#it's time to stop throwing tantrums and start filtering the stuff you see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obae-me · 4 years

Note

Hi sweetheart! I was wondering if I could request for a headcannon about Solomon casting a spell and suddenly all the brothers turn into lil smol kids? and how would MC take care of/interact with them? I just neeeeeed some fluff in my life, and the idea of tiny demons makes my heart explode. hope you have a great week! ♥️

Hi, thank you for this request, I had to write it immediately. The fluff, the softness, it’s exactly what I needed to write today, I hope this is good fluff for you! 💜

There’s a bit of exposition because I had some strong creativity for it, after it is the Headcanons!

“So what exactly is this supposed to do again?” MC asked, watching as Solomon sprinkled some strange herbs and unknown ingredients into a large glass beaker, occasionally muttering a few words and casting spells while the mixture sparkled. They were both in MC’s room, Solomon teaching them some spells and magic in exchange for some quality time together.

“It’s a youth potion,” Solomon explained. “I used to make it for other humans. The elderly used my diluted versions to help with pain or memory. However…” He dumped an entire jar of some sort of sickly pulsating liquid that had the same rainbowy shimmer that spilled oil had. “Demons don’t typically age the same way humans do, so sometimes they ask me for this so they can blend in with children. However, diluted versions won’t affect anything down here. So be careful. One wrong drop on you and it won’t be pleasant.” He watched as the contents in the container started to condense and squeeze through a tube before landing in a little glass bottle. Solomon tightly shoved a cork into it’s opening and then closed his eyes, chanting a spell. What had been a gross metallic color was now a perfect clear concoction, little sparkling bubbles endlessly fizzing throughout. “And there you have it.” He smirked, flipping the bottle in the air before catching it perfectly, putting it in one of his pants pockets. With a wave of his hand, all of his stuff that he had used to make the potion vanished.

MC shook their head. “This wasn’t exactly what I thought we would be doing when you said you were going to come over and show me magic. I’d lie if I said it wasn’t cool, though.” They went over and opened their bedroom door, Solomon following them out into the hallway. “Can I come deliver it with you?”

“You know how dangerous my drop-offs can be, can you show me that you’ve perfected that defensive spell I taught you last week?” Solomon looked down at them with a smile, hand curled around his chin. MC sighed, they weren’t even nearly close to casting that spell well, much less perfectly. Solomon apologized with a laugh as they both headed down the stairs to the front entrance.

“Oi, you done fooling around with MC yet?” They both saw Mammon leaned against the wall as he watched the stairs, a scowl on his face. Ever since the sorcerer had been coming more often to see MC, Mammon had been much more hostile towards him. Solomon didn’t mind, in fact he got a rise out of seeing Mammon get so jealous.

“Yes, Mammon, I’m just about to leave.”

Mammon grinned and swung the doors wide open, gesturing for Solomon to get out. “Great, here’s the door, bye now!”

Solomon looked at MC with a smile, bringing them close into a hug, squinting at Mammon over their shoulder as he soaked in the look Mammon had on his face. He pulled apart and MC was none the wiser on their interaction behind their back. “Wish me luck with the drop-off.”

MC exclaimed to him how they wished him all the luck in the three realms, and Mammon moved out of his way to personally bump shoulders with Solomon as he made his way out the door. Neither of the humans had noticed Mammon’s pickpocketing skills as he slipped an important small bottle into his own pocket.

***

“Is there any particular reason why you’re not eating?” Lucifer questioned, watching MC play with their food instead of eating it.

MC snapped out of a little daze, bringing a halt to shoving around their meal with their fork. “Ah, oh, I guess I’m just thinking about something.”

Mammon growled. “What you don’t want to taste the food I slaved over making for everyone today?” He opened his mouth, probably to say something snarky about Solomon, but Satan interrupted him.

“Speaking of what you made, what did you put in it? It’s making me awfully nostalgic. I can’t help but think of meals from centuries ago.” He said it with a slight smile on his face. All of the brothers minus Lucifer voiced their agreement. Whatever it was, it brought back sweet memories, some of them going back and forth between stories of what being first created was like. MC leaned back in their chair, trying to comprehend what it would be like to just...exist fully without having to go through childhood.

Mammon grinned, one hand on his hips. “See I knew it would be great, and it’s all thanks to my genius.” He pulled something out of his pocket, holding it between his fingers as he waved it around in the air. “I knew whatever that sketchy sorcerer had on him had to be good.” MC’s body froze, eyes focused on the bottle Mammon possessed, the same size and style of the one Solomon had put in his pocket. The only difference was the contents were missing.

MC opened their mouth, ready to demand that everyone stop eating, but unfortunately it was already too late. The only thing Mammon had done perfectly was time his reveal right before the potion went into effect, all the brothers bowling over and collapsing to the ground. Their clothes and bodies magically shifting into miniature versions of themselves.

Lucifer

He was the first to get up, taking in the now larger scale of everything around him. Noticing especially how MC was on their knees beside him and yet was at the same height level. He felt the lungs in his chest tighten, now looking at his younger brothers, who...were now all exceptionally young. All looking like humans did at around the age of five. He screamed Mammon’s name, but cut himself off short when he heard what his voice sounded like now, his small hands cupping his own throat. He looked at MC once more, seeing the reflection of his child-like body in their eyes. His pride might as well have been shattered on the ground. Before he was seen in this embarrassing state any further, he sped off to his room.

He did his best to prevent MC from following him into his bedroom by leaning into the door with his own body. He was even more crushed to find not only did he not have most of his power, but he was extremely weak and vulnerable. Not to mention he was feeling raw emotions. He would control himself, he had to control himself. When MC came into the room they saw him standing there with his best attempt at a death glare, arms folded across his tiny red vest.

It didn’t do nearly what he wanted it to. MC saw the small Lucifer, his usually sharp-edged face now covered in soft curves, his piercing eyes now hidden behind floppy hair too big for his head. He didn’t even seem to realise his lips were in a strong pout. MC almost felt like crying looking at him, and they stifled a laugh.

Being laughed at was the final cut at his pride already barely hanging on by a flimsy string. This form he had now was unable to control emotions like his typical body could. Big tears started rolling down his face as he ran towards MC, his only thought being comfort.

“Don’t laugh at me! Change me back!” He wailed. MC scooped him up in their arms, apologizing deeply about laughing. They pet his small head, feeling two nubs poking out from under his hair where he usually had his horns when he was in demon form. Once he let all of his emotions out, he dried his own eyes and calmed down.

His new state didn’t keep him from being any less bossy, standing there, barely up to MC’s waist, head held high as he continued to try to tell MC and his brothers what to do. He didn’t like having MC be the head of the house, at all, even though they now had to take care of all of them. If MC has to tell him to stop hitting Mammon or go to bed, he’ll usually throw a tantrum. He will not be told what to do, he’s not a child, he’s not! MC takes this time to give the Prideful First-born Demon a scolding, and after the first few times he’s forced to sit in timeout, he begrudgingly obeys MC for the rest of the curse.

He’ll do his best as the older brother to help MC take care of everyone, but he’ll end up being one of the most needy. He’ll follow MC around, copying them, doing exactly what they’re doing. If MC tells one of the brothers to do something, he’ll repeat them, doing the same gesture in order to regain a more authoritative status. He likes to also stand on tables and chairs, he needs to be above everyone.

Until he’s back to normal, MC puts him to bed at the same time every night, helping him change into smaller versions of his PJ's (delivered thanks to Diavolo). The only way he can fall asleep is if MC sings old lullabies he hasn’t heard in millennia.

Mammon

When he woke up, he didn’t really comprehend the new change in his form. He was blind to the fact that he had accidentally turned himself and his brothers into children. He still wasn’t done feeling angry about Solomon, being greedy over who MC spends their time with. When he saw MC, he strutted up to them, not understanding that MC now towered over him. He put his hands on his hips, chewing MC out for hanging out with the sorcerer. His filter in his childish state was even worse, almost nonexistent, and he called Solomon by words that should not be coming out of any tiny mouth.

“Mammon!”

Hearing that almost degrading stern tone coming from MC made him stop in his tracks. He tilted his head back to look up at them. Since when did he have to look up that much? Since when had the furniture in his home been so big? He looked around at the other little chaotic bodies in the room, finally connecting that the little tykes were his brothers. He grabbed the bottom of MC’s shirt.

“What did Solomon do to us?!”

“Solomon didn’t do anything, did you steal his potion?” MC had their arms folded like a much too familiar older brother of his, looking at him with a frown. They sounded...disappointed. He started to blink away moisture he didn’t comprehend was tears. MC had to repeat themselves. “Mammon, did you steal from Solomon, yes or no?” He stuttered out a quiet yes, looking down at the floor.

MC rubbed the sides of his little arms and turned him around to look at the rest of his siblings who seemed to be waiting. Most of them looked angry, ready to beat Mammon down with their tiny fists, but MC ordered them all to stay there and listen. If it weren’t for the fact that somehow now MC seemed much scarier, they wouldn't be obedient. MC told Mammon to apologize to them since he got them all in this predicament in the first place. He stood there for a long time, doing his best to bribe his way out of the situation, but MC wouldn’t budge. When he finally said his sorries, he did so with a waterfall of tears, turning and crying into MC’s leg, explaining that he only did this because he didn’t want Solomon to steal MC away anymore.

During the time they’re all affected, MC realizes exactly why Lucifer is always so hard on Mammon. He just never stops. He’s a ball of energy, always getting into something, always leaving a mess wherever he goes. MC has their hands full just keeping up with him.

He never wants to share toys with his brothers, and MC oftentimes has to get everyone something of their own so Mammon doesn’t steal. He also somehow got into MCs phone and used their information to buy several things off of Akuzon. MC punished him by locking away all his toys. It didn’t last long, however, because Mammon kept whimpering, fluttering his long eyelashes over his big shimmering gold-speckled eyes. He’d endlessly call MC’s name over and over again, cuddling into them and begging for his stuff back. Just his soft adorable face alone could get MC to give him anything he wanted.

Mammon is always with MC, and he’ll get angry over anyone who wants to play with them. He wanted them! He did! The only reason why this happened was because he wanted to be with them. So he didn’t want anyone else around.

MC puts him to sleep by rubbing his back over his little fragile wings and sings sleepy songs about the stuff they’ll buy for him.

Levi

He was absolutely mortified. It took him awhile just to get to his feet, he was shaking so badly with embarrassment. As if he wasn’t already self conscious enough, now he was...he was. He snuck away and hid while MC was distracted with his six other insane brothers. He didn’t want to be like that, he didn’t want to be a bother. He didn’t want to be a needy child! And yet he could feel his tiny body filled with Envy. The way MC was holding, coddling, and taking care of everyone else, why weren’t they doing that for him?

When MC went looking for him, they followed the sound of small sniffles. It wouldn’t have been hard to find him anyway, since his big hiding place was in the comfort of his room. He was huddled under his gaming desk, clutching a Ruri-chan plushie to his cheek, speckled in his tears. When MC called his name he scattered to another corner of his room, pulling his tiny hood over his tiny face. He wanted to get into his tub-bed, but he couldn’t even pull himself in.

“Levi, do you want to tell me why you’re upset?”

He shook his head vigorously, managing to make himself seem so small he was hidden behind the plushie he was gripping. He didn’t seem to want to speak so MC had to play the guessing game. He wasn’t upset over Mammon, he wasn’t upset at anyone else, and then when MC asked if he was upset about himself, he got real quiet. MC consoled him by telling him this was a temporary setback, something akin to the shows he watches. It was just a filler episode, not a major plot point, so he had nothing to worry about. Normally this would’ve helped cheer him up just fine, but it wasn’t enough, so MC had to bribe him out of hiding by telling him they would watch all the shows he wanted until he was better.

When he came out, he rushed to them, burying his face in their clothes and cried so hard he gave himself the hiccups. MC was confused, thinking that they were trying their best to convince him to feel better, not to sob. MC did their best to make him feel better, rocking back and forth with him in their arms, rubbing his back, even turning on his consoles so he could play. He only felt satisfied when he thought he was getting the same amount of attention his brothers were getting.

He’s the biggest crybaby and the epitome of the “it’s not fair” child. If Mammon has more toys than him, he’s going to cry. If MC tells him he has to go to his room, he’s going to cry. If Beel ends up eating some of his food, yep, he’s going to cry. MC has a panic attack over how dehydrated this kid is going to be and has to constantly give him water to drink.

The only time he’s relatively happy is when MC has him in their lap as they hang out in his room, playing a game or watching a show. The best way to get him to sleep is to put on a documentary. Puts him out like a light.

Satan

When he woke up, it was like all hell had broken loose, and that could mean either figuratively or literally at this point. He was a tiny ball of rage. No later than five seconds of consciousness before he was on top of Mammon ready to kill him for turning them all to kids. He was definitely that kid who solved problems with fights. MC had to quickly rush over and pick him up only to have Satan kicking, punching, and screaming. He flailed in their arms, and MC had to drag him into a private room to quickly get things straight.

“I know this is inconvenient, and I know you’re angry, but no kicking, no punching, I don’t want to see you lay a hand on anyone, understand?”

He did understand, logically, but no matter what he tried telling his brain, his body didn’t want to follow. Even as his normal self it was hard keeping all that anger under control, and now as this...this...thing he was, all he wanted to do was scream. So scream he did, he shrieked for hours, MC doing their best to keep him safe as he tore up and almost destroyed his own room. He yelled so loudly for so long he lost his voice, resorting then to something he didn’t know was an option. Angry tears.

He took the bottom of his small green shirt and balled it up in his hands, looking confused as wet drops fell from his face. His voice now gone, all that was left was squeaks as his tiny frame started to shudder. He let MC hold him tight as he cried, scrunching up the fabric of their clothes tightly as all the pent up emotion he usually kept inside him had no choice but to keep flooding out of his eyes. MC shushed him, trying to tell him that this was an experience that would benefit his education and curiosity.

It took him a long long time to calm down, but when he did, his demeanor was similar to the one MC was most used to, the quiet curious Satan. Occasionally MC did have to keep him from losing his temper, doing their best to not have to scream at the small demon for having knives or breaking things. But most of the time he read books, books that were too big for his now smaller hands to hold. He either had the book wide open in his lap, or he had MC hold it for him as he sat in their lap. MC adored how he would tilt his head back against their chest, looking at them while politely asking them to turn the page. On the rare occasion, sometimes MC would find Satan outside, using a stick to pick at bugs in the dirt, watching how they move. They would’ve almost found it cute till they realized he was using them to fight to the death. MC monitors him anytime he’s outside now.

He’s the hardest to get to sleep, he’s always asking MC endless questions. MC is never sure if he’s testing their knowledge or asking them in earnest. Either way, it’s always way too late in the night for wondering what the world would be like if giraffes were as popular as a common household cat. He always needs a warm hot chocolate, a boring book, and MC’s angelic patience before he’ll finally drift to sleep.

Asmo

When he regains consciousness and looks at himself in the mirror after the event, he cannot get over how adorable he is. He looks so squeezable and huggable. But then...he feels...hollow? While all the other sins are things that are easily available as kids, his...is gone. He’s missing those...adult urges he’s so used to feeling. His normal burning desire, his flirtation, his charm, all vanished along with his adult appearance. He almost takes this harder than Lucifer. He’s not sure how to act, how to feel, his whole life in the Devildom was driven around his core sin.

MC is infinitely concerned when Asmo doesn’t smile, doesn’t speak, doesn’t know how to, well, how to do anything. They do their best to cheer him up with the other things he loves. They dress him up in adorable clothes, they pet his head and tell him how cute he is, but this is enormously hard for him. The typically boisterous Asmo was now nonchalant.

It takes a while for MC to convince him that he is Asmo, he is not his sin. He might be more easily persuaded by it, but that’s not all there is to him. They hold his whole tiny face in their hands, thumbs rubbing his wet cheeks dry. They tell him they miss his bubbly nature, his cute voice, his endless compliments, his sweet disposition. They want Asmo back. This little speech with added cuddles brings Asmo back for the most part.

He’s the sweetest little kid MC has ever met. He’s always cheering his brothers up, pulling off doll fashion shows, and making sure MC feels appreciated. He wants to be in their arms almost 24/7, wanting to be carted around if MC can manage. This whole experience causes him to feel something in his chest that makes him feel a kind of warm and fuzzy that he’s never felt before. It’s not lust...but something sweeter, more innocent and he’s not sure what to call it.

MC almost was going to reward him for being the best kid in the household till they spent hours helping him get clean after he did his best to do a spectacular makeover. He was unaware of how hard it was to maneuver these bodies, and now his face and room was a mess. MC was just thankful that the mess was on him and he didn’t attempt to give MC the makeover.

Asmo will only sleep with MC holding him. Something about the cold darkness of his room when he’s alone makes him panic. He likes being able to feel comforted, hearing MC’s heartbeat while they work on smothering him in adorable chaste kisses, his little giggles adorably addicting. That same warm feeling in his heart letting him feel comfortable enough to shut his eyes and get some rest.

Beel

He woke up holding onto Belphie’s hand only to find that the hand he was holding was much smaller than he remembered. Upon further discovery, all of Belphie was much smaller than he remembered. It takes him a few minutes to connect the dots since he was getting distracted on the food still on the dinner table, but once he figures it out, he just blinks. He’s the only one fairly calm about it. Sure he’s upset, but he likes to be an optimist, and by being this small, all his portions of food are all that much bigger.

His size does end up being an inconvenience for him, though. Most of his favorite snacks are high on the shelves in hard to reach cupboards. Not to mention now MC refuses to let him near the stove, so he can’t cook himself anything. He eats more than any human child should and yet he feels like he’s starving.

He can’t help but run to MC and softly beg for more snacks, gently tugging on their clothes. Most of the time, MC obliges, petting his soft red hair while he eats his food and lets his legs dangle off the edge of his seat. Until he starts letting his gluttony take over and steals his sibling’s snacks.

MC tried punishing him by taking away dessert privileges that night, not knowing what kind of monster they unleashed when they told him no. His shining eyes went darker, and the best mannered kid MC knew went sour in a heartbeat. He threw a massive demonic tantrum, screaming, throwing food and plates, causing MC to break down and give him what he wanted, drying his tears with an exasperated sigh while they now had to clean up broken glass and wipe down the entire kitchen.

He was the easiest to take care of in every other aspect, though, as long as he wasn’t denied food. He’d help MC and Lucifer watch his brothers, breaking up fights and comforting them when they cry. He would squeeze each of them tightly, as supportive as ever. He would even still do his best to protect MC in his state. Even as tiny as he was he still put his whole body into his hugs, acting like MC wasn’t now twice the size he was. He would clean up his messes without MC having to ask, and he’d go to bed as long as he had a bedtime snack and a glass of warm milk. He’d insist on tucking Belphie into bed, and then sweetly wish MC goodnight.

Belphie

He took forever to wake up, almost giving MC a heart attack wondering if he had been put into some sort of infantile coma. He eventually got up, opening his eyes to himself in MC’s arms. He wasn’t going to complain, they were very comfortable. When he realized he now resembled a small child...he was too tired to complain. He never did anything different from his normal form anyway. Sleep, eat if he needed to, be highly slothful and irritated. He was so similar to his usual mood, it amused MC greatly. They didn’t want to say that this meant he was always a baby but...the facts were right in front of them.

Adult, child, it didn’t matter, he was going to be monotone, demanding, and sleep as much as possible. In fact, now that he didn’t have responsibilities and Lucifer breathing down his neck, he was sleeping more than usual, and he demanded that MC carry him. If he was awake and MC ever put him down, he would cry until he got picked back up, comfortably against MC’s hip, face nestled in MC’s neck. It makes it so much harder for MC to get stuff done, but they can’t give up the feeling of his little eyelashes and bangs brushing against their skin, the smallest hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. Plus, if they do anything he doesn’t like, he’ll pull on their hair, so it's best to keep him happy.

The first night they had changed, MC put Belphie in his own bed, tucked him in and wished him sweet dreams, and once they were sure all the brothers were asleep, they went to their room and went to bed for the night, absolutely exhausted. Not even an hour after they went to bed, they felt a large weight on their body. They opened their eyes and saw Belphie, his skin shining in the moonlight from tears.

“Bad dream?”

He nodded, making a small sniffling noise. MC lifted up the blankets, letting him crawl in. He got close to them, keeping the fabric of their pajamas in a death grip. MC put their arm around him, making him feel safe and sleepy. He dried his tears and shut his eyes, not having any nightmares during the night.

Only, now, he won’t go to sleep in his own bed, it has to be with MC. Of course, this makes all the brothers jealous, and so after one night of some semblance of peace is resulted in seven little demon brothers all bundled up close together, each needy for MC’s warmth and attention.

After

It was an entire week before Solomon came back with the completed antidote for the potion. It tasted disgusting, and MC and Solomon had to wrangle all the demons, holding them down to get them to take it. It was surprising after all their frustration towards their position that they would be hesitant to return to normal.

After they’re back in their normal bodies, each of them are as red as tomatoes, looking at the floor instead of MC’s face. None of them will mention what happened, even if MC tries to tease them about it, they act like they have amnesia. None of them remember all the photos that MC had taken of them, nor do they know about all the ones they’ve shared to Diavolo.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

1K notes · View notes

dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Lost Boys: A Thousand Words

Star x Reader

Word Count: 1,340

Summary: Reader spots Star through a camera lens and can’t look away.

One of the most important things to consider in photography was lighting. Without good lighting, the photo might not turn out, no matter how interesting the composition was.

That could become even more complicated if you decided to shoot at night, but in a bright place, like the boardwalk, it wasn’t an issue. Everything was still lit up to max capacity. The stores all had their lights on, the rides blinked and flashed their colored bulbs, not to mention the lamp posts that were incrementally placed throughout the amusement park.

You were working on a photography class portfolio and decided to center your theme on emotions. It was easy to pick the boardwalk as one of the settings.

Tons of people, tons of emotion ripe for capturing. And going at night would open up possibilities for different lighting.

Different from the stuff you normally shot during day anyhow.

The flash went off with a noticeable click, some people giving you a wide berth. A group of girls had just come off of the tilt-a-whirl with messy hair and exuberant faces. It could make a good addition to your portfolio.

You’d been at it for about ninety minutes and had already used up a roll of film. The one currently in the camera might have to be swapped out soon; you had already taken quite a few.

Camera slung around your neck, you wandered down towards the t shirt shops.

It was best not to stay in one place the whole time. You had been doing photography long enough to know that people got antsy, suspicious even, when someone kept continuously taking pictures in one spot. Like they were worried about being under surveillance or something.

Photography was a comfort to you. As a kid, you had trouble connecting with other people. You were a ‘weirdo’ so to speak. But when you tried photography, it clicked with you and you’d been doing it ever since.

Peering through the lens, you saw a toddler throwing a tantrum with a popsicle dripping down their chubby fingers. Maybe not the most flattering shot but not all emotions were positive ones.

Your finger hovered over the shutter button but before you could take the picture, someone else came into the shot, blocking your view.

At first, you were mildly annoyed. Until you got a good look at the newcomer.

She was…mesmerizing.

If it weren’t so sappy, you’d say ethereal. Even angelic. But that was ridiculous—you’d only just seen her. Didn’t know her at all outside of the lens of the camera. You frequented the boardwalk enough but had never seen her around.

She was a great subject though. Despite it being nighttime her skin positively glowed. Her riotous curls were wild and thick. Her cheeks looked soft, her chin delicate.

You took a photo on instinct, the flash going off.

The flash was its usual brilliance but it wasn’t particularly loud. It should have been drowned out, especially since it was so crowded at the boardwalk at that time of the night. Still, she turned and looked you directly.

You stopped breathing, your lungs frozen. And then she started walking towards you.

Suddenly, you couldn’t stop breathing, your chest hitching in panic as your blood pressure rose. Was she going to yell to you? Talk to you? God. You didn’t think you were prepared for that.

“Hi,” she smiled stopping right in front of you. Her bracelets chimed as she tucked a curl behind her ear.

You waved back awkwardly. “Hi.” The camera suddenly felt heavy around your neck.

“So,” she gestured at the camera. “You’re into photography?”

Not wanting to seem even more stupid, you cleared your throat in a herculean effort to say something. Anything.

