#part 15 already in the works. I sketched them in the same sitting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

papercupids · 3 years

Text

ruin us - ten lee

pairing -> ten lee x yandere!reader

warnings -> blood, mentions of a body, yandere behaviour by the reader, mentions of a knife, the reader kills someone, ten is held captive by the reader.

i do not, in anyway condone this behaviour,

genre -> yandere

word count -> 1.6k

a/n -> this was the result of a brainstorming between me and @go-shotaro,, her brain is just so awesome please. proofread by her as well :D.

Your hands fly to the cold handle of the beige drawer of your kitchen, the colour has grown dirtier, none of you had the time nor the energy to tend to it after a long day of work.

The dim light in the kitchen was enough to illuminate your actions but it failed to reach inside the drawer, as you slid your hands through it, touching the utensils to know which was which until you found the one you were looking for.

You look around again, your shabby apartment is intact. The sofa with a dust cover on it, making the black look like a cheap brown and smelling of the cigarettes you stub on it sometimes. There were half empty glasses on the center table, the water now unfit for drinking due to the paint brushes in them, the color departing from the brush and settling inside the glass.

Pages lay scattered with half made drawings there, you could vividly recognize your face on them, in different expressions and different costumes. But all you felt was a frown making its way on your face as you remember the disappointment on ten’s face.

You were his muse, always were and always will be; he assured you but something wasn’t right for now. He claimed to be in a creative rut.

You couldn’t mask the clear the drop in your self esteem then, his paintings was what brought you two together and you let the memory of him sitting there in a cafe, in a corner just beside the window where enough sunlight could luminate his work, and staring at you as you sat diagonal to him.

He approached you around 15 minutes later, softly asking if he could sketch you out, he was in a creative rut then aS WELL and a part of you was scared that even this time he’ll need a new muse to get him out of it.

You tighten your grip on the utensil in your hand, this wasn’t the time to think about this, you shook your head.

You came home to the door unlocked and the voices from inside, convinced someone had broke into your apartment. But it baffled you how of all the influential residential areas, they’d choose yours, there wasn’t a single thing of worth here.

Nevertheless, the knife in your hand was unwavering. And you took steps slowly and in a featherlight way.

There was a sane side of you that wanted to call ten and let him know about this but he’d be at work, probably working his ass out and, you glance at your watch, he was going to be home in about an hour already so there was no use in bothering him.

The door from where the voices had been coming from was the room ten had converted into his studio, with a huge easel in the corner of the room, a one seat replica of the sofa you had in your living room in the other corner.

His paints littered across the room on piles of newspaper that had been long destroyed.

The door is right in front of you and you can smell perfume in the air, way more expensive than the one bottle you had tucked away in the closet of your bathroom, and you push open the door, readying the knife.

And you let out a soft gasp.

Ten is at work, his brows furrowed, and sweat beads appearing on his skin, his concentration doesn’t faze even when the door you throw open lets out a screech. He’s still in his uniform and in any other instance you’d be complaining to him about how hard the paint is to get out of a cloth and how he should have atleast discarded the shirt before sitting down to paint, and to which he’d reply, “you don't think about these things when inspiration strikes,”

But to your horror, there's someone seated there.

And you swear that that’s when your world comes shaking down, piece by piece and you swear you can hear the cracks shattering.

There’s someone on the sofa, with a small face, a bob cut with bangs and doe eyes, you can swear she’s one of the prettiest people you’ve ever laid eyes on. Any other instance you’d swoon over her, but right now all you feel is the lump in your throat, making your hands shake and the anger that doesn’t let you drop the knife.

“Ten,” you say in a softer voice than you intend to, ten and the girl turn to you, interrupted.

Ten is pale as he looks at you, he’s unsure of what your reaction would be, he tries to be calm, but his eyes give it away.

“Babe,” his voice is honey, and it sounds like he’s capturing a wild animal that has escaped from a zoo, all you feel is the urge to stab the canvas that he’s painting on.

“Meet Lisa,” his tone is yet not changed, and Lisa offers you and looks at you with an awkward smile the same way, like a tilt of her head and you could go feral at any moment.

“What is she doing here,” it’s not a question, it’s a signal for her to pack her things and leave, and she can see it, watching her reflection in the steel.

“I- i- met her at work, i felt like i could paint her,” ten is scared, not for him, he knows how to deal with you but the fact that lisa is right beside you, your knife in the very hand she sits beside.

“You wanted her to be your muse,” you spit out, taking steps inside the room.

“If you could just put down the knife,” ten retaliates.

“You wanted her to be your muse,” you repeat, trying to grasp, was he going to replace you?

Was he going to throw an entire year of an intimate relationship for his godforsaken painting? Was he going to paint her in the same colours he did you?

It made you want to break his paintbrushes, was it more than your love?

He stands up from his stool, slowly, and walks towards you dodging the paint in his way.

“She’s not my muse, babe, that’s you, i just- you know i’ve been struggling with inspiration lately, she offered to help,” he circles around you and rubs his hand on your free arm.

“Put down the knife, babe,”

He calculates and there's a twitch in his eyebrows as he reaches your knife, and as he confirms you won’t do anything, he takes your hand around his waist and pulls you in close.

“She’s not gonna replace you, no one’s ever gonna replace you,” he whispers in your ear.

You take small and exhausted steps into the room, it almost felt like you’d faint from the lack of energy in you. You rubbed at your eyes; sore from all the crying, you hadn’t looked into a mirror, but you were sure if you did your face resembled a shell of your bright self.

You were so upset. Why did ten have to go ahead and do this?

And as you fumble for switches in the dark, the material is cold beneath your fingers, making you feel and numb at the same time. After a few clicking sounds, you finally turn on the right one.

And you’re greeted with a warm feeling, a feeling that makes you break down all over again, why did you love him that much? Why were you so weak for him?

He’s there; but he refuses to look at you, and as you inch closer to him you can see a look of fear and disgust mixed in his eyes.

“ten,” you whisper softly, afraid someone might hear you. You decide to try again for the sake of the amount of the love you had in you, that it literally ran in the blood of your veins.

“I know I’m not perfect, but I love you.”

Ten doesn’t look at you for a while, hoping you’d go away, but you sit on the floor with an urging look, wanting to make him understand your pure intentions.

He turns to you and flinches lightly, “What this is, what you’re doing and what you did, this isn’t love.”

You sigh, “how many times should i explain it to you, it was a mistake, ten. Mistakes happen.”

“Yeah, well, it might be a mistake, y/n. But she’s dead. You killed her.” and he finally dares to look at the side of the room he has been avoiding since last night.

And there’s a pool of blood right there, a knife adorning the body which laid lifelessly there.

The ends of your eyes are burning, tears threatening to fall again as you make an attempt to clear yourself again.

“She would have taken you away from me,” you whisper, hoping he’d get it, but it just causes him to snarl and struggle at the binds around his hands.

“What the fuck are you going on about? We were going just perfect before this. If you trusted me just a bit, you wouldn’t have done this.”

“I did it because I didn't wanna let her ruin us, baby.”

He flinches again at the nickname, a day ago, he’d have felt proud and happy that he’d finally found someone who loved him. But now it just felt bitter.

You throw your hands up in withdrawal, “fine, if you wanna keep being this way, then i’m not gonna stop you,”

“You can stay here and look at your friend until I've found a way to deal with her.” and you get up and turn away from the room, switching off the light.

“Have fun,” even in the dark, ten could see the smirk that painted your lips. He had no option but to give in.

networks - @prism-nw & @neoturtles

81 notes · View notes

givemeyourcrunchbars · 3 years

Text

Sequestered

Fern x f!reader

If there are any warnings I need to add, please let me know :)

The weight of the crown on your head was too much to bear today. You gently set it down onto the grass, next to you in the shade of the giant oak trees above you.

If someone were to ask you what it's like to be a princess, you would say it's a curse. For the past 15 years you've been raised, your father was stern and barely paid any attention to you. Suffering from neglect, you slowly watched him become more and more corrupt with power, forcing the entire kingdom to stay within its walls. As far as the common people knew, the outside was a mysterious place not to be messed with.

That's what power does to people. To have all these abilities at your hands, is a great responsibility. But most rulers toss those away, like a bag of trash being disposed into the garbage can.

You sighed, gazing across to the opposite side of the clearing you were sitting in. You raised your head to look up at the sky. Oh, what I would do to have a different life...

The rustling of leaves caught your attention. You gasped, quickly backing away into the shelter of the trees. Dad can't catch me being here!

"Hey."

You froze as relief washed over you. It wasn't your father.

You weren't allowed to leave the kingdom. Finding loopholes wasn't easy, so you didn't know what you'd do if he found out.

Carefully, you stood up, squinting at the figure standing at the opposite end of the meadow. Slowly, they- or it- stepped into the sunlight. You recognized him from your past adventures. Fern the Human.

"Hi," you replied warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know," he said. "Just exploring." Fern wore the same expression he did normally, a blank set of eyes and his mouth set in a straight line.

