#needless to say my vision is NOT better than 20/20 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bangtanloverboys · 3 years

Text

indented fingertips // myg

summary: you don't know much about your roommate, min yoongi. until one day you come home to see him strumming away at a guitar, maybe he could give you a lesson?

pairing - rooommate!min yoongi x female!reader

genre - fluff; roommate au

word count - 2.2k

warning - nothing

author’s note - this is fic is dedicated to the lovely @cinnaminsvga for the @btsghostiewritersnet holiday fic exchange! this was a bit of a challenge as i have absolutely no idea how to play the guitar thus i don’t know proper instructions but! i gave it my best shot and i hope you enjoy it!!

“Yoongi, I’m back!” You announced as you shut the door to your apartment. As you were pulling off your muddy shoes, you could hear the pitter-patter of rain against the windows accompanied by light strumming of a guitar. “Yoongi?” You called out as you made your way towards the music. You followed it until you were standing in front of the door of Yoongi’s room, the door cracked open a bit ever so slightly.

Peaking in, there your roommate sat on his bed, his back facing you, strumming away on a black guitar. Needless to say, you were a bit surprised. You didn’t know he could play! Then again, you didn’t know a lot about him since he moved in a few months back. Your mutual friend Seokjin introduced you to each other after you said you needed a roommate, and Yoongi to his word was the perfect roommate. He generally liked to keep to himself, which was nice considering you liked the quiet. But at the same time, you felt like you were living with a stranger.

You watched in silence as he continued to strum at his guitar. Listening closely, you realized that you didn’t recognize it. Did he write his own music? What else wasn’t he telling you? You swung your head side to side as he continued to play, only freezing when he stopped playing. He repositioned his hands on the neck of the guitar before strumming again, letting out a couple small hums as he tried to get the note just right. He must be composing, you thought to yourself.

You wanted to step in and talk to him about it, maybe learn a little more about him. But there was something itching you at the back of your mind, something Seokjin told you when Yoongi decided to move in, and that was not to disturb him while sleeping or working. You assumed working meant like work related stuff, this is what he must have meant. Biting your cheek, you silently began to tiptoe to your room. You wonder why he’s never told you, but then again, he doesn’t tell you much about himself. All you pretty much knew about him was he worked in accounting, is really cute, and apparently plays the guitar.

As you shed your day clothes and change into some sweats, you can still hear him faintly playing though the wall. It brings a smile to your face, learning something new about your roommate. Once dressed, you made your way out to the living room and turned on the television. The faint sound of Yoongi playing ceased as you started to scroll through the service, looking for something to watch. As you clicked on an old comedy special, you heard footsteps come down the hall.

“Hey Yoon,” you said nonchalantly as he appeared in your vision.

“H-hey, when did you get home?” He asked, scratching the back of his head.

“Few minutes ago,” you shrugged as the comedian was announced and walked on stage, “Just started this. Wanna join?”

“I’m good. . .” he responded as his hand dropped to his side, “Did you-” A loud clap of thunder interrupted him, the lights and the television going dark.

“Ah shit,” you groaned. Looking at Yoongi, who looked mildly relieved yet at the same time annoyed at the inconvenience of the powering going out. “How long do you think the power is gonna be out?”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Couple hours maybe?” He sighed as he looked around. “Do we have any candles or anything?”

“Uh, should have a few in my room, hang on.” You pushed yourself off the sofa and trudged your room, pulling off the candles from your desk. As you made your way back to the living room, Yoongi seemed to have pulled out other candles from their long forgotten hiding spots, lighting them and placing them sporadically around the room. He handed you the lighter as you walked over to him, lighting the candles as you placed them down on the table.

The room was filled with conflicted scents of different types of fruits and woods; a strange combination, but not all too bad as both you and Yoongi sat down on the couch. The continuous sound of rain was the only noise as the two of you sat in silence, unsure of what to do next.

“So. . .” You started, “Any ideas to pass the time?”

“I uh, I don’t know.” He mumbled, as his gaze fell down to his hands, picking at his nails.

“How about 20 questions?” You proposed, a way to pass the time and might as well use it as an excuse to get to know your roommate a little more. He gave a meek shrug, signalling to you that it wasn’t a no. Turning in your seat to face him, you clasped your hands together, “Okay. What’s your favorite type of cake?”

He looked at you with a confused look on his face before responding with, “Chocolate?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I don’t know, I’m not really picky when it comes to cake.” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in confusion.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to press, I guess.” You murmured, “It’s your turn.”

Letting out a huff, Yoongi turned in his seat to face you. His tongue in cheek as he thought of a question to ask. “Uh, what’s your favorite. . .book?”

“It’s Frankestien.” You answered. You caught an interested glimmer in his eye, so you continued to talk about it. “I like the classic monster stories, plus Mary Shelly was pretty cool too.”

“Wow, I-I didn’t know that. I’ll make a note of that for your birthday.” He chuckled; you felt your heart flutter at the sound of his laugh.

“I- yeah, uh,” you scratched your head, trying to distract yourself from the sound of his obnoxiously cute chuckle. The only thing popping into your mind was the image of him playing the guitar, maybe now was a good time to ask him about it? “Do you- do you play any instruments?”

“I uh,” his gaze fell down to the floor. “Yeah. . . Guitar. . .”

“Oh was that you playing earlier?” You feigned surprise. “I heard a little bit, you’re really good!”

A shy smile pulled at Yoongi’s lips, “Yeah, but I’m not that good. I’ve only been playing a few months.” His eyes avoided yours, staring at the lit candle.

“No no no, don’t talk yourself down!” You pouted, shoving his shoulder a bit. “From what I heard, you’re really good.”

“You’re just saying that,” he waved you off. “Anyways. . .what about you? Do you play anything?” He asked, diverting the conversation onto you.

“No, I don’t.” You answered, but then it hit you, a brilliant idea. “Maybe you can teach me!”

“Teach you?!” Yoongi was baffled at your statement. “No, I could never, I’m-I’m not that good of a teacher.” He shied away from you once again.

“Come on, Yoongi.” You pursed your lip out in a pout, “Please! What else are we gonna do until the power comes on?!”

“Fine, I guess,” he muttered as pushed himself off the couch to go grab his guitar. You let out a small cheer as he reappeared with the instrument at hand. “I only know how to play Highway to Hell, Brown Eyed Girl, and an IU song. Which do you wanna learn?”

“Could I learn the one you were playing earlier?”

Yoongi’s cheeks reddened at your question, “That-that’s uh, that’s an unfinished song. . .”

“Teach it to me? Please?” You pleaded, clasping your hands together in an effort to make yourself look more convincing. “Just the chorus?”

“Mmm, fine.” He exhaled as he positioned the guitar in his arms. “First, the basic chords are E,” he positioned his fingers on the neck then he strummed. “A.” He moved his fingers again then strummed the note. He proceeded to show you the rest of the basic notes, making sure you pay extra close attention to the placement of his fingers. Once the basic introduction was over, he began to demonstrate his song’s chorus. “It goes, two strums of D,” he strummed, “two strums of C,” he strummed again, “and four strums of G.” He strummed again.

“Alright, seems easy enough.” You were impressed, it sounded pretty good. Okay more than pretty good, it was great! Yoongi was really talented, if he ever decided to put his music out no doubt you were gonna be the first to download it. “Let me try now.”

Yoongi handed the guitar to you and you mimicked the way you saw him hold the instrument, there was a twinge in his eyes as he saw you hold it, but he didn’t say anything. “Okay, fingers to the D chord position.” He instructed, you placed your fingers on the neck, your fingers looking close to how Yoongi positioned his. You looked to him, silently asking if the placement was correct; he nodded, giving you a tight smile. “Good, now two strums.” You did as you were told, it didn’t sound quite the same as how Yoongi did. From the look on Yoongi’s face, he noticed it too, yet he didn’t say anything again. “That was good. . . now two strums of C.” You repositioned your fingers again and yet again it didn’t sound the same.

“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” You questioned.

“Yeah, you’re doing fine.” He assured you, but there was that same twinge in his eyes. He knew it wasn’t right, why wasn’t he correcting you? “Now four strums of G.”

Deciding to test his honesty, you placed your fingers in a position that definitely wasn’t the G chord and strummed 4 times. You watched as Yoongi visibly flinched at the sound, yet remained smiling at you. “How was that?”

“Great, you did. . . awesome.” He said as he gave you a thumbs up.

“Yoongii,” you whined. “You know that wasn’t right! How am I supposed to learn if you don’t help me properly.”

“I just, uh, fine.” He scooted closer to you, taking your fingers in his hands and repositioning your fingers on the neck. “That’s the D chord, strum.” You did so and it sounded a lot better than your first shot. He repositioned your fingers again, “C chord.” You strummed twice more, you watched as Yoongi’s lips pulled into a smile. “Good, good. Okay and this is the G chord.” He moved your fingers once more and let you play the chord and it sounded almost like how he did it! “Great! Now do it all together slowly.”

Carefully examining your positioning again, you began again. Despite the long pauses between the notes as you tried to place your fingers in the correct places again, it sounded pretty good! Not as good as Yoongi’s playing, but it was still good! “I did it!”

“Think you can speed it up a bit?” He asked, his smile growing wider.

“Let’s give it a shot,” you straightened your shoulders as you moved your fingers back to the D chord. But apparently it wasn’t quite right as Yoongi stopped your hand before you moved to play.

“Sorry, just, your finger should be right,.” He with his thumb and pointer finger, he lightly pushed your finger a bit to the side, “here.” He pulled away with a grin on his face. “Now play.”

And so you did. With Yoongi’s help, you managed to play the chorus of his song pretty okay. After a while though, your fingers began to ache so you decided to stop, handing the guitar back over to Yoongi. You thought he was going to take it back to his room, but instead he started playing a melody that you barely recognized. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, you watched Yoongi play; the light of the candles illuminating the outline of his face. Neither of you said anything, the only noise that was heard was the sound of the rain, the crinkling of candles, and the sound of Yoongi’s guitar.

As he played on, you felt yourself grow more relaxed. You slowly started to shut your eyes, but as you did, the lights blinked back on. Yoongi ceased his playing as the TV blared to life again, the comedy special overpowering the sound of his music anyways. Sitting up, you grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “Thank you, for teaching me. And-and playing in general, you’re really good.”

He slipped the guitar from his lap, leaning it against the couch. “I’m still just trying to learn and work on the song, it’s nowhere near finished-”

“Yoongi,” you placed your hand on his shoulder, “it’s gonna be great. I know it.”

He relaxed under your touch and smiled at you, his cheeks flushing. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“It’s no problem,” you returned the smile. Feeling a little bold, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks again for the lesson.” Yoongi tensed up at the affection as you leaned back. “Maybe I can teach you something in return, like bracelet making. I don’t know.” You laughed, maybe it wasn’t an equal type of lesson as a guitar one but it was the only thing you could remember from sleep away camp.

“Yeah-” His voice came out in a squeak, clearing his throat before he spoke again, “Yeah, that. . . sounds good!” He spoke as he rose to stand. “I’m uh, I’m gonna go put this away now.” With that, he picked up his guitar and scurried away towards his room.

You chuckled as he left, heart feeling full after having a small bonding session with him. You were happy that you finally got to know Yoongi a bit more, with any luck you’ll get even closer.

#btsghostie #bgwficexchange #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fluff #bts fluff #bts #min yoongi #suga

171 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 3 years

Note

💘💘💘💘 + ghasdug

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

So Skug says they stowed away on the same ship, but this is...not exactly true.

He stowed away on that ship, because he was running away from home and he was a snobby little lordling who'd never had to fend for himself a day in his life, so the furthest ahead he'd actually thought to plan was "they won't want to turn around and drop me off once they're underway".

Ghastly was not stowed away at any point during that trip. Ghastly was signed on for the journey as a deckhand, because Ghastly's mother told him he needed to, and it had to be that particular ship. Ghastly gets seasick, and did not want to go to sea in the slightest. But Ghastly's mother has visions and so Ghastly does as he is told. Apparently there was something important waiting for him on that ship.

Anyway Skug pops out once he thinks they're far enough away from shore that they'll leave him be rather than take him back to port, and he is incredibly mistaken. The captain is in favour of turning him around right there and then, because he's clearly some rich lord's brat, and whoever his father is will probably pay handsomely for his safe return. Ghastly manages to talk the ship's crew into letting him stay on, provided he pulls his weight like the rest of them.

Needless to say, even before they're attacked by pirates, that voyage is a rude awakening for poor Skug, and good lord does Ghastly hear all about it. He has blisters. His feet hurt. This shirt was expensive and now it's all sweaty. His hair is in his eyes all the time. He's tired. The guy in the next bunk snores. Some of these people look like they have lice. He didn't realise he'd be doing manual labour, this is servant stuff, how dare they.

Ghastly does. Not realise at that point what he has let himself in for.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Poor Ghastly gets to pine for years. Baby Skug isn't a great boyfriend. He's less invested - he loves Ghastly, but they have two totally different outlooks.

Ghastly is ugly. He's always been ugly. He's got a face he believes only his mother could love. He's never believed he'd find someone who saw past that or loved him regardless. So as soon as he gets Skug into bed, he's over the moon and ready to commit. He's like 17, and would absolutely settle down there and then given half a chance.

Skug, on the other hand, was a weird-looking child who only recently grew into an attractive adolescent and he is loving it. For the first time in his life, girls are noticing him. He doesn't want to settle down, he wants to play the field and sow some wild oats and have fun. So there are periods of exclusivity with Ghastly, interspersed with periods where Skug basically drops him to chase after the latest pretty bit of skirt.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Ghastly's smitten by the time they make it back to Ireland - Skug is a bit soft and allergic to hard work and a pain in the arse, but he's flashy and charismatic and funny and pays attention to him without gawking at his face (past the initial "good god, what happened to you?") - but Skug is well and truly settled into living with Ghastly's family by the time he actually gives Ghas the come-on.

where their first date was and what it was like

They went to the local tavern and got drunk, and then rode home in the pouring rain once it kicked them out at closing time.

When they got home, Ghastly's parents had long since gone to bed, but that wasn't necessarily unusual - once Skug, who has a considerable allowance, is old enough to start drinking, Saoirse institutes a rule that if they're not home by the time she and her husband turn in for the night, she'll leave blankets in the barn and they can sleep there instead. She's not having them barging in, wasted, at all hours of the day and night, waking her up after a hard day's work.

So they put the horses away and give them a quick rub down, and Ghastly is trying to look anywhere but Skug because Skug's shirt has gone kind of see-through and poor Ghastly is an awkward, horny teenage boy, but he keeps shooting him these furtive glances over the horse's back and Skug notices because Skug notices everything and lowkey teases him about it. "Want me to sit for a portrait? It'll last longer," sort of teasing, and Ghastly tries to laugh along but he's also vibrant red because he's been caught staring, so obviously Skug realises something's up

And he's precisely as tactful about it as he ever is about anything, and jokes, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me," and Ghastly's ears burn and he doesn't deny it quick enough and now Skug's eyebrows are inching towards his hairline and Ghastly panics because like, he's ugly, Skug is going to be disgusted or laugh at him and he can't cope with either, so he just? Freezes?

But like. Skug was a weird-looking, unfortunate child who very recently grew into an attractive adolescent, so he fucking thrives on attention. So his response to this awkward not-quite-a-confession is actually a moment of silence while he mulls this new information over (this feels like an eternity to poor Ghastly) followed by an early attempt at using The Hot Voice and, "If you want me, have me."

So, they end up having sex in the hayloft on the blankets Ghastly's mom left out for them. Ghastly has never even been kissed and doesn't admit that he has no idea what he's doing until he realises Skug is expecting him to take the lead. He also blurts that he loves Skug when he nuts, so like. It's your typical painfully embarrassing virginity loss.

It can't be all bad though, because Skug's up for doing it again.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

So in my endgame-ghasdug AU, they get back together post-TDOTL. Ghastly survives being stabbed, but the blade nicked his spinal cord, so he's in a wheelchair for quite a while, and then has to do A Lot of physical therapy to relearn how to walk. Skug shows up at the hospital/facility where he's recovering every day unless there's an emergency, because Ghastly is very depressed and struggling with survivor's guilt over Anton and doesn't see the point in doing his physio because it hurts and he's exhausted and he shouldn't be alive anyway. And Skug annoys him into doing it, mostly by heckling him from the other side of the room, because he's not great at the whole emotional support thing. Ghastly will mutter, "Christ, I want to hit you," and Skug will tell him, "Well, if you come over here to do it I won't even duck." And if Ghastly gets his ass up and uses the walking frame support thing to cross the room, well, then Skug will take a punch like a man and be happy about it because Ghastly walked.

