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delphoxqueen · 2 years

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Draculaura’s Diary- Wave 2 (2010)

{Go to the bottom of the post for the actual Diary images}

This Diary Belongs to:

Draculaura

Volume one thousand five hundred and ninety-nine… and 7/8

Name: Draculaura

School: Monster High

Note to self, when looking for a midnight snack- Do not open Dad’s side of the fridge!

Honestly, I think some of his takeout has been in there for weeks.

15♥September

I “broke up” with Jackson Jekyll today not that we were ever really dating I mean officially, which would have been nice but every time he would ask me out he would totally pull the invisible boy act on me and not show up: Or call. The next day he was always very sweet and apologetic but he could never remember why he forgot our date. I guess the final nail in the coffin was when he didn’t meet me at this party and I totally felt like a one tombstone graveyard. I ended up dancing with this scary hot DJ named Holy Hyde who acted like he knew me although I’m pretty sure that we hadn’t met before. Jackson and I are still friends but sometimes that’s just how the tombstone crumbles.

25♥September

Went to the beach with Frankie, Clawdeen and Clawd to watch Lagoona surf. It was a beautiful day, which meant I had to break out the sunscreen although the stuff I have to use is more like sunwall. It’s so thick it’s like being coated in honey and it’s like a sand magnet so I pretty much have to stay on a blanket the whole time or I end up looking like a sand sculpture. Oh well, it’s worth the annoyance to get to spend the day at the beach.

30♥September

I stayed up late reading a new novel about a forbidden romance between a werewolf girl and a vampire boy… like that would ever happen… but it’s so sweet and tragic I couldn’t put it down. Of course I slept through my alarm and was almost late for school, which meant my makeup was a mess cause I couldn’t take my time putting it on. Luckily, Ghoulia saw me before anyone else did and she helped me straighten it out so I didn’t walk into my first class looking like an undead clown… not that there’s anything wrong with that.

1♥October

I took one of those quizzes to see what kind of creature I am - I think all the teen monster mags have them now - which seems kind of strange since like I already know. Anyway, the quiz had questions like: What is your favorite haunt? What is your favorite food? Would you rather be dead or undead? Do you run, shamble, fly or ooze? So after I answered all the questions I turned to the back to read:

Congratulations! You are a Woodland Nymph! You are kind, gentle and love sunshine and nature. You probably make your home in a tree where you enjoy the company of many woodland animals that you would never scare or eat. I wonder if I should share this with father? LOL… maybe not :)

7♥October

Clawd and Spectra had a monster argument today and it created such a fuss that both of them got called into Headmistress Bloodgood’s office. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Clawd so angry or Spectra so self-righteous but neither of them would talk about it when they came out of HHB’s office- not even to me! Clawdeen thinks it has something to do with Cleo and Clawd but I totally don’t understand how she made that connection. Now Clawdeen is mad at Cleo. Again. This is really sad since it seemed like they were starting to actually tolerate each other.

12♥October

I know a lot of monsters are not excited about having to write an essay on our monster heritage but I think it’s creeperifically cool! First of all, I’m writing a screenplay about my un-life and I think this will really help the third act and secondly because it gives me the opportunity to set the record straight about a couple of things. Beginning with the fact that my father is much older than any monster realizes. I mean he was already a vampire back when togas were first considered fashionable… sooo glad father doesn’t wear one anymore. Then there was that whole identity theft calamity that happened when we rented our castle in Transylvania to a total con-monster who went around pretending to be father. Now I have to carry a copy of my death certificate to prove that I really am as old as I say I am cause some monsters think I must be related to that loser. Unfortunately for the imposter his bats came home to roost and not in a good way either. The rest of my story, like how my father took in me and my mother when no one else would and why I’m a vegan vampire I’m going to save for the screenplay which I would like to film in pink and white. How scary cool would that be?

16♥October

In the span of 3 days Clawdeen missed a test in Mad Science, a school dance and a buy one get one she sale at the Maul. Frankie and I knew something had to be wrong but Clawdeen wouldn’t answer our texts or emails. Finally, Clawd showed us a picture he took of Clawdeen with his iCoffin. Her hair… it was… it was… not of this world. Clawd said she couldn’t fix it and had to “curl+alt+delete her new’do” with a pair of electric clippers. He said she was so depressed that she turned all her mirrors toward the wall and wasn’t even growling at Howleen for borrowing her clothes. I suggested we shave our heads too but then Frankie reminded me how fast Clawdeen’s hair grows and that we’d be bald a lot longer than she would so she came up with the idea of going to the Maul and buying Clawdeen a fierce fashionista scare package to cheer her up instead and that’s just what we did. Of course we bought some things for ourselves too : )

25♥October

I was supposed to hang out with the ghouls last night but I didn’t. I tried to explain what happened to Clawdeen but I couldn’t. She was annoyed with me cause I always tell her everything. She thinks I’m keeping a secret from her which I guess I sort of am but I’m not sure I want to talk to anybody about it yet. So I wrote this poem to describe what happened. I don’t know why it’s easier for me to express emotions in verse but sometimes it just is. I read it to Count Fabulous who usually leaves the room when I get too sappy but this time he flew down and gave me a little bat hug when I was finished.

One fall autumn night I took a walk jaunt to meet some friends at a familiar haunt.

The sky above was very starry bright and there seemed to me not a cloud in sight.

So off I went without sans umbrella or coat although what I probably needed was really a boat.

Cause the clouds came rolled in with a dragon’s roar and shortly thereafter it began to pour.

Not a pleasant rain, good for plant,and flower but a driving, unfriendly, cold hard icy shower.

Now I was halfway between home and there my makeup was running ruined and so was my hair.

With no shelter in sight or a way to get dry I put my head face in my hands and started to cry.

When out of the shower rain a voice broke through, “Hey D, it’s me Clawd, hey D is that you?”

As I blinked through the tears and rain I could see Clawdeen’s brother Clawd, waving at me.

Across four lanes of traffic bravely he dashed with umbrella in hand to my side he flashed.

He led helped me back to his car warm and dry, said not a word till I’d finished my cry.

“Here’s a hot coffincino whip cream no foam, it’ll warm you right up while I drive you home.”

From the car he walked me up to my door protecting me still from the storm’s down pour.

As he turned to leave I placed a kiss on his cheek then I ran inside before he could speak.

And while I watched his car disappear from sight I felt something happen change for me that night.

No longer did I see him as just my best friend’s brother that night, to me, he became something other.

The great thing about poetry is that it doesn’t have to be epic to express how you feel. Now I have to wonder, “Does he feel the same?”

About Me

Name: Draculaura

Age: 1,599 (I can’t wait for my Sweet 1600th)

Monster Parent: Count Dracula

Killer Style: I love to splash my black outfits with some cheery pink and I even carry a frilly umbrella so I can take an occasional walk in the sun.

Freaky Flaw: Since I can’t see my reflection in a mirror, I have to leave the house not knowing if my clothes and makeup are just right. Of course after 1,599 years of practice I’ve gotten pretty good at it.

Pet: Count Fabulous is my BFF (Bag Friend Forever), he’s a very proud and proper bat but I just can’t help but dressing him in the cutest little outfits.

Favorite Activity: I love smiling, laughing, and encouraging my friends.

Biggest Pet Peeve: The lack of vegetarian selections in the Monster High creepateria is so sad.

Favorite School Subject: Creative Writing. It gives me a chance to write sweet stories about my friends.

Least Favorite School Subject: Geography. After 1,599 years I’ve been everywhere… twice.

Favorite Color: Pink

Favorite Food: I’m a vegan, no icky blood for me, so it’s fruits, vegetables and a lot of iron supplements.

BFF’s: Frankie Stein and Clawdeen Wolf

#monster high dolls #monster high #monsterhigh #draculaura #monster high draculaura #MHdiaries

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herstroywritten · 3 years

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Darn Pigtails

Hello! I genuinely have no excuse for this monstrosity of a piece that I agonized over for the past few days instead of focusing on my uni work. I’ve spent the last month obsessing over Fate and Rivusa (the latter has been a life long obsession and Fate has only added fuel to the fire, with just one scene...). Yes, I am a part of that clown circus and honestly, I’m proud. I’ve always been a writer, but never posted anything but I figure here goes nothing. I was very inspired by some very talented writers in this tiny little club that’s been created on here for this ship (you all know them by now...). I couldn’t resist adding my own (not so) little addition to the collection. I don’t currently have an account on ao3 or anything, so this is just what’s happening. Be warned, it’s long and maybe excessive (8k words, oops). Other than that, enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

It started with pigtails.

He'd seen Dowling parading her around the square as students fought tooth and nail to kill the fake dummies that seemed to embody their realistic counterparts more than they should have. She's had a raincoat on at the time, not that he would have cared what she was wearing because… how could he notice anything but the pigtails? Fucking pigtails! Long enough to reach her waist, dark enough to have him thinking that the darkest of night skies must have been modeled after that same color, and pin-straight from root to tip. She walked by, lavender sweater and loose jeans, and that's the first thing he noticed. Her pigtails. He felt his tongue move, the tip pressed against the top of his mouth, ready to make a crude comment about how he'd love to tug on those pigtails in more than one scenario because honestly, was he not supposed to with the way that they swung about perfectly matching the sway of her hips? His eyes lit up as he just about let the words tumble out, and then she let her eyes lift to meet his as she made her way through the specialists' training grounds. Brown eyes lingered over his green ones for longer than any normal interaction accounts for, before dropping downward to the rest of his form. His mouth quirked into a smirk.

"Oh," he thought. "So this is how we're going to play this game."

Never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a game or a challenge. And it just so happened that this particular game, the cat and mouse chase, was one of his favorites. So he figured, if she could stare at him like that, it would only be rude not to return the favor. He turned around, let his eyes fully graze over her whole figure the way he'd been too distracted to do before, and that's when he noted the stick she held. Whatever dumb comment he'd been so eager to make about her pigtails was quickly replaced by, "You like holding that big stick?"

He'd hoped for a reaction. And boy did he get one, a swift and lithe little trick she'd been hiding, seemingly waiting for the chance to pull it out. And even though he'd been training his whole life to defend himself, he just about let her jab his left eye out because he was so very much intrigued by the way her hair swayed to meet her movements and her brown eyes that bore into him with rage. Yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.

"I think I just threw up," she said, her face twisting into clear disdain. But her eyes sparkled and he thought maybe her hair is not the only thing the night sky was modeled after. He'd seen her before, somewhere in the background perhaps. Class? No. If she were a specialist and in his classes, there was no way in hell he wouldn't remember her. The cafeteria? Probably, there was only one place to get food in this godforsaken place and he doubted she hadn't made her way down there at least once. The Alfea hallways? Again, not unlikely. And that's when it clicked into place. She was one of the too many to remember (in his opinion) roommates of Sky's new obsession- Bloom. The four, sometimes five, of them were always together, huddled up beside one another in the cafeteria benches or on the way to classes. Honestly, now that he thought about it, was there ever a time when he'd seen those girls- besides Stella- alone? He definitely had never seen her alone. "Well, better take advantage of the chance," he thought. So, he dug into her, asked about her little run around the training grounds with the headmistress. He wanted to see how far he could push her rage, how willing she was to give him a good show. Between comments about dancing and fairies versus specialists, her eyes flashed purple and he soon realized that he'd bit off more than he could chew. As if her natural brown irises weren't alluring enough, the way they looked when he powers took over held a whole other sense of siren's lure within them. It took him a second to realize what was happening, that she was reading him. And he would have let her continue too, if it meant that he could hold her attention just a little while longer and feel whatever kind of electricity was rippling between the two of them for a few more minutes. Too bad she chose that moment to let him know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how he felt.

"You really hate being here, don't you?"

In this school, yes. Here, right now, with her eyes all over him and his hands twitching to edge upwards and brush his hands against those darn pigtails? No. No, he would have loved to stay right here just a little longer. But he was more scared of whatever hell she'd dig up from within him, so instead he told her to stay the fuck out of his head. He caught a glimpse of her prideful smirk, taunting him about this lost battle and her evident win, right before he whirled around and walked his way back to wherever his legs would lead him.

Passing by the guy he'd seen constantly following her around like a lost puppy dog, the one he assumed was her boyfriend, he murmured under his breath something along the lines of "Good luck with that one."

And then he was gone. But not before he remembered that he hadn't caught her name. No matter. As previously mentioned, never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a challenge. She'd won this battle, but he was going to win the war.

_______________________________________________________________

The next time he found himself in her company only, the world had flipped on its axis.

Dowling and Silva were gone and Harvey had turned into a muted professor, almost never seen anywhere except in the greenhouse when he had classes to run. The new headmistress, Rosalind, ruled with a grip tougher than steel. Andreas was the male version of her, so not any better. Fairies were being forced into combat positions, whether they liked it or not, and upperclassmen specialists were forced into being their mentors, whether they liked it or not. Classes were stricter. You miss one lesson, you make up two class times in personal training with either Andreas or Rosalind herself. At first, everyone'd thought that was a stupid rule. Who doesn’t want a one-on-one with the professors? It took just one dumb third-year specialist missing his first lesson on the first day of the second term for everyone to realize that these training sessions were practically abuse covered with a prettier name.

But the thing that had changed the most, the thing that he couldn't even begin to name, was whatever the hell was happening to his mind. He no longer knew where his day started and where it ended. He knew he must have gotten up every morning and gone to classes and eaten to sustain his body for the brutal training session that followed and delt with whatever else needed dealing with. And yet, he remembered none of it. None of it except the moments spent chasing Sky around (which inevitably meant chasing the Winx suite around), the moments spent training his new fairy mentee- Musa, and the nightly runs to Dowling's- no, Rosalind's- office where he involuntarily spilled every little detail about his day. His mind had become an utter blur, his thoughts were no longer his own. He knew somewhere in his mind that he needed to stop, had tried endlessly to stop, but the more he held back from Rosalind's spell, the faster his words seem to come out. So, he'd stopped trying to fight it.

It was to his horror when he had been assigned Musa for training. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Of course they were going to pair him with a Winx suitemate, he just had expected it to be Bloom. Bloom was who they wanted details on after all. Even Stella would have made more sense, what with her mother being so very controlling. But no. Bloom went to Sky, Stella to some third year specialist, and he got Musa. If guilt wasn't already shredding him to pieces, it would be now.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was better prepared to handle her this time. He'd spent enough time with Sky and the girls to have picked up the little details about her. She constantly listened to music to block out the world, she liked wearing shorts and miniskirts (a fact he quite enjoyed), she had an unhealthy obsession with bomber jackets (a fact he could do without when she was also wearing lacy silks under those same jackets), she liked pancakes for breakfast (but only when they were drenched with maple syrup), and the list goes on. His personal favorite fact, however, was that her hair was always immaculate and never the same two days in a row.

The point was, he could do this. All he had to do was train her. No talking necessary. She sure as hell was not about to strike up conversation with him if he didn't bother her. So, he'd keep his mouth shut and just teach her what he needed to teach her. Then he'd leave. That way, when his legs would inevitably carry him to Rosalind at midnight on the dot, he'd have nothing to give her but a good rundown of what moves they had practiced.

How wrong he had been.

He had clearly overestimated his ability to not falter in front of her, because the second she walked into the mat, he knew he'd have to say something.

This time, her hair was in tightly wound braids. Two of them, wrapping vertically down her scalp like fine rope. This time, he wants to undo her hair, to tug the black elastic ties out of place and run his fingers through each threaded piece until the strands lay about her shoulders in waves. He'd like to know what she looks like with her hair down, like fully down.

As if the hair wasn’t enough, she was also dressed in the tight female version of the specialist gear. It's all green woven material that crosses her chest, black mesh that lines her sides, and tight leggings that bring an ungodly amount of attention to her ass.

So, he slips up. "If I knew this is what you'd look like in a uniform-" he starts, but never finishes.

"Don't you dare finish that thought," she warns, voice dripping with a no-nonsense attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"It has not been my day. Hell, it has not been my week."

"It hasn't been anyone's week," he feels the need to remind her. And when she looks at him with those eyes, he wonders if she can read right through him without having to use her magic.

"Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm having a particularly more-so-than-average-shit day. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to yourself." She's frustrated, he can see it. She's giving him the perfect out of a bad situation. She's begging him not to talk to her and that's exactly what he needs but goddamn it, he can't back away from a challenge even when his mind is in literal hell.

"What, can't handle me?" She scoffs at that.

"I can handle you just fine. I've been handling other's comments and thoughts since my powers started showing up. That's not the problem.

"What is the problem then?" He's digging, searching for something. For what, he's not sure. She's just finished lacing up her boots. She looks at him then, stares him down.

"The problem is I don’t want to handle you right now, Riven." And with that, she shoves past him to the center of the mat. But he's not done yet.

"You sure about that? I've never met a girl who doesn’t want to handle me before…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckles a little at his antics.

"Yeah, no. But even if I did want to, you'd really have to do better than that.

"What, the line wasn't up to your standards?"

"Was it up to yours?"

"Not my best, I'll admit. But I make do. And you can't tell me Harvey Jr. has done any better." Rage flushes through her features at that particular comment. He watches as her cheeks flush bright red and as the flush slowly spreads to her neck and below the rounded collar of her uniform, slowly cursing whoever created the damn thing for not making it a V-neck.

"Ooh, a reaction! Go on, then. Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"None of your fucking business."

"It never is, and yet I'd love to know."

"Seriously, Riven. Let's just not talk." She wound up, ready to burst. Her hands are balled into fists by her side and her back is arched towards him in anger. She's a spring ready to jump, and he wants to see how high she can reach.

He goes for the typical line, "Trouble in paradise, then?"