“Y—yeah. I am. I’m sorry, were you bothered by me taking pictures? Cause I throw that out—”

“No, no. It’s okay. You’ll have to let me know if it turns out.”

You were quick to nod and it didn’t register that she said ‘if’ not ‘when.’ You were still dazed by the fact she was talking to you at all.

“It’s for a portfolio, actually. I’m in a class and this is part of a final project.”

That seemed to interest her judging by her lips curving up. “A portfolio. That’s cool, I like that.”

As she talked, she began walking. The crowds were thick so it was harder to walk side-by-side and she reached back for your hand to pull you along. You trailed after her like a moth to a flame; a pretty accurate description, you thought.

Her fingers were surprisingly cool to the touch and the difference in temperature only made you further tuned into the touch.

She asked more about the photos and you were only too happy to talk now that the ice had been broken. You chatted about your theme, how you liked the soft rings of light, even about the group of boys that had hassled you earlier.

“Wait, what did these boys look like?” There was a worried furrow on her brow.

“Like the normal beach crowd, I guess. A few of them had bleached stripes in their hair, some were shaved down to the scalp. But they didn’t do anything serious, only gave me a hard time before stomping off.”

She hummed, sounding relieved. “Good. That’s good. I’m Star by the way.”

“Star,” you repeated. A pretty name for a pretty girl. And very fitting. “Y/N. Sorry I didn’t give my name earlier.”

The two of you passed the games and continued on to the ferris wheel. There were several benches in the area and she promptly seated you at one, sitting down besides you.

Close enough that her hair blew in your face with the wayward breeze but not so close that it could be construed as…well, something else.

“I think this would be a great place for taking pictures. The ferris wheel isn’t exciting but it is intimate.”

You looked at a group that was coming off the ride and could see what Star meant. They all had a soft, warm look about them. You snapped one and then paused, deliberating. Maybe…

Mind made up, you lifted the strap around your head and passed the camera to her. “Here. Wanna try?”

“Oh. Are you sure? I’m not familiar with these,” she confessed, holding the object carefully, almost as if she were afraid she’d break it.

You easily waved off her concern. “It’ll be fine. Just look through the lens here and press the button on the top when you’re ready to take it.”

Hesitantly, she followed your instructions and raised it eye-level. The flash went off and the whole thing was over in a matter of seconds.

“See? Easy.”

She returned the camera to you with a bright smile, her teeth white. “I can see why you like it. It’s different, looking at people through a filter.”

Heat throbbed in your cheeks. Pretty and perceptive then. Trying to take the attention off of yourself, you told her she could take more, if she wanted.

“Actually,” she handed it over to you again, “I have to meet some people. So I’d better go.”

“Right,” you nodded. She was still cold and it sent tingles up your arms when you accepted the camera. The sensation made up for the disappointment at her leaving. “See you around.”

Her eyes perused you over, not obnoxiously but enough for you to be able to tell. Peering directly at you with a warm expression in her brown eyes, like she had when you first spotted her, she waved her fingers gently and was left without anther word.

You watched her retreating figure for as long as you could but very quickly she disappeared into a mass of faceless people. She had only just left but her feminine scent still lingered in the air. You met briefly, and still knew next to nothing about her, but you were definitely interested.

Maybe she’d come back tomorrow.

You really hoped she did.

_______________

First time ever writing for Star. What even was this? Haha. Just wanted to try something different, hopefully I wasn’t too off with her. Thanks for reading :)

#the lost boys #the lost boys star #star the lost boys #the lost boys star x reader #the lost boys imagines

41 notes · View notes

dappersheep · 3 years

Text

Food Fantasy: An Analysis on what killed a Golden Goose (2/3)

Welcome back. Before we get started, disclaimers again! I do not own the game or its characters, nor do I claim to know the history and future of the game. What I am entitled to are the thoughts and opinions written within this post. You may or may not agree with the points spoken of here. This post also remains untagged from the main foofan tag. Only my followers will see this.

We are now on the second part, so let's go forward under the cut!

Elex

And here we have our beloved global publisher that most of seem to have Stockholm Syndrome for. Don't lie, at least half of us are still playing this damned game due to sunken cost fallacy, sunken time fallacy and the cute/hot jpegs.

In 2018, everything started out fine. Sure, maybe we had some translation mishaps here and there -coughwe'llgettothatwreckagelatercough- but overall, Elex was running the game fairly well. Rewards were on time, we had active social media and support, and a discord was set up!

Hint: Please note I use quite a bit of sarcasm in most everything I say.

And then somewhere along that road, things got derailed. And I mean it like, we're in the midst of a trainwreck in slow motion and we've only cleared the initial collision and still hurtling forward or backward into a steel wreckage ticking inferno.

Problems started cropping up as early as late 2018, just a few months after the game was launched in July.

⦁ Art contest mishaps. You know when you hold an art contest on Facebook out of all places with its shitty tagging system, you're bound to have entries lost to the void, people forced to register an FB account just to participate (seriously, who even has an FB account that isn't just there to appease family members?) and having to wrestle with figuring out how FB's tagging system works. Add to that the panel of judges happen to be Elex staff who don't have a good eye for good artwork (we actually had a kiddy figure drawing win over a well drawn one during the last contest!) and that they ALSO weren't very good at organizing such contests on FB... well, we had several grievances over that.

⦁ Region blocked FB announcements. Strangely enough, I stopped getting announcements around Father's Day of 2019 while everyone else outside of SEA kept getting updates. Turns out that someone on Elex's staff really didn't like SEA players or was just really bad at fixing the settings for the group and never bothered to revert it back. It didn't matter in the long run though, because...

⦁ Abandoned social media platforms. FooFan Twitter, FooFan Facebook... they all floated slowly into the void and was never heard from again. And this was before the 2020 pandemic.

⦁ Remember what I said about Discord? Yeah, apparently, they opened one up a little too early and the staff in charge of it knew zero about how to setup and mod a discord community, and didn't even have the manpower needed to mod the influx of members that came in! Suffice to say, they had to get help from top players and mods from the FB groups to come in and sort things out because someone kept pinging @ everyone every few seconds other than the usual chaos that comes from a server with no filters and people trying to turn the discord into Global Chat 2.0, minus Russian hours.

⦁ Also in line with the point about abandoned social media platforms, they've also mostly abandoned the discord too and only pop in once in a while to check the bug reports or lost accounts. You have a slightly better chance of response with the in-game support. Only slightly. And there's a running joke with several variations on the main discord that the Owner account of the discord server was manned by an intern-kun who never bothered to pass it on to the next unfortunate soul left to maintain this game.

⦁ Favoritism. Funtoy is also guilty of this but they don't publish the game for Global. If you're a top spender the likes of maxing out your cash rebates within the three months or so and you kept spending even beyond that, Elex could possibly invite you to a funky little club where your voice is more important than say... 99% of the playerbase. On top of that, if you keep spending, you could technically also ask for stuff like getting this frame over that frame, or well.... delay certain features from coming to Global for over a year. Now you can simp AND be heard! (Note: In 2021, it's possible that that club may be dead too, as all things shall be)

⦁ SJW Friendly. I don't know if Funtoy themselves have anything to also do with this particular decision... but it's saying something that after a certain little tiddy tantrum from the community side, Elex decided not to announce anything about a certain event's fate and when asked by it by other parties (not me) they either lie through their teeth, or beat around the bush with a non-answer.

⦁ Partial translations, mistranslations. Now, I understand that a lot of Chinese grammar and semantics are confusing to translate properly into several other languages, but you'd think Elex would have given their translators more context to the character or the mechanic to avoid such mistranslations that later set off gender debates or worded the skill/artifact description a little clearer. That is... unless Elex really is hands-off trying to get to know this IP from the start and only gave it the most bare minimum of English where they can cut costs for it, so people can understand it 'well enough' to throw money at an obviously not beta-read quality game.

⦁ No translations. Yes we do have certain parts of the game that are in Chinese since forever since xx patch. Some characters' voiceline texts are still in chinese, especially during the Pledge scenes. More recent artifacts are also in chinese with no announced translation in sight. And don't get me started on the Food Soul bios, or lack thereof.

⦁ Delayed events. Prime example? We had weeks of minor events/no events and still Elex managed to eff everything up for our second Anniversary in July 2020. We ended up getting the Croissant event in late August with barely any apologies and compensation for the delay... and this likely would have never arrived as 'early' as it did if people hadn't been railing about where our Anniversary event was. As it stands, we are several minor events behind CN, at least a year and a half's worth behind. I know Global had requested heavily for more spaced out events (to save resources, not that it actually worked with all the nerfed rewards we get) compared to CN but this is extremely ridiculous.

⦁ Delayed permanent features. Hm... Guild Wars, Sky Tower, Bar, that Wuchang Fish Showdown... several Quality of Life updates.... that new permanent pool update... Food Souls still missing their JP voice packs... Food Soul Bios... *slowly ticking off more than I have fingers and toes*

⦁ Customer Support is whack. You'd be lucky if you got someone who understood your problem/inquiry right off the bat AND did something about it efficiently. You'd be luckier if they answered you honestly if you were inquiring about event updates or other buggy features or reporting hackers.

⦁ The Great Turkey and Apple Incident of 2020. Well, if you were around for that little SNAFU during the Turkey re-run event, you'd know a percentage of people suddenly got logged out of their accounts and had a baller of a time trying to get their accounts back. You were especially unfortunate if you were playing on an iOS account because even if you did bind it (like a responsible player should be doing), you probably still wouldn't get it back in time to rank properly during Turkey. Some Android players also experienced this, but it wasn't as bad as what the iOS players experienced. And then there was the compensation mishap for that too.

⦁ Hacker-chan and not-so-uwu Hacker-teme. Hacker-chan is a meme. Hacker-chan was a harmless player who regularly topped in Top Showdown every week for a time to send a message to Elex just how easy it is to hack the game in certain rankings and invited Elex to ban them every time, just to test how competent Elex is. In the end, Elex has proven to be incompetent and also glaringly stupid about how their published game works. Hacker-teme is a collective of individuals over time who have cheated the game during important ranking events or in somewhat important permanent battles. If you tried to report a Hacker-teme with evidence to prove it -and trust me, people repeatedly have-, Elex would tell you that they're not cheating and/or lie through their teeth that they're 'investigating the case' and then not do anything about it and let them keep their event ranking and thus get the rewards while someone who actually worked hard/whaled hard to get the spot gets denied. In one case, they believe that if an account has rebate points and the player level is at least around level 80, then the hacker-teme is obviously playing the game fairly. Never mind that their units happened to have low to no artifact nodes opened, and not high in ascension.

And that is the end of the Elex saga. I'm aware there's likely more things about Elex that I've missed, but feel free to add on to this analysis post with your own thoughts.

The last part of this trilogy is probably what many of us are waiting for, for obvious reasons.

#ravings of a madman #food fantasy but not tagged right

25 notes · View notes

dabisrightnipple · 3 years

Text

REDAMANCY

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

!!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST AND/OR ADD ONTO!!

Word Count: 3.4k

links

re·da·man·cy /reh-dah-man-cee/ noun An act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full

a/n: As some of y’all can hopefully tell, I just read Deciphered and am having a serious street racing/car phase hehehehe. Also make sure to support my other platforms!!!!

"Ow, what was that for?" you whined looking up at Kuroo, who had just rudely interrupted your daydream by throwing a little punch to your shoulder. You rubbed the affected area before looking up at Kuroo, giving him a pouty face. He rolled his eyes while grabbing onto the tassel on your graduation cap and moving it from the right side to the left.

"Stupid, you weren't paying attention." He softly scolded, throwing you a look of disapproval while making sure to keep his voice as low as possible to not interrupt the ceremony.

"Oops!" You smiled cheekily spewing out a soft light-hearted chuckle. You turned your head to listen to the announcer as he started to count down the second you have left before completing the ceremony.

"Three..."

"Ready?" Kuroo asked while nudging your elbow slightly before grabbing onto your right hand, the other slowly rising to his cap, grabbing onto a corner getting ready to toss it.

"Two..."

"No, hehe."

The crowd went wild, all your senses became heightened as you heard deafening screams of joy, while you looked into the sky seeing a hundred caps, along with yours, being thrown into the air like small fireworks. All those caps carrying the stress school has brought you and many others, you felt the relief shoot through your fingers reaching down to your toes. You stood in your spot for a while, feeling relieved as chaos broke out all around you. Looking over at Kuroo, you cracked a large genuine smile towards him in which Kuroo returned.

Your pent-up excitement decided to finally come out of you causing a scream to erupt out of your throat, Your voice filling your ears, as well as Kuroos' and other bystanders. A wave of adrenaline washed over you as your screaming ceased, causing your throat to burn due to the extensive use of your vocal cords. With the adrenaline coursing through your veins you couldn't help but shake with anticipation of what your future will bring to you.

After all, You finally felt-

Free.

__________________

After the ceremony ended, the crowds started to venture out causing you to lose grip of Kuroos hand resulting in you getting separated and lost in the crowds of people, occasionally bumping into passer-Byers before finally weaving your way out to the parking lot. The moon shined down on you as you walked through the parking lot, dodging cars left and right trying to figure out where Kuroo parked before you felt a considerably large hand grab onto your wrist, pulling your figure back in the process only for your back to land on the mystery person chest.

"YOU IDIOT!" You yelled meeting Kuroos cat-like eyes, still shaking from the adrenaline high and you're now frightened conscious.

"Hey, I was just teaching you a lesson to be more alert." He matter-of-factly said, while making quick hand gestures to accommodate his point.

"Yea yea," You rolled your eyes stomping your feet against the concrete while following Kuroo to the parking spot where his car resided in. "Just open this stupid-ass car so we can go get ramen."

"Yes, Ma'am," Kuroo said, doing a little salute before unlocking the car, showing off his signature shit-eating smirk. You rolled your eyes again in acknowledgment before slipping off your graduation gown and cap, tossing it in the back as Kuroo did the same.

Finally arranging your stuff on the car floor and putting on your seatbelt you turned to look at Kuroo. 'Dayum' You thought, ' He looks like one of those ugly fish things.' You snickered to yourself while Kuroo plugged in his phone to the AUX, glancing up at you before unlocking his phone.

"What so funny?" He asked in a monotonous voice, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled through Spotify trying to find a suitable playlist for the current mood.

"Ohhh, nothing." You smiled to yourself while looking out the passenger window watching other people slowly filter out of the parking lot.

Kuroo shrugged as a response before pressing play on his 'Bad Bitch' playlist and tossing his phone into the cupholder. Immediately after, his right foot pressed down on the clutch, using his left hand to switch the gear into 'R' before placing the same hand on the back of your chair to get a better view while backing out. You watched him shift into first gear as he slowly exited the parking lot, the purr of his car staying steady. After sorting through the mess of cars, he merged onto the main road continuously shifting up and down passing all sorts of cars in order to get to your guys' destination quickly.

You looked out the side window, watching Kuroo drive through the city, flashing neon lights blurring past you. As if the moment wasn't already perfect, 'Boss Bitch' by Doja Cat came on. You and Kuroo shared a small knowing glance as he turned the volume all the way up, bass booming through the busy streets of Tokyo as you both began to scream the lyrics at the top of your lungs. Kuroo started to accelerate even faster, adrenaline pulsating through you guys' veins. You looked over at Kuroo, his eyes fixated onto the road, still singing while he pressed down on the clutch once more, shifting into second gear while turning into a little parking garage located across the street from your destination. Finding the nearest available spot you two hastily jumped out, stomachs taking control of both of your bodies as you two raced across the street trying to get to the little shop as fast as you could, and lucky for you two, there was no one inside.

"Yes!" You breathlessly cheered, taking a moment to crouch down and catch your breath.

"Pfttt, you good?" Kuroo spazzed out laughing at your hunched-over figure, clutching his hands over his stomach in the process.

"Why-huh- quite your - laughing." You panted, breathe coming down your throat cold as ice, burning your esophagus. while your face burned with heat, your cheeks flushing a red color.

"I GOT ASTHMA ASSHOLE!" you shouted, as you weakly punched his shoulder, still trying to get the air into your lungs. Unlike you, Kuroo was the captain of the volleyball team, constantly running laps across the gym, moving back and forth, and jumping. Of course, he didn't trip over his breath or break a sweat. 'GGHrrrR' your stomach decided to wail out as you meekly looked up at him, cheeks reddening even more. Kuroo looked down at you, face laced with amusement at your little tantrum, causing you to playfully punch his shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that! You're hungry too!" You exclaimed, patting down your cheeks to get the redness to go away. Kuroo opened the door for you, but before you could even enter the smell of fresh pork and miso filled your senses, as you entered the warm atmosphere of the small ramen shop you and Kuroo frequented.

"Ah! My favorite regulars, how are you guys?" A sweet middle-aged woman came out from the kitchen. A blob of brown hair sat on top of her head wrinkles pulling at her cheeks, giving you and Kuroo a bright smile.

"Ahh hi, Ms. Sato!" You greeted, Kuroo following with a little wave.

"So what are you two doing out this late at night." She said suggestively wiggling her eyebrows. Ms. Sato has always been under the impression you and Kuroo are dating, based on how close you guys are. No matter how many times you assure her you guys aren't, she still doesn't believe you.

"We actually just graduated, so we came here to celebrate," Kuroo replied.

"Awwww, how fun! Your foods on me tonight, you guys want the usual?"

"Yes, please! Thank you!"

"Of course, you two just sit tight, it'll be ready in a bit." She said, a little jump in her voice as she skipped into the kitchen.

_________________

"Ahh, I'm stuffed!" You exclaimed, sitting back on the bench and holding your stomach as if you had a baby.

"Yeah, I can tell." Kuroo teased, glancing up at you through half-lidded eyes.

"OH SHUT UP!" you exclaimed turning around and hiding your stomach from his view.

"Oh, Kuroo" Ms. Sato cooed, as she made her way over to the table you two were bickering at. "Don't treat your girlfriend like that." You gave her a mini glare, your eyes telling her ' Why would you do that '

"You're right Ms. Sato, I shouldn't be treating my girlfriend like this. Sorry Y/n," Kuroo said, his cat-like eyes starring into your soul as his smile curled up even more.

"See Y/n you can't keep lying to me about your secret relationship forever." Ms. Sato said, eyes also starring at your soul.

"I-But, - Well-I, wait-"

"Aw I think she's getting tired Ms. Sato, I'm gonna take her home," Kuroo said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Ok sweetie, make sure she gets there safe, don't drive too fast." She said, her momma-bear side kicking in.

"Yes, I will" Kuroo reassured as he stacked up your dirty plates while grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you onto his hips. Your brain did stop working, as Kuroo had said. Your words failed you earlier so you decided just to keep your mouth shut and let the embarrassment eat you away.

"Bye, my little love birds!" Ms. Sato

"Bye, Thank you for the meal," Kuroo replied before jumping a bit to re-adjust you further upon his hips.

"I hate you." You murmured in his shirt, as your senses were filled with his cologne and his button-up shirt. You started to fondle with his tie as he walked across the street and entering the parking garage. He carefully set you down on the concrete floor before opening the passenger door to his 2015 re Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. As soon as you sank into the seat, Kuroo shut the door before striding over to the driver's side. You lazily yanked your seatbelt out of the holder and plugged it into the buckle as Kuroo jumped in, the following suit. You watched as he got situated, plugging his phone into the AUX and scrolling through his Spotify. He finally selected a song but instead of tossing his phone into the cup holder, he handed it to you.

"Huh?"

"Put on some music you want, only after this song though," Kuroo said with a genuine smile curling at his lips.

"This is new, You never let me have AUX."

"Consider it a congratulations on graduating." He said.

"But you graduated to- Y'know what nevermind." You said with the most perplexed look dancing across your face. Kuroo let out a deep chuckle while pressing down on the clutch, turning off the E-brake and shifting into reverse. You felt the rumble of the car underneath your feet as he pulled out of the parking spot, quickly slamming onto the clutch once again and shifting into first gear while exiting the parking garage.

"Remember what Ms. Sato said!" You teased, referring to Ms. Satos' request for him to drive slowly.

"Yea yea." His gravelly voice came out slightly exasperated. Kuroo hated driving slow, just like he hated losing volleyball matches. He's one of those guys that has to win at everything, whether it be in the classroom, on the court, or in the street. Instead of looking out the window, you decided to watch Kuroo, how his hands grabbed onto the gear shift, how he revved the car at every stoplight to 'assert' his dominance (at least that's what he thinks of it). Lil Uzi's XO Tour Life came on as he sped through the streets of Tokyo, entering Narima city, where both your houses resided.

"My house tonight?" Kuroo asked, turning down the radio.

"Sure."

"Ya need anything?"

"Nah I think I have stuff over there from last time." Kuroo hummed in response, as he downshifted again, turning into his neighborhood. He stayed in first gear while slowly creeping through the quiet neighborhood, trying to keep his car as quiet as he could. The soft rumble of the car was almost like a lullaby, as it was slowly pulling you to sleep. He parked in the street next to his house, pushing down the E-brake and untwisting his keys from the ignitions, unplugging his phone before looking over at you. Your head was leaning back on the leather headrest, your whole body relaxed. Kuroos' lips pulled into a soft smile as he stared at you ' so beautiful...' he thought before unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out of the car, careful to not slam the door.

He walked with a little hop in his step as he came to open your door, he carefully bent over you to unbuckle your seatbelt. Slowly, he picked you up out of the seat, now holding you bridal style as he walked around the door, closing it with his back and locking it. Now walking towards his front door, he inserted a different key and nudged it open. Using the same technique he did with his car, Kuroo shut the door with his back then mindfully walked upstairs pushed open his door, and laid you on the bed only to be met with your tired eyes.

"Heh, thanks." You croaked, throat facing the punishment of all the yelling and excitement from the hours prior.

"Of course," Kuroo said, a loving tone laced through his words, eyes softening as he got up to shut his door. It surprised you really, you and Kuroo really weren't dating, or at least haven't made it official. I've never even kissed the guy, yet we act like a married couple...' You thought, face scrunching up, as you concentrated on your thoughts ' No wonder Ms. Sato thinks were dating-'

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Kuroo asked

"us." You answered plainly, still half zoned out in thought. Kuroo walked into the closet, picking up two pairs of sweatpants and two shirts.

"What about us?" His voice muffled from the distance.

"Just what Mrs. Sato said, y'know about us dating. I mean we kind of act like we do." You said, watching him walk out of the closet and to one of his dressers.

"Would you wanna date?" His voice sounded a bit guarded as if he were scared of what the next words would be. There was a short pause while he shuffled through his dresser, find a pair of panties you left here.

"Here, my mom washed these from last week."

"Oh, sweet thanks." There's the issue, you two were comfortable with each other. If it was some other guy and girl I'm sure the girl would be screaming right now, but no you two were different, in a good way. You slipped off your dress, completely fine with Kuroo looking, yet he still turned away.

"Haha, why do you still turn away when I get dressed, I told you it was fine remember?" You asked, slipping your bra off and grabbing the black D.A.R.E. shirt Kuroo gave you.

"It just feels wrong I guess." He spoke, voice strained. 'Is he nervous?' You quickly changed your underwear and pulled up the grey sweats.

"Why? oh, also I'm done." Kuroo opened one eye, quickly glancing behind to see you dressed. He let out a small sigh as he turned around.

"Because I love you and it would just feel weird y'know" You looked at him. Hair even messier than usual, the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, as well as his tie hanging loosely around his neck.

"To answer your question from earlier Kuroo, I would date you!" Honey laced your words as you walked towards him. Slowly reaching your arm out towards his tie, you grabbed onto it making his head come down to your level. Kuroo gazed into your eyes, a genuine smile playing at his lips, eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"Fuck you Tetsurou, making me feel shit." You whispered, flicking his forehead and yanking his tie forward causing your lips to meet. Secretly this is your first kiss, so although you looked cool and composed to Kuroo your mind was on the brink of jumping off a cliff. The kiss was sweet? No, it made you feel happy? Like you wanted to run a mile. ' Stupid hormones.' You pulled away, due to lack of air only to be met with one of Kuroos' shittiest grins.

"Mmm," Kuroo hummed. "You like that?"

