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myckicade · 3 years

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Prompt: Which totally begs the question, does Taza get jealous? What would that look like?

A/N: I just want to say… Thank You. I love Taza, I really do. If they wanted to add him to the show, a bit more (*cough*hint*cough*), I certainly wouldn’t complain.

That said, this was enjoyable to put together. I like the challenge that comes with each different personality.

Jealousy Thursday continues! The fuse was lit with Bishop. Now, let’s fan the flames with Taza!

Title: Unbecoming

Teaser: This is why you should never make dinner reservations.

Tapping your foot against the side of the bar, you steal a look at your watch. A quarter passed six. As opposed to the last time you looked, at eleven minutes passed.

See, this… This is why you should never make dinner reservations.

Something came up. Something always comes up. You’re doing your best to understand that, really, you are. You know what you signed on for, after all. And, it did seem like it was a surprise need to call everyone together, just as you’d been ready to head out.

“I’ve gotta’ steal him from you, for a minute,” Bishop had apologized, with a sincere enough smile. “Fifteen minutes, tops. Have a drink, while you wait. On the house.”

Fifteen minutes… Bishop’s fifteen minutes sure as hell feels a lot like an hour and twenty. (And, yes, you’re still counting). You’d be on your second or third beer, by now, if you didn’t have the presence of mind to know that, duh, you’re driving to the restaurant, tonight. Well, maybe. You’ve already pushed that reservation back, once. After a second time… You might as well just cancel.

A loud ruckus behind you startles you from your thoughts. Glancing over your shoulder, you take in the sight of a selection of Mayans gathered around a table. They’d exited the back room, about fifteen minutes prior, and you were disappointed that Che wasn’t with them. Still are. He and Bishop are still back there, flapping their gums about who knows what. You don’t know, and you don’t ask.

You just… wait.

Anyway, at least you have the noise of the other guys to listen to. From where you sit, it looks as though someone has grown a little over-excited, and tipped a beer over. Right onto Angel. The man has stood to his feet, an irritated look on his face, as he pulls the front of his shirt away from his skin.

“The fuck?!” he bellows, looking to his brother, beside him. “I just opened that beer, bro!”

EZ has a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. “Sorry, man.”

You roll your eyes. You don’t know Angel, all that well, but… If there is anyone destined to be pissed off over a spilled beer, he seems the type. A nice kid, with a big gap between his ears, granted. But, still, a nice kid. Said nice kid is presently yanking off his kutte, draping it over the back of his chair. His shirt comes next, peeled over his abdomen like a fucking GQ model. Would it be overkill to roll your eyes again, you wonder? He’s not a bad-looking guy, no, and his abs certainly are a thing of beauty. (How that’s possible, you can’t fathom, for how much you’ve seen him drink). But, that’s really about it. He’s not your type.

Your type is going to owe you, so big, for missing this dinner date.

You’re about to turn away from the lean, mean, beer-guzzling machine, when something catches your eye. Well, hello. It’s fucking beautiful. Big, but not too showy. Solid, thick. Impossible to miss, and it makes a statement. You haven’t seen that on him, before now. Where has he been hiding it?

Oh, get it out of the gutter. You’re totally staring at Angel’s belt buckle.

It’s a nice buckle. It looks to be some sort of tribal design, worked into the metal with what must have been a sure hand. You really have to go ask him where he got it. You’ve been to every shop for four towns, and no one has anything close to the quality of what he’s wearing. While that design isn’t what you have been looking for, if it’s custom? You’ll pay a pretty penny to get what you want made.

The buckle comes closer, and you can see more detail. What you took for a tribal design reveals itself to be a serpent, of some sort, possibly a dragon. The work is so fine, even the scales are visible.

“See somethin’ you like?”

You jerk your head up, to stare, wide-eyed, right into Angel’s expression of amusement. Apparently, two and two equal five, and you didn’t compute that the buckle coming closer meant that Angel was coming with it. (Heaven, help you). He’s still shirtless, having put his kutte back onto his bare back. And, oh, hell. He must think you were staring at his abs.

You’d hate to have to tell him, his jewelry is more impressive.

Instead, you give him a smile. “Actually… Yes, I do.” This time, his eyes widen, eyebrows going for his hair line. “I really want to know where…” You circle a finger in the air, a few times, slow and lazy, before tapping it against that serpent. “…-You got this little beauty.” Angel looks down, and, fuck, he looks like he could choke. Flustered, and, is that a blush? It’s hysterical, it truly is. Did he really think you wanted a piece of him? Really?

Apparently, you had him going, as he has to look away, and clear his throat. He looks to the girl behind the bar, and nods. “Can I get another beer?” She makes haste, sliding a fresh bottle across the bar top, in the blink of an eye. No wonder this guy has a head as big as all outdoors. These broads just fall all over him, don’t they? Angel lifts the bottle toward his mouth, pausing to give you a fleeting side glance. “Got it across the border.”

“Mexico?” you ask, quite needlessly. You really haven’t thought to check, there. But, then, again… You don’t exactly have occasion to country-hop, very often. “Damn. That’s where all the good stuff hides.”

Angel nods, as he swallows his mouthful of liquid. “No offense,” he begins, tone highly suggestive that he knows he’s going to offend you, regardless. “But, you don’t seem like the belt buckle type.” He turns to face you, leaning to rest his elbow on the bar top. Casual as can be, which is hysterical, when you recall how pink his face had been, just a moment before. “So, was that actually a come-on, or what?”

The balls on this kid. You scoff a laugh. “No offense,” you mimic, tone suggesting more than just offense. You may just straight-up hurt his feelings. “But, you just don’t seem like my type.”

He smirks, and shakes his head. “See, I’m everybody’s type.” At least he took it well, you figure. Angel takes another swig from his bottle, before setting it on the bar. His eyes haven’t left you, all the while, but they are beginning to narrow. “So, if you ain’t tryina’ pick me up… Why the fascination with my wardrobe?”

Or, the lack, thereof. You toss that thought aside, and put on a pleasant smile. “Che has a birthday coming up. I want to get him a buckle, but it’s been a bitch. I’ve been to every shop in the area, and then some... Nada.” You lift your own beer to your lips, and take a sip.

“Yeah, the one guy in town who did ‘em right… I dunno’. He died, or got deported, or somethin’.”

Well. You haven’t choked on a drink, in a while. This is refreshing.

Angel’s eyes widen, again. “You gonna’ make it, or what?” A couple of coughs get you through, and you soon remember how to breathe. You nod, by way of response, pointedly ignoring Angel’s snicker. “Well, if you don’t kill yourself on that shit…” He shrugs. “You tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll check the shop, next time I’m down. Send you some pictures, if you want?”

Oh. Oh, well. “That’d be very nice of you.” You suddenly feel a little bad for all the rotten thoughts you’ve had about him. Just a little. Reaching into your pocket, you produce your business card, and hand it over to Angel. “Thank you.”

The grin that covers his face… Well, there’s no mistaking that he and EZ are related. “I’m a nice guy,” he preens, pocketing your card. “Just ask anybody.”

“Funny,” comes a voice from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you come face-to-face with Bishop. “I tend to think you’re a bit of a pussy.” Angel rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond. Must just be good-natured ribbing. Bishop turns a smile on you, next. “Sorry to have kept him for so long.” He’s not, and you know it. Business is business, according to Che. It takes as long as it takes.

“It’s all right,” you reply, returning the smile. “I had decent company.” You eye Angel, who wiggles his fingers in a cutie-pie wave. How ridiculous. You look over Bishop’s shoulder, next. “Where is the old man?”

Bishop chuckles. “Little boy’s room.” You smirk. “Should be right out.”

“Thank you, Bishop.”

“Hey, no problem, (y/n).” Bishop pats you on the shoulder, before collecting a beer from the bartender, one he didn’t even have to ask for. You know his status around here, but it still amazes you, somewhat, to see it in action. “You and Taza have a good night, huh?” You nod, and he heads for the table of Mayans across the room.

Beside you, Angel is back to grinning. “Big night, tonight?”

You don’t even get the chance to respond, before Che is slipping up behind you. “Probably not anymore,” he sighs, looking from Angel, to you. He grimaces. “I’m sorry, (y/n). Think we can still make it?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “I have a better idea.” Standing from your chair, you face the man you’ve been waiting a long, long time for. And, you don’t just mean the last few hours.

“Oh?” Che sounds intrigued. It’s a good sign.

“I’ve got a frozen pizza, and a half gallon of ice cream back at my place.”

He purses his lips, for a second. “…-What flavour?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s so damned adorable. “Black raspberry.” He inhales, deeply, and you know you have him. “How about it? The game is coming on, too. It’ll be a perfect Thursday night.”

Che laughs, quietly. “Throw in a beer? You’ve got a deal.”

“We’ll stop at the store, on the way home.” You’re practically beaming, all frustration at missing your reservation forgotten. It amazes you, sometimes, that Che has the power to do that, just by existing. You grab your jacket, and look back over your shoulder. “Thank you for your company, Angel.”

He lifts his beer bottle to you, in salute. “Likewise. I’ll be in touch.” He pushes off the bar, and heads back to the table. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Angel,” Che chimes in, before sliding his arm around you. He sounds tired, his arm sitting a little heavy over your shoulders. “You ready?”

“Beyond,” you agree, and start for the door.

There are three slices of pizza left of the table, in front of you. The game is in the third quarter, and there’s a third Panther injured, and sitting on the sidelines. Taza is on his third beer, and the dog between you, on the couch, is serving as your third wheel.

Taza isn’t big on coincidences, nor does he lean toward superstition. But, the number three is weighing on his mind.

Neither of you really has a stake in this game. The score is average, the commentators are pretty typical, and you can’t seem to understand how Houston is losing, when Carolina lost Christian McCaffery to a hamstring injury, in the first half. You’ve grumbled about it, at least a dozen times. They’re doing their best, is the best answer Taza can come up with. It nearly spring-boarded off his tongue, before he could stop it. It would be a dead giveaway, that his focus is somewhere else. And, he’s trying, he really is. Pizza, drinks, football. It’s a very, very normal night.

Except that, no, no, it really isn’t.

Now, it can be said that Taza is a lot of things. Peaceable, where possible, sure. He’s getting too old for fist-fights, every other day. Intuitive, absolutely. He probably wouldn’t be V.P., otherwise. The position wasn’t designed for a complete dumbass. And, for everything that Taza is, there are plenty of things that he isn’t.

Stupid.

Irrational.

Young.

All right, that last one’s probably just vanity talking. (Never much took himself for a victim of that one, either). It doesn’t make it any less true. He’s holding up all right, he supposes. He can still ride, and hold his weapon straight. He has his hair, and his sight. All of his teeth. Sure, he gets up in the middle of the night, these days, the need to piss so bad he’s frequently sworn off all liquids, after noon. He doesn’t have the stamina he once had, loathe though he is to admit it, but it’s not as if he has a lot of trouble in the bedroom. Once in a while, things may not go… according to plan, but you haven’t complained. You might ask, “You doing all right?”, more often than he appreciates, at times, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

Well. That was a peppy little inventory of his face-first slide into old age.

Really, all-in-all, things are going pretty well. The two of you mesh in an interesting way, given the generation gap. You don’t treat him like a geriatric, or as your elder. You understand a lot of his outdated references, far more than he has ever encountered in anyone of… any age, honestly. Life, philosophy, it’s like… It’s like talking to himself, sometimes, when he talks to you. You just get it. It’s beautiful, and amazing, and he can’t believe that, out of all the billions of people on this planet, he found you. Moreover, that you want to be with him.

This is probably why he can’t get the scene at the clubhouse bar out of his head.

He wants to ask what you and Angel were talking about. He wants to know, so fucking badly. You’d been staring at Angel – a very shirtless Angel – when Taza stepped into the room. And, that stare was intent. Focused. You’d established, very early in your relationship, that looking will always be a forgivable offense. Appreciation of another being doesn’t jeopardize your love for one another. But… You’d touched. Your fingers were on Angel’s belt. The kid was in his smoothest stance, beside you. “I’ll be in touch.”

He wants to ask, but he can’t. Jealousy isn’t very becoming.

Angel is a nice kid, Taza supposes, all things considered. A bit of a man whore, maybe. Definitely a walking ad for penicillin. The ladies – and, plenty of the guys – love the hell out of him. A few tacos short of a combination plate, but a real talker. Fun-loving, and energetic.

Little bastard is probably a fucking three.

Heaving a sigh, Taza settles more heavily into the couch. It’s a comfortable sectional, and – embarrassing, though it is – he’s more than just a little bit in love with your chaise lounge. You have the best taste in furniture of anyone he’s ever encountered. Truthfully, you have the best taste in everything. Music, food, décor. And, according to you, your taste in men is absolutely impeccable. Your words, not his. He tries to draw on that, as something close to comfort.

It’s not that he’s suspicious, not really. Not really. In the entire run of your relationship, he’s seen you deep in conversation with other Club members half a dozen times, at best. Twice, you’ve given Coco advice on feminine needs for his daughter. Creeper has asked for details about your car, trying to decide whether it is worth buying his old lady one like it. Another conversation had been with Hank, the two of you tuning out the rest of the room, while he gave you tips on where to buy the best treats for Flint.

Smiling, Taza reaches down to pet the mentioned pooch’s head, where it rests on his thigh. He knows his visitor is bothered, not having left his side, all night.

Bothered. That’s one way to put it. And, quite frankly, Taza feels like an old fool. You’ve been entirely honest about your preferences, that you have zero interest in men your age, and younger. That they’re all ‘overgrown children’, and ‘don’t have their shit together’. But, according to you, the worst part is that they don’t understand you. You operate on different levels.

You and Taza operate on the same level. He understands you. And, you tell him, all the time, that you find his age to be a turn-on. You’re forever leaving him in a silent fluster, telling him he’s gorgeous, and sexy. That he’s the only man that’s ever made you feel so good. So whole. You don’t care that he’s set in his ways, because it doesn’t stop you from trying to urge him into trying new things. You don’t care that you sometimes wear him out after a single round, telling him that sleep is ‘a beautiful thing’. You don’t care that he doesn’t sport a perfect six-pack, unless he’s carrying a six-ring of your favourite beer. You still make him feel desirable. You make him feel young, and worthy of the love and attention you bestow upon him.

You’re amazing. Everything he never thought he’d find in another soul, ever again.

“Well, that sucks,” you complain, pulling Taza’s wandering attentions back to the television. He’s been so absorbed in his own worries, he’s missed the entire fourth quarter. At least he’d called the win, in Carolina’s favour. “So, whaddaya’ say, old man? Ice cream, and SVP?”

Taza looks at you, for a moment. A long moment, really taking you in. Your smile is so soft, teetering on tired. Your hair is tussled, probably from a rough finish on that game. (Hey, nobody told you to root for Houston, tonight). Yes, you’re amazing. You’re beautiful, and you’re perfect, and you don’t need to tell him what you and Angel were chatting over. He just needs to trust in you, and in the security of your relationship.

“Sounds good to me, (y/n).” You lean over, careful of Flint, and press a gentle kiss to Taza’s lips, before getting off of the couch. Taza watches you walk away, before closing his eyes, and taking in a deep breath. He holds it for a second, then slowly lets it out through his mouth.

No, jealousy is not very becoming, at all. Thankfully, it has no place, here and now. After all, he’s the one on your couch, cuddled up with your dog. He’s the one who gets to enjoy your company. And, come Hell or high water, he’s the one you’ll wake up with, tomorrow morning.

For the record, Taza loves the belt buckle you gift him for his birthday. The metal has been worked to include four incredibly detailed feathers, adorned with three turquoise stones, and an ethically-recovered bear claw. He seems to like that part the best.

And, by the time you tell him that Angel helped make it possible, he’s forgotten all about his insecurities. All he remembers of that night is how the ice cream melted on the counter, after he followed you to the kitchen, lifted you into his arms, and carried you to the bedroom. He’d had the strangest urge to show you how sorry he was for ruining your night out.

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#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c.#taza x reader #taza romero x reader #taza x you #taza romero x you #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic #Jealousy Thursday #che taza

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.

WARNINGS: Mentions of [lots of] blood, use of the 'f' word literally ONCE, uhh, I think that's it?

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

El sits on the floor of Mike's basement, back to the couch. Candy wrappers and crumbs were scattered around a finished puzzle of a beautiful green forest. The strange plastic ship, floating in the air in front of her. It suddenly drops to the ground as her attention is brought to the Supercomm on the couch. She picks up the device and clicks it on, bored with the static that comes from the other end, she soon abandons the device and stands up.

She walks up the steps, eager to explore the house more. When she reaches the top of the steps, she cautiously peeks around the corner. When she decides no one is home and the coast is clear, she continues to explore the house.

With the house to herself, she had more time to linger, and appreciate and explore. It was fascinating to her, and yet it made her sad. Could she have had a life like this? She didn't know what to think when she admired every object, every picture on the wall. There was one in particular that caught her eye.

It was a small photograph, but you could tell it was important. It was another picture of Mike and his friends. Only, they were younger. They were playing and splashing around in the water, a lake it looked like, surrounded by beautiful green trees. Each of them had an arm wrapped around each other forming a line, and their pants were rolled up to their knees.

The young boy on the very left had messy black hair, who El immediately recognized as Mike. He was smiling brightly at her from the picture. A young Lucas to his right, who wore a rather proud grin. Dustin was looking at the two, more specifically Lucas; he had been laughing when the photo was taken.

Will, she believed his name was, had one scrawny arm draped loosely around Dustin, however, he had his full attention on a very cheery looking Y/n who stood proudly showing off a very small frog to the camera. He had daisies on his head, tangled in his hair, and a gleaming smile showed off a missing tooth. He was holding the frog so delicately.

But it wasn't Y/n, or even Mike that caught her eye. It was the way Will was looking at Y/n. His eyes held a certain fondness and appreciation, his smile warm and genuine. El tilted her head ever so slightly, thinking. Something deep inside her was gnawing at her, a feeling that was foreign to her. Shaking her head, she moved on to the rest of the living room.

She went back to the funny chair Mike had shown her and took a seat. She reached over and pulled on the lever, sending her back and forth as it kicked her feet out. She looked around curiously as the chair rocked her back and forth.

El noticed the weird device on the table beside her and picked it up. It was a strange curved thing attached by a curly wire. It had many buttons, every one of them had a number on them. It let out a strange noise, barely audible from the top. She brought it up to her ear to listen to the endless monotone hum. Not knowing what else to do she mimicked the tone, just for fun before putting it back.

She stood up from the chair and sat herself down on her knees in front of the TV. Curious, she ran her fingers down the side until she felt the button and pressed it. A brief crackle of static rang out and as soon as it came on it was replaced with the voice of an older man, the screen lit up in front of her.

"...was occupying a large part of Lebanon. Today, Syria has become a home for-"

Click.

El pressed another button.

The moving picture on the screen changed, where many bright flashes of color dance across the screen. A fake man with yellow hair held a sword as he exclaimed.

"I have the power!"

Click.

"...gift that will last forever. From the Harmony Treasures' collection-"

Click.

A beautiful melody came from the TV set and El's eyes widened in surprise.

Click.

"On the beach and in the sun"

El froze. She recognized the rolling tin can that appeared on the TV. Her breathing began to quicken as she fought the memories back.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

The all too familiar humming and beeping of the machines echoed off of the cold, isolating walls. Eleven sat at the same table, with the same camera facing the same window with the same adults who watch her and study her. Nothing was new, and she feared nothing ever would be. All she wants is to go this over with. Wanting to get the damn wires off of her head.

Yet, she sat still, compliant, unmoving. Never taking her eyes off of Papa as she watched him hand the clipboard to one of the men and give her a nod of his head. She turned her head and attention to the small Coke drink. Her eyes bore into the empty can and she concentrated.

Her head shook ever so slightly as she focused, straining. It was difficult, but she was able to do it. The can caved into itself with a loud 'crack' and it wasn't until the monitors stopped did she realize how loud they had been. She looked back to Papa, looking for his approval.

He stood unmoving, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. She felt her nose run damp, a warm liquid oozed from her nose. She blinked, confused and slowly brought her hand up to her upper lip, realizing she was bleeding. She looked to Papa, expectantly. He only smiled a cold empty grin.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Coke is it! Coke is it!"

El quickly pushed the first button, shutting the TV off. Breathing heavily, she stood up and made her way to the basement.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

My back was beginning to hurt from hunching over for so long, but nevertheless, I continued looking. Lucas needs ammo for his wrist rocket, so naturally, the four of us were currently scouring the schoolyard for rocks.

"How about this one?" Mike asks, walking up to Dustin.

Dustin examines the rock Mike handed to him.

"Too big for the sling." He shrugs, tossing the rock to the grass. "So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo." Lucas says as he searches for that.

"You don't know that," I mumble, Lucas, however, doesn't hear me.

"Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos." Mike adds.

Lucas turns to Mike, agitated. "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?"

I roll my eyes, and straighten up, stretching out my back.

"What are you talking about?" Mike sighs.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

"You look at her all, like... 'Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much!'" Lucas teases, grabbing Mike in for a hug before getting down on one knee. "'Would you marry me?' I'm telling you, man, you're just as bad as Will!" He stood back up when he said the last-

'Wait...What?'

"What?" I asked, completely thrown off.

The boys freeze, Lucas especially. Lucas excluded, the boys all look at me with awkward smiles on their faces. Dustin chuckles and gives a still frozen Lucas a few pats on the arm.

"Good job, man. Real smooth."

"Guys, what is going on?" I asked exasperated, crossing my arms.

"Shit," Lucas whispers, closing his eyes.

"Lucas..."

Mike wears a triumphant grin on his face and looks expectantly at Lucas.

"Yeah, Lucas. Tell him."

Lucas sighs, and stiffly turns around, his change of attitude dramatic. He looks around once or twice before growing stern with me.

"You, and Will?" He suggests.

"What about us? What does that have to do with- Oh come on... You can't be serious. He does not like me."

"Literally everyone knows he is totally in love with you." He scoffs.

I scoff in return. "Love? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Am I wrong?" He turns to the boys, who hesitantly shrug.

He turns back to me, a look screaming 'There you have it.'

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

"W-What? W-what ar- No!" My words are caught in my throat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

'No, I don't!'

It takes moments for me to recover. "Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say he does love me. How can you know for sure, huh? It's not like he told you!"

"Uhh, yeah! Might as well have. He didn't deny it!"

My heart stops, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

'Will? And me?'

"Look what we have here!"

'Oh, God. Not now.'

I roll my eyes and before I can stop myself I speak. "What do you want, Troll?"