Turns out she can jump pretty damn high, something he expected. What he didn't expect was for her to jump him. She pushes him with so much force that he barely catches himself before he falls. Tears stream down her face as she punches at his chest (hopelessly, he notes… he's got a lot to teach her). He lets her continue the onslaught on his chest, is impressed by her force and strength and persistence even if the form is all wrong. When she finally stops, the tears do too. All that's left are her hiccups and his eyes following her every movement. He watches her dry her eyes vigorously, hears her curse him and the school and herself… and Sam? He's not sure what's happening right now, not sure why his arms suddenly want to wind around her frame and pull her in, or why his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. He chooses to ignore it all.

They continue the rest of the training session in silence, with him only speaking to direct her movements and point out a thing or two about her form. Later that night, after running through his nightly routine with Rosalind, he finds out from Sky that Bloom was especially distressed today because Musa was especially distressed today because Musa and Sam had decided to call it quits. Riven feels light-headed at that news, and he's still not exactly sure why his body is so adamant about reacting to news involving her.

He rolls into bed, thinking bitterly to himself that he won today. He won this battle. So why does it feel like he lost it?

______________________________________________________________

They continue their training sessions in silence for a while, until eventually a banter sparks between the two of them. He's not quite sure how it happens, just as he's not quite sure how anything happens anymore. He assumes he probably made some joke about how good her legs looked in those damn tights or about how she desperately needed help with her fighting stance. Maybe he just wore her down with his constant questions. He doesn't really care, to be honest. He knows he should care, in the same way that he knows he should actually avoid talking to her instead of showing up every day eager to see her. He just can’t bring himself to do it, not when she shows up in that uniform every day or when she looks at him with so much pride when she finally nails a move they've been working on for so long, and definitely not when she starts to initiate the playful conversations with the same smirk that he would maybe like to kiss off her face. There's so many things he should do at the end of the day, but he does none of them. He just lets whatever happens happen, and it kind of works out for a bit. They tease each other, teeter-tottering somewhere between playful and full on flirting. They fight in close combat corners, sometimes ending up on top of each other. Those days are a personal favorite of Riven's, especially when she's on top of him and he can feel her thighs straining against his waist as she pins his arms above his head. (He may have taught her that one move just for this moment. He felt it was a shame to not put those dance-trained legs of hers to use.)

The perfectly odd tightrope they walk snaps on a Wednesday afternoon, after they've finished training and are walking toward the benches that hold their water bottles. He takes a swing of his water, and then looks up from his seat to see her standing up and chugging her own bottle. A loose droplet slips past her lips and down her uniform's tank top. He follows it with his eyes, not even bothering to hide the very obvious motion even as she finishes her drink, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckles at him while rolling her eyes.

"You could be a little less obvious, you know." She calls him out casually. He smirks at the comment before dragging his eyes back up to her brown orbs.

" Subtle isn't really my forte. Besides what fun would it be if you didn't know I was staring at you?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. "You're gonna give some poor girl a heart attack one day if you look at her like that." It's a teasing remark, but he feels his adrenaline hike up at her comment. The game is back on.

"Some poor girl, huh?" He leans into her on the bench, invades her personal space. She blushes, looks directly ahead, and he thinks he's winning another one of the many secret battles they seem to find themselves fighting. Then, she turns to him and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't expect that. Again, he knows he should just leave or say no. Anything to avoid a conversation that could lead to more than just a flirting banter, anything to avoid something that Rosalind may actually be interested in. But she's looking up at him with wide eyes and he's convinced he's become weak and that she's won this battle because he can't bring himself to say no.

"Uh… sure?"

She looks around nervously, as if deciding whether to ask what's on her mind or not. Finally, she leans close to him and asks in a slow and quiet voice, "Where do you sneak off to every night at midnight?" He pulls back from her faster than he thought he would ever be able to pull away from her, blinking down at her now shocked face.

"How-"

"How do I know? You have a roommate, Riven. He hears you leave every night and says nothing about it, but he's been worried about you. He says you've been acting different… For what it's worth, I think he's right. Especially when we're not in training sessions, you're completely out of it. I know this has been a rough mon-"

This is it. She's dug deep enough that she has hit rock bottom, she's found the dead-end at the bottom of his soul. He has to let this banter go now. He can't have her asking questions he'll then have to report back to Rosalind.

"You know nothing." He words are curt and sharp. She flinches at their edge, but doesn’t back down. It's one of his favorite things about her, her persistence.

"You can talk to me if something is wrong, you know? Or to Sky or the girls… you can talk to any of us…" He watches as her eyebrows furrow, traces the line they form down her nose to her lips and then back to her eyes. And that's when he notices that her eyes have changed color to purple. He grabbed her hand quickly and firmly, enough to break her concentration but not enough to hurt her (God, even in his rage, it would never be enough to hurt her).

"I've told you not to do that. Not to use your damn mind powers on me." His voice is strained, laced with anger and something resembling fear.

"I'm trying-"

"I don't care what you're trying. You shouldn’t be in there. You shouldn't be in my brain. There's nothing in there worth your time or energy and there never will be."

And with that he spins on his heel and marches into the forest behind the training grounds. He doesn’t turn around, but if he did, he would have seen Sky moving out of the shadows and heading toward Musa.

"Did you do it?"

It takes her a second to interpret his question. She still staring into the distance as Riven's figure fades out of view, her eyes finally returning to their normal brown color. She continues to stare at the dot in the distance, unwilling to look away as if she's daring him to turn around and spare her one last glance. He doesn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She finally turns to Sky. "He's completely blocked from my powers. Dowling was right, he's under some sort of mind control."

______________________________________________________________

It’s 2AM by the time Riven finally makes his way to the room he shares with Sky. He's once again not really sure where his day went or what he did after he flipped on Musa and marched his way into the woods after their little spat. He remembers anger, a lot of anger. He's angry at her for trying to dig into his brain when they had already established that he hated it. He was angry at Dowling for dying (at least, he assumes she's dead because where else would she be?) and leaving the school to the psychopath that is Rosalind. He's angry at Rosalind for manipulating him, controlling his mind. He's angry at Beatrix for getting him into this stupid mess. But mostly, he's angry with himself for letting it all happened, for somehow always making the wrong move at the wrong time, for managing to screw up his own life in such a grand manner that it constitutes an award (truly, he's outdone himself this time). He's mad at himself for not being able to control his own mind, for letting Rosalind take up residence in his brain and being able to do nothing about it. He's even angry at himself for not just standing there and letting Musa read his emotions, because maybe if she did then she'd know the hell he was in. His brain was constantly pulling in all different directions, trying desperately to get away from the constraints of Rosalind's spell. Headaches are nonending and thoughts leave as soon as they come. It's like there's two people waging war within him, but one of them brought swords to a gunfight and is losing horribly. But it’s a war he feels he should fight on his own, and maybe that's why he didn't let her read him. As much as he hates to admit it, the mind control and guilt was breaking him but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, however, was getting her involved in this stupid mess by mistake, which would inevitably lead to Rosalind getting ahold of her as well. God knows there's only so much room left in hell or sins, and he'd be damned if he hadn't already filled all the available spots.

He was glad for the day to finally be over, glad to be heading to bed (not sleep though, sleep did not exist when his mind was in so much pain all the fucking time). It seemed the world had other plans for him, however, because upon opening the door to his dorm, he was met with a sight that he both dreaded and wanted to burn into his memory for the rest of however long he had to live before Rosalind finally took pity on him and bent his brain to death.

Perched on his bed, leaning forward ever so slightly, elbows meeting her knees, and head bend toward the floor was Musa. From his angle, he could only see her side profile, but apparently that's all his body needed to be automatically sent into a frenzy. The first thing he notices was, not to his surprise, the hair. She'd replaced her training braids with buns, big ones that hang precariously form her head as tendrils of her dark hair fell in loose waves and framed her face. He again found himself wondering what she would look like with all of her hair fully down. His fingers itched to burrow into those carefully constructed space buns and pull their pins out of place, just to see if she'd look half as beautiful with her hair down as she did with her hair up.

He stood like that for a while, taking her in and letting her continue to stare at the dark wooden floors with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He's not sure when, but eventually she turned toward the door, eyebrows first shooting up when she noticed him staring at her, and then falling back into place as she shot him a shy mile from across the room.

"Hey," came her greeting in a small voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question was harsh, but he knew himself well to know that if he even let just one layer of himself down with her, he may as well just lay down all his defenses. She had a way of getting him to speak and break down and he wasn't about to let himself get her mixed up in whatever evil plan he'd been helping construct against his will.

Too bad for him, because it seemed Musa had been expecting a fight and was ready to fire back his quips with some of her own. She simply rolled her eyes and casually stated, "Well, then, straight to it, are we?"

"If you're looking for Sky or Bloom, they're probably in a dark hallway somewhere snogging each other half to death," he answered. She grimaced at the image.

"Yeah, no. I'm not here for Bloom or Sky."

"Then you're not here for anyone." She gave him a pointed look at that phrase. He wisely chose to ignore it and instead made his way to the couch in the middle of the room, throwing his jacket somewhere on it.

"What, that's all you have today? I'm standing on your bed, we're alone in your bedroom, I'm in a miniskirt… and you're not going to make a comment about showing me a good time? You're losing your touch, Riv." She was teasing him, he could tell by the light tone of her voice. Maybe she liked to see his reactions the way he so enjoyed watching her react to his own snarky comments. Maybe she saw enough into his brain earlier to have dug up some of his fantasies. Damn her, he'd been avoiding looking anywhere but her face since he walked in, and now here she was basically challenging him to do more. Damn him and his inability to back down from a game he was so clearly not apt to win at the moment. He turned around and finally got a good look at her. She was indeed in a miniskirt, under which she had tucked a lacy white top that was very clearly meant to showcase the black bra she wore underneath the pitiful excuse of a shirt. Her signature red bomber jacket hung from her shoulders and the black boots she had on were laced all the way up to her kneecaps.

This must be it, he thought. This must be his punishment for spilling his guts to Rosalind every night. Or maybe, his guilt and the pain throbbing through his veins had finally won out and he was finally cracking under all that pressure. That's fine. He wasn't even surprised this is what his brain chose to tease him with at the brink of destruction. He figured she'd be the one to shatter him, it was only a matter of time.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Her voice broke him out of his trance. Ok, maybe he wasn't imagining her.

He sighed, defeated and broken and just tired. "Why are you here, Musa?"

It’s a staring match now. He watches as her eyes soften and the sarcasm leaves her features.

"I couldn’t read you earlier today. In the training grounds-" No. Anything but this conversation.

"Maybe you should consider working on those powers of yours then. Seems to me like you're the one losing your touch."

"I'm serious, Riven-"

"I am too."

"Jesus, Riven, let me just finish!" Anger sparked in her features. "You're loud, Riven." He scoffed at that. "Your emotions, I mean. They're usually loud… but they're also lively and harmonious, in a weird way that I can't seem to figure out. Lately, however, they've been quiet… as if they don't exist at all. And at first I thought it was me, I thought I was getting better at controlling my powers. But when I tried to read you today, I felt nothing…" There is was, she had figured it out, and now she looked at him as if he was a science experiment she couldn’t quite figure out.

"… Maybe my hearts just finally turned to stone." He tried for a joke. She did not find it amusing.

"I know, Riven." He's not sure what that was supposed to mean. What did she know? That he was a horrible person? That he'd snitched on her and all their friends (were they his friends?) to the queen of evil? Or worse, that his body lit up whenever she was around?

"Cryptic, but ok. I guess between that line and the fact that you somehow snuck into my room, you could make the whole 'good girl turned bad, mysterious girl' vibe work. Honored I'm the first you're trying it out on. If you'd like to take it a step further, the bed's right behind you." She may have the upper hand in this game, but he's still a stubborn ass.

"Seriously, Riven. I'm not kidding." She took a step toward him. Wrong move, angel.

"I know you're not. That shirt doesn't exactly scream 'kidding'. Tell me, did you just choose the first thing you found in your closet to put on?" He took a step forward this time, one long stride before they stood chest to chest and he hooked his finger under her chin. "Or is that shirt part of this whole 'mystery girl' scheme? Because, I won't lie, it's working." He sees her shiver at his words and doesn't bother to hide the smirk that graces his face. Finally, things were getting interesting. "Wonder if it looks half as good on my bedroom floor…" He noticed her eyes flicker downward, to is lips, but they moved back up just as quickly. He stared right back at her, watching as she struggled to make up her mind about where to slap him for that last comment. He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

"I'm sure you do." Her words came as a whisper, and the smirk that followed was just as alluring. He barely had time to process the meaning behind it all, before she crashed her body onto him and her lips found his. Her hands gripped into the sides of his t-shirt, keeping him to her with such force that he vaguely wondered why in the world she felt the need to do that when he wouldn't dream of walking away from this, from her. It's frantic and it's rushed. One of his hands find her waist, pulls her impossibly closer to him. His other hand delves into the hair at the back of her head before sliding to the side and pulling at the pins that hold her right bun in place. It takes him pulling out just one pin and the structure falls apart, her hair tumbling around them and cocooning them in place. He hears her gasp, her hands finally unlatching from his shirt as she splays them apart over his muscles, moves them up to his shoulders.

He's moving backward, whether to ask her if this okay or make a comment about that noise she just made, he's not sure. He never gets the chance. She pulls his to her again, kisses him like she's been starved in a thirsting in wasteland for days and he's the first sign of water she's stumbled upon, bites his lip- fucking bites his lip and sucks on it and pulls it with her teeth… and he thinks that her being here could not have been his punishment. This, right here, her kissing him like this, this is his punishment. This is his pain finally taking over and shattering his soul.

Maybe Rosalind somehow found out about his little crush and is getting payback for the fact that he didn't show up for their nightly midnight story time. Maybe, he's already dead and in hell and some devil out there is playing a cruel, cruel trick on his brain. Maybe that's why his body is shaking, literally shaking, and his mind feels like its tearing apart. He feels Musa's hands on his scalp, her palms splayed out at his temples and fingers tightly wound into his hair. Again, he is surprised at the sheer force she seems to pour into her touch, anchoring him to her as though he could ever want to leave her embrace.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts and in her touch that he barely hears the whimpers of pain coming from her or feels the tears streaming down her face as she hold him to her. When he finally feels the tears trickle between their lips, be pulls back (genuinely, pulls back because her fingers are still forcing him to her), opens his eyes to find her already looking back at him. But instead of the brown irises she wore when this rough little make out session started, her eyes are now purple. And her face is red. She looks exhausted. He feels exhausted.

He's about to ask her what's wrong, if she's ok, if her powers are going haywire. But he's so dizzy and so tired and suddenly he's leaning on her and she's pulling him onto the bed. She looks down at him, whispers "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over in his ear and he finds himself wondering what she's sorry about and where the pain that haunted him for weeks has gone before he slowly sinks into oblivion.

________________________________________________________________

He wakes up and she's gone.

It's Sky who sits next to him the next day, Sky and Headmistress Dowling of all people. He mumbles something about being dead and hallucinating, but Sky just laughs and tells him he's happy to have him back.

It takes a good few hours to catch him up on all the shit he's missed while he was being controlled by Rosalind. Apparently, Dowling was stuck under a bunch of plants? The girls somehow managed to free her with some potion from a cousin of Terra's. Turns out they've been sneaking out every night, pretending to go to parties and instead heading outside the barrier trying to find clues on what the hell Rosalind is up to. That would explain Musa's choice of clothing the other night.

Sky tells him it was the girls' idea to keep him out of the loop at the beginning, worried that his weird obsession with Beatrix and her even weirder obsession with him would lead to Andreas and Rosalind finding out. Sky swears they were going to tell him eventually, and Riven has to tell him that he's glad they didn't. That's when Sky tells him what he'd already guessed. It was Musa who refused to tell him even after time has passed, sensing that something was wrong in his mind. Her being in their room the other night had been no mistake, but an orchestrated move. She'd practiced with Dowling for weeks, training to unlock his brain, pull it apart so that she could mentally remove Rosalind's control from his brain by sheer willpower and might, and then put it all back together as best she could.

He's instinctively proud of her, she did it. But, he also wishes she'd done it with less kissing and in some less distracting attire, but he probably deserves the type of torture that will surely follow as a result of last night. After they fill him in, Sky throws his gear at him and tells him to get dressed and ready.

"We leave tonight."

"What? Where are we going?"

"That's a bit complicated." It's Dowling who answers this time. "Silva and Professor Harvey will meet us in the woods beyond the barrier. We will lead you the rest of the way. We're going to collect forces. There will be a war, and Rosalind will know that something is wrong when you miss your nightly meeting with her for the second time in a row. The Winx suite is already with Silva and Ben. They're waiting for us."

They leave the dorms using Stella's ring, which she has given to Dowling as a backup to her magic, which Rosalind is be able to track within school grounds. When they arrive to the location in the woods, Riven is only slightly surprised to find Sam among the girls. He's leaning on a tree, talking to Silva and his father, both of which look like they haven't slept for days. The girls are gathered together by a fallen tree. Musa is in the middle of them, huddled into herself, as Terra and a new girl with brown skin and long honey-brown hair rub her back. Stella, Bloom, and Aisha stand back, watching Musa with worry evident in their eyes.

It's Stella who notices them first. She wipes the worry off her face with mastered ease that only comes with practice, straightens up her back, shoots Musa a look and calls loudly, "There you are! Took you guys long enough!"

From then on, it’s a quick fill-in on what the plan is, an awkward introduction to the Harvey cousin whose name he can't remember because his mind was too stuck on the girl whose hair is back in those buns he managed to loosen yesterday, and a small little "welcome back to the good side" before they're trekking their way through the woods.