You nodded, your eyes darting around the clearing, at anything but him. You rarely interacted with outsiders, especially since you weren't allowed outside of your kingdom. So you didn't know how to act. All your social skills started chipping away because you were forced to stay inside all the time. "Princess duties".

"I haven't seen you around here before," the grass boy remarked. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" I repeated. That was a good question. Every single decision I've had to make and every emotion I've had was decided for me. So much so, that I wasn't sure there was any "me" left.

"I'm Y/N," you replied. Fern tilted his head.

"Where are you from?"

"Um." You struggled to find the words. He couldn't know about the kingdom, or else you would find yourself kicked out. What was even the purpose of telling him? It could only end badly. His curiosity would get the better of him, driving him him to see the kingdom for himself. Would Fern even try to save us?

Even though you wanted to rescue your people badly, the thought of them roaming around aimlessly in the Land of Ooo scared you. They barely knew anything about the outside, and the only information they did know altered their perspective to think of it in a bad light. Besides, what could Fern do to help? He's just one person.

"It's none of your business," you ended up blurting out. "I have to go." Your father wanted you home for the evening anyway. For what, he didn't say.

You turned away before you could hear Fern's reply, dashing off into the dense forest.

Taking a deep breath, you began to form an image of a raven inside your mind. Shapeshifting was still something you weren't good at. You were supposed to follow a certain set of rules as a princess, one of which being that you couldn't shapeshift into your raven form in the presence of other people. It was seen as impolite.

Focus on shapeshifting! You commanded yourself. Finally, you were able to fly, ruffling your wings a bit. You missed being able to soar.

"Wait!" Fern's voice yelled from behind you, his footsteps trodding through the layers of leaves on the forest floor. You sighed, flapping up to the tree tops and taking off. A feeling of dread gradually grew in your chest, facing the reality that you had to go back to your secluded life, with people that ignored and misunderstood you.

As the dark green leaves of the forest zoomed by beneath your feet, you began to wonder whether you should've listened to what Fern had to say. Eh, it probably wasn't important.

Directing your thoughts back to your destination, you vowed to come back to your happy place as soon as possible. It helped clear your head. Hopefully, Fern won't be there next time. The idea of talking to people made you uncomfortable. The people that you've trusted in the past have all either broken your trust, or just didn't care about you at all.

There's a crown here in the bushes, Fern observed, lifting the heavy piece of gold. It was a big ring, with an arm extending upwards, holding a small, rugged black crystal. Interesting.

Turning it over in his hands, something strange caught his eye. A carving on the back of the crown. It was barely illegible, but Fern could make out one name. Y/N.

"Where is your crown?" The Raven King hissed angrily. "The suitors are already here!"

"I don't know, Dad!" You frantically racked your mind, trying to remember where you had left it. A princess' crown was a part of her, as a role model and a symbol. But this time, it represented worth.

"Why are you making me marry someone I don't even know anyway?" You hurriedly glanced at your father, brows furrowed. Your father had invited a group of suitors to compete for your hand in marriage. They desired only the princess' heart, but it wasn't true love, like what you dreamed of as a child. They just wanted land, wealth, and power. Marrying you was their key to a happy life. Without your label as a princess, they would have no opportunity at all.

"You know very well why!" Your father growled. "This is going to be beneficial for the kingdom! Don't you want me to prosper?"

You started walking down the spiraling staircase that lead to the main hallways, unable to stay calm any longer. "I want the people to prosper," you replied, sending a spine-chilling glare to your father behind you. Before he could respond, you stomped away, into the main hallway where a line of antsy suitors stood waiting.

You definitely have a thing for walking out on people.

"Heya, Fern!" A boy wearing a worn, dual-toned green backpack greeted Fern, holding open the door that had separated the two just moments before. "Jake just made some meatloaf! Want some? It has your favorite- I mean our favorite garnishes." Finn grinned.

"No thanks," Fern replied, distracted. His eyes wandered all around the giant treehouse that stood over him, almost menacingly. Despite what Fern wanted to think, there was something about it that made him uneasy. When he thought of the treehouse, he thought of Finn, which in turn caused him to obsess over the fact that he wasn't Finn. Then who was he?

"No probs." Finn sounded a little disappointed, but cheered up when Jake called out that the meatloaf was ready from somewhere inside the house.

"By the way, can I ask you something?" Fern asked, taking something out of his backpack, which tumbled to the ground, causing him to groan in frustration. Finn turned back to his grassy friend while taking a plate of food from the unseen Jake. "What's up?"

He gasped when he saw the golden crown gleaming in the sunlight. "That belongs to one of the princesses!" He picked it up and handed it back to Fern.

Fern nodded, stowing it in his backpack. "I found it in the forest near Tree Trunks' house. I think this girl dropped it," he said.

"Whahf girl?" Finn said, trying to chew meatloaf at the same time. "PB? Fire Princess? Slime P?"

"No." Fern shook his head. "I've never seen her before, and honestly," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "She was scared of me." He sounded frustrated, his voice trailing off.

"Dude-"

"Why doesn't anything ever work out?!" Fern said in anguish. He curled his fingers in and out of his palm, trying to release the tension trapped in his mind.

"Calm down, dude," Finn exclaimed. "I can help you find her, don't worry! I've never seen this crown before either, so we can go together." He placed a hand on Fern's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"No!" Fern protested. "I wanna do it myself," he said, softer. "Can you just tell me how to find her?"

Finn looked taken aback for a second at his grassy friend's outburst, but nodded regardless. "You can ask the Candy People and the other kingdoms, they probably know who owns that crown." He handed Fern a map of the Land of Ooo, sketched out on a yellowed piece of paper.

Saying their goodbyes, Finn left Fern on his solo quest to find the mysterious princess.

The long and chaotic day was finally over. You sank down to the floor, your back against the door to your room. You stared at the king-sized bed. I hate this. I hate everything.

After you left your father standing on the stairs, you had awkwardly walked into the main hall. But that must have been the last straw for your father, because he still didn't join you, even after five minutes. He ended up sending a replacement to accompany you after a long time of waiting. You wished that the suitors didn't keep glancing at the spot where your crown was supposed to sit while you stood with your hands clasped in front of you, staring at the doorway your father was going to follow you through.

I still have to get the crown back, you thought. Where did I leave it? The only place I would've lost it would be... Then you realized. The clearing! Of course! Oh no, I have to go there right now!

You raced over to the small window in your bedroom, peeking your head out. Seeing practically no one outside, you transformed into your raven form and hopped on the windowsill. Suddenly, an object was hurled at you from below. Looking down, you saw a small child chucking pieces of corn at you.

"Get out of there, you stupid crow!" He yelled. Close enough.

You carefully flapped your wings, flying high above the kingdom. As soon as you were out of reach, the child gave up trying to knock you out of the sky and returned to his home, resuming the quiet atmosphere the kingdom always held during evenings.

Night had almost fallen over Ooo when you finally arrived at your meadow. Landing in the spot where you had sat earlier that day, you turned back into a human and rummaged through the bushes for your long lost crown. As the minutes ticked by, you began to grow more frustrated. Where is it?! If I lose it forever, I'm done for.

"Huh?" You said out loud. Prying apart the branches of a blueberry bush, you found a few grass blades attached to the rough leaves, reminding you of Fern. You stood up. Why not just see if Fern had it? He wasn't the scavenger type, but something as mysterious as an unknown princess' crown was sure to fascinate him.

Ugh, the sun is setting. You sighed in defeat, vowing to visit Fern the next day to take back the circlet. Another day that's ending, another gloomy morning to look forward to. But this time, you had a mission to accomplish.

#adventure time fern x reader #adventure time #fern x reader #adventure time x reader

137 notes · View notes

random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie! I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it. Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits. It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains. I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting. Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts. Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack. Unsurprisingly, none of it works. The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now. I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already. Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter. "You're up too, hmm~? Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store. "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice. "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night. Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go. It's super creepy!" She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them. I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand. Not like I had anything better to do. What was I gonna do, sleep? Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself. "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes. "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with. "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work. I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands. "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her. "I want your heart, Toga. Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off. "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks. My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head. Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off. It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off. "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago. Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway. He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child." He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM. "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness. "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips. "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far." I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you. Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around." His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head. "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed. Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave. I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual. I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up. But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference. I started thinking there was something in the tea.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said. He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen. "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up. "Am I bothering you? I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?" It was an unexpected question. He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us. He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack. He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling. The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities. They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches. "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy. "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen. Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated. I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines. I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface. If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment. The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy. I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want. Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way. I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep. In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body. It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable. It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite. He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother. I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest. If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth. "I was lonely before I found these guys. I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk. "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup." He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly. "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all! Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile. "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time. The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay. You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way. And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me. You can't see it now, but it's there. Keep fighting through it." He touched my hand over the glass. "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents. "You'd be a great Dad, Twice." I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response. "I've always wanted a kid. Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine. "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with. "Let it out, kid. Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me. Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed. "Hey. If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes. Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store. The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes. I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing." I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most. Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura. "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up. "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we? Us damn human can't help but think. It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up. "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone? We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long. It never ends well." He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck. "We all got demons, kid. It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first. And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point. I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for. I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villians x reader #dabi #toga himiko #mha twice #kurogiri #shigaraki #request #platonic #gender neutral reader #comfort #league of villains imagine #league of villains scenario #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

Jeon Wonwoo (전원우):

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

"Let's Play"

You and Wonwoo work together to finish up the assignment, which leads you two realize you have a hobby in common. < Link to part 1> | <link to part 3>

gamer!wonwoo, student!wonwoo

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

Your heart skipped a beat.