My eyes widen at my sudden boldness but I remain confident. I stare down the two boys who have been bullying us for as long as we've attended this school.

"You better watch your mouth, freak-"

"Back off!" Dustin yells, cutting him off.

Troy looks over to Dustin, looking prepared to throw more insults at my brother but something changes his mind and he cools off. A smug smile tugs at his lips.

"Or what?" Troy spits.

Dustin falls silent, and Troy continues.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What are you losers doing back here anyway?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." Troy's goon laughs.

Anger begins to take over and my blood starts to boil.

"That's not funny. It's serious. He's in danger." Dustin immediately cuts in.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says."

'Where's that damn rock?'

"He said he was probably killed by some other queer."

I feel a lurch in my chest, and I can practically feel my vision going red.

"Come on. Just ignore them." Mike soothes, not only to me but to Dustin and Lucas as well.

He's right. I need to get out of here. I storm off, ready to shove him in the shoulder as I pass but suddenly I feel something catch my foot and I fall to the ground. A sudden wave of searing pain explodes on my chin when I hit the ground.

Dazed and confused, I push myself up enough to see a large, rather bloody rock just inches from my face.

I groan, rolling over on my back, I hear laughing and frantic footsteps.

"Y/n!" Dustin and Mike run over to me, Lucas storms up to Troy.

Dustin and Mike each grab an arm and help me sit up. I hesitantly bring a hand up to my chin and I hiss in pain. I look at my fingers and they are absolutely covered in blood.

'Holy crap.'

I groan and look to Lucas worried. He stands firm and tall, right up in Troy's face.

"Leave us. The fuck. Alone." He says through clenched teeth.

My eyes triple in size, surprised by Lucas's actions.

Troy and his friend laugh and walk away. Repeating Lucas in a mocking voice.

"You okay Y/n?" He reaches out his hand.

I gladly take it. However, I get a little lightheaded as I stand. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

I look down and I see splots of blood already sprinkling my shirt.

'Great. This will be easy to explain to mom.'

"You still have that first aid kit?"

I close my eyes, sighing.

"Crap. No. I left it at Mike's." I sigh.

"We better get you to the nurse's office then."

"No, I-I'm fine." I sigh, wincing at the pain.

"Are you sure? You're bleeding, like a lot." Mike says.

"Yeah, I'm good. As long as I stop the bleeding, I'll be fine.. My body has always been able to heal quicker than most, anyways."

"He's right. I've seen it."

I offer a small smile. "Well, I at least better go get a tissue or something. I'll be right back." I say.

The boys nod, and I head off to the bathroom. My mind wanders back to what Lucas was telling me earlier, and the weird feeling in my stomach returns...

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #stranger things x reader #x m!reader #m!reader #x male!reader #holly jolly

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maxinaptak · 3 years

Text

(AoT/ SNK) Key to Salvation: Eren X Abused!Reader

WARNING: REFRENCED NON-CON, FORCED DRUG USE

This is a rough one you guys. Proceed with caution.

You groaned as you rubbed the fairly fresh bruise on your shoulder, letting your head fall against the locker in front of you. The bruise on your shoulder wasn’t the only one you had; in fact, you had several more, both new and old, littering your body. You groaned again as you heard your best friend’s voice coming down the hallway. You lifted your head off your locker and pulled your sweater sleeve down your arm more, making sure it covered your bruise and the needle marks.

“________,” Eren called loudly, causing you to cringe lightly at his volume, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

He stopped next to you and looked at you with such innocent turquoise eyes. Oh, how you loved those innocent eyes. You could never tell Eren about what was going on at home. You just couldn’t.

“I was sick, that’s all,” you lied, faking a smile up at the boy, “Just a little cold. I'm fine now though.”

It almost pained you physically to lie to him, but how could you tell him that you had spent the last three days being given drugs against your will in a dirty basement where dozens of men abused your strung out, limp body while your mother collected their payment.

“Well, I'm glad you’re feeling better!” Eren said, smiling brightly.

You smiled almost sadly and sighed. Eren was your sweet, caring best friend. He had been since you were both in diapers. Fifteen years of friendship and you still couldn’t tell him what was happening; couldn’t tell him that you need help, beg for his help.

“Eren, will you lower your voice? I can hear you all the way down the hallway.” Mikasa, Eren’s adopted sister, said, flicking the brunet in the ear.

“Ow!” He cried, cupping his assaulted ear.

She rolled her eyes and looked at you.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better ________,” Mikasa asked, frowning, “You look more tired than normal.”

You faked another smile and said, “Yep, just fine!”

In all reality, you were going through a nasty withdraw from the clonazepam and oxy your mother normally gave you. This last time, she decided to give you something else to sedate you through your ‘work’, something she injected several times into your veins over the days. You had a feeling that if anyone would notice something was off, it would be Mikasa.

The other girl didn’t look too convinced, but nodded anyway and said, “If you say so. It’s almost time for class to start, so we should get going. You too Eren. If you’re late again, mom will have your ass.”

The tall boy rolled his eyes and hugged you goodbye. You tried your hardest to hide your pained flinch as he squeezed you tightly, but you knew Mikasa had seen it. Once he left, Mikasa set her hard gaze on you again.

“I saw that,” she said, crossing her arms, “What was that about?”

“Ok, so I may have hurt my back trying a new yoga pose yesterday. But I wasn’t gonna tell him that.” You said, jutting your thumb in the direction Eren had left in.

It wasn’t a total lie this time. Your back did hurt, but it sure as hell wasn’t from doing yoga. Your slightly older friend rolled her eyes and turned to head to your first hour class. You quickly ran after her, trying your best not to limp. You reached your AP Psychology class and took your seats. Your teacher had the desks in clusters of six or seven seats and you two got lucky enough to be put with your friends.

“Hey guys.” You said, plopping your book down onto your desk.

Krista, Ymir, Sascha, and Max all smiled back and greeted you both. You made small talk for a few minutes before the bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. You turned your attention to your teacher, Mr. O’Neil, and swallowed hard when you saw what he was writing on the board.

Drug Addiction: The effects, the signs, and withdrawal symptoms.

‘Fuck my life with a cactus….’ You thought, slowly sliding down in your seat a little.

You prayed to whatever god there may be (though you didn’t really believe that there was one anymore) that none of your friends, especially Mikasa, would notice that you were exhibiting some of the signs and symptoms.

You had managed to make it through the class with your teeth clenched and practically sprinted out of the room when it was over. You made it to your economics class in record time and slumped into your seat, letting your head slam down on your desk.

“Damn kid, rough morning?”

You slowly raised your head to look at your student teacher, Levi Ackerman. Apparently, he was a distant cousin to Mikasa, but she didn’t really know him.

“Rough couple of days.” You admitted, voice flat and eyes dull.

The short male regarded you carefully, as he had taken note that you had been absent for the past three days and went to his bag.

“Alright kiddo, I’ve got some dark chocolate and a Red Machine Naked Juice,” he said, placing said items on your desk in front of you, “You look like you’ve been through some shit, and you need these more than I do. Besides, it looks like you’ve lost a shit ton of weight since the semester started.”

Your face flushed bright red. You didn’t think Mr. Ackerman paid that much attention to any of his students, let alone you.

“T-thanks Mr. Ackerman….” You said, opening the chocolate bar and taking a small bite.

“No problem kid.” He said, turning to go back to his desk, but stopping.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to you and crouching down next to you.

He waited for you to meet his gaze and quietly said, “________, you can come to me if you need to talk or if you need help, ok?”

You stared at him in shock and slowly nodded. You’d never heard him speak like that and it almost freaked you out. He nodded at you and returned to his desk. You let your eyes fall onto your desk and stared at it blankly.

“________?”

You jumped and whipped around to see Eren setting his stuff down on the desk next to you.

“What was that all about?” He asked, discreetly nodding his head in your teacher’s direction.

You swallowed hard and stumbled over your words as you tried to reply.

“N-nothing,” you said, averting your eyes from his, “He was just telling me that I looked like crap and needed to eat something, so he gave me this, that’s all.”

You quickly grabbed the bottle of juice and tried to open it, but struggled. You knew you had been having a bit of a hard time doing normal things, but never had you struggled to open a beverage bottle. You frowned and stopped trying to open the juice.

“Here, I got it,” Eren said, taking the bottle from you and cracking it open easily with his large hands, “I'm kinda shocked he’d be nice enough to give you something, but you should drink this. It’ll help you feel better.”

He carefully put the bottle back into your hand and you weakly smiled at him. You took a long drink from the juice and sighed, satisfied by the taste. Soon the room was full and the bell rang, class starting.

Levi’s eyes scanned over his students as they worked on the small packet he had given them to complete before the end of class. He heard a snore from beside him and looked at the teacher he was supposed to be shadowing, Dot Pixis, and rolled his eyes when he saw him asleep again. How that man became a teacher was beyond him. He heard footsteps approaching his desk and turned his attention forward again.

“Eren and I are finished with the packet.” ________ said, holding out two packets.

“As always, finished before anyone else. The brat is lucky you partner with him every time.” Levi said, shaking his head and reaching out for the papers.

As ________ pulled her hand away, she accidently knocked over the cup of pens and pencils on the desk.

“Shit, sorry Mr. Ackerman. I’ll take care of it.” She said, crouching down quickly.

“It’s fine, kid, don’t worry about it.” He said, looking over the side of his desk at her.

His eyes widened as the left sleeve of her sweater raised up, revealing a bruise vaguely shaped like a handprint and several track marks on her upper forearm. He froze, not knowing what to do as he watched her quickly pick up the scattered writing utensils and put them back into the cup. He swallowed hard and tried to formulate words, say anything to her, but he couldn’t manage it, too shocked. She smiled smally at him before going back to her desk. His eyes followed her and jumped over to Eren, her best friend. If he couldn’t talk to ________ directly, he sure as hell could talk to the brat.

“Jaeger, see me after class.” He said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Eren groaned loudly.

“What the fuck did I do this time?” Eren practically whined.

He dramatically draped himself over where your desks were pushed together, making you breathe out a laugh.

“I don’t know, but this happens at least once a week and you know it.” You said, petting his shoulder length hair.

He sighed deeply and peeked up at you with his beautiful turquoise eyes, pouting. You stared at him and couldn’t help but smile lovingly at him. You’d never told anyone, but you’d been in love with the tall boy since you were eleven and he was twelve. He’d always been there for you, doing everything he could to make you laugh and smile. Usually, he’d drag Armin into his antics too, but it was all in good fun and you all laughed together.

“Your hair’s get long,” you murmured, playing with the little bun that was tied at the base of his skull, “Are you gonna cut it?”

Eren hummed and said, “Nah, I kinda like it like this. What do you think about it? Does it look bad?”

You shook your head and said, “No, I like it. I think it looks really good on you.”

“Then I’m definitely keeping it long.” He said, smiling up at you.

You smiled back and continued to talk to him for the rest of class. When the bell rang, you gathered your things and gave Eren a sympathetic look.

“I’ll see you later Eren. Have fun with Mr. A.” You said, waving.

“Yeah,” he groaned, standing up, “Have fun in anatomy with Armin. Embarrass him for me, would ya?”

“Sure! I’ve got a good dirty joke or two that I haven’t told in front of him yet.” You said, grinning.

Eren sighed and picked up his bag before walking up to Levi’s desk.

“You wanted to see me sir?” He asked, shoulders slumped.

Levi nodded and said, “Yes. What class do you have next?”

Eren was confused but answered, “German. Why?”

“Are you doing well in that class?” Levi asked.

“I’ve been speaking German since I was born basically,” Eren said, still confused as all hell, “My dad’s family lives in Germany, and my grandparents don’t speak English very well. I only took the class so I could get an easy A…. Why do you ask?”

Levi stood from his desk and motioned for Eren to follow him as he said, “I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be a problem if you missed part of the class. I need to speak to you, but somewhere private.”

Eren was beyond confused now but followed his teacher anyway. The shorter man always seemed rather serious, but this time, he seemed deadly serious about whatever it was. He followed Levi to one of the biology labs and went inside.

“Hanji, I need to borrow your lab for a little bit,” Levi said, addressing one of the other student teachers he was friends with, “I need to speak to Eren alone.”

The crazy science teacher looked up from her notes and said, “Oh! Ok, sure! Just let me know when you’re done!”

She quickly left the room and closed the door behind her. Levi sat down and motioned for Eren to do the same. The younger boy did, facing his teacher.

“What’s going on Mr. Ackerman?” Eren asked, frowning.

Levi took a deep breath and said, “I need to talk to you about ________.”

Eren’s eyebrows furrowed and he asked, “________? What about her?”

“Something’s going on with her. Has she said anything to you?” He asked.

Eren thought for a moment before shaking his head as he said, “I mean, she said that she had a cold and that’s why she wasn’t at school the last few days. Other than that, no.”

Levi nodded and thought for a moment before he asked, “Eren, you’re her best friend, right?”

The brunet nodded.

“Do you pay close attention to her? The way she looks, the way she acts?”

Eren blinked a few times before shyly nodding his head.

“Then have you noticed that she’s lost quite a bit of weight since the semester started?” Levi asked.

Eren nodded again and said, “I tried to ask her about it once, but she got really upset about it and snapped at me, so I didn’t say anything after that. But I noticed that she was losing more and more weight as the weeks went on. And every few weeks she looks really sick and upset, but she won’t talk to me about it….”

Levi sighed deeply again and said, “Eren, I saw something on her arm today, in class when she was picking up the pens. That’s why I asked you to stay after.”

“What was on her arm?” Eren asked, worried and confused at the same time.

“There was a large bruise that looked like a handprint. And she had several… track marks on her forearm.” Levi said, letting his own shoulders drop in sadness.

“What are track marks?” Eren asked, still confused.

Levi looked up at Eren and said, “Needle marks, Eren. From using drugs.”

Eren’s eyes widened.

“Drugs?! No way! ________ would never!” Eren said, denial evident in his voice.

Levi sighed again and said, “Eren I know what track marks look like. It’s no secret that I grew up on the streets. A lot of people I ran with did drugs back then. I know what I saw.”

Eren’s heart dropped into his stomach, knowing that his teacher couldn’t be wrong. He thought back over the months and remembered seeing ________’s forearms and elbow crooks all the time. There were never any needle marks before. Bruises, sure, but ________ was clumsy.

“I-it must be new…,” he said, looking down at his hands, “She’s never had needle marks on her arms before….”

“What about the bruises?” Levi asked.

Eren shrugged and said, “She’s always had a few bruises here and there, ever since we were kids. She’s clumsy as hell, always has been. And she bruises easily because she’s anemic.”

“Has she always been anemic?”

Eren shook his head and said, “No…. It started around the time we started high school. That’s also when she started to look sick and upset every few weeks…. And her weight started fluctuating and her eating habits changed too….”

Eren’s eyebrows furrowed again and he started to get more upset, thinking about how something was wrong with his best friend, the girl he was in love with, and he didn’t even realize, even though he saw everything.

“I should have known something was wrong….” Eren whispered, clenching his fists.

“Eren, it’s not your fault. You guys are kids still. It’s not your job to watch every little detail about her.” Levi said, trying to make the teen feel less guilty.

“But I love her,” Eren almost cried, a desperate look on his face, “I have been watching every detail about her for years! I should have known!”

Eren hung his head and let out a shaky breath, resting his head in his hands. Levi looked at his student sadly. He knew that the boy was in love with ________; it was pretty obvious, at least to him. And he could see that ________ loved him back. It was beyond him why the two hadn’t began dating yet, but that was beside the point at the moment.

“Now you know something’s up with her. Use the information you have now and talk to her.” Levi said, putting a hand on Eren’s shoulder.

The younger male looked up at his teacher and sighed, nodding.

Levi nodded back and said, “Alright. Now come on. I’ll write you a note to excuse you for missing class.”

Eren nodded again and sadly trailed behind his teacher. He got his note and trudged to his German class. He gave the note to Herr Ham and took his seat in the back of the classroom, spacing out. It didn’t matter if her paid attention or not. His teacher was horrible and taught in a ridiculous way that confused most students. The only reason he was top of the class was because he’s a native speaker. All he could think about was ________. He would see her again fifth hour for lunch and he didn’t know how he could face her without saying anything. He didn’t want to talk to her in front of their friends. He sighed and rested his head on his arms on his desk.

“For fuck’s sake….” You muttered, sitting back on your legs.

You were currently on your knees in a bathroom stall, retching into the toilet every so often. It didn’t surprise you that this was happening; you were going through oxycodone withdrawal after all. Nausea and vomiting were normal. You’d gone through this a few times before, but never this badly. You wondered if whatever drug your mother gave you the last few days was making it worse this time around.

“Oh god,” you groaned, feeling bile rise in your throat again, “Not again…!”

You heaved into the toilet again, hot tears running down your cheeks. All you had had to eat that day was what Mr. Ackerman had given you during econ, and there was no way any of it still resided in your stomach. All you could taste was stomach acid, your throat burning. You checked the time on your phone and sighed. Fifth period was almost over and you knew Eren would be worried that you weren’t there. You tried to get up and leave a few times, but it was obvious that your body wasn’t done. You shakily unlocked your phone and typed out a choppy text to Eren.

Eren frowned as he arrived at his normal lunch table. Armin and Max were sitting together, holding hands and feeding each other like normal; Mikasa and Annie were sitting across from each other, glaring at each other with an awkward sexual tension between them, like normal; and Jean and Marco were holding hands and eating quietly, like normal. What was not like normal, was the fact that ________ was missing. Eren was always the last one to arrive at the table and ________ was always sitting in one of the two open seats left at the table when he got there.

“Has anyone seen ________?” He asked, sitting down.

Max swallowed a strawberry Armin had fed her and said, “Not since third hour.”

“I saw her heading towards the cafeteria on my way here,” Marco said, frowning slightly, “But then she ran into the bathroom. I haven’t seen her since.”

Eren frowned deeply and stared down at his food. He sighed and ultimately started to pick at his food, eventually shoveling it into his mouth quickly as his dumb teenage body demanded him to. Near the end of the hour, his phone vibrated. He fished it out of his pocket and looked at it. It was a text from ________.

Felt sick, stuck in bathroom. Sorry. See you later.

Eren frowned again and sighed.

“What’s wrong Eren?” Mikasa asked, finally breaking her gaze away from her (not so secret) secret girlfriend.

“________ texted me. She said she was feeling sick and was stuck in the bathroom.” Eren said, shoulders slumping.

Max frowned and said, “I can go check on her if you’re really worried.”

Eren looked up at the red-haired girl gratefully and said, “Yes, please.”

She smiled and nodded. She leaned over to Armin and gave him several quick kisses before getting up and leaving the cafeteria.

“________?”

You jumped as you heard someone call your name. You knew that voice; it was your friend Max.

“M-Max?” You choked out, coughing.

You heard her run to the large stall you were in and try the door.

“________, are you ok? Eren said you were sick and you don’t sound good at all!” She said, voice full of concern.

You weakly moved to open the door to let her in before going back to slumping against the wall. She quickly came in and dropped to her knees in front of you.

“Oh my god, hon, are you ok?” She asked, gently putting her hands on your arms.

You sighed as more tears slipped from your eyes and shook your head as you breathed, “No…. I’ve been throwing up all hour….”

“Oh no, ________...,” Max said, looking at you sadly, “You need to go to the nurse and go home!”

You sighed again and said, “My mom won’t come get me….”

“I’ll take you home. They’ve let me do it for Armin before, and he wasn’t nearly this sick.” Max said, pulling her phone out.

She called Armin and asked for him to come to the bathroom and help. She hung up and pocketed her phone before gently stroking your (h/c) hair.

A minute later the door to the bathroom opened and you heard Armin call out, “Max, ________? Is there anyone else in there or can we come in?”

“It’s just us, come in.” Max called back.

Soon Armin was in the doorway of the stall, Eren behind him. Eren quickly pushed his way past him and gently scooped you up into his arms. Armin grabbed your backpack and followed you out of the bathroom. A security guard saw you being carried out of the bathroom by Eren and Armin following behind and asked what was going on.

“Our friend got really sick and needs to go to the nurse, but she couldn’t walk. I couldn’t carry her on my own, so I asked them to come and help.” Max explained, giving the older man puppy dog eyes.

The security guard was a little flustered by the look she was giving him and he let you guys go. You giggled a little, knowing your friend would use her incredibly seductive puppy dog eyes to get you out of any trouble. Armin may not like it, but you thought it was hilarious. Your little group made its way to the nurse’s office and Max explained the situation to the woman. Taking one look at you, the nurse gave Max permission to drive you home. She called the office and asked for a teacher to escort you out so you wouldn’t get in trouble. You were a little surprised to see Mr. Ackerman walk into the room, concern written all over his usually stoic face.

“I knew you were feeling sick this morning, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” He said, frowning.

You looked down shyly and shrugged your shoulders as best you could in Eren’s arms. Your group, now escorted by your teacher, made its way outside to Max’s car. Eren carefully placed you in the passenger seat and handed you a plastic bag for ‘just in case’. Armin put your bag in the backseat along with Max’s and kissed the girl before she got in. The three males stepped back and your friend pulled out of the parking spot. She drove carefully to your house and parked in your driveway.

“Do you need help inside?” She asked, turning to look at you.

You hesitated, not know if you really wanted to bother her anymore.

“You know what, don’t answer,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt, “I’m helping you to as least the front door.”

She got out of the car and you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your door opened and Max helped you out of the car. She grabbed your bag from the back. She took your arm and helped you slowly walk to the door. You unlocked it and stepped inside, taking your bag from your friend.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling at your friend.

She smiled back and said, “Anytime. And if you’re not feeling better by Saturday morning, one of us is taking you to the doctor.”

You opened your mouth to say no but you didn’t get a chance.

“No arguments,” Max said, finality in her voice, “If you’re still this sick, you’re going to the doctor.”

You sighed in defeat and said, “Ok. Thanks for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully.”

Max smiled at you sadly and nodded before getting back in her car and driving away, heading back to school. You closed the door and dragged your feet towards your room.

“What the fuck are you doing home?”

You silently groaned and turned to look at your mother.

“I got really sick.” You said, rubbing your face tiredly.

“That’s no excuse for you to come home.” The woman said, irritated.

You dully stared at her and said, “I was throwing up every few minutes all of fifth hour. It finally seems to have calmed down but I still feel like shit. My friends took me to the nurse and they made me go home.”

Your mother glared at you and said, “Well why the fuck are you sick anyway?”