He stands behind her the whole time. Watches as she follows the professors, but stands at the tail end of the line the girls have formed. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes tell him that the girls have probably been out here all night. He wonders how much of her energy it took to tear and mend his brain, if anyone bothered to let her rest after she did it. He wishes he was braver, wishes he could walk up to her and… what, thank her? Ask her why she did it? Why kiss him and then cure him? She could have just as easily done it while he was asleep. He bides his time, observes as one by one the girls take turns standing next to her, linking their arms with hers, smiling down at her, whispering who knows what in her ear and earning a laugh form her every now and then. He likes her laugh, it's cute.

He's currently watching as Bloom pull Musa to her and makes some joke about chickens, when he feels a punch land on his right arm.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" He turns to find that Stella has somehow walked backwards and is now next to him.

"Missed you too, princess," he mutters back.

"Oh, cut the bullcrap, Riven. You've been staring at her for the last two hours and I told her I wouldn't say anything but honestly, you two are hopeless. I've never met two people so oblivious in my life."

"I don’t know what you're talking about." he starts.

"Like shit you don't. If you don't know it yet, figure it out." And just like that she's running ahead and linking her right arm with Musa's as Bloom tries for another joke, this one about pigs that fly.

He tries to ignore Stella's stupid comment. Honestly, he figures it's probably safer to stare at her and look like a total creep than try to talk to her and make sense of his feeling about who the fuck knows what anymore. But Stella's words ring through his mind and he lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe…

In the end, he convinces himself that the reason he walks up to her once Bloom goes to hold Sky's hand and Stella moves in on the new girl to make conversation is because Stella offered him a challenge, and he likes to win at those. (He's heading straight for a loss, he's fully aware of that, but whatever.)

"Long time no see," he jokes when he reaches her side. She cranes her neck up at him, not surprised to see him.

"Thought I heard your loud-ass emotions coming closer."

"Yeah, I've been told they can be quite the riot." He shoots her a smirk and she smiles up at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know. Just some girl."

"Some girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Then she gave me a good snogging before tearing my brain to pieces without my knowing it."

"Mmm. She seems like a handful."

"Tell me about it." Her eyes fall downward and he doesn't need to be an empath to see the gears turning in her head.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "About that. I didn't want to do it, I know you have me reading your emotions."

"Yeah, but I hated having them controlled by someone else even more…" There's a pause and he quickly moves to fill it, scared that whatever courage juice that's coursing through his veins will run out soon. "Thank you, by the way." And he means it. He hopes she can sense the sincerity coming from him because he only has so many words in his vocabulary when it comes to her and fears he's already run out of them when she turns to look at him once more.

They've fallen behind the group at this point. He figures he won't get the chance to do this again for a while, so he asks her the question that been running rampant through his mind. It's pathetic, really. They're headed to god knows where to do god knows what and instead of worrying about the fact that war is coming or even being slightly concerned that he's just had his mind abused and prodded around by an evil mastermind, his biggest worry is if this girl really wanted to kiss him or if she just did it for show.

"So, umm, just so we're clear… did you mean it?" If he felt dumb thinking it, he feels like a world-class idiot saying it out loud.

"Mean what?" She stares back at him intensely, and he thinks to himself in an amused manner that they seem to be making a habit of staring at each other for longer than average periods of time. "The part about you being loud? Cuz, yeah, I meant every word. You're a walking catastrophe." She's smirking at him. He rolls his eyes her words.

"Couldn't care less about that. In fact, I'm glad my emotions are as obnoxious as I am- means they've been driving you crazy for a while now." Her smile falters a bit at that line. "What I want to know," he continues. "Is if you kiss everyone whose mind you go digging into like that." He still has not taken his eyes off her, and he's not going to start now, when she blushes and ducks her head under the collar of her red bomber jacket.

"That was a… last minute choice."

"What for?"

"I had to get close enough to you to make contact. I've only been practicing with Dowling for a few weeks and I didn’t want to screw it up. I can't really do the whole mind thing without some sort of contact just yet…" Her words drift off.

"Hand holding didn't cut it? Had to go for a full make-out session, complete with lip biting and everything?" He watches as she shivers into her coat, arms wrapped around herself.

"You would've pushed me away."

"How did you know I wouldn't push you away while kissing me?" She mutters something under her breath. He doesn’t catch it, not between that stupid jacket that she's using to shield her face. He gently takes a step forward, catches her chin between his fingers just as he had done the night before, makes her meet his eyes. "Come again?"

She sucks in a breath, her eyes waver to something behind him when she finally lets it out, "We both know you weren't going to say no to me throwing myself at you."

"And if I did?" He doesn't know who he's kidding, but it’s still a game and he's still playing to… lose?

She's still staring behind him when she frowns and says, "Then we would have seen just how great this shirt would have looked on your bedroom floor, after all."

And goddamn it, her words send his blood boiling. He's about to kiss her senseless, but he refuses to do it if she's not staring at him when he asks one last question.

With his finger still hooked under her chin and them standing mere inches away, he whispered into the air between them, "Look at me, Musa."

Her eyes slowly move to meet his. He gives up his last question, which just so happens to be his first, "Did you mean it?" And when her small "Yes" makes its way through her lips as her steady brown eyes catch his green ones, that's all the confirmation he needs.

His finger leaves her chin and moves to her head and then he's pulling her in, closer and closer and closer until she's all he can feel and smell and see and breathe. And she responds with the same vigor she used last night, wasting no time to wrap her arms around his neck and lock him to her. It's a new kind of game, one where they battle for dominance until they both run out of breath and need to break free. It makes him stronger, it breaks him down, it makes him wonder why the hell he ever wanted to win against her when he could instead let her win and lose himself to her as he is right now. And when his hands pull the pins from both buns from her hair as he kisses down her neck, she groans in half pleasure and half annoyance.

"I'll have to fix them again now," she whines, pouting her bottom lip out, which he takes as an invitation to bite and pull on it.

"You'll manage. Let me just have this now. I've been waiting a while to see you with your hair fully down." She scoffs but lets him stare at her in awe once he finds it in him to pull back from her lips in order to get a view his handiwork.

And to think, it all started with some fucking pigtails.

#rivusa #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #musa #musa fate #riven #riven fate

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valeskakingdom · 3 years

Text

Request

Jerome met the reader at the circus ... They spend the evening together (well, maybe have sex)? And then the reader leaves Jerome (he gives her his grey coat, what a gentleman) and comes back the next day, only to find out that he killed his mother and is sitting in Arkham. A year goes by (like in the show, I guess?) and the next time the reader meets Jerome, he’s on the bus with the cheerleaders and of course Jerome remembers her! ;) Is that too much? ;-;

Requested by: @valeskaduh

So guys, here's the final part 2 of my one shot. Hope you like it as much as part 1!!

Wordcount: 3510

Here's part 1: "https://valeskakingdom.tumblr.com/post/647442495087820800/request

Warning: mention of murder and violence

Credit: @gotham-swag

It was late, something after midnight already.

You both, Jerome and you, still laid in his bed fully covered in sweat thinking back about what has happened before, all the feelings, the pleasure... Everything.

Your clothes laid strayed on the ground; your underwear laid next to the bed while your shirt and pants laid elsewhere in any corners of his room.

Jerome had wrapped is arm around your waist to comfort you whilst you rested your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. It was even and slow.

"That was great, wasn't it?" Jerome broke the silence between you with a slight chuckle.

"Indeed," You chuckled "It was worth it."

"It was. Haven't met a girl that could give that good blowjobs."

"Jerome!" You slapped his chest in embarrassment widening your eyes, a strong blush went over face. You were a little shocked about his assertion, but otherwise you felt honored.

"No need to be embarrassed (Y/N)," Jerome chuckled caressing your side "You could see it as a compliment. I'd choose you over others."

"U-uhm...Thank...you? I feel...honored." You mumbled in embarrassment.

"You're cute when you're shy like that." Jerome smirked, sitting up and took a cigarette from his nightstand and lightened it to smoke.

You hummed saying nothing, just gave him a little smile.

You liked it how he called you cute, and that he liked your shyness. It gave you some hope that maybe that this,between you and him, could turn into something more than just a simple one off. All the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear, all the compliments and intensive kisses... That couldn't come just out of nowhere. You had the feeling something was special between you two; you couldn't say what it was though. All you knew was: you felt different in Jerome's near. It was like you two would know each other for ages.

While Jerome was smoking his cigarette off, his smoke spread through the room that you inhaled it. It didn't bother you, you were used to it from home.

You think took your phone out of the pocket of your pants to behold the clock: 00:37

Time for you to go, you needed to get ready in a few hours for your work.

"Anyways, I think it's time for me to go. Need to stand up early," You sighed grabbing your underwear to take them on "You know, work and such."

"Awww really?" Jerome gave you a little pout while admiring your body for one more time "I enjoyed the time with you."

Again he viewed you from head to toe, admired your curves and your flawless pale skin. His view was giving him chills again and he had the urge to touch again. He missed this feeling of your soft skin, this incredible feeling of him inside you making you moan, or the feeling when you dug your nails in his back because he pleasured you well.

"Me too," You giggled and pulled your pants up to buttoned them, then taking your shirt on "But yeah, I don't wanna be late. My boss becomes mad if anyone's late."

"How's your boss when he's mad?" Jerome asked with a certain leery undertone mixed with jealousy.

He looked at you frowning, his breathe became uneven, he kinda seemed to be upset like if you say a wrong word he's about to explode.

It confused you a little, but you didn't give a shit about it. You thought you maybe were just imagining this jealousy. How could he be jealous anyway? He didn't know you at all so he had nothing to loose when you go.

"Let's say you don't wanna mess around with him. He can be a little scary." You took your shirt on. Now though it wasn't as tight as usual anymore because Jerome tugged it from your body.

"Is he touching you?" Jerome gave you a stern look, his tone became rougher what confused you even more.

"Oh no. No, no, he's just yelling and he hears grudges." You turned to him "It's just annoying, that's all."

"Alright," He nodded standing up to take his boxers on "But wait, before you go..." Jerome walked to his wardrobe taking out a dark grey coat handing it to you "Here, it's cold outside."

"Thank you, but you don't-..."

"It's fine, you can keep it," Jerome smiled "See it as a little reward for the gorgeous night." He winked at you making you blush.

"Thank you." You smiled at him taking his coat on. You smelled his cologne, it smelled like any usual cologne but knowing that it was his made it special.

You both walked to the trailer's front door.

Jerome opened the door, you walked a few steps but turned around to face him. With a smile. You looked at his beautiful shining blue eyes for one last time. More and more you recognized that you liked him. You realized that you've never felt this huge amount of comfortableness and happiness. Sure, in an another relationship you've been happy, too, but not as much as with Jerome.

It was strange, very strange. You couldn't understand how you'd be so attached to a stranger. Maybe it was because Jerome was the perfect guy in your eyes and something gave you the feeling that you two belonged together?

"Well, then," you kissed his cheek quickly "See you around, Jerome."

"See you around, (Y/N). Hope to see ya again." One last time, he gave you this amazing smile before he shut the door.

With a little smile you walked out of the circus. You couldn't wait to visit the circus again to meet Jerome and have an amazing time together.

***

Days went by.

You couldn't stop thinking about Jerome - how kind he was to you, how good he treated you, and let's not forget about the sex, of course. The sex was amazing.

Though you still had his coat. You know you couldn't keep it, you wouldn't feel right about it.

Due to different circumstances, the circus was still in your city. On the one hand, you were curious about the reason why. Maybe there were some complications with travelling? Or maybe they did an extra show and had a lot of work to do to prepare for the show?

On the other hand, all your thoughts focused in Jerome. You were excited: you imagined to hug him, talking to him, laughing with him... Everything you wanted to do when you were able to see him again.

You made your way to Haly's circus with Jerome's coat.

As you arrived, everything seemed to be normal. The circus tent was still constructed, the trailers stood still on the same places as on the day where you visited the show, and the artists still walked around the yard.

You looked around to find someone you could talked to and who you didn't bother; then you saw the Ringmaster who was taking his rings to pack them into his case.

He was a tall colored man with some kind of clown makeup: red cheeks. white makeup was smeared around his face and a fake beard was glued on his upper lip. He was wearing a red suit and a black tophat.

"Hey, uhm...excuse me?" You hesitatingly tapped on his shoulder.

"Hm?" He turned to you with a grunt "The circus is closed for visitors. There ain't be a show today."

"Oh, I know but," as the Ringmaster was about to turn around, you grabbed his arm and turned him back to you "I was just looking for Jerome. He gave me his coat a few days ago and I wanted to give it back."

"Oh, haven't you watched the news? Jerome's in Arkham-..." You widened your in shock, you hoped you haven't heard it right.

"Wait, wait, wait...he's what?!"

Arkham?! Has he really said 'Arkham'?! The asylum where murderers, cannibals and other lunatics are living in?! What is he doing there?! Why is he in Arkham?! What has he done to be busted in there?! These were the thoughts that couldn't get out of your head. Jerome was a criminal? How could he?! He was so kind to me, so polite...was that all just acting? Did he play with my mind?

"He killed his mother with a hatchet. You might know her as the snake dancer." He sighed shaking his head slightly while he kept packing the rings in his suitcase "Let's just hope she didn't have a painful death."

"A-alright...t-thank you..." In shook and disgust, you slowly walk back to your car.

You couldn't believe what you've heard. Jerome was a killer: a blood-thirsty, psychotic and cold-hearted killer. You felt poor, you had the feeling you were about to throw up every minute. You slept with him and you liked it...you even wanted to meet him again!

You were disgusted by yourself.

Now you just wished that you could have changed the past; that you've never slept with him, never let him kiss nor touch you...that you've never even talked to him! You just wished that as he bumped into you, that you ignored him or snapped at him that you and himwoukd have never dealt with each other - everything.

***

*1 year later*

It was a rainy and cloudy day in Gotham.

It was cold, your window panes were fogged through the high temperature difference between your room and outside. In your room, it was warm and comfortable while outside it was cold, almost as cold as in winter.

You were just sitting on the couch eating some sandwiches, drinking a Coke in the hope something new and excited happened in your life.

This day was bearing you down, you didn't know why though. Maybe it was just the weather? You had no idea. You just felt empty inside since last year. And you exactly knew why.

You still couldn't believe the fact Jerome was a killer. You couldn't imagine how an actual kind and smart boy with a gorgeous smile, ginger hair, blue eyes and some abs could grab a hatchet to kill his own mother. You just wished it was a lie and that reality played a bad game with you. For sure, you didn't know Jerome completely, you've just met him once but still you could say that this all felt so wrong.

It was the disgust that caused this feeling. You were disgusted by the thought that you allowed a murderer playing with your mind to get in your pants while he was about to murder something behind your back. You were disgusted by the thought that you imagined you and him being a couple, that you wanted to date him... You were disgusted by everything that included him because it reminded you of all this. When you just heard the name Jerome, you felt shivers down your spine and a feeling mixed of disgust and feeling poor.

One thing that confused you was: you couldn't throw his coat in the trash can. You kept it, it hung in your wardrobe and you smelled on it every day because his cologne was still buried in it, then you remembered the gorgeous night you had with him and all the feeling you felt...But then you remembered who he really was and what he has done right after the meeting of you which caused you to close your wardrobe fast and walking out of our room to quickly forget all that - day by day.

Full of boredom, you turned the TV on hoping something could entertain you there.

But then you saw this:

"Hello, Gotham City! We're the Maniax and I'm Jerome, the shot caller of our little gang. We're here to spread the message of wisdom and hope!"

You couldn't believe your eyes. It was Jerome with a bloody nose who cackled shortly, then shot a cop because he coughed and groaned in pain - he apparently disturbed his little show. He was back, he escaped out of Arkham.

Your body was shaking, your breathe was uneven - you were paralyzed.

You started panicking. No place felt safe for you anymore, especially not your little apartment. You needed to be with someone. You thought, when you're alone you'd be fucked. Maybe he remembered you and wanted to look for you? You remembered that he told you, he'd choose you over others. Of course, they could have been just words but now you never know... He was a psycho who might remember everything.

"Some people have no manners." He took a deeper look in the camera "You're all prisoners. What you call sanity, it's just a prison in your minds that stops you from seeing that y'all are a just tiny little cogs in a tiny absurd machine! WAKE UP!"

Jerome yelled in the TV what made you flinch and you curled up in your couch wrapping your arms around your legs tight. Your face was half hidden being your knees that you were still able to watch his little show - but with fear.

"Why be a cog? Be free like us!" Jerome started to cackle "And just remember, smile" he cackled squishing the dead cop's cheek while cackling louder.

Then you heard horns honking, the police was haunting him.

"Oh, time to go!" He crawled down do the ground taking a police head on and still held the camera tight "But dont worry, we'll be back very soon! Hang onto your hats folks, 'cause you ain't see nothing yet!" Jerome cackled insanely but you immediately turned the TV off.

You grabbed your phone fast to call your best friend (Y/bff/n). You needed to be with them. Being alone in a little apartment would just driving you nuts, especially when Jerome was out!

Your best friend was the only one who knew about Jerome being your one off as they knew that Jerome was a killer so they surely understood why you were so scared. You didn't want to risk anything - whether he'd remember you or not, you didn't want to be alone.

Your phone was ringing, you hoped they'd pick up the phone:

(Y/bff/n): hey (Y/n)! Wha-...

(Y/n): Have you watched the news?!

(Y/bff/n): Uhm...no, why? And why are y-...

(Y/n): Jerome's out of Arkham!!

(Y/bff/n): Wait what?! Are you sure it's the Jerome you're thinking of??

(Y/n): he was in the TV...he's planning something... Can stay with you? I can't stay alone. It's driving me nuts. I already have the feeling he's eyeing me from several corners.

