for it.

“You can’t be taller than me,” Falco says, hating how high-pitched and whiny his voice sounds. He bites his lip and turns to the nurse that had just finished measuring Gabi and his eyes flit back to his friend. “It’s impossible.”

“Denial is the first step to acceptance,” Gabi says as she cheerfully pats Falco on the shoulder. She’s elated, not even trying to hide the smug grin on her face. “Although, you should just accept it. I’ve beaten you at nearly everything else, so shouldn’t this be easy to accept?”

It should be, but it’s not. Over the past months, Falco had dreaded the idea of Gabi growing taller than him. He refused to believe it could ever happen. He could never beat her at anything except her height, and he clung to that worthless achievement fiercely even as it became apparent that Gabi was hitting her growth spurt much faster than him. Falco finds the reality of Gabi being taller than him is actually much worse than just imagining it. It’s humiliating to be beaten at something he thought he had, but he realizes too late that Gabi’s height is beyond his control and he can only stand there in disbelief as she stands there, chin lifted proudly as she subtly flaunts her extra centimeter in front of him.

“Measure me again, please,” Falco practically begs as he tugs on the nurse’s sleeve.

The nurse eyes him tiredly and shakes his head. “Can’t you see I have to do the rest of your classmates?” he asks, gesturing to the line of kids who are still waiting to be measured. “It’s a centimeter difference. You’ll outgrow her in no time.”

That’s not soon enough, Falco wants to say, but he doesn’t want to sound like a brat so he bites his lip from saying any more. When he turns around, Gabi is giggling behind him with her smug expression still pasted on her face. If she smiles any wider, her face might crack.

He tries to keep his head held high even though all he wants to do right now is throw a fit over something as pathetic as a centimeter height difference.

“You heard him,” Falco says. His voice is still that strange high pitch that makes him cringe inwardly. He should probably shut up now before he makes himself look more like a fool, but he can’t help it. If he doesn’t say something now, it’ll be like admitting defeat. “I’ll grow taller than you soon. Just wait.”

The smirk on her face is infuriating. “Sure,” Gabi says, but it’s clear from the tone of her voice that she doesn’t believe him. “We’ll see.”

But much to Falco’s horror, he doesn’t grow taller than Gabi. His height seems to stagnate despite the fact that he’s eating more than usual. He doesn’t get any heavier either, which just makes it twice as frustrating. It’s as if the food he eats just disappears once it enters his mouth. What’s the point of eating, Falco wonders, if it doesn’t help him grow at all?

Gabi doesn’t seem to have that problem at all. She continues to grow. It’s effortless like everything else she does. First, it’s that one centimeter height difference. Then it’s a few millimeters more, the added height so small that it would be negligible if it were anyone else aside from Gabi. Suddenly, it’s a whole centimeter and a half, then two centimeters, and finally two and a half.

“How are you growing so much!” Falco asks, looking at Gabi in disbelief. He can’t understand how she continues to grow while his own height remains stunted. His parents had assured him that his growth spurt would come soon, but he’s almost certain they’re lying to him because the difference between him and Gabi keeps growing. “This is impossible.”

To the nurse who’s busy taking measurements, Falco says, “Measure me again.”

The nurse doesn’t even look at Falco when he responds. “I’m busy,” he replies. He’s given Falco that response consistently for the past six months. It makes Falco want to tear his hair out. “I don’t see why you’re worried about it all the time anyway. You’ll grow soon enough.”

Falco is about to open his mouth and argue with the nurse when Zofia and Udo drag him away.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Falco,” Zofia chides as she rubs Falco’s shoulder reassuringly. She sits him down at his desk where she begins to pat his head like one would do if they were comforting an upset child. “Girls usually get their growth spurt before guys anyway, so it’s only normal that Gabi’s taller than you right now. I’m getting pretty tall too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m even taller than Udo.”

“Please don’t rub it in my face,” Udo says with a pained expression. He pulls out a chair and sits across from Falco, giving his friend a sympathetic smile. “She’s right, though, and so is the nurse. You start growing a lot soon. Me, too.”

“I want to grow taller now, “ Falco grumbles. He buries his head in his arms and sighs. Voice muffled, he asks, “What do I have to do to grow a couple centimeters taller?”

“Well, you could do some stretches,” Zofia suggests. She jumps back in surprise when Falco sits up and leans toward her.

“What stretches?” he asks. He scoots up to the edge of his seat, attentive.

“Oh, they’re just … they’re supposed to make you taller. I’ve only been doing them for a few months, but I’ve grown quite a bit in that time,” Zofia explains awkwardly. She looks around as if unsure if it would be appropriate to demonstrate in the classroom. Nobody is paying attention to them though. The rest of their classmates are either busy talking to each other or getting their height and weight measured and their instructor has left the nurse in charge of the class.

Udo purses his lips. “Why haven’t you taught me about these stretches?” he asks with a frown.

“You never asked,” Zofia replies, and Udo scowls at her.

“Well, what are they?” Falco asks a little impatiently. He stands up, ready to follow along with and memorize whatever instruction Zofia gives him.

“One of them goes like this,” Zofia begins and starts to demonstrate.

They’re easy stretches. Many of them are exactly like the ones that they do before they warm up for their physical training: stretching their arms above their head, twisting their torso back and forth, touching their toes, etc. Some are a little more unfamiliar to Falco: stretching your calves as you push against a wall, stretching your forearms and wrists, and hanging against a doorframe or a wall to stretch your shoulder and back muscles.

The key, Zofia explains while the boys do it half-heartedly, is to stretch enough to feel it in their muscles. If they don’t, then they’re doing it wrong. They also need to make sure to hold the stretches for an appropriate amount of time. It’s fine if they do it a little bit longer, Zofia tells them, but they absolutely need to make sure they hold each position for the minimum amount of time.

“And then you’ll grow taller in no time!” Zofia assures them cheerfully.

It’s working. At least Falco thinks it is, although he probably shouldn’t be so optimistic. It’s only been a few seconds after all, but he’s pretty sure he can feel his limbs lengthening as he stretches out his muscles. He’s stretching his arms when a question pops into his head that he hadn’t thought to ask before.

“Where did you learn about this anyway?” he asks Zofia.

It’s suspicious when Zofia doesn’t answer him right away. She avoids his eyes for a moment, looking up at the ceiling while she decides if she should respond. He gets a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as Zofia rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet and she nibbles on her bottom lip. It makes him want to take back his question immediately, tell Zofia that he doesn’t care about who taught these stretching exercises to her anymore, but it’s too late. Zofia is already opening her mouth to answer.

“Gabi,” Zofia answers quietly, but her reply seems to fill the whole room.

Behind them, a horrible cackle begins and Falco turns around, horrified, and sees that Gabi has appeared as if the mere mention of her name had been enough to summon her out of thin air.

“Doing stretches?” Gabi asks with the smuggest smile on her lips. It makes Falco want to scream. She does a few stretches too, stretching her arms above her head, but she does it lazily. It’s almost like she’s mocking Falco. “That’s a good idea, Falco. Maybe you’ll be able to catch up to me someday.”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Falco snaps, but Gabi just laughs and he can feel blush bloom across his cheeks. He scowls at her and says, “Those stretches probably don’t work. I don’t need them to grow taller than you anyhow.”

He means it, he really does. He isn’t planning on doing any of the stretches. Even if he does grow taller than Gabi, he knows she’ll comment on how well her stretches worked with that same smug smile on her face. Still, he finds himself absentmindedly doing them when he gets home, figuring that it can’t hurt to try.

»»————-　★　————-««

Gabi always finds new ways to annoy Falco with her height. It seems she’s not satisfied with bringing it up during every physical evaluation. She has to rub her few extra centimeters of height in his face every chance she gets even if it’s in the most mundane of situations.

Sometimes the way she flaunts her height is horribly blatant. It’s in the snide comments she throws casually at him, asking him what the weather is like down there or apologizing for not hearing what he just said because it’s so hard to hear him from her height. It’s not even as if he’s that much shorter than her. There are plenty of other people in their class that are a lot shorter than Gabi, but she only ever directs her height-related comments towards him.

“Are you done?” Falco asks as Gabi pretends to check their heights again.

She’s standing right next to him, her chin lifted slightly as she compares heights with him. Her hand goes from the top of her head and shifts over just a few centimeters over Falco. He swears she’s exaggerating their height difference because her hand is angled when she moves her hand above his head, giving her a few imaginary centimeters over him.

“Just checking,” Gabi says cheerfully to him. She gives him a grin and leans toward him. He knows whatever it is she has to say next will make him want to stick his head out the door and scream at the top of his lungs. “Falco, do you want to know if you’ve grown any taller?”

“No,” Falco says almost immediately.

Gabi ignores him. “Well, you haven’t,” she says happily. She walks in circles around him, practically skipping. In a sing-song voice, she continues, “I’m still taller than you, much taller than you. You’ll never catch up now.”

Falco grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists.

Gabi is still talking. “It’s okay, though. I’m tall enough for the both of us.” She’s wandering towards the cabinets now. Falco is all too familiar with what’s about to happen next. He knows all of Gabi’s methods to incite his short-man syndrome. She throws open the cabinet doors and looks back at Falco with a dazzling grin. “I can help you with so many things. Do you want anything from the cabinet? I can reach it for you.”

“No,” Falco says, but he knows Gabi isn’t listening to him.

She’s humming as she scans the contents of the cabinet. It’s full of different school supplies, most of them already used before because they’re second-hand from the Marleyan schools. Her mouth shapes itself into a perfect O-shape as she sees something that catches her eye. Falco is about to roll his eyes until he sees what Gabi is reaching for.

Normally, Gabi reaches for things that are just within reach. Sometimes she even gets things from shelves that Falco can easily reach himself. Not this time. This time, she’s reaching for the shelf near the top where the worn-out textbooks are. It’s not something she can reach without standing on her tiptoes and really stretching really far.

With just a glance at this situation — Gabi and her bull-headed stubbornness, the cabinet with its rickety shelves, and the textbooks that are so worn-out that they could disintegrate with a touch — Falco knows that it’s a recipe for disaster. If there were even a chance of stopping Gabi, Falco would step in and try to convince her to stop, but he knows any effort to do so would be futile. He should walk away and let her reap the consequences herself, but he doesn’t. Against his better judgement, he remains and begins to hover behind Gabi.

“Gabi, you really don’t have to,” he says worriedly. His hands flutter pathetically behind Gabi, reaching out to catch her in case she falls.

“Don’t worry. At my height, this isn’t anything difficult,” Gabi says with a toss of her head even though she’s having difficulty. The shelf is so tall that she can’t really see what she’s doing. She has to grasp blindly for a textbook and her smile grows wider when she finally manages to grab hold of one. “Got it!”

As soon as she pulls it from out of its shelf, she stumbles back and loses her balance. Rather than allowing Falco to catch her, Gabi flails about trying to grab onto something, anything, to keep herself from falling. Her hand grasps onto one of the shelves and for a moment Falco thinks everything will be fine. Gabi is suspended there, hanging onto the shelf with one hand while an old, musty textbook is dangling in the other. A beat passes and then two and then a horrible crack is heard.

It happens in slow motion. Gabi’s weight is too much for the shelf and it slips out of the cabinet, coming away with her hand as she falls onto Falco and nearly crushes him. The already unstable cabinet begins to crumble. The top shelf goes first, falling away, and the textbooks that it held drop onto the other shelves which all collapse in turn. The entire cabinet falls apart, its contents spilling on the floor, and Falco winces when he hears Instructor Andreas bellow their names.

“Braun! Grice! What the hell did you two do?” The instructor’s shout can be heard clearly in the tiny schoolhouse and every student immediately freezes at the sound of his voice. It’s never a good thing when an instructor raises their voice, especially Instructor Andreas.

“J-just … getting some textbooks, s-sir,” Falco stammers. Gabi is still on top of him, her weight crushing his lungs, and he shoves her off, jabbing her in the ribs to signal her to apologize before they get into even more trouble.

Gabi grunts and sits up in a more respectable position. She brushes off some dust from her school uniform and at least has the sense to look apologetic as she looks at their teacher. “Sorry, sir,” Gabi mumbles and Falco repeats a clumsy apology beside her. “I should have been more careful.”

“You stupid Eldians can’t help destroying every damn thing you touch, can you?” Instructor Andreas snaps. He spits on the floor in disgust. It’s enough to make everyone nearby flinch. He looks up at the two troublemakers with a scathing glare and jerks his head towards the open door. “Go out there and finish a full circuit. Don’t come back until you do.”

Falco’s shoulders begin to slump. A full circuit is nearly an hour of drills that is sure to leave him sore when he wakes up tomorrow morning. He wants to complain, but he knows one word will just result in a heavier punishment. He should just do it and get it over with now.

He’s about to get up and offer Gabi a hand, but he sees she’s already standing and offering him a hand up. Falco hesitates, but he takes it and lets Gabi pull him up. He knows she’s going to say something about it once they leave the schoolhouse and get out of earshot of Instructor Andreas, but right now he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible even if it means he’ll have to put up with more of Gabi’s short jokes later.

As soon as they step out of the wooden cabin and onto the schoolyard it begins.

“No need to thank me for helping you up,” Gabi whispers to him. She’s so close to him that he can feel her breath hot against his ear. “It’s probably difficult for you to stand up on your own with those short legs of yours.”