His cold eyes that held a warm gaze.

"What? Is my username funny?" You asked, turning back to your computer. Wonwoo just simply looked away to the side which made you a bit baffled.

"Well, this ended faster than I expected." You were about to close your computer when Wonwoo's hand stopped you. You looked up at him.

"Let's finish the project quickly. I change my mind." Wonwoo said. Reluctantly, you opened your laptop again.

'What's with the sudden change of heart?' you wondered to yourself, taking out the camera in your backpack. The assignment was to film a video about your favorite hobbies.

"I'll film you reading." You said. Wonwoo seemed to be shy about it which made you crack a laugh. "Don't look so tense! Just relax!"

He let out a small and shy giggle. For some reason it seemed like he completely changes in persona.

While filming him read, you did have thoughts that he was handsome but decided to disregard them. Perhaps, you weren't ready to accept the sudden new him that you never saw before. You filmed him from various angles, and he would flip the pages of his book so naturally like he forgot you were filming.

"All done. Now, if you don't want to-" Wonwoo stood up and took your camera. Every pair had a camera of their own.

"Sit and draw." He said, adjusting the camera. You did as he said and took out your notebook and pencil, sketching a cat.

"Don't you think we should move somewhere else?" You murmured, turning to the camera.

"No, the light makes you look good here." The sudden compliment made your heart flutter. "Stay just like that." You continued to stare into the camera but then lifted your gaze to him.

After filming for another 15 minutes, you guys finally finished. "Look at how efficient we work together. If only you've cooperated with me earlier." You started packing your things.

"How about the last hobby?"

"The gaming one? We can do it tomorrow. I have to get going." You threw on your backpack and attempted to go but Wonwoo held you back.

"Let's go to the internet cafe and get the filming done today."

He dragged you away and you couldn't say or protest loudly because it was a library. It wasn't the same internet cafe you always attended.

"So who'll film?" You asked, taking out the camera.

"I'll film first." He took the camera. Wonwoo would film your face, your fingers clicking on the keyboard keys, the computer, and whatever else. You also did the same. His quick paced fingers and focused expression made you smile without knowing.

You sat beside Wonwoo after you finished filming his beauty from all angles.

That's when you finally realized the time.

"IT'S 6PM!?" you quickly logged into PubG and looked for Cqrrkt.

"It's fine." Wonwoo replied rather calmly but also holding in a smile.

"What do you mean!? Gosh my teammate probably isn't online now! You'll never understand-" that's when you saw the computer screen in front of him.Wonwoo was logged into PubG as Cqrrkt, and he was wearing the exact same bunny skin.

You turned to him who was already looking at you with a smile. The Cafe was blasting some sweet music that shifted the atmosphere to feel sweet instead of annoying. Wonwoo turned your chair so that you were facing your own computer and not staring at him with your doe eyes. His heart couldn't take it. Finally, he took a deep breath, you were still in shock.

His deep voice finally spoke.

"Let's play."

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

- serenityseventeen

Thanks for the request! It was so fun to make this and sorry it's a bit late!

If I were to be honest, I had "SWEETEST THING" playing on repeat in the back while I made this haha

88 notes · View notes

itsmeevie01 · 4 years

Text

Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Day 4 -Habits

I just wanted to put a trigger warning up at the top. It's not very well discribed, because this was edited at 3 am, BUT. Marinette... Disassociates(?) Toward the end of this. I know that it's a little different than what people usually discribe for her, but I kind of based off my experiences I've had and experiences my best friend has had.

The sun started to peak its way through the windows as Dick Grayson made his way into the kitchen at the manor. It wasn’t often that he was able to come back for long stretches of time, but when he was, he enjoyed beating his family down. As he walked in, he blinked in shock. There sitting at the counter, was Marinette. His younger sister (who he was still mad at Bruce for hiding from him) was siting there happily chatting with Alfred as she sipped on a mug of coffee. She was already dressed and seemed too chipper for 5:30 in the morning.

At the sound of him slinging himself into a chair, Marinette threw him a smile that made Dick squint in return. He huffed in response and latched onto the mug that was passed his way. There was a reason he made sure to be up before the others, after all.

Tim was settled with his laptop when Marinette maneuvered into the sitting room. In one arm, she had her sketchbook, a bag of pencils, and a cup of water. In the other arm, she had her computer, phone, and a tray that was holding four cups of coffee. When she set one down in front of Tim, he hummed in appreciation. She sent a smirk his way and added “a gift to the lord of the room” his responding

“Hey! Get back here Little Bit!” was met with laughter. She threw him a smile and arranged herself onto the opposing couch. He smiled at her and returned to his homework. This was his quiet time, and she knew that. Recently she had been making a point to spend time working in the same space with him when they both were busy. Both times she had come to visit since Thanksgiving, he had found himself working with the girl. Somehow, she always knew when he needed a break, and the thirteen-year-old girl made sure to pull his attention away for an appropriately short amount of time. He had often found over the last few weeks that he was sleeping better because of it too. Now, as he reached over to grab the coffee, she had brought him, he smiled. Maybe he could convince her to make a habit of this.

Every week his sister had been at the manor over the course of her winter break, Dick had been beaten to the kitchen. As he stumbled through the kitchen once again at an ungodly hour of the morning, he realized that he could hear Alfred and his sister talking quietly in the smaller dining room. As he made his way into the room, he could make out the tail end of their conversation, “-do know that they would be more than willing to let you talk about this, Miss Marinette. You do not have to carry this burden on your own.” The sound of a disbelieving snort followed.

“I know you keep saying that, Alfred, but I just…they all have such busy lives and there’s so much going on in Gotham and- “

“and you are still part of the family, Miss Marinette. Master Bruce is starting to worry about you, and Master Dick is starting to notice that you are avoiding the topic. Do not shut them out, when they can help you. This situation may need an outside touch.” When Alfred finished speaking, Dick decided that he had overheard more than he should have.

“Alfred? Are you in here?” When he called out for the older man, Dick watched with a cringe as little Marinette jumped at his voice. “Hey Net! I’m not sure if I should be jealous that5 you keep beating me down in the mornings!” as he teased her, he watched her eyes light up.

“Well, Dick, you try being the child of two bakers- “as the girl started her comeback, a groggy voice cut through the air.

“what the hell are you all doing up?” the three turned to see Tim standing in the recently vacated doorway, clutching his water bottle and looking around with bloodshot eyes. “it’s like, 2 am.” At Tim’s declaration, Marinette giggled.

“Tim? Its almost 6?” the look of shock that flashed over the boy’s face made Dick frown. Tim’s all-nighters were becoming more and more frequent. The way the teen stumbled out of exhaustion was worrying.

“Hey Timmy? Let’s get you to bed.”

In the week prior to Christmas, Bruce made it a point to try and come home earlier so that he could spend more time with both Marinette and Tim, who were both supposed to be enjoying their winter breaks. He knew, of course, that Tim had wheedled his way into doing extra course work over the holiday to cut down on time spent in school. That didn’t mean that he expected the boy to focus solely on the work. Imagine his surprise when he had come home to both of his teens settled in the sitting room working. Marinette was sketching furiously, while Tim was typing away on his laptop with a ferocity that would scare many of the villains that populated Gotham. Bruce blinked in shock before turning to find Alfred standing off to the side smiling.

“They have adjusted their habits so that they can bond even though this season is busy for the both of them, Master Bruce.” He turned back to his children and smiled at the two of them as they continued working, unaware of anything outside of the sitting room.

The next morning, when Dick came down, expecting to see his sister and Alfred, he was instead met with the sight of macaroons cooling on the counters. On the island, there were croissants, and on the stove, there were pans full of freshly baked sugar cookies. He blinked in concern and turned around the room searching. On the other side of the kitchen was his sister, standing over the sink, hands unmoving, as she gazed out at the slowly rising sun. Her eyes were unfocused, and as Dick made his way over, his eyes focused on the slight tremor that was running through her hands. “Net?” When he received no answer, he moved closer, “Marinette? Hey- “the girl moved, and Dick’s hand shot out and caught the bowl that she had been holding and set it down. Gently, he guided his sister out of the kitchen and led her into the sitting room, where they passed Alfred as he made his way down for the morning.

Once Dick had Marinette settled, he sat next to her and held out one of his hands, leaving the offer for comfort open as the girl blinked and started to look around in confusion.