"Oh stop being a dick." You rolled your eyes in a teasing way before giving Kuroo a little push and waltzing over to his bed. He took off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and looked over at you, like a little puppy waiting for its owner to throw a ball.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You giggled, hand covering your mouth.

"can I change?" You started laughing, even more, your other hand flying over your mouth trying your best to contain your laughter.

"Whattttt?" Kuroo whined out, folding his arms and turning his head. "I just wanted to make sure your fine with it."

"I- hahaha- It-It's fine." You spat out, trying your best to breathe.

"y'know what, I'm just gonna change in the bathroom." He smirked walking his petty ass out the door.

"w-wait Kuroo!" You gasped out, crawling on the bed and reaching your arm out. "p-pl-please! I can't!" Your breaths became shaky as you struggled to suck in the air. Legs giving out as you curled up on the bed, shaking grom your suppressed laughs. Kuroo slyly sneaked back into the room, unbeknownst to you and...

"BOO!" Kuroo's deep voice boomed in your ears as he touched your waist.

"AH!" You screamed falling off his bed and onto the floor, still writhing from your continuous laughs.

"STAHP! STAHP! YOUR TORTURING ME I-I- CAN'T!"

"HAHAHA!" Kuroo laughed beside you, finding your reaction so adorable. As you calmed down, finally controlling your breathing again you looked off to see Kuroo, still half-dressed on the floor next to you with half-lidded eyes, staring into yours.

"You like what ya see?" You breathed out, letting a little giggle pass your lips.

"Yea, I fuckin' love it." Now it was Kuroos turn to be bold. He grabbed onto your shirt pulling you on top of him and held your cheek in his hand before grabbing your jaw and pulling you down to meet his lips. This time though, the kiss was different, it was filled with love and something else, yet you couldn't quite put your finger on it. 'Stupid hormones...' Your hands traveled up his chest, meeting the expensive fabric of his button-down shirt.

As your hands continued to move up, your fingertips met his soft skin, before wrapping your hands around his neck and combing your finger through his dark locks. Kuroo slowly moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your head as well, only he tugged at it a bit, causing you to squeak out of surprise which was the perfect time for Kuroo to slip his tongue in. So he did, tongue entwining with yours, claiming you for the second time that night. The heat of the kiss spread through your body, fast like electricity quickly filling all your senses until you heard the door squeak... You jumped up, heart beating out of your chest as you looked over at the door, ' Shit I thought Kuroos parents were out...'

"Fukuuu~?" Kuroo spoke in a baby voice underneath you. A loud sigh escaped your mouth.

"What? did she scare you~?" Kuroo teased as Fuku, Kuroos black cat walked over to you, placing her two vanilla bean paws on Kuroos check before climbing onto his chest.

"Damn what's up with you guys all up on me, am I comfy or somethin'?"

"Very." You giggled out before shifting and laying your head on Kuroos stomach since the cat currently occupied his chest. You let out a content sigh, snuggling closer into his stomach. Kuroos' hands crawling up your back before combing through your hair once again.

"I love you Kuroo."

"I love you more Y/n."

______________

"Oh my fuck that hurts," Kuroo whined. You two eventually fell asleep on the floor, accompanied by his cat. Evidently, you and the cat slept great, but Kuroos neck, on the other hand, was suffering greatly from sleeping without the support of a pillow.

"Aweee I'm sorryyy~" You cooed, slowly massaging his neck, trying your best to relieve the pain. "- if it makes ya feel any better, I haven't slept better in years."

Kuroo looked at you with an are-you-serious face, before his features became washed out with love, eyes softening as his lips curled. He pulled you into a quick kiss, before pulling away and replying,

"I'm glad.

#kuroo tetsuro oneshot #haikyuu #anime #manga #fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #fluffshot #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #kenma kozume #xreader #reader insert #highschoolau #graduation #friends to lovers

2 notes · View notes

ehstarwar · 4 years

Text

under thy own life’s key (3/7)

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… in a funk.” That’s a good way to phrase it.

‘I mutually masturbated with my best friend and now all I can think of is how much he means to me and how much I want him to fuck me into the mattress for the rest of time. This is causing a personal turmoil that is manifesting in me being rude to everyone who cares about me, including said best friend who will probably never talk to me again when we get back from this trip’, seems too on the nose.

Rey deals with the aftermath of her exploits with Ben in a very healthy, mature manner. (She throws a temper tantrum.)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4K

Read on AO3

Notes: happy easter, plz enjoy this basket of sin ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Chapter 3: strike those who wish them best

Rey wakes up to cool sheets and the light filtering in from the small window across from the bed. A stark contrast to yesterday morning when she’d woken up in Ben’s embrace. She tries not to feel disappointed by it. Rey turns over, staring at the top bunk, replaying the events of last night in her head.

She’d had masturbated, not a wholly unusual event by itself, but with Ben. With her best friend, who she’s known for years. The same best friend she will be spending the next four days with. In this same bed. Where they’d masturbated. Together.

She wishes she was more experienced sexually; maybe then this wouldn’t have been a big deal then. Maybe she would’ve been able to wake up and go have breakfast and celebrate her friends and not even spared the whole endeavor a second thought. Maybe she wouldn’t be dying to know how Ben felt about this.

The image of him, body crouched on the bed, hand covered in his come, was seared into her brain; a tattoo she didn’t know she’d be getting. She’d never seen such a dark look in Ben’s eyes. It terrified her as much as it aroused her. When the tell-tale licks of heat start in her core, Rey knows its time to get up before her brain goes down a path that leaves her aching all day.

Rey doesn’t see Ben at breakfast. Rose tells her that he went for a run with Phasma before she woke up and it makes something red-hot take over her vision for a minute. Just because Phasma is a tall, grecian, etherial beauty that can only be rivaled by Aphrodite herself, doesn’t mean anything. And even if it did mean anything, Ben isn’t Rey’s to worry about.

Also, Rey is pretty sure Phasma transcends sexuality all together, so she’s crazy to be worried about her and Ben.

Rey is still a grouch for the rest of the morning, just in case.

It’s nearly noon before Ben gets back, sweaty and ripe and literally glowing, and Rey has to take a minute for herself so that she doesn’t rip her hair out.

“Damn, Solo! Is that what you’re hiding under all those sweaters?” Jannah makes a show of wiggling her eyebrows at Ben and that same red-hot feeling returns with a vengeance. The tips of Ben’s ears turn red and he stutters something bashful under his breath.

“Jannah are you going to come with us to the supermarket or not?” Rey asks. Well, asks would be a nice way to put it. Snapping with venom of a viper would be a more accurate description.

“Ugh…” Jannah says, looking at Rey like a deer in headlights, “I think I’ll pass on this one.”

“Okay!” Rey realizes she may have been too harsh, so she tries to make up for it by being overly cheerful. It just makes her look insane. “I’m going to go grab my shoes,” She shouts to Poe as she descends the stairs to her room.

By the time she’s able to locate the canvas Keds that have definitely seen better days, Ben is standing in the doorway.

“How was your run?” She asks as she tugs her shoes on with much more force than necessary.

“Good… its hot as fuck out there, though. I’ll probably need an ice bath just to cool off.” Me and you both, mister.

“Well, good luck with that!” Rey’s high-pitched voice sings out. She goes to walk past him and up the stairs. Ben’s hand catches her arm right as she’s about to pass him and her heart stops.

“Rey, is everything alright?” His voice is full of concern and it makes Rey want to die a little.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Ben gives her a look that really makes her want to die.

“I didn’t want anything to be awkward after last night, so-”

“Honestly, nothing is awkward. Whatever you think in awkward is probably in your own head because I don’t feel it. So don’t worry so much.”

Ben’s face falls as he releases her arm. For a moment, Rey is tempted to come clean with him; tell him that last night woke something in her that had long been forming and now the reality of it is crushing her and just being in the same room as him is almost too much. But she doesn’t. She calls out her goodbye as she walks up the stairs and tries to focus on literally anything besides his hurt expression when he let her go.

“Should we go with the corn tortillas or the flour ones?” Poe asks.

“Corn. It will be more authentic that way.” Hux replies.

Rey pushes the buggy as Poe, Rose, and Finn load it up with sugary junk that Hux promptly returns to the shelf. Her sour mood is palpable and the rest of her friend had chosen to steer clear of her for the time being.

Rey hates this. She hates feeling this way, she hates making this trip anything less than the magnificent occasion Hux and Poe anticipated, she hates herself for not being able to just get over it. It would be so easy if she could just hate Ben, blame this all on him, but she can’t. It’s not his fault, just hers.

“Oh, what about this, babe?” Poe say, holding up a giant bag of marshmallows that would make you dislocate your jaw to be able to stuff in your face. “It’ll be good for the bonfire tomorrow.”

Hux grumbles something about ‘glucose’ and ‘diabetic coma’, but tosses a bag in the buggy anyways. Sometimes it was so easy to see why Hux and Ben were friends.

“If you see anything you want, just toss it in, Rey. We still have a long time at the cabin and I know how you like your six meals each day,” Poe tells her. For the first time in her relatively short life, she doesn’t get the thrill of a supermarket stuffed with food that she could potentially have. She remembers the first time she walked into an actual grocery store, with fresh vegetables and a whole bakery, instead of just a gas station on a corner.

If eight year old could see Rey now, grumpy and quiet, not shoving her arms full of any food she could find, she’d hate herself. Twenty-five year old Rey kind of does too.

“I’m good. I’m sure you all will get enough.”

Three set of eyes turn back to stare at her, like she just spoke in pig latin. Hux just keeps wandering down the frozen food section.

“Peanut, are you okay? You’ve been a little… off today.” Rose asks, voice full concern.

“She means that you’ve been a heinous bitch,” Finn clarifies, making Rose slap his chest. Rey just rolls her eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… in a funk.” That’s a good way to phrase it. ‘I mutually masturbated with my best friend and now all I can think of is how much he means to me and how much I want him to fuck me into the mattress for the rest of time. This is causing a personal turmoil that is manifesting in me being rude to everyone who cares about me, including said best friend who will probably never talk to me again when we get back from this trip’, seems too on the nose.

“Is it because of Ben? Do you not want to room with him any more?” Poe asks. Rey ignores the sharp flash of a glare Hue sends her way.

“No, that’s not it at all. It’s just… Ben is my best friend.” Finn clears his throat. “Sorry, one of my best friends,” Rey rectifies. “But sometimes I feel like I don’t know where we stand. Like if I annoy him too much, he’d never say. He’s just so damn thoughtful. It’s infuriating when I’m trying to figure out if I did something wrong.”

Her friends share a sheepish look before Rose speaks up again. “Have you tried talking about it with Ben?”

Rey scoffs. “If I told him that, he’d apologize to me and I’d feel even worse.”

“Did something happen?” Poe asks.

“No!” Rey shouts, a little too quickly, “Just tight quarters, and all…”

“You’re always welcome to come stay in my room if you need some space!” Rose pipes up, earning a wide-eyed look from Finn. Rey wants to say that if the two of them just fessed up and admitted they were together, they could’ve stayed in the same room and Rey would have been able to have her own room and she wouldn’t be in this mess at all.

But there are levels of bitchyness that even Rey won’t stoop to.

In order to distract her friends from the inner crisis that was threatening to break loose, Rey throws a four-pack of instant mac & cheese in the buggy. They look placated enough to go back to grocery hauling.

(The mac & cheese is entirely for their benefit and not because it has Rey’s favorite Galaxy Battles character on it.)

Those who stayed behind are down by the lake, so Finn and Rose make a bee line for it while Rey, Poe, and Hux unload the groceries. The banter between Hux and Poe is cute in a way that reminds her of old grandparents, who’ve been together for over 50 years and argue about the smallest thing, but love each other more than words.

They’re in a verbal spar about where to put the produce in the fridge when Ben comes in. He’d actually changed into his swim trunks today, the black ones his mother had bought him specifically for this trip. He’s shirtless, water droplets running down his chest, and hair slicked back, glossy and starting to curl.

Rey bites her lip so hard she taste the metallic rush of blood in her mouth.

“You know we’re only staying here for another four days. You bought enough food to feed a small country,” Ben remarks, taking stock of the multitude of bags (paper, Hux insisted) lining the kitchen.

“We’re having tacos for dinner! It requires a lot of ingredients, Benji,” Poe says without looking up. Ben comes to stand by Rey, helping her unpack all of the bags.

“How’s the lake?” She asks, wanting to keep the conversation from returning to questions of her bad mood from earlier.

“It’s hot enough that the lake feels like bath water.”

“Mmm. That’s my favorite. Anything else is too cold.”

“Makes sense, for a desert rat.” She looks up to see ben smirking at her, playful glint in his eyes. Rey rolls her eyes, and bumps him with her hip.

“What? Can’t take the heat, city-slicker?” She taunts to him. Ben just plucks the can of refried beans out of her hands and places it on the top shelf, one she can’t get to without a ladder or freakishly tall legs.

She realizes that this playfulness means that they’re back to normal, and Rey feels her heart swell with relief.

The four of them make sandwiches for everyone down by the lake, and Rey and Ben are charged with bringing it down while Hux and Poe find bowls for chips. Rey doesn’t mention that it’s probably best that they stay in the bag, knowing its a sorry excuse for some alone time. It is their bachelor weekend, after all.

They’re halfway down the path, a comfortable silence over them when Ben finally speaks up.

“You seem to be in a better mood than earlier.”

She shrugs.

“I got Galaxy Battles mac & cheese for 30% off, so it's kind of hard to have a bad day after that.” Ben hums quietly.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re cool. You sort of brushed me off earlier.” The guilt that had repressed itself resurfaced and Rey thinks about running away from this conversation.

“Sorry about that. It’s nothing, really. I’m better now, I promise,” She looks back over to him with a 1000-watt smile, hoping to appease Ben. His expression softens when he sees her, making Rey almost miss a step.

“Good. I don’t want anything to come between us.” His voice is strong and Rey is tempted to ask how he feels. She thinks better of it for a moment, knowing that prolonging this will just end badly.

“Me too, Ben.” It’s the first time all day she hasn’t had to lie. It makes her heart a little lighter.

The rest of the day had gone by unceremoniously. Rey had apologized to Jannah (who was confused, but let it go when Rey brought her a white claw), spent the better part of the afternoon at the lake, and feasted on some delicious tacos for dinner. (The tacos were delicious because Ben took over once Poe burned his hand and Hux had threatened to call the national guard to come look at his wound).

Everything would have been perfectly fine if Ben didn’t look so fucking good. Like cover of GQ, built AF, gigantic manly-man but radiates softie vibes, good. Rey was dying. No human should be allowed to make taco consumption feel like a religious experience, but clearly no one told Ben that.

So now she’s in bed, with Ben, staring up in the darkness, holding onto the last shred of sanity that had the tenacity of dental floss.

If this was her own bed, Rey would be able to scream into her pillow in agony. She’d be able to toss and turn to her hearts content. She wouldn’t have even been in this problem in the first place.

But she’s not in her own bed. She is in a queen sized (maybe) death contraption that was sent straight here from Satan himself. The frustration she felt all over (but particularly in her nether regions) was boiling over into hot tears pricking at her eyes. And she absolutely would not let herself cry.

Rey is an adult. She pays her rent on time (usually). She bypasses sugar-inundated treats for healthy, greener options (from time to time). She has a whole shelf in her bathroom dedicated to vitamins (and expired face masks). She will not cry out of sexual frustration.

If the tears leak out of the corners of her eyes without any resistance from her, that’s on them.

She turns to her side, away from Ben, to let the drops be absorbed by her pillow case, when she hears his breathing shift.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice is low, like he’s testing to see if she’s awake.

“Yeah. You?” She asks, muffling her voice in her pillow and hoping he can’t hear her involuntary sniffle. Which is, of course, no use.

“… Are you crying?”

“No.” Her voice betrays her and she feels ben scoot closer towards her.

“Rey.” The way he says her name makes a damn break inside of her.

“I can’t sleep and I’m crying about it like I’m some sort of petulant baby! It’s ridiculous! I have a job and insurance and and a bar cart for crying out loud, and I’m crying because I can’t sleep. What kind of adult am I? I mean, honestly Ben, how do you put up with me?”

She hears him chuckle before she feels his finger skim across her cheek, brushing away the fresh wave of tears that had fallen. She’s not sure if he could tell the way she chased his hand with her face when he moves it away.

“I choose to put up with you because I want to. I don’t see it as an inconvenience,” He says. Rey doesn’t respond, just lays there soaking up the words that cause a rush of dopamine to flood her brain.

After a minute, Ben speaks up again. “Would it be helpful if you did the same thing as last night-“”

“No. I… I’m… I don’t want to do that to you again.” I want to do much, much worse things.

“You act like it was a huge burden, like I don’t do it all the time,” Ben snorts. Images of Ben, casually lounging around his apartment, jerking off with no constraints, fill Rey’s head and it only makes the dull fire that’s been plaguing her all day grow even hotter.

“It’s just that… I’m so keyed up right now. Whenever I get like this, it’s harder to get off. If I try to get off now, I run the risk of being too wound up to let go and making it even worse.” Ben gives her a noise of understanding and they go back to laying in silence.

“I could help.”

Rey’s snaps towards him, meeting his milky brown eyes and realizing he’d been looking at her the whole time. She uses this to embolden herself and ask the next question.

“How?”

“However you need.”

The offer hangs in the air, like the Sword of Damocles, threatening to fall and burst the bubble Rey feels she and Ben are in.

Her gaze flicks down his body, seeing where the blanket has shifted and his thigh is peaking out. She immediately rights herself, pulling her eyes back to his. But nothing gets past him, not even in the dead of night, when they’re illuminated only by the soft moonlight of their sole window.

Ben pulls the blanks down further, revealing his milky thighs, wrapped in muscle and dusted with dark hair. Rey gulps and feels her body positively gush.

“You don’t have to do this, Ben.” Her voice is a hushed whisper but feels like lightning in a silent storm.

“I know. I want to.”

Rey tentatively moves her hand to brush his thighs, just below where his boxer shorts began. She moves her whole body towards him, then, just as he spreads his leg further. Rey keeps her eyes on her hand on his thigh as she moves to push her leg over his.

Rey wants to kiss the feet of whatever Deity forced her to wear her babydoll nightgown and forego shorts all together.

The first brush of her covered cunt on his thigh sends a shock through her, making her shudder. Rey doesn’t dare look up at Ben, just keeps her eyes trained on where their bodies are now touching. She grips the underside of his thigh, pulling it up towards her so that her whole core is firmly resting on his tree-trunk thighs.

“Is this okay?” She asks, voice breathless and still refusing to look up.

“Yeah.” She feels less bad when she hears his voice is even more breathless than hers.

The first experimental rocking of her hips feels like sweet heaven. So she does it again. And Again. And again. She grinds into him softly, trying to not show how desperate she is to shove herself on him and piston her hips as fast as humanly possible. Her panties become uncomfortably wet from her ministrations and, without thinking, Rey shoves her hands between them to push her underwear to the side.

“Rey…” Ben’s voice chokes out. She can’t stop her rocking, even if she wanted to. But she asks him anyways.

“Is this okay?” He voice is a whine, high pitched and needy. Ben’s low mumble to the affirmative pushes her even further. She clutch him closer, feeling the way his ticklish hair rubs against her pussy lips. The warmth of his skin against her cunt. The tightening of muscles she feels beneath her.

Rey rolls her body further onto him, trying to get an even better angle for her clit to brush up against. She’s over half of him now, face buried in his shoulder. She can smell him so much better like this. The overwhelming scent of body wash and laundry detergent; the slight hint of musk between his arms is her favorite.

Her hand involuntary seeks purchase agains his chest, going to clutch his white shirt over his pec. Rey rocks harder and harder each time, letting out soft moans and squeaks when she catches her clit just right.

Rey rides his thigh like a bull; bucking wildly, holding on for dear life. Her orgasm approaches and she slows her movements, wanting this to last as along as humanly possible. Maybe even for the rest of her life.

“Rey!” Ben cries out again and her head instantly shoots up to look at him. His hands are gripping the bottom of the bunk above them. He is flushed down to his neck, and has sweat gathering at the base of his neck. His black hair is plastered to his forehead. But the most haunting this is his eyes. They’re open, and staring down to where Rey’s cunt is forcefully pushing against his thigh.

He looks like he could eat her.

Rey is coming before she knows it, unable to look away from Ben’s face. Her juices coat his leg as she still rocks agains him, slower now, but the slick sound of skin makes an obscene noise that makes him growl. She buries her face in his shoulder again, breathing heavy against him. Ben’s body is still underneath hers, knee up to keep Rey on him as she comes down from her high. When she calms down enough to reenter her body, she rolls off of him, wincing when she feels her sopping wet cunt pull off of his thigh.

Rey finally gets the courage to look back up at him, and finds his eyes closed, looking like he was controlling his breathing. His neck and face are still flushed and she resist the urge to brush his hair back to see the tips of his red ears.

She may had just ridden his thigh into oblivion, but casual touches of intimacy were too far to be risked.

Ben stands up with a start, hopping up and turning to look back down at Rey, who is now in a blob on the bed. He regards her for a minute, and she him. When the white streak of his come starts trailing down his leg, she realizes what going on.

“I’ll, uh… go clean up.” Ben says before turning to the bathroom. She catches another glimpse of his glistening thigh and another streak of come wandering down his leg. Rey is sure if she could move right now, she would be unable to stop herself from reaching out and licking it up.

Rey adjusts herself back on the bed, squarely on her side. She doesn’t care that she’s a wet, sticky mess between her legs. She doesn’t care her heart rate still hasn’t slowed down to a normal level. All she can think about his how good it feels to know she made him come.

She’s asleep before Ben exits the bathroom.

#rey is ready to pop the cap on some mofos in this chapter leeme tell ya #reylo #ben solo #kylo ren #rey #rey x ben #kylo ren x rey #sw #finnrose #gingerpilot #i think that's the hux x poe tag?#star wars #my work #fan fiction

8 notes · View notes

magioftheseas · 4 years

Text

Take Me Back, Back, Back

For @bidoofgodofdestruction

Summary: One minute he's failed to convince Hinata Hajime against the Kamukura Izuru Project. The next, he's in a hospital bed with Hinata Hajime leaning over him. In a scene that he could've sworn already happened months ago.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Violence both implied and explicit albeit minor and not super graphic. Also this entire thing circles around a time loop so there are implicit character deaths in it, too. And angst. Lots of angst.

Notes: I got commissioned to write time loop KomaHina where Komaeda tries to prevent Hinata from signing up for the project! It’s set, however, in bidoof’s Ultimate Despair fic so you need to read it for context. It mentions band stuff. The band stuff is important. It’s also super angsty. This and that fic because...obviously. Wheeeeeeee.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

He first remembers a dead phone line. The ground rippling and sinking below. It’s cold. It’s dark. He still can’t move. His heart pounds on the inside of his chest.

Let me out, let me out!

It’s screaming. Inside, it’s all just screaming.

Let me out! Let me see him! Please! Please! It can’t end like this!

“It’s not use,” Matsuda Yasuke had told him. “He’s too far gone.”

Hinata-kun.

He laughs. His trapped heart sobs between its screams.

Hinata-kun!

And he wakes up, jumping as Hinata yelps.

“H-Hey, easy, easy there!” Hinata grips his shoulders as he thrashes, squeezing and frantic. “Calm down, it’s just me!”

He stills. He’s panting. He’s in the bed of the nurse’s office. There’s sunlight filtering through the window, catching onto Hinata Hajime’s worried face. His furrowed brow. Komaeda stares.

The next onslaught of memories leave him limp and breathless. Hinata exclaims something. Is quick to embrace him so that he doesn’t slip. Quickly spills out bland reassurances. Komaeda’s heart is still pounding, but it’s not asking him to be let out.

“Hinata-kun.”

Hinata rubs his back awkwardly, nearly choking out his response as if he were shaken up, too. “Y-Yeah?”

“What just happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” Hinata stammers. “I mean, we were having band practice. You were swaying. Mioda thought it was to the music but you looked a little paler than usual and then—uh. You fell. Tumbled off the stage, too. How hard did you...?”

Not being an Ultimate, Hinata’s hand groping his skull for the implied bruise was uncomfortable and awkward. Komaeda still leaned into the touch. It hurt like hell, but he’s been through worse. So much worse.