Falco scowls at her and gets started on the full circuit before Instructor Andreas can stick his head out of the schoolhouse and yell at them for fooling around.

It’s an hour of grueling physical exertion. The first time he had ever done the circuit, he was ten years old and a new recruit for the Warrior-trainee program. He thought he would die five minutes in. The first part was running around the field, which would normally be bearable except for the fact that the schoolyard is filled with little bumps and holes everywhere. Although he’s learned the best footing when running around the field, his calves still burn as soon as he makes it a half a kilometer. He’s hardly improved from the first time he had run through the circuit.

Gabi catches up to him quite easily even though he’s had a head start. Unlike Falco, she doesn’t break a sweat. She’s practically smiling as she passes by him. It doesn’t surprise Falco. What most people find difficult, Gabi can do easily as if it were as simple as taking a breath.

By the time Falco’s finished running around the field twice, Gabi is already starting on the drills that accompany the circuit: push-ups, curl-ups, pull-ups, any exercise that will ensure that they won’t be able to move a single muscle tomorrow morning. She’s a little red in the face now, her hair falling out of its usual bun and sticking to the sweat on her forehead, but she’s not as out-of-breath as Falco. Somehow, she’s still smiling.

“I hope you know,” Falco huffs as he nearly collapses doing his first push-up., “that this is all your fault.”

“Nonsense,” Gabi says easily. He’s not sure how she’s able to form words so easily. She doesn’t seem winded at all. “I had everything out of control.”

“You broke the cabinet!”

“I got the textbook,” she replies contentedly as if this is all that matters. “Something you could never do on your own due to your lack of height.” She gets out of her push-up position and sits down on her haunches so that she’s looking down on Falco. With an impish grin, she reaches out to give Falco a condescending pat on the head. It’s just a light touch, but it’s enough to send Falco face-first into the ground.

Falco raises his head and splutters, spitting out the dirt that had gotten in his mouth. “I didn’t even need that textbook!” he coughs.

He regrets shouting as soon as the words leave his mouth. His raised voice attracts the attention of Instructor Andreas, who pokes his head out the door and sees Falco collapsed on the ground and Gabi taunting him.

“Braun! Grice!” the instructor growls. His harsh tone makes Falco flinch, but Gabi simply turns her head. “I thought I told you two to complete a full circuit, not play around.”

The two give him a weak apology that the man only scowls at.

“Don’t apologize to me. Save your energy,” the man snarls. He pounds the doorframe twice and then points at the field that Gabi and Falco had just finished running around. “Start over. Do the circuit properly or else I’ll make sure you’ll be running laps around the field until nightfall.”

Immediately, the two get up and jog towards the field. Falco’s pretty sure he’s going to pass out halfway, but there’s no point in complaining about it.

“Sorry,” he mumbles to Gabi as they make their way to the field.

She glances at him, unbothered. “No worries,” Gabi says. She’s being uncharacteristically understanding, even jogging at the same pace as him. The two jog together in tandem for a few beats and Gabi speaks again. “Since you’re so short, it makes sense that you’d be short-tempered, too.”

Falco growls and speeds ahead, but he can still hear Gabi cackling behind him.

»»————-　★　————-««

Falco sits at the dining table shoveling as much food in his mouth as humanly possible. He’s not even taking time to savor the food. If he did, he’d probably notice that stuffing bread and mashed potatoes and carrots and chicken in his mouth all at once is a disgusting mishmash of flavors.

“Falco,” his mother says exasperatedly as he shoves an entire boiled egg into his mouth. “Can you at least chew your food?”

“No,” Falco garbles through the food in his mouth. A few crumbs fly from his mouth and onto the table. Falco doesn’t hesitate to wipe it away hastily with a napkin and wastes no time in shoveling yet another spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth.

His mother only sighs. She gave up hope on managing her son’s eating habits long ago.

Doing stretches doesn’t seem to be working for Falco, so he has started a new strategy to grow taller: eating his family out of house and home. At first he thought it would be fine if he just took in as much dairy as possible. He’s heard it said that calcium is what makes a person grow, but he became impatient when he didn’t see results the next day and just decided to eat everything he could shove in his mouth. Has it made his eating experience much less enjoyable? Absolutely, but it’ll be worth it if he can grow a couple of more inches and finally overtake Gabi in height.

“What’s happening here?” a familiar voice says. Falco lifts his head to see his older brother Colt walk over with a puzzled look on his face.

It’s been a while since Falco has actually seen his brother at home. After being chosen as the successor of the Beast Titan, Colt had been put on a more intensive training regimen that often started early in the morning before the Grice family was even awake and ended late into the night when everyone had long gone to bed. The only time Falco ever really sees his brother is on the training field with other soldiers when their training schedules coincidentally align. Falco thinks it’s the first time he’s seen Colt at home during the day since he was named Commander Zeke’s successor.

“He’s eating everything in the house,” their mother grumbles because Falco’s mouth is full of food and can’t speak right now. “The rest of us will starve at this rate.”

“That’s fine. Training really makes you hungry,” Colt hums. He shrugs his bag off his shoulder and lets it fall to the floor with a thud. He grabs an empty plate and cutlery from the cabinet and joins his family at the table. Colt is about to help himself to some dinner but he takes a glance at Falco’s plate, which is filled with a mountain of food. He raises an eyebrow. “I know you’re at that age where you eat a ton but isn’t this … a bit much?”

Falco swallows the food in his mouth and it slides slowly down his throat. He’s afraid it gets stuck halfway and begins to cough. He pounds at his chest with one hand and reaches for his glass of water on the table with the other, nearly knocking it over because he isn’t looking. Falco nearly has to down the entire glass before the lump of food is able to slide down his throat.

“Please chew,” his mother practically begs.

Falco ignores her. “I have to … eat more,” he pants. He’s beginning to taste the food on his tongue now, and it tastes terrible. It’s too sweet and too salty and there’s a weird film on his tongue. He gulps down more water before shoveling more food in his mouth.

Colt raises his eyebrows again. Since he hasn’t been able to speak to his family for a while, he’s missed out on quite a lot, including Falco’s current problem with Gabi and his height. His mother is kind enough to fill Colt in.

“He’s convinced that eating more will help him grow taller,” their mother tells Colt. She sits with her back against her chair and her arms crossed against her chest. Her eyes never leave Falco as she speaks. “There’s a girl that’s taller than him.”

Colt watches Falco, his head tilted to the side. “Isn’t it normal for the boys to be shorter than the girls at this age?” he asks. He thinks for a moment as he tries to recall what it was to be Falco’s age only a few years ago. “I think I was shorter than most of the girls in my class when I was your age, too.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Mrs. Grice says. She gives Falco a withering look, but her son is too busy eating to notice. “He’ll catch up to them in no time at all. Eating everything in sight won’t necessarily make you grow any taller, Falco. Just eat normally and you’ll get your growth spurt before you know it.”

Colt continues to observe his little brother. He rests his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand. “Are you really upset that the girls are taller? I’m sure the other guys in your class have already accepted it.” His fingers tap against the table as he thinks. After a moment, he stops and sits up with a suspicious expression. “Unless you’re upset because it’s not because it’s the girls but because of one girl in particular.”

Falco stops eating to glare at Colt. He means for his glare to look menacing, but he probably just looks ridiculous with his cheeks full of food like an overstuffed chipmunk.

The corners of Colt’s mouth quirk upward in a grin. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Colt says. He looks far too amused by this. “Is it … Gabi? It’s Gabi, isn’t it?”

“No,” Falco says with a mouthful of food. He manages not to spit out of any of it, but he kind of wishes he spit his food into his brother’s face. Colt looks as if he’s about to laugh about this whole thing, which only infuriates Falco more. How is any of this funny?

“How much taller than you is she?” Colt asks. He leans over the table with that same smile on his face, the one that says he finds all of this hilarious. “1 cm? 2 cm? 3?”

“She’s not,” Falco lies, but his voice comes out in a whine and he knows his face is scrunching up in a childish way. He wishes Colt hadn’t come home. “She’s not taller than me!”

“Okay, okay,” Colt chides. He starts to pile food onto his own plate and gestures for his mom to eat as well, probably deciding that it’ll be useless to talk to Falco about this topic any further.

The three eat together in relative peace — Falco still trying to eat everything in front of him without swallowing, his mother eating and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever she catches a glimpse of her younger son, and Colt eating normally as if this is a normal family meal. After a moment, Colt takes a brussel sprout from his plate and onto Falco’s. Falco doesn’t think much of it at first but then Colt drops another one onto Falco’s plate, then another one, and then another one.

Falco stops eating for a moment and looks at his brother. “What are you doing?” he asks after swallowing.

Colt stops what he’s doing and looks at his younger brother in surprise. “Me?” he asks as if he wasn’t sure Falco had been speaking to him. “I’m helping you, of course. Helping you grow taller.” He gestures at the brussel sprouts with his fork and then at Falco.

Falco wrinkles his nose. “With brussel sprouts?” It’s one of the few foods he’s been trying to avoid. While his plan is to eat everything, he does have his limits and brussel sprouts are one of them. He can’t stand them. They look like tiny little cabbages, but taste so much worse, their bitter taste lingering on Falco’s tongue long after he’s swallowed. He tries not to eat them as much as he can.

“Yeah,” Colt says. He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know? They’re chock-full of all sorts of nutrients: calcium, vitamin D, magnesium, and the like. It’s supposed to help with bone growth. Helps you grow taller. Didn’t they tell you that in school?”

Across the table, Colt’s mother mouths, “Really?” Falco doesn’t notice when Colt answers with a subtle shake of the head.

Falco looks sullenly at the little pile of brussel sprouts sitting in his pile of mashed potatoes. He pushes them around idly with his fork. “They didn’t mention it in my class,” he mumbles.

Colt shrugs. “You guys probably haven’t gotten into the diet and health unit yet. They really emphasize it in the Warrior Trainee program, especially once you get chosen as a Warrior.”

Falco looks suspiciously at his brother and then at the brussel sprouts on his plate. “Really?” he asks.

“Really,” Colt says. He seems sincere, and Falco doesn’t know why his older brother would lie to him. It’s true that Colt would know what foods to eat now that he’s a Warrior. He would know what foods are good for growth and keeping up someone’s strength.

Reluctantly, Falco spears a brussel sprout with his fork and nibbles at it. He shudders when the weird metallic taste hits his tongue. With a grimace, he puts the whole thing in his mouth, gives it a few good chews, and then swallows it down. It feels like slime moving down his throat. He has to finish the rest of his water just to rinse the taste out of his mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” he shudders, but he spears two more brussel sprouts onto his fork and eats them. It’s just as bad this time as it was before. He’s not sure how he’s going to finish the rest of these brussel sprouts without puking. He screws up his face as he takes another bite of the foul vegetable. “‘This is the worst!”

“Eat up, brother,” Colt hums, loading Falco’s plate with even more servings of the offensive food.

Their mother waves her hand to get Colt’s attention and gestures at the salted anchovies. “These, too,” she says. “Colt, make sure your brother eats these. Weren’t you telling me the other day that they were a good source of calcium?”

“Anchovies?” Colt says with a furrowed brow. Then, as if he’s just remembering, he nods and makes a noise in understanding. He begins to shovel the fish onto Falco’s plate right next to the brussel sprouts. “Ah, right. They mentioned it was a superfood, something that helps you grow taller overnight.”

“Really?” Falco wants to cry. He hates anchovies even more than brussel sprouts. They’re always too salty and too fishy, the taste overwhelming both his nose and his taste buds. He thinks he really is going to puke. He nearly cries as he lifts a spoonful of the little fish into his mouth and his entire body shudders when the salty taste hits his tongue. He’s practically sobbing as he goes for another spoonful.

After a few more horrible swallows of brussel sprouts and anchovies, Falco notices his mother and brother snickering behind their palms. His eating slows and he puts his spoon down.

“These … really aren’t superfoods, are they?” he asks flatly. He already knows the answer even before Colt nods his head. If Falco’s stomach didn’t feel as if it were about to burst right now, he would be flipping the table over in frustration. Instead, he just lets out an exasperated shriek and storms upstairs to his room.

“Where are you going, Falco?” Colt asks after him.

“You haven’t finished eating yet!” his mother calls.

Falco slams his bedroom door behind him in response.

»»————-　★　————-««

Falco should have figured that Gabi would soon grow tired of teasing him and that she would naturally progress to the next best thing: completely humiliating him in front of as many people as possible.

She still stands only a few centimeters taller than him, but the brunette acts as if she towers above him like a giant. Whenever they’re standing beside each other, Gabi looks down at him, lifting her head and standing as straight as she can without standing on her tiptoes. She stares her nose at him, that smug grin on her face each time. Falco always rolls his eyes and does his best to ignore him, but he finds it more and more grating each time.

Gabi constantly uses him as an armrest, letting her elbow settle on his shoulder or, if he happens to be sitting down, on the top of his head. More than once, he’s scowled at her before waving her away, but it only seems to amuse her even more because she always laughs whenever he does. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him. The additional weight of Gabi’s elbow isn’t much, but it’s the meaning behind the leaning that bothers him so much. It’s only slightly better to just allow her to use him as a piece of furniture, but not by much. He tries his best not to grumble about it each time because it only makes her grin grow wider.