One moment, Marinette had been starting on the dishes, the next, she was sitting on the love seat in the siting room next to her brother. The sharp poke in her side that had brought her out of her mind was one that she could only attribute to Tikki. As she sat there, adjusting to the change in location, Marinette took a deep breath to ground herself. She wasn’t expecting her brother to speak.

“Do you want to talk about it, Net?” The girl studied the Man sitting next to her for a moment. When she decided that she couldn’t find any hint of insincerity, Marinette nodded hesitantly and trained her eyes on her hands. They were twisting in her lap, working as a distraction and an outlet for the nervous energy that had been building up since August.

“I- “Dick waited patiently for the girl to collect her thoughts, “I love Paris, I really do. I mean- it’s the place I grew up! But. Well, recently.” She hesitated again. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. “everything is wrong!” The phrase tore out of her, and she clamped her mouth shut afterwards as her mind flew through damage control ideas. “I mean. Well. Everything is do tense. Too perfect. No one can feel anything!” When had she started crying? Marinette could have sworn that she had a better handle on her emotions after spending the last five months held emotionally hostage. As she started to devolve into true sobs, Dick pulled the girl into a hug, and she clung to him. For the first time in almost five months the girl was able to truly process what was going on in her home city.

When Alfred came to check on them 20 minutes later, he found the duo sitting curled on the couch. In the other doorway stood a shocked Bruce. Alfred smiled at the look of shock on the fathers face before the man strode over to join his oldest and his youngest. As Alfred turned to go back into the kitchen and finish making sense of all of Marinette’s baking, the man shook his head. Who knew that the habits that Marinette influenced would be the ones that would bring the Paris situation to light?

so, i plan on picking up in the same place for tomorrow’s prompt (overprotection) so i didnt resolve anything. i think i have the rest of the month plotted out as well! as soon as i have a day where im not stuck at work all day, im going to go through and put all of these in a master post, along with my other fic *ideas*.

just so that i can also clear up any potential confusion, no. Damian is not yet present in this. yes. he will eventually. at this point, Marinette is 13, Tim is 15, Jason (who is going to be in the background for a bit still) is 19(ish) and Dick is either 24 or 25, i haven’t decided. I do plan on including more of the Batclan as i go...

#b!dbwm2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne #My writing #marinette dupen chang #maribat #miraculous ladybug #here we go #(do i smell a bit of plot?)#(that may be camembert)

197 notes · View notes

fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn’t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #sunset curve #alive au #willex #willie #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #viva las vegas #with him #fiddlepickdouglas

17 notes · View notes

chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Text

Every Little Thing's Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 22

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 - Chapter 21

Evelyn had woken up more than a few times recently with Jack's gaze on her like that morning, but compared to the other times, there was no trace of melancholy in Jack's gaze for her imminent departure, which he disguised with his smile.

She felt good. And it wasn't because Cece had slept through most of the night in her comfy cot that Jack had bragged about quite a bit that morning. She didn't know why either, she just knew she felt at peace and wanted things to continue that way for as long as possible.

Jack had gone off to train again while she had occupied the day chatting with Deb first and her mother later. And then when Jack had returned, they had enjoyed a few moments together. Jack had placed Cece on his chest while lying comfortably on the couch and had even sent a few pictures to Ben knowing how much he missed not having his niece around. Needless to say they'd bickered for a few minutes and she'd just laughed, observing their friendship which she'd rarely had the opportunity to see anyway.

"How are you?"

"What do you mean? I'm right here in front of you, you can see me" Evelyn looked up confused at the question, chuckling as she set the dry dishes in the shelf.

"Yeah but we haven't talked about it yet. Face to face I mean" she sighs, she knew it would happen sooner or later. They'd mentioned the matter when it had happened but she'd always waved it off with very elusive answers, knowing that with Jack she wouldn't be able to hide anymore.

"And I let it go during this time because there was already little time to spend with you. But we can talk about it now if you want"

"It's just that I don't care" she can clearly feel Jack move at her statement, her not turning around yet.

"Yes you do, worrying is part of you"

"That's okay. I don't want to constantly pour my worries on you. I don't want to be a burden anymore"

"Come with me" Jack caresses her shoulders before leaving a kiss on them and then offering her a hand which she stares at almost studying it for a moment before accepting it and letting herself be carried by him.

"Jack" she starts but without the need to add anything else, passing Jack also takes the carrier with Cece continuing to walk as if nothing happened. Stupidly she smiles but without losing focus on where they are going. And eventually she finds herself in his indoor pool.

Evelyn tries to resist by increasing her grip on Jack's hand but he doesn't seem to notice, going to place the carrier away from the water but still within sight. He then turns to her smiling and leaving a kiss on her lips.

"Let's do this, voice your concerns one last time. Like a confessional. Then we'll let the water take them away"

"You'll empty the pool?"

"Not the point" he leaves a peck on her nose sketching a smile.

"Hmm so I have to go in there?"

"I think that's the whole point" she switches her gaze from his waiting face and that stretch of water, swallowing hard. "What is it?"

"I um... I don't, you know... I can't swim"

"Unbelievable" he chuckles at first, "But wait I'm sure Ben is more than capable"

"In fact I said I couldn't swim. Not a word about my brother"

"May I ask why?"

"I don't know... Our parents took me for lessons just as they did with him, but all I remember is three year old me attached to my father's leg with my eyes swollen with tears. I knew even then that my dad was the softer one and that he wouldn't let me do it" a small giggle escapes her lips as she shakes her head at the memory of that day, of her first and last swimming lesson.

"Ben's tried over the years too but it's come to nothing and... so now I'm just staying as far away as possible, that's all"

"So this has started way back" at her raised eyebrow, he continued "The fact that you can't really let you go"

"I don't know..." she huffs running a hand through her hair, "maybe what-what are you doing?" Evelyn forgets everything going through her mind at the exact moment Jack takes off his shirt in such a fluid gesture leaving it a few steps away from where he is.

"It's just the two of us here. Do you trust me?"

"Jack" she groans bringing her hands up to cover her face and throwing a look at her little girl wishing she would go to her aid at that very moment. Only she couldn't be any quieter with her little fingers in her mouth.

"Well if you want a kiss... come and get it" and he's in the water now, arms crossed on the edge as he looks at her quietly in anticipation while she feels her legs go mushy but heavy at the same time.

"I might as well do it this way, dry and safe" so he looks at her challenging her as he slowly moves away from the edge coming more and more towards the middle, letting go and just floating on that surface.

"Oh I'm definitely not coming there" the words come out of her mouth before she can stop them making him laugh.

"You just want to see me take my clothes off, admit it"

"Maybe" Jack states seriously but after the wink he can't take it and gives in to the laughter again.

"You know what, water actually scares me. When I'm here it's like it makes me vulnerable, exposed, like my thoughts have a free pass to attack me. And I won't hide the fact that more than a few times I've sat exactly where you are staring at the water with the fear that going in would force me to deal with things I wasn't ready to face"

"Why do you keep going in then?"

"Because it made me think about good things too and those are always worth it" staring into his eyes after that she already knows she's lost it. In a burst of courage she takes off her shirt and a shiver runs down her spine. She looks at Jack slightly embarrassed as he slowly walks to the edge of the pool.

"If my daughter becomes an orphan I swear-"

"That won't happen" he reassures her following her every step, helping her slowly into the water and resting his hands firmly at her waist, "We're not going any further than this, your back will always touch the edge" he whispers to her continuing to smile reassuringly as she entwines her hands around his neck.

"I want my kiss" she moans making him chuckle before he slowly cancels out that little distance between them.

"Hmm I need to stop listening to you. You're always pushing me to do things..."

"Too bad you like me" he murmurs into her lips. Sometimes we simply need someone to push us to try new things, to push our limits, to always go a little beyond the comfort zone. We need someone who challenges us to improve ourselves and discover new things and change our minds about others.

"Yeah you're right" their lips meet again, and surely the cold felt just before has disappeared completely replaced by heat. Heat coming from their bodies and the situation, from involuntary touches and their hearts beating fast. One of Jack's hands goes up higher as Evelyn's legs go to wrap around his waist pulling him even closer to her. And then Cece starts to cry and a sigh escapes both of their lips.

"You've got to be kidding me" she murmurs rolling her eyes as Jack chuckles resting his chin in the crack of her neck, leaving a kiss there.

"What, you like water now?"

"I wish she would have cried before I came in, helping her mum"

"Oh no no, I said to her earlier please be good, your mum needs to take herself less seriously"

"Since you two are getting along so well, I'll just leave her here with you when I leave" she sticks her tongue out at him before getting him to help her out of the pool and after quickly drying themselves off they both walk over to Cece to soothe her crying. They go back into the house to change her nappy and feed her again, Jack watches as Evelyn gently rocks the little one to sleep and watches as she carefully places her in her cot and always stays to make sure she sleeps peacefully for at least ten minutes before walking away.

"I'd be happy if you'd both stay you know" he murmurs to her before leaving a kiss on her temple and ajaring the door to the room. And she finds herself back in that room in the middle of the night, having woken up and checked that everyone was still asleep. She sits at the edge of that pool with her legs to her chest, looking at the water which is partially lit by a small window right on top of one wall.