You glared back and said, “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I'm going through serious withdrawal from the clonazepam and oxy. It’s been four days since you last shoved oxy down my throat and it’s hitting me hard as fuck this time.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and turned back to her magazine. You shook your head and made you way to your bedroom. You set your bag down by your desk before falling face down on your bed. Luckily, your bed was still sacred and safe. The only man that had ever been in your bed was Eren, and those times were never sexual. Only lazy weekend naps and scrolling through social media together, showing each other things you found funny. You sighed heavily again and wiggled your way under your covers, managing to fall asleep a little faster than normal due to how horrible you felt.

Max pulled back in to her parking spot at school and turned off her car. She sighed and stepped out, shocked to see the three males she’d left fifteen minutes ago standing in the same place.

“You guys waited here this whole time?” She asked, confused.

They nodded and Armin took her hand, leading her back into the school. Eren and Levi slowly trail behind them and spoke quietly.

“Did you get a chance to talk to her?” Levi asked.

Eren shook his head and said, “No…. She got sick before I even saw her….”

Levi nodded and they walked in silence. They’d figure out the best way to talk to her eventually.

You groaned as you rinsed your mouth out for the fourth time that morning. You hadn’t made it to school the day before and you were still sick. It was now Saturday, and you knew your phone would be ringing soon. One of your friends would be taking you to the doctor today, and you were dreading it. As if on cue, your phone began to ring. You sighed and walked into your room to pick it up.

“Hello?” You asked, answering without checking the caller ID.

“________, how are you feeling?” Eren’s voice came through.

“Oh, Eren…,” you said, not expecting him to call this early, “I-I’m… not doing so hot….”

You finally admitted to him that you weren’t alright. You sat on your bed and wrapped your free arm around your stomach.

“You’re still feeling sick?” Eren asked, a frown evident in his voice.

You sighed and answered, “Yeah. Honestly, I'm not feeling any better than I did at school the other day.”

“Alright, I’m taking you to the doctor,” Eren said, sounding like he was getting up, “Get ready, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

You were surprised, but said, “O-ok…! Um, I’ll be ready.”

He hung up with a quick goodbye and you stared down at your phone, blinking owlishly. You sighed again and set it down on your bed so you could get ready. You pulled on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt with your school’s mascot on it. You grabbed the hoodie that you had been wearing to bed, which actually belonged to Eren, and pulled it on, smiling at the way you drowned in the large garment. You pulled on a pair of slip-on boots and grabbed your small backpack purse. You grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs. Your mother was snoring loudly on the couch, an empty bottle of vodka still gripped in her hand that was hanging off the edge, resting on the floor. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the wall next to the window by the front door. A few minutes later, Eren’s beat up old car pulled into your driveway and you slipped out the door, locking it behind you. Eren met you halfway to the car and gently took your hand in one of his and braced your arm with the other, helping you to walk to the car. He opened your door and helped you in, even buckling your seatbelt for you.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back at you and carefully closed your door before going around the car and getting in the driver’s seat. He backed out of your driveway and took off down the street, heading towards downtown.

“Where are we going anyway,” you asked, biting your lip, “You know I don’t have insurance….”

He grinned over at you and said, “We’re going to my dad’s clinic. He said he’d see you free of charge.”

You smiled hearing that. Grisha Jaeger was a good man. Since your families had known each other since you and Eren were babies, you grew up seeing the man often. He was always kind to you, and you knew he was a good man since he took in Mikasa after her parents died when she and Eren were ten. He was the only father figure you had left since your dad died when you were eight. It was around that time that your mom started drinking and selling sex for money. When you turned fourteen, she realized that she could sell you instead and get even more money without her having to do anything. You sighed lightly as all of these thoughts swirled through your head, making it throb slightly.

“Hey, you good? Need me to roll the window down or something?” Eren asked, looking at you worriedly.

You smiled nervously at him and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna throw up in your car. It’s passed for now at least. I was just kinda spacing out, that’s all.”

Eren nodded and said, “I’m glad you feel better now. And you throwing up in my car probably wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened in here. I’m pretty sure Jean and Marco fucked in the backseat that time we went camping last summer.”

“Oh my god, seriously?!” You asked, shocked and kind of amused.

Eren nodded and said, “I saw them sneaking back to the campsite from the parking lot and then my car smelled nasty the next morning. And Marco couldn’t look me in the eye for a week.”

You laughed harder than you had laughed in a long time at this, holding your stomach as it cramped lightly.

“Ow…,” you cried, tears of laughter streaming down your face, “It hurts! It’s so funny it hurts!”

You quickly pulled you phone out and dialed Jean’s number.

“Hello?”

“Jean, did you and Marco really fuck in Eren’s car last summer when we went camping?!” You asked, still laughing.

You could hear the horror in his voice as he said, “How did you find out about that?!”

You barked out another laugh and said, “Eren’s known about it since it happened! He saw you guys sneaking back to the campsite that night!”

Jean swore and hung up on you, causing you to laugh even harder. You put your phone back in your purse and leaned back in your seat, your laughter dying down.

“I can’t believe you called him.” Eren chuckled, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe he admitted it to me. Well, in a way.” You said, giggling again.

Eren rolled his eyes and pulled into the empty parking lot of his dad’s clinic.

He must have seen your confused look and said, “The clinic doesn’t open until 11 o’clock. Dad wanted me to bring you in early to make sure there was time to do a thorough exam and run any tests needed before any other patients were here.”

You nodded in understanding and bit your lip nervously. At least one of your secrets was about to come out and you were not ready for that. Your door opened and you jumped slightly, looking up to see Eren shaking his head at you. He leaned down and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. He took your hand and helped you out of the car. You expected him to let go of your hand, but he didn’t. Instead, he held onto your hand tightly and guided you to the back door of the clinic, unlocking it and opening it, leading you in.

“You have a key?” You asked.

He nodded and said, “I sometimes help dad out by coming in before or after hours and help clean and stuff.”

You nodded and looked around hesitantly, not ready for this.

“Dad, we’re here!” He called into the mostly dark clinic.

“Back here, room 3.” His father called back.

Eren lead you down two hallways to the only room with lights on. You saw Dr. Jaeger setting up several different things and you immediately froze. He must have noticed because gave you a gentle smile.

“Relax ________,” he said softly, “Eren told me that you haven’t been to a doctor in quite a while, so I figured we’d just do a full work up.”

You swallowed had and nodded, letting Eren lead you over to the exam table, helping you to sit on it. He smiled at you a little before letting go of your hand, turning to leave the room.

“W-wait…,” you said, reaching out and grabbing his arm, “Stay… please…?”

He blinked at you a few times before looking at his father and asked, “Is it alright if stay dad?”

“As long as she says it’s alright, then yes.” He answered, nodding.

Eren nodded as well and moved to stand next to the exam table. You didn’t look at him or his dad, instead, just staring down at your hands in your lap.

“Alright, let’s start with your height and weight.” Dr. Jaeger said, motioning for you to come over to the scale.

You slipped off the table and went over, letting him measure your height (A/N: anything shorter than 6 foot so you’re shorter than Eren). You couldn’t look at the little screen on the scale where the numbers would pop up, indicating your weight.

“94 lbs,” Dr. Jaeger said, frowning, “________, that’s extremely low.”

You swallowed hard and said, “I know…. I knew my weight was low but I didn’t know it was that low….”

You trudged back to the exam table and climbed back onto it, not meeting the eyes of either Jaeger. The older man came over and grabbed the blood pressure cuff.

“Can you take your sweater off please?” Dr. Jaeger asked.

You took a shuddering deep breath and slowly pulled off your hoodie. You shyly offered the doctor you left arm, looking anywhere but him. The room was silent as you felt both males staring at you.

“________, I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to be completely honest with me, do you understand?” Dr. Jaeger asked.

You nodded, pulling your arm back, wrapping both your arms around your body.

“Are you taking drugs?” He asked.

“Not willingly….” You answered quietly.

“Someone’s making you take them?”

You nodded again.

“Who?”

You swallowed hard and said, “My mom….”

You felt Eren’s eyes boring into the side of your head but you refused to look at him.

“What is she giving you?” Dr asked.

“Normally she gives me clonazepam and oxy when I… have to work…. But last time she injected me with something instead. I don’t know what it was though….” You said, bringing one hand up to bite on your nails.

Dr. Jaeger was quiet for a moment before he asked, “What kind of work do you do?”

You squeezed your eyes closed tightly and said, “Sex work….”

“What?!” Eren cried, making you cringe.

“Eren, calm down,” Grisha said, “Freaking out right now isn’t going to help her at all.”

“S-sorry….” Eren stuttered, gently taking your hand.

“Does your mother force you to do this work?” Dr asked.

You nodded and said, “Yes…. When my dad died, she couldn’t pay the bills anymore and started selling herself. When I turned fourteen, she realized that if she sold me, she could make twice the money without having to do anything herself. I struggled and fought at first, and she would always get mad and say that I was too loud and that we’d get caught. So, she started drugging me to get through the meetings. It started out with just the clonazepam, but somewhere along the way she added the oxy.

“It was only once every few weeks at first, but then she started taking me to that place every week. Now it’s at least three nights a week, for… well, I’m actually not sure how long were there for since I’m drugged the whole time…. After she started bringing me every week, my body got dependent on the drugs…. That’s how she controls me now…. I've been going through really bad withdrawal this whole week…. The last time I had either was Sunday night….”

Both Jaegers were quiet for a moment.

Dr. Jaeger sighed heavily and said, “________, because of what your mother has been forcing you to do, I’m going to have to ask you some difficult questions, alright?”

You nodded.

“Do you know how many men have… been with you?” He asked, sounding like he didn’t want to be asking you these questions, just as much as you didn’t want to be asked them.

“I’m not sure…. I’m drugged every time now…. But if I had to guess… probably at least 300, maybe 350….” You said, rubbing your arm in shame.

Another sigh came from the doctor and you could hear Eren breathing heavily.

“Do you know if protection was used?”

You sighed and said, “Mom never put me on birth control and from the number of times I woke up to… fluids dripping down my thighs I assume not.”

Sighs were heard from both males in the room and you finally looked up. Dr. Jaeger looked conflicted and Eren looked so sad and so angry at the same time.

“I’m sorry I never told you Eren,” you said, hesitantly gripping his sleeve, “I was so embarrassed and… I was scared that if anyone found out that I would get in trouble….”

Eren shook his head almost violently and said, “Don’t apologize! It’s not your fault she made you do that! I’m sorry that I never notice anything was going on!”

“It’s alright Eren. I did everything I could to make sure you didn’t know.” You said, shrugging.

You both fell silent and Dr. Jaeger cleared his throat. You turned your attention back to him.

“Given the information you’ve provided me, I’m afraid I need to perform a pelvic exam and take some swabs and samples to make sure you’re not seriously sick.” He said, looking at you apologetically.

You sighed and nodded, figuring this was coming.

You looked at Eren and asked, “Will you stay with me still?”

He looked at you confused and asked, “Are you sure you want me to stay in here while he exams your… you know… girly bits?”

You nodded and said, “I already know it’s gonna be uncomfortable as hell. I've heard these exams can hurt a little, especially if samples need to be taken. It’s also going to be awkward as fuck since it’s your dad and all, so I might as well have some sort of comfort. You can face the wall behind me if it helps.”

He hesitated, but nodded. Dr. Jaeger began to gather all of the instruments and things he needed for the exam while you put on the paper gown he gave you. You asked Eren to tie it for you and her did. Once it was tied, you slipped off your leggings and panties without him seeing anything. To spare both of you any extra embarrassment, you folded your panties inside your leggings so he didn’t see them.

“Lay back and place your feet into the stirrups, then slide your bottom towards the end of the table.” Dr. Jaeger said, sitting on the rolling stool.

You did what you were told and held your hand out to Eren, who was facing the wall behind you, but could still see you. He took your hand and held it tightly. Dr. Jaeger started to examine you and you breathed deeply, closing your eyes. You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment and couldn’t bring yourself to look at Eren, even as he squeezed your hand reassuringly. Once you felt the speculum touch you, you breathed deeply again, anticipating the pain of something entering you. It didn’t hurt while going in, but when it started to open, you whined slightly at the burning pain.

“I apologize ________,” Dr said, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

You nodded and bit your lip. After what felt like forever, but was only about a minute and a half, the speculum was pulled out of you and you sighed in relief. You sat up and looked at Dr. Jaeger, watching as he collected all of the swabs and samples he had taken.

“I’m going to go process these and we should have the results in about twenty minutes. I’ll also need to take some blood samples to check a few things.” He said, standing.

You nodded and took the towel he handed you. He left the room and Eren turned his back so you could clean yourself up and get dressed again. You did so quickly and tossed the towel into the labeled basket.

“I’m done.” You said, sitting on the table again.

Eren turned back to you and leaned against the exam table, pulling you into a tight, but gentle hug. You hugged him back and buried your face into his neck.

“I love you,” he said, stroking your (h/c) hair, “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I was too scared. But after hearing that your own mother was forcing you to do that kind of stuff, I felt like I had to tell you… tell you that someone loved you….”

You teared up a little and said, “I love you too Eren…. But I was so scared to tell you because I thought no one could love me when I’m so used and disgusting….”

“You’re not disgusting,” Eren said, kissing your forehead, “You’ve been abused. None of it was your choice or your fault. Nothing could make me stop loving you.”

You looked up at him and he smiled at you. He leaned down and kissed you gently. You kissed him back before resting your head against his chest while he stood between your legs, hugging you. You stayed like that until the door opened again.

“Can I assume that you two finally confessed?” Dr. Jaeger asked, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled quietly and Eren nodded.

He nodded back and said, “Congratulations, and finally. Now, I’m sorry to have to separate you two lovebirds, but I need to take some blood samples.”

You nodded and pulled away from Eren to offer your arm to his father. He tied a rubber strip around your arm and felt for your vein. Once he found it, he skillfully stuck the needle in your arm and collected the blood he needed.

“Eren, hold this here for me.” He said, nodding down to the folded cotton pad he had placed over the needlestick.

Eren’s tanned fingers gently pressed down on the cotton and his father went to dispose of the needle. He came back with a roll of (f/c) coban and wrapped it around your arm. You thanked him and moved back to your embrace with Eren.

“I’ll run these tests and when all the results are back, we’ll go over them. For now, relax.” Grisha said, nodding at you two.

You nodded and rested your head back on Eren’s chest. He rested his chin on top of your head and hummed happily. You talked idly for a little over half an hour before Dr. Jaeger came back in, a dark look on his face.

“I know that look,” Eren said, sounding a little scared, “And nothing good comes after it….”

Grisha sighed and pulled the rolling stool over again, sitting down in front of you.

“Don’t sugarcoat it.” You said, trying to steal your nerves.

“There are a few things that we need to discus,” Dr. Jaeger said, looking down at the clipboard in his hands, “Are you sure you ok with Eren hearing this information?”

You nodded and said, “Yes. He knows everything else now. I’m not going to hide anything from him anymore.”

Dr. Jaeger nodded and said, “Alright. We’ll your anemia has gotten worse, which judging by how low your iron levels are, is probably due to your lack of nutrition. And your extreme weight loss is most likely due to your body’s dependence on the drugs.”

You nodded at his words. You had kind of figured that would be the case, but you were dreading whatever other diagnoses you might get.

“You have a few other vitamin deficiencies and insufficiencies, but that’s to be expected.”

You nodded.

“Unfortunately, I have two more rather serious diagnoses for you.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, holding onto Eren’s hand tightly.

“The lesser of the two is that you have a bacterial infection. It can be taken care of with antibiotics though.” Dr. Jaeger said.

You closed your eyes and sighed sadly.

“It’s an STD… isn’t it…?” You asked, looking at him.

“Yes. You have chlamydia, which, like I said, is treatable,” Dr said, trying to reassure you, “All you have to do is take the antibiotics that I give you and abstain from any sexual activity for a while and you’ll be cured.”

You nodded sadly and asked, “What’s the other bad news?”

Dr. Jaeger fell silent and his face grew dark again. A chill ran down your spine at the look.

“Dad,” Eren said, “What is it?”

The man sighed heavily and said, “________, according to your blood test, you’re somewhere between four and six weeks pregnant….”

The blood drained out of your face and your heart dropped into your stomach. You could see Dr. Jaeger’s lips moving, but all you could hear was a high-pitched ringing. It hadn’t been the withdrawal that was making you so sick…. It was because you were pregnant….

“I think I'm gonna be sick…!” You said, jumping up from the exam table and running to the garbage can that was built into the counter next to the sink.

You hunched over it and heaved roughly, bringing up stomach acid again. Gentle hands gathered your hair away from your face and another hand rubbed your back. You retched a few more times before gasping and coughing.

“Rinse your mouth out dear.” Dr. Jaeger said, turning the water on and grabbing a small cup.

He filled it and handed it to you. You took the water in, swished it around and spit it out in the sink. You coughed a few more times before straightening up, stumbling slightly. Eren quickly steadied you and brought you into his chest. Tears flooded your eyes and you began to sob.

“What am I going to do…?!” You cried, grabbing onto Eren’s shirt tightly.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, hugging you tightly, “We’ll get through this. I swear…!”

You spent a while crying into your boyfriend’s chest before you were able to calm down.

“Eren, I want you to take ________ to our house,” Grisha said, taking his phone out, “I’ll call your mother and explain what’s going on. She’ll know how to help.”

Eren nodded and lead you out of the clinic and back to his car. He got you in and quickly drove to his house. He helped you out of the car and to the front door where his mother met you.

“Oh ________, darling.” She cooed, pulling you into a hug.

You started to cry again and she slowly brought you to the couch. She lowered you both down and stroked your hair. Eren came and sat on your other side and rested his hand on your knee, letting you know he was there. You managed to calm down quicker this time and pulled out of Carla’s loving embrace.

You sniffled and said, “Did Papa call you yet?”

Carla smiled lightly at the name you had called Grisha since your father died and nodded.

“I have a plan.” She said, petting your hair.

You nodded and Eren asked, “What is it?”

“There are obviously a few things that we need to address, but the first one is ________’s mother. We need to get the police involved.” Carla said.

You sighed. You were afraid she was going to say that.

“I know you don’t want to ________, but we have to,” Carla said, petting your hair gently, “But don’t worry, we’ll be with you the whole way.”

You nodded and asked, “What do we do after that?”

“We get you in a rehab program to get your body to not be dependent on the drugs anymore.” She answered.

You nodded again and looked down at your hands.

“What about… the baby…?” Eren asked, hesitant.

You peeked up at Carla through your lashes, curious to see her reaction.

She smiled a little sadly and said, “It’s still early on. We need to take care of those two things first, and then we’ll turn our attention to that. Oh, and we need to get that infection cleared up! That’s really priority number 1. Well, 1A, since we can do that and the police at the same time.”

You giggled a little at her, causing her to smile at you.

“Mom, can ________ stay with us from now on?” Eren asked.

“Of course! We’re getting that bitch thrown in jail so she needs somewhere to live. And this is the safest place for her.” Carla said.

You and Eren looked at the woman in shock.

“Mom!” Eren exclaimed, wide-eyed.

She looked at you two and asked, “What?”

“You never swear,” you giggled, “At least, not like that!”

The woman shrugged and said, “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

You giggled again and nodded.

“My mom should be out doing god knows what right now, so we should probably go get my stuff.” You said, looking to Eren.

He nodded and you stood, say goodbye to your new mother and going to the car. It didn’t take long to reach your house and you sighed in relief when you saw that your mother’s car was indeed gone. You quickly went inside and to your room. You went to your closet and reached for the large duffle bag that was on the top shelf, but couldn’t reach it.

“Need some help there?” Eren asked, coming up behind you and putting a hand on your waist.

“Yes please.” You said, tilting your head back so you could look up at him.

He smiled down at you and gave you a quick kiss before grabbing the bag. He placed it on your bed and helped you shove your small wardrobe into it. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, since you didn’t see any of the money you made from ‘working’, so your belongings were few and far between and all fit into your duffle and backpack. Shoving the last item into your bag, a photo of you and Eren from when you were kids, you froze as you heard the front door slam shut.

“________, are you back? Whose piece of shit car is that?” Your mother yelled, sounding mostly sober.

You took a deep, shuddering breath and felt Eren wrap his arms around you.

“We’ll make something up and get out of here quickly, I swear.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

You nodded and took another deep breath before steeling your nerves and walking downstairs.

“There you are,” your mother said, her drawn on eyebrows pinching together when she saw you, “What the fuck is all this?”

Your mind blanked and you started to panic slightly, looking to Eren for help.

“Max asked to barrow some stuff from ________ for a project and since we were all planning on hanging out today, I just decided to drive her.” Eren said, forcing a smile.

Your mother eyed you both for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Whatever. As long as your back in time for our plans tonight.” She said, staring you down.

A chill ran down your spine and squeezed out “Yes ma’am….”

She nodded again and waved her hand dismissively as she walked towards the kitchen. You quickly ran out the door and Eren threw your bags into the back seat. You got in the car and Eren sped the whole way back to his house. Once there, he put your things in his room and you sat down with his mother again.

“So, you’re supposed to work tonight?” She asked, pulling out her phone.

You nodded and watched as she dialed a number.

“Hannes, hi, it’s Carla,” she said, tilting her head a little, “Listen, Grisha and I need a favor.”

She listened for a moment before humming.

“Great,” Carla said, smiling, “You remember Eren’s friend ________, right? Well, turns out her mother is a horrid bitch and has been forcing ________ into sex work for the past few years. She was so scared that she wasn’t able to tell us anything before today when she saw Grisha for an exam. The bitch has also been forcing ________ to take drugs. Is there any way to set her up tonight to get her arrested?”

She listened again and you could faintly hear someone talking on the other end of the line, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Wonderful. We’ll come by the station when Grisha gets home. Thanks.”

The woman hung up and looked at you with a smile.

“That hag should be in jail tonight.” She said, a sly smirk on her lips.

You were still a little shocked to see this side of Eren’s mother, but you kind of liked it. You smiled yourself and hugged your new mom, thanking her.

“What do we do after she’s arrested?” Eren asked.

“Well, first, since ________ is still 17, your father and I will have to take care of whatever legal paperwork needs to be done to become her guardians. Then, rehab.” Carla said, stroking your hair.

You nodded and reached out for Eren’s hand. He laced his fingers with yours and brought your hand up, kissing it lovingly. You ended up cuddling up with Eren on the couch watching tv with his mother while waiting for your father to get home. Once he arrived, you all got into his car and drove to the police station.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you watched a cop handcuff your mother.

“You little bitch! How dare you do this to me! I’ll make you regret it!!” She screeched, fighting against the cop.