What’s the absolute worst, though, is when Gabi pats him on the head. She does it so condescendingly with the sweetest smile on her face. Her touch is light, affectionate, and utterly humiliating. He’s waved her away once or twice, but she always finds a reason to put her hand on top of his head: because he has something in his hair, because his hair’s a mess, because his hair is so soft. It doesn’t matter how well-meaning her reason seems. Falco knows her real motive: to remind him of just how short he is by infantilizing him in whatever way she can.

“Oh, Falco,” Gabi says in a sing-song voice. She’s already looking at the top of his head, her hand reaching out to touch his hair. Her fingertips brush against his golden blond locks. “You have something in your hair-”

“No, I don’t!” Falco says, whacking her hand away. He regrets it immediately because now Gabi is standing over him, her hands behind her back and her lips curled in an amused grin.

“How would you know that?” Gabi says. She steps closer to him, hand still clasped behind her. “You can’t see the top of your head, can you? But I can easily because I’m-”

Falco doesn’t let her finish. He’s already heard it too many times before. “Whatever is in my hair, I’d rather it just … be there,” he says firmly.

Gabi stops smiling for a second and then blinks once. Twice. Her mouth spreads into a wide grin once again. “Aren’t you funny?” she coos. She reaches out to pinch Falco’s cheek. It doesn’t hurt, but Falco can feel his cheeks turning red just from her touch. “You don’t care if your hair’s a mess? Or is it really because … you hate how small this makes you feel?” Her hand finds its way to the top of Falco’s head, patting Falco like he’s a dog.

“So, you admit you’re doing this to humiliate me?” Falco asks. It comes out less indignant and more embarrassed, Falco’s cheeks still flushed in humiliation.

“Oh, please,” Gabi smiles. “I can do much worse.”

Falco should have run. He should have turned on his heel and taken off as far as his feet would take him. He knows that look on Gabi’s face, that knowing smirk and that mischievous glimmer in her eye, and he knows that whatever is to come next is absolutely no good. For whatever reason, he stays rooted to the spot even as his eyes widen in horror as Gabi reaches for him, her arms enveloping him right before she sweeps him right off his feet.

“What are you doing?” Falco yelps. He’s jostled around in Gabi’s arms, his chin bumping against her shoulder and then her head as she tries to find a comfortable place to hold him. Somehow, his arms find a way around Gabi’s neck as he hangs on for dear life. “W-what are you doing?”

“You must be so grumpy being so close to the ground all day,” Gabi says breezily. She’s carrying him like a bride and swinging him around like he weighs nothing. “The air is probably stuffy down there. Isn’t it nice being up this high?”

Falco is about to retort that the height she’s carrying him at right now is much shorter than his actual height, but he doesn’t get to because Gabi begins to spin around. He has to hang onto her for dear life because he’s afraid she might drop him. By the time Gabi’s stopped, his head is still spinning and he thinks he can see stars even though the sun is still out.

She lets him down gently, but Falco is still swaying as he stands. He holds his hand to his head as he begins to get his bearings. With a wince, he glances over at Gabi.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles.

Gabi smiles at him. She rests her elbow on his shoulder and the corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin grows wider. “Very,” she replies.

»»————-　★　————-««

He can’t believe it. Falco really can’t believe it. He’s finally growing taller, but it’s still not enough to beat Gabi. It’s just enough to decrease the gap between them. It’s a one centimeter difference. One measly centimeter, but somehow it bothers Falco more than when Gabi had been two centimeters taller than him.

“Can you just …?” Falco says, stepping nervously behind the nurse who’s already getting ready to measure the next person in line. He glances away when the nurse glares at him, but tugs on the man’s sleeve anyway. “I mean … it’ll only take a second. Are you sure I’m not, like, maybe a centimeter taller than you measured? You were measuring me pretty quickly …”

“Kid,” the nurse says, turning to Falco with a sigh. The person waiting in line looks mildly annoyed at the holdup. “How many times do we have to go through this? You know the rules. I measure you once, and you go.”

“Yeah, but-”

The nurse shakes his head and waves his ruler, gesturing for Falco to leave. “I have work to do.” The man sees Falco’s downcast expression and sighs. “If you’re really bothered just … get shoes with taller soles or something. That’ll do until you finally hit your growth spurt.”

Falco walks away, his shoes dragging against the hardwood floor. “As if I have the money to get new shoes,” he mutters. He stops when he sees someone in front of him. He probably shouldn’t be surprised that it’s Gabi standing in front of him looking as smug as ever.

“Hi, Falco,” she chirps.

“It’s one centimeter,” he tells her. He’s glowering, but Gabi doesn’t even flinch.

“It sure is,” Gabi grins.

“It’s one centimeter!” he says. He doesn’t know why he’s following her as she’s happily skipping away from him, probably to inform all their friends and classmates that she’s still taller than him. He just wants it to be clear: it’s only a one centimeter difference. “It’s not that much taller than me!”

He hates the way she stops and spins around, the way she stands so self-satisfied, the way she smiles at him with her shit-eating grin.

“It’s still one centimeter taller than you,” Gabi says.

Falco hates that the most.

»»————-　★　————-««

When it finally happens, Falco’s not as happy as he thought he would be. In fact, he’s not happy at all. Instead of celebrating the fact that he’s now half a centimeter taller than Gabi, he’s hovering nervously behind the nurse once more.

“Just one more time please!” he begs, tugging on the back of the man’s shirt. He doesn’t even flinch when the nurse swats him away like a mildly annoying gnat. “Are you sure I’m not even a little bit taller? Maybe like … a half-centimeter taller or even a whole centimeter taller than what you just said?”

“You’re as tall as I say you are the first time and not any taller,” the nurse replies. He turns his head to glare at Falco and wags the ruler in front of the boy’s face. “Stop begging me for remeasurements. I’ll start shaving off a centimeter from your height every time you ask.”

“Sorry!” he squeaks before scurrying off to sulk behind Udo.

Udo watches Falco amusedly as the blond shuffles around and mumbles unintelligibly under his breath. “I don’t see why you’re so bothered,” he tells Falco. “You’re finally taller than Gabi, so what’s the big deal?”

“It’s not enough,” Falco sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his golden locks irritatedly. “I’m finally taller than her, and she isn’t bothered at all! Just look at her!” He points a finger where Gabi is happily conversing with Zofia. Either she hasn’t heard the news or she doesn’t care. Considering the fact that she hardly even flinched when Falco crowed his new height measurement at the top of his lungs to the class, it’s most definitely the latter. Falco just doesn’t know why.

“... Maybe she just doesn’t know?” Udo guesses with a weak shrug of his shoulders.

Falco shakes his head. “No, she definitely knows.” He’s not so sure anymore. “R-right?”

Again, Udo shrugs.

If Gabi doesn’t know, then Falco needs to make sure she does. Maybe she hadn’t heard him the first time. Maybe she was too busy talking to Zofia to pay attention, Falco thinks as he marches over to where Zofia and Gabi are. Udo follows for moral support, but he sighs as he does because he knows Falco will never be satisfied with the outcome.

Only Zofia turns around when he reaches them. Gabi continues to speak to Zofia, not noticing that her other friends have joined them. It’s only when Falco clears his throat that Gabi stops speaking and looks over at him, eyebrows raised just the slightest bit like she’s feigning surprise.

“Oh, Falco,” she says, smiling delightedly. “Have you been there long?”

“I’m taller than you now,” Falco says, not even bothering to answer her question. He puffs out his chest as he says this, straightening his back to assert his newly achieved half-centimeter height difference over her. “I’m half a centimeter taller than you, in case you haven’t heard.”

To his surprise, Gabi’s smile doesn’t falter. On the contrary, it grows even wider, much to Falco’s horror. “So I’ve heard,” Gabi says. “Congrats, Falco. Good job on surpassing my height by half a centimeter. I’m really happy for you.”

“You … you are?” Falco deflates. His shoulders are slumped in disappointment. If Gabi were to stand up next to him right now, their height difference would be negligible. He had expected her to be infuriated that he had finally beaten her at something. It’s surprising that she hardly cares at all.

“Of course,” Gabi says with a shrug. She stands up, but she doesn’t straighten her back or even try to stand on her tiptoes. She just stands there, half a centimeter shorter than Falco but she carries herself so confidently that she might as well dwarf him. “Enjoy it while you can, Falco. I’ll catch up to you soon.”

He can only stare in open-mouthed disbelief as Gabi all but swaggers out of the classroom. “H-how?” he asks, running after her.

Gabi shrugs as if she hasn’t figured it out yet. It’s like she really doesn’t care at all.

Udo and Zofia have followed Falco and stand behind him as he clings onto the door frame with a frustrated hand.

“She could probably grow on sheer willpower alone,” Zofia says as she pats Falco’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Probably,” Udo agrees.

Falco sighs, leaning against the doorframe. He should just give up now. He could grow a full meter taller than Gabi, but he’d still never catch up to her. Never, he thinks with a smile.

#falbi #snk #canonverse #falco grice #gabi braun #requests #asks #answered #hikoseijuroxiii

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alittlextrathatway · 3 years

Note

Can you do 38 and 41 general brettsey in the same prompt? 😊

“Don’t let go.” + “Do you trust me?”

******

“Can we talk?”

Sylvie swallows thickly and hopes she imagined Casey asking that question. It’s been hard enough trying to simply live her life in the aftermath of every conversation they’ve had since the kiss. She really doesn’t want any additional difficulty.

But when she looks up from her tablet he’s definitely standing beside the table, watching her expectantly.

“Casey…”

He sighs as whatever reply she was going to say trails off. She doesn’t want to say yes but she can’t seem to say no either.

“Please?” He asks, his blue eyes finding hers.

His eyes are earnest and beseeching and the sliver of hope in her ability to say no dissolves at the sight of them. She nods stiffly, closes the case on her tablet, motioning for him to lead the way as she stands.

To her surprise he doesn’t lead her to his quarters. He leads her into the briefing room, shutting the blinds and locking both doors.

“I know you think I can’t move on from Gabby,” he says softly, stopping several feet in front of her and shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “But you’re wrong.”

“We’ve talked about this, Casey—“

“I hate when you call me Casey like that. Or Captain. It’s so...cold and distant. That’s not us, Sylvie. Hasn’t been in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” she says tiredly. “I have to. I have to put distance between us or I’ll never be able to let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t?” She asks in confusion.

“Don’t let go,” he insists. “Of us. Of me. Do you...do you know how I know you're wrong about my not being able to move on from Gabby?”

“Please, I don’t want to talk about this, Casey,” she says, tears building in her eyes.

“We have to,” he says, taking a few steps closer to her. “The distance and the space...it’s not helping. Either of us. We have to talk about this. It will eat us up inside if we don’t. Hell, it already is.”

There’s a moment of silence before he huffs in frustration.

“Ask me how I know, Sylvie. Ask me how I know I’ve moved on from Gabby,” he repeats.

“I can’t.” She truly can’t.

She doesn’t want to know the answer. If it has to do with Sydney she won’t be able to hide her tears. He’s been on a handful of dates with the woman and with each one Sylvie is more and more convinced that he could never feel for her what she feels for him. It’s the only reason she even dared to try with Greg.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, eating up the last of the space between them.

Despite everything, all the cracks and breaks in her heart, there will always be only one answer to that question.

“Yes.”

“Then ask me.”

She looks away from him and down at her shoes. She’ll ask, but she won’t look at him while she says the words. Not this time. Last time the conflicting emotions on his face haunted her for hours after he left. She will not inflict that on herself again.

“How do you know you’ve moved on from Gabby?” She asks, sounding less than enthusiastic about the question.

“Because you’re the one I can’t move on from.”

That gets her attention. Her head lifts in an instant to bring her eyes back to his. She’s desperately trying to put out the embers of hope in her chest. The last thing she needs is to have them sparked back to life.

“I’m sorry?” She asks in confusion. She must have heard him wrong.

“You are the person who I can’t stop thinking about. You are the only person I want to be with even when I’m out with someone else. I have moved on from Gabby. I moved on from Gabby a long time ago. You’re the one I can’t let go of — the person I don’t want to let go of,” he says.

Each word was said with such passion that it stokes the flame she could never fully put out. She’s been trying to suffocate it all this time, but it’s been a futile effort. It’s still there, still burning.

“If we give up now, I can’t help but feel like we’ll be throwing away something that has the potential to be everything you and I have ever wanted,” Matt tells her as she reaches for her hands. He laces their fingers together and releases an anxious breath, his shoulders dropping as he exhales. “Don’t throw it away. Let me try. Please, let me try.”

“But what about Sydney?” She asks, barely biting back the ‘oh god, yes’ that’s on the tip of her tongue.

“What about her?” He asks, releasing one of her hands to bring his hand to her face. He cups her cheek and tenderly traces a thumb across the apple of her cheek. “We went on two dates and I spent both of them thinking about you.”

The brightness in his eyes is briefly clouded over with embarrassment as he blushes and grins. He squints one eye and winces. The sheepish expression it leaves behind is much too adorable.

“I might have called her Sylvie once.”

She should feel badly about that, shouldn’t she? Guilty that Sydney had to suffer because of her, maybe? But she doesn’t. In fact, that little anecdote forces a smile to break across her face. She would have rather kept it in, but he doesn’t give her much choice.

“You didn’t,” she says, biting her bottom lip to keep from chuckling at him.

“Oh, I definitely did,” he replies, laughing at himself with a contrite grimace. “It was awkward.”