(Y/bff/n): Of course! Come over now. We'll get your stuff later.

(Y/n): Thank you! I'm on my way already! See you!

You hung up, immediately taking your jacket, your phone, your keys and some shoes.

You ran out of your apartment, locking your door and walked straight to the next bus station.

You were in a hurry. Outside you didn't feel well at all. You felt being watched, being haunted. You had the feeling Jerome was everywhere and that he just waited the perfect moment to catch you. Everytime someone was walking past you, you felt shivers down your spine and you were scared that any person was a member of 'the Maniax' and kidnap you and bring you to Jerome. You walked faster to the bus station to arrive your best friend's home as fast as possible. You turned your head to the left, to the right, to see whether someone was haunting you. No one did though. It was just your mind.

As you arrived station, the bus came immediately.

You entered the bus as it stopped and chose a seat in the back.Everywhere around you cheerleaders were gossiping, laughing, squeaking about any boy who kissed a friend and such. You instead kept quiet and looked out of the window.

After a few minutes of driving, the bus stopped through a red car from the fire service that blocked its way. Its horns were honking and you could hear someone was getting out of the car.

You saw a ginger guy dancing out of the car on his way to the entrance of the bus. Your heart stopped. Was it Jerome? Was now the moment where you life will end?

He knocked at the door with something, the cheerleaders started to scream.

Something bad will happen now was what you thought while your pulse was running, your sweat was dripping down your forehead, and your hands were shaking. You wanted to cry, you wanted to crawl back in a corner and hope everything will be fine.

Suddenly the door opened, strangers in white suits with guns entered the bus and put us all in handcuffs that were sticker on chains while they pointed their guns at your heads. But for an unknown reason they went out immediately after everyone in the bus was handcuffed.

Cheerleaders were screaming louder, some even started to cry, to son, and to beg for mercy. You instead kept quiet. You couldn't scream. You were in shock and panic, in fear, some tears were already streaming down your cheeks while you tried break free - you failed.

"I want you all to know," you suddenly heard a familiar voice that paralyzed you in shock - he was here "this was a very difficult decision for us. It was between you and uhm... senior citizen bingo party. In the end we decided to skew a little younger. Youth won the day. Sorry." Jerome walked through the bus eyeing each cheerleader girl and pointed his gun at their heads.

With every step he did, you could hear a clicker-clacker caused by his shoes.

Your heartbeat felt like it could explode every minute. You had the feeling you would die soon. More and more tears streamed down your face, you were sobbing in fear, your hands shook uncontrollably. You just wished, you'd come out here alive.

Then Jerome stopped walking, he was eyeing you in surprise and excitement.

"(Y/n)?!" He bended down to you in astonishment completely around him that all the cheerleaders around him were crying and sobbing, and so were you "My, my, my, look at you. You've grown up in that time we haven't seen each other. How you're doing?"

You said nothing, you were just confused about his behavior.

What was wrong with him? Just a few minutes ago he was about to kill us and now he's behaving like an innocent child?! Was what you thought as you just gave him a confused look.

You were still scared though, maybe again he was just playing with your mind as one year ago just to get you?

"It's so good to see you (Y/n), you know that?" He sighed with a smile on his face leaning his elbow against the seat in front of you to lean his head against his hand "I really couldn't stop thinking about you when I was busted in this dirty old shack. The night in my trailer with you...it was marvellous! I still know each part of your body in detail...it brought me many good nights in my cell." Jerome chuckled dark.

You didn't know what to say. Was he about to kill you now? Was it all just a trick again? Do you have to feel honored now that he thought about you every night and jerked off your body?

You stared into his blue eyes, you could tell he was planning something new - and this time it included you.

"Yeah," Jerome kept staring at you with his grin in his face "Anyways, what's new in your life?"

"U-uhm...p-pretty boring...," You sniffed "Nothing has r-really changed since l-last y-year." You stammered feeling odd about having a normal conversation in such an actually dangerous situation.

"Hm..." Jerome hummed flicking his tongue "You know, actually I wanted to splash gasoline all over the cheerleaders and burn them but...now that you are here... I take you with me and THEN I continue my plan." Jerome uncuffed your hands taking them tight and ran with you out of the bus, the other cheeleaders started to scream and cry again and again begged for mercy.

As you and Jerome stood in front the open entrance of the bus, he softly wiped some hair strains behind your ear. With his thumb he caressed your soft skin and wiped all the tears and smeared mascara away.

Jerome smiled at you admiring your face for a while. He looked deep in your eyes, then down to your lips. With a finger snip your fear was gone, the feeling of uncomfortableness faded slowly. Your breathe was uneven though, his personality changes scared you still. Your hands was still trembling, your knees weak. But something told you that you didn't need to be scared of him anymore. He at least safed you.

"From now on, doll, you're mine."

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

Text

Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

#gta v #grand theft auto v #michael de santa #trevor philips #young trikey #franklin clinton #lamar davis #lester crest #amanda de santa #steve haines #midnight city au

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1tsnoya · 4 years

Note

HI love can you do a HC where the reader is in like a 'team slumber party" w the whole Karasuno vbc bc hONESTLY my heart is so soft for that idea like they're all jus vibing 😭😭 love my babies so much

IMPORTANT | a/n: i believe that i’m shadowbanned so my message history disappeared and my posts will probs slack for a bit >:( pls don’t mind </3 super sorry babes ! hopefully it gets resolved soon

✧･ﾟkarasuno sleepover✧･ﾟ headcanons

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

↳ it was like 2 in the morning and the gc with the volleyball club was blowing up

↳ everyone was awake and it was just CHAOS

↳ so it made you wonder — wtf would a giant sleepover with us all be like

↳ so u asked just that in the gc

↳ the responses were...

tsuki: no way

yams: cmon it’d be so much fun!!

kageyama: sure

hinata: LETS DO IT

noya: FUCK IT UPPP

tanaka: YUH GET INTO IT

daichi: sounds interesting

tsuki: fine

suga: i’m down!

asahi: me too!

yachi: i’m scared

kiyoko: it’ll be fine yachi

↳ so it was scheduled for friday night at 6pm

↳ and when everyone got there WOW it was so loud there was so much going on

↳ everyone finally calmed down when pizza was ordered hksksjhs

↳ a debate about pineapple on pizza went down

↳ HUGE SUPER MARIO PARTY GAME HOLY SHIT

↳ there were 12 of you (including yourself) and max was 8 players so kiyoko, yachi, asahi, and tanaka sat out

↳ tanaka was yelling at noya and hyping him up though and so was asahi at suga

↳ hinata picked diddy, kageyama picked the goomba, tsuki picked bowser jr, yamaguchi picked shy guy, suga picked yoshi, daichi picked donkey kong HSHSJJSH, and noya picked wario obvi

↳ so. much. SCREAMING

↳ tanaka: “NOYA OHMY- dont fuck this up you need to roll 4- LETS GO BABY LETS GET A-”

↳ he rolled a 4 pure luck and him and tanaka started running around screaming “LETS GOOOOO”

↳ tsuki: “you have 0 stars”

↳ noya: “wtf i’m still gonna win-”

↳ daichi was clueless at first but then really started getting into it

↳ suga was hyping everyone up but was super determined to win

↳ kageyama had the WORST luck. he could have sworn that the game was against him

↳ hinata made fun of him HAA

↳ SUPER CLOSE GAME BETWEEN SUGA AND TSUKISHIMA

↳ tsuki won are u fr?

↳ after another round, tanaka and noya suggested spin the bottle

↳ sigh

↳ they obviously were hoping to kiss kiyoko

↳ she played ONE round. ONE

↳ landed on yachi ofc<3

↳ SO MUCH YELLING WHEN IT WAS JUST A QUICK AND SMALL PECK BETWEEN THEM

↳ yachi was so nervous it was hilarious

↳ OH AND THEN IT LANDED ON TSUKISHIMA AND YAMAGUCHI

↳ tsuki did it like it was NOTHING

↳ cue the screaming. again

↳ after a few more turns, it started getting late so asahi took some uno cards out of his bag

↳ everybody changed into their jammies and sat in a circle

↳ hinata was wearing some old tee from grammar school as his pj shirt and the first and second years FLAMED him

↳ anyways. uno game. right

↳ tell me why daichi got the worst cards every turn

↳ hinata was peeking at other people’s cards

↳ kageyama was pissed off by how many cards he kept having to pick up

↳ so. many. plus 4 cards. from suga

↳ but ohohoh he got some karma

↳ yamaguchi placed down a +4 to give to yachi (he picked it up and was s o s o r r y) then she placed another one down to give to hinata, THEN HE PLACED ANOTHER +4 AND LASTLY TANAKA ADDED 4 AND GAVE IT TO SUGA

↳ 16 fucking cards- he was scared

↳ yamaguchi won <3

↳ and then asahi whipped out another game

↳ family feud....

↳ you can already tell how bad this is gonna get

↳ team #1 consisted of: hinata, kageyama, daichi, yachi, nishinoya

↳ team #2: tsukishima, asahi, suga, kiyoko, tanaka

↳ yamaguchi wanted to be the steve harvey of the night so you helped him keep track of points

↳ in the gc, asahi texted a msg for someone to bring a button

↳ tanaka brought a “nut” one 💀

↳ you placed it in the middle of the table. boom. what could go wrong?

↳ round one began...

↳ tanaka vs daichi

↳ yams: “name something you find sand in after a day at the beach”

↳ the fucking button SLAMMED AGAINST THAT TABLE AND SOUNDED LIKE IT WAS GOING TO BREAK

↳ tanaka: “MY ASS-”

↳ the GIGGLING THAT ESCAPED EVERYONE’S MOUTHS-

↳ daichi was just “:O um. my turn-or?”

↳ noya: did he get the point?

↳ kageyama: he is on the OTHER TEAM

↳ hinata: i guess but it was a good answer..

↳ i’m pretty sure you can already guess what team won

↳ a few more rounds were played and it was like midnight so you put a movie on

↳ tanaka noya and hinata sat in the front, laughing at every single thing going on

↳ kageyama: “hinata if u don’t shut ur FUCKING MOUTH”

↳ yamaguchi: “can you raise the volume?”

↳ tsukishima: “no they just need to shut the fuck up before i go over there and-”

↳ a pillow was thrown...

↳ shit went down..

↳ asahi: “come on guys let’s just watch the movie”

↳ daichi threw a pillow at him

↳ cue the surprised pikachu face @ daichi

↳ yachi was sCared

↳ so her, kiyoko, and you snuck off to the bathroom while chaos erupted between the boys

↳ kiyoko: “okay when they all fall asleep, i want to mess with them”

↳ yachi: “are you sure that they won’t kill us-?”

↳ OHOHOHO a plan was devised

↳ you three waited until the screaming died down a bit and then walked out

↳ feathers everywhere, uno cards all over the floor, and the nut button was smashed...

↳ wtf happened you left to the bathroom for like 6 minutes-

↳ “ummm...”

↳ “so...”

↳ “bed..time?”

↳ it was 1:30 in the morning and i’m sure you can already tell who was wide awake

↳ daichi, kageyama, asahi, yamaguchi, and tsukishima were trying to get ready to sleep

↳ you and the girls were trying to stay awake for your little plan

↳ hinata, noya, tanaka, and suga were just... wired

↳ yeah did suga surprise u? nope not me. that boy is chaotic at sleepovers don’t @ me

↳ they set up a smash game (while the others were sleeping) so tsuki woke back up to beat everyones ass-

↳ it started getting loud until daichi got up like - “shut✨the fuck✨up✨”

↳ so everyone quieted down HSJSHS

↳ you joined in on the game and teams were formed

↳ you and tsuki vs hinata, noya, and suga

↳ tsuki: “just pls don’t fuck this up-”

↳ you and him won😫obvi

↳ at the end when it was only tsuki and suga, he kept RUNNING AWAY FROM HIM

↳ suga was just — :p u cant catch me

↳ and when he did.. yikes..

↳ everyone eventually fell asleep

↳ except you, kiyoko, and yachi

↳ kageyama grumbles in his sleep, daichi sleeps like a serial killer, suga was just-he looked like an angel, asahi was lowkey breathing loud, noya and tanaka were SPOONING, hinata kicks in his sleep, tsuki sleeps with his headphones in?? and yamaguchi turns around every second

↳ it was time for the plan nehehehe

↳ kiyoko put makeup on kageyama, tanaka, and asahi

↳ yachi started doodling on daichi’s, noya’s, and yamaguchi’s faces

↳ you put an alarm set to go off in the morning and blast ‘deepthroat’ by cupcakke on tsuki’s phone ***yes he still had his headphones in

↳ and you all put some creepy clown doll right next to hinata’s face so that it could be the first thing he wakes up to

↳ next thing you know it’s 7AM and all you hear is “hUMPME FUCK ME-”

↳ tsuki was the first one awake and was already grumpy

↳ he thought that it was noya and tanaka’s idea to mess with him so he like shoved them awake

↳ “cupcakke? really?” and then he stopped to look at their faces

↳ yachi drew some fucked up shit on noya’s face and tanaka was wearing red lipstick with pink eyeshadow

↳ “it’s too early for this...” HE LEFT TO THE BATHROOM LMFAO

↳ oh god and then everyone woke up

↳ you and the girls were fake sleeping and listening to it all go down

↳ breakfast was.. interesting

↳ hinata was traumatized from that clown incident (he scream sounded like it came from his little sister) the boys were trying to rub off their makeup and it was smudged all over their faces, and the other boys were just ... trying to ignore the drawings on them

↳ ofc yachi drew a mustache on daichi

↳ oh and noya was trying to play the drawings off as tattoos😔

↳ you don’t even wanna know about breakfast-

↳ everyone agreed on pancakes and well...

↳ batter was everywhere and the smoke detector went off

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boys-from-santacarla · 3 years

Note

can I request a David X Michael smut? if you're not comfortable then I totally understand :)

Notes: Ok, so first off: thank you so much for your request🤍. Second: this is my very first time writing a one shot about these boys, so I came up with this because I'm sure David's kink is to watch Michael hunt, so I tried my best. I don't know if this is what you were expecting, but I really really hope you like it 🤞🏻❤️. I accept feedback, writing advices, constructive criticism 😂, and more comments you want to let me know! I'm sorry you had to wait so much, btw, but I'm new on editing long posts on Tumblr.

Word Count: 1461

Warnings: NSFW, cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, blowjob, handjobs, and basically just gay vampires.

Fast Learner (David x Michael)

They were on their way back to the cave. It had been four months since his turning, so by now the things coming with being a vampire were already accepted by Michael. But the midnight killings were still hard to get used to.

"You were good tonight, Michael." David commented interrupting his moral dilemma and sliding his arm over his shoulders. He tried to smile kindly and accepted the embrace.

"He says that 'cause he wants to get in your pants!" Paul joked from behind.

Everyone laughed and David gave him the finger, only increasing the laughs from the others.

"But he's right, Mike." Dwayne's deep voice added "You were better this time." Michael only nodded.

They quickly walked down the stairs and everyone went separate ways to get ready to catch some rest. Mike had some plans to get clean and prepare to get back home, but before he could totally get away from David's grasp, the blonde applied more force to keep him in place.

"Where you think you're going?" He asked amused.

"The sun's getting out and I still need to go home." He reminded him in an obvious tone. It was hard to maintain his normal life and keep up with his nocturnal schedule.

David's eyebrows raised up "Don't you think you'll need to look more... Normal?" He said grinning referring to his blood-soaked clothes. "Mom Emerson never told you to get clean after going out to play?" He laughed a little.

Mike decided to play clown too "So that's the only reason I'll need to delay my fly back? Get decent to go out?" He snapped back and bit his lip watching the other's mouth. David's eyes sparkled in delight. Straight to the point was his thing. So It didn't took more than three seconds to place Michael between his cold body and the wall with his hungry lips ravishing him.

He kept his fists on Michael's shirt, grinding his hips against the other boy to give his cock some needed friction.

"You really did good out there tonight. Making those pricks scream..." He whispered, lightly brushing the other's lips with his words. He stucked his tongue out and marked a wet path from jaw to cheekbone, then made a trail to the lobe and bit it. "Gave me a memorable show". He would never admit it out loud, but seeing Michael participate so vividly in their huntings always turned him on.

"I think I've learned from the best." Whispered the brunette while sliding his hands from David's waist to his ass. Then he took possession of the exposed neck with his teeth and tried to place a mark. David moaned and took hold of Michael's clothed cock to control his body and switch places. Now with him in between the wall and Mike, their kissing got rapidly messy, with both nibbling and sucking any exposed area. And Michael swore if he wasn't his new self, he would now be hot all over.

"But still you make a mess of yourself" David separated his mouth from the collarboone in mid attack and yanked the blood stained shirt. Michael knew he was right; it was normal to get back from their hunting with some blood on them, but not this much. So he put some inches of separation between them to lift his shirt and tossed it aside.

"Better this way?" He asked smirking.

"Yeah." David breathed taking in sight the defined pecs and strong abdomen. Wasting no more time he took hold of Michael's right hand and pulled it to his bulge. "Your technique at sucking still needs improvement tho."

"And you're volunteering to let me practice?" Mike replied almost in awe.

"Always"

Michael have him one last hot kiss, roughly biting his mate's lower lip at the end, and began his way down. His cold hands roamed David's belly underneath his shirt, sensually caressing his abdomen. The only thing the newly turned vampire hated about giving David head was the struggle with so many layers of clothes.

"Why don't you ever take this fucking coat off anyway? You're too cold?" Michael grumbled half joking, never taking his hands off.

"You're testing your luck, you know that?" If he was someone else, he would definitely be far gone by now, David thought.