They also talk a lot during this period. Ghastly feels like shit, and he reminisces a lot about the good old days and how he never saw Ravel's betrayal coming and memories he has of Anton, and sometimes that veers into memories they share from when they were young men. And Skug, at this point, is old enough and has been through enough to admit that he wasn't great to Ghastly when they were boys. He was flighty and selfish and high-maintenance, and he would've hated to be treated the way he treated Ghastly. And he tells him that, at one point - that he's sorry, and if he could go back and do it differently, he would, assuming Ghastly was daft enough to be willing to put up with him a second time.

And Ghastly laughs and tells him, "I'd still have you now, you stupid bastard."

who proposes first

Ghastly. They're 19/20. Skug thinks he's joking.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Neither - they don't announce it, but it's not exactly a secret either. Ghastly's parents notice pretty much straight away, but other than a few parental pointers on what is and isn't appropriate, it's not really a topic of conversation.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Skug's sister Confelicity accepts the first proposal she gets at the age of 16, because she's desperate to get out of their parents' house and away from their toxic relationship and controlling behaviour. Their father disapproves and refuses to attend the wedding (and, of course, their mother is not allowed her own opinion), and Carver is out of the country, so Skug stands in to a) pay and b) give away the bride. He takes Ghastly for moral support, because he doesn't like most of his relatives and also doesn't like the groom (Thurid Guild - their relationship doesn't improve when Confelicity divorces him a few years later to marry a baronet). While they're watching the couple say their vows, Ghastly murmurs, "We should get married."

Skug is right in the middle of his hoe phase and does not realise Ghastly's serious.

who’s more dominant

Generally, Skug. He is one hell of a force of personality and Ghastly does get steamrollered quite a bit, although he does eventually learn how to say no. Skug always gets things his way, always does whatever he likes and be damned to the consequences, and Ghastly is always there with a handful of the back of his shirt, pulling his ass out of whatever fire he started.

In bed, though, it's Ghastly.

how into pda they are

As teenagers, Ghastly's mother has to reprimand them occasionally for being too all over each other, but teenagers be rabidly horny. As grown men, they're just sort of casually affectionate. Comfortable with each other. When they're relaxing in camp after a day of travelling, Skug will lean against Ghastly to read a book or put his head on Ghastly's leg while they chat. They can have a silent conversation just by reading each other's faces. They'll nudge each other when something reminds them of an in-joke. They have that easy intimacy that comes with having known each other forever.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

As boys, Ghastly has a particular flowery meadow he likes to take Skug to for picnics, because he's a romantic. Skug at that age is considerably less so, and more interested in whether they can screw there without getting caught.

In the modern day, they go to see old movies. Ghastly was very into the early films of the late 1910s and the 1920s, after the war finished. He associates them with a time where he finally got to just set up his shop and live the life he always wanted to live. Skug hasn't seen most of Ghastly's favourites, because he spent that period of history fighting the truce and then spiralling into a black hole of trauma and misery, but he got very into the noir detective era to the point that he's still clinging to the aesthetic like 80 years later, so they'll alternate who picks the movies and catch each other up on their favourites.

who’s more protective

They've both spent their fair share of time fretting in the chair beside a hospital bed. After Ravel's betrayal, though, it's Skug. Ghastly retires as soon as he's considered fit to make the decision, and decides he wants to go back to Dublin to reopen his shop and just sort of try and forget Roarhaven exists. And Skug is absolutely adamant that he gets to do it. There's a lot of interest in Ghastly for a while - groundbreaking healing magic was used to fix what should've been a permanent injury, people want to know if he suspected Ravel, they want his advice on how to rebuild after Devastation Day. He's more approachable than China, and a lot more popular. But he can't cope with it all, and anyone who tries to hassle him in Dublin will have Skug to deal with.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

The first night Skug stays at Ghastly's family home. Ghastly is an only child, and his family isn't wealthy - their house doesn't have a guest room. It's sleep with Ghastly or sleep on the floor, and Little Lord Priss isn't going to be sleeping on the floor.

Honestly, he's relieved there isn't a spare room for him. He's never really slept alone before. Like most children of very wealthy families back then, he grew up in a nursery with his four oldest brothers and sisters, and when he was too old to live with The Children, he shared a room, first with Carver and then with Francis. The thought of being on his own in a strange house is pretty intimidating.

He moves to his own bed as soon as they get him one, but he stays in Ghastly's room, and he's perfectly happy with that.

(Ghastly is less happy. He's very much crushing on Skug and he's terrified he'll say something incriminating in his sleep.)

who steals whose clothes and how often

Skug gets to steal Ghastly's clothes for a year or two after he moves in with Ghastly's family. After that, they're built too differently. Ghastly is built like a brick shithouse of muscle. Skug is lean and toned and tall. When they're younger, he can more or less wear Ghastly's clothes as a nightshirt, but after Skug's final growth spurt, Ghastly's clothes don't sit right on him at all, and he's gotten too vain and fashion-conscious by that point to just wear them anyway.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Ghastly is fussy about his tea. Plenty of milk, two and a half sugars, leave the teabag in.

Skug just inhales it black, which Ghastly thinks is an abomination.

if they ever have any children together

Ghastly thanks his lucky stars every day that they have a 0% chance of accidentally spawning a skuglet. One of him is plenty.

He's very involved with Skugbab when he comes along, though. He's godfather and a very present uncle.

if they have any special pet names for each other

Skug doesn't do nicknames, and would rather not be given them, either. Ghastly gets away with "Skul", primarily because he's the only one who's known Skug since he was all of 16, but also because "Skulduggery" is a mouthful when all your blood is rushing to your downstairs brain and it's his own damn fault that he didn't think of that before he picked it.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

So many times. They're on and off again more frequently than Saracen's clothes. Every time Skug spots someone new, he ends it with Ghastly to pursue them, and then comes back when he loses interest or it doesn't work out.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

Ghastly's family home is an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Dublin. It's simple, but cosy, and Ghastly's dad is incredibly houseproud, so it's very well-looked-after. Skug prefers it by miles to his own palacial, but cold and unwelcoming, family home, and he tries to replicate the vibe later on with Wifey. It's pretty small compared to what he's used to, so it sort of feels like they're all living on top of each other, and he has to get used to not having any servants and drawing his own water to heat his own bath etc, but he's loved there, and that makes all the difference.

what their names are in each other’s phones

They're both old-ass men about some things, and this is one of them. So no emojis or anything - they're "Ghastly Bespoke" and "Skul". How romantic.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Ghastly wakes up first: he's used to rising early to get started on his chores. Skug is absolutely not a morning person at this point in his life and Ghastly frequently has to turf his ass out of bed by pulling his quilt off/dumping water on him/yelling in his ear.

Reversed with modern day ghasdug: Ghastly still wakes at a sensible time, but damn it he left the army a century ago and now he likes a lie in. Skug never really stopped being a soldier and still has most of his military habits, so he's up with the sun.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Ghastly is the big spoon. Skug likes to be Held.

who hogs the bathroom

Skug. The boy is vain as all fuck. There is a grand total of one cloudy looking-glass in Ghastly's family's home and Skug spends a good chunk of the morning hogging it to fuss with his hair and peacock at his reflection. Ghastly is under strict orders Never to mention this to Fletcher.

#skulduggery pleasant #ghasdug #sp headcanons #long post

12 notes · View notes

pixxiesdust · 4 years

Text

Better Late Than Never • Midoriya Izuku

Summary • As a hero at Deku Agency, it’s normal for you to train with him. However, you did not expect this to happen.

Pairing • Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Word Count • 3.9k

Tags and Warnings • Characters are Pro Heroes, mid to late 20s, three sentences of slight angst, fluff, kissing.

Note • This is for @bnhabookclub’s Hero Camp Bingo and Celebrating Deku event! The prompt is almost kiss and “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” A huge thank you to the lovely @freckledoriya and @etegomanere for betaing, and to @prismaroyal for helping me with the ending!

–

“Again,” you pant, pushing yourself back onto your feet. You run the back of your arm across your forehead, the skin warm from exertion.

“A-are you sure?” Midoriya asks. He’s breathing heavily too, and he lifts up the hem of his black workout tee to wipe at his face, but he doesn’t look as beat up as you are.

He is the number one hero after all, and it’s hard for you to get as many hits in as he lands on you.

You roll your shoulders, trying to ease the ache that has been building there, and arch your back to stretch out the muscles. Your loose top rises up a bit, and Midoriya’s eyes are drawn to the sliver of skin that peeks through before your shirt falls back down to cover it.

“I’m sure, Deku. No pain, no gain, right?” One of your eyes closes in a quick wink, reassuring him that you are able to continue training.

“Alright, then. Ready?”

You raise your fists up and start bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Bring it on!”

“Go!”

Midoriya charges toward you, and you run toward him, feet slapping onto the training mat with every step. He swings his arm forward, fist aiming for your stomach, but you see it coming and leap to the right. When his arm stretches past you, you grab onto it and pull him in the direction he’s traveling. You give his back an extra shove, and he stumbles a step, but he’s quick to regain his balance and whirls around to face you.

You’re already stretching out your leg in mid-kick, and Midoriya’s eyes widen at the speed of it. His reflexes are faster, though, and he ducks under it, sweeping his own leg out towards the one you’re standing on.

He knocks it out from under you. You lose your balance, and even though Midoriya knows you are a capable hero, his heart pounds just a little too quickly, and his movements falter as you fall toward the training mat. You hit the mat and roll, coming back up in one smooth motion. There’s no time for Midoriya to attack, especially since he wasted those few seconds in needless worry.

You take advantage of his hesitation, although you don’t know why he suddenly froze up, and you start a relentless attack. You swing your fists, one after the other, alternating with kicks that force Midoriya back step by step when they land.

A grin stretches across your face. “Looks like I’m winning this one, huh?” you say between swings.

But as you kick out again toward his chest, his large hands wrap around your ankle.

You freeze.

Midoriya looks at you. A satisfied smirk curls his lips up, and there’s no trace of shyness as he says, “Don’t get too cocky. This isn’t over yet.”

Your eyes widen as his hands tighten around your ankle, and you know what’s coming next. The muscles in his arms flex and strain as he heaves, pulling your leg over his shoulder, drawing your body toward his.

You know he’s going to toss you across the training mat as he’s done multiple times in the past, and you brace yourself for the landing–

But your other leg knocks against the side of his head, hard, causing Midoriya’s ears to start to ring, and he loses his balance.

He drops to the floor.

You drop with him.

Your eyes instinctively shut as the impact knocks the breath from your lungs, and your head bounces off the mat. It takes a long moment for the ringing in your ears to clear. You slowly open your eyes, blinking hard to clear your vision.

You see emeralds.

Midoriya’s eyes are wide, showing most of his vibrant green irises. He’s stiff and still above you, muscles frozen as he covers your body.

Before you can fully register the warmth of his exhales brushing across your lips, Midoriya scrambles off you, rolling his body to the side before sitting up. His cheeks are dusted pink, and his eyes are still wide. He’s shaking as he bows to you multiple times, apologies spilling out of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean– Was I too close? Are you– I didn’t want it to be like this– I have to go, I’m sorry, I’ll see you later–” And he tears away from you, legs covering the distance from the training mat to the gym door in seconds.

The door slams shut behind him.

You blink.

“W-well,” you say shakily to yourself, “that couldn’t have gone any worse.”

You bring a hand up to your parted lips, feeling the lingering warmth from the closeness of Midoriya’s own. And though your chest is tight as you remember the way he apologized and quickly retreated, your heart pounds rapidly at the thought of nearly kissing him.

If that was the closest you’d ever get with your long time crush, you’d treasure it forever.

–

Over the next few days, you only see glimpses of green in the agency. As soon as you catch sight of a head of vibrant hair, Midoriya disappears around the corner, or slips out of the room, or leaps out an open window.

And you’re getting sick of it.

So when you hear from a passing sidekick that Midoriya is busy on an important phone call, you march into the elevator and aggressively press the button for the top floor of the agency. You’re buzzing with anger and frustration, and when the elevator doors slide open, you ignore the secretary’s protests and march toward Midoriya’s office.

“He’s on a business call, I don’t think–” the secretary tries to say, but you cut her off.

“I won’t say a word until he finishes his call. But I’m waiting in there.”

You twist the handle and push the door open, slipping in quietly. You shut the door behind you with a soft click. Midoriya sits in his office chair, but he faces the floor-to-ceiling windows, displaying the city sprawled far below. Other skyscrapers stretch for the sky, but Deku Agency towers above them all.

You pad across the room with light steps, and ease yourself into the seat on the other side of his desk. Crossing your arms across your chest, your foot taps against the floor as you wait.

Midoriya continues to talk on the phone. His voice is low and soft, yet is firm—a huge contrast to what he sounded like back in U.A.

You listen to him as he talks. You catch words like “agency” and “teamwork,” but you’re more focused on just letting his voice wash over you. It’s rather calming and soothes your anger, leaving behind sadness, frustration, and an ache in your chest that you rub at absentmindedly.

You bring your legs up in the chair, curling them under you so you’re more comfortable. In most cases, this would be considered unprofessional, but you were friends before he became your boss.

Friends.

A yawn causes your mouth to drop open, and you stretch your arms up, before settling back into the seat. Midoriya’s voice continues in the background, and lulls you into a drowsy state. You battle the weight of your eyelids, but you give up, and they slide closed.

As you slip into sleep, one last thought passes through your mind.

You want to be more than friends.

–

You’re brought out of your nap as something warm settles down on your shoulders and drapes over your body. You crack open your eyes just the slightest bit and see the green of Midoriya’s hero outfit.

The weight is from one of his jackets, and he proceeds to tuck the edges around you with gentle hands and a soft look in his eyes. He straightens up and pulls his hands away, letting out a quiet sigh as he turns his back to you and moves around to sit back in his desk chair.

You watch him as he works, filling out papers on his desk, or typing into his computer. Your eyes stray from his face to his shoulders and chest, his hero costume clinging tightly to his well-muscled form. Your gaze moves back up to his eyes, taking in the green that sparkles with concentration and determination.

It’s silent in the office. But although it’s quiet, you find it peaceful and comforting to just be near him.

Your chest is warm.

You love him.

And because you love him, you need to talk to him about the not-quite kiss from training a few days ago. The conversation will completely change your friendship—and if you’re being realistic, not for the better. You try to think of the right way to say what you’re thinking, but your lips part and words tumble out of your mouth, breaking the silence.

“Is nearly kissing me so bad that you’d avoid me for it?”

Midoriya drops his pen and shoots out of his seat, eyes snapping up to lock onto yours. “I- I thought you were asleep!”

Your eyes crinkle as you give him a small, bittersweet smile. “It’s so bad that you don’t even want to talk about it?”

He sputters and stammers, and you can see him trying to think of the right words to say.

“It’s okay, Midoriya. It’s fine if you don’t return my feelings for you. But I don’t want you to ignore me because of it, or run away from me like I have the plague, because that hurts. I’ll gladly stay by your side, even as friends.”

Midoriya’s eyes widen in surprise. “Your feelings? For- for me?”

Your own eyes grow wide, but with horror. “You didn’t know? I thought- I thought you figured it out after we almost kissed, and that’s why you ran away and started avoiding me. Oh gosh, I just confessed to you.” You let out a groan and bury your head in your hands.

“Please forget what I just said,” you say, though your words are slightly muffled from your position. “It doesn’t have to be awkward, we can still be friends.”

A warm hand lands on your knee, startling you enough that you jerk your head up. Midoriya, the number one hero, kneels before you. There’s a strange expression on his face. It’s something you’ve never seen before, but it makes your skin tingle and your stomach flip.

“No,” he says softly.

Your stomach stops flipping, and you feel heavy with disappointment and despair. You blink, holding back the tears that start to prick your eyes. “N-no, we can’t be friends?”

“No!” Midoriya exclaims. “I meant that no, I won’t forget what you just said.”

He pauses to take up your hands in his own, the scars on his knuckles and on his palms a bit rough, but he holds you with care before continuing. “And I suppose no, we can’t be friends. Be- because, if you accept, only if you want to, um–”

You look at Midoriya with wide eyes as his freckled cheeks turn pink. Something light and sweet and hopeful fills your chest. Is this–

“–will you go on a date with me?”