“If it helps,” she says, inhaling deeply in an attempt at seeking strength. “I may not have called Greg by your name but I definitely spent the majority of the time we were together comparing him to you.”

“Spent?” He asks. “You and he aren’t...I mean you’re not still--”

“No,” she answers swiftly, cutting off his question. “It felt too underhanded to keep seeing him and wishing he were you. I couldn’t do it.”

At those words, he releases her other hand to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to him. His hand spans over her cheek and jaw, his forehead is pressed to hers, and they’re standing chest to chest with his arm circling her waist. He’s a breath away from kissing her and, even after the last several weeks, she’s ready and willing. She’s been dying to kiss him again from the very minute she asked him to leave.

“Please let me take you to breakfast after shift,” he requests, throat bobbing as he gulps anxiously. “I have so much I want to say to you and as much as I want to say it here…”

She nods against his forehead. “I know. We’re working.” Her hands land on his shoulders and then drift up his neck until her fingers can slip into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His eyes close at her touch and a noise leaves his throat. It’s deeper than a sigh but quieter than a moan.

“Yes,” she says, finally answering him. “Yes, Matt, you can take me to breakfast after shift.”

His eyes open again as soon as she uses his first name and he flashes her a blinding teeth revealing smile. It’s something so rare and yet completely perfect. Especially on him. His arms tightens around her waist and he ducks his head, diving in to kiss her.

His lips ghost over hers but before he can fully swoop in…

The bells go off.

He groans pathetically, dropping his head to her shoulder. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Despite her own disappointment she laughs loudly, stepping out of his arms. “Don’t worry,” she tells him, running a soft touch through his hair. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

His brows lift as they both begin to march toward the briefing room door. “Later?”

She nods with a sultry smile. “At my place after breakfast.”

His eyes are bright but his mouth drops open in pleasant surprise. She takes the opportunity to sprint off ahead of him.

“Remind me,” he calls after her. “How many more hours are left in this shift?”

All she can do is laugh in response. The day took an unexpected turn, to say the least, but she’s ready for it. She’s ready to try. Because Matt’s right, if they give up now they’ll never know and what they have feels special. It could be everything she’s ever wanted.

They’ll never know if they don’t try and the time has finally come to try.

#chicago fire #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #fanfiction #angellwings writes #my fic #ask prompt #fanfiction prompt game #I think this one is my personal favorite 🥺

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crusherthedoctor · 4 years

Text

Why Jim Carrey’s Robotnik is The Fuckin’ Man™

Yep, the movie is still on my mind, and I'd say I love it even more with each passing day. Partly because it came as much relief during a time when IDW Sonic is continuing to aggravate me with nearly everything it does with its story and characters, but mostly because I just really enjoy it on its own merits (and unlike some people, I don't need to add “it's no masterpiece...” to every sentence as if I'm secretly ashamed about liking a Sonic the Hedgehog film). While the movie's portrayal of our old mate Robotnik is far from the only reason for why I love the film, he's obviously a huge factor all the same, so I felt like listing a few reasons for why - already - he's one of my favourite incarnations of the doctor yet.

A lot of it can be boiled down to how accurate he is to Eggman's character despite the face value differences, but to elaborate that little bit more:

- He's every bit as physical as Eggman is in the games. It would have been easy for Robotnik to be reduced to a Non-Action Big Bad in a live action role, given how often that tends to happen with similar villains in similar live action installments of similar franchises... But instead, Robotnik actually lives up to his character's habits and takes a very active role in his pursuits, culminating with him facing the hedgehog personally, and putting up a good fight in the process. Compare this to the supposedly more threatening SatAM Robotnik, who spent most of his time twiddling his thumbs and letting Snively do all the work.

- Also like game Eggman, he's stronger than he looks, and he's equally capable of handling himself in a fight. A much larger guy who Sonic had notable trouble with is thrown out a window like it's nothing by Robotnik, and despite getting caught off guard by Tom's attack from behind, he was quick to turn the tables enough for their brief fistfight to be considered a stalemate. And let's not get into whatever it was he apparently did to that school bully...

- While he's every bit the glorious ham you'd expect him to be, his witty remarks can be downright morbid at times. The first thing he does when he sees Sonic's seemingly dead body? Make a crack about PETA animal testing. Absolute legend.

- Not only is he funny and menacing in equal measures, but both sides of his personality seem to be working at the same time in a lot of his scenes, going from one to the other then back again in a matter of seconds. This makes him come off as unpredictable, which definitely adds to the tension involving him.

- The government is clearly terrified of him, treating the mere idea of hiring his services for the blackout investigation as though he's a Horseman of the Apocalypse, and being incredibly quick to give his existence the '06 retcon treatment when it looks like he's gone for good (spoiler: he won't be forgotten for long). But at the same time, they bring him in specifically because they know that he's the only one with the genius to handle the apparent threat that Sonic poses, and their own talk of him having helped out with numerous foreign coups in the past - probably single-handedly at that - is yet more proof that his credentials are no joke. If G.U.N. exists in this universe, they're basically admitting that they ain't shit compared to this one man.

- Despite technically acting on the government's behalf during the events of this film, Robotnik treats the affair in the same way that Blofeld treats his affiliation with Red China: Namely, it's a very transparent means to an end that will ultimately benefit himself more than them, and it's clear at all times that not only is he the one holding the reins, but that they're perfectly aware of this and are simply unable to do anything about it. Considering this is, again, the government we're talking about, that makes it abundantly clear before we even meet him in person that this guy isn't your typical basement dwelling mad scientist whose ambitions far outweigh their capabilities.

- In a Sonic the Hedgehog movie production starring Ivo Robotnik, played to perfection by Jim Carrey, the meme potential is too vast to quantify.

- His drones are essentially Matryoshka dolls of destruction, and they have the tricks and the persistence you'd expect to be saddled with that implication. They highlight the doctor's own determination in catching the hedgehog, and they also confirm his surprisingly keen sense of foresight in dealing with opposition. If only he leant some of that foresight to IDW Eggman...

- His big black truck is actually really badass for an “evil lair”, as the man himself labels it. It's equipped with the aforementioned super persistent drones, it comes with a hangar bay for his sizable hovercraft (which, by the way, just so happens to have an Egg Mobile colour scheme), he can experiment in his lab while he's on the move, and he even has wacky virtual simulators to play around with on the side... and the means to make a latte apparently. It may not have the scale of a Death Egg space station or an Eggmanland theme park, but considering this is an up-and-coming Eggman of sorts, it's a very interesting and impressive choice for the doctor's first humble abode, as it shows that even when he's just starting off, he's already thinking in a different (and cooler) wavelength than most.

- It didn't take him long at all to successfully harness the power of Sonic's quill in a manageable form, meaning he understood how Sonic's speed worked and was able to use it against the hedgehog himself in a relatively small amount of time. If Metal Sonic is ever introduced, he's likely going to be a juggernaut on par with his OVA portrayal.

- Yet another trait he shares with game Eggman: he does not cower. Sure, he might get startled by seeing Sonic for the first time, or accidentally getting creeped up on by Agent Stone, but in terms of legitimate fear, he has none to show for it. Sonic, who he thought was banished to the Shadow Realm killed, suddenly revives himself and takes back his quill by force, all the while throwing one hell of a death glare his way as he becomes supercharged with electricity. How does Robotnik react to this? By putting on his own game face (and his goggles) and staring him down for a final standoff. The idea of running away or pleading for mercy doesn't even appear to register in the doctor's mind.

- Even after going mad upon being stranded on the Mushroom Planet, he remains as determined as ever to reach his goals, and while he may have nothing else on him for the time being other than Sonic's quill, we know for a fact that his return is inevitable, and he'll be hitting twice as hard no matter what he decides to use. His final transformation into a more recognizable Eggman may be born out of isolation and insanity, but despite the circumstance, it's more strangely triumphant rather than tragic or pathetic. He even notes that lesser men would be hopeless in his predicament, and presumably that includes lesser villains as well.

- This face.

I want that face on a T-shirt.

Overall, despite the expected and at times necessary differences for a live action portrayal, Robotnik hasn't actually been watered down in terms of character OR threat level. He's already dangerous enough to risk the safety of the entire planet, and if the stinger is any indication, he's only getting started.

And you know what else? While it's obviously delightful that his resemblance shifts to being more Eggman-like by the end of the film (and the full moustache actually doesn't look too bad on Carrey's face), I don't think I would have minded that much if his appearance remained the same in a sequel, because the core of his portrayal was so perfect and quintessentially Eggman that the differences didn't even click after a while, even as I kept looking at them point blank.

That's how you know the guy did well. Although it probably also helps that his non-Eggman look is considerably more dignified and cool than SatAM Robotnik falling into a vat of concentrated 90's.

#Opinion #Dr. Ivo Robotnik #Sonic Movie

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

Text

halloween

back to you [series masterlist]

next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: alcohol, smut (18+), swearing, age gap (reader over 18), everything consensual

word count: 2.1k

a/n: there’s nothing sweet about this. i had a dream someone commented on one of my fics asking for smutty professor poe. no one actually did, but here we are. this is my first time writing smut so please be gentle if it sucks, but i’m honestly pretty proud of it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This was not how you expected your night to go.

It was Halloween night. When your friends suggested you go out to Ghostbar, a popular nightclub in the heart of the city, you thought you’d just be drinking and dancing, screaming out the lyrics of your favorite songs and maybe grinding up against a guy or two. Your sexy pirate costume showed just enough to warrant the term ‘sexy’ but not overly revealing that it gave away all the goods. You felt hot. Confident.

You never thought you’d run into one of your professors at the bar. Poe Dameron, of course, the one you had a crush on. How could you not? With his dark curls and easy smile, he was the epitome of sex appeal. What girl at your school didn’t have a crush on him?

You were getting a drink after your friends had seemingly disappeared. Coincidentally, he was also dressed as a pirate. He wore tight black pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination and a white billowy shirt with a deep v that showed off part of his tanned, toned chest. He hadn’t bothered to shave, the stubble covering his sharp jaw and making him look rugged. His dark eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner as part of his costume and you started to think that there was nothing this man couldn’t wear that he wouldn’t make look incredibly sexy.

Poe asked to buy you a drink as he sat down next to where you stood. You agreed with a sly smile and he put it on his tab. It wasn’t uncommon for professors to meet up with students at the local bars, grabbing a drink and chatting in a casual setting. You went to a smaller university, so students often had overlap with professors for different classes. Some of the professors got to know their students more than others, Poe being one of them. He was ten years your senior but one of the youngest professors at the school. It was easy for him to get along with his students.

“So, Professor D—“

“Professor’s so formal. Call me Poe. Besides, I’m not technically your teacher right now, am I?”

His class had been half a semester long, a full semester’s worth of work condensed into half that time. Your last day of his class had been the previous day.

“I guess not.” You bit back a smile. “So what brings you here tonight, Poe?I didn’t take you as a nightclub kind of guy.”

“I’m not usually, but a few friends dragged me out. What about you?”

“I also came here with a group of friends, but they clearly abandoned me. My guess is they’re at the foam party, I know they wanted to check that out.”

“You didn’t want to?”

“A little too much for my taste, but after a few more drinks that could be a completely different story. After all, it is Halloween. All order is suspended, there are no rules, and anything goes.”

One drink with Poe turned into two, which turned into tequila shots. More people had made their way to the bar, squishing themselves next to you. It made you stumble forward, and you were now standing between his legs, his hand resting just below your hip to keep you steady. You were pleasantly buzzed, not really aware of the people around you but very aware of the way the tips of Poe’s fingers grazed down your side and began tracing the bare skin of your thighs through your fishnet tights. The simple touch and the way his hooded eyes looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive was enough to make you grow wet between your legs. He leaned forward, his fingers ceasing their movements.

“What do you say to going somewhere less crowded?” Poe’s low voice vibrated against your cheek, his lips just grazing your ear. You heart was pounding and you could feel how damp your underwear was.

You would’ve followed him anywhere. A million different things were happening around you and your only focus was him. Right now he wasn’t your professor and you weren’t his student. He was a handsome man buying you drinks and getting a little handsy and you were a woman flirting and letting him. Poe eyed the bathrooms across the floor, and you nodded as he went ahead, checking out his ass as he walked away. You finished the rest of your drink and took two steps in the same direction when you saw him come back, shaking his head. But he had a backup plan. Poe grabbed your hand and you followed him down the stairs and out the door.

Poe backed you into the darkness of the alleyway and trapped you between the wall and his body, kissing you fiercely. The bite of the cold autumn night was nothing compared to the heat you felt all over your body. You always imagined he’d be an amazing kisser, his lips always looking soft and plump, but this was beyond anything you imagined. He lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. The wall of the building was rough against your skin. You guessed there’d be some scrapes, but the thought of the combination of the rough wall and Poe’s soft skin both rubbing against you turned you on more than you thought. His large hands rested on your exposed torso, caressing right underneath the curve of your breasts. You pushed your hip against his hardening cock, a delicious groan coming from deep in his chest that you felt beneath your hands as you ran your hands under the v of his shirt.

His mouth was doing things to you that you only imagined. He was a passionate speaker and you often found yourself daydreaming in the middle of class about what else his mouth could do. He alternated between sucking and biting your neck, his skilled tongue soothing the sting and leaving a display of marks behind.

“We can’t tell anybody.” He mumbled against your neck. You bit the shell of his ear, making him groan and squeeze your thighs. There would definitely be bruises there. “Definitely against the rules.”