But at least he was doing a great job.

Settling on his knees, he got to his target. He pressed his face to the already fat bulge and wetly kissed the thick layer of fabric. Then he slowly unzipped it and took it out of its confines, earning a low moan and two hands starting to stroke his soft curls.

Before going any further he looked up and saw David's head leaned on the wall with his eyes half closed. He grinned in contentment, feeling a mix of amusement, excitement and happiness realizing the power he had over this creature in vulnerable moments like this.

He took in one hand the cock before him and David inahled a sharp breath when it was softly squeezed at the base. This was followed by a leisure lick from the bottom to the top. As if savouring it for the first time, Michael gave it a couple of more tastes to then take the crown in his mouth, smacking his lips when he pull it out.

"Fuck, Michael" David breathed.

"That can come later" Mike answered and resumed his work putting the crown in his mouth again, this time giving it shelter a few more seconds before taking it deeper in his mouth. To cover the part left behind he moved his hand to massage it in rhythm with his mouth, and with the other hand he fondle his balls to gently roll and weigh them.

David kept moaning in appreciation, putting some pressure on Mike's skull and tugging at some strands to keep control of the pace, bobbing the head at his pleasure.

Without any more control in himself, David cradled the head with his palms pressing both cheeks and began to frantically fuck Michael's mouth.

"Shit. I love you can handle this" he praised while moving his thump to open more the wet cavity. His panting went wild as well as his movements, causing Michael to give up and just relax his throat to take as much as David gave him.

"Michael you keep it like that and I'm coming soon." David said and then stopped his fucking. He whined and pulled out dripping cock. "Get up" he ordered. Michael obligued and tried to gain some balance putting his hands on David's waist.

"You got big hands, babe." David mentioned "Why don't you work them on us." He commanded unbuckling Michael's jeans while Mike himself spitted on his palm to add slickness. When Michael's dick sprung free, he brought their hardnesses together. The touch made them both gasp, but in search for more Mike took both cocks more firmly in his right hand and changed his angle a bit to fit them correctly in the grasp.

Both moaned feeling their swelled dicks move together, and David said, controlling his tone to not sound pleading "Move."

And Michael began the strokes. At first he struggled to keep both cocks in his hand, so he adjusted his fingers to handle them better and began to catch velocity.

Michael started to feel dizzy with pleasure. With the adrenaline from the hunting still flowing through his veins, the sexual act felt even more powerful. So he put his head on David shoulders and moaned louder. "Damnit." He squeezed harder on their cocks.

"Yes. Yes. Just like that, babe." David panted in his ear. He then took hold of his neck with one hand and licked the other to lubricate it before moving it down to help make a better hold on themselves. They both began trusting in matched tempo, seeking their mutual release. They keep thrusting as brutally as they could.

Moments past before Michael whined, signaling his closeness "Oh, god. God, Im gonna come! I'm gonna-" he groaned and lost control of himself, spurting his load, getting both their hands and bellies sticky. The excitement making his body loose made his fangs come out, biting David's shoulder while spasming.

With Michael's hand reflexing involuntarily, and David's hand milking the last of him with hard strokes, David came too, sighing satisfied with relief. After a few recovering moments he noticed Michael's hand had fallen, breaking the contact on the now resting organs, but still felt the fangs cutting through his rough skin. Albeit not hurt, he protested the injury trying to catch his lover's attention clearing his throat. When Michael didn't respond, he tried again taking a deep breath and speaking "I still need to teach you to control those." He then smiled

Michael chuckled.

#the lost boys oneshot #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys michael x david #michael emerson #michael the lost boys #david the lost boys #gays being vamps #my writings

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

lucky accidents

pairing: geralt/jaskier

fandom: the witcher (tv)

rating: teen and up

word count: 2408

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Jaskier's dog runs away. He might have to sneak into a random house to get her. Needless to say, it's going to be an interesting night. (modern au, teacher jaskier, single dad geralt)

(a ridiculous meet-cute(slash ugly??) and geraskier being chaotic as a very late birthday present for the queen Sabrina / @poirot my love!!! really really hope you like this fic babeee 💖 and thank you my ride or die Cat / @inafaithforgotten for beta reading for me, saved my ass once more MWAH 💕✨ enjoy!!)

read on ao3

Out of all the ridiculously stupid and awfully humiliating things Jaskier’s done in his life, this has got to take the cake.

Granted it isn’t completely his fault. Promise.

It’s rather Buttercup’s fault, his darling beloved cocker spaniel, who’s decided to pay a visit to a random house’s garden, and house, right in the middle of their perfectly fine 2am walk, thank you very much.

Curse her loveable face. He supposes she gets her curiosity and recklessness from himself, really.

And in the end, what can Jaskier do other than try to find a way in?

It’s taken him three months to get her rid of that habit of eating just about everything dropped on the floor (his local vet probably hates him), so he’d be damned if he’s gonna lose his baby to a stranger.

Maybe he’s way past sleep deprived right now. Maybe he’s had a couple of rums in his coffee. Maybe he has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

But, oh, what a perfect time for an adventure!

Okay, if he was in his right state of mind at this point, he’d probably stopped in his tracks and realised there’s a perfectly sensible way of solving this problem, involving a fucking door bell.

Alas, as mentioned earlier, embarrassing.

Whether it’s the daunting scenario of disturbing someone’s beauty sleep or the judgement a stranger might lay upon him from having a dog who doesn’t listen to him that scares him the most, Jaskier isn’t really sure.

So, here he is.

It took a little less than an hour for him to decide his plan of action, after about ten minutes of frantic searching, ten minutes of dawning realisation, and the rest a frantic panic staring at the god forsaken house.

Ultimately, Jaskier climbs over what he assumes is the gate to the backyard. Remember, definitely not sober right now.

It’s moments like these that leave him wondering how he ever landed his teaching job, but he prays to whatever gods might be up there that this doesn’t end up with him losing it. He’s too fucking passionate about that school and those kids to let it go.

But fuck! He wants his dog back!

Jaskier lands in the backyard, right to his assumption, and well, now that he’s officially trespassing on private property, he can’t really chicken out.

Luckily, a window is propped open for his convenience. It’s an extremely hot summer night, as the last two weeks proved, so he’s in no way surprised.

And a plastic chair and table-set to jump from, wonderful!

Don’t think about the illegality of all this too much. Jaskier’s trying his best.

At least, he proves that to himself climbing in, surprising himself in how quiet he can be. Even dodging a potted plant on the window sill, he sets his foot on wooden floor, huh, those years of ballet did pay off after all.

And, yes, he took his shoes off beforehand, duh, he’s not an idiot.

But soon enough, well… uh, let’s say that’s as far as Jaskier’s plan went. Now he’s officially breaking into a home , and he’s standing as if glued in place, staring at the living room that looks stuck in a forgotten century.

Focus!

He ponders on calling her name, or rather, whispering, but Buttercup’s familiar, frantic running footsteps get ahead of him.

“Buttercup!” he whispers, willing his voice as stern as possible for the troublemaker, “Come on, girl!”

Shakes are heard, more padding of feet, and his baby comes running along from what looks like the kitchen. He’s, like, 50% sure, it’s dark and the rum is making the world a little crooked.

Thank heavens she hasn’t broken anything.

And thank heavens he’s in time to shush her before the inevitable bark comes. She looks so clueless, but so happy with her big twinkling eyes, it’s a bit annoying.

She’s in deep, deep trouble for this. Can’t get out of this that easy. Nope.

Jaskier’s gonna scold her anyway, but right now, relief washes over him more than anything else. Entry succeeded, goal obtained, now it’s time for his exit.

To be honest, not really something he planned, either. But surely the way in works the other way around too, right?

See, that’s the funny thing, because it’s not his happy pup smashing anything in her spontaneous adventure, no, it’s when he heads back for the window the crash happens. Or, well, he thinks it’s the way for the window, the general direction at least, but Jaskier’s hip meets with a table, and he’s pretty sure a lamp’s involved in the fall.

That really hurt, thanks for asking.

But instead of fleeing the scene even faster, like any sensible person would do, he’s frozen half-standing, half-leaning against the windowsill, as light switches on in a room down the hall, and a voice calls, “Dad?”

Shit . Why is Jaskier drunk doing this? Why is he doing this at all?

Buttercup tilts her head at him and he’s none the wiser. He really does try to move, but then she’s running off again and he can’t even get to chase after her before a high pitched scream meets his eardrums.

He’s caught.

Yep, he’s so caught, because he’s an idiot who didn’t jump out the window when he should, and soon enough he’s being hit over the head with a slipper. Best night ever.

Jaskier becomes a bit of a flailing mess of limbs, attempting to dodge without much success while Buttercup starts barking excitedly somewhere in the other room. He even throws out a couple of “Ow!”s, because, seriously, that slipper hurts, what the fuck?

He can’t exactly blame his attacker, of course. In fact, very much the reaction he’d have himself. Still, he’s rather glad the hits come to a halt when the room is suddenly illuminated, the lamp he pushed over staring at him in offense.

The gruff voice from the hallway surprises him, when it says, “Princess?”

However, he’s a little more than shocked right now, because once Jaskier blinks himself to clear vision, he sees a young girl in front of him he in no way expected to meet today. Tonight. Whatever.

Ciri, one of his students, is clutching a blue slipper, used as a weapon only seconds ago, to her chest while staring at him with teacup wide eyes.

Well, this just got a hell of a lot more embarrassing.

And when Jaskier averts his eyes from the blonde girl, a giant blonde man who he can only assume is Ciri’s father, with arms that he’s pretty sure could snap him in half like a twig, is staring with a similar shocked expression, face twisted to a frown.

Why, oh, why in the name of all that is sacred and good, is the first thought jumping into Jaskier’s mind how he’d let those arms do all sorts of things to him.

You absolute goddamn clown. His brain’s too busy scolding him to say anything, but turns out he doesn’t need to since his pup jumps his student happily, because she doesn’t understand the situation at all and just found new friends in her post-midnight scavenger hunt.

He thinks he might’ve hit a new low at this point.

However, Ciri frees him of her father’s scrutinizing eyes for a minute, as she giggles in excitement, and now looks up at Jaskier with such a huge grin her cheeks are bound to hurt, “Mr. Jaskier!”

Okay. Okay, out of all the homes he could’ve possibly intruded in, this definitely isn’t a worse case scenario. Luck, maybe?

Not that he feels particularly lucky looking back at the man watching the scene, looking rather, uh, furious, which is understandable.

“You know this man?” he questions his daughter before Jaskier even gets time to consider his options, and the young girl looks back with an eager nod.

He himself is pretty much frozen in place.

Kind of fearing the brick wall of a man will murder him on the spot if he even moves an inch. Practically already killing him with his eyes only. Embarrassingly enough, he finds that even more attractive. Think with your head , idiot.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s face is painted with brief confusion, “My music teacher, dad! Didn’t you listen when I told you? Mr. Jaskier’s classes are my favorite.”

The girl seats herself on the floor and scratches Buttercup behind the ears, who seems to finally have used up all her energy for the day.

Ciri maintains her excitement, though, while looking painfully disappointed at her father. The man instantly reacts, it seems, because the glare vanishes into thin air, his stance less volatile, his expression almost… soft?

That word doesn’t exactly fit the blonde man, but it makes Jaskier feel a lot of ways. Man, is he drunk or just horny at this point?

“Of course I did.” his student’s father tells her, still eyeing him warily while apologising, “That doesn’t explain what your teacher is doing in our house, princess. At night.”

Jaskier wants to fucking die.

He tries to stammer something out, it takes, uh, a while, only landing on, “My dog.”

The blonde man frowns again.

Ciri still has zero judgement in her eyes, God bless her, and he laughs nervously in the attempt to elaborate, “Buttercup here, she, uh, ran away from me. In here. Didn’t wanna wake ya. Sorry.”

And Jaskier shakes his head at himself like it’s second nature. Well, sort of is. If you knew all the stupid shit he accidently gets himself into, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Luckily, his (favorite) student just giggles when Buttercup licks her hand, and her father seems degrees less inclined to call the cops, so that’s good. Ciri even asks him if she can give the pup a treat, and Jaskier can’t exactly say no to that, can he?

Buttercup’s clearly in love with her now, it’s adorable.

Which is why it makes him feel like a bit of an asshole when he clears his throat and tells the duo it’s probably time for him to make his exit. Ciri’s heart might as well have just shattered in pieces in front of him.

But he’s just still pretty terrified of her father’s rather menacing figure. Note to self to not be present at that parent-teacher conference.

The eye candy, though.

Focus on not getting arrested, Jaskier!

Ultimately, she looks to her dad and stands up hesitantly, her and the pup looking at each other like they’re being torn apart for eternity, and then directs her pleading eyes back to him, “Could I walk her sometime, Mr. Jaskier? Please ?”

His student drags out the word almost to the point where she loses her breath, and Jaskier can’t help his chuckle. Thankfully, her dad gives him a look of approval.

“Sure thing, kid.”

In return, he gets his second scare of the day when Ciri screeches again, only for a few seconds when she probably remembers it’s the dead of the night, and jumps for a hug. Bless her heart, but he can’t help still feeling utterly embarrassed.

Jaskier pats her back before she lets go and her father ushers her to her room, and the yell “Goodnight!” is way too endearing, although it was most likely more directed to his pup than himself, fair enough.

Well, then. He finds himself standing around awkwardly, nervously still not moving until said giant of a man crosses his arms and gets Jaskier out of his own head.

“Ah, well, that’ll be my leave then.” he says, looking everywhere else than the person in front of him, scratching his neck.

It’s almost obvious he’s getting a cold shoulder until the deep voice speaks again, “Make sure to use the door this time.”

Yup, he deserves that.

To be honest, Jaskier can’t quite believe he’s… uh, survived this. Better not jinx it, though.

“I, sir, uh,” he starts, holding out a hand for Buttercup to follow along, “I cannot stress how sorry I am for this. Seriously. If you tell my superiors about this, I’ll understand, uhm, I guess I just want to let you know I thoroughly enjoyed teaching your daughter.”

And the blonde is frighteningly silent once more, though he lifts one eyebrow, whatever the hell that means.

At last, a sigh.

“Well, I hope you’ll continue.” are the words coming next, shocking enough, Jaskier almost thinks he’s sound-hallucinating, or something, “Apology accepted. Nobody’s hurt, and Cirilla seems to like you quite a lot.”

He honestly can’t help but smile, in relief more than anything else. Buttercup barks once, and the man glances down. “And your dog, too.”

Is- is that a smile? Jaskier can’t really tell, because it looks oddly out of place with, well, everything else about him. Not that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

The not-so-scary-anymore man even opens the door for him, gosh, he does like his men with good manners!

Maybe, possibly, he really needs to sober up. Or eat something, now that he thinks about it.

“Then, adieu!” he offers with a little flourish of his hand, but while the pup’s already running eagerly out into the rose bushes, the blonde man stops him in his tracks with, “I suppose you’d like my number.”

There’s that familiar awkwardness again! Jaskier realises this when all he can do is gape like a moron, but honestly, those might be the most surprising out of this whole evening. That says a lot.

He finds himself stammering, “Uhm, uh, pardon?”

The giant’s already writing it down on a fucking post-it note. “So you don’t have to use the window when Ciri’s going to walk her new friend over there.”

Jaskier blinks, “Ah!” Of course, what else? He’s bordering on a thin line to delusion, truly, “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” he repeats back, and Jaskier pockets the note hilariously quickly himself.

Good, good, don’t humiliate yourself even more now. He guesses he can be thankful he’s just sober enough to not try one of those… horrendous pick-up lines of his.

Guess the eye candy will be enough.

He gives the blonde a nod at last, taking his final leave after a way too strange night, but not before the man forms that almost-smile, pretty sure it’s a smile, again (good God, did he just check out his ass, or has Jaskier officially lost it?) and says, “Name’s Geralt, by the way.”

Jaskier nearly chokes on his own breath.

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

Thoughts (if any) on DC's April 2021 solicitations?

Let’s take ‘em in order! I should be able to muster up a comment on just about everything one way or another.

Green Lantern #1: Oh this is gonna be bad. Heard only the worst about Thorne’s Future State: Green Lantern, and I assume Jo Mullein’s DCU debut will be wasted here to either function as some kind of ridiculous ‘popularity contest’ with Teen Lantern for who gets the bigger push, or as a way to put TL over with a few “good work kid, you got a future” comments. Also, and granted I don’t know how Morrison will end or this will begin, is the New Guardians angle being immediately dropped?

Robin #1: Dope suit, art, and premise, but it’s Williamson so I don’t care.

Batman: The Dark Knight #1: I’ll read this and I expect to like it, but between this being Kubert’s first big Batman project since Master Race, the ‘old but not quite retirement age yet’ angle, and the title, I’m concerned the shock ending here is that it’s actually a stealth DKR prequel.

The Next Batman: Second Son #1: So they really are committing here, though weird that this kinda makes Ridley’s Future State book basically a longform teaser for this. And I’ll get it as it comes out since it turns out this won’t be in that John Ridley’s Batman collection after all - sorry Dustin Nguyen, I love your stuff but I won’t buy an entire trade of material I otherwise already own just for one new story by you.

The Batman & Scooby Doo Mysteries #1: I got that whole great-looking Scooby Doo Team-Up run by Fisch for free on Comixology, I should read that sometime and see if this’ll be worth getting too as well, because it sounds like a hoot.

Challenge of the Super Sons #1: Glad people who want it are getting it, I do not care.