You huffed out a breath and turned away from her, searching for Eren. You spotted him quickly and made your way to him. He hugged you and kissed your forehead. The next step now was rehab. It turns out that your new mom had a friend that ran a really nice rehab facility. And you didn’t have to pay for a thing, since the courts had decided that your biological mother owed you sever hundred thousand dollars for all of the trauma and damages she caused. You kept up with your school work while in rehab, but a little over two weeks into the program, you ended up in the hospital. They called Carla and your family quickly raced over.

“________,” Eren cried, bursting into you room, “Are you ok?! What happened?!”

You smiled tiredly at him and reached out for his hand. He quickly came to your side and held your hand with both of his.

“I miscarried.” You said simply.

Eren’s eyes widened at the news, and he didn’t know how to react, not knowing how you felt.

“How do you feel about the situation?” Your mom asked, sitting next to you on your bed and petting your head.

You smiled sadly and said, “I’m a little sad but, it’s best that this happened. I’m not ready for a baby and I honestly don’t know how I would have handled having a child from that situation. So, I'm ok.”

Eren frowned and said, “You don’t look like you’re ok.”

You laughed lightly and said, “I meant mentally and emotionally. Physically I’m tired as fuck and still in pain. Both from rehab and this. But I really am fine. I’ll be better in no time, I promise.”

Eren sighed lightly but nodded. You leaned up and kissed him gently before resting back in your bed.

Two months later, you were back home with Eren and your new family and you would be graduation high school soon. You were clean and sober a little over two months and you had recovered from the miscarriage completely. Your life was normal now, and you couldn’t be any happier with your boyfriend and your new family.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #eren jeager #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader

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hyucks-archive · 4 years

Text

of happily ever afters.

word count: 6,978

genre: fluff, tinge of angst, female!reader

member(s): jeno, featuring jaemin

warning(s): fictional depiction of hyperthymesia, mention of death of foster parent, ill relations with foster parent

author’s note: i have been very much in my jeno feels lately, and i can finally mark off bookstore au from my bucket list, so a big yay to this fic, i hope you enjoy

“Hey,” Jaemin greets with a smile, placing his bag on the countertop. Jeno looks up briefly, flashing a small smile at his friend. “You’re early,” he comments, eyes glancing at the antique clock that decorates the mostly empty brick wall. “It’s close to eleven,” Jaemin replies, taking a seat on one of the high stools. Jaemin rests his folded arms on the countertop, tilting his head to the side while he watches as Jeno continues to write in his log book. Pursing his lips, he scans the interior of the small, dimly-lit, vintage-decorated bookstore. Jaemin’s eyes rest on the familiar customer.

You’re seated with your left leg over your right leg, your chin resting in your palm, in the comfort of your favourite corner, in your favourite bookstore. The book of choice is laid open to page 5, resting atop the table. You’re supposed to be getting lost in the world of fantasy, engrossed in every little detail, in every little word used. But, your eyes are fixed on the text.

Jaemin raises a brow as he continues to watch you from a distance. He can tell from your eyes that you’re lost in thought. You’re not focused on the book in front of you at all. His eyes travel downwards to focus on the book that’s sitting on the table, untouched. It doesn’t look like you’ve made any progress from the previous night. It could also be that you’ve moved on to another book. His eyesight isn’t good enough for him to really decipher which it is.

“Why are you staring?” Jeno questions, tone low and quiet. He glances over at you, to ensure that you’re not listening in on their conversation. Jaemin turns his head to face Jeno, humming in surprise. “Oh, nothing,” Jaemin says, turning his head in your direction once more. “Is she reading a new book?” he asks. Jeno looks at you once more; you’re once again, zoning out. “Nope. She’s been reading that book for a month now,” Jeno shares, shifting his attention to his messy work area. He begins to clean, preparing to knock off for the night.

“A month?” Jaemin repeats, frowning. “It looks like she’s barely gotten through the first page of that book,” Jaemin says, looking up to meet eyes with Jeno. Jeno shrugs, grabbing the stray stationary to place them into the stationary holder.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you stand up, sliding the chair under the table. Closing the book, you hold it in your left hand, while you hold up your mostly empty cup of iced peach tea with your right hand. Taking another look to ensure that you’ve taken everything with you, you walk towards the counter. Like routine, you nod your head in acknowledgement at the blue-haired friend of the owner of the bookstore. Placing the book on the counter, you slide it towards the brown-haired boy. “Goodnight,” you greet, turning to take your leave.

Jaemin watches as you turn a corner.

“Stop staring,” Jeno says.

“Don’t you find it weird?” Jaemin begins, eyes on Jeno as he continues, “She comes here every day, sits in that same seat, and leaves at 10:59PM sharp. It’s even weirder, now that I know she’s been reading the same book for a month, yet she’s still on the first few pages of that book.” Jaemin’s brows are furrowed in confusion, his eyes scanning his friend’s face for an expression. Jeno remains nonchalant, picking up his backpack, keys in hand. “How are you not curious about what’s going on with her?” Jaemin prompts, both brows raised.

Jeno takes in a breath. He’d be lying if he said he isn’t curious.

You’ve been a regular at his bookstore for five months now. He vaguely recalls when he first began paying attention to you – you’d enter five minutes after opening hours, pick the same book, claim the same seat, and order an iced peach tea with every daily visit. Then, you’d leave a minute before closing time, greeting with a simple ‘goodnight’. However, it wasn’t your routinely behaviour that sparked his interest. It was the fact that the book you picked out, was the classic ‘The Princess and the Pea’. Jeno was confused. It was a children’s fairy tale; the book consisted of huge text and cute illustrations, amounting to 48 pages in total. Yet, even after three weeks, your routine didn’t change. You’d still go for that same book.

Jeno thought he’d do you a favour by keeping the book at the counter, so that you wouldn’t have to reach for it at the bookshelves. He remembers the small, insignificant conversation from that day. He remembers the way you frowned, walking up to him, questioning, “Did someone rent ‘The Princess and the Pea’?” Jeno held out the book with a soft smile, “It’s right here. I thought it would be easier for you to just buy your drink and collect the book at the same time, instead of having to reach so high, since this book is placed on one of the upper shelves.”

He remembers the way your expression softened, but your brows remained knitted. “Thanks, but I’d prefer if you left the book on the shelf,” you had said. It made Jeno feel flustered, as though he didn’t just try to do something nice for a regular customer. After that incident, he never meddled with, nor questioned you. He was surprised when the fourth month drew to a close, and you had finally moved on from ‘The Princess and the Pea’. It remains one of the biggest mysteries to Jeno until this day – how, and why did it take you four months to finish a 48-paged children’s book?

Shaking away these thoughts, Jeno smiles at Jaemin, “It’s none of my business,” he states, bending down to lock the doors to the store.

The following night, the night sky roars with thunder.

Your eyes snap up to focus on the hazy streets, the lighted signs of the shops on the opposite side of the road barely legible due to the heavy downpour. Your eyes shift to the antique clock sitting on the brick wall – it’s ten to eleven. You let out a silent sigh; you don’t have an umbrella, and it doesn’t seem like the rain will stop anytime soon.

Jeno looks towards the small umbrella holder beside the glass doors. The previous three customers had taken the three umbrellas he had placed in the umbrella holder, and he knows for a fact that there’s no way you can fit an umbrella in the tiny purse you always carry. It doesn’t help that it’s Thursday, the day that Jaemin doesn’t drop by. He turns in your direction – you’re staring mindlessly at the rain. He checks the time, noting that there’s still seven minutes before closing, or six minutes before you’d leave. He decides to continue with his work.

As the clock strikes 10:59PM, you get up from your seat, slide the chair under the table, sling your bag over your shoulder, with the book in one hand and the empty cup in the other, you walk towards the counter. Placing the book down, you slide it towards the boy.

“Goodnight,” you say, turning to take your leave.

“It’s raining.” You stop at his words. You look up at the sky as he goes on to say, “I don’t have an umbrella either, so I won’t be closing until the rain stops. You can stay, if you’d like.” You turn to look at the boy – he dons a soft smile, the pretty crescents his eyes form still clearly visible despite his big-frame glasses. You nod your head, “Okay.” You take a seat on a high stool by the counter.

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” he offers. “Sure,” you reply.

As Jeno shifts between machines, he steals some glances at you. You’re lost in thought, as usual. He wonders what could possibly be on your mind all the time that enables you to zone out like that. He wonders if tonight will be the night he’d finally find out the reason behind the four months you took to finish a fairy tale. Maybe he’d get lucky, and you’d share more than that. Maybe he’d finally learn the name of the being he has grown so familiar with, yet still as distant as a stranger he’d meet for the first time.

“Here,” he says, placing the mug on a coaster in front of you. You give a small smile, “Thanks.” You take a sip. “Maybe I should give everything on the menu a try,” you say, “This is pretty good,” you compliment, pointing at the mug of hot chocolate in front of you. Your words elicit a shy smile from the boy, who puts up an embarrassed hand. “You’re just being nice,” he denies, with a subtle shake of the head.

“I don’t lie.”

Jeno meets eyes with you at your declaration. He’s searching for a sign, but all he’s receiving is that you’re dead serious. “Oh,” he manages; you’re merely further intriguing him with every passing second. There’s a comfortable silence as you continue to sip on your hot chocolate, while Jeno tries to piece together his words to continue the conversation. He doesn’t want to sound offensive, or probe too much by accident, that it makes you feel uncomfortable. He ponders a little more, eventually deciding to preface his queries with, “Can I ask you something?”

You turn your attention to the boy behind the counter. You smile, nodding your head, a sign for him to go on. Your smile only widens as he continues, “How do you always come in and leave at the exact same time, read the same book for four months, and drink the same drink, all while sitting in that same spot?” He looks over at the said seat, “Don’t you get bored?” You giggle, and an expression of confusion washes over Jeno’s face.

“I need routine,” you say, purposefully placing emphasis on the word ‘need’. Jeno��s features contort further, telling of how your statement did nothing in answering his queries.

You look out of the glass windows – the rain has slowed to a drizzle. Jeno watches your expression, taking note of how your smile never leaves your lips. He’s not the most intuitive, but he can tell your smile isn’t bright. There’s a hint of bitterness to it, though he isn’t sure why. Still, the way your eyes glisten from the reflection of the lights on the street, and the way you’re seated in front of him, smile plastered on your lips, makes his heart feel some kind of way. It’s always been like that. Your presence has had this effect on him ever since month three of your daily visits.

You’re a mystery to him. One where he’s willing to take all the time in the world to unravel.

“What’s your name?” you ask, turning back to look at the cute boy behind the counter. You can tell he’s flustered, but he masks it so well within a split second. “Jeno,” he tells you. You nod your head in understanding, your smile widening. “Jeno,” you repeat.

“If we get another chance,” you begin, pushing yourself off the stool, “I’ll tell you then,” you finish, backing away towards the glass doors. Jeno looks towards the sky – he hadn’t noticed that the rain had stopped. He looks back at you. Tonight, unlike all the other nights, you smile, with a small wave. “Goodnight,” you say, turning around as you pull the glass door towards you, exiting the quaint little bookstore.

Jeno’s eyes come to a rest on the empty mug of hot chocolate, the only remainder of your presence.

“I didn’t get your name,” he murmurs.

Jeno waits patiently for the next opportunity at a conversation with you. Your nightly routine of greeting him with a ‘goodnight’, has evolved into a greeting accompanied with a pleasant smile, of which he treasures very much. It’s the sixth day since you’ve started doing it, and Jaemin has finally taken notice.

“Am I missing something?” he begins, just as your silhouette disappears into the corner of the street. Jeno raises a brow, earning a smug smile and a slight tilt of the head from his blue-haired friend. “What?” Jeno starts.

“She’s smiling,” Jaemin teases, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “And?” Jeno continues, feigning innocence.

“And,” Jaemin’s grin widens, “That means something must’ve happened last Thursday.”

Jeno shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips at the thought of the short conversation the two of you had shared. Jaemin continues to eye Jeno’s expressions, a toothy grin on his lips at how painfully obvious Jeno is being.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Jaemin says, shrugging, “I hope tomorrow night will be your second chance.”

Jaemin’s words reigned true. It’s Thursday night again, a week since you’ve had that conversation with Jeno. The pitter patter began at 10:24PM, and by 10:32PM, it had transitioned into a semi-heavy shower. It’s now 10:57PM, and it’s raining, what people deemed, ‘cats and dogs outside’. You wonder if it’s some sign, that somehow, the downpours only occur every Thursday night, when Jeno’s friend doesn’t visit.

Jeno is staring out the glass doors. It’s finally the day where he’d have the long-awaited second conversation with you. He’s prepared this time. Just as you arrive at the counter, sliding the book that you’ve barely gotten to page 6 of towards him, he places the coaster down in front of you. Reaching below the counter, he pulls out a mug, setting it atop the coaster just as you slide into the high stool. There’s a significant whiff of earl grey. You smile.

“Since you wanted to try other things on the menu,” Jeno states, reflecting your expression. Wrapping your fingers around the mug, you bring it up to your nose, breathing in the fragrant smell of the loose tea leaves. “Premium,” you comment, earning a low chuckle from the boy. You take a sip, nodding your head as you let out a sound of satisfaction, “It’s so fragrant,” you say.

Jeno is staring at you. You chuckle, knowing exactly why.

“Are you that curious?” you ask. Jeno notices the way your smile remains so pleasant, so inviting, yet still with a dash of sorrow in it. He thinks you look beautiful smiling, but a part of him feels sad to see you smiling like that. It’s ironic, to say the least. He nods his head, “I’ve been waiting,” he informs honestly. You giggle.

Humming as your eyes travel around the back of the counter, browsing through the very many machines and materials that decorate Jeno’s small working space, you begin with a question. “Jeno, do you remember what you were doing on May 28, 2012?”

Jeno raises both brows at your question. He squints his eyes, digging through his memories. If you had asked him if he remembers what he did in 2012, he’d probably be able to give you a rough summary of the scraps that he’s still able to pull out from the deep depths of his memory. But, to be asking about such a specific date, leaves Jeno at a lost. That is why he answers with, “I don’t think anyone can remember what they were doing on such a specific date.”

Your smile widens, further confusing the boy.

You prop your arm on the table, resting your chin in your palm, leaning a tad bit closer towards Jeno. It’s a first for him to be able to take in your entirety at such proximity.

“Well, I can,” you say. Jeno spots the sparkle in your eyes, but the slight bit of regret doesn’t go unnoticed. He furrows a brow, expression doubtful. “You can?” he says, tone sceptical. You don’t shy away from the eye contact as you go on to explain, “My mind is like a movie reel. It’s constantly replaying every memory in distinct detail. It’s not just May 28, it’s May 1st through 31st, June 1st through 30th, and basically, anything and almost everything since 2012, it’s etched in my memory.”

Jeno is searching for a sign of a joke. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. Who would? Having autobiographical memory is so rare. You didn’t even believe you had it yourself back then.

“I can’t get through a book without the text triggering the reliving of my memories,” you continue, still trying to convey sincerity and honesty with the eye contact that you’re maintaining with Jeno. “That’s why it took me four months to finish ‘The Princess and the Pea’,” you conclude, smiling proudly. At least you got to the end of the book, the process doesn’t matter.

Jeno is trying to register the information. He’s doubtful, but he’s still trying to process it. He’s heard of eidetic memory, but never memory so distinct, that you’d remember every detail of your life.

“What’s so significant about May 28, 2012?” is what Jeno chooses to pursue, of the many piling questions that has accumulated within seconds of your revelation. That’s when he sees how your smile fades, the sparkle in your eyes dimming. His brows knit. You break the eye contact, choosing to fixate on the wooden countertop as you continue to tell your story.

“My foster father passed on that day,” you state, almost so matter-of-factly, that it scares Jeno. How can you be so nonchalant, so detached when you’re talking about the death of a parent figure? He rationalises, waiting for you to elaborate, when he realises that it could’ve been an ill-fated relationship. But, it only scares him more when your smile returns, though the glint in your eyes doesn’t. “It feels like everybody has moved on with life, but I haven’t.”

It’s silent for a moment. There’s the sound of the rain, but you’re focused on the eye contact. Jeno is looking you in the eyes. He isn’t sure what it is that he’s feeling. It might be pity, it might be sympathy, but it might also just be pure curiosity. How can you say that like it’s a good thing?

“What do you mean?” he probes.

“When a memory plays in my head, I experience the emotions as raw as they were, in that very moment. People told me it’d get better with time. People told me I’d heal with time. But then it became 2017, a good five years since, and I still cried like I had just heard the news. My foster aunt thinks I’m crazy, that I’m hopeless for not being grown up enough to move on. But she doesn’t understand this, nobody does.”

You cried. You were so nonchalant about stating that your foster father had passed, but you cried. Jeno doesn’t understand. Still, Jeno decides against probing. He doesn’t want to poke his nose in places where you might not be comfortable with him being in.

“It’s okay, you can ask,” you urge, giving a nod of encouragement. You’re willing to share, if Jeno’s willing to listen.

“Do you miss him?”

You clasp your hands together. “Do I?” you murmur, audible enough for Jeno to hear. He watches as your lips spread into a smile once more, a smile that he has come to realise, that you use whenever you’re trying to mask how you truly feel. “I don’t, actually,” you say, looking back up to meet Jeno’s eyes. His lips form an ‘O’, as he nods his head, unsure in which direction he should steer the conversation. You chuckle.

“I didn’t like my faux pa.”

“Faux pas? As in mistake?” Jeno clarifies.

“Well, he was notoriously known for his faux pas. But no, faux as in fake, and pa as in papa – my fake father,” you explain. Jeno breaks out into a laughter; your words seem to have lightened the mood. You smile, as you go on to say, “He never liked me either.”

“Why?” Jeno asks. The look of genuine concern in his eyes warms your heart. It propels you to continue.

“I was a replacement child. Just that, I wasn’t good enough in his eyes. Isn’t that what they always say? That blood is thicker than water?”

Jeno’s gaze softens at your sentence. His lips form a small, comforting smile, as he corrects, “Blood is thicker than water, but only if it flows both ways.”

“That… doesn’t really comfort me,” you reply, raising a doubtful brow, letting out a gentle chuckle. Jeno purses his lips, shying away, “I tried.”

“Effort acknowledged,” you say, holding out a thumbs up.

The two of you exchange laughter, so engrossed in the comforting presence of each other, that you didn’t realise the rain had stopped. You look at Jeno once more, finishing up the earl grey tea. “Thank you,” you say, “For this conversation.”

“I still haven’t found out why you need routine,” Jeno says.

“I guess we have the topic for our third conversation,” you reply, sliding off the stool.

“Goodnight, Jeno,” you greet, giving a slight nod of the head.

“Goodnight,” he returns, watching as you exit through the glass doors.

The third conversation comes way earlier than expected. It’s only the following day, but it’s pouring, once again. You look towards the antique clock that you’ve grown to love – it’s 10:55PM. You shift your attention to the empty counter; the blue-haired boy isn’t here today. You wonder why; it’s a Friday night, and he’s only ever absent on Thursday nights.

As usual, when the clock strikes 10:59PM, you’re standing opposite Jeno, the counter the barrier between the two of you. You take a seat on a stool, and Jeno places a mug of strawberry tea in front of you. You smile, “Refreshing,” you say.

Jeno did his research last night. He was still doubtful, but he believes you now.

“I’m ready,” he says, resting his arms on the countertop. He gazes into your eyes, a sign for you to begin your storytelling. Jeno hasn’t told you, but there’s something about the way you talk, and the way you story tell, that pulls him in. He’s mesmerised, to term it simply.

“I guess the information on the internet corroborates with what I told you?” you comment, raising both brows knowingly. Jeno smiles, nodding his head, “You guessed right,” he validates. You tilt your head to the side, looking into his eyes. The two of you share a moment, and you’re sure Jeno felt it too, but you turn away so quickly, he may have also missed it altogether. Taking in a breath, you search for the right words as you continue to dictate your story.

“Routine helps me. When something triggers my memory, or my brain just decides to replay a random memory, I’ll just be reliving the same day that I’m living.” You pause, blinking a few times, “Does that make sense?”

Jeno looks up at the ceiling with his brows furrowed, taking a few seconds to process what you had said, before nodding his head. “Yeah, it does,” he says. “That’s it,” you say, throwing your hands up in a conclusive manner. “What else are you curious about?”

Jeno hums in thought. “Why did you choose to read ‘The Princess and the Pea’?”

“Because it’s supposed to teach you that you shouldn’t jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts. I’m trying to understand that,” you share.

“Why?”

“Maybe then I’d understand that there were reasons as to why he behaved the way he did.”

You didn’t need to be specific for Jeno to know who you were referring to. He doesn’t push you any further, though, for he feels that it’s a topic that you’d tell him about yourself, when you’re ready to. Jeno points towards the book that you’re currently reading. “Why ‘Cinderella’?”

You smile. “It’s supposed to teach you to always be kind. I can’t forget, so I have to learn to forgive.”

“Why fairy tales? Won’t anecdotes be more effective?”

“For one, I’d never be able to get through a non-fiction book on the art of forgiveness. And secondly, conversations are killer. They’d replay in my head so much that it’d give me a headache. You’re the first person I’ve held a proper conversation with in the longest time.” Strangely, your declaration makes Jeno feel tingly on the inside. It’s like, you’re indirectly telling him, that he’s special.

Again, the rain has slowed to a drizzle for the night. You get off the stool, hands wrapped around the strap of your bag. “I guess that’s it for tonight,” you say, backing away, towards the glass doors. Before you’re able to end off with a ‘goodnight’, Jeno cuts in, “You forgive to free yourself. Forgiveness allows you to leave everything in the past and move on with your own life.”

You pause. There’s the comfortable silence again, coupled with the comfort you seem to be able to find in Jeno’s eyes. Your smile widens, and for the first time, Jeno isn’t able to identify any sadness in your expression. It’s a pure, genuine smile. He reflects your expression. Although, he doesn’t know how much his words, and his gaze, mean to you.

“Goodnight, Jeno,” you say.

“Goodnight,” he replies.

A few days go by, with only subtle gazes and shy smiles exchanged.

“I’m pretty sure you’re hiding something from me,” Jaemin says, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I thought our friendship doesn’t involve secrets,” he sulks further. Jeno rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you not going to tell me?” Jaemin whines, trying to get his friend to concede.

“There’s nothing to tell you,” Jeno insists.

But, the occasional glances that Jeno sneaks at your focused self doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaemin. Jaemin smirks, a teasing smile forming on his lips as he continues to play along with Jeno’s ‘there’s nothing going on’ narrative.

And then, it’s Thursday again.