“No rules tonight,” you purred in his ear before tracing it with your tongue.

Poe kissed you hard, a lust-fueled tangle of teeth and tongues. He untied the front of your cropped peasant top, revealing nothing underneath. He muttered something that sounded to you like ‘beautiful’ as he kissed down your neck to the valley of your chest. One of his large hands came up to cup your breast, kneading it firmly. His lips latched onto your other breast, the sensation of his lips on your nipple making you grip his hair hard. A soft cry came from you when he gently bit down before moving to the other one. You rolled your hips against his, feeling how hard he was against your leg.

You untucked his shirt, your hand dipping just below the waistband of his pants and going straight into his briefs. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him slowly. He was thick and long in your hand and you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of him inside you. He whispered a ‘fuck’ against your skin as your thumb brushed over the head, smearing the pre-cum that was there.

Poe placed you back on the ground and untied your shorts, pushing them down with your tights and underwear. He brushed his thumb over your clit, pulling a gasp from your mouth. He dragged his fingers over you, collecting the wetness. The tip of his middle and index fingers found your entrance, circling it but not entering. You whimpered pathetically. You were complete putty in his hands. He pushed his fingers in, only going so far as the first knuckle before pulling back. You begged him, the teasing becoming too much for you to handle with how worked up you were.

“Please, just fuck me.”

He wanted to keep teasing you, but in the alleyway, time was of the essence. Poe withdrew his fingers, bringing one leg up to hitch around his waist. He coated his cock with your arousal before entering you slowly. You threw your head back at being so deliciously filled. He let you adjust to his size for a couple of seconds before he pulled almost all the way out and thrusting in deeply. Your moans encouraged him and his hands held your hips hard as he pounded into you. One of your hands gripped his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt bunching up underneath your grasp, and the other hand wove into the hair on the base of his neck.

It was hard and fast, how being fucked in an alleyway usually was. His breath was hot on your ear. Neither of you were going to last much longer. Poe stalled for a minute to bring your other leg back up around his waist, your ankles locking behind his back as he drove deeper into you. The head of his cock brushed against the spot inside you that made you gasp in absolute pleasure, his name on your lips repeatedly like a prayer. He brushed the spot again and again and your moans became louder as the coil inside you was ready to snap.

“Poe—fuck—“

“Cum for me.” Poe growled. A couple flicks of his finger against your clit was enough to send you over and you clenched around him, riding out your mind-blowing orgasm. Poe grunted in response, his release creeping up on him.

“Fuck—where—“

You caught his eye and ran your tongue over your bottom lip. He pulled out of you, both of you hissing at the loss of contact and you sank to your knees. You took the head of his cock in your mouth and wrapped your hand around the base, pumping slowly as your mouth took more of him. One touch to the back of your throat and he came. He shot load after load into your mouth, all of it going down your throat. Once you were sure you got it all, you stood back up. Poe immediately captured your lips again, kissing you roughly as you slumped against the wall. Your legs were jelly. You pulled away breathless and giggled.

“Holy shit.” You said.

Poe gave you a smile as he leaned down to pull his pants up. He then helped pull your bottoms up, giving the inside of your thigh a quick kiss. You nearly moaned. You wished you had the time to see what his mouth could do between your legs. You tied your top back up and tamed your hair as best you could. You found your phone on the ground, the screen lighting up with text messages and catching your attention. You hadn’t even realized you dropped it. A quick look at the messages showed it was your friends wondering where you were and to meet you by the door.

“Gotta go?”

“Yeah.” You were still breathless and you took another couple of seconds to catch your breath. When you were certain you could walk again, you put your hand on Poe’s bare chest and kissed his cheek. You pulled back and bit your lip.

“I’ll see you around, Professor.”

You heard him chuckle as you walked away, adding a little extra sway to your hips because you knew he was watching. You showed the bouncer at the door the stamp on your wrist and he let you back inside. Your friends were waiting by the door just as they said and you gave them some excuse about getting fresh air when they asked where you were. It was still dark in the club and not even the lights outside could catch the hickeys on your neck and chest, but you knew they’d see them later.

Another group of people came inside, squeezing behind you to make their way in. A large hand on the small of your back caught your attention, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. You saw the back of Poe’s shirt disappearing back up the stairs towards the bar. You were a little grateful that you didn’t have his class anymore. There was no way you’d be able to sit and listen to him teach knowing how good a kisser he was and what his cock felt like inside of you.

But fate has a funny way of bringing people together.

#poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x you #smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #poe dameron #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron one shot

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tokoyamisstuff · 4 years

Text

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

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davids-cartoon-corkboard · 4 years

Note

Do you think that if Shredder!Raph will occur in rottmnt, the aftermath might result in Raph inheriting some of Shredder’s rage even after saved? Maybe that is how the crew is going to implement Raph’s trademark temper throughout previous generations and maybe even make him have to step down due to it, making Leo the new leader?

Short answer: “Inheriting the rage of a centuries-old demon" is a dope-ass idea, so if you’re a writer I would definitely encourage you to use that in your own stuff. But I think that if Raph’s temper worsens throughout the show, it should be because of his own character development and not a magical effect. However, a Shredder!Raph scenario could contribute to said worsening temper by inflicting emotional/psychological damage instead. :)

Long answer ahoy!

Looking at “Many Unhappy Returns” from the Shredder’s perspective makes it very clear why he does what he does. Like, he’s been dead for five hundred years, and then something went wrong with his resurrection. He’s waking up with no idea where he is or what’s going on and oh shit those guys are pointing weapons at him, that’s a threat!

Note that he doesn’t even bolt for them immediately, he does a warning stomp and screech (back off!) before starting to approach.

Those other guys are yelling, that’s also a threat,

and they’re closer so he’s gonna attack them first, actually. (None of the Foot wind up even comically injured, suggesting that flailing them around was an intimidation tactic rather than genuine Murderous Intent.)

And then the first group attacks, so of course he’s going to retaliate.

And then suddenly he’s somewhere else, with other threats (the animatronics), and then the first group that attacked him is back, so he’s gonna fight them again.

And these jerks just keep following him? He’s not going to ignore that. And WOW that’s a lot of bright lights and loud noises, which are also threats, what the fuck is going on?!

And then this tiny human girl chucks a giant metal box at him, holy SHIT?! Sure, the Shredder is a dangerous antagonist, but at this point I wouldn’t call him a “bad guy”, he’s literally just responding to what’s happening to him.

In summary, the Shredder was stressed tf out because he didn’t know where he was or what was happening, he retaliated against perceived threats, and quite possibly wouldn’t have attacked the turtles in the first place if they hadn’t just rushed in without understanding the situation.

Gosh, doesn’t that sound familiar?

So yeah, I’m waiting for Rise to give us that good good Shredder!Raph content.

As for the possibility of Leo taking over afterwards... no, but also yes, sort of? On the one hand, we know that Leo does have leadership capabilities, and it would be a waste for the narrative to not explore that. On the other hand, Rise has broken from the status quo in many ways, and it would also be a waste for the show to do a complete 180 and return to Leo Being The Leader™.

Consider how the “leader” role has influenced Leo in past iterations: his perfectionism wears on him and his brothers, any failure tanks his self-esteem, he feels isolated from the rest due to taking on such a large share of responsibility, being an authority figure grinds everyone’s gears, etc. It’s just bad for his mental health.

No doubt all this responsibility will also wear on Rise!Raph as the story progresses and the stakes get higher. It will be bad for him as well. But if Raph steps down, Leo will once again suffer from the weight of this role. So if neither option is quite correct, if neither brother can shoulder the burden of leadership alone, then the solution is just... for neither of them to shoulder the burden of leadership alone. Sure, Raph will probably remain leader in title and in spirit, but Leo taking on a sort of “deputy” role makes sense from a strategic standpoint, and would be good for his character development.

Here’s how I think it could go down:

The Shredder!Raph scenario will be different from the Shredder!Draxum scenario. The Shredder was starved for mystic energy the first time around, so he immediately chewed Draxum up and spit him out. But Raph could be compared more to a battery than a meal; it will take a while for the Shredder to drain him. And at this point the Shredder could be back in “evil samurai” mode, and thus will understand the value of holding Raph hostage.

Y’all who have followed my blog for a bit know about my “Raph is a system” theory; that when he was little, he got separated from his family and pursued by some cryptid hunter. This trauma formed Savage Raph, who is able to handle “being lost/alone/threatened” when Host Raph cannot. “Pizza Puffs” didn’t give us a lot of info about who I’m calling “Red Raph”, but he made his presence known when Host Raph was sort of... "emotionally alone”? In that his brothers were dying a little bit and too stoned to care.

So if Raph is trapped inside a living cage, scared and helpless and hurt and exhausted, his family unable to help him... he’s not going to be able to handle it.

Or, rather, Host Raph isn’t going to be able to handle it.

These two can, though.

I’m imagining a scene in the mindscape where the Shredder says something like “Your pathetic family cannot bear to strike you down, and so there is nothing that can stand in m- wait, why are there three of you OW FUCK-” Red and Savage will mentally kick his ass long enough for the other turtles to rip off a chunk of the armor so Leo can portal it into another dimension or something. Shredder gets K.O.’d since he’s not whole anymore, and the battle is won.

Since the armor didn’t drain Raph as severely as it did Draxum, he won’t become as weak as Draxum did. However, it will still take him some time to recover. Raph trusts Leo in serious moments as of “Many Unhappy Returns”, and he already took charge when Raph wasn’t available back in “Man vs. Sewer”. So Raph will be like, “Hey Leo, can you handle the Mad Dogs for a bit? Just long enough for me to get back on my feet.” And Leo will be like, “Sure bro, I’ve got this.”

He does not, in fact, “got this”. Leo’s ego has caused trouble before (”Shell in a Cell”, “Minotaur Maze”), and being in charge will no doubt go to his head. This has the potential for both comedy and seriousness, leading to wacky mishaps and genuine danger. Being the leader is hard work and it’s not always fun, but someone has to do it and Leo will have to put the others before himself for it to get done. Once Leo realizes this, he could bond with Raph by asking for his advice on leadership. Sometimes Leo will follow the advice and sometimes he won’t, sometimes that will work out and sometimes it won’t, laying the foundation for the idea that there are situations where it will be better for one or the other to lead, rather than having one lead all the time. But that will only happen for a few episodes, because Raph will heal quickly and he’ll be the leader again and everything will be fine!

Everything will not, in fact, be fine. Raph is the strongest in the family, the tank, the one who can take a hit so the smaller ones don’t have to... the idea of being hurt, of being weak, scares him because his family is also in danger if he’s unwell. So I don’t think he’ll acknowledge to anyone, not even himself, that getting possessed hurt him emotionally as well as physically. And when a wound isn’t acknowledged, it doesn’t get tended to, and when a wound isn’t tended to, it gets worse.

That he’s a system will add another layer of complexity to this. The Shredder!Raph incident would make all the alters aware of each other via mindscape shenanigans, but it would also leave them with the fear of not being in control, so I think they’ll come in conflict with each other for a bit. They’ll argue with themselves, switch, and lose time more often, enough that it impedes their ability to function and the other characters start to notice something is wrong.

Host Raph will convince himself that Everything Is Fine and try to get things “back to normal”, which probably means he’s just straight-up not going to acknowledge that he's a system. He’ll rationalize that he’s always “gotten weird” from time to time, so it’s nothing to think too hard about... right?

Savage Raph will be on high alert because they just survived a near-death (a near soul-destroying) experience. He’ll probably take the front and go overboard fighting some villains that Host Raph could have ordinarily fought on his own. It might also take a while to convince Savage Raph that these “sewer monsters” who keep following him around really don’t mean him any harm.

Red Raph will get snappy (pardon the pun) about the more social aspect of “not being in control”; that Host Raph asked Leo to be in charge and then Leo started being an egotistical dumbass. And when Leo does make the right decisions, Donnie and Mikey might side with him over Raph, and that will also grind his gears.

Mix all that together and you have a recipe for a capital b Breakdown.

So yeah, I can definitely see how the Shredder!Raph incident and its aftermath would worsen all three of their tempers, trauma will fuck up your emotions real bad. Perhaps Host Raph loses faith in himself and tries to step down and get Leo to replace him as leader... only for Leo to be like “Bro I cannot do this full time I will one hundred percent have my own Breakdown if that happens.”

The life lessons here are that Leo learns to offer support by sometimes taking the leader role; not to benefit his own ego, but because he wants to help Raph. And Raph learns to accept support by letting Leo be in charge sometimes; not because he’s weak or incapable, but because he can’t always be a Staunch Immovable Rock and he needs to let himself rest by trusting Leo.

And then the Raphs can work on communicating, cooperating, letting their allies know about them, digging into their trauma, etc. now that they have some breathing room.

(Do you think the Hidden City has therapists? Steven Universe and Mao Mao both have therapists can we BLEASE get one for Raph.)

#Anonymous #rottmnt #rottmnt theory #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt shredder #shredder!raph #savage raph #red raph #there's like 1800 words here holy shit #if anyone wants to do fic for this u have my blessing to go hog wild #the 'raph is a system' theory

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fusonzai · 3 years

Text

I think I'm talking about confidence, I'm not too sure.