RWBY/Justice League #1: WILL BE GETTING A POST ALL ITS OWN

Action Comics #1030: His powers waning definitely won’t help the standard pre-run fuming by a lot of Superman fandom, but it’s an interesting pairing with PKJ apparently doing mainly cosmic Superman adventures so I’m curious where he’ll go with it. That it’s particularly cited as being tied to Death Metal might validate my suspicion that the new ‘everyone remembers their entire mainstream publishing histories’ thing will play into Johnson’s description of Clark really feeling his age at the start of the run. And Janin on covers even before he gets in on the book proper! And that Midnighter description!

Superman #30: This sounds like where Johnson’s gonna start with that worldbuilding he touted, and I’m curious; definitely reads in this instance like him shoving Clark and Jon into some swords-and-sorcery-esque territory he’s familiar with.

American Vampire 1976 #7: Not reading, don’t care.

Batman #107: I assume ‘the events at Arkham Asylum’ are the ‘A-Day’ ominously brought up in Future State solicits. Tynion Batman, Jimenez as the regular artist now, whatever the Unsanity Collective is, all entirely my shit. More importantly than any of that though, GHOSTMAKER BACKUPS. And drawn by Ricardo Lopez Ortiz, artist on Steve Orlando’s excellent The Pull! Dope!

Batman: Black & White #5: Any other issue and ‘Jamal Campbell doing a life story of Nightwing’ would probably be the highlight, but in case you somehow hadn’t heard Gillen/McKelvie are making their DC debut on a Batman vs. Riddler story here, absolutely wild.

Batman: Urban Legends #2: Even more excited for this now that I’m onboard for the Grifter and Outsiders stuff given how much those features pleasantly surprised me in Future State.

Batman/Superman #17: Injecting it isn’t enough anymore, I need to be on some kind of constant IV drip with this book. I was wondering whether it’d take the premise to further generational riffs or follow a history of mass-media Supermen and Batmen, but instead it’s veering off in a direction I never could have guessed and I couldn’t be more excited.

Batman vs. Ra’s Al Ghul #6: NOTHING CAN STOP THE ADAMSVERSE. NONE MAY DARE TRY.

Batman/Catwoman #5: Wondering how this Harley involvement plays in - I don’t imagine it’s quite what it seems given how King’s written her before. And love that Joker by Mann on the cover, major Clown at Midnight vibes.

Catwoman #30: No reason to assume this run won’t continue to rule.

Crime Syndicate #2: Dammit, I don’t think this book is going to be good, but I’m kinda tempted.

Detective Comics #1035: Wouldn’t be psyched, but Dark Detective was another pleasant surprise so I’ll give this a chance.

The Dreaming: Waking Hours #9: Again, not reading.

Far Sector #11: Sucks a little knowing we’ll never see that little ‘Young Animal’ label in the corner again after this wraps. At least it’s going out on its highest note.

The Flash #769: In a vacuum this would sound dope but I have less than no faith in this, and goddamn that’s a terrible cover.

Harley Quinn #2: I’m sure it’ll be fine, no interest.

The Joker #2: I wanna believe Tynion will be able to make this work, he keeps talking like he has more freedom on this than he has some other books, but everything about this reads like the price he has to pay for relative post-Joker War freedom on Batman.

Justice League #60: It’s Bendis/Marquez on Justice League, lots of people will complain but I’ll mostly dig it. More interested in Ram V briefly getting to write the main crew in the JLD backup.

Man-Bat #3: I’d ask why this exists - and as a matter of fact I still do - but checking out some of DC’s digital-first output recently I see Dave Wielgosz has something on the ball, so maybe he’ll be able to make this work? Perhaps I’ll check it out in trade someday if worth-of-mouth is on its side.

Nightwing #79: I maintain, this is gonna be huge. And clever move to make for how to justify Nightwing keeping up his standard way of business after Bruce loses most of his money.

Rorschach #7: A comic I will purchase and let’s continue leaving it at that.

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? #109: DC’s highest-numbered comic (that hasn’t gone through an interim renumbering), astonishing. Not getting it myself, but respect.

Sensational Wonder Woman #2: Can’t say this sounds like my thing.

Suicide Squad #2: I’ve been swayed into checking out the Future State debut, but that’d have to really blow me away for me to follow into the main book.

Superman: Red & Blue #2: Sadly if unsurprisingly DC’s clearly not stacking this with AAA attention-grabbing names in the same way as this latest version of Batman: Black & White, but there do seem to be some interesting names from outside the usual big two roster here. And the main and Bolland cover may disappoint but holy cow that David Choe variant.

The Swamp Thing #2: I have no doubt it’ll be incredible but time and again I learn I simply don’t have it in me to care about Swamp Thing regardless of the objective quality of the effort put into him.

Sweet Tooth: The Return #6: Another one I’m not interested in.

Titans Academy #2: Oh lord so this is where they stuck Billy Batson.

Truth & Justice #3: I continue to have no idea what if anything the unifying idea of this anthology is supposed to be.

Wonder Woman #771: Wonder Woman as troubleshooter for mythological mishaps isn’t a permanently sustainable or desirable status quo but I’m down for it for as long as it lasts if it’s any good (though that Immortal Wonder Woman preview...concerned me, in spite of Jen Bartel’s jaw-dropping art).

So that’s 19-23 out of 37 I’ll be getting - if DC’s standard for success with Infinite Frontier is the proportion of their line people will be checking out, I guess it’s winning with me.

#DC Comics #DC: Infinite Frontier #Opinion

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jellyfishinc · 3 years

Text

Day 12 Midnight Posting

S1E11 Fear and Laughter in Burbank

Author's Note: Because of the nature of this segment and post, I have to post a trigger warning for mentions of severe anxiety and panic attacks. Do not read if you are easily triggered by either of these things.

I think this segment is officially in common knowledge territory, for obvious reasons, so it probably won’t surprise you to know that I put this off as long as possible because of how much it hurts.

But it’s still my duty to cover all segments with sibling moments, no matter what, and cover it, I shall!

And I know damn well I’d be shirking my duties as a Yakko stan if I didn’t cover the you-know-what, so fear not (ha), here I go!

The segment starts off innocently enough, where the Warners are wandering onto sets trick or treating.

Nice little shot of the three of them in their costumes, dressed up like their Marx Brothers counterparts.

Once they’re thrown out, Wakko points out a haunted house, and we see THIS.

Once they see no one’s home, leaving a bucket of candy outside, they grab one piece and go, with of course Wakko grabbing a bunch because it all stuck together.

It falls out of his hand by the cartoon wind and rolls into the street, straight into a sewer, leaving no room for imagination what this whole segment is a parody of.

The knockoff starts his whole spiel, trying to tempt Wakko to come get his candy, and once the clown shows itself, Dot does THIS, asking Wakko if he's still scared of clowns.

Wakko confirms that yes, he does in fact still hate clowns, and we see THIS.

But he quickly has a change of heart, because he thinks the knockoff actually looks like him, and proceeds to mimic his face.

And that’s all Dot needs to call him a “funny guy”, and for Yakko to label him “typical”.

Or, in simpler terms, Yakko just said the toon equivalent of, “Ya basic!”

And basically, everything Nickelwise tries to do to scare them just makes him more endearing to them, so he tells them what’s up: He’s here to eat their fears, and transforms into three balloons to entice them into chasing after him.

But right as they start running, Dot slips and falls, and we see THIS.

Dot’s fear trial is up first, which leads her into a trailer bathroom, flooding with sewer water.

She goes to turn off the water, and Nickelwise turns her reflection into an older, “less cute” version of herself.

But of course, Nickelwise has no clue that he’s dealing with Dot Warner, who’s so head over heels she starts gushing over her older reflection.

The only headcanon I will accept regarding this is that Yakko always told Dot knew how cute she was growing up, and made sure she’d appreciate the changes to her body that were sure to follow as she ages.

But whatever the reason, this causes a soul to fly out of Nickelwise’s mouth, forcing him to go after Wakko next.

Upon walking inside where his trial awaits, Wakko is met with a table of food.

As he starts to dig in, he quickly discovers what’s supposed to be the problem: none of the food is real!

But once again, Nickelwise has underestimated the middle Warner sibling’s appetite. Both the original and the reboot have shown multiple times that Wakko will literally eat anything, even Plotz’s desk, if he’s hungry enough.

The reason? Wakko was diagnosed as hypoglycemic, so Yakko saw to it he always had what he needed so he wouldn’t hurt himself.

Seeing he’s not getting anywhere with Wakko either, he goes after the final Warner sibling.

Oh boy. *takes several deep breaths* I know it’s just a cartoon, but it doesn’t make any of this even remotely easy for me to post. But I’m willfully ignoring it, because that’s how much I care.

And I absolutely have to believe that he was the only one who wasn't told what his trial was going to be beforehand by the showrunners, and yes, I absolutely have evidence to back it up.

Starts off simple enough, with him following the balloon into an empty office building.

Look at how he’s walking around. Wakko and Dot were ready for anything, but here? That’s genuine confusion. He literally has no idea what’s about to happen.

But once he adjusts, he starts his usual shtick, where he’s cracking jokes, trying to make someone laugh.

Only problem? There’s no one there. He’s by himself. With no one to laugh at or criticise him.

Let’s break this down, shall we?

(Credit to this video for pointing all of this out to me.)

First, his costume. He's dressed as Groucho Marx, who his character is based on. Apparently Groucho's biggest fear is in fact the fear of no one thinking him funny, thus tossing him aside and forgetting about him.

And on top of that Rob Paulsen probably had similar fears, since he was battling throat cancer at the time this episode was made.

Now let's break down the fears.

First, the fear of being alone. More often than not, Yakko is never by himself, always doing the segments with Wakko and Dot, all three of them playing off of each other.

The second, is that Yakko needs a reaction, positive or negative. Without it, none of his jokes land quite right, and he ceases to be the one that yaks.

All of which is easily a direct result of being locked in a water tower for 60 years, and another 20 who-knows-where, not knowing if you’ll ever come back.

Look at what happens when he's by himself.

Woot! Second reblog post that needs a reblog! Back with the rest!

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Sixty Four. Part 3

Watching Robyn walk off to the bedroom, dragging my eyes to her butt as she did. She look good as hell right now but she is driving me crazy, I read the blogs and yes I have fucked up but in no way shape or form I cheated on Robyn, I would never do that to her but I guess the general public have made it look so bad, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have laughed and smiled with these girls because clearly they have got me in trouble, Robyn is always so quick to bring up that she made me who I am which is wack on her end but she isn’t wrong but also I don’t want to hear it and now she is going to make me suffer. Maybe I did get married too quick, maybe I did because now, I just don’t know I feel like maybe I jumped. Yes she is the love of my life but it’s just too much, I can’t move in any way now. It’s just so dramatic, leaning down to pick up the envelope from the floor, she threw that at me. I mean this could be divorce papers right now, what the hell do I know. My dad thinks everything is easy, like having girls like that in front of you is easy to resist, it really isn’t but I did it because I wouldn’t do that to her. I just looked and that was it, I am a little scared to open this actually because if this is divorce papers I will be heartbroken as fuck, I don’t want that and I would choose Robyn over anyone, I just feel it’s a little dramatic with everything. Leaning over at the table, opening the envelope sighing out. Pulling out the polaroid squinting my eyes reading the text at the back “a girl” I breathed out, turning the polaroid over. My face softened and it hit me “what?” I said to myself, turning the polaroid back over again and again. This is untrue, like this is wrong right “what” looking back at the picture, I breathed out laughing with tears forming “what, no way” she got a big head like me, a girl.

Wiping the tears as I got up from the seat, she really found out without me. Taking the polaroid with me, making my way to the bedroom. She has probably locked the door, but I cannot believe she went without me, I am going to try and be calm about this but how fucking dare she go without me, I am going to blow any minute about this. Jiggling the door handle “open the door” I said, knocking on the door as I did, I stepped back from the door “bye Chris!” she spat “you are so fucking childish, you went there without me!? You saw our baby without me, you fucking real right now Robyn. How dare you!” I shouted “be quiet! I am trying to sleep, what do you fucking care. She is just another Bajan to you and your coons” I clenched my jaw “fuck you” punching the door “that is my daughter too! I hurt you! Not my baby, remember that!” I spat, rubbing the top of my head feeling like shit “not my daughter Robyn, I didn’t hurt her!” I hit the door again as I walked off, I fucked up bad. I fucking hate this shit, she fucking did me wrong, how fucking dare she.

Robyn hasn’t come out of the bedroom, but it is midnight so more then likely she is asleep, but I am angry, I am angry that she did me like that. Over the fact I went to Drake’, I made the fucking mistake, but I didn’t deserve to not be there. Tapping on the comments on India’ account, looking at the picture of her and I, I am just curious on what is being said. I cringed; they are really going in with the comments ‘Look at this bird behaviour’ scrolling down ‘A married man? Sis this is not it’ tapping on the replies ‘the married man entertained it?? Ri is the clown’ frowning at it, this is crazy. This is so out of hand; I wasn’t doing what people assume I was doing. Robyn’ fans are fucking crazy, they are cussing her out, I can only imagine my comments. Tapping on my page, seeing the last post was of Drake and I, tapping on the comments ‘Two cheating dirtbags’ I rolled my eyes ‘How you cheat on @badgaririr? This is beyond me!!!’ I breathed out, this is really bad, and I didn’t even mean this to be this bad. What if Robyn is going to leave me, what if that is actually happening and that is it, Robyn is going to make sure I don’t see our daughter. I can’t believe she took that away from me, she really took that moment from me.

I have been waiting for Jay Brown to call me, I am so hungry right now but I have packed my stuff, I am going home but I needed Jay to call me “morning, sorry for harassing you” he chuckled “it’s fine, I have been doing the same with you, have you caught up with the wanderer” I sighed out “I have, I am travelling back to California today, he will be with me. We will be walking through the airport, have my bodyguards meet me at the airport. We will be landing around four” time to clean this mess “walk of shame huh” Jay Brown laughed “yep, he won’t know what hit him. He really doesn’t see the bigger picture, but he will, I don’t even need to walk LAX but I am. Just for him, we haven’t spoke on that part actually, but I know he will be flying back with me so set that up for me, paparazzi and whatever. Time to do the walk of shame with him, I am not ashamed because I have done nothing wrong so I will be walking with my head high, him on the other hand. He will be doing what he does best now. But I need to eat, so thank you” my daughter is not happy, I feel her moving a lot I need to eat “you go and eat, I will speak to your publicist, operation clean up his mess, so you staying with him” good question “erm, he is here” that is my only answer “doghouse then, ok no problem. Speak soon” he put the phone down, Chris has never been through this so he can have nice time with this, I have had this before and I am not even going to hold his hand through it, I am not even mentioning it because they are going to hound him, it’s literally a walk of shame and he will feel it when they say the things they say to him.

Opening the bedroom door pulling my suitcase along with me, I am eating and going to be honest. Chris is right there, like just stood there in my face. I wonder how long he has been there for “I have not ate, do not even look my way” pulling my suitcase as I made my way to the dining table “the keeper came and cooked” placing my case in the corner “I know that” I don’t need him breathing down my neck, not after his shit “Miss Fenty, do you want me to warm your breakfast?” shaking my head “no thank you, this is fine. I am leaving early, thank you for your hospitality, it was nice” he bowed his head, pulling the chair out to sit down. I knew I would cry myself to sleep and I did, he has really hurt me. Everything he did and said was so hurtful and he didn’t care, he wanted me to break, he was trying so much but I got it, I did it. watching him sit down across from me, not like I asked for that, my phone started ringing and it’s my publicist “hello” I answered “morning, got your message so four is fine?” I knew they would be on it “yeah, I will deal with the rest after on what I want being said, speak soon” disconnecting the call “is she healthy?” Chris asked “who? India? She is fine, you should know that” grabbing a plate “I am being calm here, you deadass wrong” looking over at him “don’t speak to me, I am trying to have some peace” he is going to continue to talk shit.

He has been watching me eat intently, he has been silently just watching and is waiting for me to finish “I want your phone” wiping my hands “for?” he questioned “I don’t trust you, so give me your phone” I held my hand out, he is just staring at me like I slapped him “mhmm, you and these girls having a nice text about me? You think I am stupid; I know these hoes. So you are messaging girls yeah?” raising an eyebrow smiling lightly “I don’t have anything to hide, India messaged me asking if I was in trouble and I said I don’t know yet, she was still saying that she wanted me. But I just shrugged it off, I ain’t in that” he is responding, and it makes it worse “what do you want Chris? Let’s be honest, you are pushing me further and further away, you are messaging other women, I don’t care who the fuck she is. Do you not think this is bad, I mean I am not understanding your mindset” I am confused “it is bad, this is why I am telling you. Other then that I have nothing to hide” I want to slap him “now if you block India it just makes me look insecure and that I made you do it because you are messaging her, oh my god. I can’t even, you are a nasty person” getting up from the chair, I just had a feeling he was messaging her “Robyn please, you got me back. Please, I am sorry” waving him off “don’t follow me, we are going home. Don’t even touch me either” I spat.

He really messaging this chick, you know what he publicly shamed me and made people think I am the dumb bitch, he making it seem like I am the weak bitch, these bitches thinking I am the joke. I really want to kick him off this jet, let him fucking go economy but I need him to be there with me at the same time. He really playing in my face “am I a joke to you?” I asked, now he is being all innocent. I know him, I know his face and his persona. Like he is the lost puppy “no, I don’t think that of you. I wasn’t doing anything malicious I promise you, she asked a question and then said that to me, I am telling you because I have nothing to hide with you” I laughed “I look like a joke, I really do. Don’t respond I don’t want to hear it; I don’t forgive you Chris. Let’s start there, when I get home I will clean the shit you didn’t do but I don’t want you in the bed with me” I don’t want him near me “I will clean it” now he wants too “stay out of my way, what do you want? Be truthful Chris, maybe Barry is right. You have changed” he frowned at me “for having fun!? Fuck Barry” I pointed at him “lower your tone, it’s you that is in the wrong in this” who does he think he is, I swear I just didn’t expect him to say that on top of everything.