She can feel what Jack had described to her only a few hours before, the calmness of that place that forces her to reflect and to bring to the surface some things that are in a remote corner of her brain. And she thinks about the future, starts to consider some options, to imagine her likely life to see if she could make it. And when she goes back to bed, with Jack immediately holding her close, she thinks it would be worth it after all.

----

I have a question for you guys. Since I've never carried on a story with so many chapters, could you please let me know if it still makes sense or is it time for me to, I don't know, start working on an ending?

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 23

#every little things gonna be alright #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #jack grealish #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish imagines #ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell imagine

32 notes · View notes

sevlgi · 4 years

Text

patient

requested: yes

group: mamamoo

pairing: hwasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: tattoo artist!hwasa, flustered!reader [15/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: It’s hard for you to be patient about your next tattoo session when your artist is so damn gorgeous.

a/n: um??? I love tattoo aus???? also don’t come at me for the name, I’m not creative

word count: 1.9k

“Elegant Chaos.”

You test the name out on your tongue, staring up at the slightly grimy neon sign of the shop. The entire front is one-way glass, so all you can see is your own reflection and the ones of the people bustling around you.

Before you can make up a decision to open the door to the store or not, someone else does; a pretty brunette woman steps out and smiles at you, crazy beautiful with full lips and crescent-eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah.” You show her the printed-out address your friend sent you and step a bit closer. “Is this a tattoo shop? I searched the address up but nothing resulted, I was referred by a friend.”

She barely takes a glance at the address before flashing another bright grin. “Oh, yep! This is our tattoo shop, we opened a couple months ago. It’s weird that we’re still not showing up, but oh, well. Want to come in?”

You barely register her quick words but step into the shop after her, the smell of rubbing alcohol, paper, and perfume vaguely stinging your nose. “I’m Solar, the receptionist,” she introduces, walking behind what you presume to be her desk. Out front, some teenagers talk quietly, a tall, dark-haired boy with a sleeve sipping at a banana milk.

“Cool. Uh, I’m Y/N. I don’t have an appointment, is that okay?”

Solar nods, tapping at her phone. “Sure. Jungkook over there is just waiting for Byul to finish her other client, and Wheein is prepping to pierce the kids. Hwasa’s our best artist, anyway, does that sound good?”

Her question startles you from staring at the intricate sketches taped all over the walls, the same 3 signatures stamped everywhere. “What?”

She laughs, though it’s not rude. “We have one artist left, Hwasa, but since you’re referred, you probably don’t have someone in mind, right? You can go to see her now, she’s free.”

“Great. Do I just...?” At Solar’s nod, you walk past her and into the back. The studio’s quite small, to be honest; there are 4 stations, two of them occupied. One of them, who you guess is Byul, is tattooing an elderly man, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the art on her bicep.

The second, probably Wheein, is wiping down her tools, and she’s the first to notice you. “Hi!” she grins, turning the music blasting from the radio down with her ungloved hand. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Solar mentioned that I should come find Hwasa,” you explain, eyes widening at the complicated art being tattooed on the elderly man. “Are you...?”

“No, I’m Wheein.” Ah, so you were right. “This is Byul, she’s a bit preoccupied,” Wheein smiles, dimples poking into her cheeks. “I’ll get Hye- sorry, Hwasa for you.”

She hurries out to the back, and you can hear talking through the open door, before she comes back, the woman you presume to be Hwasa behind her.

Instantly, you’re starstruck; she’s stunning in a way that’s completely unique, long dark hair and tanned skin contrasting beautifully. The only makeup she wears is a bold red lipstick, her tank top showing the delicate tattoos she has. “Hey, I’m Hwasa,” she greets, sticking her hand out. Her nails are long, too.

“Y/N.” You accept the handshake, trying not to stare. “Uh, Solar said you were free for a consultation?”

“Yeah.” She sits at one of the free stations, clearing the things scattered on the table. “So, what’re you looking for? Do you already have a design chosen or am I freehanding?”

You fumble in your bag for a piece of paper, sliding it over to Hwasa. “Um, this is just something my friend drew up for me. I want it pretty small, on my forearm.”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, unfolding the paper. “I could do that. Is this your first tattoo?”

Nodding, you watch as Hwasa taps her long, red-painted nails on the desk. “Okay. Is this part of a sleeve or by itself?”

“Uh, how long would each one take?” To be honest, you have no idea why you said that; you didn’t consider a sleeve at all, though you considered multiple tattoos or a large one. There’s just something about the other woman that makes it impossible for you to think.

She considers the question before answering, “Depends on the size and how many small ones you want to work in for the sleeve, but I’d recommend a separate session for each small square, so maybe 8 or 10. I’ll be done with this in less than 30 minutes, though, if it’s just the one.”

To be honest, the only thing causing you to consider a sleeve is getting to see Hwasa again, and you curse your own attraction to her when you blurt, “Maybe a sleeve? I have to think about the other ones I want to work in, though.”

“Okay. I can just do the one today, and we can schedule another day for you to come in and design the whole thing,” she offers, picking the sketch up. “I’ll go make this into a stencil, then.”

“Sure.”

When she takes the sketch and walks to the back room, you slump down in the chair and pivot to look at the others. You quickly realize how long you were talking with Hwasa; Byul is already working on the coconut-haired boy, and Wheein is already done with the teenagers.

She seems to be the outgoing type, and waves at you while sanitizing her needles and packing her kit up again. “So, how did it go? Are you going to start today?”

“I am, yep. You’re already done with the kids?”

Wheein nods, placing the studs back into their cases. “Yep. They just wanted more lobe piercings, it’s really easy. I’m a tattoo artist, too, but I think the kids like me more. Except for Jungkook over here, they think Byul’s intimidating.”

“I’m not!” the other woman protests, hands still steady as she works on the boy. Her voice is deeper than you’d expect. “You literally call me a hamster.”

Flapping a hand, Wheein flashes you her dimples again. “So, what do you think of Hwasa?”

“Huh?” you blink, brain basically short-circuiting. “Uh, she’s a good artist? I saw some of her sketches, yours too; you’re all really talented.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Wait, you’re not straight, are you?” she narrows her eyes at you, scanning you from head to toe. “Maybe my sense is broken, I didn’t peg you for a...”

“I’m not. Straight. I’m a lesbian.” Your cheeks burn to say it aloud, though nobody really reacts, not even Jungkook. “Are you?”

Wheein shrugs, “I mean, I’m attracted to women. All 4 of us are- Hyejin, Byul, Yongsun. Solar, to you. And we make sure everyone who comes in is accepting, we won’t serve bigots.”

For whatever reason, you’re almost relieved to hear that Hwasa’s also attracted to women in some sense, even though it doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s attracted to you. “Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah. So, is it just one tattoo or a sleeve?” Her knowing smile puts you off a bit; how did she figure it out? “A lot of girls who come in here change their original idea because of Hyejin-ah. You’re obviously attracted to her, to, so it’s no surprise.”

“Is it really that obvious?” you groan, surprising yourself with how open you’re being about it. “Do you think she knows?”

“Probably,” Wheein giggles, nodding when Solar pokes her head in the studio to tell her something. “Anyway. I’ve got to go, good luck!”

She waves as she leaves, the only noise left in the studio being the quiet music and Jungkook’s quiet talking. He seems just as awkward as you are, lifting his free hand in a half wave.

You’re saved by Hwasa returning with a stencil. “Here. Does that look good?”

She’s modified the original design just the tiniest bit, making the lines a little bit darker and the shading simpler, and it looks... “Perfect.” You grin, a weight on your chest lifted by your conversation with Wheein. “Should we start?”

“Sure.” She brings you over to one of the actual tattoo stations, the seat already smelling sanitized. You can barely listen as she explains what the process will be like- cleaning, the actual tattooing, pain; you finally come to when she asks, “Are you ready?”

“I... yeah. I am.”

It’s quiet until the buzzing of the tattoo gun brings you to life, the tiniest bit of fear sour on your tongue. Hwasa looks concentrated as she peels the stencil off, not exactly reassuring, either. “So. Is there a meaning behind this?”

“Uh, not really. Are there meanings behind yours?” You gasp when the needle first touches your skin, the cold wipe taking off excess ink.

“I have some matching tattoos with Wheein,” Hwasa explains, smiling at the mention of the other girl. “Uh, one is Maria, my Christian name. Wheein has more, but all of us have some kind of meaning behind ours. It’s not bad to have no meaning, though.”

You wince as she continues with the linework, slowly getting used to the pain. “Are you and Wheein...”

She looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Together? No, we’re best friends. I haven’t been with someone in a few years.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Hwasa laughs, wiping your arm once again. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just patient enough to wait for the right person.”

“Patient. Right.”

Conversation flows smoothly, mostly light topics. You learn each other’s ages, and you’re told to call Hwasa ‘Hyejin’ instead. You learn when she got her first tattoo, and when she learned to tattoo others. The more you talk, the more drawn in you are, fascinated by her every word.