I was fifteen when I first saw Great Teacher Onizuka. My friend had lent me the DVD set (as you did when it was 2008) and I was about to spend the day watching it, feigning some illness to get out of school for the day. I needed some time alone, to process everything that had been going on around me.

For context, my parents were in the middle of a divorce. My mum, the most amazing person in the world to me, was not having a good time and I was not at all possessed with the skills to help her cope. Processing the concept of divorce, while trying to mediate the two adults going through it, wasn’t something I could handle. I didn’t know what I was doing. I needed a whole day away from friends and away from parents. While everyone was at their day job, I could think about everything and nothing, uninterrupted.

My attempt at getting out of school worked, however it came with a caveat. Mum had decided she’d take the day off with me. Feeling defeated but still stubborn, I insisted that if she was going to stay home too that we were watching GTO. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

GTO begins with our protagonist, Eikuchi Onizuka, squatting down by a payphone, trying to stare up the skirts of some high school girls coming down the nearby escalator. That’s a bold open. Two delinquents notice this and attempt to then extort him for cash. He promptly beats them up, forcing them to use all the money they have to buy him some food from the nearby convenience store. This scene establishes a few things straight off the bat: Onizuka is, first and foremost, a pervert and he’s physically strong but not to the point of unfairly asserting dominance over others. Onizuka dreams of being a teacher of all things. He wants to be the teacher he never had, being there for students outside the classroom as well as in. The series showcases Onizuka using his ex-biker gang leader skills and sheer determination to change the attitude of the antagonist students in his class. Each week he solves the reason behind their resistance toward him and they join his team until eventually he really is the Great Teacher, Onizuka.

The first delinquent problem Onizuka solves is that of Mizuki Nanako. Her parents aren’t divorced but they’re not exactly doing well. Ever since her father’s company started doing well and they moved into a mansion, she feels as though her parents just aren’t seeing eye to eye anymore. She blames it on a simple wall separating her parents’ private rooms. Before it got put up, her parents would talk and laugh together, sharing in their joys but also their defeats. Then before she knew it, they put a wall up and stopped sharing anything at all.

So, Onizuka arrives at her house. He’s got a bandana tied around his head, his abs gleaming as he’s smoking a cigarette. More importantly, he’s holding a sledgehammer, ready to demolish that wall. With her parents yelling at him threatening to call the police, Onizuka ascends the staircase and begins to take down that wall. Every powerful swing, shaking the wall and cracking the foundation.

(What a man what a man what a man what a might good man)

It felt cruel watching this scene with my mum. Here we were, two people still trying to process a big life event, opting to spend the day away from the problem. Here Onizuka was, just smashing through the problem with nothing but conviction, stupidity and sheer confidence. I couldn’t quite conceptualise the thought just yet but I think I envied that confidence. I wanted to be able to take a sledgehammer to this invisible problem and fix it. I didn’t know what an actual sledgehammer would solve nor was I even able to figure out what my situational sledgehammer would be, I just knew I wanted to be more like that. I wanted that confidence; I just didn’t know what it was yet.

Confidence. A complete assuredness in your actions. You may not have any idea of the outcome of said actions but you’re certain in the choice you made taking them. Maybe that’s just one definition. I struggle to this day with how to define confidence, I’ve been confident at different times in my life for different reasons. Mainly it’s been something I’ve found as I’ve gotten older though.

I struggled a lot with it when I was younger. I’d struggle to find it and when I did there was someone there trying to take it from me almost immediately. Pink polos were gay, skinny jeans were gay, being interested in anything outside the norm was gay as well. I wasn’t bullied by any means but there was always somebody around to tell you what they thought. I’d fold under that kind of pressure. I remember when I was 10 and we were in music class, I sang a little too loud and the popular girls behind me started pointing and laughing, clipping me before I got too sure of myself.

I got older and I thought I’d found confidence through weight training, but it was just arrogance. I genuinely thought I was better than other people in my creative writing class because I picked heavy things up and put them down. Of course, this had a drawback, whenever I’d meet someone bigger than me, I’d feel pathetic, jealous and inferior. I thought I’d rid myself of this arrogance when I started studying Japanese. My initial study was diligent and excessive. I’d have two Japanese classes a week and spend the rest of my time after work revising. Looking back now it was necessarily efficient studying, but in terms of time put in the hours were there. I believed I was working hard, which led to this arrogance in my abilities. An arrogance that was swiftly cut down whenever I met somebody better than me.

So, I always arrived at this juncture where I’d learn a new skill or hobby and wonder how to be confident in myself without comparing myself to others. I didn’t quite know how to praise myself for doing well at the gym or learning something new in Japanese without immediately comparing myself to others. It meant that I’d occasionally have these emotional highs when I achieved something only to be brought down to earth when I saw that somebody could do it better. I didn’t know how to make my achievements my own. The confidence I had was too fickle, it didn’t come from within and it often led to feeling superior to others based off of a single quantifier.

I was still uncomfortable with myself. I wanted outside validation which led to comparison, boasting and arrogance. I didn’t realise that I couldn’t get any of that from anyone else, it all had to come from within.

It’s taken me 14 years, but Onizuka finally made sense to me. I was watching the incredibly famous (in Japan) live action version of GTO one night, which turned into a nostalgia trip as all the episodes were almost identical to their anime equivalent. As I was watching I was wondering why I still hold this fictional character in such high regard, of all the powerful charismatic anime protagonists I watched in my teenage years, why does Onizuka persevere?

It’s because he’s kind of a dork.

(Get you a man that can do both)

Along with the confidence and strength that being a protagonist in a medium geared towards young boys affords you, Onizuka also has some very human flaws and vulnerabilities. The intense scenes like surprise renovating Nanako’s house or rescuing a whole bunch of kids from a gang are always juxtaposed with him being absolutely wayward in so many other aspects of life. He lives at the school because he can’t afford rent, he’s 26 and never had a girlfriend and his only friends are his students. We are always shown that his confidence isn’t intrinsically linked to how well his life is going, it’s just his feeling and determination in the moment. For all that bravado we see, we’re also shown the more human, relatable aspects. He’s amazing, brave and confident, but at the same time he’s still vulnerable and human.

Yet here’s the thing, I thought confidence meant a lack of vulnerability. I thought one couldn’t be both confident and vulnerable. This isn’t some segue into Boys Don’t Cry or a delve into masculinity. I didn’t believe that vulnerability wasn’t masculine, I just thought that vulnerability meant you had a long way to go before you were allowed to be confident.

(These lines go from bravado to insecurity in an instant, but I still think Tyler is confident as fuck)

I show what I feel to be the pretty vulnerable content on this blog. I write about my doubts and insecurities, the events that shaped me and the times in my life where I really felt at my lowest. I document the struggle I find myself in now, trying to carve something for myself and come to terms with the changes that keep happening around me. I don’t think anybody reading this would have an image of me as an outgoing, confident person. There’s rays of positivity sprinkled in occasionally but it’s generally content that I struggle to tell people in person.

Before starting this blog, I would have imagined that if I wanted to become this confident idealised version of myself, I’d need to erase any form of vulnerability. Delete the Instagram posts with moody lyrics, delete the couple shots and stop caring. I’d need to kill part of myself to become someone different. I couldn’t consciously accept that they were two signs of the same coin, even if I knew it in the back of my mind. The more I’ve been writing the better I’ve been feeling. These fears and insecurities being out in the open don’t make me any weaker, they actually feel like progress. My weaknesses will exist regardless of whether or not I tell people about them, my insecurities won’t disappear overnight. I’ll never be someone I’m not. What I can do is take these things that used to terrify me and put them out in the open. In my last piece I waxed on about making my words my own, by verbalising and bringing these thoughts into the open I feel like they become my own. They’re not completely stripped of power but they don’t hold the same sway over me that they once did.

So that leaves me with confidence. I can air my vulnerabilities and doubts but then where does my confidence come from? How do I then stop it from becoming arrogance?

Let me tell you about Charisma Man.

You know how when Superman goes back to Krypton he’s just a regular person, but on Earth he’s basically a God? Charisma Man is a joke (turned comic) about how Western Men often believe themselves to be Superman on Earth when they move to Japan. Why? You’re basically bombarded with compliments from the get-go. You get told your Japanese is amazing (when it’s not), that you’re so tall (when you’re short back home) and that you’re such a handsome man (when all experiences up until now have led you to believe the opposite). Thus, you create a kind of false confidence for yourself. Or do the people around you do it for you? You yourself haven’t changed but the people around you have, and they’re whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

(Honestly didn't know it was a comic, initially heard of it on a subreddit making fun of other expats in Japan)

Hell, maybe I am good looking? I studied Japanese for a year back home, maybe I am just really good at it? Maybe those people around me back home were just obnoxiously tall and mean. Maybe I am the shit. You begin to formulate this new identity for yourself. You are Charisma Man now. You’ll be making heaps of money, have girls on standby and be loved by everybody in no time.

Except that never happens.

The reality of Charisma Man isn’t so bright. You’re probably an English teacher living somewhere far away from the big city. Your apartment is probably small and old and your salary is half as much as you were making back home. Despite being told about how good your Japanese is, you still can’t turn on the TV and watch a program. You still can’t go to the bank and open an account with your bilingual Japanese friend. You’re still single and you’re probably getting fatter off convenience store fried chicken, if anything.

It’s fake confidence with no merit, built on nothing. You haven’t put yourself out there or done anything to earn that confidence so it always feels foreign to you. There isn’t some feat you perform or some hurdle you cross to get that kind of confidence. You’re not smashing walls with your sledgehammer or confronting your fears and growing. You just get fed compliments until your confidence balloon bursts.

I felt like I was Charisma Man for a hot minute. Separated from everyone I knew, out drinking every night, being complimented left right and centre. I kept trying and failing to keep my feet on the ground. Back then I thought it was new-found confidence, but I wasn’t really coming out of my shell; I was just being obnoxious. After long the facade faded and I realised I was the exact same Elliot I was back in Australia, just with less money and a nicer haircut.

I began to think about my experience. Why was I so confident? Why did it dissipate so quickly? Why was I not the only one that experienced this little phenomenon?

I came to the conclusion that confidence can come from many places. It can come from other people, but then it’s reliant on the praise of others. It’s shallow, fickle and bound to dissipate sooner rather than later. You’re constantly reliant on the praise of others to affirm who you are as a person, you can fool people into giving you praise but that goes away before you know it as well.

It’s a big enough of a struggle to understand yourself, it’s near impossible to understand strangers. Relying on such an unstable form of validation is essentially just inviting mental trauma in the long run.

On the other hand, confidence can also come from within.

After I distanced myself from all that charisma, I began to realise that I felt my best and my most confident when I actually put the work in. I started properly studying, eating well, and writing down my thoughts. It didn’t matter as much if people didn’t say anything, because I went to bed every night knowing that I put in enough work. Nobody said anything about the change, but I felt like I was becoming my own biggest supporter.

It’s both rewarding and daunting when you switch dopamine suppliers. I used past tense in those last few sentences because that particular fountain hasn’t been flowing so well lately. The flip side of not letting other people’s compliments fuel you anymore is that when you’re not doing right by yourself, that confidence tend to dry up pretty quickly.

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mfingenius · 4 years

Text

Saviour of the Wizarding World

WARNINGS: Dark Harry, Manipulation, Underage sex (brief and not entirely explicit)

Narcissa is a Slytherin, and despite what many may think, that means loyalty. Final, deathly loyalty, if only to a select few. In Narcissa’s case, there’s one person in the entire world who has her loyalty that way. Not her husband, not her sisters—her son. Draco is, and will forever be, the only person she’ll give anything for. Whatever it takes to keep him safe, she’ll do it.

Which is why she takes him to Harry Potter.

“You want him to – stay here.” She put a little potion in his drink, before. Now, he’s deeply asleep, and Potter is holding him in his arms; Draco’s face is so peaceful, this way. When she watches him sleep, the peaceful expression on his face can almost make her believe nothing’s wrong in the world.

“Yes,” she responds calmly. She’s breaking her own heart, doing this; she knows this might very well be the last time she sees Draco, but because she can’t go through with this if she thinks about that, she doesn’t.

Instead, she purses her lips, straightens, and nods to further cement her conviction.

“Yes,” she repeats. “I want you to protect him.”

Potter looks down at Draco’s sleeping face, and then up at her again.

“Alright,” he says. There’s something different about Potter—something more powerful, something darker.

It’s nothing compared to the Dark Lord’s darkness.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” She presses a kiss to her son’s hair, and takes a step back.

This is goodbye, most likely forever.

Narcissa is a Slytherin, and that means making choices, even when they’re hard ones; she knows she’s in a situation with no way out. No way to protect her son, no way to protect herself, no way to keep out the monsters her husband’s brought into their lives, into their home. So alright, she can’t keep them out, she can’t protect her son, but she knows someone who can.

So she makes the choice.

And she walks away.

“Where am I?” It’s the first thing Draco asks when he wakes. He’s in a long shirt and sweatpants, both Harry’s. Narcissa had given him to Harry in black robes, but Harry didn’t want to see him that way, like the uptight, proper wizard he pretends to be. This way, Draco’s more likely to realize that everything in here is Harry’s. Including him.

“Grimmauld Place,” Harry says. He’s sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea, reading the muggle newspaper.

“Why?”

“Your mother dropped you off here, darling.” Draco flushes at the nickname, and Harry cocks an eyebrow in amusement. “For me to protect.”