A smile spreads across your face. You lean in close to him, until you can see the way his irises start from a forest green near the pupil and flare out into a brighter emerald, until you can feel the soft exhales from his parted lips brush against your mouth.

“Yes,” you whisper.

You withdraw your hands from Midoriya’s hold and move them up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs stroking gently over his freckled cheeks. One of his hands slips up to support the back of your neck, the other rests on your lower back.

Your eyes flutter shut as he starts to lean in, and–

“Deku, sir, you have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

At the secretary’s voice, Midoriya jerks away from you and leaps to his feet. You yank your hands away from his face, face growing hot at being caught so close to each other.

“Um, yes! I’ll be there shortly, thank you,” Midoriya manages to say.

He watches as the secretary nods and leaves his office, pointedly leaving the door open behind her.

Midoriya looks down at you, cheeks pink, and an apologetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry, but I have to get ready for the meeting. You can stay in here if you’d like, though, and rest some more. I know you’ve been working really hard lately.”

You smile and shake your head. “Don’t apologize for anything, Midoriya. You’re the number one hero, after all. I’m lucky to be able to spend time with you almost daily.”

You get to your feet, shaking out the jacket he had draped over you, and hang it over the back of the chair you slept in.

You start walking toward the door, looking over your shoulder to smile at Midoriya. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

Midoriya calls your name. He hurries toward you, closing the distance, fiddling with his fingers in front of his body. “Are you free? Tonight? I don’t want to be too forward, but maybe–”

You rest your hands on his own, and his fidgeting stills. “Tonight would be wonderful.” You pause for a moment, thinking.

“My place at seven? We can have dinner, and that way we don’t have to worry about someone recognizing you. And,” you add on, a cheeky smile spreading across your face, “we won’t get interrupted.”

Midoriya’s face turns red, and he swallows twice before speaking. “O-okay. Yeah. That sounds good. Really good.”

“Good.” You grin at him, eyes soft and full of affection. He always looks so cute when he blushes like that, and your brain isn’t fast enough to stop your mouth from moving again. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” you blurt out.

His eyes grow wide, and you duck your head in embarrassment. “See you at seven!” you squeak, hurrying away from Midoriya.

As you leave his office and shut the door behind you, Midoriya rubs a hand over his face, his cheeks still hot and red. Then he stiffens. “The meeting!” He hurries over to his desk, sorting through the papers to find what he needs.

He manages to get to the meeting on time and greets everyone with a smile.

A smile that is bigger and brighter than usual.

–

Midoriya arrives ten minutes before seven, and he spends those ten minutes pacing in front of your door and muttering to himself anxiously. He doesn’t want to mess anything up, but the fact that he’s had a crush on you since his second year at U.A. puts all the more pressure on him.

When the time on his watch displays seven o’clock, he takes a deep breath, straightens his green dress shirt, and knocks on your door.

You pull open the door, greeting Midoriya with a bright smile that he returns. “Hi, come on in, please!”

He steps through the doorway and takes off his shoes, but his eyes are focused on what you’re wearing—something more casual than what you wear to the agency when you’re not in your hero costume—and his heart picks up speed in his chest.

How did you manage to look so good whenever he saw you?

You blink at him, and Midoriya realizes that he’s been studying you for a while now. He flushes slightly then thrusts his hands out before him, a pretty gift bag in his hands. “Here, this is for you.”

“Wow, thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything, though!” You take the gift bag from him and walk further into your apartment, gesturing for him to follow you.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing,” Midoriya says as he follows you to your dining room, with the kitchen on the other side of a high countertop. He leans against the counter as you busy yourself in the kitchen, lifting up the lid on a pot to let loose a cloud of steam. “Just some snacks and things that I think you’d like.”

You turn around and face him with a soft smile. “It means a lot, Midoriya, thank you.” With his sharp observation skills, you have no doubt that you’ll enjoy whatever he got for you.

“Izuku,” he blurts out. “Please, call me Izuku.”

You mouth parts, and you stare at him. “Are you sure?”

Smiles at your astonishment, he ruffles his hair with one hand as he replies, “Yes. Please. If we’re not in public, and- um-” He looks at you with a bit of heat in his eyes that makes your skin tingle and your face grow hot. “It wouldn’t do for the person I’m dating to call me by my last name, right?”

“The person you’re d-dating?” you squeak.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “That is, if you want to? To date?”

“I- yes, I want to!” Your heart is racing in your chest, and you discreetly pinch your arm. The slight sting tells you that this indeed is reality, and that Midoriya is asking you to date him.

Midoriya is beaming, you are beaming, and you honestly could float away with how happy and light you’re feeling. But as the pasta on the stove bubbles, your attention is brought back to the meal you’re cooking. So you turn back to your stove and shut off the heat, letting the boiling water start to cool down.

Midoriya watches with soft affection as you drain the pasta, mix it with shredded chicken and white sauce, and divide it up onto two plates. “Is there anything I can help with?” he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

You look up from the plates of pasta that you’re placing halved cherry tomatoes onto. “No, I’m almost done here! You can help by standing there and looking pretty.”

Midoriya’s spine stiffens, and he waves his hands in front of him. “You can’t just say that! I- you’re the pretty one here; you’re gorgeous.”

You laugh at his flustered words as you grab two extra plates, two forks, and two knives from a drawer. You slide them across the counter toward Midoriya, who picks them up.

“If you’ll set the table, I’ll bring the food out.”

He nods and moves to the table. You pull out the salad you had made earlier from the fridge and place it in the middle of the table, passing Midoriya with a gentle touch on his back to alert him of your presence.

As he finishes setting the table, you bring over the two plates of pasta. After you set them down, you move to your chair to take a seat, but Midoriya’s there to pull your chair out for you, and you give him a grateful smile as he pushes it in.

Midoriya settles down in the chair across from you. He takes in the salad and the pasta with sparkling green eyes, and thanks you for the food.

“Let’s dig in!”

–

Though you both finish eating in under an hour, Midoriya stays in your apartment late into the night. He helps you wash the dishes, passing them to you so you can dry them with a towel.

After that, you move to your living room. You open up the snacks Midoriya had brought for you, and share them while you talk about all kinds of things: work, U.A., favorite vacation trips, funniest memories, and so much more.

By the time there is a lull in your conversation, the clock in your living room shows that it’s nearly eleven-thirty, and Midoriya has been here for over four hours.

He’s telling you all about a cute cafe he saw on patrol a couple days ago while he slips his shoes on by the door, but Midoriya falls silent when you open it for him. He steps outside, and you do too, closing the door behind you.

Midoriya looks at you, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “Thank you for tonight. It was– it was amazing.”

“Yeah,” you say, “it really was.”

He swallows. “Would it be too forward of me to, um, ask if I can kiss you?”

Your eyes widen, but you step closer to him and slide your hands up his chest. “Would it be too forward of me to say yes?”

Midoriya instinctively dips his head closer to yours and wraps his arms around your waist. You lean into him, your body pressed up against his, until his breaths brush against your lips.

“No, it wouldn’t,” he says softly.

“It’s about time,” you tease. “Then kiss me, Izuku.”

His heart skips a beat at the sound of your voice saying his first name, and his body feels hot. “Okay.”

Midoriya closes the distance between you, and finally, finally, his lips meet your own.

His mouth is warm and soft as it moves against yours, brushing once, then twice, before he deepens the kiss. You let out a small whimper as he cups one hand behind your neck to pull you even closer. He swallows the sound, and you can feel his lips curl up in the corners as he smirks. But when you slide one of your hands up into his hair, tugging gently as you tilt your head and trace his lower lip with your tongue, he moans too.

You pull back to draw air into your lungs, staring at Midoriya as he does the same. His eyes are a dark green, pupils dilated, and they’re locked onto your lips that glisten under the light of the hallway.

He’s still staring at your lips as he says, “I have to go.”

His voice is quiet and halfhearted at best, so you easily pull his head toward yours, and you slant your mouth to cover his own again. Your lips move, and your hands wander, exploring his muscles that shift under your touch, that flex as he takes a few steps until he has you pressed between his body and your door.

You kiss, and you kiss, and you kiss.

Finally, Midoriya reluctantly steps away from you, moving his arms back down to his side. He’s breathless, his face flushed. “I- I really have to, um, go home now.”

You’re equally out of breath, but you smile at him softly and say, “Get home safely, Izuku. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

He nods and presses one last kiss against your swollen lips. His eyes are green and bright, alive, as he watches you enter your apartment and close the door behind you.

Though the slab of wood now blocks you from Midoriya, your heart still pounds, and your body still tingles. You bring a hand up to your lips and touch them gently, a content smile spreading across your face.

Sighing dreamily, you turn around, lock your apartment door, and start preparing for work tomorrow.

Even though you’re packing your bag and lunch for work, giddiness fills you as you move around your apartment.

You can only think of him.

–

Once he hears you turn the lock, Midoriya turns away from your door and takes the elevator up to the roof. He activates his quirk in a crackling of green light and leaps off the roof and into the night sky.

Though the air is cold as it cuts past him, his heart is warm with love and affection.

He can only think of you.

–

Fic Tags • @hanniejji @sadistiks

Everything Tags • @knifeewifee @ererokii

#boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #bnhabookclub #type: text #type: fanfic #fanfic: reader insert #fanfic: one-shot #fanfic: pro hero verse #type: anime #anime: boku no hero academia #ch: midoriya izuku #network: bnhabookclub #my writing #my writing: fic

354 notes · View notes

sgt-morgan · 3 years

Text

Lucky Kentucky ch. 1

Chapter 2

Hello there, this is my new Rockstar!Bucky x Reader fic. It was heavily inspired by my love of seventies mega rockstars, Almost Famous, Classic Rock, and a little bit of personal whimsy. I hope you enjoy, and read responsibly.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ : cussing, sexy times, drugs, booze, smoking, objectification, fornication, liberation, and a litany of other sordid topics and traumas.

Your name didn’t matter, at least not so far as you could tell. They called you Kentucky, sometimes if they felt cheeky, Bluegrass. You liked it, the first band that gave you that name was some shitty college band out of Detroit. They were convinced they were gonna be the next Led Zepplin. They called it quits three years later, a good old fashioned Rock n’ Roll suicide, booze, women, and drugs. The finer things always gets the best amateurs. However, their lead singer had a way with words, he came up with the nickname. He also wrote a beautiful song about a girl named Kentucky, who he just couldn’t swing, some big named country superstar sang the song and the last you’d heard he had been writing for the best of the best since. This earned you your title, Lucky Kentucky. A bit on the nose for your taste, but it made perfect sense. You kept following the music, you went to a band in L.A., the day you left, they signed a record deal with Sony. The next was a little English girl and her backing band, her first tour of England with you landed her a tour of the US faster than they could say ‘Burbon.’

You are what is known in the music business as a road manager, so far as you could tell, this was the job you were born to do. You made schedules, you supplied booze and other artifacts, you got hotels, paid off paparazzi, packed busses, and shoved half out of their mind rock stars on to stages in more countries than you could count, you couldn’t imagine any better life. You were the best of the best, you were who the record company called when everyone else had given up. You were a fixer, and an incredibly talented one at that. You had a gift for taking a mediocre side show band, and turning them into headliners.

So when you got the call from Tony and Pepper that you had to fix The Howling Comandos, you were shocked. They were big time, nothing like your usual fixer upper opener that you could make insta stars. They certainly weren’t your crowd, but you always had a problem saying no to Pepper, Tony’s company manager. Tony was a talented mixer, and a gifted album technician. So when he started his own label, it blew up pretty quickly. The comandos were the first band he signed. They had won Album of the Year their first Grammy season without even batting an eyelash. So once business started booming, Pepper took over the paper work, and Tony did what he did best, Fucking around with a mixing board. You had met them when you started working with Natasha and the Widows, a Blondie style punk outfit. They had a pension for eating men alive. Eventually, it got in the way of their success, so you stepped in and saved the band from total destruction. You and the starks had been thick as theives since.

“Tony, you mean to tell me, that the Commandos, the biggest artists of the decade, need my help?” You scoffed down the line, checking the Widows out of the last hotel of their tour with Greta Van Fleet.

“Yes Bluegrass, I do. Barnes is going through some existential heart break shit ‘cause ole bitch called of the wedding, and fucked the Guitarist of their opener. He’s been all drugs, booze, and sappy shit since, and someone’s gotta get the mother fucker back on stage. I’m Loosing money here Kentucky, something’s gotta give.” Tony sounded livid, there were very few times where Tony was as frazzled as this, so you knew it was serious.

“Alright, but I have conditions.” You sighed, you thought you could hear the sound of Pepper weeping tears of joy, but you couldn’t be sure. “I want the Widows to open, I’m not done with them yet Stark they’ve got some potential that still needs to be tapped. I want Frankie on security, I want Wanda for wardrobe and makeup, I want Vision for my techie, and I’m taking Peter as my Head roadie.” It was a big ask, but if you were doing this, you were gonna need the best possible team.

“Jeez woman, rob the treasure chest would yah? You want all of them? You just asked me for the entire roster. They’re on other tours! I can’t just- HEY! Woman don’t you-“ you heard a slap and an ow, and suddenly you were with the one and only Pepper Potts- Stark.

“Kentucky? You have a deal. You can have the Allstars in three months, everyone’s tours should be wrapping up, that puts you just in time for festival season. You up to it?” Pepper sounded like someone had just kicked her puppy. So you knew, you were the only one that could save the day.

“Virginia? Count me in. Give me the three months to plan and connect with the team and I’ll make sure James Barnes makes it onto that bus.” You could practically taste her relief through the receiver. What had you just signed up for.

————————————————————————

You’d done it. Six months, 7 bus rentals, 75 hotels, 107 plane rides, 20 festivals, 95 shows, 89 cities, and roughly 200 people later, you had managed to construct the American leg of one of the biggest and longest tours you had ever seen. All it took was two months, and 23 bottles of Jack Daniels, and you had done it. Now all you had to do was meet the band, and have your first tour meeting.

You had never been so nervous to meet a group of men in your life. Normally, these meetings we’re pretty laid back and informal. Lots of getting to know you, and goofing off. This time, you were in charge of a multi-million dollar tour that could make or break the band of the decades d ruin your career. No pressure. Needless to say, you were fairly nervous.

You were relieved upon arrival that the first people to make it in were the people who seemed to be the most reliable. Vision and Wanda were quietly whispering to eachother in the corner as always, their hands gently intertwined as they surveyed the rest of their new subjects. Frankie was standing off in another corner looking like an immovable brick wall. His sunglasses firmly in place on his nose, looking scary as always. Peter was off with the widows flirting with their drummer. You didn’t think it would end well, seeing as MJ was a bit of a hot head, and Peter was akward and nerdy, but to your surprise, they seemed to be getting along swimmingly. Natasha and Carol were staring at a book full of something, if you had to guess, it would be song lyrics of some variety, and to your shock and absolute awe, Peggy had saddled up to Steve Rogers. Steve was the guitarist of the Commandos, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. Tony and Pepper were chatting with Clint and Sam the drummer and bassist of the Commandos, and Bruce Banner, your newly appointed second hand. James Barnes was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, well, good to see that most of you have arrived early!” You smirked walking to the head of the table with your big box of tour folders, Peter moving instantly to help you. “If I have not yet made your acquaintance, I am Kentucky, just Kentucky, you may call me Bluegrass or Lucky, but I will always prefer Kentucky. It has come to my immediate attention, that you sorry suckers were in need of a fantastic road manager, and here I am.” You survey the room as you spoke taking into account every face that you could see in the room and making sure everyone was following. “Now, where is James?”

————Some unnamed bar across town ————

Bucky’s head pounded. Wether it was from the booze or the pounding music he had no clue, but he could tell that it was far too early to be in this booth.

“You really went for it last night Barnes,” Bucky looks for the source of the voice to find that, Luke Cage, owner of the best bar in LA, was unloading boxes of tequila into his storage cabinets under the bar. “You shouldn’t have either, you’re late for your tour meeting.”

Bucky absorbed the information, and felt it melt out of his brain as if it were nothing more than an irritating ear worm. “How do you know about that?” He sighed running a hand down his face and slowly standing to grab his leather jacket.

“It’s sharpied onto your arm,” Luke chuckled pointing to Bucky’s right arm in just about the only clean space someone could fine. “Steve came in and did it last night before giving about a hundred dollars to let you sleep it off in that booth.”

“Of course he did,” Bucky scoffed, “the punk never knew when to leave well enough alone.” Bucky quickly slipped his sunglasses over his aching eyes, as he watched Luke slide a cup of coffee across the bar. “Goodbye Luke, your bar is the only thing I’m gonna miss about this town.”