Jeno bites down on the inside of his lower lip, picking at his fingers as he continues to rehearse the conversation he has in mind in his head. He glances towards the clock – about a minute left, before you’d walk through the glass doors. Inhaling once more, he continues to mouth the words, a part of him nervous because he doesn’t know what to expect. You’re so unpredictable, your reply can easily go both ways.

That’s when you enter the quaint bookstore, shooting a shy smile at the boy behind the counter. Jeno returns the smile, eyes following you as you head towards the bookshelves. You reach up, pulling out the ‘Cinderella’ book that you’ve been working on for the past month and a half. You’ve gotten to page 8, which is somewhat of an achievement. It’s hard to go through a book that uses the word ‘prince’ so many times. Every time you get to that word, the highlight reel of Jeno’s handsome face begins to play in your mind. You’d term it torturous, but to be able to view such a beautifully sculpted face so vividly in your head every day isn’t exactly what people would deem ‘torturous’.

Arriving in front of the counter, you state your order. “One iced peach tea, please.”

As per routine, you hand Jeno the exact amount of cash, and he proceeds to prepare your drink. You tap your finger against the wooden surface of the countertop, pursing your lips as you wait patiently for your order to be ready.

As per non-routine, Jeno doesn’t immediately hand you your order when it’s ready. Instead, he stands opposite you. You raise a brow, a cue for Jeno to speak his mind.

“This is probably kind of sudden,” he begins, finding your eyes. “Do you want to have dinner? Together?” He gestures between the both of you, a physical demonstration of the word ‘together’. You smile – the offer is sweet, and you’d love to grab dinner with the boy. However, dinner would lead to another, and you can’t risk it. With an apologetic smile, you say, “That’s nice, Jeno, but I don’t want to do dinner. It interrupts my routine.”

Jeno’s prepared for this. Why else would he have spent the entire night searching for conversational tips and rehearsing his answers to the potential statements you might throw at him?

“Can’t you give me a chance?” he says.

“I’d have to live with the hurt forever,” you reply. Yes, you’d very much like to have a taste of what a relationship is like. Yes, you’re tactful enough to be able to pick up on the undeniable chemistry you share with Jeno. Yes, you admit that you harbour good feelings for the boy. But no, there’s no guarantee that things will work out well. And if they don’t, you’d be left all alone once more, to deal with the excruciating aftermath, while everyone else just moves on, leaving the past in the past. You’re not ready for that, and you’ll never be.

“As friends,” he pushes. “A platonic dinner.”

Your mind wishes to reject him, but your heart is eager to accept it. You know that this conversation would never leave your head, and you’d have to live with the regret of saying ‘no’, so that is the only reason why you decide, “Okay. Dinner.”

It’s the brightest smile Jeno has donned yet.

As evening comes, you find yourself following behind Jeno, a look of disapproval on your face.

“My idea of dinner’s a cute little diner,” you say, facial features twitching, “I didn’t know we’d be eating grass.”

Jeno breaks out into a laughter at both your expression and what you said. He had decided to close the bookstore early, claiming that it’d be a nice, cosy dinner. Yet, after a ten-minute drive, you find yourself in the middle of a park, surrounded by nothing but greenery, and probably a bunch of bugs that cannot be seen with the naked eye, and a bunch more that you’d scream at the sight of.

Jeno has his backpack slung over his shoulder, leading the way as he brings you towards an empty spot. You eye him up and down, “Picnics aren’t platonic, Jeno.”

Jeno doesn’t reply, his pretty smile still plastered on his face. He sets his bag down on the pavement, reaching inside. He gestures for you to move closer, so you abide. He pulls out an object, placing it on your palm. You let out a sound at the sudden weight.

“Sandbags?” you question. Jeno pulls out more weights, setting them on the ground beside your feet. Silently, he picks one up, wrapping it around your left ankle. He fastens the strap, securing it. You watch as he adds another weight on top of the one he had just secured. “What are you doing?” you ask.

“You’ll find out,” he says.

Although you aren’t sure what his motives are, you allow Jeno to continue attaching the weights onto your body. He fastens two sandbags on each leg, which means 3 kilograms of extra weight on each leg. With the two remaining sandbags, he fastens them on each of your wrists. In total, there’s an extra 8 kilograms of weight on your body. You frown, eyes never leaving Jeno’s face, waiting for him to provide an explanation of some sort.

Satisfied, Jeno looks into your eyes. “Trust me,” he assures. You nod your head.

You watch as Jeno jogs away from you, coming to a stop about 200 metres away. He turns around to face you, cupping his mouth as he shouts, “Run as fast as you can towards me!”

You’re not sure what Jeno is on about, but you did agree to trusting him. Letting out a sigh, you position your body, getting ready to sprint. Taking in a deep breath, you push yourself forward, forcing your legs to move at maximum speed. Despite the short distance, you’re panting heavily when you arrive beside Jeno.

He looks at you, a small smile on his lips. “How did it feel?”

“How did what feel?” you manage out between pants, hands propped against your hips as you continue to gasp for air. “How did running with weights feel?” he prompts, waiting for your response. “The weights slowed me down, obviously,” you reply, brushing the baby hair away from your face. “I could’ve gone much faster without the weights,” you add on, the competitiveness in you brewing.

“Prove it.” Jeno begins to remove the weights off of your body. With every weight lifted, your body immediately feels lighter.

Gathering the weights in his hands, Jeno jogs back to the original starting point, dumping the weights onto the ground, beside his backpack. He gestures for you to run over, “Come on!” he shouts. Smirking, you jog on the spot to warm yourself up, before sprinting forward, dashing across the 200-metre distance that seems so much shorter than it did before.

Jeno hands you a bottle of water.

“How did that feel?” he asks.

“Good,” you say.

“How did it feel in comparison to when you ran with weights?”

“It was easier, definitely.”

“Like you were freer?”

You look at Jeno, nodding your head. “Yeah,” you agree, taking another gulp of water. Jeno’s smile spreads even wider, “Exactly,” he says. You raise a brow, failing to understand the situation. “Exactly what?” you question. Jeno breathes a breath of relief, “That’s what forgiveness is.”

Jeno notices your expression going blank. He maintains his smile, continuing, “Useless grudges and hate is like these weights that you don’t need. Yes, they train you to become stronger, but at the same time, they slow you down. Forgiving is like removing all of this useless weight, and moving on with your life, so that you can move at whatever pace you’d like.”

“I should forgive to free myself,” you say, recalling Jeno’s exact words from the other night. Once again, a smile of pure sincerity pulls at your lips, and it warms Jeno’s heart to know that his words had an impact on you. “You went through all that just to explain your concept of forgiveness?”

“I’m simply proving myself to be worthy of your time,” Jeno says, bending down to place the weights back into his backpack. You watch him, loving the fact that his smile never leaves his lips. Saying that you’re touched by his actions would be a severe understatement. It’s the first and only time in your life that someone has ever put in so much effort just for you. If only you can find the courage in you to admit to your feelings, to admit that you want to give Jeno a chance too.

You walk forward, bending down next to Jeno. You place a hand over his, gently holding on to his warm hand.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say, conveying your heartfelt sincerity through the eye contact. Somehow, that’s enough for Jeno.

Baby steps, right?

Then, it’s Friday night. It’s 10:58PM, and it’s pouring with thunderstorms.

You look towards the counter – the blue-haired boy is here today. You’ve been hoping that it’d rain again, so that you can have another late-night conversation with Jeno. You wouldn’t mind if it became a part of your routine. Unfortunately, it’s not Thursday today, which means you’d have to share the conversation with a third party.

As usual, you head towards the counter, placing the book on the countertop, sliding it towards Jeno. He smiles at you. Meanwhile, his curious blue-haired friend peeks over at the title. “Cinderella?” he blurts, almost too incredulously. Jeno shoots him a look, and his friend immediately cowers back, a hand over his mouth as though he had said something wrong. You let out a chuckle, “Not a book choice you’d expect out of someone my age, huh?” Jeno glances over at you, before averting his attention back to the elderflower tea he’s brewing. He’s glad you’re able to react well to Jaemin.

Jaemin gives you an embarrassed smile, holding a hand out, “I’m Jaemin.”

You acknowledge, shaking his hand as you tell him your name. You slide into the stool beside him, and he immediately raises both brows in realisation, his lips forming an ‘O’ as he looks at Jeno, who is avoiding eye contact at all costs. “I see what you’ve been hiding,” Jaemin teases, his brows dancing along with his playful smile.

Jeno waves a dismissing hand at his friend, setting the mug of elderflower tea atop a coaster in front of you.

“So the two of you have been having secret date nights while it rains?” Jaemin probes.

You glance up at him, sipping from your mug. “Just meaningful conversation,” you correct. Jeno’s still avoiding his friend by pretending to be busy with cleaning the machines.

“What kind of meaningful conversation?” Jaemin digs further. Jeno shushes his friend from the side, earning a soft laughter from the blue-haired boy. “Okay, I won’t ask,” Jaemin concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. “Why are you reading ‘Cinderella’, though? Are you one of those girls who believes in happily ever afters?”

You’re about to respond, but Jeno butts in. “I thought you wanted to go to the toilet, Na Jaemin.”

“Oh, right!” Jaemin exclaims, almost too dramatically. You can’t help but giggle. “I’ll be right back. You guys have fun,” he says, sending a wink at his friend, before disappearing into the washroom.

“Sorry about that,” Jeno says, placing the cleaning rag down. He leans his weight on his palms that are resting against the surface of his work area, his veins in full view. Jeno is attractive all over – his looks, his body, and above all, his personality. It’s rare to come across guys who are so sincere and sensitive to the feelings of others these days. You consider yourself quite lucky to have discovered this little bookstore, and you consider yourself even luckier to have become acquainted to the owner of this bookstore.

“It’s fine,” you reply, “He’s amusing.”

There’s a short pause, before Jeno says quietly, “You know, people do read fairy tales for the happily ever afters.”

You look at him, a soft smile decorating your features. “Everyone knows there’s no such thing as happily ever after.” The two of you remain still, sharing another moment as you look into each other’s eyes. This time, you don’t avoid it. Somehow, your heart rate begins to increase. You can feel your heart thumping against your chest. From what moment, did Jeno become this attractive to you?

Jeno inches in, his face the closest it has ever been, but still, respectfully distant. “What if I’m your happily ever after?”

You gulp. What if? No one has ever had such an effect on you before. There’s a growing urge for you to just lean forward, to just attach your lips onto his. But you know well enough that you shouldn’t, because, “What if you’re not?”

“You haven’t given me a chance to prove it to you,” he says, almost so affirmatively, that you’re wavering on the line of committing to him. You swallow.

“Convince me,” you challenge. You catch the way Jeno’s eyes dart down towards your lips, before he looks back up into your eyes. You know well enough that that’s the sign that he’s going to lean in. Just as he does, you press your fingers to his lips. “With words, Jeno.” He reaches for the wrist of the hand you have held up against his mouth, shifting it to the side as he declares, “You have your ways, and I have mine.” He closes the gap between the two of you.

There’s a burst; an overwhelming wash of feelings that blossoms in your heart. He feels right. He feels like the security that you’ve needed, but you’ve never had. Jeno makes your heart swell in the best way possible.

Jaemin keeps himself hidden, only the tip of his head peeking out as he tries to get a good view of Jeno and you. He smiles proudly, waiting for the right moment to enter, to make sure he doesn’t walk in on anything.

Jeno pulls away, eyes on you. Your lips are slightly parted, eyes searching for a sign from his.

“I’m back!” Jaemin announces, striding towards the two of you. You pick up the mug of elderflower tea, gulping it down, just so that if Jaemin happens to notice your lips, you’d be able to just pass it off as the moisture from the tea. He reclaims the seat beside you, smiling so widely, you’re almost able to see his molars.

“So, tell me, what do you see in Jeno?”

“What?” You look at Jaemin with both brows raised, while he has on the most relaxed, composed expression. “Come on, I’m his best friend. How long more do you guys intend to keep this,” he uses his finger to connect the two of you, “a secret?”

You look towards Jeno, who’s looking at you with an expression of anticipation.

You’ve come to a point where you’re learning to forgive your foster father. That would mean you’d be able to learn to get over heartbreak should the need arises, right?

At the very least, if it’s with Jeno, it’d be worth it, right?

You’re still hesitating, but when you engage in eye contact with Jeno, and you see the genuine affection and sincerity that’s pouring out of his gaze, you subconsciously give a slight nod of the head. Jeno understands you immediately. He breaks out into the brightest, loveliest smile, a light shade of pink painting his cheeks.

Jaemin fails to contain the fatherly smile that spreads across his lips. While he might’ve been mostly irrelevant in this whole situation, a part of him always knew, that he’s Jeno’s personal fairy godfather.

And that might just be the sign that happily ever after has the chance of existing.

#nct scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno #nct fluff #nct angst #nct imagines #jeno imagines #nct #nct dream #nct jeno #fic #fic: of happily ever afters

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plumbobble-head · 3 years

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Plumbobble Head’s Sims 3 LEPacy Challenge!

So I’ve had the Sims 3 for over a decade now, and in that time I’ve only really played with the Elgars... UNTIL NOW.

While I love my Elgars, there are so many aspects of the game I’ve never even touched, so I’m starting a new LEPacy challenge with specific gameplay goals for each pack! There are eleven EPs in total, which makes for twelve (!!) fun-filled generations! 🥳

🏠 One: Base Game

In the beginning there was a Sim... Her name was Isadora Plumb and she had just moved out on her own to Sunset Valley! Isadora’s lifetime wish is to befriend the whole town and become Super Popular. Her spouse must be an EA townie, and they must have a base game lifetime wish that I’ve never played. To earn a living she’ll join the Journalism career (one I’ve never tried!) and max the writing skill. I’ve also never played with a mooch or a kleptomaniac so Isadora is both!

✈️ Two: World Adventures

For generation two the family will move to Riverview, a world I’ve already played in, but we won’t be spending much time there because this generation is all about adventure! The heir will have the adventurous trait and either the Great Explorer or Seasoned Traveler lifetime wish. They must reach a high enough visa level to purchase a vacation home in one or more of the three worlds. The heir must have at least two children with a foreign sim (or sims!). They must also max the martial arts and photography skills.

🛠️ Three: Ambitions

The Ambitions gen is so *ambitious* it’s played with two co-heirs! They both move to a shared property in Twinbrook, where they will get matching tattoos to celebrate their new-found independence. Heir A will have the ambitious and eco-friendly traits and their lifetime wish will correspond with one of the Ambitions professions that I’ve not yet played through. Heir B will have the eccentric trait and Descendant of da Vinci ltw. They will register as self-employed in one of the skill careers and can earn a secondary income by selling things at the consignment store. This heir can only have children via the time machine (but a child of either of the gen three co-heirs can become heir for generation four).

🌆 Four: Late Night

After three generations stuck in the suburbs, this generation takes place under the bright lights of Bridgeport! The generation four heir is blessed with the star quality trait and wants to pursue fame and fortune in the big city. They can choose any of the EP’s lifetime wishes, but must reach level 5 celebrity status. They will live in a penthouse apartment and hire a butler to see to their every need. But life in the public eye means the heir is always at risk of becoming publicly disgraced... especially because they will have multiple romances! Someone in the family must also be a vampire (although it doesn’t have to be the heir).

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Five: Generations*

After growing up in the big city this generation’s heir wants a quieter life in Aurora Skies with the large, loving family they never had. The heir must have the family oriented and/or nurturing traits and the Surrounded by Family ltw. As per their lifetime wish, they must have at least five children... but will they be a strict or indulgent parent? At least one of their children will have their imaginary friend become real, and at least one of their children must attend boarding school.

*(EP does not come with new lifetime wishes or a new world)

🐾 Six: Pets

For generation six we’re off to Appaloosa Plains to live off the land! The heir - whether they be male, female or otherwise inclined - is unfortunately a horse girl. They must have the equestrian trait and Jockey ltw and must also max the riding skill. They and their spouse must not pursue traditional careers, but can support themselves by “farming”. This means gardening and possibly nectar making, but there’s some Store content that could work well here too. Every good farm has a cat and dog, which can be trained in hunting to sniff out collectibles for extra income!

🎤 Seven: Showtime

This generation’s heir grew up in the country but dreams of stardom in Starlight Shores! They have the natural born performer trait and their lifetime wish is to reach the top of one of the acrobat, magician, or singer professions. Like their great-grandparent, the heir must become a level 5 celebrity. But in spite of their fame the heir feels that something is still missing in their lives. Perhaps a genie will be able to make all their wishes come true...

🧙 Eight: Supernatural

Childhood memories of magical genie wishes have inspired the heir to move to Moonlight Falls in search of the supernatural! They must have the supernatural fan trait and become an occult sim (by whatever means necessary). Their spouse must also be an occult, but a different type to the heir. The heir must max the alchemy skill, but can choose any of the EP’s lifetime wishes. They will be so busy with their extraordinary magical life that there is no time for mundane things like housework... luckily Bonehilda is on hand to sort it out!

🍂 Nine: Seasons

This EP doesn’t come with any new lifetime wishes or a new world and doesn’t add a substantial amount of new gameplay (unlike generations). I’m not sure how I want to use it, or if I will skip it/combine it with another EP. For now I’m leaving it in as a wild card.

🎓 Ten: University Life

Gen ten is all about the pursuit of knowledge! The heir must attend university and can choose to study any of the majors I’ve never played. They can also choose ay of the EP’s lifetime wishes. The heir must gain the two extra trait slots by completing their degree and reaching max influence with at least one social group. They must also max the social networking skill. After returning from university the heir will make their home in Lucky Palms and pursue a career related to their chosen degree or social group. Because I’ve already played with plantsims, I might choose to add an alien to the family instead.

🏝️ Eleven: Island Paradise

The generation eleven heir loves to swim and will move to Isla Paradiso to live right on the water - literally - because they own a houseboat. They can choose any of the EP’s lifetime wishes but must also own a resort. Profits from their resort empire will support them while they explore the island and max the scuba diving skill. There are rumours of mermaids in the island’s waters... will the heir be lucky enough to befriend one?

🚀 Twelve: Into the Future

The oceans are rising and the island is no longer paradise! The heir knows that the advanced technology is the key to the future... but will the future be utopian or dystopian? They will have the bot fan trait and must max the advanced technology and bot building skills. They can choose any of the EP’s lifetime wishes. I don’t where we’ll end up at the end of the challenge... possibly on Lunar Lakes!

That’s the plan anyway! I might not stick to it exactly, but I’m excited to play every generation/EP which is kind of the point of a lepacy challenge after all!

Feel free to use/adapt for your own purposes!

#long post #sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 legacy #ts3 legacy #ts3 lepacy #sims 3 lepacy #lepacy challenge #legacy challenge #ts3 challenge #sims 3 challenge #plumb lepacy #isadora plumb

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rightsockjin · 4 years

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Summary: SCOOBY DOO AU! Seokjin and his dog Jjangu, have a special bond, one that no one could ever challenge and it was absolutely adorable. They were always paired up to scope out the place, but when Namjoon decides to pair the team off differently and you get stuck with him instead, things take a turn for the worst…or is it for the best? ZOINKS!

Rating: M

Genre: SMUT! Mystery. Slight enemy to lover

Warnings: Food play, fingers. licking, sucking. Cunnalingus. lewd noises. Walked in on kinda. Jin is thirsty. Y/N is thirsty. Both have a meal. Moaning. Haunted house.

Word count: 4,887

Author’s note: This is so loosely based off of Scooby Doo it almost doesn’t make sense to say it is based off of it but it’s more about the vibe of Jin’s outfit. Also! Spooky season had begun! And this is a good kick off.

“Jin and Y/N, can you guys check out the west wing?”

With those eleven words from the leader’s lips, the whole dynamic of the group was turned around. Jjangu whined at his feet. His cute puppy eyes stared up at him like he knew he would be separated from his owner soon. This wasn’t normal. He usually wasn’t paired up with anyone. It was usually him and Jjangu against whatever crazy conspiracy they were checking out which always made him feel safer because dogs tended to have a sixth sense that most people lacked, but you had joined and now it seemed that he’d have to endure the presence of another person.

This wouldn’t have been a problem had it been anyone else but Namjoon knew Jin had a slight crush on you that he didn’t know how to handle and it seemed like Namjoon was just trying to push his buttons. You didn’t even like him anyway. He knew that. It was in the way that you looked at Taehyung and the way you laughed at his jokes and how close you seemed to be. He had no interest in being your second choice. No interest whatsoever but it seemed that Namjoon, the ever observant nearly omniscient leader, hadn’t noticed what he had.

“I’m going to take Jjangu with Jungkook and I-” the leader began but Jin cut him off instantly.

“Why can’t he come with me?”

Namjoon glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes for a split second, but you were too focused on Taehyung- again- to even notice. Jin gave the leader a look that had embedded a question.

Namjoon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“JK and I are going to the most arguably haunted part of the house and I doubt highly that Jk’s muscles will do much if we can’t see what’s around the corner. You know that Jjangu is much better at warning us when there’s something afoot.”

Jin’s heart sank. Namjoon had a point. The east wing had the most noise coming from it and he was arguably in more danger than he would be. Jjangu was a valuable asset. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to argue.

“But then what about me? I’m never paired up without him! Look at his puppy eyes…”

Namjoon indulged him but wasn’t deterred, “I need him Jin. You have an actual human with you this time.”

“So do you! And Jungkook had muscles! Y/N is built like a damn noodle.”

“Hey!”

Jin snapped his head to look at you, unamused with your interjection.

“Tell me I’m wrong, doll face.”

You glared at him, mirroring his crossed arms, then looked back at Namjoon expectantly. When he said nothing she scoffed.

“I don’t want to go with him if he doesn’t want me there. Just let me go with Taehyung or something-”

“No,” Namjoon interrupted, “Look, you wanted to come along and as much as we enjoy having you around, this is serious business. Things can go very wrong in one of our missions and it’s my call as to what happens. I need you to do as I say. It’s for everyone’s best interest.”

He turned to Jin then, “You know better than to question me. Just do it. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Jin slumped but knew he had a point. He glanced over at you, “I’m sorry. He’s right.”

He gave Jjangu a sad smile and like he had just spoken directly to him, the puppy walked over to Namjoon and sat with a diligent growl. Satisfied, Namjoon looked at his team who split into their otherwise usual groups- Joon and JK, Yoongi and Hope, Jimin and Taehyung- then looked at Jin and yourself.

Reluctantly, Jin walked over and stood by you. How could he have known from the way you filched at his proximity that in a matter of minutes he’d have you bent over a table and his face would be buried in your lower lips?