“I don’t need protection, Potter,” Draco bites out.

Harry gives him a humorless smile. “You don’t need to take that tone with me, darling. There’s no one else here, you don’t need to pretend to be strong.”

He knows that underneath that biting exterior, Draco’s soft; he’s seen it in the way Draco holds himself when no one’s looking, small, and lonely, and oh-so-scared. He doesn’t need to pretend around Harry; he knows who Draco really is.

“I-” Draco looks ashamed, for a moment, and then a little scared. “Will you? Protect me?”

“Of course I will, darling,” Harry says. He’s decided Draco Malfoy is his now, and he takes care of what’s his. “Do you want some breakfast?”

He waves his wand, and dozens of options appear on the table, and Draco looks surprised.

“Take a seat,” Harry tells him.

He watches as Draco tiptoes around the kitchen shily, choosing the chair across from Harry’s. He sits, finally, and shifts nervously under Harry’s intense gaze.

“Oh, and darling? Don’t you dare call me Potter again,” Harry says. “Call me Harry.”

“Alright, Harry.”

Harry insists they sleep together: ‘How am I going to protect you darling, if you’re not with me all the time?’ Draco agrees after that.

Draco’s pajamas are Harry’s, because he doesn’t have anything of his own; he only wears a long shirt that barely covers his arse. Draco’s cheeks are burning red when they get into bed.

Harry presses them together everywhere, his hard chest against Draco’s back, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist tightly and squeezing until Draco lets out a soft sound of pain.

“I’ll be right here,” Harry reminds him. “If you move at all, I’ll know.”

It’s comforting. Nothing can touch him, not while Harry’s here with him.

“Thank you, Harry,” he whispers.

Harry presses a kiss to the back of his neck – which makes Draco’s cheeks redden further – and then turns the light off with a wave of his hand.

“This is-” Draco can barely find words. “Amazing.”

The library in Grimmauld Place is huge, and mostly filled with books about dark magic; Harry’s read them all, and he’s picked up more than a few tricks. He’s been emptying it out for the last few days – he doesn’t want his darling exposed to the dark things – only leaving the books that aren’t related to dark magic, moving the most interesting dark-magic ones into his own private library, one he won’t tell Draco about. Even though it’s much emptier now, there are still plenty of books to choose from.

“You can read any of them you want, darling,” Harry says, and Draco looks at him with wide eyes. “If you get bored, I’ll get you more. Anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything at all.”

“I was thinking,” Draco tells him, while cooking breakfast. He’d burned every meal the first few days, but Harry’s nothing if not patient, and he’s getting better thanks to Harry’s teaching. “About Hogwarts.”

“What about Hogwarts?”

“The summer is almost over,” Draco says. “Maybe we should buy our things-”

“Darling,” Harry interrupts, not looking up at him from where he’s writing a letter to Hermione. She and Ron are looking into a few things Harry asked them to. “We’re not going back to Hogwarts.”

“What?” Draco pauses, and Harry begins to smell burning toast. He sighs and looks at him, standing in the middle of the kitchen, pushing his sleeves up continually because the hoodie he’s wearing today is too big on him.

“Did you think we were?” At Draco’s nod, Harry shakes his head and smirks at his darling’s silliness. “Darling, no. I don’t want you hurt.”

“But-” Draco seems at a loss. “But it’s Hogwarts! I won’t get hurt there, the teachers are-”

“No one can protect you like I can,” Harry snaps, and Draco flinches back slightly. He shifts uncertainly on his feet, and Harry sighs and rubs at his temple. “Come here, darling.”

Draco does, cautiously, and when he’s close enough, Harry grabs him by the wrist and pulls him into his lap. Draco makes a soft noise, a squeak, almost, and his face goes red. Harry smirks drily, cupping his cheek.

“You know I only want what’s best for you?” He asks. Draco nods, and Harry rubs his thumb across his cheekbone once. “I only want to protect you, darling. I’ve seen so many things – you've seen them too, in the Manor. You’ve seen what Voldemort has done, what he plans on doing. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“But it’s Hogwarts,” Draco argues, evidently confused. It’s alright; Harry’ll teach him better than to question him, soon. He just needs gentle nudging. “I don’t understand how I could be in danger there.”

“It’s alright if you don’t understand it darling,” Harry soothes, giving him a soft smile. “You don’t have to; you just have to trust me.”

Draco looks away, ashamed and unhappy, and Harry tightens his grip on Draco’s face, just until he looks at him. He rewards him by easing off the pressure, running his thumb over Draco’s cheekbone again.

“Voldemort’s gotten in before,” he reminds him, endlessly patient and willing to explain anything his darling wants him to. “Every year, before he was even back. There’s nowhere else you’re safe, only here, only with me.”

Draco’s eyes are huge, uneasy, and he looks at Harry while chewing his lower lip. “You think so?”

“I do.”

“Alright,” Draco says. “Alright, I – we'll stay here.”

Harry rewards him with a kind smile. “I’m glad you understand, darling.”

And he pulls him into a deep kiss.

Their first time is sweet, Harry makes sure of it, after Draco goes red during one of their snogging sessions in bed and confesses that he’s never done anything. Don’t worry, darling, Harry tells him. I’ll guide you through it.

Draco goes sweet in his arms, soft and pliant, and he likes everything Harry does. His face is brilliantly red the entire time, but Harry makes him forget his embarrassment quickly enough.

Harry loves watching him squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stifle moans, until Harry tells him there’s no one else there, that he wants to hear him. When he gives a particularly sharp thrust, Draco moans loudly, and he gives up on quieting himself after that.

Harry loves it, loves him.

He decides then and there that he’s never letting Draco go.

“We’ll need to do something quick.” Hermione serves herself tea and takes the steaming cup in her hands; she’s been looking into the Ministry for the past few months, learning how it works and how it doesn’t so their plan can work. “Before Hogwarts, so they don’t expect it.”

“We’re ready,.” Ron agrees. “Set off muggle bombs, first, and then we’ll go in ourselves. The fuckers are so pathetically uninformed, they won’t even know what the bombs are.”

Harry nods and leans back in his chair; they’re meeting in his private office, because he hadn’t wanted Draco hearing of this, doesn’t want to worry him.

“Alright,” he says easily. “And afterwards?”

They'll need to be quick with that, too. Harry’ll replace the Minister of Magic, Hermione will be Senior Undersecretary, and Ron will be the head of the DMLE. Harry has already appointed other positions, everything planned out carefully so there’ll be no chance of resistance.

“There’ll be a ceremony, to reward us,” Hermione rolls her eyes. “We’ll do it then. It’ll need to be public, and it’ll need to be quick. I’ve people ready.”

She’s taken care of finding the others willing to overthrow the Ministry; it hadn’t been that hard, she’d told them. Everyone was terrified, and, those who weren’t agreeable, she’d Imperioed.

“Okay,” Harry agrees. “We’re ready.”

Overtaking Malfoy Manor is not nearly as complicated as they’ve prepared for; as Ron had predicted, none of the Death Eaters know what bombs are, and, the first few kill off two dozens of them.

Afterwards, they’re free to just step in; Harry lets his magic loose, the fear, the anger of it driving him, making him feel good.

His lets his magic wrap around Voldemort’s neck, around Bellatrix’s, Dolohov’s. He leaves the rest to Ron and Hermione, both with their own fair share of anger to let go of. He ignores the screams as he looks down at Voldemort’s eyes until they go cold and lifeless.

Destroying the Horocruxes had been fun, watching pieces of Voldemort’s soul die, but it was nothing compared to this.

This is so much better.

“Our Savior!” As Hermione had predicted, there’s a ceremony.

Harry stands and walks up to the stage, shaking the Minister’s hand and smiling at the flashing cameras.

Hermione nods at him from the crowd.

Harry grabs his wand.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Why aren’t you sleeping, darling?” Harry asks Draco when he gets home at dawn. He’d told Draco not to wait up, because he’d known it would take time.

It did. After they’d killed half the Ministry officials and imprisoned the other half, Harry had given his first speech as Minister of Magic, explaining how things would be from then on; he’s doing this for their own good, even if they don’t understand it. They didn’t have to see Voldemort, feel him in their heads. They don’t know what the Ministry was up to. Harry does.

They’ve named him their Savior, and he’s going to save them. Even if he has to save them from themselves.

“Harry,” Draco says excitedly, crawling across the bed to kiss Harry deeply. Harry immediately takes control, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist and then squeezing his arse until Draco whimpers. “Harry.”

He’s only in a long shirt – Harry's, as Harry loves seeing him in his clothes and, well, it’s not like Draco needs his own, does he, since he doesn’t go out of the house – and Harry’s going to rip it off him, as soon as they’re done with this conversation.

“What’s going on, darling?”

Draco’s eyes are shining, grin the brightest thing in the room. “I’m pregnant.”

“You are?” Harry’s day couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Yes!” Draco exclaims, and Harry grins and kisses him again, pulling at his thighs. Draco squeals as he’s thrown on his back on their bed, looking up at Harry; he looks the happiest Harry’s ever seen him.

Good.

Draco suddenly gets an anxious look on his face, and he looks up at Harry through his eyelashes.

“You’re happy, too, right?” he asks shyly.

Harry’s heart melts, and he leans over to kiss Draco deeply. “Of course, darling. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Draco says, smiling softly.

Harry smiles.

“Strip for me,” he orders.

Draco laughs and gives him a wink before teasingly beginning to lift the hem of the shirt.

“Draco.” Pansy is the first person other than Harry that Draco has seen in months. Even Ron and Hermione have been too busy to visit; he knows they’re busy rebuilding the Ministry, but sometimes he feels a little lonely, with Harry at work a lot of the time.

He’d told Harry, and, of course, Harry had immediately arranged for Pansy and Blaise to visit.

His husband’s so good to him.

“Pansy, Blaise!” Draco grins, hugging them. They feel odd in his arms, thinner and weaker. He frowns. “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” Blaise says; he’s looking around nervously. Draco knows Harry has surveillance charms everywhere in the house, for his protection, and he floos several times a day to make sure Draco’s alright. There’s nothing to be afraid of, not in here.

“Well, come on,” Draco tells them. “We’ll have tea in the garden.”

They’ve expanded and renovated Grimmauld Place – now Potter Manor – and now it has a big garden out back, the only place Draco gets fresh air. He spends much of his time gardening there, and he’s made it gorgeous. He’s very proud of it.

His friends sit down, still looking around, terrified, and Draco wants to soothe them. There’s nothing bad in here, not like outside. Here, nothing can hurt him, or their baby, or his friends. Here, everything’s perfect.

He serves the tea and sits down on one of the chairs, shedding his thick cloak since the sun is warming.

His belly’s showing lightly; he’s six months along by now, and in only three months Harry and him will have their baby. A boy, he knows; the healer told him so, when she came for their last appointment a couple of weeks ago.

Pansy looks horrified when she catches sight of it.

“Draco,” she whispers. “Are you – is it – his?”

“Harry’s?” Draco asks with a frown. “Of course! He’s my husband, who else’s would it be?”

Pansy’s paled, and she looks like she can’t speak.

“We need to leave,” Blaise says urgently. “Draco, we need to leave now. We can get you out of here, we can run away-”

“Why would I want to get out of here?” Draco asks, confused.

Blaise looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Draco it’s been three years since you’ve stepped out of this house! Potter’s gone insane, we need to leave-”

“I’m not leaving my husband,” Draco says coldly.

“He’s brainwashed you, Draco, you don’t know what you’re saying!” Pansy says desperately. “You don’t know what he’s done! Blaise and I are in Azkaban! This is the first time we’ve been out in months, we need to take this opportunity.”

And she reaches out to grab his wrist, but Draco recoils.

“What did you do?” he asks in a whisper. “To be put in Azkaban? What did you do to Harry?”

“Nothing!” Blaise says frantically. “Nothing, Draco, fuck! He’s just – he's begun putting people in Azkaban for anything, for everything, he’s-”

“Leave,” Draco says.

“What?”

“Leave,” he snaps. “I don’t want you here if you’re - like this now.”

“But Draco-”

“Leave!” He snarls.

“Darling?” Harry asks when he enters their bedroom that afternoon; his guards had told him they’d picked up Parkinson and Zabini early, and that they’re in their cells again. Harry’s glad; he doesn’t like them, and he doesn’t want them in this house, but he’d do anything for Draco.

Except, of course, letting him leave.

“I’m here.” Draco’s crying.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Harry climbs in beside him, still in his robes, and pulls his husband close, letting Draco cry into his chest.

“Pansy and Blaise were horrible!” he cries.

“What?” Harry asks, immediately, blindingly furious.

“They - they wanted to take me away from you, they kept saying things-” Draco breaks off in a sob, and Harry pulls him close, magic flickering threateningly at the thought of anyone even daring to think they could take Draco away from him.

“Hush, darling, everything’s alright,” Harry murmurs, pulling his husband closer. “No one is ever taking you away from me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Harry says.

He’ll die before he lets that happen.

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medea10 · 4 years

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My Review of Rent-A-Girlfriend

How did I get into this anime? Let’s just say due to a few websites I frequent around decided to be little whore-ish, I became curious by this particular title. Let’s just say they were mentioning this one at least every other day prior to the premier. So out of natural curiosity and knowing nothing of what I’m getting into, I decided to add another Friday anime to my watch list. I guess Fridays are my busy day for watching anime!