“Goodbye Bucky, the free live music, and the fantastic tips are all I’m going to miss about you boys. I’ll tell Jess you said hello.” And with that final fond farewell, Bucky left Luke’s bar for the last time before he was trapped in a tour bus for six months.

The drive to Stark Records was as second nature to him as tying his shoes. He easily glided in between cars, making record time to his place of employment. He parked his bike next to a slot that occupied the sweetest little red corvette he’s seen in a good while. The tune in the reference catches his brain and he starts to whistle the chorus, wishing the artist formerly known as Prince was still around. He walked past Sharon, the desk clerk, giving her his customary wink and a smirk, stealing a sucker out of her candy dish and wandering into the meeting.

That’s when he saw her, the hottest piece of ass this side of the sunset strip. She looked powerful, she looked commanding, she was covered in tattoos and wearing the best looking little black number. She was saying his name. “Where is James?”

“Right here sweet thing, I hope I’m not too late to the party, I’d hate to miss anything that came out of that pretty little mouth.” Boy was it pretty, the full lips covered in a red shade that he could only seem to imagine smeared all over her moth as she panted his name.

“Ah, yes there he is. Hello, James. Just in time to-”

“James is my dad sugar, I’m sure we can think of something a little more clever for you to-”

“Alright then Junior if you don’t mind, I’m trying to conduct a meeting, and I will not be letting a drunken moron interupt my carefully planned work flow.”

Bucky’s jaw snapped shut as the people around him, some friends and some strangers, laughed at the clever lady’s little barb.

“Alright then, as I was saying, I’m here to help. I believe in the Peter Grant method of representation. The you-have-a-venue-you-want-it-filled-I-have-just-the-band-sixty-forty method.” She said, flipping her hair into a simple bun on the top of her head, which Bucky couldn’t find more attractive if he tried, “I have made hotel arrangements for every show, I have made bus arrangements, I have planned for added shows, and delayed dates. I have brought you the best opener I have, the best artists, roadies, security, and technicians I could scrape together, and most importantly, I have given you my time and my trust. I can make your touring life as easy and as simple as humanly possible, or I could ruin it. However, all I want is to get you out there, grinding again, reminding your fans the reason they love you. All you have to do, is let me work, and focus on the music. Can we do that?”

“Doll? I like the way you think.”

“Junior? It’s gonna be a long fucking six months.”

35 notes · View notes

cyclopstm · 3 years

Text

DISABILITY && MENTAL HEALTH

This post will cover items such as disabilities, mental health, PTSD and trauma in relation to Scott. These are things which are either canon for him, or headcanons I want to pay more attention to on my blog.

I do not have any personal experience with any of the items I will address in this post, which means that most (if not all) of my information is gained through reading and research online. If there are items I missed out on or have described incorrectly, you may contact me about this to kindly help me figure out a new/better way to put things into words. It’s in no way my intention to upset anyone, or bring forth wrong information.

To me, it just feels like Scott is a good opportunity to improve the representation of characters and people who deal with visual impairment because the narrative that disability is binary caused that most blind characters in popular media have no vision at all. Blind characters in heroic roles like Daredevil, have powers that completely compensate for their blindness while blind people who don’t have these compensations are usually portrayed as helpless.

As a team leader and a superhero, Scott offers a good opportunity to include people who are visually impaired, yet often ignored or left out of the heroic narrative.

Needless to say, do NOT reblog this post && don’t interact with it if you’re not a RP blog.

_____________________________

TABLE OF CONTENTS : 1. Scott’s brain trauma and injury 2. Scott’s PTSD during his youth 3. Symptoms and signs of PTSD for Scott 4. Scott is (legally) blind 5. Scott cannot distinguish colours 6. How Scott deals with his visual impairment 7. The X-Mansion and dealing with trauma 8. Additional notes

________________________

1. SCOTT’S BRAIN TRAUMA AND INJURY When Scott was a young boy, he went on a travel with his parents and his little brother Alex. The family’s private jet was ambushed by an alien Shi’ar scouting ship. The boys lost their parents on that unfortunate day and in the crash, Scott took a hit to the head after his mutant powers manifested for the first time and allowed Scott to break his fall and allow him and Alex to survive. The head injury Scott suffered on that day would permanently disable the part of Scott’s brain which would have enabled him to control his optic blasts. Additionally, Scott (as well as Alex) suffered traumatic amnesia regarding the accident. Unlike his brother, Scott was forced to remain hospitalized for up to a year.

As a teenager, Scott began to suffer from severe headaches and he was sent to a specialist (Mr. Sinister in disguise) who provided him with lenses made of ruby-quartz. Scott’s mutant power erupted from his eyes as an uncontrollable blast of optic force and the only means to control it ever since have been the ruby-quartz lenses Sinister gave him. Sinister knew the lenses would help due to experiments and research he had been doing on the boy while Scott lived at the orphanage where Sinister had feigned being the owner.

2. SCOTT’S POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER DURING HIS YOUTH After losing his parents and waking up alone at the hospital after the plane crash, Scott was placed in the State Home for Foundlings, an orphanage in Omaha (Nebraska) where he was subjected to batteries of tests and experiments by the orphanage’s owner, Mr. Milbury (alias, Mr. Sinister). He placed mental blocks on Scott and took on the role of ‘Lefty’, who was Scott’s roommate and bully at the orphanage. During his time spent at the orphanage, Scott was subjected to several occasions which would leave him traumatized — such as the attempt of one of the other orphaned boys at taking his own life, and Scott’s failed attempt at saving him. Any time anyone came close to adopting Scott, Sinister intervened.

At some point, Scott demolished a crane with his optic blast, by accident. He had saved a crowd of people by using his blast again to destroy the crane before it would crush the people, but they believed he was out to kill them and chased the young mutant boy. Scott woke the attention of a mutant criminal who sought to use Scott’s powers in his crimes, but abused the kid when Summers refused. At that time, he had also attracted the attention of Charles Xavier who tracked down Scott and took him in as the first of his team of X-Men...

3. SYMPTOMS OF SCOTT’S PTSD — Reliving the traumatic event (during his childhood) :: as a boy, Scott was fond of airplanes and dreamed of becoming a pilot himself one day. But when he was taken to an air show by one of the orphanage’s nurses, he had a violent traumatic reaction in the middle of the show, reciting things he otherwise doesn’t consciously remember. — Negative Thoughts and Feelings :: Scott often deals with feelings of anger, guilt, fear or numbness. He’s prone to blame himself for things going wrong on missions with the X-Men. When someone comes to pass, he’s quick to take up responsibility and the blame for it, and occasionally even deals with survivor’s guilt. Scott also feels cut off from his friends and family and hardly keeps much interest for day-to-day activities. He hardly does them to relax, but rather only when they become necessary. — Avoidance :: Scott feels like he has to keep busy at all times, he doesn’t want to think or talk about anything in relation to his past, feels emotionally cut off from his feelings, struggles to express his emotions or affection towards others and thus comes across as numb and cold and very serious and occasionally does risky things which could be self-destructive or reckless. He’s often the first in line to sacrifice himself for the X-Men not only because he’s their leader, but also because he has little to no value for his own life. — Disturbed sleep and lack of sleep. — Taking risks and hypervigilance. — Intrusive thoughts. — Nightmares. — Trust issues. — “No one understands.”-mentality. — The sense of never being at peace.

4. SCOTT IS (LEGALLY) BLIND While Scott was born with perfectly normal eyesight, and perfect vision, he no longer has the ability to see without his ruby-quartz lenses ever since his optic blasts came to manifest. Only ruby-quartz can keep the optic blasts under control, meaning that any other means of vision such as regular glasses or lenses would not be of help for Scott. Scott literally can’t see without his ruby-quartz shades. Opening his eyes would prove incredibly destructive to his nearest surroundings.

Someone who is completely blind can’t see any light or form. Of the people with eye disorders, only about 15% can see nothing at all. If you’re legally blind, you can still see, just not that clearly. Normal vision is 20/20. That means you can clearly see an object 20 feet away. If you’re legally blind, your vision is 20/200 or less in your beter eye or your field of vision is less than 20 degrees.

In addition to being unable to distinguish colors due to the red tint in his glasses, they also reduce his low-light vision, which means Scott deals with low vision.

5. SCOTT CANNOT DISTINGUISH COLOURS I’m not using the term colorblindless in this post for the main reason that Google gives me too many search results in relation to racism, and I do not intend to use a term that has a double meaning that could be taken the wrong way.

Scott’s ruby-quartz lenses cause him to see the world through a veil of red. The lenses are tinted in red which alters Scott’s general, every day perception of the world. He sees the world in shades of grey, white, black and red and can no longer distinguish any other colours. Maybe rather than ‘colourblindness’, Scott deals with something alike to monochromacy. Though, Scott’s monochromacy is perhaps not of a kind that has been officially diagnosed in real life cases before.

The comics and movies rarely acknowledge Scott’s eyesight aside from him claiming to have an ‘eye condition’ as an excuse for him to wear sunglasses all the time. Scott’s adaptations to being unable to distinguish different colours would be mostly rather subtle and maybe it doesn’t inherently add onto the story a comic book or movie wants to tell, but they shouldn’t be ignored in how I wish to bring Scott in my writing...

6. HOW SCOTT DEALS WITH HIS VISUAL IMPAIRMENT — High contrast text and browser extensions for reading. — Color coding his outfits. He labels them with what color they are and organizes his closet by items that go together. — As a prodigy at billiards, Scott has a special billiards set adjusted to his specific needs. — Large prints for letters, books, digital fonts, etc. — Increased brightness on any of his devices’ screens. — Assistance from ‘self-driving’ tech when flying the Blackbird or riding his motorcycle. He knows the majority of controls through muscle memory by now. — Assistive technology to improve contrast, especially at night. — Scott owns a touch-based Rubik’s Cube. — Help from his closest friends.

7. THE X-MANSION AND DEALING WITH TRAUMA Scott and Ororo both (among others), are hyper aware of the traumas some of their students have experienced. They recognize behaviours and reactions in trauma survivors because they have been in such a position themselves as well. They made sure the school has a clear set of rules and policies on the safety and comfort of students. The school faculty received training in mental health first aid, there’s places students can retreat to when they feel anxious or suffer from power meltdown.

People like Scott, Jean and Rogue would know how to handle students who have gone through different types of abuse. As trauma survivors themselves, they’d take extra steps to reassure students who have every reason to distrust adults. They would announce themselves when approaching students from behind, maintain wide personal space bubbles and refrain from initiating physical contact such as hugs or touching students without asking them first. They see there’s no use in raising your voice to the kids, and won’t tollerate any kind of jokes about trauma. Scott is rumoured to be very strict on the rules of the house concerning mental health.

8. ADDITIONAL NOTES While Scott is aware that there is no shame in any of what he deals with every day, he still keeps it under wraps a lot. He doesn’t ever want for his visual impairment or his trauma to become his only and main personality trait other people associate with him. This is why a lot of people may not even know that he is dealing with these things on the daily. He’s very subtle about everything and only those who get to know him better may begin to see and notice things which indicate that he’s disabled. Scott has grown so adjusted to living with his disabilities that they commonly no longer cause him trouble.

The only people who know Scott is visually impaired because he told them himself are Charles (confidant and father-figure), Jean (lover, the person he maybe trusts more than anyone else), Hank (as the resident scientist), Ororo (as his fellow team leader) and Emma Frost (as his therapist).

Scott has been able to take therapy sessions with Charles during his early years, and later on with Emma Frost. Jean has also helped him an incredibly great deal on coping with his trauma and PTSD, lack of self-esteem and dealing with his emotions and expressing them more openly.

To this day, Scott still suffers from migraines and occasional moments of memory loss. His brain injury does not always allow him to maintain or store knowledge accurately. His migraines are a result of his optic blast building up surplus energy. When Scott can’t use his optic blast regularly, he will build up a surplus energy which manifests into migraines.

#( META. )#( SAVED. )#tw ptsd #tw mental health #tw disability #tw trauma #tw abuse

9 notes · View notes

lgcrp · 4 years

Photo

GREETINGS, LGC SUPERSTARS!

we are officially ONE ! to celebrate the occasion we come bearing gifts !!! everyone who is in the roleplay as of today will receive freebie points as follows:

ACTOR / MUSICAL ACTOR MUSES : +20 ACTING ; +6 NOTORIETY

BAND MUSES : +20 PRIMARY INSTRUMENT ; +6 NOTORIETY

ENTERTAINER MUSES : +10 HOSTING / MCING ; +10 VARIETY ; +6 NOTORIETY

MODEL MUSES : +20 MODELING ; +6 NOTORIETY

PRODUCER MUSES : +10 COMP ( MUSIC ) ; +10 COMP ( LYRICS ) ; +6 NOTORIETY

ALL OTHERS : +20 PERFORMING ; +6 NOTORIETY

if you’re confused about what your muse has received, you can also check out the spreadsheet here. please let us know if there are any errors ! and also, you can link directly to this post or the linked spreadsheet as proof of points in your own spreadsheets !

below the cut we have messages from each of our admod staff !!! thank you all again for a wonderful first year ! we love you !!!

from admin l (el):

her message will come in the next post !!!

from admin * (kristin):

“wow! one year! funny how time passes so fast, huh? so much has happened in this past year: i graduated college, landed my first full-time job—not to forget the whole pandemic, too. but lgc’s always been the constant throughout these big changes in my life, and i’ve never been more grateful. i think i speak for a lot of people when i say that roleplaying, like any other hobby, is less about the actual roleplaying and more about the community—i mean, don’t get me wrong, i love my characters and the development i’ve had with them since their creation, but there’s just something about lgc that’s the reason i’m excited to log onto this terrible website everyday: and it’s you guys. i’ve been in the krp community since 2012, and it’s sad to see that it’s devolved into having more downs than ups throughout the years. i can’t remember that last time i stayed in a roleplay for more than a month or two, nor the last time i’ve created online friendships and connections as strong as i have here. i’ve been a member longer than i’ve been an admod, so believe me when i say: so whether you’ve just joined us or you’ve been here since the beginning, thank you. thank you so much for fostering such a welcoming and fun environment for everyone here. thank you to always bring such love and creativity to the dash, and thank you for constantly inspiring me. thank you for the excitement and the commitment, and thank you for understanding when i spend more than two months replying to a thread (lol). thank you for giving me and the rest of the admod your trust to ensure that our atmosphere’s only further expanded upon, not erased, and thank you for all the suggestions on how to make lgc a better place. it’s important to remember that lgc wouldn’t be what it is today without our members, so this anniversary is as much of achievement for us as it is for y’all. we have so much in store for this group—we promise, we’re not going anywhere!—and i personally want to honor the torch leo and ori have passed onto me as the new graphics admin. expect bigger and better things, lgc. it’s only the beginning!”

from admin g (grace):

"how has it already been one year since we’ve opened??? it feels like just yesterday when the three of us decided that we wanted to go through with opening up a new roleplay. i’ve admined many roleplays in the past, but usually, that initial lull of getting apps or the disinterest that ends up plaguing many roleplays in the early months has always left me disenchanted at the whole thing that i give up even before the six month mark so to hit such a milestone is really something remarkable for me. needless to say, it’s also just been amazing for me to be working with such a dream team who really fill in the areas in which i lack. however, at the end of the day, we also wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for all of you members. without you, lgc simply wouldn’t exist. thank you for helping this place thrive. thank you for always being excited about the events that we plan. thank you for being so willing to share your thoughts and ideas ( we’ve had so many wonderful events come to life because of our members’ suggestions and we’re always excited to receive more of those that we can incorporate ). from the moment we started brainstorming about this place, our vision has been for lgc to be an interactive community that would be shaped by its members and less by us as admins. we hope you’re able to see that vision come to life, and we know that we might be lacking still, but we hope to continue to refine our systems so that we can allow for more of that. finally, thank you all for loving my muses as well and for being so willing to plot with them. i know i’ve also been personally overwhelmed lately that i haven’t been able to plot with everyone, but i hope one day that my muses will get to meet all of yours. thank you again to all of you ( and also to all of those who have passed through lgc in this last year! ). love you all!”