“Aw, jeez.” Hinata quickly retracts his hand. “Yeah, that’s a bump. Don’t think we can continue practicing like this.”

“Ahaha.” Komaeda remembers, now, and just like before, he shakes his head. “No, no, I’m fine enough to sing. I can just sit down while I do if you’re worried about my balance.”

“Are you sure? There’s no shame in taking a break while you’re injured.”

“There is shame in disappointing others, especially when they’re Ultimates.”

They’ve had this conversation before. It’s all familiar.

When his feet touch the ground, he feels the rippling.

Was that—all really just a dream?

Hinata’s expression is strained and conflicted. It’s clear he wants to argue. Komaeda remembers being irritated with him. Bristling and telling him off.

He feels different now.

“I’ll be fine. It’s fine.”

“If you...say so.”

He says all that and when Hinata pulls away to let him stand, his heart thumps in protest.

No, no, no.

“A-At least help me up,” Komaeda mutters lamely, raising his hand. Hinata shorts, but he doesn’t hesitate. He takes Komaeda’s hand. He smiles just a bit.

He squeezes, and Komaeda’s heart soars.

There were more moments of familiarity. Conversations and banter that he had been through once before. Flashes of the future pushing at his skull before they’d happen in front of him. Building and building until a fateful, undoubtedly significant moment.

It was Hinata’s birthday. He showed up to give him a present. He hadn’t seen anyone else in weeks. It hadn’t been any easier the supposed second time. He felt a little sick, honestly.

And then, Hinata Hajime asked him—

“If you had the opportunity to be gifted talent...would you take it?”

“What on earth are you saying?”

His initial response was the same, but his heart was pounding in his ears.

“You’re fine as you are.” The words spill out before he can stop them. “You don’t need talent, you’re already worthwhile.”

“H-Huh?! That’s a complete 180 from your usual behavior.” Hinata straightens up, but he seems attentive. Komaeda wonders. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

It occurs to him, then, that he’s gripping Hinata’s hands tight. Tight enough that his own might break.

“You’re fine as you are,” he presses. “You don’t need any sort of talent! So, just—forget it! Forget all about it!”

“H-How the hell am I supposed to forget?! Oi, Komaeda, let go!”

“Hajime, don’t go—!”

Hinata shoves him away. The words keep spilling and spilling.

“Hope and talent still can’t be manufactured—no matter what they do, no matter what you do, it won’t matter. All you’re doing is killing yourself. What’s the good in that? You’re reducing yourself to a husk for—for what? For just the idea that you could be talented?!”

“W-What are you—you don’t know what you’re—argh!” Hinata clutches his head, and he screams. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Hajime, I-I’m just saying...”

“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!”

“H-Hajime, please—!”

Hinata removes him forcibly. He threatens to call the police when Komaeda bangs on his door. It’s an empty threat. The police won’t care, especially not the campus cops. But Komaeda freezes, seizes, and then—

Through blurring tears, he wakes up again. Hinata is by his side again, fretting over him.

“W-What’s wrong, Komaeda?! Komaeda?”

“I-I... I... A-Aha... Haha... How...!” Throwing his arm over his eyes, he wheezes in grief and euphoria. “How lucky—! To get not just a second chance, but a third!”

“Komaeda!”

That’s the delight about his luck, you see. Luck is when something happens in spite of the odds. As long as there’s that non-zero-percent chance, there’s a way. And his Ultimate Luck worked that very way.

Wasn’t that wonderful? Wasn’t that amazing?

No matter how many times he tried over and over and over and over and over and over again, as long as there was a chance of success—none of it mattered! None of it at all!

Even when—

“Look, Komaeda, I know you mean well, but—I’m not in the mood, I’m sorry. I don’t think—I can talk to you anymore.”

And when—

“Y-You’re getting kinda creepy, so like...can you just leave it alone...? I don’t need you patronizing me.”

Especially when—

“I don’t know who told you about the project, but if it gets out, it’ll be bad for Hope’s Peak. Sorry, Komaeda-kun, but we just can’t take the risk, even if it’s with you. But you’ll understand, won’t you?”

When—

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, open your eyes! Komaeda! Komaeda! NAGITO!!”

“Hey, can you hear me?”

He wakes up, dazed and dizzy. He still remembers the cold stream of blood running down his temple. Hinata shakes his shoulder a bit.

“You with me? That fall was—pretty bad.”

So bad it killed me, he thought drearily. But it’s okay. I’m still here. I still have—a chance. But what should I do this time? What’s even less? How should I—?

“Maybe I should get you ice?” Hinata wonders, almost idly. “Komaeda, how are you feeling?”

I’m so frustrated.

“Like shit.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s blunt. Guess you did hit your head pretty hard.” Hinata shrugs it off. He goes to the freezer to fetch an ice pack. “Yeah, I’ll tell Mioda that we’ll have to stop band practice early today. And I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

What can even be done about you?

He does come up with an idea. One that’s sure to make Hinata Hajime hate him. He knows going to Hope’s Peak staff is a dead end, figuratively and literally—he supposes, then, all he has left is burning the bridge entirely.

“Actually, Hinata-kun.” He manages his usual smile as Hinata hands him the pack. He doesn’t feel the chill seeping into his skull as he presses it to the bump there. “I’ll just tell Mioda-san that the band isn’t an option anymore.”

Hinata Hajime blinks at him rather dumbly.

“You...don’t think you can recover at all?”

Aha. You’re so cute.

“I can’t accept it. You in a space for Ultimates. Associating with Ultimates. Reserves like you—that level of cockiness should be considered a crime.”

Hinata Hajime blinks again.

“...seriously? This again? You’re going to throw another tantrum now? Y’know—you’re just going to upset the others. Mioda, Saionji, Tsumiki, like—they don’t deserve this shit. Just rest. Recover. But if you want to drop out, I’m not going to stop you. It’s your own damn problem to deal with.”

“Ahaha. You make me sound so selfish.” Maybe I am. You’re just one person. The loss of someone like you shouldn’t be significant. And, yet. I want to prevent it. “It’s not just me, I swear. It’s you. All you. Hinata-kun, I—think you should go back to your last high school.”

“Well, I refuse. Sorry.”

Right now, Hinata Hajime looks at him as if he were the scum of the earth. He should be used to that.

It still hurts. But, compared to everything else—this meager self-centered pain is—

“Haha. Hinata-kun, you’re such a piece of work. You’re so pathetic, trotting after every Ultimate’s heels. You’re even latched onto someone like me.” He laughs. It hurts. It’s cold. “Do you think that if you cling hard enough that you’ll be taken in? Like a stray dog?”

“That wasn’t why!” Hinata exclaimed. “You—I just got dragged into this from the start!”

“I doubt it’s that.” The ice is set aside. Komaeda swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I really do believe you think it’s that easy to be accepted. Just to wiggle your way in. Like a naughty cuckoo. But, don’t you know? Birds aren’t all fools. They can spot the fakes. They reject them. It’s going to be the same with you. So.” He pokes Hinata’s sternum. There’s a flutter. “It’s best you just leave before you’re dropped, Hinata-kun. It’ll hurt less that way.”

Hinata slaps his hand away.

“Fuck you.”

Komaeda slaps him across the face. The response is immediate. Hinata seizes the collars of his shirt, pulls him close, and—

Komaeda screams.

The response is immediate.

Hinata drops him in surprise. A passing teacher rushes in. Komaeda points. Hinata pales.

Hinata tries to stammer out his name. Komaeda doesn’t look at him.

“Teacher, this reserve attacked me.”

Hinata shouts at him before he’s yanked away. It could’ve been out of rage. Confusion. It could’ve been a plea. Komaeda doesn’t really remember that part—but he does remember Hinata Hajime’s expulsion soon after.

The days pass.

The world still ends.

Komaeda Nagito can only laugh until he bursts into tears. He passes out soon after and hopes he doesn’t wake up again.

#KomaHina #HinaKoma #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #bidoofgodofdestruction #Magi fics #Ngl I did want to write the scene where Komaeda gets offed by HPA faculty but like I didn't want to bog the fic down #with Komaeda just losing that little bit of faith he had left in HPA lol #........along with his life #HPA Bad kids #it's bad for kids

14 notes · View notes

livsinpjs · 4 years

Text

Believe in the Green Light (pt 3) the busy

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.” - F. Scott. Fitzgerald

The BAU team is called into Pasadena, California after the deaths of three lead to an investigation revolving around Gatsby, a new drug that hit the market at a dead sprint. When a raid on a house reveals the creator of the drug, a young man no one even knew was missing, Jason Gideon and co. find themselves involved in a case bigger than they originally thought.

Spencer sat as still as possible, trying not to aggravate his injuries. He tried to clear his mind, which was running a mile a minute. He needed to take stock of his injuries. That was something he could do. That was something within his control. He closed his eyes and let himself focus on the pain that was his entire world. Starting from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He obviously had a concussion. He didn’t know how severe. He couldn’t remember how many blows he sustained, but the throbbing behind his eyes and the nausea was enough to confirm it. Moving downwards to his throat, which was most likely bruised from the times They would strangle him. Not enough to make him pass out or anything, just enough to slam his head against the concrete wall, which didn’t help the concussion.

Then to his face, bruised and bloody. Nose was probably broken, and cuts from the rings his attackers wore as they pummeled him into oblivion. His mind wandered then, wondering what could have happened to those men that made them feel the need to beat him senseless. Or maybe they were just complete sadists? Trying to use his profiling skills in this condition was almost impossible. Almost. But he was getting distracted. Injuries. Right.

Farther down to his ribs, and shit did he not want to think about them. But it was all he could do at this point. He tried to focus but he could feel his mind wandering, self loathing and crippling hopelessness filling his stomach and- No. It will be okay. He just had to not think about it. But not thinking is something he just doesn’t do. So thinking about something else is his only choice, and- Damn it Reid, focus. Ribs right. Definitely bruised if not broken, obvious by the way his chest moved and felt each time he took a breath. How many, he couldn’t tell. Couldn’t pinpoint the places in most pain. All right, lower. His stomach was probably bruised, but he couldn’t see through his tattered, bloody shirt.

Then to his legs, probably bruised. His ankle was most definitely broken. If the way his foot was pointing wasn’t enough of an indicator, the fire coursing through his veins sure was. That was the last of his injuries that he could pinpoint. Everything else was just pain.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to release his agitation by throwing a huge tantrum like a child or have a breakdown like an emotional teenager. He couldn’t, of course, but even if he could he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t give Them the satisfaction of seeing him break. It was just so hard to hold himself together. The only thing stopping a full meltdown was his situation. He knew that if he did, he could die. They would kill him if he acted out. They told him so. So he just had to sit, the most of the pain being caused by the buzzing under his skin. He just had to sit and wait.

But wait for what?

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

The team walked into the precinct early the next morning. Quickly they began working on the profile.

“The overkill suggests an emotional motive. Maybe he’s a kid being bullied at school. He kills his aggressors to take revenge.” Morgan said as he sat at their table, looking at a specific photo of the deceased Michael Nook.

Gideon shook his head. “These killings have a kind of... maturity to them. If the Unsub was a highschool student, there would be a lot more overkill and a messier crime scene. He would also have most likely stolen the items on the victims, especially the drugs.”

“So who is this guy?” Morgan wonders aloud. JJ walks in with coffee and they continue to work.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

After a while of note taking and slow progression, Detective Sanders came into their conference room with a grave look.

“They’ve found another body. Killed last night by the looks of it. Witnesses recall multiple gunshots.”

Hotchner and Morgan stood up at the same time. They nodded to each other and looked towards Gideon.

“I think I’ll stay here and update victimology.” Gideon said, turning to the board once more.

“All right Morgan, let’s head out.” Hotchner spoke and they left Gideon alone to stew in his thoughts.

What is it about the victims that get them killed?

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

CSI swarmed the alleyway between Marceline’s Flower shop and Bubblegum Tattoo Parlor, crime scene tape and markers seemingly strewn about randomly.

Morgan and Hotchner weaved in and out of people’s way, flashing their credentials when necessary. They were finally able to squeeze into the eye of the storm, crime scene techs taking pictures and doing all sorts of tests. Detective Sanders finished speaking with a technician and approached the agents. Morgan already crouched, examining the dead man.

“Chris Alexander, 28. He had copious amounts of Gatsby on him, as well has hundreds of dollars in cash.” Sanders said as he looked down at the deceased.

“He must be one of the Gatsby dealers, he may have connections to the manufacturers. Morgan, call Garcia and have her go through every inch of data on this man’s phone. I want anything to do with Gatsby analyzed, see if we can find where these manufacturers are, they may be his next target.” Hotch ordered as he pulled out his phone as well, pressing a speed dial and turning to take his call in some semblance of privacy.

Morgan stood and did the same, pressing one of his first speed dials.

“You’ve reached the mistress of all knowledge. Speak mortal, and have your questions answered.” Penelope spoke into her head piece.

“Hey baby girl, I need a complete search through a victim’s phone” He motioned at a CSI tech and they handed over the phone. “Name’s Chris Alexander.” He pulled up the phone number and read it off. “Filter anything having to do with Gatsby or drugs, also anything to do with the book The Great Gatsby, they may have some sort of code they use.”

“Alright, give me a bit to comb and I’ll get back to you hot stuff.”

“Thanks sugar.” He smiled into the phone as he hung up. What a woman. He caught up with Hotchner and they finished up at the crime scene before heading back to the police precinct.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

When they arrived, Gideon was adding information to their board, fresh pictures of Chris Alexander and the crime scene already up.

“He’s growing more agitated. More angry. The amount of overkill in this victim is equal to the distributed amount amongst the Nook’s and McCarthy.” Gideon spoke, not turning to see the two agents entering the conference room. With JJ speaking to the press about another shooting, it was just the three of them.

“Yet the amount of victims has decreased. He killed three in the beginning, why kill only one this time around?” Hotch mused, stepping up to the board next to Gideon.

“Maybe he’s killing these people for a specific reason. All four victims had Gatsby on them. Maybe this guy just has a vendetta against the stuff, or maybe someone he knows is using and he wants to get rid of it.” Morgan sat at the table, opening the file and looking through it for the umpteenth time.

“Whoever he is, he’s getting angrier.” Gideon said.

Derek’s phone rang then, he quickly put Penelope on speaker. “What have you got for me baby girl?”

“Okay, so this guy is not sneaky at all. He blatantly speaks about Gatsby without hesitation, ya know if I were a super secret drug dealer I would use a bunch of code names, especially common words so no one would suspect anything, like grocery shopping, but not this guy is all like ‘Hey I’m selling Gatsby here and here so don’t be goin’ around there’ Like come on! He-”

“Baby girl, you’re getting off topic, what have you got?”

“Right! Well anyway he talks to this one guy a lot, Nick, who looks to me like an OG dealer. He’s kind of mentoring this guy, telling him where to go and where not to go. Anyway, I was able to find a recent message from them saying where they’re gonna be selling throughout the week. This week.”

Hotch spoke up then, “That’s great Garcia, send us an address and we’ll get back to you soon.’’ Then he hurried out of the room. Morgan and Gideon gave each other questioning looks, but neither of them knew what had gotten into their supervisor.

“All right baby girl, thank you, well get back with you later.” With that, he hung up and he and Gideon left the conference room to find their boss.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

She was shaking. Her frizzy blonde hair in a ponytail and her arms wrapped around her as if she was cold in the humid, California air. She looked around feverishly until she spotted him. He was scoping out the crowd just like her, but he was more calm and collected. She looked like she would lash out any second. She quickly moved towards the man, almost desperately.

“You have some, right? The- the stuff? You know? I can tell, you look like the other guys who gave it to me. Please tell me you have some.” She was almost pleading with the man. He seemed amused at her desperate cries.

“I might have the stuff you’re looking for..” He glanced towards a nearby alleyway and began walking towards it.

She quickly caught up to him, falling into step beside him as they entered the alley. “Please, I’ll give you anything.”

He looked her up and down. “Anything?”

“First the stuff.” She almost pleaded. He took out a small, white vial, showing it off.

“How do I know you won’t run with it the second you get your hand on it?”

“B-Because…” she stuttered, reaching behind her.

She drew her gun and pointed it at Nicholas Armstrong. “You’re under arrest. FBI Special agent Jennifer Jareau.” After that, police and FBI agents swarmed the alley, quickly confiscating the drug and cuffing the perpetrator.

“Good work JJ.” Morgan approached her after Nick was carted away.

“It was Hotch’s idea. He looked at Abigail Cooper and thought, with some acting and an outfit change, I could fit in with her crowd. It was his idea to send me in undercover. I’m just glad it went smoothly.”

“Yeah,” He patted her on the back “Me too.”

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

“Look, if you tell us where you got the drug, we’ll say you cooperated with the authorities, that usually sticks out to a judge and maybe your punishment won’t be as bad.” Morgan was trying once again to get Nicholas Armstrong to talk.

“And I already told you I don’t know shit!” Nick said defiantly, crossing his arms as if to prove a point.

“Listen man, I’m sure you’ve heard on the news about the recent killing, yeah? Well, one of the victims was your little friend Chris Alexander. And we have reason to believe the killer’s gonna come after you and these people you got Gatsby from. Now we could put you into protective custody, or we can charge you with illegal distribution of drugs and you’ll be fined and sent on your merry way. Straight into the arms of a killer. So how ‘bout you just tell me where we can find these other guys!” Morgan slammed his hands on the table for emphasis at the end of his spiel. Looking pointedly at the man whose eyes had become like saucers.

“O-okay okay… geez.” He sat up straight and inhaled before continuing. “I don’t know who they are, but every week they open up their house and sell it to use out of there. Actually, there are rumors that they make the stuff down there and that they’re a part of some kind of mob or something, but everyone is too scared of them to try anything.”

“An address, Armstrong. I need an address.”

“Right, right, uh.. It’s 4267 Leavenworth. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“All right, I appreciate your help my man.” And with that, Derek walked out of the room and pulled out his phone. “Hotch, yeah I’m gonna need a SWAT Team at 4267 Leavenworth.”

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

Spencer woke with a start. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, (especially if he had a concussion) but there wasn’t much else to do down in his prison, and he needed to keep up his energy, in case he had any opportunities to escape. He blinked several times, trying to clear his head in vain. After a moment it occurred to him that something must have woken him up. He looked around the room, but nothing seemed out of place. But there it was again. The door was being unlocked. Spencer braced himself, not knowing who to hope for. The two maybe sadists or Maria and her family.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out though, because Maria came strolling in, her father right beside her, looking beyond angry. Spencer tensed as if he were to be struck, but no blow came. The two stopped at Spencer’s feet before the father began speaking.

“We’re leaving.” he said coolly. At this Spencer’s mind raced. Where are they going? Are they going to take him with them or let him go? Or are they going to leave him for dead? Before he could spiral any further, the man spoke again. “Someone’s killin’ the clientele here and the feds have shown up.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at that. The FBI is here, it’s only a matter of time before they arrest Them and rescue him. “But unfortunately for you…” Spencer’s train of thought was immediately disrupted by the man and hopelessness filled him yet again. “You ain’t gonna be seeing no feds in this lifetime. Maria, if you will.” And then he left the room, leaving Maria and Spencer alone.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

Maria stared down at her captive as her hand went to the gun behind her. He looked terrible. His pretty features hidden underneath blood and grime. His form trembling. He hadn’t uttered a word in the six weeks he had been there. Answering questions with a shake or a nod of his head. He would make the occasional scream of ‘no’ or ‘stop’, like the time yesterday when Tyrone had broken his ankle. Other than that, he’d hum annoyingly or whimper. But nothing else. It was almost like he had gone mute. She knew he could speak. He talked immensely during their class together. Almost none stop. It was almost… endearing in a way. Now he refused to say anything. She almost felt bad for him. He was about to die, beaten and bruised in the basement of a random suburban house with no one to even know he was gone..

She leveled the gun at Spencer’s head and he froze, fear seeping out of every pore. He began to frantically shake his head. She hesitated for a moment, but she quickly recovered her resolve and-

He was mouthing a word at her. What was he trying to say? Then she heard it. The tiniest whisper.

“Please.”

She stopped, dropping her arm and looking at the boy in front of her. He was just a boy. He didn’t deserve to die like this. But her father was waiting for her...

A tear, and a gunshot.

Maria joined her father upstairs and they prepared to depart Spencer Reid’s personal hell.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

The shot was so painful he slammed his head against the wall. And then he did it again. And again. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. He bit through his lip, trying to stay quiet, but a yell still tore through his throat and his leg-

God, his leg. It hurt more than anything he had ever felt before. His vision was tunneling and he was hyperventilating and he couldn’t stop hitting his head.

Against.

The.

Wall.

He couldn’t tell if the sound in his ears was in his head or coming from him.

Then the tears came, silently falling down his face.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

SWAT cars and black SUVs screeched to a halt just outside of a small suburban house. Agents filing out of their vehicles and putting their vests on. Derek Morgan checked his gun for his ammunition and once he was certain his magazine was full, he began speaking with the SWAT directors.

“It’s a simple raid. Apprehend anyone in the house and secure Gatsby and anything else like it. Then once that is taken care of, we’ll station members undercover to try to bait out the Unsub-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a gun shot was heard from inside the house.

“Shots fired!” Someone shouted and they stormed the house. Right away they apprehended two people, a young woman and an older man, presumably related. After disarming them and carting them away, shouts of ‘clear’ were heard throughout the house. Derek took a few SWAT members down into the basement of the house. He was surprised by what he found.

He wasn’t surprised by the lab equipment and the vials of Gatsby. No, he was surprised to find a young boy chained to the wall and bleeding out.

He was seated on the floor, with chains suspending his arms. He couldn’t have been over 19 by the look of him. He was bruised and bloody, but the thing that alarmed him the most was that he was banging his head against the wall. Hard.

After a moment, the SWAT members were finished staring. They advanced and that’s when the boy noticed he wasn’t alone anymore.

His eyes were filled with utter terror. More tears peaked out of the corners of his eyes and he tried his best to move away from the strange men and their weapons. Derek noticed his distress worsening.

“Put your guns down and back away from the kid!” Derek yelled. After a moment, the SWAT agents moved back, lowering their weapons. Derek’s gun was already put away. The kid seemed to relax slightly. He tried to pull his knees up to his chest but his right thigh must have been shot, so he just settled for the one knee. He tried to curl up as well as possible as he continued to slam his head against the wall. Silent tears streaming down his face and a pool of blood gathering under his leg.

Morgan didn’t know what to do. But his instincts took over and soon he found himself slowly inching his way closer to the kid.

“Hey, kid. It’s all right, no one is going to hurt you anymore.” Derek said as he crouched a few feet away from the kid. When the kid opened his eyes, they were glazed over in pain and something else Derek didn’t recognize. But he took it as a sign to continue. “My name is Derek Morgan. I work with the FBI. It’s okay now, we’re here to help you.”

He didn’t get any response. The kid just blinked unfocused eyes at him and kept banging his head on the wall, crying. Then Morgan made the mistake of coming closer.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

Spencer’s mind was racing so fast he couldn’t think. When the group of men in black came down with their guns, the logical thing to think was ‘oh the authorities’ right? But no. Spencer started to panic even worse because all he could see were their guns and all he could feel was the agony in his leg. He faintly registered himself hitting his head against the wall, but now that he finally gave in after 6 weeks, he couldn’t stop. It was like everything he tried to hold back during his weeks of captivity were trying to escape now that his body found him in significantly less danger. So he closed his eyes and wished it all to just stop. To go away.

He registered a voice then, talking to him.

“No one is going to hurt you anymore”

He wanted to believe that. He really did but, he didn’t know if he could. He opened his eyes to try and look at the man speaking to him. The first thing his mind was able to register were the three white letters on his bullet-proof vest. FBI. He said something else, but Spencer can’t remember what it was because the next thing to happen was the man coming closer. And then They were coming at him.

“NO! STOP!” He yanked as hard as he could on his cuffs, but like all the times before, they didn’t budge.

After the roaring in his ears subsided, he managed to make out another sound over his hyperventilating.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay, I won’t come any closer. Just breathe, okay? Breathe.”

He took a few short breaths before they evened out into slightly deeper breaths.