The half an hour is over far too fast. “Done,” she announces, smiling as she turns off her gun. “Take a look.”

It looks gorgeous, as expected, though Hwasa plays off your barrage of compliments. “Uh, should I pay now?”

She shrugs, placing saran wrap over your arm. “We’ll go talk with Solar about that, she’s better with pricing than I am. But it probably won’t be much.”

“What? Why?” you frown, examining the tattoo. Usually, discounts only happen when something goes wrong, or you have a coupon. You’re pretty sure neither of those things apply.

Hwasa pauses, turning to send you a small smirk. “Well, the cute ones usually pay less.”

Your heart practically stops, though you force yourself to walk to the front with her. “Besides, you’re probably coming back again soon, right?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I think so. When will that be? The next session, I mean.”

She frowns, tapping at the tablet Solar hands her. “You can come in as soon as you’re free to design it, if you want, but you have to wait a bit for the next session, especially if you’re doing the things close together. If you want, I can give you my number.”

At your stricken expression, Hwasa’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “So you can send me ideas, for the sleeve.”

“Ah, of course.” Your cheeks burn as you take out your cash, counting out a surprisingly small amount. “That sounds good. I guess I’ll just have to be patient, then.”

“I guess so. Call me, Y/N,” she smiles, handing your phone back with a new contact in.

Being patient is going to be so damn hard.

113 notes · View notes

jeanjauthor · 3 years

Note

Thanks for replying to me. I suppose for me to putting it all to paper is a bit different; I share many of these worlds with my friend, but becoming a writer used to be my biggest dream. I gave up on it after one of my trusted professors didn't seem to respond well to my plans. I have a pile of books for research, but I can't get my motivation stronger than my crippling depression. When I think of my ideas, I wonder if it's all been done before. I want to put it to paper, but my own mind stops me. It's rough.

*gives a major spiritual wedgie to said professor...perhaps three or four or fifty-five times...*

It is indeed rough. It hurts when you express your dreams and aren't met with matching enthusiasm, encouragement, etc. Especially from someone you look up to and whose opinion you're inclined to weigh more heavily in its importance than the same words from someone else. I know that feeling, it's debilitating, discouraging, and flat-out sucks.

I don't know what to say to help you get past that debilitating depression, other than to hold fast to how good your story ideas make you feel, and repeat to yourself your encouragements from your friend. And then maybe just...focus on some of the worldbuilding, sketch that out, write it down in little notes to yourself, so the details begin to remain consistent?

And then maybe plop a character into those details, and ask yourself, how would so-and-so react to such-and-such? You can literally borrow characters from other writers' universes for this (which is how fanfic sometimes gets started). The way how The Doctor of Doctor Who fame will react to something is going to be vastly different from the Doctor of Star Trek: Voyager versus any doctor from, say, Grey's Anatomy the t.v. show. Or maybe Buffy the Vampire Slayer versus Bella from the Twilight novels. Or even Shrek from his eponymous movies versus The Incredible Hulk (comic book, t.v. show, or MCU, your choice).

...Sometimes it's easier to start telling a story in someone else's sandbox than it is in your own, or with someone else's "story toys." It's often not as intimidating. You don't have to do all the work, because you're playing with characters and/or a setting that someone else created.

There are two more things to consider, and the first is the paralyzing fear of "what if my writing turns out crappy / riddled with errors???" This is a common one among writers. (Yes, even those of us with literal dozens of books published, like myself!) And I gotta say--even if you won't believe me--SO WHAT?? (Sorry for the scary shouting, but...)

One of the upper-crust storytellers that I know, like easily top 20%, maybe top 15% of those who are amateurs and those who are pros...is absolutely horrible at spelling, punctuation, grammar, etc. But she tells an amazing story. My inner editor dislikes all those errors, but I love the twists and turns she brings to her stories. And as I've told her many times, if you have technically perfect writing, go write a technical manual. If you can tell a story, tell that story. The polishing of that story is the part where you just go find or hire a good patient editor or beta editor who is willing to work with you.

Don't worry about the quality of your writing. WRITE. The rest only comes with practice, and the only way to practice is to--you guessed it--just write.

Try little things to get the pump flowing. Write down a character description. Write down a location description. Write that character interacting with said location, like...they're in a fancy dressing room, do they sit at the vanity table and start brushing their hair, applying makeup, triming their moustache, or putting on socks and shoes?

...The other point of consideration is your comment about whether or not your particular story has been told before. This is...both moderately true, and yet very false.

Story archetypes have been told and retold for generations. So if you have a story of a kid who gets dragged off his farm to go on a dangerous adventure, gets taught how to swing an enchanted sword, ends up having to fight an enemy with a vast army, blah blah blah...did I just recite the tale of young King Arthur...or Luke Skywalker? Or Garion who becomes Belgarion in the David Eddings Belgariad series?

This is quite possibly true for pretty much 99.98% of all stories, they almost all share story archetypes.

However, no one would ever claim that the Belgariad quintilogy is the same as the Star Wars stories is the same as the Arthurian legends.

The exact story you choose to tell, the elements you choose to put into it, can and will make your story unique.

Don't believe me? Have the twins be swapped, and it's Leia Skywalker rescuing Prince Luke Organa, and suddenly there's a whole different dynamic to the original Star Wars movie. Leia will make slightly different choices (similar due to her upbringing, but different), and while she could wind up with Han...well, Han and Prince Luke could've wound up having a yaoi love interest thing going on.

If you fear your story is risking running into "way too similar to another already established tale" territory ...then mix it up. Swap roles, genders, presentations, social statuses, love interests, et cetera. You can fanfic your own writing as much as you want, especially when trying to figure out what you want to write.

And by writing short little fanfic snippets...you'll find it easier to write. They're fanfics, they're throwaway. You can always hit Delete. Or hit Save As, and save it under a file name such as "Don't Look At This number 317".

You have stories to tell. Tell them to yourself, tell them to your friend, tell them to your wordprocessing software or your spiral notebook, or your cat. Or maybe your dog. A dog might actually try to listen; not sure about a cat. it depends on the cat.

#answers #vespertinecat

10 notes · View notes

matchasprouts · 3 years

Text

Listen Closer - Chapter 15

[ can't wait for Strahm to get pegged <3 we have so much more pining to get through first though ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

It took some doing, but the water box was done by the start of the next month. It was… rough figuring out how he was supposed to get Strahm into the box without needing to weld it back together on his head.

Eventually he just settled for a metal bottom that he would clip back together when it was on him. They were locked, so he couldn’t just undo them and escape. No, if he wanted to live, he would have to get hurt.

Once it was finished, he got the trap set up in one of the rooms of the packing plant, one that wasn’t currently in use. It took some doing to get it hanging and attach the pipes that would fill it with water, but he managed it with a little bit of help from Lawrence.

Next was the trap for one Ivan Landness- and, as excited as he was for it, it was going to be difficult. He couldn’t build it all together, and it had to be made with the bed it was going to be attached to in mind.

Luckily, Garrett loved a challenge.

The only problem was that he was now legally Mark’s specialist, meaning he had to be brought in for every Jigsaw case.

So that’s why he was, very unwillingly, standing over a crispy corpse.

This was one of Amanda’s traps, he remembered seeing her pack up the chains surrounding the body to bring to the room they were standing in. He’d been told that they had to burn the door open, meaning the player had no chance to escape whatsoever.

“Who do you think put this one together?” Strahm asked when he realized Garrett was there, gaining a soft, thoughtful hum from him.

“Looks like Amanda Young,” he replied, lightly kicking one of the scorched chains. “I heard the door was welded shut. He couldn’t have escaped it even if he won. He was always doomed to death.”

Was he lowkey calling Amanda out on her bullshit when she wasn’t around? Yes. He was still pissed about Kerry’s trap.

“How many of her traps have you seen?” Strahm seemed at least a little bit concerned that he could guess who it was almost immediately, but Garrett just shrugged.

He brought a hand up to his face to lightly scratch at his scar before responding. “Not many. This is a new development, to be honest. But any trap put together by Kramer is escapable, if not difficult.”

“There’s also the third unknown apprentice,” Strahm offered, and Garrett genuinely found it funny that he was talking about this mysterious third apprentice to one of the longest standing ones.

Garrett just hummed again, taking another look at the body, before looking up at the ceiling and finding more chains hanging from the ceiling.

He should probably make his sketch so he could get out of there. He found a comfy spot on the floor that gave him a good view of all the chains and got to work in his Official Work sketchbook, vaguely noting that people were staying out of his way whenever he looked up.

Man, being an actual specialist was pretty fucking cool.

“Okay, I’ve gotta head out, but give me a call if you need any clarification,” he said as he finished the sketch, ripping it out of the book and handing it over to Strahm. “Try not to find another- whoa, did this scar?” He had meant to run out of there, but he got distracted by Strahm’s hand when he reached up to grab the sketch,

Garrett immediately grabbed Strahm’s hand to check out the bite scar on it, grinning at the idea that one simple bite from one very feral man was enough to scar him.