from mod a ( cloud ):

one year already?? i’ve been in this rp for almost half of that and a lot has changed in those months! from joining the rp around march to becoming a mod, i have to say that it has been a pretty crazy journey! during my time in lgc, the one thing that always impresses me time and time again is the community that has been created and developed during the past twelve months. from a mun standpoint, it warms my heart knowing that the community is so welcoming towards each other. every time a new ( or returning ) muse is being brought to this lovely community, i love seeing how engaging and friendly the members are. not only that but there are also the posts that i see on the dash and while it can be a lot to go through sometimes, it’s reassuring knowing that people are willing to take the time to participate in these events and develop their muses! to me, these elements are what makes lgc what it is today and i hope that this continues in the future as well! i know that there are a lot of people i want to thank for but at the end of the day, there are two groups that i want to give my shoutouts to. the first is the admod team because they have entrusted me with this role and even though it’s only been a few weeks since i was appointed as a mod, i can attest to the amount of passion and hard work the whole team has with making sure that everyone has the best experience possible! i know that we can’t be a perfect rp, but we really do appreciate all of the feedback that has been given to us since that is what motivates us to become better. and ofc my second shoutout is to all of the members ( both past and present )! thank you for the support and effort you have given to the admod team! whether it’s posting on the dash to reading your reactions to the events, we appreciate all of that! i hope that this rp continues to prosper for many more years and once again, HAPPY ONE YEAR, LGC! 🎉

from admin c ( marie ):

“one year. it might not seem like a lot to some of you guys but when we created this project we didn’t even expect to last until christmas and that’s if we even got enough members to open. even though we’ve always planned for the long haul we didn’t think we’d be writing a first anniversary message in 2020. what a year, right? so many events happened both within our small community and in the outside world. i won’t lie, legacy requires a lot of work, organization and dedication. but we’re proud when we see you guys participate in everything with so much enthusiasm. i wanted to write a long and touching message but i can’t really find the proper words right now so i’ll just leave it as simple as possible. thank you for trusting us, for investing time and energy in your wonderful character, for choosing us and sticking around, for sending suggestions on events you’d like to see, for being respectful of us and the other members too. we could work our hardest and none of this would be possible without you guys interacting with it and being excited about it. thank you for being patient and understanding with us, and for taking minutes of your time each week to read all of the new events because we truly don’t give you any rest i’ll admit that LMAO. we’ve always wanted for lgc to be a peaceful, fun and stimulating writing environment for everyone and we hope we were able to be that for some of you. we’re still lacking and by no means perfect but we’ve always tried our best and will keep doing so for as long as you guys are on board with us ( or until we get a life maybe idk hghgjfdk ). i don’t know what the future holds but no matter what, i can say i’m proud of this project and how it turned out, not only with the admod team ( past and present ) but with every single person who helped build this place by just becoming a part of our community. i love you all and look forward to see your muses grow in the upcoming year!”

from mod y ( lissa ):

“thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all. thank you for putting your faith in us. words can never describe how much we appreciate you guys. ily all.“

#lgc:notes #lgc:anniversary

29 notes · View notes

cyberkevvideo · 3 years

Text

Monster Conversion - Frostwind Virago (3.5 to PF1e)

Found this and decided to share it. Back before the pandemic happened, my group was playing the “Reign of Winter” Paizo AP. Needless to say they took a major detour, and as such I had to come up with something, and I recalled this cold lady. Given the fey they’d already come across over the adventure, this made sense. Unfortunately, our game was called short for obvious reasons, then one of our players got a transfer, and a couple of us lost contact. Needless to say they’ll never see this creature now, which is a shame.

Art is from Monster Manual V.

If you like what I do, I have a Ko-Fi page (linked) for those who would like to support me monetarily. There is no pressure or obligation to do so. A like and/or a share would also be appreciated just as much.

I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy.

Anyone curious about these creatures can give them a read on the Forgotten Realms wiki. They’re one of my favourite creatures in Monster Manual V.

Her charm effect is a little higher a DC than I would have liked, but it’s better than the original CR 31 she had back in 3.5e, and I made sure the other abilities are more balanced comparatively. Also fixed her very unbalanced unearthly grace that seemingly gave her 1.5x her Charisma modifier. One of the bigger downsides of fey is definitely them only having d6 hit points and 1/2 Base Attack. Makes balancing monster more difficult.

FROSTWIND VIRAGO A pale female with smooth, attractive features and glossy blue eyes, this creature is draped in a fur cloak. Despite the fact that flakes of frost dust her shoulders, face, and arms, she seems charming. Frostwind Virago (CR 16; XP 76,800) NE Medium fey Init +7; Senses low-light vision; Perception +30 Aura mind freeze (30 ft.) DEFENSE AC 31, touch 23, flat-footed 23 (+7 Dex, +5 deflection, +1 dodge, +8 natural) hp 228 (24d6+144) Fort +18, Ref +26, Will +22 DR 10/cold iron; Immune cold; SR 27 OFFENSE Speed 30 ft., fly 60 ft. (perfect), swim 20 ft. Melee 2 frostbite touches +20 each (2d6+12 plus 3d6+12 cold) Special Attacks captivating call, icy vortex STATISTICS Str 17, Dex 24, Con 20, Int 16, Wis 17, Cha 20 Base Atk +12; CMB +19; CMD 38 Feats Agile Maneuvers, Combat Expertise, Dodge, Flyby Attack, Improved Disarm, Mobility, Persuasive, Spring Attack, Toughness, Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus (frostbite touch), Whirlwind Attack Skills Acrobatics +32, Bluff +30, Diplomacy +30, Escape Artist +30, Fly +26, Intimidate +30, Knowledge (nature) +18, Perception +30, Sense Motive +30, Stealth +30, Survival +30, Swim +23; Racial Modifiers +8 Fly, +4 Intimidate, +4 Survival, +8 Swim SQ unearthly grace Languages Auran, Common, Elven, Sylvan SPECIAL ABILITIES Captivating Call (Su) When a frostwind virago speaks and wills it to be so, all creatures (other than frostwind viragos) within a 300-foot-radius spread must succeed on a DC 27 Will save or become captivated. This is a language-based, sonic mind-affecting ability. A creature that successfully saves cannot be affected again by that same frostwind virago’s call for 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma-based. A captivated victim walks toward the frostwind virago, taking the most direct route available. If the path leads into a dangerous area, that opponent receives a second saving throw. Captivated foes can take no actions other than to avoid attack. A captivated victim within 5 feet of a frostwind virago stands there and offers no resistance to the fey’s attacks. The effect continues for as long as the frostwind virago speaks and for 1d4 rounds thereafter. A bard’s countersong ability allows a captivated victim to attempt a new Will save. Frostbite Touch (Su) A frostwind virago’s touch disrupts matter and freezes it. Each set of damage is modified by the frostwind virago’s Dexterity and Charisma bonus. The damage dealt is piercing and cold damage. Icy Vortex (Su) A frostwind virago can produce a whirling mass of ice shards that lasts 1 round in a 30-foot radius around herself. Creatures in the area take 6d6 points of piercing damage plus 6d6 points of cold damage unless they make a Reflex DC 27 for half. The save DC is Charisma-based. Mind Freeze Aura (Su) At the end of each of a frostwind virago’s turns, creatures within 30 feet of her must succeed on a DC 27 Will save or be shaken for 1 round. Those who fail by 5 or more are dazed for 1 round, and those who fail by 10 or more are stunned for 1 round. The save DC is Charisma-based. A frostwind virago can suppress this ability at will as a free action. Frostwind viragos are immune to this aura. Unearthly Grace (Su) A frostwind virago adds her Charisma modifier as a racial bonus on all her saving throws, and as a deflection bonus to her Armor Class.

ECOLOGY Environment cold mountains Organization solitary or court (frostwind virago plus 1-4 frost giants) Treasure standard

4 notes · View notes

issa-me-addy · 4 years

Text

Better Than Words (OC x Bucky Barnes)

Corner’s

PART ONE/?

A/N: HELLO welcome to my chaos. This takes place in an AU after Spiderman: Homecoming where the Avengers have reassembled and the following all live in the Avengers tower: Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Wanda and Vision. Peter Parker’s identity is still intact and he spends his free time training at the Avengers tower under a “Stark internship”.

also here is my masterlist!

Word Count: 2261

Warnings: fluff, mild angst, and slow burn

New city. New apartment. New job. New life.

Maya was ready, though. After living in her parents house up until her mid 20s, she was beyond prepared to leave and get the change of scenery she’s been craving since middle school. And with everything she did, everybody could see how sure of this she was.

She did everything without hesitation. She said yes to the Midtown School of Science and Technology without even taking the time offered to think about it. She signed the lease to the first studio apartment she found in Manhattan and she started packing the moment she knew the job and the apartment were hers.

By the beginning of June, Maya had moved everything to New York and was pushing her parents out of her apartment. But of course they insisted on staying.

“Just one night! I can make you dinner and help you organize the kitchen. We’ll be out of your hair by the morning.” Her mom practically begged, as she was, quite frankly very anxious about the entire move.

And of course Dad agreed, “I could install your shelves and build your bed frame so you don’t sleep on a mattress on the floor tonight.”

But Maya needed this. She couldn’t wait another night to fully embrace the reality of her new life.

“No, it is fine! Really!” Maya was already grabbing her mom’s purse, and fishing her dad’s keys out of the pile of junk on the kitchen counter. “I want you guys on the road before it gets too dark. Just make sure you call me when you get back to Philly!”

And through bewildered arguments at the daughter’s new found independence, Maya continued to walk them towards the door. She managed to yell over them, and then physically pushed them out of the apartment, “I love you! Drive safe! Dad, make sure to use your turn signals!”

And like a coming of age film, she closed the door, fixed all the locks, and pressed her back against the door of her studio, her eyes scanning the first thing that was completely and utterly hers. She took a breath and felt excitement like no other started to fill her veins.

Maya spent the rest of the night fixing the bathroom and then the kitchen. By 3 in the morning she was freshly showered and sitting on the floor of her living room with her back pressed against the couch. She smiled at the cluttered space, a piece of pizza in her hand, and Shrek 2 spinning in the DVD player.

For the next two weeks Maya spent her days unpacking, arranging, decorating, reading, online shopping, rearranging, and singing at the top of her lungs.

Most afternoons she’d go downstairs to the Corner Cafe that was renting the apartment to her. Maya would sit and work on transfer paperwork, brainstorm potential classroom setups, and draft book lists for the Fall semester. Every now and then she’d make conversation with the barista, a high school student named MJ. Maya would ask about local bookstores, where to get the best Thai food, and eventually about Midtown. They both laughed when they realized they’d probably be spending the school year together. Needless to say, Maya and MJ got along really well.

The following Friday afternoon, the Cafe was a bit more crowded. But all the same, Maya sat at her corner table by the pick up counter. She had always gravitated towards this spot, but now it was mostly to chat with MJ when things got slow and to cheer her on during the rushes. And MJ definitely needed a lot of support this shift.

And then to Maya’s disbelief Natasha Romanoff walked in.

It was an interesting scenario considering everyone knew who the Avengers were now, but what was far more interesting to Maya was the way no one paid any mind to her presence. She figured it was true what they said about New York: everyone just minded their own business, really. In any case, Maya didn’t feel any strong emotions towards being in the presence of known vigilantes, but she couldn’t help but feel her muscles tense when Natasha stood at the side of her table.

A few moments passed and before Maya could properly comprehend what she was doing, she opened her mouth. “Would you like to sit?”

Natasha was taken aback but nodded appreciatively, smiled and pulled the chair opposite to Maya and sat down. “Thanks, stranger.” Natasha’s knees were facing the counter though, an elbow each on the back of her chair and another on the table they were now sharing.

A handful of moments passed again and Maya let out an exasperated groan after realizing that she, yet again, sent the wrong attachment to her new boss.

Natasha’s fingers were now rapping rhythmically, against the wooden table top and then she spoke up. “Rough day?”

Maya was a bit razzled, despite the fact that she was the one that opened up the possibility of a conversation just moments ago. “Uh, yes and no? It's just a new job. It's a bit overwhelming, you know?”

It was only after the words came out of her mouth that Maya realized she shouldn’t have said her job was overwhelming to a person who fought crime for a living. She bit her tongue and braced herself for a laugh but it didn’t come.

“You’ll get a hang of it.” It was at this moment that MJ called Natasha’s name out. She stood and pushed in her chair before grabbing the little white baggy off the counter. “Try one of the pastries. I promise it’ll make you feel a bit better; they’re the best in the whole city.”

Maya gave her a small smile and a nod, “I’ll do that! Have a good night.”

“You too, Stranger.” Natasha proceeded to pinch the little bag between her teeth, rummaging through her pockets and walking towards the exit

In the following weeks, the interactions only became more frequent. It was probably every other day that the two would see each other at Corners.

At first it was Hellos and Goodbyes but eventually Natasha would sit at the same table with Maya while waiting for her order to be ready, not that it ever took all that long. Before the end of the month, the two exchanged names and Maya was happy to find that Natasha actually preferred to be called Nat.

Shortly after the proper introductions Nat started to enjoy her pastry at the table with Maya before leaving.

Very quickly, Maya grew tired of the same courteous conversations and started talking about her new teaching job and Nat helped in large part with all of Maya’s online shopping decisions. Sometimes Maya was afraid of coming off as self centered but she was pretty wary of asking Nat about her life outside of the coffee shop. But, fortunately Nat was much more interested in classroom decor and keeping updated with Maya’s personal challenge of trying every possible drink MJ was willing to make.

By July, Nat started bringing the other Avengers by for coffee runs.

Maya immediately hit it off with Steve. After finding out that Maya was a literature teacher, Steve would talk about how reading was his favorite pastime pre-serum and that he’d love to visit the classroom one day. He even geeked about the latte art that MJ would do in the wide mouth mugs for Maya. She and Nat did not miss the opportunity to laugh about this when Steve excused himself to use the bathroom.

It was peculiar though. Nat would tease that Maya and Steve were a literal match made in heaven. She’d go on about their overlapping interests and how smoothly they got along from the beginning. Maya had to think about it, though. On one hand, Maya thought, who wouldn’t want to be of interest to Captain America himself?

But alas, Maya was the kind of girl who believed in the kind of love that you felt in your gut. And despite the blush on her cheeks when Nat talked about the two of them, Maya didn’t feel it in her gut.

Weeks had passed and Maya had grown accustomed to greeting Nat, Steve, Pepper, Sam & Wanda whenever they made their way into Corners. None of them really stopped to chat, except for Nat and Steve, but Maya thought it was still nice to share small smiles and waves with the rest of them.

In the back of her mind, Maya thought a lot about the rest of the Avengers. She was well aware of Tony Stark and heard things about Vision in passing, but Nat eventually clarified that Tony doesn’t get his own coffee and Vision still doesn’t entirely comprehend the act of food consumption.

Truly, Maya was most curious about Steve’s best friend, Bucky. Steve did talk about him in passing from time to time but Maya knew to not straightforwardly ask about him. She knew the bare minimum about The Winter Soldier from the Daily Bugle and the tabloids. And knowing that Steve was his best friend, Maya bit her tongue despite all the questions flooding her mind whenever his name came up.

It was the last week of July when Nat finally brought Bucky to Corners.

In Maya’s mind, aside from meeting Nat, Bucky’s introduction was the most memorable. When she thought long and hard about it, it was mostly because of the fact that Bucky’s first impression was distinctly different from the rest of them-- less chirpy, you could say.

When the two of them walked in, Nat basically made a beeline for Maya’s little table and greeted her right away.

“Hey, Nat! Pastry or coffee today?” Maya hummed, barely looking up from her laptop. She was intensely focused on finishing a thought about her lesson plan before properly opening herself up to conversation.

Nat sat to the right of Maya, her back facing the counter. Then, Nat gestured for Bucky to sit in her usual spot, across from Maya.

“Pastries! I caught ol’ Bucky here snagging some of my extras in the middle of the night, so I decided to let him in on the secret.”

Maya nodded before properly looking up, “Sounds like quite the racoon to me,” a small smile forming on her face. Then she lifted her eyes from her computer screen and there he was. Maya’s stomach turned in the most peculiar way.

Bucky had on a hoodie and his hair was tied up in a low ponytail. The hood wasn’t up on his head but instead fluffed up enough to come up around the bottom of his ears and his hands were in his pocket, resting in his lap underneath the table. He seemed hesitant to hold any eye contact with her, which Maya didn’t take offense to, but he did manage to look at her for a moment.

He gave the smallest acknowledging grin before saying, “Hello, I’m James.”

Nat was preoccupied during this small moment, busy trying to wave down MJ who was in the middle of pulling a shot of espresso. “MJ! Just the pastries today, but make it a double order, please!”

Nat turned back to Maya before she could properly introduce herself to Bucky.