The answer? He couldn’t have known, but he’d have to thank Namjoon later.

It was silent as you both walked into the hallway that led into the west wing, contrary to the reports of screams and moaning that had brought the extended mystery gang to investigate. In a way, it made it even more creepy. The flickering of the lights that lined the walls made you jump and the cool air seemed to nip at your skin. Why had you worn a skirt to investigate a haunting? What made you think that your orange corduroy skirt and a maroon turtleneck would keep you warm in the near middle of winter in Seoul? Nothing. Nothing had told you this was a good idea, except for that stupid voice in your head that told you that maybe, just maybe, Jin would finally look at you as something more than an annoying girl who clung onto his friend group.

Though judging by his reaction only seconds before, it wasn’t looking good. Namjoon had done you a solid back there after you had confessed to him that you had a massive crush on Jin but it seemed that your attempts and his help were fruitless.

Up ahead, you could see a multitude of doors. As you walked, the wooden floor of the manor creaked and once again you jumped. Jin, having been ignoring your reactions for the last ten minutes, chose this instance to acknowledge your existence.

He sighed, his shoulder slumping as he slowly turned to look at you.

“Are you sure you’re cut out to be scouting, Y/N?”

No. You were not sure you were. You were easily frightened and the occult wasn’t your cup of tea but Namjoon had assured you it wouldn’t be horrible as places like these were usually a hoax but you saw no cameras. No signs of rigs or traps. You saw nothing to suggest a hoax.

“Y-yeah. Totally.”

It was then that another loud creak and a prolonged, pained moan vibrated through the hallway that you and Jin were in. You felt all the blood drain from your face and a shiver of fear ran straight through you like the ghost that was supposed to haunt these rooms.

Jin watched you in shock. Usually, he was every bit as scared as you seemed but something had possessed him and instead of fear, he was filled with worry and determination. He had a job to do and the quicker he cleared your side of the manor, the quicker he could get you out of the house.

“It’s probably nothing,” he assured you, “probably one of the guys trying to freak us out. Come on.”

The firmness in his voice surprised him. It didn’t waver. It was strong. Confident. A shiver went down your back completely unrelated to the coldness of the season.

He took a step over to the first door on his left but when he didn’t hear your booted steps behind him he stopped and looked over his shoulder. You hadn’t moved at all. He let his eyes rake your body but only for a second. And a second was all he needed. The way that your long legs were framed by the slightly too short skirt made his mind run wild with thoughts too unholy to entertain. Why had you worn something so inappropriate for such an occasion? Namjoon’s words came back to him then.

“She likes you.” He had said. Had he been right? Had you maybe worn the deceivingly tight shirt with- were you even wearing a bra? Jesus you mustn’t be with the way that your breasts were outlined so perfectly against the thin fabric of your turtle neck. He shook his head as blood began to collect in an unfavorable place. This wasn’t what you guys were there for.

With exasperation and a little bit of nerves running through his body, he reached out and grabbed your hand pulling you forward.

You stumbled but didn’t fall. His hand in yours made you feel less alone in the slightly darkened house. You could smell the dust in the air and something that smelled like… apples and musk.

Jin hesitated for only a second longer before he wrapped his long fingers around the brass knob. It was cold to the touch. Unlike your hand in his.

The room was dark and the last thing he wanted to do was throw you into the unknown. He felt around for a light switch. Instantly, the hum of machines filled your ears. An unappealing white light filled your field of vision, blinding you slightly.

Briefly, Jin’s hand tightened around yours as he ventured further into the room. As soon as you were in, the door that Jin had opened, slammed shut, hitting your ass and pushing you farther in.

“Ow! What the- did…did that just close on it’s own?” Without thinking, you clung onto Jin’s arm and hid behind his towering figure. Jin felt his stomach drop, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of you clinging to him, or the door.

Decisively, Jin took a step towards the door and tried to open it. Unsurprisingly, it was jammed. His heart sank. He was trapped in a room in a house that was supposedly haunted. This could not be worse. You could have been with Jungkook who had the muscles to protect you, or with Taehyung, who had no fear in the face of danger, or even with Namjoon, who always had a plan, but no… you were stuck with him and he felt guilty.

Would he be able to protect you if something really dangerous happened? Given, these expeditions didn’t usually turn truly dangerous but in the case it did, would he step up? Or would he fall into his old ways and leave you to fend for yourself?

“It must have been a draft or something… and the wood is probably swollen from age… It’s nothing,” he assured, though he wasn’t sure himself.

Jin turned back around to look at the rest of the room. What would Namjoon do? Scope out the room and find another way out. He was met with a larger than normal looking kitchen. The hum from the refrigerator seemed to drone on and on.

There was an oven and a stove. Some carts to wheel food, multiple counters covered in what looked like… fresh fruit?

Curious, Jin took a step forward. A loud crack of what seemed to be a speaker echoed in the room. Fear ran through Jin’s body and instinctively, he jumped behind you. He used your small body as a shield, his front pressed firmly to your back side.

Through the fabric of his pants, you could feel…something, lightly poking you. It was just a hint. The idea of something you hadn’t realized you might be able to have, to evoke in him. It was thrilling to say the least. Confusing at its core.

Oh.. unfortunate choice of words.

And suddenly, you weren’t exactly scared anymore. At least not for the same reason. What had Namjoon said to you earlier? That these places were usually not haunted but set up to seem so. What did you have to fear?

Only one thing. Rejection.

Subtly, you pushed your ass back into what you hoped was the beginning of a hard on. There was a road that led from hate straight to love and lust. If you could push just the right buttons, then maybe, your situation could change.

Jin was panicking. And for once, it wasn’t because he was the only one who thought that the house they were investigating was truly haunted. No, it was for something much less precedent.

You.

As soon as he had felt you shift ever so slightly against him and your round, plush…strong, ass grazed against his excited member he knew. He just knew he was screwed. Well… if he was lucky. Should he push? Should he pry…your legs apart…

Over your shoulder, he chanced an inquisitive glance down. He was met instantly with the curve and slope of your perfect breast. Through the fabric, once again he was forced to notice the peaking of what he imagined to be your nipples.

The outline of something textured was also present. Jin found his fingers twitching from your arms to try and touch it. But he couldn’t. Not without knowing that you wanted him to.

Again, as if you were reading his mind, you pressed your backside into his pelvis. Were you doing it on purpose? It almost felt like it could be an accident. He couldn’t tell.

Carefully, you took a step away from Jin. He let his grip on you fall as you walked with no intent present towards the table covered in food.

He could see a bowl full of something white and very near it what he assumed were strawberries. Perhaps, chocolate sauce. Honey? He wasn’t sure from his vantage point. With legs heavy as bricks, Jin walked closer to the same table. Your back was still to him and he was partially grateful for that since there was something else heavy between his thighs that was making it hard to move.

As he neared you, you listened. His footsteps echoed in the vast kitchen. Intent absent but curiosity present. You didn’t have a plan. Not something tangible. But you had felt it. The hope that blossomed between your back and his pelvis.

So without taking a second to consider what it was that you were doing. You bent yourself nearly in half and dipped a finger in what looked like caramel sauce. The breeze hit you almost instantly.

Jin watched in shock as your skirt rose up the short amount it could. But what was more of a shock, a surprise, was not that your skirt was pulled up over your ass or the fact that it was being so readily presented to him. No, it was instead the fact that your ass and lower was bare. A thin strip of fabric the same color of your turtle neck ran up your round cheeks, separating them slightly. The same fabric covered your core. A mark of wetness stained it.

As quietly as he could, he slapped his own cheek. Once, then twice, then once more for good measure but still you were bent in half and your skin was on display. For him. It had to be for him.

He watched as you dipped your finger into the runny substance nearest you. You hooked it. A glob of the substance clung to it, then oozed slowly down and back in the bowl. Jin watched, his mouth dry as your pink tongue darted out of your mouth and intercepted the substance.

A thick glob landed on it but you didn’t pull it into your lips. Instead, you let the liquid like substance drip down and onto your chin and progressively back into the bowl. It was a couple of seconds later that you finally pulled your tongue back where it should be and hummed delighted.

“You should taste this caramel Jin,” you said, your voice had lowered an octave and it did things to his now very hard member.

“Sh-,” he cleared his throat, “Shouldn’t you not eat that? I- I mean… it could be poisoned.”

You chuckled. Idiot. Why hadn’t that crossed your mind? Well… honestly if you were gonna die then you guessed deliciously was the best way to go. And with some good cock to be the cherry on top.

“Best poison I’ve ever tasted,” you joked, licking at your chin and your lips. Without hesitation, you dipped the same finger into the whipped cream in the bowl next to the strawberries.

You didn’t mess around. You put your whole finger in your mouth and suck it clean of any and all sugar.

You made a show of it. Tilting your head back and arching your spine in further presentation of your private area. You moaned around your finger.

“You’re crazy,” Jin said from behind you and you deflated slightly, feeling embarrassed. Shouldn’t he have jumped your bones by now? Ravaged you? Shouldn’t he have had some reaction aside from talking about what you were eating? For God’s sake, you were ass up and legs spread to him.

Shouldn’t he… have at least taken a step closer to you?

Slowly, and unsure of what the hell had gotten into you, you began to straighten. How could you have thought that this would work? Jin clearly didn’t like you. Namjoon had lied and whatever you had thought you had felt was all in your head.

But then there was a warm hand on your lower back. Fingers splayed and pushing to keep you arched. Pressed up. Another hand, ever so gently, and delicately, began to run up one of your thighs. It was a feather light touch. If you weren’t so present and sensitive you may not have even felt it. But then he was at your inner thigh, writing hangul into the skin.

“I didn’t say you should stop,” he whispered. His breath was warm on your shoulder. You were frozen. What did you do now?

“Do- would you like to try some?” You asked, almost like a waitress offering a house wine.

Jin didn’t know how to proceed. But he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass him up.

“Hand me a strawberry,” he said and you did so quickly.

You picked the first one you saw right off the top and held it up for him. Instead of taking either hand off of you, he learned down and wrapped his plush lips around the tip and sucked the fruit into his mouth.

Red juice oozed out of the corner of his lips. You licked your own as his hand moved up slightly. His palm barely graced your exposed skin.

“Delicious,” he groaned, watching your mouth.

You weren’t even sure what he was talking about but boy did you want to find out.

“Want a taste?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer. Instead, he reached over your head, his hips pressed against the bareness of your butt and his chest touched over your shoulders. The warmth that radiated from his body made goosebumps break out in the places that weren’t touching him.

He plucked a particularly juicy strawberry from the cluster and twirled it in front of your face. Your mouth watered. You waited patiently as he seemed to be admiring the perfectness of the fruit before he dipped it into the whipped cream and brought it to your lips.

“Open,” he breathed by your ear. You let your jaw fall into a perfect ‘O’ as he brought it closer to you. Slowly, almost as if he were the one enjoying the flavor, he placed it on your tongue. You waited for him to speak. To tell you what to do. But when no command came, you closed your mouth and bit down.

A symphony of juices met your taste buds. The fruit was sweet and delectable. Tart but cut with the sugar of the whip.

Jin’s member throbbed in it’s restraints. The pure pleasure that was evident on the part of your face he could see was enchanting. Drops of strawberry juice dripped down his long finger and onto his wrist.

You didn’t wait for him to ask. You licked the delicious juice from his skin. The wet muscle picking up every last drop. Somehow, it tasted better from his hand than it would have from your own. Somehow you knew this.

Jin let out a muffled moan. If your tongue felt that good on his finger, he could only imagine how good it would feel elsewhere. All over him. Jin’s hand suddenly cupped your burning core. A gush of your own juices flowed out of you at the contact.

“You know,” Jin said as you continued to suck at his fingers greedily, “ these strawberries are delectable but… I have the feeling that they’re nowhere nearly as sweet as you?”

It was a question. He was asking you if he could have a taste. Of you. Of the juices that came from within you. How could you refuse?

Slowly, you nodded your consent. Without skipping a beat, his fingers pressed softly into your mounds and he pulled himself off of you.

You felt him squat behind you. His face now level with your center. You heard him gasp. His hand fell away. You felt self-conscious but you held yourself how you were. The taste of the fruit was still present on your tongue.

“No underwear?”

You swallowed the lump of embarrassment in your throat before you spoke, “No-not really. The shirt had a b-built in set-” A kiss on your thigh stopped your explanation.

Jin looked at your slits with the eyes of hunger. He had never felt more ravenous in his whole life. He had a feeling he could never get his fill.

A glint of silver caught his eye. Clips, where the shirt was held together at your core. With trembling hands, he hooked a finger under it and pulled it away from your skin. Already, his finger was coated in your slick. Excitement coursed through him, but he had to be patient.

He pulled at the clips and they came apart easily. A gust of cool air hit your slick slits and you couldn’t help but moan.

Jin let out an impressed whistle. He licked his thick lips. But first…

“Can you pull your shirt up?” he asked you. He held himself at bay even when your arousal hit his nose. His mouth was watering. Saliva pooled on his tongue.

You did what he asked, pulling the shirt out of the skirt and up over your breasts exposing your completely transparent bralette. From where he was sitting, he could vaguely make out the swell of your breast and the peak of your nipple, as pert and perfect as the strawberry that he had picked up earlier.

Finally satisfied, he shuffled a little closed to your center and took a deep breath. Shiver ran down your legs and your spine. Jin didn’t know where to start. Every angle of you looked delectable. Like a full course meal. Did he start with the potatoes or the beef? Did he skip and go straight for the desert?

He decided that he wanted to better see what was being offered to him. So carefully, he pulled your lower lips apart. Thick strands of slick webbed your labia together. Instantly, like the sauce from earlier, it began to drip from the quantity and weight of it.

Jin’s eyes widened. More was dripping out of your entrance, like a fountain. Still he held back, feeling the need to check on you one last time and ask for a final favor before he began his meal.

“If it’s okay with you, I don’t like to eat alone. I would like it if you ate with me.”

You weren’t sure exactly what he meant. But you were eager to please. So you nodded and did the only logical thing you could think of. You picked up another one of the strawberries and held it up for him to see. When you felt him pat your leg in confirmation, you put the fruit in your mouth.

Jin, feeling like he finally had the go ahead, leaned in. His mouth hung open, his tongue poking over his bottom lip. He shut his eyes, intent on enjoying what was sure to be his favorite new meal.

His tongue lightly but not limply slotted between your slits and you felt your whole body convulse. You choked on the fruit in your mouth. You coughed and sputtered but Jin didn’t feel phased.

The very tip of his tongue was grazing your clit. It was torturous. The lack of movement. You wanted more. You need him to give you more.

Then as if he had heard your thoughts, hit wet muscles suddenly moved up to your hole. It prodded at it before he suctioned his lips to the circumference and drank your essence.

You moaned through another mouthful of strawberry. It made a wave of pleasure run over Jin’s body. He groaned into your body. Sucking and pushing his tongue into your core. He fucked it into your heat as deep as he could make it go.

You sucked at the strawberry in your hand, scared to take another bite but too into what he asked to stop all together.

“Fuck, Jin I-”

He pulled away with a wet pop of his lips. You could hear him smack his lips, then he sighed happily.

“Don’t tempt me with that mouth Jagiya,” you said pressing a kiss to your pulsing clit. You shivered as he rubbed his lips over it. Shock after shock of elation ran into your stomach. You were close. You were so close. The cold of the room and the heat of your arousal contrasted so well. A heap of sensations that you didn’t realize you liked all added up to something that made your legs weak at the knees.

Maybe it was because Jin was the one between your legs. You weren’t sure.

He began to kitten lick at your bud. Your knees began to cave but you held yourself up with your arms. It was too good. Too much.

“Jin, please I’m going to…ah.. I’m gonna-”

But he didn’t answer. He only continued his ministrations. Licking harder, slower. Moaning against your bundle of nerves. With every hard lick came a wave of heat that coiled into what you knew would be a hard orgasm.

“Don’t stop… please,” you begged. And he didn’t. Delicious. His tongue was the definition of heaven and all things good.

He let go of your lower lips and held your thighs up to his mouth. You were on the edge. Your blood pulsed at the speed of light between your legs. Then, the coil snapped and you saw white. Your body pulsed, your mouth dropped and your whole body tensed.

You moaned Jin’s name not thinking about your volume. Not caring either. He kept going, not caring that you seemed done.

You were too delicious. Too sweet to let go. Like honey or butter scotch. God, he could eat you out all night long. He could live happily between your legs. He wanted to. He would love to be attached to you this way. God what a wonderful gift to be able to taste you like he was doing that instant. He let up on your clit but had no intentions of pulling away. He drank up your cum like it was the first sip of water he had ever had. Your entrance clenched as he dipped his tongue in and moaned and groaned and ate like the king he was.

Gluttony was a sin. But he’d be damned to give this up.

Suddenly, you both heard footsteps from outside the door. Jin froze, his lips again stuck to your entrance. Your body was weak and overstimulated. Neither of you dared to make any noise.

The familiar voices of the guys could be heard but they were muffled through the wall. You expected Jin to pull away from you but were surprised when he went right back to his suckling.

“Jin, “ you whined, pulling yourself away, but he followed, slurping noisily and moaning against you.

“Seokjin,” you said again, hoping he would stop but it was like he was deaf.

“I’m sure they came this way,” you heard what you thought was the voice of Hoseok from outside.

“It was a bad idea to give them this section,” a voice that sounded a lot like Jimin said, “If I remember correctly, I think the kitchen is right over here.”

Again, Jin moaned from between your legs. A new orgasm was begging to build at your core. Coming much faster and stronger. You bit your lip to try and keep your gasps of pleasure at bay.

He reached up with a single finger and began to rub tight circles on your clit. You couldn’t help the scream that escaped you.

The footsteps outside the room stopped. You could almost hear the confusion and fear from the other side.

“Did you hear that,” What sounded like Jungkook asked.

“Y-yeah,” someone else, possibly Taehyung answered.

“Did that sound like-”

“That sounded like-”

And then Jjangu barked at the door and you knew. You just knew that you were screwed.

Then it hit you. An orgasm so strong it felt like an explosion. Like Dynamite. You moaned loudly, not being able to stop. The barking got louder and there were knocks at the door. Screams of your name and Jin’s but, he was much faster than you anticipated. He pulled his mouth from your core and flipped your around. He connected his messy lips with yours and pulled your shirt over your perfect chest.

When the door opened, he didn’t stop. His body covered yours. And you didn’t see their reaction but it must have been priceless because all you heard were shocked gasps from your group of friends, then the slam of a door.

You guessed Namjoon was right.

Master list

#kim seokjin #jin #bts jin #jin smut #Jin fluff #jin angst #jin crack #dynamite #bts #bts yoongi #bts fanfic #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts pets #bts smut

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a-lonely-tatertot · 4 years

Text

Finding Home

A/N: Introducingggggg AMY and linh! it gets gay at the end dont worry, once again thanking @bookwyrminspiration for betaing for me!

Tw: mention of injuries and some phantom pains (is that what they’re called??)

Word count: 2279

Chapter 2: Runaway

A month and an accepted roommate later, she got to remember she was Sophie for a minute. Sophie before everything happened. She saw her sister for the first time since their parents were kidnapped and it knocked the breath out of her. Short, bright pink hair blowing around her set face, Amy’s wide eyes stared up at the apartment complex.

The stairs passed in a blur as Sophie barreled down them almost tripping over her feet on the way down. Amy, her Amy. “Amy!” she yelled barreling into her sister. A moment too late she thought it would be extremely awkward if it wasn’t Amy.

But it was, and she hugged her tighter than ever. Sophie buried her head in Amy’s short hair taking in the comfort of her sister. “You smell weird,” she whispered.

“Missed you too, sis,” Amy chuckled lightly.

“Dyed your hair and got glasses?” Sophie said, pulling away and holding her at arm's length.

“Sorry, are we not going to address the fact that you’re passing as human? Under my original name?” Amy asked.

“Uh yeah guess I’ve got a bit of explaining to do.” Sophie rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oh yeah, but over coffee, because I was not ready to see my sister for the first time in over ten years,” she laughed, “And I need a lot more energy cause we have a lot of talking to do.”

So they talked and talked until the sun set behind the skyline and the street lights flickered on empty roadways. They talked until they were out of coffee to drink and snacks to eat and stars to count.

Sophie could barely pay attention to the first day of classes. Every flash of strawberry blonde and soft eyes sent her back. Back to bright mornings and weird lockers and one on one classes. But not only that; it sent her back to her friends. Dex appeared in the ramblings of Jena, one of Amy’s many friends who could talk for hours about chemicals and science. He clouded her memory when she walked into Chemistry and it threw her back to his laboratory. She thought of him looking at the skinny, freckled covered kid that hung onto her Quantum Theory teacher’s every word.

When she walked into the library, three days in, and saw the spiraling stacks she remembered Fitz and how he could get lost in a book and never leave the pages.

Marella could be found in the rare smiles that were Anaz. How sarcastic comments came to her with ease and there was always gossip flooding the halls.

In her English teacher’s humor, she found Keefe. How Sophie collected pens just because they were there and how doodles filled Amy’s margins.

Red became her color. In the morning when she didn’t know what to wear Biana flooded her mind. When she didn’t know how to hide her scars she thought of her. Sophie would wear them as a testament to the people she left behind. And when her eyes caught sight of the scars that littered another student’s body, clear on their dark skin, she stood a little taller. They were a testament to survival.

Tam, she remembered when the world was so loud. How he was able to control his impulses, his power, his shadows like her telepathy and inflicting. When she just wanted to hide from it all she remembered him, and kept going.

And the one that came as a surprise to her was Stina. The cold exterior and the sense of superiority that followed Henry, who locked so much of him away in a tiny box, to hide from the rest of the world. And how when you really got to know them there wasn’t a small corner that was as cold as it seemed.

But the one that never really went away was Linh. It didn’t surprise her. No, she knew she would never really get Linh out of her head. So Sophie accepted the small tug that came with seeing people together. As they laughed and smiled and hugged, as two girls held hands firmly; she wondered if that could’ve ever been them. If their broken world would’ve allowed it.

When she thought of them, her hand found her neck and the crystal and she held on tight only to let go. Because that was no longer her, and those people were no longer her’s. Amilia Ruewen did not know them. The crystal was all she had left of them.

And at some point that would have to be okay.

“You’re coming to this club with the group tonight,” Amy grinned. Ugh, a night with Amy’s friends? Sounded like torture.

“Why?” Sophie asked. In her head and in her apartment, they were Sophie and Amy. To the world, their jobs, their school, their friends, they were Amilia and Natalie.