Strahm fucking froze at the contact, and Garrett could feel his arm tense up where he was holding it. Of course, this just made him want to fuck with him.

So he put Strahm’s hand in his mouth, perfectly lined up his teeth with the scar, and gently bit down.

It wasn’t enough pressure to pierce the skin, but Garrett could feel Strahm shaking at the feeling. Garrett grinned, pulling back only to bite down on the agent’s exposed forearm, leaving him with another bleeding bite mark as he made his way out of the room, licking his lips clean of the blood.

At this point, the only way Strahm would escape his teeth is by arresting him.

Unfortunately he couldn’t go straight home. Part of being an official specialist meant that after he looked over every trap, he had to go down to the precinct to file his own report about it. Apparently that was the easiest way to ensure that no information was missed in the file.

Luckily, it was only the trap that he had to report on, nothing about the victim or anything that would lead them to Jigsaw. Just the trap. Thank god, because he straight up didn’t pay attention to crime scenes.

He did, however, have his own mini office now! It was small, but that was okay, because it had windows so he could watch everyone passing by. It was a simple and easy way to get to know people without actually talking to them.

Also having an office was fucking banger and anybody who didn’t like him before was now stuck with him.

Upon arriving at his little office (he had his own keycard to get into this part of the building now- a keycard! He was growing too powerful) he immediately tossed his bag onto the ground and started up his computer, as well as grabbing the blank form he had to fill out every time he looked at a trap.

Apparently, they liked to have a physical record as well as a digital one. This was very unfortunate for Garrett, because he hated doing the same thing twice, and he hated waiting for photos of the trap too.

To distract himself from how much he hated paperwork, he got to work on the paperwork. He started with the physical copy first, just because it would be easier to type it word for word and not worry about losing what he’d already written.

He was just about to start on the digital copy when there was a knock on his door. “You better have my photos,” Garrett said when he noticed who it was, and Strahm took that as his invitation to come in.

His arms were completely covered now, probably to hide the fresh mark Garrett left him with. That made him smirk a little, before sticking his hand out and making the grabby hand motion at him so he’d hand over the photos.

Once they were in his grasp, he immediately took out a sharpie and began to label the parts of the trap. He was allowed to do this solely because they made extra copies separate to the ones he used.

“How’s your arm doing?” Garrett asked, keeping his focus on his work but also incredibly aware that Strahm was just standing there. At the promise of conversation, Strahm finally sat down.

“Did you have to do that? Like, really?” Strahm replied, and Garrett could vaguely see him reach up to loosen his tie, even undoing a few of the buttons on his shirt.

“Yes, I did,” Garrett responded without a moment’s hesitation, flipping to the next photo he needed to label. “I’m not sorry for scarring you, by the way. I’d only known you for, like, an hour and it freaked me out.”

Strahm just hummed, a sort of non-verbal way of saying he understood. Garrett flipped to the next, and last, photo and finished up his labelling, moving back to the computer to finish the digital version of the report.

There was an awkward silence- well, awkward on Strahm’s end. He clearly had something he wanted to ask, but was seemingly afraid of doing. Garrett, on the other hand, was just vibing.

And finally, he asked his burning question. “Do you think Hoffman is Jigsaw?”

Holy SHIT.

Garrett almost choked and the suddenness, suddenly very grateful that Strahm couldn’t see him behind his monitor. Did he… really just ask… if he thought his boyfriend was Jigsaw…?

He wasn’t sure whether to tell him straight up that they were both Jigsaw, or fuck him on the spot for being a fucking idiot.

After a moment of deliberation, he decided he was going to give him another gay panic attack. “Why would I think that? I live with him, I think I would have noticed if he was running off to play Jigsaw.”

Strahm tensed up a little at that, apparently not having processed that Garrett and Mark weren’t just… hanging out when he showed up to check on him after he left the hospital.

“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but there’s just- I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just how he acts with Jigsaw cases and how he’s one of the only members of the task force left-”

He was rambling now, giving Garrett ample time to get up from his desk, walk around it, and plant himself behind Strahm’s chair. When he placed his hands on the back of it, his knuckles brushing against the agent’s back, that was when he shut up, freezing suddenly.

Garrett took his chance, leaning down until he was right next to Strahm’s ear. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with that sort of thing, Special Agent,” he whispered, noticing a minute shiver from Strahm at the feeling of warm breath against his neck. “We know who Jigsaw is. And I would tell you if I suspected Detective Hoffman.”

His hands had moved to Strahm’s shoulders, one toying with the collar of his shirt and the other messing with the top most button.

Strahm was so easy to rile up. Garrett could tell he was trying not to make a sound.

“But… you’ll keep me updated on this theory of yours, yes?” he asked, and Strahm stiffly nodded. Garrett smiled, leaning close enough that his lips brushed against Strahm’s neck. “Good boy.”

He pressed a kiss to Strahm’s neck, trailing his tongue over the spot before biting down gently- still hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to bleed-, and then pulling away and sitting back down at his desk. “Could you take this up to Mark for me?” he asked, holding the file out to Strahm, who was flushed down to his neck.

The agent stood up quickly, grabbed the file, and left without another word.

Yeah, Garrett could use this attraction. Besides, it made working with him so much more fun.

#story tag: listen closer #self ship fic #self shipping #self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #s/i: garrett whitlock #mark hoffman #lawrence gordon #peter strahm #romantic: 🦿🩺#romantic: ⛓🕵️‍♂️#romantic: 🖊💧#(poly) romantic: ⛓🩺🖊#chapter 15

4 notes · View notes

everydayescapeartist · 3 years

Text

First Lines

Tagged by @forbiddenfantasies1 -- Thank you! This was fun!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

1) Jaime stood perusing the wide selection of cards in the Harrenhalmark Gift Shop aisle. (Wench You Care Enough to Send the Very Best, Jaime/Brienne, rated G)

2) It had been a relatively slow night so far. (Ladies’ Night at the Lion’s Den, Jaime/Brienne, rated M)

3) The movie theater was quiet. (The Christmas Leap, Katniss/Peeta, rated M)

4) She’d known this would be part of her creative writing class. (Smut Writing for Dummies, Jaime/Brienne, rated E)

5) She only does it because it’s for Sansa’s Psychology Research class and because Sansa promises her anonymity will be kept and because Sansa is her best friend. (It’s Hard To Look Right At Ya, Baby, Jaime/Brienne, rated T)

6) Joanna and Aleysia were as close as sisters, though they shared no blood. (I Don’t Want to Toe the Line, Jaime/Brienne, rated T)

7) Jaime couldn’t believe he was here, actually considering doing this. (A Knight Under the Big Top, Jaime/Brienne, rated T)

8) There she stood in the dark, feeling all the fool she should for letting Renly talk her into coming to this stupid party. (Seven Minutes with the Seven, Jaime/Brienne, rated G)

9) “I was wondering, my queen, if you’d be so kind as to bend the knee for me.” (Bend the Knee, Jon/Daenerys, rated M)

10) She’d been so excited to get to learn from him, the Golden Lion, knighted (by Ser Arthur Dayne no less) when he was just 15, and invited into the Kingsguard that same year. (Gonna give you all my love, boy, Jaime/Brienne, rated E)

11) She sat at the small, round wooden table feeling numb, staring at the faces around her, the faces deciding a fate she had no say in. (Build a Bridge, Katniss/Peeta, rated M - Note: I realized I suck pretty badly on this one because I forgot that I posted it for PiP, so while I’ve had eight chapters drafted for several years, I kind of forgot anyone might be awaiting them. *hangs head in shame* As you can see if you look at my works list, life shit got real around here and I was just rolling into a hiatus at this point, though I didn’t know it at the time. I cannot make any promises, but perhaps I’ll try to finish this one in some way that satisfies me and post it eventually. Probably no one cares at this point, but I still feel bad.)

12) We take our turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. (In All Moments, Katniss/Peeta, rated M)

13) Dear Dr. Aurelius, You asked me to write a little something about anything "remarkable" about each of the days of this week since it is the anniversary of Prim's death and you want to make sure I don't just get locked up inside myself again. (Prim, Promise, and Progress, Katniss/Peeta, rated T)

14) "That'll be $4.50," she informed the middle-aged man still in his business suit from work apparently, his fresh-faced beauty of a girlfriend (wife? mistress? who knew?) hanging on his arm. (Change at the Fair, Katniss/Peeta, rated G)

15) "I'm in the mood to play tonight. Are you?" (Web Spinner, Katniss/Peeta, rated E)

16) Katniss settled down comfortably onto the thick branch she’d ascended to, resting her back against the dark bark of the tree’s trunk. (Reading Companion, Katniss/Peeta, rated T)

17) I walk back over to where Finnick is keeping watch and sit back down just a couple feet from him, keeping my eyes trained in the directions he is not covering. (It Can Never Be Enough, Katniss/Peeta, rated T)

18) May (Peeta): He was so happy to have gotten the job. (Hot Buns, Honey Buns, Katniss/Peeta, rated E)

19) “Peeta, come on, man, call it a day!” (Beautiful Shield, Katniss/Peeta, rated T)

20) His fair hair and skin stood out here and that, plus how off-key he was as he sat on the sand humming a tune whilst sketching in a notebook, is what caught Katniss Everdeen’s attention as she made her way past him toward her friends. (New Old Friend, Katniss/Peeta, rated T)

Patterns: I guess I typically try to set the scene a little, let you know where the characters are & generally what they’re doing & maybe how they’re feeling about it. Most times, I don’t start with dialogue, though sometimes I do. Lord knows I use enough dialogue after I give you the initial sentences usually, haha!