“Yeah, he caught me with a jam filled one last week and has been snatching them ever since.”

Maya smiled at this. “So what? The jig is up? Everyone in the tower knows that tough Natasha Romanoff is obsessed with flakey pastries?” She loved to tease Nat, but some of her joy was being overcome by the tension she was creating in her own mind about even looking at Bucky.

Hearing him chuckle at her remark did help her muscles ease up though.

“Ha. Ha,” Nat dully retorted. “The only reason I decided to share my secret with him is because he won’t tell a soul. It’d be much easier for me to gain my dignity back if I got caught, but he would lose most of, if not all of his tough guy credentials.”

Maya giggled in response before looking straight into Bucky’s eyes and reassuring him, “Don’t worry. Even if you get caught I think Corner’s pastries are well worth losing your street cred.”

Bucky chuckled and brought his flesh hand up to rub his index finger underneath his nose. “I think you’re right, doll. I’d risk it all for another raspberry one.”

Maya felt a wave of mixed emotions following Bucky’s response. She felt her skin grow hot after processing the outdated nickname and only hoped that her complexion wasn’t visibly compromised. All the while though, she was glad to have been able to have any kind of conversation with him.

Fortunately for Maya, she didn’t have to withstand that burning feeling for much longer because MJ called out Nat’s name and she was quick as a cat to grab the little white bags off the counter.

Nat patted her hand on Maya’s shoulder, not even bothering to sit back down. She looked at Bucky and nodded her head towards the door. “Alright, Maya! We’re out. I’ll see you next time.”

“Yeah, get back safe,” Maya responded, her hand reached up and patted Nat’s knuckles as Bucky pushed in his chair. “It was nice to meet you, James.”

“You too, Maya,” and with that, Bucky gave a small wave and pulled his hood up as he and Nat made their way out the door and down the street.

Maya watched until they were out of sight.

—

TAGS: @asuperconfusedgirl

23 notes · View notes

zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 8

a/n: I hope you didn’t think I’d make it quite so easy. A little pull and tug is worth it sometimes ya know? idk how much longer I’ll be around. Most people don’t engage with the fics anymore and Shawn isn’t really the Shawn I fell in love with anymore. Life just kind of sucks at the moment. But I’ve got this chapter already written so I thought I’d post it. If you liked it and actually want it to continue? I might recommend letting me know tbh. Bye.

Shawn’s point of view

The problem with taking a woman to Rome on the first date is that anything after that just seems silly. What exactly was he to do now? Invite her over to his apartment for sushi? Even he would walk out on that date! It didn’t help that the second they got back to New York, after a very long winded kiss goodbye, that she’d jumped right into preparation for the VMAs. That essentially meant he wasn’t going to see her for days, maybe weeks. VMA season sparked award season in general for the music industry. It might not exactly give an indication of Grammys, but with the award show always arriving right as the ellibility period for the more prestigious honor was ending, it meant that the VMAS was the beginning of the long haul to get your artist at the top of the charts and fucking keep them there. Which also meant that just like she was busy, so was he. The difference was she actually liked her job. And he had...oh how he hated his.

He’s sitting in a marketing meeting for Sarah Leone. Sarah Leone is his dad’s bid for best new artist of the year. Forget the fact that y/n had her secret weapon of Normani and Khalid on one management team, and that he sort of had a feeling she was going to do a solo album release directly before the grammy consideration deadline just to keep the industry on its toes, his dad was thoroughly convinced Sarah was his ticket. And in a lot of ways she was. Small town girl turned mega popstar in a little over a year, her debut album was set to make beautiful numbers. Unfortunately that wasn’t enough. His dad had a very direct line of vision and that vision was complete and total domination. So it wasn’t enough to have your music sell, he wanted his artists to be inescapable from the public eye. Enter this season’s publicity stunt: The MC.

His dad thought it was a clever way to reference Miley Cyrus. Back in the day he’d orchestrated Miley’s dating of a 20 year old when she was 16 to address her rebellious teen phase. What most people saw as a kid going off the rails, was actually a perfectly manipulated moment in pop history. Except the dick cake that lost her the walmart branding deal, that was all her unfortunately.

Sarah was supposed to be seen out and about with mysterious new “it” british singer, Ty Summers. He was 21. She turned 18 just months prior. The two had begun with a close knit friendship, and were now being guided through the early stage of good, whole-hearted, perfectly constructed, “love”. He peers down at one of the new stills for her headline of V magazine, and simply can’t believe she’s 18. The cover makes him uncomfortable, makes him feel icky. No one at the table notices. And his dad isn’t even there, because this is too low level for the kind of work he does anymore.

“Next, I want her in London for the UK press tour. We’ll have her position at Summers’ hotel for half of her stay. I want pap shots at dinner every night out of the week, and I want a prompt at the BBC interview to hint at their connection. We’ll take it from there.” Jaret, one of the senior managers rattled off. “Any questions?”

He twirled boredly in his chair far from interested in the inner workings of career management if none of it meant jack shit about what the artist actually wanted for their career. It felt like such a waste of his time.

“Quick question?” He sighed popping his pen slightly into the air.

“Yes, Mendes?”

“When does she sing?” He shrugged.

The room goes still. It’s a well known fact that Jaret runs the room. He runs the meetings, runs the decisions. He’s top dog on this particular client, and Shawn is merely there under his father’s orders as an informant and nothing more. He was there to make sure things ran smoothly, but he certainly wasn’t there to offer critique. Woops.

“And what exactly does that mean?” Jaret challenged.

Shawn simply shrugged. “Just seems like if we have a musical artist who we signed on the basis of her being able to sing, that we might at some point want that to be the focal point of her career. But you know, I could be wrong.”

“There’s just one thing wrong here Shawn...we did not sign anyone. I did. We don’t make decisions on the intricacies of her career. I do. You are simply a glorified intern. Nothing more, nothing less. And if you’re father wasn’t afraid you’d run off every two seconds I wouldn’t have to babysit your ass right now. So, why don’t you let the professionals determine next steps and play on the computer daddy bought you, or whatever it is you do?”

Ouch.

The room shifted from Jaret back to Shawn. No one went against Jaret. And yet Shawn was perhaps the most unpredictable thing about his father’s company at that point. Needless to say unpredictably was a hell of a thing.

“It must really upset you that I get paid more than you do doesn’t it?” He hummed.

Jaret’s face began to redden, his nerves tighter than his balls that Shawn had such a precarious grip on at the moment.

“Or does it upset you more that I could do your job better than you right now, today, without even the ability to hear the tonedeaf artists you sign that are just pretty enough and just old enough not to get your ass arrested?” He tilted his head in contemplation. “Perhaps it’s even that one time at the company Christmas party where your wife caught you screwing your secretary in your office and stopped crying long enough for me to make her cum before signing the divorce papers? But you’re right Jaret, I simply should just get back to daddy’s computer. My bad.”

“You little son of--”

“Big.” Shawn interrupted sliding smoothly from his chair and packing his shit up from the horrible meeting he’d had no interest in attending in the first place. “I’m big son of a bitch, Jaret. Just ask Sarah.”

Sarah of course being his wife. Ex wife of course. Ex wife number three if we’re being specific.

The door shuts close behind him to Jaret screaming and lurching across the table towards his empty chair. He’d probably hear about it from his dad later. But honestly who cared. Jaret was a creepy asshole, and he was always gonna be a creepy asshole. Sorry not sorry.

***

He’d be a little embarrassed at how aggressively he yanked at the door were it not for the hopeful look in her big brown eyes when he sees her for the first time. He can tell she’s had a long day because her hair is down out of its bun already, tiny spirals falling all around her face and cheeks. But, the way she falls into his arms is enough to make his whole entire day. Because it means that after all the shit she’d been through that day, she wanted to be with him. And that’s the only thing he cared about in the whole world.

“I missed you.” He sighed already capturing her lips in a kiss.

She hummed softly against him, fingers squeezing at his shoulders.

“Missed you too.”

He pushed the door shut with his foot, arms keeping her tucked tightly against him. He’s sure he’s smiling like a complete and total idiot but he can’t help it. It’s this new exciting thing where he no longer has to be afraid of how close he is to her, no longer has to hope he doesn’t stare too long. She knows. And not only does she know, but somehow she feels the same way. It felt like a dream.

He tugged her back towards his kitchen and helped her into a seat before he pulled out the leftovers from his own dinner where he “accidently” ordered for two.

“Tiana said you didn’t eat dinner.” He shrugged at her questioning gaze. “And this little italian place up the block always gives me more than I need.”

She bit her lip and peered from the container of chicken parm to him and back to the parm. He thought for a second she just might fight him on it. And then he remembered how much she liked to eat.

“You and Tiana conspiring against me must stop!” She snorted grabbing the fork clean from his hand to dig in.

He leaned against the granite counter with his chin propped on his hand. She was wonderful. And silly. And a little ridiculous. He kind of loved it.

“Yes, because making sure you consume more than coffee in a twelve hour period is definitely a conspiracy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe so.”

“Maybe so.” He mimicked. “I missed the way you argue with me about everything. Feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Her eyes got wide and bright and she turned a grin towards him that he practically ached to lick off. She was gorgeous.

“You missed me huh? The Shawn Mendes has fallen head first into a little monogamy moment has he?”

Sometimes he liked to think that her favorite past time was taking the piss out of him. It sure seemed that way.

He rolled his eyes back at her and butted his head softly into her neck.

“And what if I have?” He whispered softly. “You have too. Right?”

His nose skimmed along her neck and she shivered. He smiled against her skin. She’d fallen just as hard alright.

“Yea I guess so.” She mumbled.

He pulled back and pressed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass to refill with water.

“You should eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

“Excuse me?”

He refilled her glass from the refrigerator and placed in front of her before leaning against the countertop again.

“Oh. I just meant that I plan to fuck you until the birds sing. I don’t want you getting tired on me before I’m done with you.”

His favorite past time was saying the wildest things he could come up with to her in the simplest voice possible and then watching the way it made her eyes bulge in her sockets. God he loved it.

This time she simply stuffed a breadstick in her mouth and hopped out of her seat to start taking her jacket off. It seemed she might be just as needy as he was.

“Yep! Okay. You can come get it now!”

“I’m comin’, baby.” He grinned lifting her up into his arms.

“Goddammit. Carbs and dick. It’s like my birthday or something!”

His bedroom is way too far away. They’ve gotta figure out a way to get there quicker. But he chuckles into her cleavage as he knocks them against walls to stop and kiss her. Her thighs mold to his waist, ass full in his hands. He’s stuck on her completely. And the worst part is that she knows it.

He lets her legs back down to the floor only to press her against the wall of his bedroom, lips, teeth, and tongue beginning a trail along her neck.

“You make me never wanna go back to go work ever again.” She whined, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’d happily quit if we could stay in bed for the rest of forever.” He murmured.

“Don’t tempt me!”

Maybe he would.

“Mmmm speaking of work, how hard you gonna make my job for me this fall?” He hummed biting down on her lip to solicit a yelp that drove him crazy.

“What do you mean?” She asked, fingers already tugging at his belt.

“I’m supposed to believe Normani’s not releasing an album before awards season?”

Her fingers came to a stuttering stop, and he recognized that her kisses weren’t really kisses anymore. His eyes opened to meet hers and instead of the lust from just moments prior, there was...anger?

“What the fuck, Shawn?”

“W--What? What?” He mumbled reaching for her as she quickly stepped out of his arms.

“Why would you ask me that? Since when the hell do you care when my artists release music?”

He’s a little flustered and his dick is hard and her yelling at him when his dick is hard is only just adding to the complex array of emotions that his brain would surely need more blood to process.

“I--I don’t know! I thought that’s what couples did right? Like they--they ask each other about work and shit. What did I do?”

“Couples?” She paused, all of the steam leaving her like a deflated balloon. “Are we--we’re a couple?”

At this point he’s pretty sure she’s gonna give him a heart attack.

“I….Aren’t we?”

“I--I don’t know. I don’t know, we’ve only been on one fucking date, Shawn. And just because it was wonderful and beautiful and romantic doesn’t mean that you get to ask me questions like that. I just… Shit. I need space.”

“Space?”

His heart leapt a little in his chest. He’d said that word before. “Space”. When people said they needed space it always meant permanent. It meant separation. It meant losing her. And the effect that her words have on him is a little surprising, even though he’s not processing nearly fast enough to catch on. All he can hear, feel, think, breathe is her not wanting him. And in this moment of fragility for him he’s not quite sure how to cope.

“Wait. Just wait a second. I don’t even know what’s happening right now!” He cried his hands held up in surrender. “Let’s just talk. Let’s just talk for a second okay? Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”

“No. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m going home. I--I’lll call you later.”

She sweeps right past him, her fingers re-buttoning the same buttons she had giggled when he’d undone just seconds ago. He’s so floored by what’s taking place and he’s got no idea how to fix it. How to make her happy. He just wants to make her happy. And he doesn’t want her to go.

“Y/n. Y/n, please? Alright, just talk to me.”

Her fingers slip through his when he reaches for her and just like that she’s gone. And it hurts. It hurts far more than he knows what to do with. What the fuck?

***

*Three days later*

*y/n’s point of view*

A foul mood did not begin to describe what you were in. Everyone had been steering completely clear of you and rightfully so. Anyone who dare breathe wrong in your direction would get an earful. It wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t exactly been sleeping well. Your stomach was in knots. You were stressed as hell. But, none of that was allowed to matter. You had work to do. So, everything else got placed on the backburner.

You’re in your office taking a twenty minute “get your shit together bitch” break when a knock sounds itself on your door. Tiana had been the only one with balls to knock on the door in days, so you had no doubt who it could be.

“Come in, Ti.” You sighed still leaning pathetically across your desk.

The door slides open and unless Tiana grew several feet and turned into a white man over night, it was certainly not your assistant standing there.

“Hi.” Shawn mumbled waving awkwardly in your direction.

He was in a suit again. But not one of the ones from the red carpet that would make your thighs tremble. This must be one of his work ones. It looks too restrictive on his body. He’s wearing a tie, and your fingers itch to remove it, to dishevel him back into the man that you knew. The worst part is that even in discomfort he doesn’t look real. He looks like an ad standing there at your doorway. An absolute vision to behold. You had to remind yourself that you were angry at him.

“How did you--What are you doing here? Shawn?”

He quickly closed the door and strode over to you, at least having the good grace to keep his distance to the chair in front of your desk.

“You didn’t answer any of my calls. Which is fine I guess. I get that maybe you need space but...I really hate what’s going on between us right now.” He mumbled.

His knee is bouncing. You only recognize this because it shakes your desk in a gentle hum. His fingers twist and turn anxiously on your desk as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch your hand. His lips are stress bitten and his hair looks like it’s been the victim of an attack as well.

“Really?” You asked, leaning back slighting your chair in confusion.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, really. What did you think I was just out living my best life since you stormed out of my apartment at one am without a word and ignored me for three days?”

“No, I just...I just didn’t realize it would have this great of an effect on you. I guess I--I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“You didn’t know that I care that much? What the hell, y/n?” He groaned. “Why are you doing this right now?”

“Doing what?! What am I doing?”

“You’re pulling away. We sat there in Rome and you asked me to promise you that I was all in. And I am. And now you’re scared, is that it? You don’t know what it might look like for us to be together in the real world, so you’re pulling away from me.”

Well that was certainly a read. You were flustered. Your lips opened and shut around nothing but air as you sat there at a loss for words. It wasn’t conscious, or maybe on some level it was, but Shawn scared the hell out of you. Rome was a beautiful, beautiful bubble, but a bubble nonetheless. The second you got back to New York you couldn’t help but wonder if it would actually work a tall. You were still so different. And much as you liked him, and shit you really fucking liked him, it was terrifying to place yourself into new charted territory. You were scared of him. Of the two of you together. Of what it could mean. And he never even needed you to say it, he just knew it about you instantly.

“Look,” He sighed. “I still don’t really know what I did wrong. I know I probably sound like I’m being a little bitch right now but...shit y/n I just got you and I feel like I’m losing you already. Like you’re not even gonna give me a chance to try to make you happy. Is that how it’s gonna be? Cause if it is just tell me okay? Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t...I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know.” You mumbled

The look that he gives you tells you that this hurts him. That you not being a hundred percent in is painful. Everything was just moving so incredibly fast. One second you couldn’t fathom the idea that Shawn would even want to do more than fuck you, let alone be leading the charge your relationship. It was fast. All of it. And you? You were scared.