“That’s it, nice and easy. It’s just you and me now kid, and I’m not going to hurt you.” True to the man’s words, when Spencer opened his eyes, which he never remembered closing to begin with, it was just the one FBI agent and himself.

He took another, shaky breath, before relaxing the muscles in his stomach

“All right, that’s good. You’re doing great, can you stop hitting your head against the wall for me?” The FBI agent asked.

Could he stop? He didn’t really know. He probably could if he really tried. His body was already exhausted enough. He tried, and he was able to slow it down, then he graduated to just pushing his head against the wall after a few minutes, needing to do something to distract himself from the pain that was his everything..

“Good, good job kid. Now, a friend of mine is gonna come in here with some bolt cutters and we’re gonna get you out of here. Is that okay?” The man asked.

“Is that okay?” Spencer echoed back. Eyes widening, he quickly nodded and then slammed his head back against the wall, just stopping himself from continuing the rhythmic banging of earlier.

Spencer saw one of the man’s eyebrows quirk slightly, but the agent said nothing. He spoke into his comms and after a moment, another man in an FBI vest came into the room.

“All right so, agent Hotchner here is going to get a little close just so he can cut the chains holding you here okay? Then we’ll get you out of here. What’s your name?” The agent asked.

“What’s your name?” Spencer said back.

He was utterly mortified. He didn’t think about it for long though because agent Hotchner came closer with the bolt cutters in hand. He heard the other agent answer his echoed question with “Derek Morgan” but quickly squeezed his eyes tight and went stiff as a board. A few moments later, his arms fell to his sides. He let out a quiet cry of pain, used to the pain of moving his arms after so long suspended over his head though, he powered through and quickly grabbed onto his leg.

He shouldn’t have done that because the pain he felt was 10 times worse. He cried out and slumped against the wall again, breathing heavily. He didn’t have the energy anymore. He was so tired. Just so, so tired.

He watched the two agents move towards him, but he didn’t have the energy anymore to flinch. He watched them talking, he couldn’t tell whether they were talking to him or to each other. The ringing in his ears was back again.

The last thing he sees is agent Morgan grabbing him and carrying him out of Hell.

pt 1| pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 |

#liv's fics #cm #criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jennifer jj jareau #jason gideon #aaron hotchner #angst #pt 3

1 note · View note

bluemoonpunch · 5 years

Text

*Youtuber Voice* Let's Talk... 😩

I went outside today and it was like a ~thing~ and July is a ~thing~ and the Eclipses are a ~thing~ too, so I’m going to talk about me because my Throat Chakra is fucked and one of the biggest blocks I have is that I’m afraid to talk about shit that is about ME.

Basically, I went outside, like out into the backyard, out into nature, even though it was very hot and there were bugs, and I had an accumulative epiphany about all my bullshit and why my bullshit has been so bullshitty lately.

It has a lot to do with my strings being cut. If you’ve gotten a personal reading with me before you might have gotten a long drawn out explanation of how certain cycles of soul progression occur internally and then reflect externally, and along with that we have cycles where we are very obviously being guided by the Universe or our Guides, which is then followed by a time where the SOUL has complete and total control and you are essentially guiding yourself. That’s me right now and it’s really fucking annoying.

When you’re being guided — or ME. When I’m being guided it feels like I’m a puppet and I can literally feel those strings attached to my arms and legs, I can feel myself being pulled here and there, having things shown to me, everything is laid out. It feels like that because my Guides know what I HAVE TO DO, they know the contracts, the mission statements, the purpose, the fate, the destiny, all that shit that I can’t consciously remember and put together on my own. They pick me up and put me down in places but I still have to consciously walk in the door, take the path, say the words, meet the people, whatever. It’s a balance, but when I’m very aware that I’m being guided and it’s very obvious to me that this is going to play out exactly as I’m being shown, I trust it and I go with it.

And that is a new thing for me, tbh. It wasn’t until after my mom died that I was like, oh… that’s a thing. I knew this was going to happen because it had to happen because this is going to shoot me off into a whole new situation that I need to align with. I was really fucking scared about it, I don’t like change, I don’t like new things, I’m an asshole like that, but after a year of hell, I literally had no other choice but to trust it and fully put my faith into what I was being VERY CLEARLY guided to do. I went through all the motions, moved in with my grandparents, got a job, met all these people, worked on my anxiety, and then in a very weird and not at all my doing kind of way people started asking me for tarot readings at work. Then they suggested doing a shop, and it was one of those things that was like whispering in my ear like, “yeah, go with that, you need to do that.”

There was a whole lot of other shit happening within me intuitively, energetically, on a soul level that was really propelling that as well, but when it came down to it I was trusting myself only because I knew someone or something else beyond me had my back. I was being pushed to do certain things, and was being shown that if I did it this would happen and that would happen, and then those things would actually happen. So, in a way there’s almost that kind of curiosity on my end of treating it like an experiment where I was just like if I follow this and actually go through with all these little things with no hesitation, will I actually see the results that they are promising me? And guess what, I did. Literally down to the finest details.

So, I have trust, and I guess even though it sounds cheesy, I have faith and a very strong belief in my ability to get the words of my Guides and move forward with them as my template or my guidelines, my map.

BUT!!!

What the fuck am I supposed to trust and have faith in when they decide to cut the strings because this phase of my ~mission~ or my ~purpose~ is over? Me??? Myself??? I??? Lol, sure, yeah, okay.

Like, no offense to me, but I fucking suck.

I mean, I don’t suck, but like…. >.> You know…

Objectively speaking, if I were to step outside of myself and look at me, I definitely do NOT suck. Like, you guys don’t know me personally, but if you could see where I was just two years ago versus where I am right now you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend what the hell happened. It literally looks like I woke up one day and decided to change my entire life and then I just DID after years and years of not being able to do ANYTHING. From the outside looking in, I fucking rock, I’m the baddest bitch you’re ever going to come across, but from the inside, I see myself as a puppet who just lost it’s strings and is sitting there like, “Oh… I’m a real person now.”

My soul is in charge now and it’s more about what I WANT to do rather than what I HAVE to do, and I don’t know how the fuck to cope with that. I don’t think anyone does. Like, if you think about it, society and shit is really that conscious level puppet master that we all have to deal with, and even if we say we want to break away from it and be our own person, think for ourselves, fend for ourselves, be true individuals, we’d all lose our shit if we didn’t have that map, those guidelines, those milestones, those boxes, and labels.

We can rebel against it all we want but socially and consciously, we want that shit. We really fucking want it because it gives us that feeling of being the puppet, of having those strings picking us up, feeling a bit more weightless because, in some respects, we don’t want to have to think for ourselves because then we don’t have to put the blame on ourselves when shit goes wrong. It’s society that is corrupting us, it’s our parents, it’s religion, bla bla bla, excuses excuses.

So, that’s just a thing that we have, it’s part of being human, but on SOUL level, when the strings are cut, the strings are cut. There’s not another set of strings to pick up and attach yourself to, there’s not a soul college following soul high school, it’s just you, and you’re in charge, and there are no other people, systems, or ideas outside of yourself that can dictate where you go from there, even if on a temporary basis.

And the thing is, when I see that shit for other people in personal readings, it looks amazing because I’m always shown it as them being able to do ANYTHING that they want to do and their Higher Self, their Guides, the whole fucking Universe will lay out every path they can to make sure they get what they want. It’s like a reward for doing the work that you were guided to do. You did what you HAD TO and now you get to do what you WANT TO. That’s fucking insane, that’s amazing.

But ME — I’m just sitting here looking at all this cool stuff I have now, looking at Blue Moon Punch, looking at how I’ve changed, looking at all that I’ve done in such a short amount of time and I’m just ragging on myself like, “lol, I didn’t do this, they did it. My Guides did it. They pulled the strings. I can’t maintain this on my own. It’s just going to fall apart.”

Objectively, however, I’m like, “BITCH????? YOU did the WORK. They gave you the instruction manual but YOU did the fucking WORK.”

And then I question the whole thing like I don’t have the manual anymore, so what? Like, I’m such shit because I disregard the fact that I don’t need a fucking manual anymore specifically because I learned already how to use these tools, how to put things together. Like, that’s the whole thing, that’s the whole reason I get to do what I WANT to do — because I CAN. Like???? Come on, ME, stop being an idiot.

Now, why is this happening? Right? That’s the whole thing that I was curious about when I went outside — Why can’t I function like this? Why am I more anxious about this, why am I so completely fucked over the idea of having to do things on my own in a sense? And really, it’s not about being on my own, because obviously, my Guides are still there, it’s just that I’m in control. I’m the authority in my own life and I’m like LOL about it.

One of the revelations that I had while sitting outside for the first time a million years was that I tend to second guess myself a lot because other people have kind of always forced me to do that in a lot of ways in a lot of different scenarios. Everything in my mind goes back to the word “Brat” because that’s what I was called whenever I ~overly expressed myself~ such as throwing tantrums or hitting people, running away, not wanting to be around people when I was really little.

I know, ME, I know that I was always acting a fucking mess as a little kid because I was being sexually abused by three dudes in our apartment complex while also being severely bullied in school by a bunch of older kids while having no friends. I knew that but having everything I did as a cry for help (which is all a 6-year-old can do honestly) be dismissed as, “she’s just being a brat” really taught me to question my own perception of things. Like, is that kind of stuff really that bad? Am I overreacting? Am I really just being a brat?

Learning that at a very young age around that kind of thing just built up this filter for EVERYTHING else. I was always very hyper-aware of other people, how they were looking at me, how they talked to me, and how they talked about me. I would like test the waters and mention things, see how they react, try to express myself in one way or another, but as you can imagine, I’ve always been a bit fucking weird with my talking to dead people and interest in the occult upon other things.

So, I’m very squished inside myself, I’m very careful about what I show to people, what I say, how I say it, even with my family. ESPECIALLY with my family — they’re all Cancers and Geminis, aka Big Mouth Betty’s who love to talk to everyone about everything.

You see, shit like that that gets pressed into your brain when you’re really young can just fester into this giant thing that touches everything that you experience in life. With the blog, I’m always afraid to be as direct and as clear as I could be specifically because I feel like I’m giving you something personal. I’m giving you my interpretation, I’m giving you my perspective, which I see as potentially being “overdramatic” or “too much” or just flat out wrong.

I trust myself to receive the information but I don’t trust myself to express it in a way that makes everyone else happy, or that makes me look not entitled, not crazy, not a “brat”, even though that’s so far away from the point of it.

Even though I try to keep everything objective, I still have that pride and that need to overcompensate for that insecurity that I feel towards my own validity in all areas of my life. I really can’t help but think of everything that I do as being representative of me as a whole person. Like one reading that I post on the blog defines me for that entire week in my head. That’s all I am to everyone until I post something else. All of my thoughts, words, and actions define my entire being, my entire life, moment to moment — that’s how I see it. I don’t exist anywhere else.

And that’s true for everyone, that’s why we dress up to go places and put on friendly faces and voices for a job interview, that shit matters. But for me, more personally, it almost feels dangerous to come off like “too much” because when I was little being “too much” cost me my entire childhood, my mental and physical health, and my sense of security within myself. I genuinely feel so vulnerable and so at risk every time I post something or say something, talk about anything relating to deeper shit, because I see it as a reflection of me in my entirety, and I see ME as the foundation of everything I built.

Actually, that’s a good way to describe it. I feel like I took all the bad bits, everything I hated, and I turned it into the dirt and I built all of this stuff up on top of it. I put myself underneath all of this awesome and righteous shit, and every time I put something out, every time I say anything to anyone, I feel like I’m exposing my foundations. I feel like I’m giving you the opportunity to just start hacking away at my foundations with scrutiny and criticism, which in my mind will bring everything crumbling down. Like, in my head, one bad review on my shop is going to destroy everything and I’ll have no job and I’ll be back living in horrible conditions. Or I’ll do a predictive reading and it doesn’t turn out the way I said it would and suddenly all my validity is gone and everything else that I have put out is null and void.

Someone sent in an ask about why I keep things so vague, and there was much more to it than that, but I was focused on that bit today while I was outside, and I was real with myself about it. I usually say that I keep things vague because I want to respect the privacy of the celebrity and idol’s that I do readings on, and that is true, but there’s some shit that I leave out specifically because it’s too specific, it’s too on the nose, and I go back to that feeling of, “well, if I’m wrong, I’m fucked.” My credibility is on the line, my foundations are at risk, red alert, shut it down.

And when I think about it, that’s such a gross and weird manipulative tactic. Like, it’s not so dramatic where I’m literally feeding you guys bullshit, but I do hit a wall on occasion where I pull back and have to either completely remove things or paint them in a way where I pretend to be confused by it so that if I’m right, lucky me, if not, then, well, I just wasn’t seeing it right. That’s literally so fucking weird to think about, but that’s what I do. I can guarantee you, if there’s a part in a reading on the blog where I say “I don’t know how to explain it” or “This confused me,” it probably didn’t, I was just afraid of being as blatant about it because it was probably coming through really, really clearly and I was like, lol no.

But see, in personal readings I don’t really do that because it’s one-on-one, and I don’t feel so exposed. There’s that whole aspect of consent as well where the person paid for a reading, their energy is open, I’m open, we’re exchanging information and it feels a lot more stable, and I feel like I — ME — can trust THEM to not rip me apart. Whereas doing a reading for the blog, I’m putting someone else who has not given me concent on blast to people who could rip us BOTH apart. So, there’s that weird filter that I put up and that they (the celebrity or idol) put up because we’re both going in like, lol, we’re not safe, but let's see if we can help each other out here.

Like, I’m such a sensitive bitch omg. Criticism to me is so much more than just being told that I’m wrong or that something isn’t as good as it could be, but I still don’t see it as an attack necessarily because I never feel the need to defend myself. I’ll defend myself only when it comes to someone telling me that I’m not doing the work. Like if you come at me and try to tell me I don’t spend enough time on these readings or that I don’t put any effort in or I don’t really care about it, I’ll fucking clap back so fast, like watch the fuck out. You can NOT tell me that I don’t do the work, but you absolutely could tell me that my work is shit and pointless, and I will absolutely believe you.

Legit, I worked three weeks on those monthly readings, and I was so excited about them because it would be something really cheap that anyone could get. They were really detailed, and I used a new deck with them, and it was going to be the new THING. Like, I was really hyping myself up and I was like, yeah, this is going to be great because it’s the eclipses and everyone’s going to really get something from these, and since I’ll be making a bit of money from that I can take a break from personal readings and get things around for the blog and do some work. Like I was really out here living on cloud fucking nine with that shit, and then I LET SOMEONE tell me they weren’t worth the money and that I was a bad person for thinking I deserved to be compensated for the work that I put into those.

Like, I just LET SOMEONE tell me what was up in a matter of two minutes whereas my SOUL was telling me what’s up for three weeks prior. The second I felt like I was being called a “brat” I folded so quick, like all of that build up just went away because I LET SOMEONE put me back in that headspace.

If we really boil that down, that’s why I’m shit and that’s why I don’t think I can handle being in charge. It’s so easy to completely throw me off because in a lot of ways, I’m still stuck in the past, still insecure, still very willing to let people tell me what I am and who I am, and that’s not okay. And I know I have to process it, I have to literally dig up those foundations, get all that shit out of the soil and let it go, but I’m like so stupidly aware of my vibration and my soul progression and where I am and what I’m trying to do, that I just get so scared that if I go back to that, if I face it AGAIN, that I’m just going to get sucked in and then there’s no going back. It’s all going to crumble again and I just won’t have it in me to build it all back up on my own without the strings, without the guidance.

Like I would give anything to feel the way I felt when we were working on the Soul Body stuff for BTS and when I was really pulling together parts of the soul group. Like I was in my element then and I really felt good about what I was doing and I wasn’t so afraid to put stuff out there, but that was only because I was being guided to do so. I was in that state of pure trust in what I was being shown and it was being validated by how people started to find the blog and how everything played out with the healing, and the results of it. Like it was trust and validation back to back, non-stop, but now I’m in a phase where I have to learn to trust and validate myself on my own.

I have so many ideas and plans for BMP, all of which sprang up FROM MY FUCKING SOUL a month or so ago when I felt those strings get cut and I KNOW they are things that I WANT to do, and I feel so good about them, and the monthly readings were one of them, but I get so in my head and I get so nervous about what other people are going to think, how am I going to look, how am I going to fuck this all up?

So, bAsICaLlY, I want to experiment again, as in doing what I did in the second half of 2018 where I completely put my faith in my Guides to guide me, but this time around really go with my soul. Like full on, whatever gives me that excited, tight chest, adrenalin kind of feeling, I’m going to do everything in my power to pursue and see it through. And since I can get in my head about shit, I’m only holding myself to it until the end of the year (and hopefully shit will have turned out well enough that I’ll just be in that headspace well into 2020 as well).

I invite you guys to do that as well, even if it’s just a little bit. Pay attention to your SOUL. Whenever you get one of those ideas or you come across something that makes you excited. Like, just that kind of shit that makes your heart race and immediately floods your brain with inspiration and images of opportunities and abundance, and all that kind of stuff — pursue it. We, as people in society, are so quick to shut things like that down because it’s considered childish to be that excited about something, or we think of certain things as being impossible or out of reach, and just… WHY?

When you feel shit like that, when it’s like about to all explode out of your chest, that’s your SOUL. Your SOUL is reacting to you finally, on a conscious level, catching something that it’s been throwing at you for days, weeks, months, or even years. If it feels like too much or something that you can’t do, keep in fucking mind that there’s not a damn thing that is within reach or easy to do for anyone ever. The only thing that’s really scary is the idea of doing something outside of your comfort zone, and what’s outside of your comfort zone is what’s outside of that map, it’s anything that removes your strings.

None of us want to live with strings but sometimes it’s necessary, but when you have the opportunity to cut them off, even in one area of your life, try to embrace it. Try to move with that feeling and DO IT. Again, I’m presenting this challenge for myself only for the last 6 months of the year, and just imagine how things can change in that amount of time. In 2017, within three months alone, I went from living in a roach-infested house with no running water and not a dime to my name to living in my own apartment (which is owned by my grandparents by whatever) with a job and money coming in. Shit really can change like that overnight even if you’ve been down and low for a long, long, long time.

Fully 100% I’m using this post as a way to kind of commit myself to this, to honoring myself and to putting my own inner guidance and awareness over external factors that may only exist in order to bring me down and stop me from moving forward. I really do want you guys to try it as well and I want you to check out the monthly readings (available here) because a lot of them did have stuff regarding changes and really stepping into your power, and I think they still stand up for what they are.

In addition to that, I have two videos here to share from Aluna Ash and Olivia of OJC Astrology. These videos both came out today and they both really resonated with me after my little outdoor escapade of self-awareness and other fuckery. I think at least one of them will hit home with every person that read this far down.

And that’s all I guess, thanks for reading. :)

youtube

32 notes · View notes

angstytieflingbard · 5 years

Text

Hero’s Journey: Chapter Six - Unforeseen Simulation Joint II

Summary: Link learns a little more about himself, though he doesn’t realize it yet. Midoriya is nearly killed, but the heroes manage to intercept in the nick of time.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence

A/N: You know, I was sort of considering having him, you know, interact with the plot, but I didn’t want to change everything up this early. Also, I really, really wanted to get the ball rolling on him learning more about who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing. So if you wanted him in the thick of things, sorry! I promise he’ll be getting into stuff later. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Villains have breached the USJ!”

Link wasn’t exactly sure what had happened immediately after that. He remembered Yaoyorozu and Todoroki talking (the alarm systems were cut, or at least the dichromatic boy thought so), some sort of talking purple mist, Bakugou and Kirishima rushing for it, and then he’d suddenly tumbled backwards like his feet had been kicked from underneath him, vision suddenly obscured by dark purple.

And then he’d landed on his ass in the middle of a forest.

He was sure he was still in USJ, he could still see the supports and glass ceiling of the dome above, but he was far enough that he couldn’t hear any fighting. Or really anything for that matter. It was entirely too quiet for a forest, no sounds of animals or even leaves rustling, just the faintest sounds of the grass under his feet and armor pieces brushing softly together as he moved through the brush.

It was silent save for him. Until it wasn’t.

Something small and red tore through the bushes at high speed, shrieking and squealing like a pig. It stumbled right into him, and they both froze, staring at each other in surprise. The thing was only about half his size, and it looked like some sort of goblin, with a comically large pig nose, beady eyes, and wrinkly, mottled red skin, with sharp claws clutching at a crude wooden club.

‘Bokoblin’ His brain supplied unhelpfully. The staring contest lasted only half a moment longer, and it was shrieking again, swinging its club around like a bat. Link scrambled back and grabbed his staff, extending it to spear length and jabbing at the bokoblin as he got to his feet.

It only took a few hits before it fell to the ground, exploding into a cloud of reddish-purple smoke. As the smoke dissipated, Link noticed a small pile of teeth and horns, presumably from the bokoblin.

‘Shit. Did I just kill it?’ He thought with a wince, letting out a low breath. ‘To be fair, it did attack me, but…’ He poked at the pile with his staff, and glanced around half-expecting more to jump at him out of the brush.

“Hmph. You were never so hesitant to kill monsters, before.” A voice resonated from somewhere behind him, and he spun, already dropping into a defensive stance with his spear.

It was the man from before. He was possibly more terrifying up close, tall and formidable even without the death stare currently locked onto him. At this distance Link could see that his armor wasn’t quite as protective as he’d assumed at first glance, a mix of brightly colored cloth and some type of golden plating, matching the jewelry and piercings which adorned the mans face. He looked young, too, in his twenties at the latest, though Link wasn’t sure why that particular fact felt odd to him.

Meanwhile, the man seemed to be sizing Link up as well, taking in his hero costume and weapon with something that looked like disapproval. His eyes narrowed after a long moment, expression turning somewhat thoughtful.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” He asked. Link hesitated.

‘Ganon… The Calamity.’ Finally his mind gave him something useful, and he frowned at how right it seemed, how familiar, though he was sure he’d never heard the name before.

“Ah, not well, right?” The man, Ganon, chuckled patronizingly, taking a step closer. Link raised his staff threateningly, and his smile seemed genuine for a moment, like the very notion of Link attacking now was funny to him. “I used to be just like you. Soft, hopeful, kind, weak.” He spit the word with malice. “Living in a world where everything and nothing were familiar to me, from the sky, to the sea, to the people around me. But then I was… enlightened.”

He took another step forward, grabbing onto the staff before Link could even think to move, and yanked it - and Link - towards him. Ganon’s other hand curled into his collar and lifted him, forcing Link to grip onto his wrist to anchor himself.

“If I could kill you here, I would.” Ganon hissed, face twisting into a sneer. “But I need you alive if I want to find her, and believe me, I do.”

His expression morphed again, and Link caught a momentary glimpse of something dark and manic in his aureate eyes as he was lifted just a little higher.

“I might leave you a little challenge, though… Nothing you won’t survive, if you’re even half as good with a sword as you were. Doesn’t that sound fun? Getting reintroduced to some old friends-” Before Ganon could do anything, however, a beam of nearly blinding lavender light cut between them, just barely grazing the taller man’s skin.

Link reacted immediately, kicking out and catching Ganon in the jaw, pushing away from him and dropping to the ground. The villain thankfully dropped his staff, too, which he scooped up as he got to his feet, sprinting by his savior and grabbing his arm as he passed, forcing him to come along with.

It was Aoyama, expression somewhat nauseous-looking from the sudden transition between using his quirk to sprinting through the forest at record speed. The frenchman didn’t complain though, likely just as happy as Link to be getting as far away from the menacing man as possible.

Link slowed only when the brick ground of the courtyard came into view, finally able to hear what sounded like a fairly intense fight. He pushed Aoyama down into a cluster of bushes with what little gentleness he could manage in his adrenaline-fueled state, smothering the yelp the other blonde let out with a quick hand over his mouth. He settled over him, concealing the two of them in the foliage as well as he could as he listened for any sign of having been followed. After a long moment, he finally released Aoyama, relatively satisfied with their current safety, and all but melted into the surprisingly un-prickly bush.

“Link, who… who was that?” Aoyama murmured to him, usually placid smile strained to the point of near nonexistence. “He seemed like he knew you.”

Link shook his head a couple times, giving a few vague signs he knew the boy likely wouldn’t understand. His friend sighed.