She didn’t have work until Saturday and she had already finished her homework and Amy knew this. There wasn’t a way she wasn’t going. Amy looked up and smiled all teeth, all eyes. Someone save me, Sophie thought.

Spoiler: it went a lot worse than she expected.

There was a feeling that Sophie knew well. It was why she was here in the first place. The feeling started in her wrists, where she had been bound countless times. It spread up and down to the edges of her fingers which had caused so much pain. The fingers that held weapons and the hands that held both the blood of her enemies and friends. It filled her shoulders with tension and her legs with a need to run. But she couldn’t. She was surrounded by bodies, moving, dancing, controlled by the beat of the drums that shook her core like a war cry. That was because it was a war cry. The image of her friends, the small family she had made, half-dead and filling up every bed in the Healing Center. She had run away from them. That was what she alone had done. Sophie ran from the dangers and the responsibility.

Coward.

“Breathe,” an order. In. Out. One. Two. Three.

“Sophie? Soybean?” Amy’s voice. Amy’s hands on her shoulders. “Hey, hey,” her fingers cradled her jaw. “You’re right here, I got you, you’re okay. We won, it’s over.”

But it wasn’t. At night the demons came back to haunt her. And she would be running from them for the rest of her life.

Sophie had told herself when she left the Lost Cities she wasn’t following orders anymore. Little notes and anonymous gifts were things of the past. She told herself this as she took a picture of her shifts for the next week. They flowed through her mind as she wrote notes for a lecture. Words scribbled on papers and typed on documents controlled her whether she wanted them to or not. They set the path and all she had to do was follow it.

This time it wasn’t directed at her.

“Hey Soph, you got anyone who would send you mail?” Amy called from the hallway.

“Nope!” She had barely even heard what Amy had said, too absorbed by homework.

“Huh, okay.”

“You sure it’s not for you? It’s from that town like an hour north of campus,” Amy asked a minute later, shoving the envelope in front of her computer. “Get out of your nerd stuff and look at important things.”

Sophie made a noise but took the envelope, “My nerd stuff is important!”

Amy chuckled lightly, “Sure dear, you’re almost as bad as Jena.”

“My lord Amy it has your name on it,” Sophie shook her head, “And Jena is really smart and, unlike you, actually capable of holding an intellectual conversation!”

“Huh, guess I’m blind.” Rolling her eyes, she went back to her homework as Amy tore open the letter. Where was she? Oh yeah-

“Do you know about that road house right outside of town?”

“Amy I swear if you interrupt me one more time-”

Amy ignored her, “It’s a coupon to there. We could take the gang this weekend.”

“Yeah sure, totally, now just let me finish my homework,” Sophie said, not realizing that she could’ve just agreed to anything.

“Nat you can drink?” Amilia asked. It was a running gag.

“Oh shush, I’m not eleven anymore!” Natalie retorted. And she wasn’t eleven, she was twenty-three and Amilia had to remind herself of that often.

The roadhouse was dark, full of wooden booths. In the corner there was a pool table surrounded by a group of guys. Amilia sat at a table with three of Nat’s friends, her friends, she reminded herself. Thunk! The sound of darts reminded her of throwing stars. Shaking her head slightly she tried not to think about all she had left behind. Amilia, she thought, but it echoed outside her head.

“Amilia!” Tina called, waving her hand in front of her.

“Sorry, what?” she asked. Get out of your head, she thought sternly.

They all chuckled quietly and tampered off into their different conversations. It was a nice normal, zoning in and out, the words just soft buzzing. She traced the rough wood of the roadhouse with her eyes. The chipped, frayed edges. Dark, daunting, but cozy. The roof domed up to balconies with rooms for the inn part. Sophie didn’t know if anyone actually stayed there anymore. Posts came down into booths, to a karaoke machine in the corner, to the bar that stretched along the entire left side. There was a girl, flannel tight around her waist, short dark hair held up by various barrettes keeping the strands away from her face. The pen and cups flew through her hands with experience and it was mesmerizing to watch. Sophie couldn’t see her face, but there was a tugging feeling that the girl was familiar. From a past life, she thought, and laughed. She had had many past lives. At this point she wouldn’t know which one the girl would’ve been from. If she would just look up, the urge to know who she was got stronger. She was someone to her someone important-

Crash. Her heart pounded, her ears rang. The shattering sound of glass was ironic because it played backwards in her ears. Shattered heart becoming whole.

Sophie, because to that face that was all she was. Her feet moved without her permission.

Because this girl wasn’t just someone to her, she was everything to her.

She was the hardest to leave behind and the only one that could make her stay.

“I’m supposed to be bartending,” Linh whispered into her shoulder, “and your friends are looking at us.”

“Fuck off, I get the longest hug I want after not seeing you for a decade,” Sophie laughed stubbornly into her shoulder.

Linh turned her head into Sophie’s neck and hummed quietly, “I think that’s fair.”

For the first time she relaxed. The world fell off her shoulders and she realized this was the feeling she had been chasing. Linh smelled like cigar smoke and whiskey and cats (she made a mental note to ask about that later). But she knew, as she shifted closer, holding Linh as tight as she could, after all those years she would still smell like the ocean, she’d still smelled like home.

The next morning she found herself passed out in a room that wasn’t her own. An old lamp sat on a wooden nightstand. Next to it, barely lit, was a piece of paper. In big bold letters it read: The Western RoadHouse. In scratchy handwriting there was a note. it filled the entire card,words running into each other. In her very tired state Sophie could barely decipher it.

Hey! Sorry I had to work early and you looked way too peaceful to wake up. How much of last night do you remember? We talked about how I got here, and how you got here. And, well, we talked for hours and did you know the more tired you are the pinker your ears get? And the easier it is the fluster you? You also get clingy and rub your eyes a lot. I ended up having to carry you up to my room and swear to Amy on everything that I had you would be okay. But I realized in that minute in a half of hauling your dead weight and listening to you murmur in your sleep that I had missed you. I ran away because I’ve always been running, but I don’t wanna run anymore. If you’d let me, I’d like to run to you instead. This is me asking if you’ll be my girlfriend, or just go out on a date if you didn’t get that. So yeah? Can I run to you?

For a moment she thought she was dreaming. Then she read it again and all she could do was laugh. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she grabbed a pen and paper and wrote a simple message in neat, loopy handwriting.

Well then runaway,

Come running.

She wrote her and Amy’s address at the bottom and slipped it into Linh’s bag on the nightstand on her way out. When Amy pulled up in the van she only raised an eyebrow.

“Did you win?” she asked, turning down the music slightly as Sophie closed the door.

She smiled, mouth crooked, eyes wrinkled, for once unguarded and wild. “Yeah, I think I did.” Whoops and hollers rang out from the back where her friends crowded together. They whooped and hollered and clapped her on the shoulder as Amy pulled the van out of the lot.

Tag list: @enbies-and-felonies, @clearlykeefitz, @ruewen-and-rising, @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @linhamon-roll @lemontarto @rainbowtay-11 @an-absolute-travesty @girlofmanyfandoms(if you want to be added or removed come find me here)

#finding home #tater writes #kotlc #kotlc fic #sophie foster #amy foster #linh song #injuries tw #phantom pains tw #keeper of the lost cities #solinh

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pigeontheoneandonly · 4 years

Text

Routine

For @autodiscothings, whom I told I would write this thing about eleven million years ago.

The droning buzz of a hairdryer woke Nathaly Shepard from a sound sleep.

It took a solid minute to identify what she was hearing. Another to raise her bleary eyes to the bedside clock. 0530. Though an early riser by nature, it had been a very long night, they were in port, and she was relishing the thought of sleeping in, tucked warm into her own bed.

She rolled onto her back, and winced at a twinge in her hip. Yes, a long and, ah, energetic night, and she had receipts to prove it. Ones that seemed to get longer as she got older. Shepard rubbed her eyes, old mascara flaking onto her fingertips, and reached out her arm across the sheets, fully intending to cuddle into Kaidan and go back to sleep.

And kept reaching, all the way to the far edge of the mattress. Then patted the bedding, and finally looked up towards the bathroom. Right. She could hear the hairdryer, ergo someone was using a hairdryer, and the only candidate was her intended body pillow. Not that this answer made any more sense. For all his years in the service and the early mornings that implied, she’d learned to schedule briefings after nine if she wanted any sense out of him.

Stifling a yawn, she dragged herself to sitting, shivering in the cold canned air of the ship. Wrapped the duvet around her shoulders like a cape and wandered to the coffee maker. For a minute she made a bleary contemplation of the work required to load the machine, before deciding yesterday’s grounds still had some life in them and simply pressed start.

The hairdryer cut out. Her ears rang in the sudden silence. God, that thing was loud. But as her hearing ramped back up into normal range, she detected another sound coming from the bathroom. Whistling?

Shepard shuffled across the cabin. Yes, definitely a whistle, off-key and a semblance of the same song they heard last night leaving Apollo’s. She pressed her hand to the door’s haptic pad and it zipped open.

Kaidan stopped mid-bar and flashed her a smile. Shirtless, a towel wrapped around his hips. “Morning.”

Ordinarily she might have been distracted. But instead, she stared in dismay at the dozen-odd tubes, canisters, and combs littering her sink. “What is all… this?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t remember?”

At the shake of her head, he continued, “We were half asleep. I said it would be hard to go back to a hot bunk after sleeping in the lap of luxury.” Gesturing vaguely at her cabin. “And you said to hell with that, and dragged us downstairs to collect my stuff. I think you woke up half the crew scrounging around.”

A fuzzy memory of doing exactly that trickled back. Exhausted Nathaly didn’t typically look after her interests quiet that well. “I guess that’s one awkward announcement we were spared. But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

She picked up a jar. “What is all this stuff?”

He gave it a glance. “That one’s pomade.”

“Ok.” Then it dawned on her, like an ancient horror rising from the sea. “These aren’t all hair care products… are they?”

Hoping against every instinct and the evidence of her own eyes the answer was no.

Kaidan considered the array. “Yeah. I mean, I always have to pick and choose to meet baggage allowance on deployment, and it’s been hard to find anything since the war started, but we make do.” Then he got a look at her face. “What?”

Shepard tread carefully. “You’ve collected quite a few.”

“Well, you must have your own, right? Since you lost most of your hair.”

That was delicately put. Cerberus had shaved off eleven years of growth to better access her scalp, and in a little over a year it felt like it’d barely grown out at all. Especially because she had to trim it to keep it healthy. Impulsively buzzing off the sides a few months after being resurrected hadn’t helped, either. “I’m more of a wash and wear type.”

An expression of sudden understanding came over his face, a major mystery enlightened. “You can’t do that with short hair. Especially not with all of it growing out of the top like that.”

“You can’t?”

“No.” More than a bit of a suppressed chuckle behind that. “Come here.”

He pulled her into the bathroom. She let the duvet fall off before it dragged through the puddle of water from his shower, and let Kaidan position her in front of the mirror. He pressed his hand into her head, palm tickling over the buzzed portion above her ear. “See how it’s sticking up here?”

The left side stood up perpendicular to her skull, a frozen tidal wave of red brushing up against his fingers. “So? It’ll go down when I shower.”

“Which will only dry it into new and stranger patterns.” His fingers combed through it with a fussiness that bordered on professional. “Let me show you an easy fix. If you hate it, you can always wash it out.”

She heaved a sigh. But his hands felt good against her scalp. “Fine.”

“Great.” He seized a spray bottle.

A realization came over her. “You’ve wanted to do this for years, haven’t you.”

“Well…” He tilted his head back and forth. “I always assumed you were rushed in the mornings. You get up so early. I never realized you weren’t doing anything at all.”

Kaidan said this as if it were a great offense. Which, considering his array of products, maybe it was. She switched topics as he started to spray, lifting her hair to get at the roots. “You know, it just occurred to me. All these years and we’ve never done this. The whole morning routine thing.”

“Gender-segregated bathrooms will get you every time.” He scrutinized his work.

“I always thought hairspray came last.”

“It’s not—” Flabbergasted. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in the navy this long and you’ve never heard of dry shampoo.”

Shepard snorted and leaned forward on the counter. “Dry shampoo sounds like a wet sandwich. Useless in every way.”

“It absorbs the grease.”

“So, now I’ve got a head full of greasy powder instead.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is it possible for you to maybe curb the cynicism until I’m finished?”

This was not what she was looking for at the crack of dawn. It was particularly not what she was looking for this morning. But they’d come this far, so she might as well let him finish. “If it comes out weird, you know I’ll never let you live it down.”

“A little confidence, please.” But he smirked as he said it, and reached for another bottle. The label had smudged. He answered her unspoken question. “Frizz control.”

She tilted her head to accommodate his motion. “Feels oily.”

“It won’t when I’ve got it worked in all the way.” His hands roamed her hair. This ordeal felt as intimate as it did awkward. Shepard had no idea which way to tip, emotionally. Kaidan held her hostage by the roots. All she could do was wait for it to be over.

Sure enough, as he combed the serum through, it became weightless on her hair—not that Shepard could see any difference in how it looked. But Kaidan was just getting started. “Great. Now the big one.”

Her eyes widened as he pumped an entire ocean of white foam into his palm. “That’s way too much—”

“Trust me.”

She watched it go into her hair. “It looks like one of those idiot homemade shampoos. Like I’ve got egg whites in my hair.”

Kaidan turned her around, so they were face to face, and she couldn’t see the mirror. “Trust me.”

Shepard sighed and gave up all resistance. His eyes were on her hair. Hers fixed on his mouth, watching it thin and thicken as he worked, chewing it just the slightest bit when he got to a tricky part. She hated standing silent like this. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, because sometimes it felt like she’d missed him so much that she missed him still, now, even though he was here, right in front of her. Like missing him was a groove worn down in her emotional treadmill. A residual reflex. Or like the metallic ghost of adrenaline in her mouth after she won an unexpected fight, lingering on after its purpose was spent.

All those things she didn’t want to remember came back when there wasn’t anything to say or do but wait. The sound of his helmet hitting the shuttle frame on Mars. How pale he got on the flight to the Citadel afterwards. Storming the Presidium in pursuit of Kai Leng, and hearing Bailey say over the comm all the Council’s guards are dead.

Something betrayed her, a flicker in her face, a slight stiffening of her posture, because Kaidan paused and lifted her chin with only slightly sticky fingertips. “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” She forced an easy smile, reassuring. “I’m just… really happy you’re here.”

“Hmm.” By all appearances, he didn’t totally buy it, but he only leaned forward and planted a light kiss on her mouth. Then he made a few final adjustments, and spun her around. “Ta-da.”

Shepard blinked. Her hand rose without any conscious thought and stopped bare millimeters from her hair. “Can I touch it?”

“It’d be a piss-poor job if you couldn’t.”

Her fingers ran gently through the strands. “It’s so soft.”

“Alcohol-free mousse is the way to go.” He watched her in the mirror.

“It looks…” Intentional. It had shape, and volume, more organized than natural thickness. Not just a clump of red falling into her eyes. “It’ll do.”

His face split into a smug grin. Her glance was withering. “Don’t think I’m going to let you do this every day.”

“Nah. You’ll be doing it by yourself within a week.” Then he laughed as she gave him a shove. “Wanna bet?”

Shepard gave herself another look. Very grudging. “Well. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do it like this, just sometimes. Once in a while.”

He put his arms around her, kissed her cheek, and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Despite what you’ve heard, change can be good.”

Her hand cupped his cheek, as she watched them together in the mirror, ridiculously domestic. Together. “There’s at least one I could definitely get used to.”

His answering smile reached his eyes, and made it clear he knew she wasn’t talking about hair.

#mass effect #nathaly shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #fanfiction #fshenko #ME3 #fluff #with just a drop of angst #my spouse owns more hair care products than me #despite the fact that he's had long hair for maybe three years and i've worn it this way most of my life #write what you know 👍

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i-just-tardis-blue-myself · 4 years

Text

Hello, anon!!

I’m guessing you’re asking me this because of the post I made regarding ff the other night. The truth is, I didn’t get to read many whouffaldi fics in ff and I haven’t read a whole lot whouffaldi fics since then. I always circle back to the same authors and stories, because when I tried to read new stuff after it didn’t affect me the way they did back in the day.

So the four authors I mentioned in my early post are the ones I would recommend you to check out. They were, I dare say, the hottest whouffle writers at the time. They all started by publishing Eleven/Clara (good old souffez) and Other Doctors/Clara fics, so if you ship “whouffle” and not only “whouffaldi” you’ll find a gold mine worth of fiction. They all ended up writing Twelve/Clara stories, but not as many with the exception of maybe C1araosw1ad who posted her last whouffaldi fic in 2019.

So that being said, here are my recomendations:

Frombluetored

Heartlines (rated T)

An unknown threat sucks the Doctor and Clara into a parallel universe and leaves them stranded. While biding their time, they encounter the Clara of that universe and her achingly familiar husband.

This story has an especial place in my heart because Heartlines takes place in the same universe of “Of adoration and chaos” an Eleven/Clara fic written by the same author. I’d say “Of adoration” is one of the best souffez fics out there and you don’t need to read it to understand Heartines, but you’ll be missing a great piece of fiction.

Everest (rated T)

AU. The Doctor, recently promoted to CEO after the early passing of John Smith, enters his new job with short-lived surety. And then he meets the COO, Clara Oswald, who's just as determined to show the Doctor who's really in charge as she is to show him he'll never live up to his predecessor. Unfortunately for them, control doesn't exist in matters of the heart.

This one contains heavy subjects, so if you aren’t comfortable with high rates of smut and unhealthy coping mechanism this story isn’t for you. This fic wasn’t an easy ride, but it was worth the effort.

Banged up ( rated M)

There were many things Clara Oswald expected when she entered prison. Catching the eye of the prison's most notorious inmate was not one of them.

I remember this fic being really, really sexy, but also sad and angsty af. It is also unfinished and you might want to avoid that level of masochism, but hey, where is the fun in that?

Paper machine (rated K+)

Clara Oswald's timeless relationship with the Doctor, as seen through the eyes of her smitten student.

This fic is so precious and adorable. I love it to pieces. It contains a bit of 11/clara too, like most of frombluetored fics.

E1evenc1ara

In another life (rated M)

A collection of AU one-shots featuring Clara and the the Doctor (Ten, Eleven, and/or Twelve). These are all written in response to prompts supplied by my tumblr users, which will be displayed at the top of each story.

Listen, the second story broke me in million little pieces. I’ll never over that pain. Totally worth it tho.

Again, If you dig Eleven/Clara, I would recomend you to check out The IT guy and its sequel Postcards from New York by the author.

Dreamcatcher (rated T)

This is supposed to be a doctor x clara but I couldn’t picture any other Doctor than Twelve. I’ll die on this hill.

Happy Endings (rated M)

The Doctor and Clara attend a Royal Wedding in the thirty-first century where they have a bit too much to drink.

They get drunk, they bang, the Doctor is a wrecked mess after, but everything turns all right. Pure bliss, my dudes.

D Veleniet

Hold onto me (rated K+)

Clara stood frozen, reeling from too many emotions to even name. All she could do was stare. "Doctor?" She approached him slowly, carefully. "What's happened to you?" She swallowed against the grief that threatened to cloud her voice. "Why are you acting like this?"

The author wrote this fic in 2013, before series 8 aired and reader, the way she was on absolute point with Twelve’s characterization. I mean, Twelve being a grumpy old Scottish lil shit pointing out Clara’s physical “flaws” to deflect from the fact that he’s absolutely in love with her check. Twelve being a huge ass softie for Clara check. My heart being compromised by their dynamic and how much they love each other CHECK (also I’m so greatful Twelve never called Clara “wee” in the show, I would have slapped him)

Untouchable (rated M)

Clara stopped missing the touches, stopped smarting from his flinches when they would accidentally brush up against each other or bump arms. She stopped wondering what had changed so much inside him that had made her physically repulsive to him now. Then one night she agreed to a set-up on a blind date.

This is a sexy sequel for Hold onto me in which everything hurts, but also everything is very hot. So yeah, yeah.

This author wrote, problably the most famous eleven/clara fic back in the day : The other has my heart and its sequel More than you know They were litsed in every fic rec and rightly so.

C1araoswa1d

The Tethers Between Hearts (rated k+)

On a quiet little planet, the Doctor shares something very important with Clara.

If I could cover myself with this achingly soft piece of writing, I would. Because I can’t, I do the second best thing which is rereading it over and over, until I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Waking Dreams (rated T)

(Doctor Who AU) Life is complicated enough for Clara after an accident puts her young daughter in a coma, but through her only means of communication with the girl - an in-dream interface system - she's meets an odd company representative who promises to help her along, quite possibly in more ways than she could ever imagine.

Welcome to Angstown, populatiom : THIS FIC

A Mirage in Time (rated M )

After Clara, the Doctor seeks out an Echo to help him move on… and finds himself just as perplexed by her and possibly just as in love.

I love C1araoswa1d’s writing so much, specially the way she depicts Clara. IDK man, part of my undying love for the character comes from the way she characterizes Clara in her stories. So yeah, please go and read all her fics. They are amazing, specialy How to fall in love with a time traveller and A path out of the dark

Bonus track, my dudes.

Anon, I know you asked me for my favorite ff.net whouffaldi fics, but I cannot left twelveclara out of this list. Her fics are iconic and you have probably read them, but fuck it.

History, like love

There are planets orbiting her eyes and her mouth tastes like the ocean; in her head she hears a shatter, like her soul has pried her ribs apart in a desperate, aching attempt to reach his. “If I could have picked anybody,” he murmurs, “it would have been you.”

My favorite soulmate au ever written in any fandom. periodt

But we’re so happy

from the outside looking in; so, maybe river’s right. people always stare at what they can’t touch.

punk rock au. Perfection in all its unfinished magnificence.

#whouffaldi #whouffle #souffez #fic rec

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

WARNINGS: Mentions of [lots of] blood, and Troy being homophobic

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Will, she believed his name was, had one scrawny arm draped loosely around Dustin, however, he had his full attention on a very cheery looking Y/n who stood proudly showing off a very small frog to the camera. They had daisies on their head, tangled in their hair, and a gleaming smile showed off a missing tooth. They were holding the frog so delicately.

"...was occupying a large part of Lebanon. Today, Syria has become a home for-"

Click.

El pressed another button.

The moving picture on the screen changed, where many bright flashes of color dance across the screen. A fake man with yellow hair held a sword as he exclaimed.

"I have the power!"

Click.

"...gift that will last forever. From the Harmony Treasures' collection-"

Click.

A beautiful melody came from the TV set and El's eyes widened in surprise.

Click.