Kazuya Kinoshita is a 20 year old college student. Life seems to be going well for him until his girlfriend decides to dump him.

Not even 30 seconds into this anime and this sad-sack gets dumped!

SERIOUSLY! 18 SECONDS! NEW FRIGGIN’ RECORD!!!

So after Kazuya gets dumped, he ends up on a website and before you know it, he’s made arrangements to go on a date with a rented girlfriend! Yes, these are very much a thing. You can go to a website and pay a woman to go on a date with you. Apparently, Japan has a lot of these services and it does get a little ewwie with it so I’m gonna move on with the synopsis.

The girl he ends up going out with is named Chizuru Ichinose. The first date seemed to be going well, but Kazuya felt off by this girl. He just thought Chizuru was just playing with her clients hearts, plus he’s still a little heart-broken from his previous girlfriend, so he gives her a bad review. So when they go on their second date, Chizuru’s cutesy, sweet act is replaced with someone who is tempermental and sassy.

Just then, Kazuya gets word his grandmother collapsed!

I know it’s weird in the synopsis, but just go with it!

With word of his grandmother in the hospital, Kazuya ends up taking Chizuru to the hospital with him. Turns out Kazuya’s family jumped to the obvious conclusion that this girl is his girlfriend and they went nuts. Mostly at the fact that their son actually got a cute girlfriend! Add another layer of WTF to this cake, Chizuru’s grandmother is in this exact, same hospital as Kazuya’s grandmother. And both ladies are over the moon that these two are dating (even though that’s far from the truth). Chizuru hasn’t even told her family that she’s working at Rent-a-Waifu! Well, let’s just break things off and let the family down easy.

Oh, look! They both go to the same university. Oh look! They’re also next door neighbors. I smell shenanigans!

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: At this moment, the only one streaming this series is Crunchyroll. A few weeks into the premier, Crunchyroll started airing a dub. As for the sub, this is my first time really listening to the main lead’s seiyuu, Shun Horie. But the rest of the cast has a nice mixture of memorable voices like Aoi Yuuki, Rie Takahashi, Sora Amamiya, Gakuto Kajiwara…oh fuck!

DAMMIT ASTA, STOP HAUNTING MY EAR-DRUMS!

As for the dub, Crunchyroll is currently publishing an episode once a week. The dub is just okay in my opinion, really nothing to write home about. The only thing I can say is that Aleks Le did a fairly-decent job voicing Kazuya. After voicing Zenitsu last year, he’s got a knack for voicing wimpy twats. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

JAPANESE CAST: *Kazuya is played by Shun Horie

*Chizuru is played by Sora Amamiya (known for Toka on Tokyo Ghoul, Aqua on Konosuba, Miia on Monster Musume, Akame on Akame ga Kill, Elizabeth on Seven Deadly Sins, and Yachiyo on Magia Record)

*Mami is played by Aoi Yuuki (known for Iris on Pokemon BW, Madoka on Madoka Magica, Kayo on ERASED, Yuuki on SAO II, Tatsumaki on One Punch Man, Tamaki on Fire Force, and Kinako on Inazuma Eleven GO)

*Ruka is played by Nao Touyama (known for Chitoge on Nisekoi, Koga on Bunny Girl Senpai, Nii on Blue Exorcist, Akira on Kono Oto Tomare, Momo onAi Tenchi Muyo

ENGLISH CAST: *Kazuya is played by Aleks Le (known for Zenitsu on Demon Slayer and Ake on Shield Hero)

*Chizuru is played by Lizzie Freeman (known for Cardinal on SAO: Alicization, Iwanaga on In/Spectre, Trish on Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Pt. 5, and Felicia on Magia Record)

*Mami is played by Laura Stahl (known for Ray on The Promised Neverland)

*Ruka is played by Sarah Williams (known for Sayaka on Madoka Magica, Felix on Re:Zero, Nonon on Kill la Kill, Mirai on Boruto, Lisbeth on SAO, and Puck on Berserk 2016)

DISLIKED CHARACTER: And now, a poem…

Roses are red Mami’s a cunt…

That’s the poem.

SHIPPING: I can honestly say I didn’t expect the Rent-a-Girlfriend and the Ex-Bitch to meet each other in the second episode. Even after going on a few dates with Chizuru, Kazuya still finds himself “beating his meat” to the thought of his ex, Mami. Only for the girls to beat your meat to change places just a few episodes later!

Oh yes, it’s that kind of series! Kazuya jacks off quite a bit.

Kazuya x Chizuru: At times it feels like Kazuya is really falling for Chizuru for who she really is and not the façade she puts up as a rental girlfriend. But I guess the number of awkward setups and situations these two have been thrown in throughout the series can do that to Kazuya. I mean, how else do you expect Kazuya jacking it off to Chizuru when he’s trying to think of his ex?! Yeah, he’s lied to his family, Chizuru’s grandmother, and all of his friends about this relationship and this relationship is as fake as a three-dollar bill. But there are a few genuine moments that show these two care for each other. Kazuya was ballsy enough to jump off a moving boat to save Chizuru when she fell overboard. And Kazuya felt concerned when Chizuru was thinking about leaving the rental girlfriend profession. Though that could be Kazuya being a pathetic sack of shit and wanting to continue this farce relationship and paying a girl for some attention! It’s so hard to say something kind about Kazuya wanting this relationship to work. But for what it’s worth, I like the farce ship better than the next thing I’m going to speak about.

Kazuya x Mami: I don’t like this bitch and I hate this ship. From the get-go you go in hating this succubus. And when we see her again in episode 2, bitches be bitches! Getting drunk in a public setting and making fun of Kazuya not being man enough for her (in the sexual sense). Then, we get Mami trying to go home with Kazuya when Chizuru is gone. But we don’t stop there, she’s trying at every opportunity to make Kazuya drop everything and fall in love with her again. She’s the one that dumped him, but can’t stand seeing Kazuya with anyone else (no matter the awkward circumstances). It’s clear that Mami has severe jealousy issues. I mean, Chizuru is prettier and nicer than Mami. Meanwhile, Mami is a manipulative scum-wad with the charm of a poisonous snake.

Kazuya x Ruka: Ruka was a rental girlfriend from a different agency and was on a double date with Kazuya, Chizuru, and Kazuya’s idiot friend that sounds like Asta. But due to several misunderstandings between Kazuya and Ruka, turns out Kazuya is the only man to get her heart rate up. So Ruka cuts ties with the idiot friend who hired her and has set sights on Kazuya. And she will fight for her man no matter what. She’s even ballsy enough to interrupt Kazuya’s family celebration of New Years by coming in like an asteroid to fuck things up. At this point in the series, Kazuya’s grandmother is dead-set on him marrying Chizuru. Any other girl is shit compared to her! But Ruka will continue to do her thing. Even applying to the same job that Kazuya works at!

Kazuya x Sumi! You expect me to say something about this? They had one bleeping date! And she’s barely seen outside of the opening and ending themes. If there’s more interactions in season two, holla back at me because this ain’t happening. Although, I’ll support the fuck out of this ship over Kazuya x Mami!

BIG SIMPIN’: So being an older millennial (or X-ennial as I’m currently classified under), I am not hip to the lingo of these youngins. Because of Kazuya, the internet uproared by calling him a phrase known as a “simp”. Well, I don’t want to seem like some out-of-touch boomer. So I’m just going to look up this “simp” term and see if this is legitimate. Let’s see what the Slang-tionary says.

“Simp is a slang insult for men who are seen as too attentive and submissive to women, especially out of a failed hope of winning some entitled sexual attention or activity from them.”

Okay. I think it’s time for the rap interlude of this review.

I don't know what you heard about him But a bitch will get every dollar out of him No cherry-poppin’ as you can see That he’s a motherfucking S-I-M-P

ENDING: Being a rental girlfriend isn’t something Chizuru wants to do, but this gives her practice in what she really wants to do, which is become an actor. And as of recently, Chizuru has been thinking about quitting the rental girlfriend agency. So what would happen if Chizuru quit being a rental girlfriend? That’s a question for another day and another season!

So only a few people have learned about Kazuya and Chizuru’s relationship being the most complicated farce in anime history. Halfway into the series with Ruka’s introduction, she caught on about Chizuru being a rental girlfriend. And because of that incident, Kazuya decided to come clean to his idiot friend, Shun. When Shun hired Ruka to be his rental girlfriend, dude was on top of the world. But when Ruka exposed what he did in front of Kazuya, Shun got severely depressed. Kazuya decides to pay for Chizuru to take Shun out on a date. That’s when Shun finds out that Kazuya hired Chizuru after Mami dumped him.

You know what? I have to spring this up! How long did you think Kazuya was going to hide the rental girlfriend thing to his friends? He’s friends with a bunch of stinkin’ virgins. Lonely, stinkin’ virgins! Plus, if Chizuru is rated #1 on a Google search for top rental girlfriends (as it was established in episode 10), I’m surprised no one else caught on, including the grandmothers. Kazuya’s grandmother is constantly playing on her smart phone. Shun is on the internet all the time. I’m surprised there isn’t an annoying pop-up ad in Japanese Google that would flash at them at any point saying, “Meet legal Japanese chicks in your area” redirecting them to the rental girlfriend website. Followed by giving you a gnarly computer virus!

Well, we’re 10 episodes in a 12 episode series. Why not finally introduce the fourth girl that we’ve been seeing in the opening and ending themes all season?! Chizuru asked Kazuya for a favor to go out with the new rental girlfriend at the agency to help boost her confidence. Enter, Sumi! The best way to describe this silent, moe-blob is a less busty version of Mikuru Asahina. Kazuya and Sumi’s date went over somewhat okay. Kazuya saved Sumi from a bunch of thugs. And while Sumi was silent throughout the entire date, she managed to squeak out a thank you at the end. So not a bad date, right?

Unfortunately, during the date, Mami saw them and trailed them. And it went down just as you would imagine! Mami confronts Kazuya, Kazuya comes up with some bullshit lie to Mami, Sumi is still silent, and Mami is up to no good after she leaves.

Because Mami learned Sumi’s full name, she went to the internet to find a profile or something on a social network. That’s when Mami learned that not only Sumi was a rental girlfriend, but Chizuru as well. It’s not so bad that Shun knows about Chizuru, but if Mami finds out, game over. Game over, Kazuya! So what happens next?

Mami catfished Chizuru by calling her out for a date using the rental girlfriend website! Then they go to the karaoke bar Kazuya works at for their “date”.

GAME OVER KAZUYA! GAME OVER! You lost all 5 lives. Please return to world 1 and may God have mercy on your simpin’ ass!

Kazuya watched their date from a distance (and this time he didn’t get caught eavesdropping like the last time he followed Chizuru). And after a cute mention of the singers to the opening and ending theme to the series, Mami and Chizuru end their date with an exchanging of words. All this proved is that Mami is still a jealous bitch with a dead look in her eyes and Chizuru likes Kazuya. We think! Either Chizuru meant what she said to Mami or she’s a really good actress. When Chizuru came back to the apartment complex, Kazuya met her outside and thanked her for what she said to Mami followed by a confession.

Ah yes, a confession of love! As the credits roll, we see flashbacks of the past 12 episodes and end the series on a cute note and a possible opening to an OVA and we can end from…

Oh wait, there’s more!

Kazuya says he wants Chizuru to continue being his rental girlfriend. Because he knows she’s planning on quitting the rental girlfriend business! So he smooths that over! Both played this off with a wary poker face, but behind closed doors, they are sweating bullets.

OH, and season two has been green-lit. Fabulous!

This anime was addicting to watch. I don’t know if it was as addicting as Uzaki-chan. Then again, I picked to watch Rent-a-Girlfriend over Uzaki-chan. But this was an addicting train-wreck! Watching this dumbass try to fool his family and friends that he really was able to get a cute girlfriend for a full year! How the hell could anyone fall for that mess? People still watched this dumpster fire of a relationship right, so why bitch about the stupidity of Simpy McSimperson over here? I am glad we’re getting a second season because we really didn’t get a chance to see much of Sumi. I know she’s no contender when you put her next to the great Chizuru, but good golly, give this girl some screentime aside from the one episode she got. They made her seem like she was going to be a big player in this anime, but only getting a bit role. I also want to see if Mami is going to redeem herself from the cunt we saw since 18 seconds into the series. I seriously doubt it, but it just gives me more reason to cuss at the computer, calling her every horrible name in the book. And as for Ruka…there’s nothing to say. She’s just gonna be second best no matter what the fuck happens.

As addicting as this anime was, I can’t ignore how many times I had to facepalm at every, stupid action done by Kazuya. I mean, several times per episode, butt-for-brains does something stupid that makes us say, “Dude, WTF” or “Bruh”. Lying to your family, lying to your friends, giving a bad review to your rental girlfriend for giving you great service, jacking it to your ex when you’re clearly hot for Chizuru, following a guy around because he spends the day with Chizuru, and it just goes on and on! You want to root for this twerp in hopes he gets the girl of his dreams in the end, but at the same time, you’re like, “This guy is a total dink.”

Oh, let’s see what season two has to offer…whenever that comes.

In the meantime, if you’d like to check out Rent-A-Girlfriend, Crunchyroll has all 12 episodes available in both sub and dub.

#anime review #rent a girlfriend #kanojo okarishimasu #kazuya kinoshita #chizuru ichinose #mami nanami #ruka sarashina #sumi sakurasawa

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