“Si tu les dis…” There was a pause, silent but for the sounds of the fight in the courtyard, a mix of yelling and the sound of stone cracking filtering over to them. Link sat up slowly, turning his gaze towards the fighting.

Their view was still mostly blocked by foliage, but he could make out what looked like All Might and some type of bird-headed muscle-beast. He frowned and glanced at Aoyama.

“I’ll be right behind you.” He said, reassuring despite the slight hesitancy in his tone. Link nodded and climbed out of the bush, inching towards the courtyard. They passed the treeline quickly enough, and slipped around the edge of the battlefield as they caught sight of three of their classmates hovering near the stairs, two more going up with a battered Aizawa being carried between them. Link paused at the sight of his teacher, half-dead and unconscious, and spared a glance back at the monstrous form currently fighting All Might as he started moving again, Aoyama practically clinging to him as they reached the group at the bottom of the stairs.

“Link! Aoyama!” Kirishima exclaimed, the first to notice them. “We weren’t sure where you ended up. You guys good?” He asked. Bakugou cut in before Aoyama could respond for the both of them.

“You look like shit, both of you. Did you spend this whole time rolling around in a bush or something?” They glanced at each other at that, missing the momentary change in the other three’s expressions at their somewhat fearful gazes.

“Or something.” Aoyama said with a tone of finality. The explosive boy grit his teeth, but backed off, attention refocusing on the fight. From this angle, Link could see Midoriya, too, propped up on his elbows and staring at All Might and the weird muscled man fight with a look of horror on his face. He gasped, taking an almost involuntary step towards the fight. Hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back.

“Absolutely fucking not, dumbass Gremlin. He shouldn’t even be in there, I’m not letting you anywhere near that shit.” Bakugou practically growled at him, and he blinked.

‘Since when did he care?’ Link thought, but took a couple steps back anyway. He was let go as Bakugou finally moved away from him, seemingly satisfied for the moment with his compliance.

Link glanced around, noticing Aoyama heading up the stairs to help carry Aizawa, and Todoroki eyeing him somewhat suspiciously. He returned that look, and the dichromatic boy turned away wordlessly. He turned back towards the fight too, just in time to watch All Might blast his opponent out of the USJ straight through the domed glass ceiling. He blinked, brows raised in surprise.

He knew All Might was strong, but that…

“Is this a comic book or something?” Kirishima muttered next to him, seemingly just as in shock. “It’s like he nullified the shock absorption... His brute strength is crazy.”

“What insane power… Does that mean he rushed at him so fast he couldn’t regenerate?” Bakugou murmured next. Todoroki only glowered, eyes fixed on the hole in the dome.

On the far side of the courtyard, near Midoriya, the one covered in hands seemed to throw a tantrum, stomping like a child just told he’d have to wait a while to keep playing his favorite game. The tantrum stopped as abruptly as it started, the blue-haired man turning slowly to the green-haired teen only a few meters away from him.

He lunged forward, and Link gasped, already knowing there was nothing he could do even as his feet started to move, and-

A series of gunshots rang out, and the villain crumpled to the ground. Link turned, surprised, and there at the doors of the USJ were at least a dozen heroes, headed up by Snipe, pistols still smoking from his opening shots.

Even with the two main villains disappearing behind him, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

It was over, for now.

5 notes · View notes

ot7-hoes · 5 years

Text

Admin: Bunny

Word count: 3479

Summary: Even if you can't see him, Yoongi is always watching over you.

He knew he was doomed. The second he sat down with the paper work for his assigned case, he knew he was about to have the worst time of his existence. Her name was scribbled on the top corner, her stats, parents names. Ages, occupations. Where she lived, what gender, sexuality, everything, scribbled onto this small file. So far it didn’t seem too bad, just another lost soul needing put back on the right track. That was, until he saw the block red stamp, the one reserved for full-time cases, the one reserved for life long angels, ‘Problem child.’ There it was, the reason he was called, the reason he had been ripped away from Czara, the loud, energetic girl with the need to lash out. He had JUST gotten her into self defence classes before being summoned back.

‘He can stay as long as he wants, it’s nice to see him again after all this time.’ She smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her daughters forehead before leaving to tell Taehyung what the fuck just happened.

‘Really? A problem child? I already have a case.’ He whined, throwing the file down and crossing his arms. He pouted like Czara used to do when her mum told her to get dressed for classes. Yoongi used to have to coax her, promising they would play hide and seek when she came home. He smiled thinking back to her, she was a good kid. Even though she couldn’t see him anymore, he couldn’t help but feel sad for leaving her, like she might notice he was gone.

‘We already have someone to step in for case 937-‘

‘Czara, she isn’t a case number she is a little girl. Use her name.’ He defended, sometimes he really couldn’t be bothered with Jin.

‘Right, sorry, I forget how easily you form attachments. We have someone to step in for Czara, Uhhh Jungkook I think his name was.’ Yoongi rolled his eyes, Kookie, baby Kook was really about to take over the hot headed child? He snorted out a breathy laugh, shaking his head picking up the folder once more.

`Why me?’ He questioned, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway, angels needed their egos stroked too.

‘She’s a real skamp Yoongi, and you’re the best we have.’ He smirked tilting his head, signing his name on the bottom of the file, handing the one slip of paper back to Jin, he was going to need that file if she really was that bad.

‘I love hearing you say that, don’t call me back this time.’ He warned, stepping out the door heading to her address.

For a while Yoongi thought the file may have been an exaggeration. That the child couldn’t be as bad as the file showed. Things were always worse on paper right? However, walking into the house, he was proven wrong.

She couldn’t be more than two, throwing toys around in a whirlwind of temper tantrums and pure anger.

‘Y/N PUT THAT DOWN THIS INSTANT! ’ Her father screamed, shaking a warning finger at her. She regarded him for a measly second before launching it towards his face. Yoongi smirked, enjoying the attitude of this child. The young girl shot her head around to the small humorous noise he had let out, in surprise and anger, she picked up another toy throwing it in Yoongis direction. The sphere hit him on the chest, he stumbled backwards knocking the vase off the table.

‘Ouch, why you little-‘

‘THAT’S IT!’ Her father screamed, throwing his paper down, grabbing her under her arms lifting her. Yoongi watched the scene before him play out, hoping this wasn’t going where he thought it was. He carried her to her room, putting her in the cot and closing the door behind him. Yoongi looked at the closed door, then back at the crib. He could see her eyes watering, the beginning of a meltdown happening.

‘Hey hey, no need to cry little one! I know you’re stuck in there but want to play a game?’ He whispered, not like he had to, no one else could see him. She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve nodding animatedly.

‘Your fault.’ She mumbled, after the game was long over, she lay in her crib, trying her hardest to sleep. He stalled playing with her little hands, frowning.

‘You smashed it. Your fault.’ She yawned, he smiled nodding his head to the side slightly.

‘You’re right, I’m sorry. Off to sleep with you.’ He hummed, singing the nursery rhyme Czaras mum used to hum to her.

‘SHE WOULDN’T STOP WHAT DID YOU WANT ME TO DO?!’ A voice screamed, making him sit up. He rubbed his eyes, checking on her before he left the room.

‘Oh I don’t know Peter, how about you take care of your daughter instead of locking her in a room all FUCKING DAY!’ The woman screamed, assuming this was her mother he sat on the stairs watching.

‘I never wanted this Leah, you know that.’ He spoke, bitterness lacing his voice, Yoongi hated her father. Leah wiped her tears, unaware she had been crying, Yoongi stood up defensively.

‘Well this is what you have, accept it or leave.’ She whispered, hurt filtering through her voice. She turned on her heel, making her way to her daughters room. Yoongi stood for a moment, watching her father. He swayed for a bit, genuinely thinking about leaving before sitting back in his chair, picking back up his paper and ignoring the crying of his daughter.

This case was going to be a lot harder than he once believed.

She was 6 before she stopped seeing him. She woke up that morning, ready to tell him about her dream, but he was nowhere to be found. He rubbed her back while she cried that morning, not like she could feel it, or hear his comforting words. This was just as hard for him as it was for her, he had warned her that one day she would stop seeing him. That one day she would be too old to remember him, that it may be upsetting for a while but she would get used to it eventually. He told her he would always be here, but it’s not like she would ever remember that either.

Yoongi can recall vividly when her attitude changed back, she had been bearable for a while, whilst she could see him. However, when she was too old to visualise him she regressed, taking her anger out on everyone and everything. Secretly she hoped this would make him come back, that he would appear again and tell her to stop being a little shit. It never worked, but that didn’t stop her blaming him every time she did something wrong.

‘What did I tell you?’ Her mother spoke, the tone of her voice making her feel a whole foot shorter. She rolled her eyes crossing her arms, huffing out a breath before speaking.

‘Don’t call Jimin a butthole, it’s not a nice word and I shouldn’t know it.’ She recited like a robot, her mother got down to her level, tipping her chin up so she looked in her eyes.

‘Exactly, now I want you to go up to your art desk, draw him a nice picture, and apologise.’ Her eyes widened, no way in HELL was she drawing that raw chicken breast a picture! For free! She opened her mouth to protest but her mother placed a finger over her own lips, shushing her.

‘No buts, now go.’ She demanded, standing back to her feet. Storming away she muttered to herself.

‘This is all your fault, you taught me that word. You’re an idiot Yoongi.’ Yoongi tutted, throwing himself down on her princess Jasmine sheets before replying.

‘I may have taught you it but, that doesn’t mean you have to say it.’ He watched her draw out the picture. It was pretty good for a six year old, he would admit. She scribbled in the background, blue blending into bright green before drawing her and Jimin. She was handing him the card scowl drawn on her face, a big arrow pointing to Jimins bottom. Yoongi did everything in his power that day to get her to remove that part.

‘Sorry I called you a butthole, even though you kind of are. Tea is better than you are.’ He laughed out loud, knowing she meant to spell Tae, he giggled fondly at the young girl beside him before she ran off to give Jimin the card.

Problem child my ass.

11 was a hard time for her, even harder for Yoongi. She was beginning a phase, a gothic kind of emo phase. The children Yoongi had worked with before NEVER went through a phase, he requested a meeting with Jin in hopes he would change the cases.

‘Jin, please. Give me a new one I can’t do this.’ He begged, practically on his knees. Jin laughed, watching his favourite guardian grovel.

‘I can’t change your case Yoongi, like I said, she needs you.’ He let out a scream of protest before slamming his head on the desk.

‘I don’t know how to work through an EMO PHASE SHE JUST LISTENS TO PEOPLE SCREAMING AND STUFF. What if she starts, you know. I can’t protect her from her inner troubles. I can’t sit and watch that happen.’ He pleaded, worrying for her.

‘That isn’t in her future, she will get over this when she gets into boys. Here have a handbook!’ Jin spoke, easing his worries ever so slightly, but a handbook? What the fuck.

He looked down at the book, the title making him cock his eyebrow and grimace. ‘How to get them through a phase: a handbook for dummies’ He glared at Jin before taking the book and beaming himself right back down to her bedroom. The familiar sound of screaming and heavy beats attacked him as he did, rolling his eyes at the CD player. Cracking open his book he sat in the corner of the room scowling, she danced around the room, throwing her head about in some strange cult dance.

‘Y/N, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO TURN THAT SHIT DOWN!’ Her father screamed stomping up the stairs, she bolted towards the player, shutting the music off completely. He barged in through the door, knocking Yoongi’s book out of his hand.

‘Rude ass...’ He muttered, snatching the book back trying to find his page.

‘Sorry dad.’ She mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She was never a timid or shy young girl, seeing her cowering like this unnerved him.

‘You’re honestly such a pain in my arse, and what’s with this shit in your hair?’ He spoke, lifting the blue streaks of hair closer to his face, pulling her towards him at the same time. She yelped in pain causing Yoongi to stand up protectively. He did everything in his power to bring her mother home from the neighbours, to have her enter the house quietly, to have her see this and realise what a shit face her husband was.

14 is finally when her phase broke, she began dating, started to like pop music, which saved Yoongi money on earplugs. He thought he would be happy when it ended, when she got into boys, but she just became sassy, rude and of course she had to pick literally the WORST men.

‘You’re really going after that scumbag?!’ He yelled exasperated, other guardian angels in the high-school turning in pity as he waved his hands in her face.

‘Y/N Yoo-hoo! Oh my god this is insanity.’ He muttered. She giggled at Namjoons joke, trying far too hard for him to like her.

‘See you later yea? How bout we meet up tonight?’ He spoke, placing his hand in hers, swaying it slightly. She looked at their adjoined hands as did Yoongi, he scoffed as she blushed nodding.

‘Great, I’ll meet you at 7 my house?’ She bit her lip agreeing, watching him walk away.

‘Bet you hate me huh?’ She muttered under her breath, opening her locker. He looked at her strangely before sighing.

‘Hell yeah, fucking loser. Out of all the maniacs you could pick in this school he’s it huh?’ He spoke sighing, she chuckled to herself shaking her head.

‘Wish you were here Yoongi, I miss you teaching me bad words.’ He rolled his eyes. He loved the way she still spoke to him, so fondly, it was the main reason he stuck around so much.

‘You don’t need my help with that, you know all the naughty words you fiend.’

‘So?! How did it go?!’ Her friend squealed, running up to the locker.

‘I’m meeting him at his house!’ They jumped up and down squealing, Yoongi threw his hands to his ears covering them promptly, fucking teenagers.

‘You better bring... Uh you know’ Her friend nudged, causing Yoongis face to fall, she didn’t mean...

‘I can’t, my mum would find it. Do you have one?’ Her friend rolled her eyes, pulling a small wrapper out of her pocket placing it in her hand. No way, no fucking way. That was NOT about to happen.

She walked to his house, conversing with herself along the way, well she was talking to Yoongi but no one had to know that.

‘You know I’m not going to... You know.’ He turned his head to look at her, walking along side her.

‘I’m not ready, Jesus I’m not even 15 yet! I know he’s older, I know you probably don’t approve but he’s nice to me. He won’t force me right?’ She mumbled, trying to not look like she was talking to herself. Yoongi shrugged, not 100% sure what was going to happen tonight. The only worry would be if he saw a particular demon.

As if by chance, they hit his house, lust demon perched in the second floor window, looking down at the two of them.

‘Come upstairs?’ Namjoon spoke putting his hand out for her, she blushed following him upstairs.

‘Out of all the boys you pick, you pick this idiot with a literal LUST DEMON?!?’ Yoongi screeched, flailing his arms dramatically. The lust demon pouting in his direction.

‘Wow, low blow dude, I have a job to do as well!’ it took all his power that night to get the demon away, to make him promise to leave her innocence alone.

At 18 Namjoon broke up with her. To say Yoongi was surprised it lasted that long would be an understatement, he was astounded. Really the boy was a perfect gentleman most of the time. He held her hand through seeing her dad again, told her to take care of herself daily. Said I love you first, helped her through her periods and comforted her through the first time.

Things Yoongi would never understand was how she let him make her conscious of what she wore, how she went on the pill because he didn’t like condoms. Oh and fuck knows why she called him daddy in bed, for weeks Yoongi couldn’t look her in the eye, knowing that was more than he needed to know.

‘So what happened?’ Her friend spoke, rubbing her back from the right while Yoongi soothed from the left.

‘He found out something, and couldn’t deal with it.’ Yoongi let his hand stop abruptly, there was no way. He placed a hand on her stomach, feeling the fast but light heartbeat, he shook his head. How could he not see this coming, he had prevented it multiple times so far, what made it slip his mind this time.

‘But you’re on the pill right?’ She sobbed harder, Yoongi really racking his brain for an answer, before it hit him like a truck.

‘The condom night.’

‘I ran out, he said he would wear a condom for one night. I guess he just, didn’t.’

‘Fuck my guardian angel.’ The tattoo read, he glared at it for a whole 30 seconds, if he tried hard enough maybe it would evaporate.

‘That’s really what you want on your body? Wow what a good example you’re setting for your daughter.’ He sassed.

‘Hey its not that bad I guess, it could be worse! I’m Hoseok, by the way.’ The voice spoke, startling Yoongi. Yes he had talked to other guardians before, none had ever popped up like this before. He frowned, shaking the bright angels hand before turning back to her, defacing her body.

‘How old is yours?’ Spoke the angel sitting cross legged on the bench beside her.

’22, you?’ He answered wincing in pain at the same time she did, the tattoo artist smirking shyly at her.

‘Tell me if it gets too much I’ll stop.’ He reassured, causing Yoongi to smile ever so slightly.

‘He’s 22 also, ridiculous they still seem to need us at this age!’ He bantered, throwing his hands exasperatedly over his head. Yoongi snickered slightly, he liked this guardian, he was funny.

‘Yep well, she was a problem child.’ He muttered, not expecting the other to hear it.

‘Hey so was mine! What’s her name again?’ Yoongi squinted slightly, same age, same town, same case. Why didn’t he recognise them? He spoke your name as more of a question, watching the angel for a reaction, his eyes widened.

‘Dude no way! That’s Taehyung! They didn’t speak but she was friends with Jimin. Man did Jimin have a PHAT crush on her, then she dated that Joon guy and they stopped talking.’ Yoongi frowned, coming to terms with all this information.

‘Where is Jimin now?’ He questioned, recalling not seeing him in years, not even about town.

‘Don’t know man, he moved for college and never came back, him and Tae really lost touch too, sucks if I’m honest.’ He spoke, touching things he probably shouldn’t be.

‘So why do you hate your so called guardian angel then?’ A voice questioned between them, Yoongis eyes shot towards them both, looking for any funny business.

‘The shit bag left when I was six, and my life went to shit from there.’ She grumbled, looking the young man in the eye, he looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him.

‘That sounds fair I guess, I feel like if you have one they never really leave though. Always lurking, protecting you from the big stuff rather than the little stuff you get me? I feel like they never leave until they think you’re ready to be alone.’ She frowned at him, eventually letting a little laugh escape her lips.

‘well if he’s still here I bet he’s glaring at me, trying to find a way to make you stop. Probably thinking about what my daughter will think.’ She mumbled to herself mainly, Tae stopped tattooing her to look at her for a minute, realisation washing across his face. He screamed her name, startling her ever so slightly.

‘Sorry, sorry that was very loud. It’s me, Taehyung!’ He spoke, more controlled this time, barely above a whisper, as if he was telling her a secret, like no one could know who he was. Yoongi found this fully amusing, he couldn’t decide if the guardian had rubbed off on him or if he influenced his guardian. Either way, they were practically the same personality.

‘Tae?! OH MY GOD HI!’ She screamed back, both guardians covering their ears, Tae giggling happily.

He never thought he would attend your wedding, never thought you would still need him at this point.

‘Excuse me Mr, but why are you crying?’ A small voice questioned from beside him, whispering so no one heard her.

He looked down, her face the spitting image of hers when she was that young. He smiled fondly at her, moving her dark locks out her eyes.

‘I never thought I’d see the day your mummy was this happy.’ He admitted candidly, the little girl giggled into her hand, it was so adorable Yoongi swears he felt his heart leap.

‘You’re silly, she’s always been happy!’ oh those Rose tinted glasses, how sweet.

He returned months later, assigned a new case, one close to home, one he hoped for but never asked for.

‘Rosie, nice to see you again!’ He greeted cheerfully, the little girl running towards his body.

‘Yoonglie!’ She shrieked, her mother turning her head in alarm.

‘What did you say baby?’ She questioned, not quiet sure she heard correctly.

‘Yoongi is here to play! Mummy can he stay?!’ She begged, holding his hand, pulling him closer. Her eyes watered slightly, a fond smile gracing her lips.

#bts #kim taehyung #bts imagine #bts taehyung #bts hoseok #bts jungkook #park jimin #smut #kpop smut #min yoongi #bts yoongi

22 notes · View notes

fairyshuuu · 5 years

Text

Growl pt1

Genre: Fluff (will contain smut/angst in future chapters) Length: 4.5k Pairing: Jongdae x reader Other member’s stories ✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

part 1. part 2.

You run your fingers through your hair and stuff your keys in your jacket pocket, wind nipping at your legs. Leafs of the trees along the sidewalk ruffle loudly, and a thick choking smog scent is ever present. Even in July, the air is still cold this early in the morning. Despite all the complaints you could think of, you like the city. You like the liveliness and the fact that you get a new shot whenever you need it.

The air though, is a little much for someone with a sensitive nose like you. It's overwhelmingly gross, and you don't think you'll ever get used to it. You’ve lived in cities bigger than this one for long enough to at least appreciate that there’s small parks littered all in between the houses. A last remnant of the wild nature that used to bloom underneath the stone buildings. Strange how much you still long for the open woods, after being away from them for so long.

Moving through rows of people who all stand much taller than you, your eyes shoot across the street as if automatically. A pale man, tall, with pitch black hair. Your skin twitches almost uncomfortably, and with a knowing gaze he meets your eyes. He seems inconspicuous enough, and you know no human would ever notice him, but you're no human and sensing another is very easy. He disappears quickly, barely sparing you a thought, and so you step into the tram without a second glance. Passing through most likely, since most don't like spending time in the city like you do. Too many people, too many chances to get recognized. But, you think, taking a seat in the plush chairs, way more chances to just blend in and be normal.

Being a lone wolf, literally, isn't fun. It is not easy, and if you could do it again maybe you wouldn't have left your pack at the age of 17 to see the world. But you did, and now this is the life you've accepted. You sip your coffee slowly, sinking away into the mass of people heading to work. There's a lot of rich people here, you've noticed. CEO's, lawyers, men and women dressed in fancy clothes. If the city is just rich, or the people in it are, you're not quite sure. Your latest apartment is quite small, and definitely crappy, but it's cheap and that's what counts. The tram stops, making most of the properly dressed people get off. Here is where you've sensed some others of your kind before, when scoping out this city.

You're quite sure a pack lives around this side of town, down in the woods a few miles away. Not that you're going to go and check. They would just chase you out of their territory and you'd be forced to move again. The tram goes on further, away from the rich city center and towards the edges of town, where you spend most of your days. You drink the last of your coffee, and look at the beautiful views that pass. You really like this city. And you'd do anything to stay out of other's radar, for once, just living the life you've always hoped for. A normal one.

***

"Excuse you?!" A sharp voice yelps, right next to your ear. If you weren't a nice person, you would have smacked the bitch across the diner. A growl fights to make it's way up your throat, but you hold it down, and give the woman a forced smile. The bleached middle aged wench across you glares up at you with a huff, and shoves the plate in your direction. "I've been coming here for 7 years and not once have I had such a rude waitress. How dare you?!" Her blue eyes flick all over the plate, and back at you.

You swallow, fisting your hands into the skirt that's tied around your waist and blink at her a couple of times, before repeating yourself, artificial smile plastered on. "You asked for a veggie burger, but without any dairy, fat or salt. You wanted no sauce, no carrot or cucumber, and onions were too oily here. That's what I told the chef, and that's what he gave."

The woman points her manicured nail at your face, and then at the plate, which has a mountain of lettuce and nothing else. "I'm lactose intolerant! You are making fun of my diseases, aren't you, you rude scoundrel?!" Biting your lip, you have to look away. Did she just call you a scoundrel? "I want to talk to the manager!" The wench screeches, all up in your face when she stands up, and gives you a victorious eyebrow raise.

Of course, the asshole she calls for shouts your name right that instant, like a cosmic joke of the universe.

"Sunny!" His voice raises above all other noise in the room. "Get your ass over here."

You just sigh, rub your hand over your face once and give the blonde witch a smile. "He'll be right over, ma'am."

Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you stomp away, and into the back room, where the angry owner of the place is. He doesn't acknowledge you, keeping his eyes on the paperwork in front of him. His face is sweaty, even though this room is far from too warm, and the smell almost makes you want to throw up. "What the fuck is the problem this time?" He sighs, penning something down on a blue post-it note.

"Someone had a complicated order, and is not happy with what the chef made for her, Sir." You start, anger now morphing to annoyance. Knowing him, it'll be your fault again, even if you just brought out the plate you were served.

"What time do you get off, Sunny?"

You frown and look at the clock. 5:54. "At six, Sir. I've been here since 7 am."

He hums and puts his pen down, clasping his fat hands together on the desk. "You're working until nine."