Rich and Frank are both here, Rich just stared between Chris and I because he doesn’t know what to do, pulling my midi dress down, I wore the tightest and shortest dress “you look happy” I am not sure if Rich is being sarcastic “thank you” looking behind me and Frank has got my suitcase “so we doing it the long way” I sniggered “could say” Chris can follow along like he does “I have Ben too, just it will be a little busy so we just leaving him behind?” nodding my head “they can see him behind me and attack him about it, what else do they want. He thinks they are not hating him, he needs to realise that he has upset me and the people that love me, set his ass up with the walk of shame” Rich chuckled “you look well” I needed that “a scorned woman, this is the outfit. Thank you anyways” the airport security held the door open; this is going to be long winded for us all but this needs to happen because he made it public that we have issues, he invited the public into our marriage now it has to be dealt with publicly, hope he has fun while he is at it because he made the fucking mistake in the first place.

It’s a bit long going through security, but it was quick for me, they can lock his ass up if they want. You never know with that court case he maybe; he probably needs it. Chris is not happy, they searched him the longest and questioned him, well he wants to be funny “let’s go, keep close bro” Rich said to the airport security ahead of us, turning the corner and I just felt regret because there is a lot of paparazzi. I wanted to see behind me but well, I am thinking of me “Rihanna! Rihanna! How are you?” I just laughed as both Rich and Frank kept close to me “are you and Chris in talks, Chris!” half of the paparazzi ran to him “what made you cheat on Rihanna?” overhearing them say “love you riri” oh I have fans here too, waving at them as I continued to walk. Looking behind me smiling just to peep but of course there is security there for him, I expected that because of who he is to me “how can you cheat on Rihanna loser!! This man is a loser!” someone shouted “man fuck you bro, you bitch ass. Come and say that to my face” to say the least I didn’t expect my fans to be here “I am! How do you cheat on the queen?” I just laughed putting my head down, that is funny because he is being harassed “move out, move out” seeing the SUV finally “love you Rihanna” Frank opened the SUV door, I climbed into the SUV and waved before I got inside.

He has a face on, to me I find it funny because I got the love and they hate him “are you going to tell me how my daughter is?” he spoke “my Bajan queen is fine” I mumbled “childish” I would pop him in his mouth, now that would be childish “I don’t know what you don’t get Chris, you fucked up! You know what, you are so fucking close to losing me. I still ain’t decided if I want you, you hear that? If I want you! Until you realise my worth then maybe, I don’t want you to be with me because I am having your baby” he is getting on my nerves when he keeps saying childish “I am sorry Robyn, I said to you I am sorry. I want you! Just you!” he spat “then act like it, don’t fucking think I am just going to want you already, please. Miss me with that, I hope you feel like shit not knowing how your daughter is. You are nothing like your dad, more like a Ronald” I spat “nah, because I wouldn’t do what your dad did to your mother so don’t do me like that. I am sorry and I mean it, I want my wife, I want you” not like I care “ok, let’s see if you last being publicly hung to dry” looking over at him “I regret it already” reality hitting him in the face, that is good.

I didn’t expect Mel to be home, I am so shocked “what the hell” hugging her “yes bitch, I cleaned up anyways” Mel looked at Chris “hey Chris” she said but it was forced more then anything “don’t bother” he walked off “he spat his pacifier out” I rolled my eyes “how is my niece?” she touched my bump “how you know? How you know she is having a girl” Chris turned on his heels, he stopped walking to look at us “she knew before you” I answered for Mel, I didn’t want Mel to be here because I knew he would go on some war path towards Mel “you were there weren’t you? Of course you were, this is your little revenge for Barry, because I knew about that shit. Oh yeah, I see it now. I see this shit clearly, you came running to Robyn when I fucked up and made shit worse, you probably gave Robyn the idea to run too Mexico and made her find out, you’re sick you. You’re obsessed with Robyn, you ain’t happy for her like that. You want to be the person she has to rely on, I see you Mel. You ain’t got nothing else going besides being in Robyn’ shadow, I came here, and I am doing better then you. You’re hateful” my mouth fell open “are you fucking real right now!? You fucked up and now you’re attacking me? You’re foul as fuck like your friend, you right I was there and you was where? Oh yeah, looking like a clown” walking around Mel “walk away now Chris, I am being deadass. Go!” I spat; this is why I wanted Mel not here.

Following behind Chris to the living room, closing the door behind me “how dare you attack my friend, don’t do that!” I said, Chris sniggered turning to me “because I am right, she came here. You said she did right? So her ass is involved, she has been after my ass since that Barry shit happened, your stupid ass was in her room with her and ditched me. I should have known” pressing my lips into a hard thin line “so you taking up for her then me huh?” he is switching this shit up “this is about you fucking up, do not bring her up. Do not make it about Barry, this is you and me. Calm the fuck down, watch your fucking mouth too. She didn’t do or say anything to you, she was there for me when I was crying because of you!” I shouted “I am just angry that I missed it, you both took that excitement from me. She knew before me, how you think I feel?” he is acting like I care “don’t bring Mel into this, I am asking nicely. This is between you and me, I ain’t forgiven you yet and you do this. You just don’t want me, it shows” he put his head down “I do, I seen the hate. They hate me out there, I am sorry” his sorry does actually mean nothing to me “then show me you’re sorry” I said before walking off, Mel cannot be here during this time.

I asked Mel to go, he’s using her to divert the mess of the situation and I don’t need that right now so I told her to go and she did. It was nice of her to clean up but she can’t be here, not with this situation and how nasty his mouth was with Mel too. I am in the bedroom just laying atop of my bed reading TMZ, seeing the pictures of Chris and I, I am smiling so much and Chris looks like he’s been slapped. He does look very sad, he looks very harassed by it all. They was harassing him about cheating that he didn’t do but he needs to understand it looked like that, his behaviour looked like that “Rihanna and her husband in crisis talks” I read out the headline to myself of course, scrolling down but least they call him a cheating rat here. Least he looks sad, I needed that to be honest. Looking over at the door as there is a knock, it’s Chris because he’s the only person here “what?” I said out loud “can I come in?” I would say no but I can’t “ok” I mumbled but he heard it “I don’t like being called a cheater when I didn’t do that, this is all wrong” he came to say this “but you’re messaging women, you might as well be. I want to see actions Chris, you invited the public now fix it publicly too” I know his ass don’t know what to fix “but I’m not a cheater, I didn’t cheat on you” looking over at him “and I believe you didn’t but it doesn’t excuse the fact on how you handled it, what don’t you get?” He’s stood like a lost child “I miss you” rolling my eyes “please close the door behind you” I don’t want to hear it.

#chrianna fanfiction #fanfiction #chriannaff #fanfic #chrianna ff #chrianna

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viscariaa · 4 years

Text

Day 1 - Saiouma Week - Night - Forbidden Midnight Date

Ship: Saiouma/ Oumasai

Words: 1027

Type: Phantom Thief AU/ Fluff

Trigger Warning: None

Posted: 07.30.20

Description: After a long day doing detective work, Shuichi has a date with the infamous, Phantom Thief!

“Shuichi! You’re still here! I thought your shift ended at 9 PM?” Kaede worriedly asks Shuichi as he stumbles out of Kirigiri’s Detective Agency, his black dress shoes making him nearly trip on the cement floor. “It’s midnight! What on earth are you doing?!”

Shuichi takes a deep breath, placing both hands into his black trench coat pockets. He shivers, remembering the debate between his mentor, Kyoko Kirigiri, and her partner, Makoto Naegi. “We were working on the case and we got carried away. What about you?”

“Piano concert ran late. It’s The Phantom Thief case, right?”

Shuichi nods, not trusting his words. He remembers the white uniform with checkered scarf, the white cape with top hat, and the odd clown mask. But he also remembers the secret. The promise they made a year ago.

“Shuichi, we can’t tell anyone about us. Promise me, ok?”

“Shuichi?”

Kaede’s words smack him out of his thoughts, “do you want me too?”

“H-huh? S-sorry, I was thinking,” Shuichi looks down at the floor.

“Do you want me to bring you home?” Kaede repeats her question, “who am I kidding? You look like you are about to fall over!”

“Yes, thank you, Kaede,” Shuichi said, ignoring her comment.

They both walk towards Kaede’s car in silence. Kadae tries to attempt a conversation, but Shuichi keeps getting lost in his thoughts.

“You stole my heart so now I’m satisfied!”

“Hey~ Mister Detective~”

“Tonight is when we become a secret, shrouded in shadows.”

They reach Kaede’s white car, Shuichi going in the front seat while Kaede pulls out her keys from her silver clutch. Soon, they were on the road, breezing past buildings with the wind flying through their hair.

Finally, they reached Shuichi’s sketchy apartment building. After saying goodbye, he rushes inside the building, but not to his room, instead to the apartment rooftop.

He swings open the door, panting as his eyes land on the one and only Phantom Thief and year long boyfriend, Kokichi Ouma, sitting on a ledge of the roof.

“Wow, Beloved! Way to keep your date waiting!” Kokichi jumps to the ground, running over to hug Shuichi.

“Sorry, we were working on your case.” Shuichi gives him a kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll take that as a complement!” Kokichi grins, letting go of Shuichi before pointing to a black box on the ground next to Kokichi’s mask, “let’s play a game of chess!”

“Of course.”

They sat around playing on the darkened ceiling, laughter can be heard echoing from the two. Time seems to stand still for the two of them as they exchange stories, tell jokes, and Kokichi says terrible pick up lines.

“And I win again! Ya-hoo!” Kokichi squeals, “285 wins for me!”

“It’s 260 wins, actually!”

“Same thing!” Kokichi pouts, “now for my reward...stargazing!”

Kokichi pounces on Shuichi, landing on top of him before rolling over next to him. “The stars are pretty tonight!” S

huichi groans, his back aching from being pushed to the cold, stone ground. “Don’t you see them everyday?”

“Does not make them any less beautiful!” Kokichi retorts, “don’t worry, Beloved! They could never surpass your beauty!”

Shuichi blushes, “thank you…”

They lay in silence, admiring the white twinkles in the sky. Suddenly, Kokichi lets out a cough, “Beloved, what is the status of my case?”

“Excellent job at disposing evidence as usual. They haven’t been able to-” Shuichi gets cut off from a buzz coming from his phone.

It’s a voicemail from Kyoko, he sits up, and quickly answers it.

“Hello, Shuichi. Apologies for this voicemail at 1 AM. We have just been informed of a piece of clothing that is most likely to be related to The Phantom Thief. Despite this being mine and Makoto’s case, I would like for you to be present. A terrible rumor has been going around about you and The Phantom Thief potentially being lovers. I know how ridiculous it sounds so I would like for you to clear your name. That’s all, goodnight.”

The voice call ends. Shuichi places one hand over his mouth before looking at Kokichi. Kokichi’s confident demeanor fades away, replacing it with fear and panic. Both of their eyes are wide as plates, knowing the rumor isn’t a rumor at all.

“Damn it! DICE is going to have to explain themselves!” Kokichi punches the ground.

Someone has spotted them. Someone out there knows the truth.

“Kokichi…” Shuichi utters, “oh my god...Oh my god! We’re so screwed! What do we do now?! What do I say?!”

“Shuichi, you have two options. You can lie, risk everything for the sake of a relationship. Or you can tell the entire truth and put us behind you.”

Kokichi turns away from Shuichi, not wanting his lover to see the tears threatening to fall out. He feels his entire body start to shake, “why would he risk everything for me? I’m just a thief. A liar. There is no way. He could lose everything-”

“Easy choice. I’m lying.”

“He wouldn’t risk everything for-what?!”

Kokichi chokes on air, “W-wha...what?!”

“Kokichi, you are worth more than anyone. Than everything. I would go through hell and back for you. I love you.”

For once, Kokichi is speechless. No comebacks. No funny remarks. No lies. He turns around and examines Shuichi’s face. His kind, amber eyes, the midnight locks matching the night sky, and his pale skin, making him look like a porcelain doll.

Kokichi sits up and kisses Shuichi. Both of their hands are in the other's hair, deepening the kiss. Shuichi pulls away to catch his breath only to kiss Kokichi, again.

“It’ll be fine Kokichi. You’ll be safe.” Shuichi whispers into Kokichi’s ear, making the smaller one blush.

“That’s cheating, Beloved,” Kokichi places the clown mask on, covering his pale face, “sorry, for cutting our date short. I have to scold DICE, now.”

“I’ll be waiting tomorrow. I love you, Kichi.”

“I love you too, Beloved!”

Shuichi waves Kokichi off as he jumps off from the ledge of the roof onto the next. Soon, Kokichi becomes nothing more than a white speck like a star.

“I love you and I always will.”

Let us start off with a classic Phantom Thief AU! This for @saiouma-events prompt #1 - Night! I’ll attempt to do all the prompts, but no promises! Sending you lovelies good wishes! - December

#saiouma #oumasai #fluff #phantom thief #au #i tried #writing #fanfic #drv3 ouma #drv3 saihara #drv3 #danganronpa #i did this in two days wtf #saioumaweek2020 #Day 1: Night/Day

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soranihimawari · 4 years

Text

West Coast kind of Love

Summary: There were certain things you know off the top of your head. One, the fact that popcorn and M&Ms should not be sold separately at the local movies is a crime; two, every other Monday of the month, the neighborhood film club would host dollar monster movies (where one of your neighbors in your apartment complex would frequently attend); and three, you might have to pinch yourself when he asks you to take a photo with you as a proof of “how things are going abroad” to his friend in Argentina...

Word count: 4.685K

Taglist: @m0nstergeneration20xx 📷 (google docs proof reader), @oitoorus, @tkags & her ⛅ (anon fam) , @oikawalovely [open still]

“Do what you love and the rest will follow”-proverb

--September XX--Thursday, 23:13 (11:23pm)

“Oh come on Yukihira,” you knocked on the closed bathroom door of your apartment.”You know I called dibs to the bathroom after we ditched those jerks at the dancehall.”

Every month you and your roommate took turns in choosing public places to go out for a night on the town. With midterms coming up for what would be the junior year of your undergrad studies, your roommate decided giving a double date a try. Unfortunately for her, those jerks were thinking of doing the deed way too early for either of your liking. You decide that spilling your peach Bellini on your friend’s outfit during the middle of the date was the perfect excuse to end the night early. More often than not, you mostly came along these dates with her as an enforcer. You two might be as different as night and day (yukihira studies medicine all hours of the day whereas your focus was the visual arts). Tonight was just one of those nights where you being there was beneficial.

“Ugh, fine,” she said opening the door revealing her freshly brushed grin. “I can’t believe you had the gall to ruin that outfit y/n.”

“Hey, whatever helps you throw it out like you did your ex then I was doing the Lord’s work for you, Yuks.” You rolled your eyes at her when she stuck out her tongue when you slithered into the ivory tiled washroom. This earned a laugh from the other member of your household.

“But because this was a bad date and I didn’t think things through this time again, that means I get to set you up on a blind date.” Her singsong voice reached your ears as you turned on the faucet to drown out her mocking tone. You paused for a brief moment while waiting for the make up remover serium to bubble up on your face before wiping it off effectively.

“With who?” you asked after you patted your skin dry post-makeup removal ritual complete. Your hair was undone from the hair elastic you pulled out of your inherited islander curls.

“I don’t know. Hmm...Maybe the guy in unit 23C? He’s awfully cute,” Yukihira mused as you leaned in her doorway. Her brows wiggled in delight when she noticed how you stared at your neighbor on move in day during your freshman move in day three years prior.

“Iwazumi? You can’t be serious,” you said. Your voice betrayed you because your eyes shined like the gods of furtune finally found their way to you.

“Do you want to or not? He’s focused, witty, determined; I have my physiology study group with him tomorrow. Why don’t you come with, best friend of mine?”

You really hated when she pulled the puppy eyes on you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to refuse (not by a long shot).

“Ask him if he prefers coffee or tea.”

A few days later, you came home from your department’s masters class with your portfolio sling over your shoulder. Your hands were covered in literal ink stains from your latest mural macro-micro project.

“Hey, Yukihira! Have you seen where I kept my lacquer thinner?” You raise your voice slightly as you kick off your shoes by the entrance hallway. It was only then you realize there were a couple of other pairs of shoes that did not belong to either of you. That’s when you remembered your friend’s warning about her study group coming over. All color drained from your face when you rounded the corner to your living room area converted into a mini lecture hall. You clear your throat to announce your presence which went unnoticed (with the exception of your roommate). Without even looking at the board, you chose to mess with the med students’ practice case.

“And I’m telling you this is a bilateral cut to the optic nerve, Josefina.”

“The microabraisons on the left thoracic cavity allowed the victim to bleed out on the table due to the elevated use of blood thinners, ” your voice quiets the pre-med students and you smile in a nonchalant manner. You have read this problem with Yukihira so many times prior at the start of the semester that you were able to recall the prognosis off the top of you head. Being friends with a pre-med major does have its redeeming qualities although you were seen mostly honing your crafts in the art department and this was just the prime time of their study week.

“Oh! You’re back early,” Yukihira says in a warm tone. She stands at the end of the table in between you Her eyes glazed over as if to communicate that you were about to be formally introduced. You bite your tongue prior to allowing your roommate to clap her hands together as she went naming every member starting with the person on her left who was the aforementioned Josefina. When she had come full circle, her voice trailed off with a small apologetic smile.