"On the beach and in the sun"

El froze. She recognized the rolling tin can that appeared on the TV. Her breathing began to quicken as she fought the memories back.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

The all too familiar humming and beeping of the machines echoed off of the cold, isolating walls. Eleven sat at the same table, with the same camera facing the same window with the same adults who watch her and study her. Nothing was new, and she feared nothing ever would be. All she wants is to get this over with. Wanting to get these damn wires off of her head.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Coke is it! Coke is it!"

El quickly pushed the first button, shutting the TV off. Breathing heavily, she stood up and made her way to the basement.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"How about this one?" Mike asks, walking up to Dustin.

Dustin examines the rock Mike handed to him.

"Too big for the sling." He shrugs, tossing the rock to the grass. "So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like... like Green Lantern?"

"She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo." Lucas says as he searches for that.

"You don't know that," I mumble, Lucas, however, doesn't hear me.

"Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos." Mike adds.

Lucas turns to Mike, agitated. "If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?"

I roll my eyes, and straighten up, stretching out my back.

"What are you talking about?" Mike sighs.

"Mike, seriously?"

"What?"

'Wait...What?'

"What?" I asked, completely thrown off.

The boys freeze, Lucas especially. Lucas excluded, the boys all look at me with awkward smiles on their faces. Dustin chuckles and gives a still frozen Lucas a few pats on the arm.

"Good job, man. Real smooth."

"Guys, what is going on?" I asked exasperated, crossing my arms.

"Shit," Lucas whispers, closing his eyes.

"Lucas..."

Mike wears a triumphant grin on his face and looks expectantly at Lucas.

"Yeah, Lucas. Tell him."

Lucas sighs, and stiffly turns around, his change of attitude dramatic. He looks around once or twice before growing stern with me.

"You, and Will?" He suggests.

"What about us? What does that have to do with— Oh come on... You can't be serious. He does not like me."

"Literally everyone knows he is totally in love with you." He scoffs.

I scoff in return. "Love? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Am I wrong?" He turns to the boys, who hesitantly shrug.

He turns back to me, a look screaming 'There you have it.'

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

"W-What? W-what ar- No!" My words are caught in my throat and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

'No, I don't!'

It takes moments for me to recover. "Okay, let's say you're right. Let's say he does love me. How can you know for sure, huh? It's not like he told you!"

"Uhh, yeah! Might as well have. He didn't deny it!"

My heart stops, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

'Will? And me?'

"Look what we have here!"

'Oh, God. Not now.'

I roll my eyes and before I can stop myself I speak. "What do you want, Troll?"

My eyes widen at my sudden boldness but I remain confident. I stare down the two boys who have been bullying us for as long as we've attended this school.

"You better watch your mouth, freak-"

"Back off!" Dustin yells, cutting him off.

Troy looks over to Dustin, looking prepared to throw more insults at my brother but something changes his mind and he cools off. A smug smile tugs at his lips.

"Or what?" Troy spits.

Dustin falls silent, and Troy continues.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What are you losers doing back here anyway?"

"Probably looking for their missing friend." Troy's goon laughs.

Anger begins to take over and my blood starts to boil.

"That's not funny. It's serious. He's in danger." Dustin immediately cuts in.

"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead. That's what my dad says."

'Where's that damn rock?'

"He said he was probably killed by some other queer."

I feel a lurch in my chest, and I can practically feel my vision going red.

"Come on. Just ignore them." Mike soothes, not only to me but to Dustin and Lucas as well.

Dazed and confused, I push myself up enough to see a large, rather bloody rock just inches from my face.

I groan, rolling over on my back, I hear laughing and frantic footsteps.

"Y/n!" Dustin and Mike run over to me, Lucas storms up to Troy.

Dustin and Mike each grab an arm and help me sit up. I hesitantly bring a hand up to my chin and I hiss in pain. I look at my fingers and they are absolutely covered in blood.

'Holy crap.'

I groan and look to Lucas worried. He stands firm and tall, right up in Troy's face.

"Leave us. The fuck. Alone." He says through clenched teeth.

My eyes triple in size, surprised by Lucas's actions.

Troy and his friend laugh and walk away. Repeating Lucas in a mocking voice.

"You okay Y/n?" He reaches out his hand.

I gladly take it. However, I get a little lightheaded as I stand. "Shit, that's a lot of blood."

I look down and I see splots of blood already sprinkling my shirt.

'Great. This will be easy to explain to mom.'

"You still have that first aid kit?"

I close my eyes, sighing.

"Crap. No. I left it at Mike's."

"We better get you to the nurse's office then."

"No, I-I'm fine." I sigh, wincing at the pain.

"Are you sure? You're bleeding, like a lot." Mike says.

"Yeah, I'm good. As long as I stop the bleeding, I'll be fine... My body has always been able to heal quicker than most, anyways."

"They've got a point. I've seen it."

I offer a small smile. "Well, I at least better go get a tissue or something. I'll be right back." I say.

The boys nod, and I head off to the bathroom. My mind wanders back to what Lucas was telling me earlier, and the weird feeling in my stomach returns...

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #gn!reader #x gn!reader #stranger things x reader #holly jolly

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findingbxlance · 4 years

Text

I love The Sims.

Which is why I will never stop being disappointed in TS4.

Lets do some math, and I’m going to keep this mainly between TS3 & TS4. While I did play TS2, there isn’t a lot of information readily available on what the games themselves cost at the time of release. I have some information on that, but I’m not sure if it’s 100% accurate as I was baby when they came out and my mom had to buy them for me. I’ll release it later if anyone is curious.

TS3 launched with a base game priced at $49.99, and throughout it’s lifetime accrued nine stuff packs at $19.99 each, and eleven expansion packs priced at $39.99 a pop. This comes to a total of $669.79.

TS4 launched with a base game price of $59.99 (that price soon dropped to $49.99 because the backlash was immediate), and introduced the new game pack. In total (as of 4/15/2020), TS4 has sixteen stuff packs at $9.99 each, eight expansion packs at $39.99, and eight game packs at $19.99. That comes to a total of $699.67.

That’s not a huge price difference. All in all, it’s about $30 if you want to get the whole, complete collection, so why do I dislike TS4 so vehemently?

Quality.

Let’s compare a few expansion packs just to get a feel for what the difference is.

TS3 launched the “Late Night” expansion at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Bridgeport) with 82 lots

Fame & reputation systems

Bars & night clubs

Apartments with penthouse suites

Subways

Elevators

Breast & muscle sliders in CAS*

Zodiac signs

A fountain tool*

Height adjustment for wall objects

Groups & bands

Butlers

Vampires!

The mixology skill

2 new traits (shy & star quality)

TS4 launched the “Get Famous” expansion at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Del Sol Valley) with 11 lots

Fame & reputation systems

Active acting career

Multiple ways to become famous

Music, video station, etc.

And that’s about it.

Now I’ll be the first person to admit that TS3 wasn’t perfect. Although it was a very full game, it struggled in areas of performance. With such large, open worlds, and detailed customization systems, it was pretty buggy for a lot of people, but we’ll talk on that more later.

But what I want to focus on is the disparity between these two packs, as they’re supposed to be mirrors of one another. “Get Famous” is the TS4 version of “Late Night”, so where did all the stuff go?

Well, EA broke it into 3 packs.

To get the full experience of “Late Night” in TS4, or at least something similar, you would need to purchase, “Get Famous”, “City Living”, and “Vampires”. That’s 2 expansion packs, and 1 game pack. So, to replicate the experience of “Late Night” you would need to spend $99.97.

That’s almost $100.

So, for an experience we paid $39.99 previously in the last installment, we’re now being asked to pay $100 for.

Is that fair?

Lets do another expansion pack comparison:

TS3 launched “Ambitions” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Twinbrook) with 82 lots

5 new active jobs that take you all around the world your sims inhabit

Firefighter, investigator, ghost hunter, stylist, and architectural designer

Self-employment

Sculptors, inventors, painters, writers, gardeners, and so on can all profit from at home work

Laundry

Tattooing career

New traits (eco-friendly, good observer, weirdo, etc.)

Consignment stores

Inventing

Sculpting

TS4 launched “Get to Work” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Magnolia Promenade) with 4 lots

3 new active jobs that take place in one location

Detective, doctor, scientist

Baking & photography skills

Retail lots

Illnesses for sims

Aliens

There’s definitely more crossover here, but “Get to Work” still falls short. $39.99 for a full game and all we get is a world with 4 lots? Even in TS2 “Open for Business” we had more to do.

And, that isn’t to mention the fact that “Get to Work” launched separately from the TS4 “Laundry Day Stuff” pack. So, to get a similar experience to TS3′s “Ambitions” you would need to purchase both “Get to Work” and “Laundry Day Stuff” at a total of $49.98.

One more comparison for good measure.

TS3 launched “Island Paradise” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Isla Paradiso) with 118 lots, the most of ANY TS3 expansion

Houseboats that can move anywhere around the island

Resorts that you can either visit, or own, manage & edit

New transportation modes

Boating, skiing, and windsurfing

3 new careers

Lifeguard, resort manager, scuba diver

Diving into fully realized underwater scenes

Sims could also catch fish, explore underwater caves & find sunken treasure

Shark & kraken attacks

Mermaids!

Missions to discover and unlock new islands

Blueprint templates*

TS4 launched “Island Living” at $39.99, and it included:

A new world (Sulani) with 11 lots

Docks & new foundation types

4 new careers

Conservationist, diving, fishing, and lifeguard

Mermaids!

Boats

Missions to clean up the island

2 new traits

In the case of “Island Paradise” vs. “Island Living” there are a quite a few similarities, but the disparity remains. Thankfully, this time around EA didn’t break “Island Living” into multiple packs, but imagine if in a few months we get a resort style pack? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past EA.

In these pack comparisons, I hope I’ve highlighted some of the issues between what should have been pretty similar packs.

And, to clarify, I’m not saying that EA should have just copy pasted TS3 packs into the TS4 style, but for the amount of money they’re asking, the quality should remain the same. There should be a similar amount of features between each pack, but there isn’t.

With each expansion, it feels like EA is spending less and less time working on the unique gameplay features, and pouring more time into the general aesthetics of the packs. So, while TS4 is the prettiest of all The Sims titles, it’s also the emptiest.

Despite the shiny veneer of a good game with solid graphics, TS4 ultimately lacks depth. It doesn’t feel like a game, but rather a character creator. I spend more time building sims and their homes than I do actually playing out their lives.

All in all, I find that the “life simulation” part of TS4 is severely lacking. It mostly comes down to the little things, which is exemplified whenever I go back and replay TS2. Sims would cuddle their partner in their sleep, burglars were a real and present danger, raccoons would topple your trash can at any given chance, and friends would call all the time to ask if you wanted to go downtown.

It’s been 6 years since TS4 came out, and, from what the dev’s have said, they aren’t planning on pushing out TS5 anytime soon, but let’s dream a little bit about what could be.

In my perfect game, TS5 would include aspects of TS3 and TS2. The open worlds were great, but not many people’s computers were beefy enough to run them. The one thing I will applaud about TS4, is that its made with everyone in mind. We can’t all afford big, gaming computers, a lot of simmers play on their laptops, and we should all be able to play regardless of what type of machine we’re working with.

So, instead of fully open works with 90+ lots, I would like to see open neighborhoods. If we take the open concept of TS3, and combine it with the neighborhood style of TS4, we’d get an open world of about 15-20 lots. That’s nowhere near as big as TS3, but would allow for more fun neighbor interactions, and remove the constant load screens.

I’d also like to see a return of the color wheel. This is also a point of contention, where I understand that excessive customization really dragged down TS3 and made it unplayable for a lot of people. So instead of full customization, relegate it to just colors (instead of different materials like fabric, metal, wood, etc.,) and just CAS.

I think a lot of what gummed up TS4 was the fact that you could customize everything. Hair color, eye color, makeup, clothes, accessories, wallpaper, paint, tiles, flooring, chairs, sofas, decorations, and on and on. Restricting it just to CAS, and in a simple color wheel would give us so much more freedom.

A color wheel in CAS would also solve EA’s issue of diversity. While they’ve given us the ability to create trans and nonbinary sims (which is fantastic!), they’ve been really slow on any progress when it comes to skin tones. A color wheel would allow us to create sims of all colors, and give power to the players to create more realistic and diverse representations of their lives as sims.

The last thing I would really love to see is a return to the little details. Give us more randomness. Genies, walking skeletons, ruins we can explore that aren’t just rabbit holes, more active careers, more opportunities. Don’t be afraid to give us the weird things, we love the weird things! But don’t forget about the little things. Sims sitting in the grass together and chatting, sims leaving flowers at your door after a really great date, sims scooting together to cuddle while watching a movie together on the couch.

Overall, TS5 should just include more more, if that makes sense.

Leave your comments & thoughts below! I’d love to talk to ya’ll about this, its really been brewing for awhile.

*Features included in TS4 base game.

#the sims #ts4 #sims #sims 4 #simblr

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variousfics · 4 years

Text

Whirlwind(Bakugou x Trans! Reader)

Chapter 1

A/N: Chapter one of a hopefully long series! I know the quirk isn’t like. Unique but idc. Hope you enjoy anyway! I want to try a slow burn, but I’m not very good at those.

Words: 2,093

-----

(Name) had been preparing for the practical exams for a long time now. Ever since he decided to attend U.A. really, which had been when he was eleven. Having seen the number one hero in action, All Might, it sparked his interest in becoming a hero. Not that it wasn't what he wanted to do, but it gave him the extra push to really try and do his best to get into U.A., not only the school All Might went to but also the most prestigious hero academy in Japan.

The writing exam was a piece of cake, memorizing stuff wasn’t all that hard. And maybe it helped that his dad stayed up late with him, quizzing him on anything that could possibly be on the test. He was sure he was going to pass that part, no doubt. Now came the hard part. The practical exam. (Name) had no idea what it could possibly be, but he knew it had to do with the use of your quirk. (Name) was confident in his quirk. It was great for long ranged attacks, and even defense. Unfortunately, using his quirk for a long time got him winded and lose his breath. And the damn thing compressing (Name)’s chest didn’t exactly help with that. Well, a small price to pay he supposed. He definitely didn’t need dysphoria eating at him along with the anxiety of what the exam could be.

Speaking of, (Name) snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the big screen and at the Pro-Hero who was discussing what the exam was going to be. He tries to get the audience pumped, but to no avail. Though not that he could blame anyone, he was sure they were just as nervous as he was. With a small smile at another attempt to get everyone to shout, (Name) starts to pay attention. It was presented as a game as Preset Mic explained. Everyone was going to go through one of the made up cities and destroy these big mechanical machines, each one worth different points. He looked down at the pamphlet that was handed to him as he walked in, raising a brow as he spots four outlines of machines, as opposed to the three Present Mic was showing. (Name) was about to raise his hand to ask before someone beat him to it, turning back to look at him as he spoke. Wow, what an intense guy. (Name) tilted his head as he look farther back to see the green haired boy this glasses dude pointed out, smirking in amusement as he saw his face go red in embarrassment.

He spots the spiky blonde next to him, who did not look happy. Though, to be fair no one really look happy. But he looked angry. As (Name)’s turns back around he wonders if they could possibly be his classmates, wondering what their quirks could be. With a goodbye from the pro-hero Present Mic, everyone made their way outside to the buses that would take them to the testing site. Finding his bus he climbs in, noticing the spiky blonde sitting near the front, emitting an aura of ‘don’t sit with me’. Not wanting to get in a fight before the test, he sits a few seats behind him, leaning against the window as he think up of ways to destroy the machines. He just hoped he could get enough points before he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Now here he was, standing outside the huge doors that would soon open and the test would begin. He was both excited and incredibly nervous, heart hammering in his chest as he stood and looked up at the huge double doors with a number printed on it. As his anxiety rose up he felt the wind pick up around him, hair flying in the currents and small rocks and dust swirling around his feet. (Name) bit his lip, shutting his eyes closed and taking deep breaths in, hands curled into fists. After a few seconds the air flowing around him stops and he feels a bit calmer.

A loud buzz snaps (Name)’s out of his calm, and he’s being pushed in between people as everyone runs inside. With a huff he waits till everyone had passed him, crouching down then jumping up, using wind to propel him high and push him farther than the crowd, using the wind to safely fall and roll on the ground.

Looking to the left he spots a few mech’s on the street, noticing someone already running toward them. With a smirk (Name) starts running as well, using wind to propel him forward and glide over the ground. As he passes him (Name) throws his hand back, a gust of wind knocking the other off his feet. Once again jumping in the air, (Name) sticks out his tongue out as he concentrated the wind around his arm. It spun around his arm incredibly fast, becoming a visible spear. The mech looks up at (Name) as he falls toward it, arm outstretched forward. Before the mech can knock him out of the air the spair (air spear, duh) cuts into its face, effectively putting it out of commission. The force of the hit knocks it over, and now (Name) is falling with it.

“Ohshitohshitohsi-” He repeats under his breath leaping up and off the mech as it hits the ground, barely managing to catch himself before he hits the ground too hard. Small scrapes littered his arms but he paid no mind, hearing the sounds of the other two mechs coming up behind him. (Name) turns around with a sinister grin, wind kicking up around him as he looked up at them. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, “This is going to be fun.” He says, and runs towards the mechs before him with a shout.

Panting hard (Name) leans forward with his hands on his knees, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. Fifty nine points. Not too bad. At least, if he were keeping track correctly. But it wasn’t enough, he needed more. There had to be more right? He was sure that there was more, in fact, he knew it. (Name) could see a few more in the street ahead of him, and though he was tempted to stop now, a competitive fire burned in his chest as he spotted someone barreling toward them. Taking a deep breath he leaps up, flying and destroying the mech they were about to destroy before they got the chance.

“Hey! That was mine!” An angry voice shouted, and he looked down at the spiky blonde haired dude from before. (Name) shrugged, sticking his tongue out at him.

“You were too slow!” He says and move to hop onto the next one, hearing a ‘oh no you don’t’ before hearing an explosion go off and the blonde come barreling after him. With a large explosion the mech is destroyed, flaming as it falls to the ground. (Name) huffs and moves quickly to the last one, collecting a pulverizing air around his fist and watch with a wide snarky grin as the blonde also moves toward it, palm already bursting with tiny explosions.

They both hit it at the same time, his explosion and (Name)’s air making a huge clash and absolutely destroying the head of the mech. The heat from the explosion blew back in (Name)’s face, causing him to shut his eyes and cover his face with his arms as the blast blew him back. Feeling like he was falling fast he open his eyes, looking to the side to see the ash blonde cursing as he tried to use his quirk again. (Name) could tell he overused his quirk, his arms were shaking and only small explosions came from his hands. Definitely not enough to break his fall.

(Name) was already out of breath as it was, but taking a deep breath he extends his arms out, creating a small current of air under the both of them and they both slowly descended to the ground. (Name) laughed as they reached the ground, standing up with a grin. “Well, that was fun. Didn’t think that was going to happen.” He says and turn to look at the boy next to him, only to be greeted with an angry glare and shaky arms.

“What the fuck?! Those were my kills and you know it ass wipe!” He shouts at (Name), grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to glower in his face.

(Name) raises his hands with a shrug, a small smug smile stretching out over his lips. “Sorry Porcupine! I totally didn’t see you there! And I’m sure you have plenty of points already. I take it all those burning mechs were your doing.” He says and grab onto his wrist, pulling the blondes hand off his shirt. “And don’t pull on my shirt. You’ll ruin it.” With a small glare he crosses his arms.

The blonde, now dubbed as ‘Porcupine’ by (Name), fumed. He could practically see the steam leave his ears. “Porcupine?! What kind of dumbass name is that?! And like hell you didn’t! I saw you look at me asshole!” He shouts loudly, hands coming up, still shaky, small explosions going off in his hands.

With a shrug (Name) looked behind the now fuming blonde, spotting everyone start to leave. Most with a few scratches and stuff, but none seriously injured. “Sorry not sorry Porcupine. Anyway, looks like we should get going! Bye!” He says and uses the wind around him to lift himself a few inches off the ground, gliding across the ground pretty fast past the blonde and back out. He couldn’t see him, but he knew by the faint angry cursing that the blonde was definitely angry. With a chuckle (Name) drops back down on his feet, putting a hand to his chest and taking deep and slow breaths. The binder felt even more constricting as he tried to gain back all the air he lost. Climbing back into the bus (Name) plops down onto his seat, leaning back against it as he thinks about the practical exam. As nerve wracking it was, it was also incredibly fun. Being able to go all out like that. (Name) knew when the ash blonde entered, able to hear his grumbled curses. Closing his eyes he smiled, excited to get home and tell his dad all about today.

---

“I’m home old man!” (Name) shouted as he entered his house, sliding off his shoes by the door before slipping on the house slippers.

“Who you calling old?! I’m barely greying!” His father shouts as he enters the living room from the kitchen, a pink frilly apron on with pink oven mitts.

Spitting out a laugh (Name) tries to hold it back, not wanting to laugh himself into passing out. “W-what?? Why are you..wearing that?” He asks, voice coming out wheezy.

Rolling his eyes his dad crosses his arms, “WELL, I was making cookies to celebrate you not dying at the practical exams but now you’re not getting any.” He says with a pout, turning his head away with a huff.

(Name) gasps, laughter immediately stopping. Knowing his father he was making his favorite, (f/c). (Name) clasps his hands together, bowing slightly with a pleading expression. “I’m incredibly sorry dad! Please forgive me! You look manly in the pink apron. Very manly.” He says and looks up, seeing an amused expression on his dads face.

“Don’t grovel (Name), it doesn’t suit you. But fine. Go change, I know you must be struggling right now. It’s been a while.” He says, shooing his son away, “Go change before you hurt yourself.”

Nodding gratefully (Name) hurries upstairs, quick to take off his sweat soaked shirt and change into sweatpants. Peeling off the sweaty binder he uses his discarded shirt to wipe up the sweat. Feeling the familiar feelings of dysphoria creep up on him, he pulls on a baggy sweater, not bothering to put on a shirt under. (Name) takes a deep breath, repeating ‘i’m fine’ over and over in his head until he’s calm.

Walking back down his dad greets him with a plate of cookies and a quick side hug. “Now, tell me all about what happened right now. Hurry, hurry!” His dad rushed (Name) to sit on the couch, plate of cookies in (Name)’s lap as he tells him everything that happened.

#x reader #x trans! reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x male! reader #fanfic #bakugou x trans! reader #bakugou x male! trans! reader #the fact that the reader is trans is NOT #going to be a big thing #or the main focus #only till the later chapters should #it really come into play #bnha #mha

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