Mouth dropping open, you dig your nails into your own palms, feeling them dig sharply into your skin. If you weren't a nice person, you would have smacked him across the diner as well. "But Sir-" Your last tram comes at 8:57, so you’d have to walk all the way back home.

"And next time I have complaints about you, I'm throwing your pathetic excuse of an employee out, understood?!" He lifts himself from the chair and has the audacity to come to loom over you, while you swallow and glare at the bookcases there.

"Yes Sir."

Your foot collects with the trash can so hard that it flies all the way against the back of the alley with a loud clang and drops to the floor in a mess of litter. "If you can't have lactose, maybe don't go to a diner which serves only dishes with lactose! Seven years my ass, what have you been eating all those years, tHe FUcKiNG NaPKiN?!!" You shout at no one in particular, stomping around the alley like a child throwing a tantrum. "'If I hear complaints about you one more time-', the only one who complains every time is you!"

You take a deep breath, and come back to yourself, trying to focus on finding your calm before you shift and ruin your entire day. The cold air helps, though your hands are still shaky and your heart beats too fast. It’s eight and a bit now, and when your colleague spilled an entire jar of water on your feet you just had to take a breather outside. The younger girl apologized profusely though, and you're not mad at her. She's basically still a child, anyway. A pretty girl, but you do wonder how she was ever hired. She looks underage.

Running your hands through your hair a few times, you groan. You hate your job so much, but you need to in order to pay rent. After another second, you give in and pull open the door, frustration settling and determination taking it's place. You wouldn't let yourself give up that quickly. No way you’ll let that arrogant prick get under your skin like that. You’ll show him how capable you are.

***

Jongdae flashes a small smile, and scans her face. The girl across him is, with her long black hair and cherry red lips, definitely pretty, but Lord- does she talk a whole lot. And that means something coming from him. He takes a sip of water.

"... so pasta with cream sauce would be fine! It will remind me of my time in Italy." She flicks some of her hair over her shoulder and smiles sweetly, beaming up at him. "So how do you know Sehun anyway? I noticed he's never one to talk to the girls in class but I think I would have noticed that he had such an attractive friend if you were in our major, right?'

Jongdae nods, really questioning the girl's need for air, and leans back in his chair a little. "We're long time friends. I finished my major last year. I'm still on part time with my mentor."

The girl responds with an enthusiastic hum, and clasps her hands together. "Psychiatry seems so interesting! You must be really smart too, then huh, along with funny and handsome? I couldn't do it, you know, listening to all those people's problems and thoughts." She leans into her hand when giggling, and blinks up at him.

"Really. Who would have guessed." Jongdae nods quickly, averting his gaze to look around the diner quickly. What was Sehun thinking, setting him up with this giggling schoolgirl? She seems nice, but he can't deal with someone who talks more than he does.

"I hope someone comes to take our orders quickly though, I'm starving." The girl mumbles.

His eyes zero in on someone then, as if drawn by a magnet, even in the slightly dimmed light. A waitress, bright copper wavy hair and her hands and arms balancing five plates at once. She's shining, sparkling almost, a fiery determination in her eyes as she moves through the tables and delivers everyone's food. He almost chokes on his sip of water there and then. She's smiling, but her eyebrows are bunched, a funny fighting expression on her flushed face. Jongdae thinks he holds his breath, but really, it's hard to know what he does when this tornado of a person comes speeding past, too absorbed in her work to notice him. His eyes follow her already leaving shape until she dusts off her sweaty palms and moves back into the kitchen. It's only then, that his senses start working again, loud cluttered noise of the restaurant filtering in and the acute feeling of his heart beating about a million beats a minute. "Sunny!" The younger waitress calls, "that one is for table 5!"

Jongdae can't help the huge smile that comes on his face when it registers. This whirlwind of a person, full of thunder and lightning and static jumping off her persona like that of dark clouds, is called Sunny? Cute, that.

She comes walking back into the room with only two plates this time, and as she does, her eyes meet his in confusion. Her blue silver eyes meet his, and then they widen as if she just figured out how to fly, plates almost falling to the floor when she comes to a very abrupt halt.

Without hesitation, he's up out of his seat, following her with his eyes as she backs toward the kitchen.

"...and that was the- Jongdae?" His date suddenly blinks, surprised by his movement.

"Your story is super interesting, Annie, but I have to go. Sorry." He hurries, giving her a real smile this time.

And he's off, chasing after his mate with the biggest grin on his face. It's impossible how warm he feels right now, and how much he wants to know her already.

"It's Angela..." The girl calls after him, pouting.

***

Not good. Not good at all.

You stumble into the kitchen, slamming the door behind you. With wide eyes you try to process what the hell just happened. The wave of burning heat, slapping you in the face, and the fact that every cell in your body seemed to tremble and twist in his direction. You put your hands against your flushed cheeks in an attempt to calm them down, and take a deep breath.

You just met your mate. Your actual mate, the person who has been your other half for 28 years and the person who you thought you'd never find. It feels so sweet, way sweeter than you ever imagined it, but also terrifies you. You really like your life the way it is. You don't need a man fucking it up. And that seems to go both ways because he was clearly on a date.

You don't get the chance to process everything fully because the door you're resting your back against is being pushed open. You jump and push back, only causing him to giggle. It’s warm and melodic. The sound makes your heart swell, and you wish you could hate it but it only makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The young man of earlier pokes his ridiculously handsome face between the door once he pushes it open wide enough, an adorable kitten smile on his lips. You just frown at him and take a step away, folding your arms over your chest.

"Hello." He grins, voice deep and smooth. "I can already see you don't like me very much, but at least give me a chance?" The giggle that passes his lips is almost childlike, and makes your heart all soft. What kind of dark magic...

"Did you just run away from your girlfriend to chase me?" You frown at him, as he regards you with shimmering eyes, as if you are the most precious thing he's ever seen. It's almost insulting. Almost. You’re a lot of things, but cute isn’t one of them.

Again he laughs. You can already tell that this man is going to ruin you, with his joyful spirit and charms spilling out of his pores. He shrugs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets while taking a little step closer to you. "It's kind of our first date. Safe to say I won't be seeing her again though."

"Yeah, because you left her in the middle of a shitty diner to chase after another woman on your first date." For a second you wonder why you are so seemingly angry at him. Your past hasn't been easy however, and it's hard to convince your heart of that. He doesn't seem to mind though. And that in itself makes you even more frowny.

"H- Well, yes, probably, but also because I just met the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes upon."

Turning towards some of the dirty plates on the table behind you, you start stacking them nervously. "Oh, really? Where is she?" You turn over your shoulder to look at the guy, only to jump when he's right behind you.

He doesn't say anything for a while, just smiling down at you with his stupidly adorable moon eyes, before humming softly. "How do you do that?" He mumbles then, smile slipping off to really look at you., "You're looking at me with eyes that could shoot lightning and still you're brighter than the sun. Sunny really fits you."

When your name slips out of his mouth, you feel the full force of why people love their mates almost immediately. The word sends warm shivers down your spine and makes you feel floaty like nothing ever has. "I- I w-" you stutter, stepping from under his chin to slide to the side with flushed cheeks. "I'm really focused on my job, and I don't really do soulmates."

He just nods his head cutely, and smiles. "That's okay, I don't either." He runs a hind through his black hair, and grins to himself. "Can't you just see me as a normal guy asking you out? Just one date."

You giggle nervously, running your finger along the metal table edge over and over. You're acting like a total love struck fool right now, but it's impossible not to when your heart mellows at every second you're near him. "I don't even know your name." You just sigh, a horrible attempt at an excuse and you know it.

"Jongdae." He grins, quick to respond as he walks a little closer to you again.

This is a shitty idea. A really shitty idea.

"I promise I'll be sophisticated."

A giggle escapes you then, making you roll your eyes. "I really doubt it."

He gives you another smile. "Pinky promise." He holds out his phone for you to put your number in, right as your colleague walks in. Her eyes widen considerably at the sight of a customer here, but she doesn't say anything.

"You better not break your promise then, Jongdae." You are an idiot.

***

He didn’t lie. He looks more than sophisticated, with fancy suit and gold rimmed glasses perched on his pretty nose. Jongdae picked you up at 6, three days after you two met. And you hated to admit it, but he hadn’t left your mind for a second since that day. The entire walk home, you were practically singing, that’s how stupidly happy you were.

You’re dressed a lot more, how should you say it, dead inside, than Jongdae is. You’re wearing a black pencil skirt with a beautiful colored dragon on the side, a lacy top and several black rings adorning your slim fingers. Older people stared when you walked past them, Jongdae only grinning when you gave them a wink.

“Why are you so quiet?” Jongdae turns to you, cheeks high with smiles. He always looks so deliriously happy, you wonder if that ever gets tiring. Probably not. “You’ve been all shy the entire evening.”

You huff and glare up at him from where you’re holding his arm hooked in yours, before grinning slightly as you come to a stop at another big photograph, displayed in this gallery. You don’t really know why Jongdae chose to take you here, but it sure is sophisticated. “That’s just because you’ve been talking so much that I couldn’t get a single word in.”

Jongdae pushes your shoulder, giggling. “Not even true at all. I’ve been holding back more than I have my entire life.”

A snort passes your lips before you can help it. “How sweet.”

“I know.”

Right when you want to respond, you two turn a corner, where a big group of people is talking animatedly. You immediately feel that most of them are wolves, humming in interest. Is this the group of people that lives at the edge of the city? You doubt it, they don’t seem familiar. Still though.

Some of the people are looking at the photographs on the wall, some others crawling on each other’s backs and hanging on top of each other like a huge mess of limbs. Most though, are crowded around a small girl who has a huge blush on her chubby face, apart from the one black haired couple to the side who just look at the group lovingly. “Guys,” the one girl mumbles, looking around at some disproving people walking past, “quiet down. Thank you but you are really too much.”

One of the smaller men, red-brown hair bouncing up and down as he enthusiastically speeds over to her and throws his arms around her neck. “I’m never quieting down. We’re so pROUD, dUNgi!!” She just giggles and swats him away, before taking a sip of her champagne and coming to rest her head on one of the other man’s shoulders.

This group fill the entire room, and you can’t help but snort as you lean into Jongdae a little more. “See, this is why being alone is better than being in a pack. What a mess.” Giggling, you pass by the room where the huge crowd is, continuing down one of the halls. You catch eyes with one of them for just a split second, as his eyes widen, but before you can notice you’re out of view.

Jongdae grins a little sheepishly, and rubs his free hand at the base of his neck. “Yeah, I guess they do look like a whole mess.” The smile doesn’t reach his eyes fully.

“Loud, too. I couldn’t do it, I think, even if I tried.” Stopping for yet another picture, you frown, this one a lot more dark than most of the other works displayed here. “Do you think that one girl was the photographer? She takes really good pictures.”

The man to your side hums, before turning towards the side. “Yeah, she is really talented. I don’t like this picture though,” cocking his head at the dimly lit, deep blue picture full of small bubbles, as if it was taken underwater, “way too sad. Her works are so bright and pretty, they shouldn’t have hung this one up.”

You can’t help but nod, noticing the fire behind his words. “It seems like this one was taken in a sad past, where she had no hope. Drowning, almost.”

Jongdae quiets at that, finding your eyes for a second and resting on your lips. It makes your whole body shiver, but he seems lost in thought. Maybe that hit a personal note, you don’t know. Though being around him feels like being around an extension of yourself, you don’t know of Jongdae’s past, much like he doesn’t know of yours. The entire evening has just been filled with happy teasing and occasionally letting him slip his hand into yours, before giggling and pushing him away.

He breathes deeply, before coming back to you and smiling softly. “You have freckles.” He says it so softly, like it is something that makes you a dainty little flower, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and you don’t have your right mind to shoo him away. “I didn’t notice it before, but- they’re all over. Here-” he points at your nose than, smile returning fully, “and here-” he brushes his thumb softly along your cheek, “and right- there.”

He puts his finger on the one freckle you know you have right at the edge of your lips, a very light one. When you move forward, or if you even do, you don’t know, but suddenly he’s way closer than he was before and your heart is beating out of your chest. His hands come up to cup your cheeks softly, and then is lips press to yours.

And when you close your eyes, you see fireworks. It’s just a peck, and Jongdae soon pulls back, but you’re frozen in the moment for way after that. Your lips tingle with the feeling of his, so soft and warm and pillowy that you’re lost at what to do. In your entire life, you’ve never had a kiss this careful, this gentle and it’s like the entire world has yanked up the saturation when you open your eyes again.

He doesn’t say anything for a while. When he does, a shy smile comes to play at his mouth corners, one you’ve never seen on him before. He always seems so confident in all he does, and yet here he is, blushing after a single kiss. Not that you can blame him, you feel bright red as well.

“I’ll walk you home, they are closing this place soon.” He sighs, before slipping his hand into yours and pulling you into his side.

The whole walk to your house, which was luckily only a good couple of minutes, was spent in a comfortable silence, or with soft whispers and giggles. You don’t know when it became so late that the sun sunk entirely behind the horizon. It must be at least 11 pm right now, since the city has become almost completely silent. Surprising, for a Wednesday evening.

Jongdae has been playing with your fingers the entire time, giggling every time you glare up at him or give him little jabs in the side. You’ve never been like this with a person before, but here you are. He lets out a deep breath, the warm air painting off against the cooling down evening, and then smiles. “Don’t look.” He suddenly says, disconnecting your hands and placing the one over your eyes.

You yelp, and take hold of his arm. “How can I walk when I don’t see where I’m going, Jongdae?”

“I’ll lead you.” He says, while you can hear his take something out of his pocket. His hand drops from your eyes. “Don’t look, yeah? I’m serious.” He doesn’t sound at all serious, so you laugh, but do as asked. His hand wraps around yours again, warm and solid, and then you feel the distinct feeling of a pen on your skin.

You bite your lip and smile, still walking on as you lean into him a little more. “Are you writing your number on my hand? You do know that this stuff only works in movies when I don’t have your number yet, right?”

Jongdae laughs loudly at that, the sound ringing through the street, before huffing playfully. “I’m not writing my number.”

“Hm.” You smile, patiently waiting until you feel the pen still on your skin, and hear the click of it. Jongdae squeezes your hand softly. “Can I open up now?”

“Yes.” He nods, grin audible in his voice, while he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but a soft smile comes on your lips. On the back of your hand is a little sun, accompanied with just two words. ‘Yours, Jongdae’. He doesn’t say anything when you glance up at him with shimmering eyes, and leads you to the side, where to your dismay, you recognize your door.

“We’re here.” Jongdae smiles, holding in front of you and taking both hand in his. “I don’t know if I still have to say it, because it seems obvious, but I really enjoyed my night with you.”

“I really enjoyed my night with you too.” You nod, looking at your feet. “Do you want to come in for a while?”

His eyes flick to your door, and then back to you, to your door again. He gives a pained smile, before shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I promised to be sophisticated and I really plan on keeping to that. Next time, maybe.” He leans forward and presses a sweet his to your forehead, and then nods. “Have a good night, Sunny. I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Okay.” You just nod, and wave him out. “Have a good night.” When he walks away backwards, he sends you a last breathtaking smile, and then he’s gone. You almost melt into a puddle right then and there.

What did you say again? Not letting a man fuck up your life?

Well… you’re done for.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! New characters!! Yet again. By now you’re used to this, right? This au is going to keep going until it kills me. I really enjoyed writing Jongdae for once! I feel like I’ve been lacking a lot of him throughout the series so I’m very sorry toward any Jongdae stans.

Please leave a message about your thoughts, anything you noticed this chapter or what you liked in general!! Just know that if I get input I’m a lot more motivated to put out more content.

Thank you for reading! ♡♡

If you want to be (un)tagged for this story or any of my others, just let me know! @rissa-is-a-nerd (it’s finally here, mom. how long ago did i say this would come?) @ninibears-erigom @baekfanapleintemps @vamprrr

68 notes · View notes

nubnubblr · 5 years

Text

If You Do .14

SAM

"So Beunka tried to convince you she was pregnant to get you back?" Thea raised an eyebrow looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

"Pretty much," I nodded.

The doctor had cleared me to be discharged, I did have to go back in a week for a check-up, and then a week after that to get the stitches removed. I was also going to have to go through at least three months of rehab to get my shoulder working well enough to play the guitar again. None of that had occurred to me last night, what was I going to do if I couldn't play the guitar? I wasn't going to be able to go to Leo's band practice, that much I was sure of.

"Hey, are you okay?" Charlie frowned.

"Yeah," I nodded.

I didn't want to tell them any of this because I didn't want them to try and make me feel better about it. It was just something I was going to have to process on my own because there was nothing that was going to feel better about until I was able to play again. Music has always been my escape, and I wasn't really sure how I was going to be able to process my feelings without being able to play.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine," I nodded again.

"Well we're almost home," Thea stated turning onto her street.

They had decided that I would stay with them because it was unsanitary to stay above the bar and if the boys tried to change my dressings they would joke around or not do it properly if they did it, to begin with. Jae had made a joke about Thea only knowing how to change a dressing like a nurse because she hurts herself so much. I hadn't bothered arguing, there was no point when they had both set their mind to it, and I didn't really want to be able to see Jae play his guitar at night. Nor did I want him to not play it because I couldn't.

CHARLIE

He had started slipping, he had realised what his shoulder Injury meant and he wasn't handling it well, he was trying to show that he was but I could see it all over his face that this was going to be a struggle for him. Sam was never good at hiding his feelings, they always showed through his face like a lit up billboard.

"Whose car is that?" Thea asked as she pulled up to our house.

"I have no idea," I shrugged.

We all got out, BM and Jae were already here. I had to resist the urge to help Sam, it was only his shoulder and he would feel worse if I was trying to help him with something he was capable of. Thea paused and turned around.

"I don't need help," he held his hand up to her.

"I'm waiting to lock my car," she lifted her keys, but we both know that's not why she turned around.

"Since when do you lock your car in the middle of the day, at your own house?" he countered.

"Since there is a car here I don't know and I'm overly paranoid, our group has had some bad luck lately," she shrugged.

"Right," he nodded letting it go.

We made our way inside, Jae was sitting at the kitchen table across from Bernard who was Coco's friend. He travelled with her doing a podcast, both BM and Jae listen to it; BM so he knows how Coco is, Jae because, well for the same reason but he'll tell you it's because he's bored.

"Hey," Coco smiled coming out of the spare room.

"Where have you been?"

"Here, there, and everywhere, there are a lot of people to catch up with after being away for months," she smiled.

"Are you off again?" BM frowned coming out of the bathroom.

"No, a few friends are going down south to Bernard's house for a few nights, I'll be back after that,"

"Okay," BM nodded.

"Okay?" Jae frowned.

"What? I trust Coco and Bernard won't let anything happen to her," BM shrugged.

"Because if he did you would strangle him with your big monkey hands," Thea commented.

"He does kind of have monkey hands," Bernard nodded.

"Hey," Coco smacked Bernard in the back of the head.

"What?"

"Let's go before he beats you for being rude," Coco stated hugging BM goodbye.

"Be safe, call if you need me," he stated.

THEA

"I can't believe you let her go," Jae grumbled.

"Dude she's an adult, I can't tell her to not go with her friends when I don't have an issue with her travelling around the world," BM frowned confused.

"Why are you so worried about it?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not. Oh my god, you'll never guess what we found last night before BM stabbed Sam," Jae blurted out, it worked the way he wanted to because BM fell silent and was happy to change the subject rather than question him about his concern for Coco.

"What?" I asked with a sigh.

"The Polaroid box," he smirked.

"You found what now?" I froze.

I had specifically hidden that box in there stuff knowing they wouldn't check there, except that I made them go through it. That box had the only evidence, other than the photos my mother had and wouldn't let me get rid of, that I was ever fat. I specifically made sure that one of us was always missing when we want to open it just so I never had to see them again. Me and that stupid rule. I thought that it would be good for me to be able to look back and see how far I had come. Really it just reminds me of a person I hate.

"Maybe we should cook some food, buy some drinks and open the box, reminisce a little," Charlie suggested.

"Seriously?" I frowned.

"Is that something you don't want to do?" Jae raised an eyebrow.

"You know it's something I don't want to do, why do you think that I hide the damn thing in the first place?" I sighed.

"I think it's a great idea," BM nodded, glancing at Sam who hadn't said a word or really paid any attention to anything since we got home.

They were doing it for Sam's sake, well Charlie and BM were, Jae was doing it to irritate me. I let out a sigh, throwing an internal tantrum like a four-year-old, I let out a sigh. There was no way I was going to be able to say no now.

"I'll go get supplies," I sighed.

JACKSON

"Wakey wakey sunshine, you're going to be late for work if you don't get up now," I shook Jooheon's legs.

We had decided to have a few drinks and order some more food last night, it was too late and he was a little too intoxicated to go home so he just slept on our lounge. It was just easier. But he has two jobs and he works weekends. I felt bad for the guys sometimes, but he seemed to really enjoy what he does.

"What's the time?"

"Almost 12:30, you work the night shift tonight, right?"

"Yeah, I don't have to be there until 4," he yawned stretching.

"I figured this would give you time to shower, wake up a little, maybe have some breakfast?" I shrugged.

"How long have you been awake?" he frowned.

"Like three hours, I had some stuff to go over for work,"

"Where's Mark?"

"He went into the office," I shrugged.

"It's a Saturday?"

"Marketing doesn't stop just because it's Saturday,"

"I guess,"

"Coffee?"

"Yes please," he nodded getting up of the lounge and making his way into the kitchen.

"Here," I handed him a cup sitting down at the table where I had my laptop open, I was still sifting through the emails I hadn't had time to get to this week.

"Any big plans for today?" he asked sitting across from me.

"You're looking at them,"

"No plans with Thea?" he frowned.

"I mean, I'm going to call her in a minute to see how her friend is, but we have no plans to meet up or anything, not today at least," I shook my head.

"Are you playing hard to get?"

"No, she's trying to convince her friend to come with her and I asked Mark, they just haven't answered yet,"

"Why do you need people to go with you? Haven't you already met in person?"

"Not really, we only met long enough to exchange numbers, she wants to bring her friend to be safe, just in case I'm a psycho, and I thought I would brink Mark so her friend didn't feel like a third wheel,"

"You guys make things too complicated," he shook his head at me.

"Easy is boring," I shrugged.

"I guarantee you'll regret saying that," he pulled a face.

"Drink your coffee," I frowned picking my phone up from the counter.

THEA

I was walking down the snack aisle when my phone started ringing, I thought it was one of them calling me to ask for something specific, or Jae calling to insult me then add something to the list. But it wasn't, it was Jackson.

"Hey," I didn't really understand why he called when he could just text me.

"Hey, how is your friend?"

"He's out of the hospital, but I think he's realised that his injury is going to affect his ability to play the guitar for a while,"

"I'm sure he'll find something to occupy him,"

"Music is kind of his dream, it's going to be hard on him but we're all here for him so,"

"What are you up to today? Other than being a good friend?"

"That's about it actually, I'm just at the shop getting some things for us to have a few drinks and some food while we reminisce about old times and I try not to die of embarrassment," I hadn't meant to say the last part but it's not like I was good at filtering things out.

"Why would you die of embarrassment?"

"We made this box when we started high school, it's full of Polaroid photos of us all, the boys found it yesterday. So we're going to look through it," I let out a sigh.

"Why would that be embarrassing? I bet you were a cute teenager," I had to bite back a laugh.

"Some of them are just taken on an angle that isn't so flattering, and my style was questionable," there was no way I was telling him I was fat.

"I'm sure they're not that bad,"

"They're worse,"

"I don't believe you,"

"You don't have too," I shrugged.

"So, have you talked to your friend yet? I was thinking we could plan something for next weekend?"

"I haven't, but I've figured out a way to get her to agree, how's Saturday?"

"Saturday sounds good,"

Sam hadn't really spoken since he'd gotten back from the hospital, he had tried to appear happy but when he thought no one was looking his smile faded and he looked deep in thought.

I think he was trying to make us all believe that he was fine and handling this, but we all knew he wasn't fine and he wasn't processing this well. Reality had clearly hit him and he had realised that the guitar was out of reach. This seemed to annoy Charlie more and she directed that at me, which I guess was fair. I could have potentially ruined any future in the music career for Sam, it felt like a tone of bricks had come crashing down on me, but that guilt was probably nothing compared to the dread that Sam was feeling.