“Aaaand this here is my roommate, y/n. To answer your question about the lacquer thinner, I put the bottle on your desk when it arrived last time,” Yukihira made sure to watch everyone’s response. She was more interested in seeing how the third member of her study group (the aforementioned neighbor in 23C) would react. His minuscule smirk was doubly noted, prompting you to fill the few seconds of silence with your own voice. After a brief trip down memory lane, spear headed by your best friend as they took a break from studying for a moment, Yukihira explained after years of being friends you learned about the medical cases for exams via osmosis. You were an unofficial member of the study group since the medical arts building was located near the visual arts department offices on campus. You chose to not let them be pushed back any further especially since their content exam was coming up later that month, so you bid them good luck.

“Don’t mind me,” your brass tone conveyed an even temper at the time. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to head to my room. You guys aren’t the only ones with an exam this week.” You raised your portfolio canister so they could see the poster sized dyed cylinder. Reams of paper filled with sketches made from ink and graphite poked through under the flourescent lights of the kitchen dining room table. The med students along with Yukihira waved and said it was lovely to meet your acquaintance.

With that you made a beeline route to your room, opened the door, and promptly shut the door. You dropped your portfolio canister next to your desk, turned up the volume of the lo-fi radio station playlist on your sound system, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a muffled shriek to expel the remaining bits of embarrassment your friend threw you in. You were good at smaller group studies, but to be fair, given the fact that your friend was a social butterfly, you mostly seemed to rub off the “talented-artsy, yet focused,” type of woman. That night you cleaned up your outline for your stencil art piece of a fox and a hound for your take on minimalism class which had its peer critique at the end of the week.

You didn’t physically speak to Yukihira for the rest of the week. With both of you burning the midnight oil within the last few days before the exam, you noticed that the number of study group being held in your apartment had become the norm every other day (causing you focus more on a certain individual). Funny thing was he was also doing the same thing...

『from Yukihira: how many times do i have to apologize? You know I didn’t plan on having an emergency study session with iwazumi. He just showed up & wanted to chat. Besides the TA & professor chose to move up the exam date...』

『from y/n: you should of told me earlier before I came home. You know I forgive you... only if you buy me the latest ice cream along with the new Jun Ito novel. I’ll be out there in a minute till make some coffee for us.』

『from Yukihira: Mmkay & thanks. Coffee sounds good right about now anyways.』

--October XX-- Friday, 15:55 (3:55p.m.)

The weekend came through soon enough and on a Friday afternoon with no where to go, you were chilling at the comfort of your own living room. You were quick to thank the test gods for the exam being moved up once you had a proper conversation with Yukihira that morning. She mentioned she was going be out all day making sure she was able to finesse her study guide with her fellow medical study group. Since it was the end of the week, Josefina opted to have a free for all study day at the book store for those who wanted to go over last minute things according to the note yukihira left on your door that morning.

At the time of the day, you were expecting to be alone, curled up with your favorite cup of English Earl Grey Tea and a Lovecraft radio program you downloaded via the student Spotify network. Your phone vibrated and pinged with a notification from the bookstore where Yukihira placed the order for your horror novel to arrive sooner than the estimated timeframe. Because life finds it funny to pull another prank on your clown assery with your little cynical attitude, you were startled when the formal knocker was used.

“Shit!” you said when you clutched your heart as you placed your cup of tea down on the coffee table. As your put two fingers on your neck’s pulse point, you waited a few minutes for your heart rate to calm back down; you stood up and began to make your way down the hallway. Lo and behold, you were greeted by a casually dressed man who was clutching your new novel in his sunkissed hands.

It takes your brain a few synapses to register that it was Iwazumi who has been taking a liking to coming over for extra study hours with your roommate, but if anyone asked him to reply honestly, he wanted to know more about you. The human body has more than 240 bones, yet the more frequent his visits become, the more he felt himself become accustomed to befriending you both. There were instances where you joined them at the kitchen table glancing at their open notebooks and case studies; you often made tea or coffee depending on the hour of the day. On the days you had come home from the art department, Yukihira was quick to notice how Iwazumi’s usually tense face seemed to visibly relax when you came to prepare your favorite snack (m&ms and buttered popcorn). Your friend was quick to relay a text to his phone, which caused her study partner at the table to become more flustered than he already was.

Regardless of the various near misses over the next couple of weeks between you and Iwazumi (sometimes it was Yukihira’s fault other times, it was coincidental juxtopostional humour: it has happened twice on Iwazumi’s side when his friends back home noticed he was not at his usual place. [Yukihira called for a mini-study break] However, that didn’t stop you from asking him if he preferred sugar or honey for his tea & all hell broke loose (Hanamaki & Mattsun were cheering him on while Oikawa.exe has dropped the call).

All this back and forth for the past five weeks caused this moment to occur:

“I-Iwa-chan?” your voice went up several octaves before clearing your throat with a cough. “If you’re looking for Yukihira, she’s actually not here at the moment...”

“To the scientist there is the joy in pursuing truth which nearly counteracts the depressing revelations of truth.”

The audio from your radio program was keeping you company. The disembodied voice coming from the main sound system you helped set up when you first moved into the building with Yukihira quoted Lovecraft as the program continued to serve in the role of filling the silence between you and Iwazumi. The gods really did that, didn’t they? your thoughts were running away with you again, chasing a reality that would be yours--or so you think.

During that thought hurricane you conjured up, you decided to pause the train of thought for a few minutes. You released your hold on your front door knob as you pulled the door a little wider in order for you to lean against the frame of the front door. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun (on your days off, you were typically clad in tapered mint green pants and a spare white button down blouse due to laundry day), but it was enough to see the usual semi-talkative and stoic demi-god of a neighbor wear such an embarrassed expression. You pretended to not hear the barely audible, “woah,” that escaped his mouth prior to him holding up the book to you.

“Did the mail carrier drop it off to your box again?” you ask taking the book in your hands. “Sorry about that. You can come in if you want.”

You were quick to notice that something caught your arm in an attempt to stop you from walking. When you chose to not try to pry yourself away from Iwazumi’s hold, he took it as a sign to bend himself to your ear and say the following in a powerfully low tone: “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t looking for her?”

“Yes,” you say in a timid manner, yet it was paired with a curt nod. You both had the tenacity to swat away any lingering negative thoughts.

Iwazumi took this moment to turn you around to face him by the arm he held you with. His smile disappeared when he let your arm go and instead moved his hand to hold yours with his opposite hand, he pulled the door shut behind him. You were probably too proud to admit this aloud, nonetheless, you liked the way Iwazumi’s firm grip felt in your hand; his were rough and calloused as much as yours were from years of honing your independent crafts. You gave him a kind smile before your neighbor decided to take advantage of the fact that the other person in your apartment wasn’t home; you squeezed his hand slightly and he let your hand go.

You placed the Jun Ito novel on the kitchen counter motioning for Iwazumi to meet you there. Your kettle was still warm, however you made a cheeky joke to your newly acquired friend. (Perhaps this was Yukihira’s plan, you think). You reached into the dishwasher and was about to pour him a cup of tea, yet you couldn’t help but make a small joke at his expense for holding your hand so intently.

“For the record, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could have done so earlier,” you mention stifling a laugh, pouring the steaming water into the mug. Iwazumi mumbled something about how he liked the way your hand fit, yet you chose to throw caution to the wind and quickly planted short kiss on his cheek when you extended the cup toward him after placing the tea strainer in it.

With one hand on yours and the other was wrapped around the ceramic mug,. Your kindness was always something Iwazumi found alluring. You might not have been in the same course of study as him or Yukinira, yet you were good finding the beauty in the mundane. A few of your pieces of work were hung around the apartment and from his line of sight, your dedication to your craft was something to be admired.With every sip he took a sip to deflect from the way his thoughts were heading into uncharted territories; OIkawa, Mattsun, and even Makki were the ones more verbose on love & conquest during the days of their you:

“You’re always over at your neighbors’ place, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased.

“I wonder what his reason is,” Makki muses. “Mattsun thinks it’s a girl. Typical.”

Makki also noticed one of your sophomore symposium art pieces hanging behind the place where Iwazumi was sitting at the time of their weekly video call. Your avant-garde view of viewing the world was enough to set the sky amethyst hues. California does have it’s moments of striking beauty and somehow Iwazumi found it hard to keep to a straight face around his friends. His expression was usually hardened or bold, but today you sat across from him at the beginning of the call, reading up on the use of gold leaf detail work for your art restoration classes. Across the myriad of scattered medical books and various notes that were pertaining to another medical case were a tell that their friend was clearly not alone. You glance up at him quietly, a minute smile formed between you two; you write on a spare piece of paper the word, “friends” to which he nodded.

“Aww, is our little ace growing soft on us?” Oikawa’s whining was something you often heard Yukihira describe after nights like these.(She usually hung out in your room as you were placing the final touches of your latest art assignment. This month was dedicated to historic downtown with a twist of horror: modern mania & the ruiner of man. Right now, you didn’t mind the shared space of the dining room while Yukihira was out on a grocery run at the time the call was initiated.)

“Shut your mouth Shittykawa,” Iwazumi barks. His dark eyes hardened like stone and that was when Makki let out a wicked grin.

“I owe Mattsun 500 yen,” Makki chuckled.

“Holy shit,” Oikawa’s eyes bounced between his best friends and let out a low whistle. “if this woman is capable of such an amazing feat, ask her if she has a friend [for me].”

Iwazumi ended the call right then and there. He didn’t expect his heart to be beating so irratically when you walked room in your house attire for a moment to make yourself a cup of the same Earl Grey Tea. The hazy lights emitting from your room blended effortlessly with the flourescent ones in the kitchen; each beam clung to your body in such away Iwazumi was glad neither of his friends witnessed the moment he fell in love with California and all that came with it.

This afternoon was a different story as you liked the way Iwazumi allowed his natural blush to bubble to the surface of his cheeks and you could swear you saw a fraction of the high school volleyball ace shine through. The sunlight danced around the stainless steel details of the kitchen where you shared secrets, recipes, and drinks with your best friend. His free hand chose to move away from the counter finding its resting place under your chin. The cup of tea Iwazumi held earlier was placed next to the stove on the coaster by the sink.

You steady your breathing right before you felt Iwazumi’s breath on your cupid’s bow; his lips pressed against yours gingerly as though he felt his brain light up and catch a fire he needed to not run away from; everything he wanted to know about you was answered as soon as your hands cup his face. I think I like this, your conscience is egging you on to pursue his touch for a while longer. It was a silent acknowledgement of the other’s presence in the present moment.

“Hm,” you hear him hum in mutual amusement when you return his kiss. The pads of his fingers trace the highest points of your face teasingly. He wanted answers to the questions your lips asked. When you two separate for a moment, you realize you might have been too forward, but when you move your hands away from his face only to hug him in a loose embrace, you couldn’t help the next words from posing a question.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” your coquettish tone made Iwazumi’s answer very apparent as you suddenly took into account the last couple of weeks and the way both of you came to enjoy each other’s company during study group hours at either your place as the primary location or the cafe down the road from the apartment complex. (Iwazumi’s frequent visits weren’t for tutoring necessarily, about a majority of the time it was to see you as an added bonus).

Iwazumi did not have to be told twice; he enveloped you in his strong arms, he hoisted you up from under your knees and placed you a top the counter with gentle assertive force. Your legs wrapped around his fit waist as you gripped his biceps for leverage prior to letting the old ace prove his strength by placing you on top of the graphite counter like a doll.

“Comfortable?” Iwazumi’s expression was more seductive than profound.

“Very,” you reply as you unwind your legs from his body. “Where were we?”

Your hands wrapped around his neck before pulling him close to you again. A smug smile cut across both of your faces for a brief moment until your lips hovered over his for the second time. This time, you let him kiss you the way you knew he had been meaning to since he showed up at your door less than fifteen minutes prior book in hand. When Iwazumi kissed you at the current moment, the world crumbled and fell away; it was somehow comforting in a way that words would not compare to. His actions listened to the way you were setting the pace with the same tenacity as he showed you. The scent of his sandalwood conditioner mixed well with your ocean scented dry shampoo.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt your hands card through his ever-present spiky hair. His right hand rested below your ear, using the pad of his thumb and forefinger to caress your cheek and jawline again. You feel him smile against your own lips when you nipped the corner of his mouth playfully. You break apart long enough for your partner in the kitchen to began to sneakily undoing your top two buttons of your blouse to press his lips against your exposed skin. You let out a whimper in the heat of the moment the second his lips began to leave a trail of reverberating echoes in the simplest of ways securing his hold on your soul that very day.

“Beautiful girl,” Iwazumi murmurs as his eyes met yours when he was done having his fun. His voice was cautious, but when his arms began to hover over your own, you felt your heart rate speed up right as he told you this: “Tell me, what other sounds can you make for me?”

“Is that a challenge?” you retort, your hands disappearing under his hoodie to feel the fabric of his undershirt. Your hand stopped roaming atop of his chest; he was liking this. You could tell by the way he was taunting you with his smirk. “Because I was wondering the same thing. Do you want me to remove my hand?”

“No.”

Your hands could have been made of branding tools and Iwazumi wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. He chuckled at your question before you brought him down to your level and your lips met again. The sound he made upon impact was as though you broke him yet healed him at the same time; time was on your side for this one and you proved he wasn’t the only monster in the kitchen. There was a hunger there behind every kiss you let him have; you were smiling in the between long enough to feel his heart beat faster through the fabric of his undershirt.

Your hands automatically removed themselves from his shirt and were found holding on to the aglet of the drawstrings from the hoodie he was wearing. Iwazumi kissed your fingers before proceeding with posing a question to you.

“Just so we’re clear,” your voice was bold and daring. It was one of the many things he liked about you both in and out of campus grounds. The small details was what Iwazumi liked the most and the subtle tells of how you, Yukihira, and even the other members of the study group didn’t make him feel so alone like when he first arrived to California to study.

“Whatever this is between you and I, does it mean we’re...together?”

You make a sign in the air with your palms up and point between you and him. Iwazumi clears his throat as he taps his lips to tease you and that was when he saw it: a younger version of you covered in sidewalk chalk in your neighborhood (much the same as you saw reflections of the former ace/vice captain).

“If you’ll let me take you to the Monster Movie marathon on Monday,” he answered when he linked his right hand digits with your left and you capture his lips again on your own volition. Your ears perked up at this, you drop the string you played with and patted his chest with a light rapt.

“Eager to make me your girlfriend aren’t you?” You laugh and Iwazumi furrowed his brows, but you silence his worries in one swift and simple move: you kiss him with the intent of either being his salvation or his torment, either way Iwazumi was not complaining. The girl who loves to read about Lovecraftian monsters and the boy who was a monster chaser shared a love as unique as themselves: like a secret they each wanted to keep behind closed doors.

His only vice was the fact that his social call was coming to an end and every ounce of his well being was fighting to stay here with you. You back down for a moment only to showcase your best attempt at a flattering smile to match his own. Iwazumi would never let you know this at the time, but seeing that smile on your face made his list of top three things he found most precious in the world. This wasn’t a crush anymore was the proper conclusion you both concluded.

“Meet at your place at 7:30,” you suggest. Iwazumi released your hand from his to step back as you hopped down from the kitchen counter you made a seat of.

“I’ll see you then ‘Ms. Lovecraft’.” The nickname he bestowed upon you was one that made the butterflies come back in a flurry; this was the start of something special, but you didn’t know it at this point in time that the name will be used to describe your affinity for Iwazumi’s unyielding devotion to you (the seeds were planted in both of your hearts and the two of you waited for them to bloom).

Iwazumi made his way back toward the hallway and faced your apartment’s front door again. You refastened both buttons he undid prior to reaching for the door knob.

“For what it’s worth,” your not-so-innocent tone in your voice begins to come through. His darkened eyes observe you undo your top knot and shook your shoulder-length hair to reveal the fullness of your wavy locks. You place your hand on his wrist and the other was on the door knob. He stopped you from opening the door with a softened glance; pressing his lips lightly on your brow bone.

“I really like it when you come over Iwazumi. Thank you for dropping off the book.” You tap your fingers thoughtfully on your lips as a silent form of thanking him for the other part outside of the tangible order.

“Hajime, y/n,” he whispers his given name in your ear in order to get one last rile out of you before kissing your temple, and you could swear you could hear your heart beat in your ears. “Call me that from now on, ok?”

“Ok,” you swiftly reply. “Only if you continue to call me Lovecraft, haha.”

Iwazumi takes his leave when he thinksof how the next time he sees you, it’ll be filled with magic, mayhem, and the movie playing in his heart was one he would like to share with you for as long as it takes.

You rush to your room to retrieve your cell phone and immediately text Yukihira who was in the middle of her break between classes:

『from y/n: i have a date on monday night. the book came btw. thanks yukihira』

『from Yukihira: iwazumi asked you to go out with him, didn’t he? have fun and remember to not do anything i wouldn’t do. ;) 』

『from y/n: of course. and even if we did, i wouldn’t even hear the end of it from you. you’d might have an easier time talking to iwazumi than me, let’s be honest.』

『from Yukihira: (n˘v˘•)¬ oh you know me so well. see you later tonight.』

—November XX, 14:43 (2:43pm):

First dates & a glimpse into their social medias (ft. Iwazumi, Babs (y/n), & Yukihira)

Iwazumi credit

Suffice to say that Mondays became your favorite day after this kiss...😌

Bonus:

Instagram posts from our UCIrvine trio ft. Iwazumi, Yukihira, & Y/N-san

#iwazumi x reader #timeskip!iwazumi x reader #collegiate au #first kisses and monster movies #neighbor to lover #⏱queued post #iwa-chan wore glasses one day #west coast kind of love completed #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #🌻.txt

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