“Okay. Well I guess just call me when you figure it out.”

He got out of his seat and headed for the door only throwing you further off your game. You didn’t know much about what you wanted. You just knew that you didn’t want him mad at you, and you didn’t want him to leave. It didn’t help that a part of you felt like you should be leading this matter. You were older, you were the woman. Never had anyone cornered you in the manner that Shawn was in this moment. It was completely different than anything you’d ever experienced.

“Wait--shit. Shawn don’t leave.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re not ready, and I was. Just…Call when you figure things out. Maybe I’ll talk to you later.”

And just like that he’s gone. Fuck.

***

It’s another long night. You’re tired. You’re heart is heavy. Your ponytail is too tight. And you wanna go to bed. But you have no interest in sleeping alone, and therefore are stuck at your desk again. There’s three different contracts waiting your signature on your desk, but the words have begun to blur. You tell yourself it’s not because you’re crying because you definitely aren’t. It’s just cause you’re tired. Yes.

“Hey, it’s late I’m gonna---oh lord. I haven’t seen you cry since Michelle Obama smiled at you on a red carpet.” Tianna gasped.

You sniffled. “Bitch I am not crying. Go home.”

She rolled her eyes. “Denial or delusion. Your favorite pastimes. Come tell Titi what’s wrong while I’m still awake.”

She plopped herself in the chair opposite your desk and reached for the tissues on your desk to hand to you. You take one begrudgingly.

“You haven’t let me call you Titi since college.”

“Of course I haven’t, “She giggled. “What kind of grown ass woman walks around goin’ by Titi. Now stop deflecting.”

Best friends are no good. They know you too well. It makes it way too hard to hide.

“I….I think I fucked things up.”

“With Shawn you mean?”

You nod slowly.

“Yea, I saw him come out of your office lookin’ like a kicked puppy. I couldn't even get him to laugh for me before he left. You never really said what happened though.” She nudged gently.

A sigh passes through your lips that feels bone deep. Your fingers twitch anxiously against the desk. There’s nowhere to hide here. You just have to be truthful. It’s the worst.

“We...We decided to give it a go. And he took me to Rome, as your meddling ass knows, and it was the most amazing thing I could experience. It was everything I ever thought it would be but...he made it more. And I kept thinking that he was going to stop at some point. I don’t know I thought surely it was gonna work, because how could it you know?”

“No, not quite sis. I don’t know. Maybe you can explain it to me.”

You bite your lip and twitch anxiously.

“I asked him in Rome one of our last nights there if he was gonna be all in. We talked about race and white supremacy and I told him that I needed someone who could stand with me in all of it, not just when it is convenient.”

“And he said…?”

“Well the fucker said yes.” You huffed. “He promised it even.”

“Shit.” Tiana mumbled taking a pause herself. “I would’ve never called Shawn Mendes to be a social justice warrior.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s far from it, now. He’s still a white boy. But he wanted to try. He was willing to try for me.”

“So you can see how maybe I’m missing the part where you fucked up. This sounds a little like a black girl’s love story come true.”

“I went over to his place and he offered me breadsticks and dick, in that order. But then when we were getting to it, he asked me about Normani, Ti. He asked if I was going to ‘make his job harder for him’ by having her release her album before award season.”

“Oh lord, that poor bastard didn’t even know what hit him.” She sighed.

“I’m serious Ti!” You groaned. “I’ve been here before. I’ve had the music exec who wanted to get into my pants just to know what we were doing in this building. I--I can’t go back there. You and I both know that there’s nothing Manny Mendes would love to see more than one his little white girls on top and my people failing on the bottom of the totem pole. We work too goddamn hard for me to lose it.”

Tiana paused for a minute and stared at you. Her eyes were soul searching, the way they tended to be. She was as lovely and amazing as she was terrifying. She knew you better than you knew yourself, and she never hesitated to call you on your bullshit. Even if you didn’t know it was bullshit. Especially when you didn’t know it was bullshit.

“Girl, I love you more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life, but you are truly exhausting.” She sighed and held her hand up as a means to silence you before you even spoke. “Now if you’re not ready for someone to potentially love and take care of you that’s one thing. But if you are intentionally sabotaging yourself because you’re scared you gotta knock it the fuck off.”

“But Ti--”

“No, ma’am. If that boy wanted to know when Normani’s album was dropping he did not need to take your ass to Rome to do it. You have been scorned by this industry more than most will ever recognize, and I know that, and I validate that. But you ain’t in a relationship with Manny Mendes. You’re not in a relationship with the industry. It’s Shawn. And that man hates his dad and his dad’s company more than you do. I love you, but you’re being a bit ridiculous.”

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed.” She hummed. “You keep doing this. You keep letting outside factors affect everything, and that’s not sustainable. You have to trust him. He has to trust you. That’s the only way it works.”

You peered at her with tired eyes. The kind of eyes that a woman who’d been scorned one time too many might have.

“But what if he hurts me?”

“Than we pick up the pieces. We work at it until your healed. But you don’t get the love without faith. You’ve got to put yourself out there, babe.”

And that is of course how you end up at his place at midnight on Friday nonetheless. Ti had practically ushered you off, offering to close up shop for the night if it meant you would finally leave the office. You’re still in your work jumpsuit with the too tight ponytail and the makeup that you couldn’t wait to take off. The code lets you easily without having to let him know that you’re there. Perhaps that’s why you finally get to hear him this time.

The doors of his fancy apparently are surely made of thicker wood, so he must be sitting right inside the living room. Regardless you hear it in this soft, muted kind of way. It’s an acoustic guitar, the plucking of his fingers just as rounded and full. It’s beautiful and rhythmic and it makes you pause, your fingers still resting on the door knob because then the mother fucker starts to sing.

Maybe I had too many drinks, but that's just what I needed

I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited

When I look across the room and you're staring right back at me

Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

You’re fingers grip tight at the door knob, you’re mind both seemingly filled with a million thoughts and yet too overwhelmed to process any of it. His door is unlocked though and when you stumble inside the vision in your head comes to life. He’s sat on his floor by the fireplace with a guitar you’ve never seen upon his lap. He’s wearing a white tanktop and black sweats. The rosary against his neck nestles against what looks like perfectly tamed chest hair. He is as unreal as ever. And yet somehow, somehow that is not the most astonishing part of everything around you in this moment.

He pops his head up towards you. His fingers don’t still on the guitar at all as he seems to pluck out the melody he’d sung just moments prior.

“Took you long enough. Almost like you were outside eavesdropping or something.” He hummed.

“I...How did you even know I was outside?” You stuttered.

“I get an alert every time someone enters my code. I don’t just wait around for you all the time ya know.”

Rude.

“You...You sing.”

He peered at you, fingers still moving, his head tilted just slightly to the side as if you were as confusing to him as he was to you.

“I sing.” He affirmed. “Is that okay?”

“How come--I mean you never said anything.” You frowned. “That--That song. You wrote that?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve been given a bit of inspiration lately. Is that what you came here for? To bust me in my hobby?”

This changes things. And surely it wouldn’t have mattered because Ti’ had already convinced you to suck it the fuck up and come over, but the fact that he’s got music in him and never said anything matters. Because there’s a lot he could have asked for. A lot he could have tried to get from you, and he hadn’t. It really didn’t matter to him at all. You were just a fucking asshole.

It occurred to you that you were still standing in the middle of his doorway, so you closed the door and moved slowly near him. He set his guitar off to the side as you plopped one of his decorative pillows in the spot beside him and sat down. Without his guitar, Shawn was a lot more fidgety. He took to playing with his rings on his fingers again, eyes soft and vulnerable pointed in your direction.

“So...Is this it? You come here to end it?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “No. I came here to apologize.”

His eyes flickered up to your face, a hint of hesitance to them.

“I’ve never heard you apologize in my life.”

You rolled your eyes and punched playfully at his arm, the chiseled muscle probably hurting you more than it hurt him. He wasn’t wrong.

“The truth is...When you asked me about Normani’s release I didn’t think of it as you wanting to know about my day. I didn’t think about it as you wanting to be kind to me at all. I sort of, maybe thought you were snooping trying to figure out a way that you could hurt me.” You admitted softly. “Because--well because that’s what I’ve experienced in the past. And that’s not an excuse but it just is...it’s what I was feeling.”

He squinted his nose up and it would’ve been cute had you not been so flustered.

“Wait, you thought I was gonna hurt you? How?” He asked turning more in your direction.

You winced. “Like...by maybe taking it to your dad. Knowing whether or not Normani’s gonna release would be really beneficial to him.”

There’s a range of emotions that cover his face. First confusion. Then acceptance. And then anger.

“Why would I ever do that to you? What have I ever said or done to make you think that I would choose allegiance to my dad of all people over you. I hate my job, y/n. I hate that company. You know that better than just about anyone.”

“I know! I know that. I just--fuck. You scare me okay!” You whined. “I haven’t been in a healthy relationship in years. I’ve been fucked over in my job, in my relationships, in life constantly. And I didn’t exactly walking into our arrangement expecting to find a relationship. I don’t know how to do this, Shawn. I don’t--I’m not sure I truly deserve it.”

You glanced down at the floor in worry and fear. You wanted it. God, you really wanted it. But, shit if you weren’t terrified to try.

When he crawls into your lap, you’re a little taken aback. For how tall that fucker is, he certainly could use an extra meal or two. But, there’s something about the reversal of his thighs bracketing your hips the way that yours would usually do to his. There’s something about the way his thumb soothes at your pulse point as his fingers rest on either side of your neck. There’s something about the way that he looks at you with tenderness and kindness. It’s a little unlike anything you’d ever quite felt before. And it makes you soften beneath him with ease, all the fire running out of you at once.

“You are...the most hard headed woman I’ve ever met.” He mumbled softly.

You smiled sheepishly. “That’s what my momma’s been telling me since I was born.”

“Well she’s right. But I’m kind of crazy about you. And I don’t like fighting with you. And I don’t like being mad at you, or you being mad at me. I just want to make you happy. This is the first time in my life where I feel like I can make some good out of anything. You feel...right. I like you, and I want to take care of you, and I’d like to have something where we can both give each other that. I’m just as scared as you are, okay? I don’t fucking know what I’m doing either. But I wanna try. Do you?”

Was it really that simple? Could it be that simple?

“I do. I really do.” You whispered.

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear. C’mere.”

For him, it could be.

His fingers knot in your ponytail and he tugs your lips to his with zero hesitation. After a shitty week of back and forth it feels good to not have to think for a while, to let his lips work over yours. He’s dominant even here with his tongue and his hands and his hips. He could’ve made it soft and gentle, but that’s not really what the two of you were about. Or was it?

“I’ve got leftovers in my fridge.” He murmured running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Did you eat dinner?”

You shake your head softly and he quickly climbs off your lap to tug you towards the kitchen. It doesn’t go unnoticed to you that his guitar stays behind in the living room.

“Are we ever gonna talk about the singing thing?”

“Maybe let’s do one heavy thing at a time, aye? I’ll tell you sometime. I promise. For now, do you want egg drop soup or pasta?”

You climbed into your seat at his kitchen counter and quickly tugged at your jacket and ponytail holder.

“Pasta. And one of these days I’m gonna teach your pasty ass how to cook.”

“Sure thing, babe.” He snorted. “I look forward to it.”

***

Permanent taglist

@simpledomain @liliane106 @sinplisticshawn @xeuphorically-moonstruck@euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bruhh-whateven@justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi@september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose@justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @bitchacho25 @sinplisticshawn@thecurlsofgod @lifeoftheparty74 @kamahriii

Arrangement Taglist:

@moonlightmendes22 @iloveshawnieboi@shawnsblue @cottoncandyshawn

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @shawnase@blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp@ydolansss

#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes x you #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x black reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn #Arrangement fic #Shawn mendes x thick reader #Shawn mendes x black woman

237 notes · View notes

countryoilmama · 4 years

Text

Doctors are for sick people

Yes I had the regular pap smears and mamograms after my mom died of breast cancer but I don’t believe in going to the doctor for stuffy noses and sore throats besides which I was rarely sick and nothing a couple of shots of elderberry syrup or extra vitamin C wouldn’t take care of in a day or two. My story starts here, we went on a motorcycle trip to Sturgis (it’s a yearly trip for us) and my tailbone was sore with what I figured was a cyst of some sort and would get better with some over the counter Prid. When we returned home, we were working to finish a rental house and I didn’t think much about it (it popped I know gross) and I went on with working and life it felt better. I also had a hernia didn’t hurt but was sure ugly. In March we finished the house, everything was rented and I figured it was time have my hernia fixed. Well as you are all well aware then COVID hit, no elective surgeries. So I waited, in May when they were doing elective surgeries I made a doctors appointment at a new clinic in town. The doctor although seemingly knowledgeable had a terrible bedside manner. She had me lay on a table took one look at my stomach and sent me off for blood work and an ultrasound. Then brought me right back and informed me of 2 things...One my sodium level in my blood was so low I shouldn’t drive, walk or anything else it was very dangerous and I needed to go to a hospital right then and 2 I had cancer. Well, I know enough to know you can’t diagnose cancer with an ultrasound and also I felt fine I wasn’t dizzy, no blurry vision, my skin wasn’t yellow, I didn’t need to go to a hospital right now. I came home and made an appointment at a UNMC clinic for the next week. I went to the appointment,same blood work, same examination he thought I needed a CT scan of my liver. Words like cirrhosis were used and so many questions about my drinking habits. Now I was known to tie one in in my late 20′s and early 30′s but not like he was suggesting. We set up the CT scan and I left the office. Later that evening around 9:30 he called and infomed me I needed to go to the hospital right then my sodium was dangerously low, I was not going to UNMC or any other hospital emergency room at 9:30 at night.Yikes! I assured him I would go first thing in the morning, he wasn’t happy but agreed. At 8:00 am May 19th I was dropped of at the UNMC emergency room (no visitor policy in place at all hospitals which really sucked for both of us) I was shown to a room, put in a gown, and hooked up to a sodium IV. Well that IV raised my sodium to fast which is also extremely dangerous. They then while they had me did my CT scan. About an hour later, I got the words YOU HAVE CANCER my response was what do we do now. I think this young ER doctor was taken back by my respone, he wanted to show me my scans, talk about my feelings and I wanted a plan. I am a doer and a fighter not a dweller. That phone call to my honey was hard, he wanted to be with me and I needed him, but he said all the right words and reminded me we are better together, we would get through this. I was admitted taken to the Buffett Cancer Center and I was absolutlely in the right place. I was scheduled for biopsies the next day a liver biposy in the Morning and a Rectal biopsy at 5:00 that meant no food and no drink from mignight the night before. Needless to say it was a long day. But I made it. I met my oncologist who I couldn’t be happier with but we had to get a few things straight. 1. I wasn’t a sick person and Cancer wouldn’t define me 2. I had way to much to live for. I have a great life, one that I fought for and deserve and I would fight this with everything in me 3 I was a doer, I needed a plan and she had one (but even the best laid plans change) 4. I would also be looking into alternative treatments. Her response I can appreciate that but I would just ask you let me know what you are doing and I won’t give an opinion unless you ask for it. I wasn’t asking. I was scheduled to have my port placed Wednesday May 27th and start my chemo Friday May 29th. So with that settled they were still fighting my sodium issue and had to take to salt pills which made my legs swell almost immediately which in turn made it hard to walk, move around and I am not a sitter., On Thursday May 21st every doctor on my team visited me and I told them all the same thing I would be home by dinner and they needed to make it happen they all agreed I was the captain of the ship (a really important lesson), they weren’t doing anything for me I couldn’t do at home and a holiday weekend was approaching and I wanted to be home. Needless to say, I was home by dinner. On that third day in the hospital my oncolgist came to see me to let me know, the type of cancer they thought I had was not what I had. I had a fast growing, fast spreading, rare cancer (less than 40,000 people in the worlk have this cancer) Of course I did, there isn’t much ordinary or normal about me. LOL My response was the same “ok then what’s the plan” and she had one. Until next time....Always DREAM BIG!

1 note · View note

anonymoustalks · 4 years

Text

They also didn't want me to speak Korean outside of the house because "in America you speak only English."

(6-17-20) You both like Politics.

You: hi

Stranger: Hello

You: What is something important to you?

Stranger: My job.

You: Mhm how so?

Stranger: Because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to buy a house, save money, and have dinner every night.

You: Very reasonable

You: and grounded

Stranger: Considering that I grew up low-income, it only makes sense that I skimp and save.