There was a beep from the front, I was guessing that Thea was back and didn't want to carry bags. I sighed getting up to go help her, I opened the door as she reached it with handfuls of shopping bags.

"I thought you were only getting supplies?" I raised an eyebrow.

"And I did, I also realised with the back to back drama this week, we hadn't done food shopping. Now move, this is heavy," she nudged past me.

SAM

Thea was busying herself in the kitchen cooking up enough food to feed a small army while the rest of us sat at the dining table, I wasn't really sure why we were sitting here instead of in the lounge room, but I also wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around me. It's not like I didn't want to, I just couldn't seem to focus on the conversation.

I knew why they were doing what they were doing but I didn't think it was going to be any help. Some food, a few drinks, and a box full of old memories weren't going to help me forget the fact that there is a possibility I might not be able to even play the guitar the same.

I mean, the doctor hadn't said that. In fact, he had said with some rehab that I would more than likely be back to normal. But, what if the rehab didn't work? What if the damage couldn't be completely fixed? Then what?

"Sam?" Charlie waved her hand in front of my face.

She hadn't really left me alone since she got to the hospital yesterday. And if she wasn't right next to me, then she was staring at me; if this were a different situation then I would think I were dreaming and would be overjoyed. But her worry and concern weren't really what I wanted right now.

"Sorry?"

"We were just saying that we should move to the lounge room, Thea is almost done cooking so," she gave a small smile.

"Okay," I nodded getting up.

"Did you get drinks?" BM asked standing in front of an open fridge.

Thea paused and seemed to have the sudden realization that she had forgotten to go and buy the alcohol.

"No, I did not, I got distracted trying to think of what needed to be bought food wise," she frowned.

"Okay, I'll go down and get them," BM shook his head.

"I'll come for a drive," Jae started.

"Do you want anything?" BM asked. I just shrugged.

"You idiot, he's on pain medication. He can't drink with that," Thea snapped.

"I didn't ask if he wanted alcohol,"

"But it's what you meant,"

"You don't know that,"

"Hurry up and go already," she rolled her eyes.

THEA

"Wait, let's change your dressing before those two get back," I called to Sam as they went to walk down to the lounge room.

"Okay," he sighed.

He stayed sitting at the kitchen table, I retrieved the bag of medical supplies I picked up while shopping. I turned around to a shirtless Sam, now, it's not like I hadn't seen him shirtless before, but I mean damn. His back was so nice, I didn't really understand how a back could be so attractive.

"Thea? Are you okay?" Sam frowned turning around.

Seriously, his level of attractive was extremely unfair.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I nodded walking over to him.

"Dude," Charlie smirked at me, the face she pulled insinuated that she knew exactly what I had been thinking. Or at least that I was checking him out.

"Sorry,"

"Why?" she laughed.

"What are you two talking about?" Sam frowned.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"Thea just appreciated your naked back," Charlie dobbed me in.

"Dude," I frowned.

"What? You did," she shrugged.

"I mean, when did you get this attractive?" I muttered.

CHARLIE

"Are you sure we have to open the box? Can't we just have a movie night or a bonfire?" Thea frowned. She got really insecure when her old weight was brought up.

"We're going g through the photos, we have never gone through them before and I guarantee there are photos in here that we will all hate," BM stated.

"Not me," Jae shook his head.

"That's because all of your photos are equally as bad," Thea rolled her eyes.

"If it makes you feel any better there are a lot of photos in this box and the ones your avoiding are definitely at the bottom of the box, we probably wont to even get to them," I shrugged.

"What photos are you avoiding?" Sam asked it was the first he had joined the conversation.

"The photos from when she was huge," BM stated, he emphasized the word huge. I think he was trying to make Sam laugh. Thea paused and stared at him. BM stopped what he was doing, realizing what had just said, even Jae looked shocked.

BM froze and looked up at her slowly, she was frowning at him now. Not even Jae was that stupid, he might poke fun at her but there were just topics even he wouldn't touch. Her past weight was one of them.

Jae smirked, I think he though Thea was about to beat BM up, I kind of thought she was. But instead she took a deep breath and said;

"Why don't you go get some glasses Matthew?" he just nodded getting up and retreating to the kitchen.

"He's just taking stabs at everyone," Jae commented.

"Dude," I frowned.

"What? Too soon?" Sam kind of smiled patting Jae on the shoulder.

"Why don't we open this box before someone else gets in trouble?" Sam plastered a smile on his face.

"Good idea," Thea nodded.

"Who would like to do the honours?" Jae smirked as BM walked back in placing glasses on the table.

"Nope," Thea shook her head.

"It's all you Jae,"

"Wait," Thea stated, we all stopped and looked at her, she reached for the bottle of bourbon and mixed herself a drink. She took a sip before gesturing for Jae to continue.

"Oh my God look at this," Thea burst out laughing holding up a Polaroid of me before I started working out.

"Look how twiggy he is," she continued to laugh.

"He looks like Jae," she was holding her stomach. After we had pulled out a few Polaroids and when none of them were of her overweight she relaxed a little, and drunk a lot.

That was on Jae, I think he was trying to loosen her up and make her feel better, also if she was drunk when she saw the photos of her fat she wouldn't remember in the morning. Not that he would ever admit it.

"Give me that," I sighed taking the photo from her. She was still laughing.

"Awe, look how cute Sam was," Charlie picked up a new photo

"Back when he let us attack his hair," Thea stated still giggling.

The girls have more or less always done their own hair, or at least they did before Charlie became friends with a hair stylist. They convinced Sam to let them do his a few times, this photo was taken right after they had done his hair. I looked closer and realised that he was staring at Charlie, which wasn't surprising, that was pretty much all of the photos the two were in together.

"Awe this is cute," Jae commented sarcastically, he had a photo of Charlie back when she was doing the dance performances at school.

"Ew," Charlie frowned.

"I don't remember this," Sam stated.

"This wasn't long before you transferred," I said.

"Shouldn't that be closer to the bottom?" Thea paused.

"If that box had never moved, the order has probably been mixed up with how often the box has been moved," I shrugged.

"Here, why don't you have another drink," Jae mixes her a drink handing her the glass.

It was good timing, the next photo that was picked up was Thea just before the summer she lost all the weight, it was also when she was at her heaviest. She worked really hard all summer with Drew losing the weight. Jaws dropped the day school went back and everyone thought we had a new kid. All the guys that had bullied and made fun of her all tried to get her attention.

She lost all colour and picked up the glass downing half of it. When she put the glass back down she had a smile on her face.

"I look like I ate myself," she laughed. We all knew it was fake, she did that when she felt insecure, she would make fun of herself. But we all knew that photo was killing her inside.

Jae slid it under the box picking up a new photo. Thea picked up her glass and finished its content.

"Oh my God, look at my hair," Jae frowned down at the photo in his hand.

"I remember that. We were doing our hair and Thea attacked you with bleach," Charlie commented.

"I didn't attack him, he was irritating me on purpose, I was only threatening him until he grabbed my wrists. Then I thought why not?" she shrugged.

"He didn't mind the skunk stripe, he is the one who said no when you offered to fix it," she added looking at Charlie.

"How do you feel about it now?" I raised an eyebrow.

"It's still cool," he shrugged.

He picked up a few more photos as Thea focused on pouring herself another drink, he slid the photos under the box before she seen them. I was assuming that they were more of her overweight, but he wouldn't admit that's what he was doing.

SAM

I was heading back down the hallway after going to the bathroom, Charlie was in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea.

"Oh my god," I froze.

"What?" Charlie came up behind me.

"Oh gross,"

"What are they doing?" I frowned,

"What did I miss?" BM came through the door, he'd gone into the bathroom after me.

"That's disgusting," he frowned lifting his phone to take a photo.

"What are you doing?" Charlie frowned at him.

"I'm getting photo evidence to show them in the morning,"

"Get a room," BM commented, it was supposed to be a joke, but Thea and Jae pulled away from each other and gave each other a look.

"That's a great idea," she rose to her feet, Jae followed inking hands.

"No!!" Charlie and BM stated at the same time.

BM was over there is a second, arm around Thea's waist. He pushed their hands apart and picked her up off the ground taking her to her room. At the same time, Charlie was pushing Jae down the hallway towards the spare room where she closed him in.

"The image of them is going to be seared into my brain for the rest of my life," Charlie shook her head coming back down the hallway.

"I think I'm going to throw up," BM commented coming out of her room.

"Do you have the Bluetooth printer for your phone?" BM asked Charlie.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because if the photo goes in the box, it can't be destroyed and if we're forced to remember that until we die, then so are they," he shrugged.

"Okay," she nodded going to find it.

I sat back down on the lounge and continued going through the box, there were photos in here from before I knew them, and I was curious to see them.

6 notes · View notes

richietozierluv · 6 years

Text

he first knew - (bill denbrough)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: As the unmentioned leader of the Loser’s Club, they look to him for support, for someone to tell them what to do and that it’s going to be okay. Until now, no one made the effort to tell him that he’s going to be okay, and because of you, maybe he will start to believe these things himself.

Author’s Note: I swear it’s not as angsty as it sounds, I always write at like 1am so maybe it’s reflecting into my writing whoops

Word Count: 1,505

Warnings: Swearing and ?Wasps?

“We gotta be c-c-careful, I don’t want to leave a muh-muh-mess. My dad will be –“

He spat out a number of ‘p’s, and finally managed to say ‘pissed off’. You, Bill, and Eddie were taking advantage of Bill’s empty house, by playing, what was supposed to be, a friendly game of Monopoly.

“It’s not my fault that she’s clearly fucking cheating!” Eddie pointed at you accusingly. Sure, he was your best friend, but he was a pain in the ass. Oh my god he was such a pain in the ass.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you retorted.

“Ha, ha. Do you even realise how many germs there are in your mouth? You’d be literally sucking someone to death.”

“Eds,” he threw a dice at you, “you are a germ.”

Bill watched this catfight play out as he cleaned up the remains of the game pieces, and put the game back under the TV cabinet. It ended with a poor “your mom” joke on Eddie’s side, and a middle finger on yours. After he had slammed the door and left, you turned to Bill.

“Sorry Big Bill, I thought he’d finally learnt how to not suck at playing games.”

You plopped down on the couch, and flicked through the pile of movies Bill had selected for your weekly movie night.

“I guess it’s only e-ever a matter of time until h-he throws a tantrum. We can’t expect too much from the kid.” He sat down next to you, and almost punched you in the cheek in order to grab ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ from your hands. “You think you’re up for it this time?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me? Not only am I up for it, but I will love watching you st-st-stutter in fear,” you both smiled at each other, only noticing how close your faces were when the front door started to unlock. Instinctively, you both jumped back.

You both said goodnight to Bill’s parents, who had walked upstairs almost as soon as they were inside.

His parents loved you, or at least that’s what Bill thought, but it was hard to make a judgement when they didn’t speak to their son all that much, let alone you. The first time you met them, his mother had offered a reluctant, “Hello, nice to meet you, Y/n,” and you worried yourself thinking you had made a bad first impression. But when you turned around to see Bill’s expression of absolute overjoy, you felt reassured; although a little sad that such a small gesture could make him so happy.

After discovering that you were in fact, not up for it, and could only watch the movie through the fingers over your eyes, and with the help of Bill’s arms around you, the both of you had fallen asleep on the couch.

Unsurprisingly, his parents didn’t even notice.

A few weeks before, Beverly, Ben, Stan, Eddie, and you, listened intently to Richie’s take on what happened to him and Bill at the infamous house on Neibolt Street.

“I swear to god, IT almost had me by the balls. If it weren’t for Bill and his gun, I would no longer be a man.”

“I-I don’t know w-what a duh-duh-dead thing smells like, but now- now I th-think I do,” Beverly’s hand went to her mouth, “it smells- it smells like shit.” Any other time they would laugh, and Richie would congratulate Bill on telling a ‘ripper of a joke’. But all he got in response was a look from you, a look that knew too well, he supposed.

“And the worst thing is, it didn’t even look like a real werewolf. It looked like something from a movie, I saw the zipper on its back.” Richie fumbled with a loose thread at the edge of his Hawaiian shirt, not knowing exactly what else to say. To be honest, he was expecting more of a reaction than just the sound of Eddie pumping his asthma puffer. The only weird thing about that, was that he did it only the once, almost as if he was contemplating letting his head get cloudy enough to knock him out. Over the next few hours or so, the barrens became a confessional. Everyone started to share their own encounters with IT; Beverly and her bathroom sink, Eddie’s leper lover at the aforementioned house, and your encounter with the giant wasp nest in your bedroom.

At 7pm, although undiscussed, the group split into pairs so that they’d make it home in time for dinner. You left Eddie with Richie and Ben when you realised Bill was walking alone.

“So I guess you won’t be seeing Attack of the Werewolf 2 anytime soon?” you nudged him playfully, and he smiled sadly back.

“I-It’s too bad you’re sc-scared of was-was-“

You let him stutter for a few moments before saying, “You aren’t allowed to make fun of what I’m scared of. We signed a disclosure agreement.”

“S-sorry… Do you w-want to know where was-wasps come from?”

“Bill-“

“St-stingapore.”

You threatened to push Bill onto the road, even though there were no cars at this time of night in Derry, but gave in to laughter when he smiled at you wildly. Partly because the joke wasn’t half bad, and partly because you felt like there were butterflies- no, wasps- in your chest at the mere sound of his voice. You didn’t care that it cracked and stuttered, you would do or say anything to hear it.

Bill invited you in, as his parents would be home late, and went to the kitchen to grab you both a can of soda. He tripped over his own feet, and let the cans roll out of his hands, when he heard you playing a familiar tune on the piano in the back room. The light that filtered in through the hallway draped itself over you, enabling you to see the piano keys in the dark. You fumbled, hit all the wrong notes, but it still sounded okay.

“How-how do you know that song?”

You jumped when Bill had sat down next to you.

“My dad- he had this crappy little keyboard, but he’d always play this song to me when I was little and I couldn’t sleep.” You were all too aware of Bill shaking, and laced your fingers with his so that he would stop.

“Can you teach me- a- a little bit?” he was whispering, but it sounded loud, and you could hear him trying not to cry.

“Okay, put your right hand here,” you shifted it with your own, “and your left hand,” you untangled your fingers and positioned it in front of him. “It can be a bit tricky at first,” you smiled, forgetting he couldn’t see you. You moved his fingers to the right keys so that it sounded like it should be a song but wasn’t quite, and before Bill could tell you that his mother used to play this song to Georgie, you asked him, “Bill, I know you’re not, but- are you okay?”

He wasn’t shaking anymore, but full on hiccupping with sobs. You held him tightly, brushing your hand gently through his hair.

Bill’s crush on you started out as puppy love. After picking up the dinted cans of soda, and getting a new pair from the fridge, he plopped down on the couch next to you, as if he had done it hundreds of times before, even though this had been your first time at his house without the others. He passed you a Coca Cola, felt his heart jump when you smiled a thank you, and stuttered, “Do- do you wuh-wuh-want to watch a movie?”

Throughout the film, he stared at you, noticing as if for the very first time, how beautiful you looked, even with the only light coming from the television screen.

You first kissed him when you let him beat you at a game of Scrabble, because you just couldn’t resist how happy he looked, and wanted to live in that moment forever. It was messy, you had grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, and pulled him over the game board. When you pulled back, you didn’t even for a moment think he wouldn’t want to kiss you, but you wanted a good look at his face; eyes closed, mouth still puckered, and his cheeks as red as yours. He knocked over the rest of the Scrabble letters almost like a little kid, or Eddie, who was losing at a game, to collide his lips with yours once again.

He first knew he loved you when he woke up in the middle of the night, after watching ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’, and felt entirely too warm with you sleeping right next to him on the couch. But instead of waking you up, he pulled you closer and tighter, never wanting to feel cold again.

AN: i am finally getting out of my writer’s block but it’s probably not healthy sitting in the dark on my laptop at 2am writing and writing and oh god. anyways hopefully this is okay! I've never really read any bill stuff myself, but i do love him a lot and just wanted to care for him because WHO ELSE WILL??????

tagged: @riverdalerebel

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough x reader #it cast #it cast imagine #it movie #jaeden lieberher #jaeden lieberher imagine #jaeden lieberher x reader #richietozierluv

417 notes · View notes

6ad6ro · 6 years

Text

let's talk about this idea of incels for a sec. i'm gonna do my best to not make a single insulting remark here. and i'm oversimplifying gender and sexuality like crazy since incels tend to be cis men. so anyways incels are ppl (men) who wanna have sex, but believe women just won't let them, right? they feel somehow their personalities make them incompatible with girls. okay.

most ppl? just view that rejection as a period of loneliness rather than defining themselves by it. when you grow up, you realise that most ppl want romantic partners. or at least an emotionally comparable variant. it's rly not hard to meet ppl. you just get out there. be nice n considerate. honest. accept things don't always work out and realise it's not the world against you. you just keep looking. meet people and let things happen naturally.

TLDR: incels are just toxic, extremist versions of the guys who used to bring up "friendzoning", and fz was never real. girls don't actually have an easier time dating than guys. it isn't women doing this to you, but rather the fault of patriarchy and the dudes in charge. you can change! just stop with this silliness because it's making things way worse for you!

i'm not particularly attractive, especially now that i'm older. i don't have a lot of money. i'm rly not interesting. i have a ton of personality baggage and flaws. hell, i'm agoraphobic and sorta like a western hikikomori. it's rly hard for me to meet people even online. and yet, when i DO get out there? i wind up in relationships or flings or flirty friendships. bc that's just how it works.

you have to meet ppl and develop a relationship to have... the physical parts of a relationship. life isn't porn. or harem anime. people have brains and feelings. and everybody has preferences. that person who you think is perfect for you? maybe they just weren't looking for someone like you. it isn't cruel of them to have their own opinions.

i mean honestly i don't think a single one of you incels would fuck just anybody. you guys have preferences too. are you sure if you didn’t open your eyes a bit wider that you couldn’t find someone? bc there are tons and tons of lonely ppl out there! the majority of ppl, actually. it's insane how many ppl are out there, right at this moment, who wish they had a sexual partner. go find them! be willing to have broader preferences! stop looking for someone who is "perfect" and look for someone who you can just be happy with!

okay so fine you say "well i'm ugly from societies standards". but... then why are you going after people who follow society's standards. as someone who constantly feels outcast in your life, shouldn’t that experience SHOW you that popular societal opinions are mostly frivolous? standards of beauty are fake? so if someone rejects you purely on that front (and this is a stretch bc everyone has valid personal pref), why isn't that a GOOD thing to you!? you aren't wasting your time on someone who harshly judges you based on unimportant things! you're filtering incompatible ppl out that way! it's all very natural.

okay lastly... i'm gonna bring up a part that could make me look bad. but i wanna be rly honest here. so women? do seem like they have an easier time meeting men. SEEM is the key word here, bc they actually don't. not really.

but girls who are willing to severely fall into the gender roles that patriarchal society forces upon them? yeah. they do. as long as they're fairly "attractive". and willing to spend a ton of time TRYING to be attractive. ESP if they're a bit aggressive themselves. thanks to awful patriarchy, typical gender roles have men chasing women like predators after prey. i won't get into ALL the extensive, rapey issues that involves bc that isn't my point here.

tho i mean how is that any different than a guy doing similar role stuff like "working out/making money/acting cool"?? if you really wanna meet the kinds of girls who fall into typical gender roles, you gotta do the same thing? i don't think this will make ppl happy... but if you wanna play games with ppl, you gotta play within the same dumb rules!

but back to my point, girls that let themselves be chased easily find themselves with guys more often. bc in patriarchy typically the guy has to initiate. girls like that are being reactive. so from a naive male perspective, it can look like "they get any guy they want". no. they're just saying yes to the guys they like of whatever pool of guys who are going after them. if they aren't chasing guys directly, how can they be directly rejected out of the gate?

let's look at it this way: a guy chases after 20 girls he kinda likes over a few years. 5 respond positively back. it prob seems like he only has 25% success w women and is usually failing, right? whereas a girl gets hit on by 20 guys over the same period, but says yes to 5 of them. so she's getting an "100% success rate" there, since she only wanted that 5. she wasn't chasing anyone. to guys it looks like they WORK for women, but women just win the lottery with guys? no. absolutely wrong. that is objectively incorrect.

you aren't incorporating all the guys they rly want. or how often they just "go with it". how often do you hear stories of girls wanting a guy and winding up w their friend instead? girls actually typically play within a pool of disappointment rather than chasing ideals. it's not literally disappointment tho? it's just being realistic. they play with the cards they're dealt.

there are TONS of girls who don't wanna spend so much of their lives playing that game tho. who DON'T wanna live within the confines of being a trophy. or if they aren't naturally lucky enough to be "pretty" by default, who aren't willing to spend 75% of their day compensating for that. those girls? aren't surrounded by guys. often single. often lonely until they get older and find someone they're mutually compatible with. bc that's another thing most guys don't see?

the only girls "worth" going after are the "appealing/easy" prey. or "white whales" where they just hope they'll get lucky. men aren't aggressively going after the chubby girl who wears reg clothes and doesn't actively try to look "sexy". they aren't drawn to girls who aren't giving them that playful "come get me" attitude. to them, they see that girl as "just a friend". or a " last resort". or "maybe a lesbian". it's fucking gross.

you might be like "well i know girls like that who have TONS of sex so"... have you seen the levels of desperation stereotypically "unattractive" girls like that have to stoop too? let me tell you, i meet these girl's bf and they're often total scumbags. they're scraping the bottom if the barrel. are you sure these girls haven't stooped to total desperation due to so many years of being overlooked when they acted normally? or ask yourself, were they ever TRULY "unattractive/unappealing" in the first place? u sure you don't just have weird standards??

btw can i point out? the tradeoff? the utter lack of power and choice girls have in this system? girls have to be born pretty and actively attractive with a sexy personality at all times. guys just need to have a moderate amount of money and be occasionally considerate. girls have to be sex objects whereas guys can be just people. bald, fat, somewhat unattractive guys are seen as normal but if a girl looked like that? she'd be perceived as a monster.

as a male working within gender roles you have the freedom to go after as many girls as you want without issue or disrespect. nobody is gonna call you a "slut" for trying to meet many girls. the list goes on and on. why are you mad at girls when you were "born winning"? you are more likely to live a happier life being alone than a girl would constantly being with someone. you should be grateful you aren't them... not mad at them.

but anyways... all this stuff? is super gross. weird toxic shit. it makes sense you would be lonely and angry when you don't wanna play by these rules. or change yourself to be more "appealing". but... why are you getting mad at girls?!?!? why blame women?? shouldn't you be mad at the source? patriarchy. society. gender roles. capitalism. look at who's running the show. bc it isn't the women you're mad at. or "the sjws". it's men in power.

you're seeing your lawn die in the summer sun and getting mad at the grass for daring to dry out. so you go out and stomp on the lawn. instead of using that anger and that energy to water it or give it shade. what are you thinking!? use that "logic" you guys are so proud of and actually try and solve the issue instead of throwing a moral temper tantrum. you talk about girls "bein so overly emotional" but what the heck do you think you're doing here right now?? stop trying to find an easy cheat solution and FIX the problem!

nobody should resort to violence about this stuff, but if you WERE gonna get violent, why isn't it at the people who structured your sexual prison? rather than the girls you wanna convince to fuck you? do you really want a world where girls fuck you out of fear? bc that's rape. would YOU be happy being raped? don't wish for an even rapier world. don't be so stupid and naive. rapey patriarchy is the cause of all your issues to begin with. this is the exact opposite if what you want.

honestly this incel thing just seems like an extremist offshot of the old "friend zone" argument. very similar to how gamergate warped into literal alt-right nazis. it's gross and absurd and you depressed, confused guys are being manipulated. you aren't thinking. please seek therapy or a wider perspective? if you hate feeling lonely and ashamed, why would you wear that shame like a badge of honor? just stop. spread happiness instead and you'll start to receive it back. you can change! it's that simple! it's okay!!!

#long #incel talk #rape mention in readmore #this is horribly written srry

18 notes · View notes