You: ah yeah, that helps gives perspective for sure

Stranger: All I can really say is not having food every day isn't fun.

You: Mhm did you grow up not being able to eat every day?

Stranger: Yes.

You: What was that like?

Stranger: Hell.

You: Yeah I can imagine

Stranger: The savior was USDA subsidized cheese.

You: are you us-based?

Stranger: I was. I relocated to South Korea in 2007.

You: mhm was the food insecurity in the SU or south korea?

Stranger: The US.

You: where were you specifically, if you don't mind me asking?

Stranger: Detroit until I was 8, Denver from 8-22.

You: mhm

Stranger: You couldn't pay me to move back to the US, in spite of the fact that my parents always insisted that it was better than Korea.

You: Mhm I'd love to hear anything that you're willing to share

Stranger: Well, what do you want to hear?

You: well, everything lol

You: but I guess we don't have time lol

Stranger: What parts do you want to hear?

You: I never personally experienced food insecurity

You: or the circumstances around that

You: and what your family did

You: and I guess why you moved

Stranger: Food insecurity is hell. My parents simply lived with it and ignored it.

You: as context, I'm guessing your family were immigrants?

Stranger: I moved for job security and so I wouldn't face discrimination in the US. Yes, they immigrated from Korea.

You: mhm

You: I'm not really that familiar with detroit and things, but I feel like the naive question I'm sure you get is what about food banks?

You: or other stuff

Stranger: Not a thing back in 1980s/90s Detroit outside of churches, which my parents stayed away from.

You: ahh I didn't know

You: so I'm guessing subsidized school lunches probably also weren't a thing?

Stranger: Those were, but my parents didn't apply for those until we moved to Denver.

You: sounds really rough

Stranger: They didn't apply mostly for fear of deportation

You: undocumented?

Stranger: They were documented, the documentation wasn't always fully valid.

You: ah..

You: student visa?

Stranger: Green cards.

You: mhm I guess it's just so different it's hard for me to imagine

Stranger: Needless to say, people who work on private railyards don't make much.

You: my goodness

Stranger: About 50 cents an hour back in the 80s and 90s.

You: yeah... I just can't imagine

You: how did your family end up moving to denver?

Stranger: My father's job at the railyard was replaced by a sensor and they were concerned that Detroit was becoming too unsafe.

You: mhm this was the big crime era too?

Stranger: Yes. And we lived in a housing project that was effectively where you went to buy drugs or die.

You: buy drugs or die?

Stranger: Lot of dealers, criminals, and bait apartments in there.

You: okay, was just slightly confused about the wording if they made you buy or something

Stranger: The people in the apartment next to us were dealers.

You: mhm

Stranger: The Detroit PD raided the wrong unit, not theirs.

You: .......

Stranger: And that's why I don't respect the Detroit PD.

You: yeah that's terrible

Stranger: We did get money from them after it was found that they broke the most expensive thing in the apartment.

You: it's just so hard for me to imagine what your parents went through

You: coming to the US

You: and all of this

Stranger: I can provide some more insight if you'd like.

You: anything you want to share is good

Stranger: They had this twisted perspective on American customs and holidays.

You: meaning?

Stranger: They didn't get any of them per-se "right."

You: huh

Stranger: Xmas? Get up at 5 AM and eat a pack of Twinkies. "We're going to work."

Stranger: New year's? Get up at 5 AM and eat nothing. "We're going to work"

Stranger: They also told me to not get good grades, because "Americans don't"

You: huh that's unexpected to me...

Stranger: I got all A+s on the report cards, and even skipped a lot of grades after moving to Denver.

You: mhm good for you!

Stranger: They also didn't want me to speak Korean outside of the house because "in America you speak only English."

You: I'm trying to imagine things through their eyes

Stranger: What are you effectively seeing?

You: uhh very poor, desperate, scared

Stranger: That about summed them up.

You: yeah.

Stranger: Even now, they refuse help from me.

You: mhm... that sounds kinda vaguely asian

You: are they still in the us?

Stranger: Yes.

Stranger: Still living in Denver, too.

You: what did they do in denver?

Stranger: My mother is a cashier at a Wal-Mart, and my father is a gun salesman, since he became a citizen in 2012.

You: mhm

Stranger: They did let me pay off their mortgage in 2011, though.

You: oh that's good

You: I can imagine your parents being very proud of you

You: are you an only child or with siblings?

Stranger: I'm an only child.

Stranger: I doubt they could ever afford a second.

You: right

Stranger: Hell, they were still paying down the bill from my birth until I was 10.

You: yeah asian-american poverty is just something I'm so removed from it's just I don't even know what to say

Stranger: That was back when Koreans were below Hispanics on the social ladder

You: right... I didn't realize detroit or denver had any kind of korean population

Stranger: Not really, they just ended up in those places because there were jobs.

You: mhm

You: so you went through school in denver, graduated, did college, and then moved to korea?

Stranger: I went through high school in Denver, graduated, college fast-tracked from age 14, medical school from 16-22. Then got the hell out of the US.

You: oh my goodness that's incredible

Stranger: I started high school at age 8 due to the district insisting on testing me.

You: yeah um I didn't even realize that kind of thing was possible

Stranger: It is, and its just not common

Stranger: I learned a lot from the books my parents had around the apartment.

You: yeah

Stranger: Since all that they had were my father's textbooks from college and a few legal help books.

Stranger: And operating manuals, and legal documentation.

You: mhm it just sounds like such a whirlwind of stuff to go through

You: anyhow what brings you to the politics tag?

Stranger: I like politics, always have.

You: on omegle? haha ^^

Stranger: I like most politics.

You: ^^ I guess I would have imagined that most ordinary ppl who like politics would be on reddit I guess or something

You: unless they have something strange going for them lol

Stranger: I have nothing going for me politics-wise.

You: hm, but other things?

You: sorry if I'm prying

Stranger: In the medical field, yes.

You: huh?

Stranger: I'm a general practitioner, and a tenured one at that, so I'm among the ~150 important people at the KCDC.

You: oh what I meant is that I'm just surprised someone like you would be on omegle that's all haha ^^

You: since we're pretty trashy here haha

Stranger: Nowhere near as trashy as other people I've encountered

You: mhm maybe

Stranger: Namely the Detroit police department SWAT team

You: >.<

You: so do you have a list of political issues you care about the most?

Stranger: Yeah, mostly not defunding the KCDC.

You: do you get a lot of koreans on omegle?

Stranger: No, I've never encountered another Korean.

You: oh okay

You: yeah I don't think I've ever run into anyone from east asia

You: many from india though

Stranger: In case you're wondering, the KCDC is basically Korea's healthcare provider, and disease/drug regulator.

You: yeah I googled it

You: I thought korea did very well with coronavirus testing

Stranger: We did.

You: why are they trying to defund you?

Stranger: Because they want to stop covering things that many Koreans rely on, such as vision coverage (I benefit from it), as well as coverage of OTC drugs in hospitals.

You: hmm how is there not popular backlash?

You: I thought there was a general political adage that it's easy to give benefits, but hard to repeal them

Stranger: They've kept it under wraps by putting funding changes in fine print.

You: funding charges as in...?

Stranger: Funneling the money into reserves.

You: oh okay, it might be a bit over my head ^^

Stranger: Basically, the KCDC is funded in USD, so we can buy equipment without exchange rate issues, and they view the USD as a finite recourse. Its not, since saving it depreciates the value for us long-term.

You: huuh I didn't know that at all

Stranger: Meanwhile, I have to fight with a government-paid vision provider to get my new glasses.

You: btw why did your parents dislike korea so much?

Stranger: Korea was different in the 70s and 80s. The leaders were totalitarians mostly installed by the US. The economy was garbage, and it was impossible to get a stable job outside of manufacturing or the armed forces.

You: ah okay, thanks for the summary

Stranger: They were middle class in Korea, too. And they left that all for the US.

You: yeah... I didn't realize the exchange rate was so steep back then too

Stranger: Most of the reason they were poor in the US was because of their limited English.

You: Ah okay

You: What kind of conversations do you normally get into here on omegle?

Stranger: Usually something that ends with "the US owns Korea."

You: what?

Stranger: The Republicans in the US have this twisted idea that America owns Korea.

You: huh

You: and you enjoy talking to people like that?

Stranger: No, but I like trying to talk sense into them.

You: ^^;; it sounds like quite an argument

Stranger: And its hilarious to me.

You: ah yeah, I guess people do like the amusement

Stranger: I have spat out coffee laughing at their stupidity.

You: I think people come from very different places ^^

Stranger: To some of them its a foreign concept that people can make more money in countries other than the US.

You: I think it depends in part on people's skill sets

Stranger: They also don't understand how foreign currency works, since, sometimes if they ask about my pay, I give it to them in KRW.

You: lol

Stranger: They think I'm lying because the number in KRW exceeds 350 billion

Stranger: KRW is counted in a strange manner.

You: hm? how so?

Stranger: 1,000 KRW= 1 USD (one cheap meal). 100 KRW= 10 cents (which is the same cost as a burger here), 10 KRW= 1 cent (half a bottle of cola).

Stranger: You have to know it to recognize it on site.

You: huh...

Stranger: We make western money but don't pay western prices.

You: I'm just slightly confused basically

Stranger: McDonald's is expensive here, with a meal being $8.

Stranger: The only things that really cost western prices are, well... western things.

You: mhm right

You: I feel like cost-of-living in different places is always a little hard for me to grasp

Stranger: I find it amazing that Coke is considered the cheap beverage here and in the US

You: I have a suspicion that in many circumstances people are just buying the bottle

Stranger: Still, I have always viewed it as expensive.

You: I mean if you look at the price of a 2L bottle versus a small bottle?

Stranger: Yes, but, still, too pricey when I was young.

You: the drink itself must be inexpensive to manufacture

You: but the retail price is elevated substantially

Stranger: My parents always viewed it as "why spend a buck on a 2L when Faygo is 75 cents, we can barely afford it as is"

Stranger: Which ingrained it as being a luxury product in my mind

You: lol

You: idk it's cheaper than milk, juice... so many things

You: I feel like it must be bad for public health

Stranger: Faygo is and always has been cheaper

Stranger: Probably because of competition

You: oh we don't have them here

Stranger: Faygo is highly regionalized to Detroit.

You: not distributed in my area

Stranger: In fairness, it helps the cost when its bottled a few blocks from the grocer.

You: I guess that's true

You: but there are always discount soft drink brands too

You: although I was never pressed enough at cash to really look very hard at the difference between a dollar or like 90 cents...

Stranger: My parents had to look carefully at those prices

You: yeah

Stranger: What would be 45 minutes in the grocer for a person who can grab-and-go items would be 1-2 hours for us.

You: mhm

Stranger: Which is why I buy the same three things at the grocer, so I don't need to price compare

You: mhm I feel spoiled because I don't really do much coupon shopping

Stranger: For what its worth, they did get the one symbol of wealth that Korean-Americans viewed as a symbol of wealth at the time.

You: which was?

Stranger: Color television set.

You: oh

You: I think you are around a decade older than me so it's hard for me to compare and contrast

Stranger: I'm 35.

You: yup

Stranger: So, I have faint memories of the 1980s.

You: I was born int he 90's

Stranger: The 90s were a good time.

You: I have faint memories of the 90's lol ^^

Stranger: That was when we got a computer

You: sounds about right

Stranger: My uncle imported KDS systems to the US, so we got that for free.

You: huh

Stranger: KDS became Emachines, a company you might have heard of

You: nope!

Stranger: Your household probably didn't have to buy whatever the cheapest system at Wal-Mart was.

You: uhh I think our first computer was some form of macintosh

Stranger: Which are systems for the wealthy next to Korean imports.

You: yeah it's really interesting to look back at this stuff

Stranger: I sometimes wish I could go back in time, but then I realize that'd effectively be starting from scratch.

You: uh yeah, that doesn't sound very fun

Stranger: There's no real reason to look back on the past for me.

You: yeah I don't really look back this far normally either

You: do you still speak much english in everyday life btw?

Stranger: Yes, on a daily basis. To the point where I still sound American when I speak it.

You: Oh I didn't know that

Stranger: I have no issues with speaking either language, luckily.

You: mhm that really helps

You: how is your social life?

Stranger: Basically zero friends in Korea.

You: aww...

You: is there like a barrier?

You: being foreign or something?

Stranger: No, since I am not foreign in the eyes of either the Korean government nor the people.

You: ah, so you're just saying it's just you? ^^

Stranger: Yes.

You: introverted?

Stranger: Yes.

You: mhm I wish you the best!

Stranger: My parents weren't too hot on the idea of me ever having friends.

You: oh...

You: you're not around them anymroe!

You: seriously, are you doing okay?

Stranger: I'm doing fine.

You: okay ^^

You: I think it's different to be happy and introverted vs. unhappy and introverted, if you know what I mean

Stranger: Not to mention, after I moved to Denver, it became harder to make friends.

You: hm, why?

Stranger: I was 8 and in high school. Take a guess.

You: ah...

You: yeah that threw me for a loop

You: ordinarily I thought most school systems didn't allow their kids to skip too far for well... I guess social reasons?

You: idk if things changed or how things happen on way or another

Stranger: And being Korean in a majority hispanic school didn't help, either.

You: mhm

Stranger: Since that was basically right after the LA riots, which made Koreans and hispanics hate each other.

You: right...

Stranger: I did get bullied for that.

You: :c

Stranger: Metal lunch trays don't feel too good in the back of the head

You: that's terrible

Stranger: And neither does getting tied to a chair with an extension cord

You: I just can't imagine

You: people just...

Stranger: You'd think they'd show mercy on someone effectively half their age and size.

You: yeah

You: also for some reason I thought of denver as kind of like a progressive white place

You: but idk if that's just more recently

Stranger: That's modern Denver.

You: yeah

Stranger: Back then it was a rougher place.

You: mhm

You: I think you have so much in your past

You: it's a lot

Stranger: A lot of people do.

You: mhm

Stranger: Not everyone can have a pretty story filled with bubblegum and rainbows.

You: yeah...

You: it's just sad

You: or well, so many things that America turns a blind eye too

You: even now

You: a kind of semi-willful ignorance

You: in favor of narratives I guess

Stranger: It would've been nice if I didn't have to carry a revolver everywhere.

You: huh you were licensed to carry as a kid?

Stranger: From when I was 18.

You: mhm

Stranger: My parents made me get licensed out of pure fear.

You: mhm

You: idk if it's your generation, your family's socioeconomic status, location, or all of the above, but your story is just so much more raw and dramatic than those of other asian americans I've heard

Stranger: Probably a mix.

Stranger: My experiences are in-line with your average LA Korean in the early 90s.

You: right

You: I just didn't know the differences could be so stark through one or two generations

Stranger: Well, remember, a riot happened that moved the Koreans up the ladder.

You: yeah

You: or maybe there's a rift between asian americans who were hear longer versus the large influx that came in the 90s

Stranger: Probably that, since not a lot came in the 80s.

You: yeah

Stranger: I remember the first time I visited Korea, it was like a different planet.

You: mhm

You: (not that I have any idea lol XD)

Stranger: My uncle took me to Seoul in 1995, which was when I realized that Korea wasn't what my parents made it out to be (they made it out to effectively be a 3rd world country).

You: mhm

Stranger: I'd say it was that visit that made me want to leave the US

You: you went through a lot

Stranger: I do consider some of it to be a lot.

You: have you ever thought about writing it up?

You: idk assembling it into a narrative of some kind?

Stranger: I have, but I'm not comfortable with it being on paper beyond legal documents.

You: mhm okay yeah

Stranger: For example, in the file cabinet next to me I have every single even slightly legal document from when I was born until I was 30.

You: mhm... I should do a better job of getting my paperwork together

Stranger: Just opening it, there's three folders of medical papers.

You: hospital?

Stranger: No, at home. The folders even include every payment on every medical bill from back then.

You: ah I meant, you were hospitalized often?

Stranger: No. Mostly just payments from my birth, as well as vision.

You: mhm

Stranger: The vision papers are expansive.

You: right

Stranger: Considering that I've needed to wear glasses since I was 2.

You: what??

Stranger: Effectively, my vision is garbage, and has been ever since.

You: so it's getting really late for me, but I wanted to thank you for sharing everything that you did ^^

Stranger: Have a nice night.

You: thank you!

You: best of luck with everything and I hope you're able to make more friends!

Stranger has disconnected.

#omegle #race #racism #korean american #korea #food insecurity #immigrant #asian american #bullying #medicine #kcdc #guns

2 notes · View notes