Favorites: #5 because it amuses me, like I can feel Brienne’s discomfort in the situation..and because I hope it makes people want to learn more about whatever her predicament is. #8 also because I apparently like Brienne’s feelings in different predicaments, lol. #11, which makes me feel even worse, but yeah, I like the somber feeling of it.

Tagging (apologies, I’m sure I’ll repeat tag someone who has already been tagged/done this - feel free to ignore): @writergirl2011 @ilikeblue @angel-deux-writes @theunpaidcritic @twelvemonkeyswere @bussdowntarthiana @sohereforyou @jennagill @hutchhitched @muttpeeta and anyone else who would like to do this :)

#first lines tag game #eea writes #shit I write #myfic #my fic #braime fics #everlark fics #jonerys fic

10 notes · View notes

emy-loves-you · 4 years

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 3

Welcome to the Chat, Virgil!

Virgil meets Logan and Patton, and learns that the three of them are more than just friends.

Morolo, endgame LAMP

Chapter 2 | Masterlist | Chapter 4

What d'ya say, storm cloud?

Virgil bit his lip, the question looping through his brain. What would he say to that? On one hand, he barely knew Roman. They only had two conversations, with Virgil having an anxiety attack halfway through one. How could Virgil trust him? On the other hand, having more people to talk to other than Janus and Remus… a part of Virgil, the part of him that wanted to cry at the thought of an injured animal, practically sang at the idea. If Patton and Logan were anything like Roman, Virgil knew that they would get along quite nicely. Worst-case scenario, I'll say something stupid and proceed to block their numbers forever.

V- (12:45 PM) As long as your friends are cool with it, I’m down.

R- (12:47 PM) Alrighty then. Just one moment, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.

Virgil blushed at the nickname. Before he could even try and think of a response to that, Princey had already set up the group chat.

R- (12:48 PM) Hello my friends!

?- (12:48 PM) Hi Roro!

?- (12:48 PM) Salutations

V- (12:48 PM) Hey

?- (12:48 PM) Hi! You must Virgil! I’m Patton, he/him pronouns!

?- (12:49 PM) Good afternoon, Virgil. My name is Logan. I also use he/him pronouns.

V- (12:49 PM) Thanks, so I guess Roman’s already blabbed about me? You guys can call me V or Virge if you want, I’m not picky. He/him

L- (12:49 PM) Roman did not tell us much, beyond “He’s a creepy cookie with Pat’s humor and Lo’s smartness.” I also assume that you’re the one Roman assisted last night. I hope the exercises were beneficial.

V- (12:50 PM) They were, thanks

P- (12:50 PM) So, what do you like to do, Virgil?

Virgil bit his lip, glancing around his room. He really didn’t want to tell them about his music career. What if they recognized him and hated him because of his music. Or worse, what if they pretend that they’re friends with him so they can live off of his popularity? His eyes landed on sketch pads and suitcases. That could work.

V- (12:51 PM) I commission art. I also travel around with my friends.

P- (12:51 PM) Ooh, can we see some? Only if you're comfortable of course!

Virgil quickly flipped through his sketchbook. Most of his sketches were designs for The Dark Sides, so they were a no-go. Other drawings had some sort of gore or hellish imagery, and Virgil had a feeling that they wouldn’t like those drawings like Janus and Remus did. He eventually found a drawing that with no blood: it showed three men in dresses, each with their own style. The one on the left wore a black ball gown with yellow accents and yellow elbow-length gloves. The figure on the right had an emerald green mermaid dress with black accents and black fingerless gloves. The one in the center had a purple princess-style dress with black accents and no gloves. Virgil smiled as he sent the photo to the chat. Remus had explained that the only thing he missed from being a girl was the pretty dresses he wore. Janus and Virgil had responded by going to the mall and buying dresses for the three of them, saying that they didn’t need to be girls to wear dresses. Remus had been so happy he almost ripped the dress in his haste to put it on.

P- (12:54 PM) Ohmygosh that’s so pretty! Are these real dresses?

V- (12:54 PM) Yeah. My friend Remus (the one on the right) felt bad for wanting to wear a dress so me and Janus (the one on the left) went dress shopping with him.

R- (12:54 PM) Well, he shouldn’t feel bad. You three SLAY those dresses!

L- (12:55 PM) I also agree. While I don’t believe that I look good in a dress, you three successfully “pull it off.”

Virgil couldn’t help but blush at the compliments. Even though they bought the dresses for Remus’ sake, wearing more feminine clothing was an… invigorating experience. Virgil turned back to the conversation, attempting to change the topic of conversation.

V- (12:56 PM) Okay, I showed my stuff, now it’s your turn. What do you guys like to do?

P- (12:56 PM) I own a bakery/cafe! I just LOVE to bake sweets! Especially cookies! I also LOVE punny jokes!

L- (12:56 PM) I am currently working part-time at a local library. I am attempting to get a master's degree in astronomy and wish to work at the local planetarium. I enjoy reading and stargazing.

R- (12:57 PM) I’m currently an actor at the local theater, though I hope to soon reach my full potential on Broadway!

Virgil smiled at the descriptions. Three VERY different people, all with different dreams and ambitions. And now they’ve roped me into their merry band of misfits.

V- (12:58 PM) So, how did you guys meet each other?

P- (12:58 PM) Me and Lolo were neighbors before we got together. We met Roro in high school. I swear, I thought they hated each other for the longest time! Then I caught Lo and Ro making out junior year, so we sat and talked it out. Now we’re all happily living together!

Virgil blinked, rereading what Patton just typed. Got together? Are they…?

V- (12:59 PM) I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but… are you guys all dating each other?

L- (1:00 PM) Yes, we are. I assumed that Roman informed you of this.

P- (1:00 PM) Ro?

R- (1:04 PM) I apologize, Virgil. I wasn’t sure what your opinions were on polyamory. I hope you can forgive me.

Virgil snorted, imagining the four-minute delay was of Princey getting verbally beaten by Patton and Roman. He imagined Roman wearing a prince outfit (because he’s Princey) with his head in his hands. Patton would be standing over him, hands on his hips, and a disapproving scowl on his face. Logan would be standing next to Patton, arms crossed with an open book still in hand. He quickly turned back to the conversation, not wanting to make them worry.

V- (1:06 PM) It’s fine. I’ve got nothing against polyamory. I would be a hypocrite if I did,

L- (1:07 PM) Are you also in a polyamorous relationship?

V- (1:07 PM) I’ve never been in a relationship. But I WAS thinking about joining Janus and Remus’ relationship when they started dating since we all cared about each other and they offered. I thought about it for a while, but I eventually said no. I see them more like brothers, y’know? And they’re happy together, so it all worked out.

P- (1:08 PM) Good for you, Kiddo! I know it’s hard to tell people that you care about what you want, especially when you don’t know if they feel the same way. You made the right decision. Are you guys still friends?

V- (1:09 PM) Yeah, they’re my best friends. We do everything together

V- (1:09 PM) And “Kiddo”?

P- (1:10 PM) Sorry, you’re all my Kiddos, Kiddo!

L- (1:10 PM) Patton, there is the chance that Virgil is older than all of us.

P- (1:11 PM) Virgil, how old are you? We’re all 24!

Virgil sighed. Patton just gave away his age to someone he just met. I’m not dumb enough to do THAT. Oh, wait, yes I am.

V- (1:11 PM) 25

R- (1:12 PM) He’s just saying that so he’s older than us!

P- (1:12 PM) Ro! Virgil would NEVER lie for something so petty. Would you, Kiddo?

V- (1:13 PM) I mean, if I did you would never know so

R- (1:13 PM) SEE?!?

L- (1:14 PM) While this conversation has been truly invigorating to be a part of, I’m afraid it must end here. I have a shift at the library soon, Patton needs to go manage the lunch rush at the bakery, and Roman is SUPPOSED to clean the apartment while we’re gone. It was a pleasure meeting you, Virgil. I hope to continue this conversation at a later date.

P- (1:14 PM) HOLY SHMOKES YOU’RE RIGHT! I GOTTA GO! BYE KIDDOS!

V- (1:15 PM) Bye Lo, Pat, Princey. Nice talking to ya. See you guys later.

Virgil smiled, setting his phone on the bed as he went to grab his guitar. He was in the mood to play some music, and he needed some lyrics for their next song. He heard his phone go off and waited until he was sitting comfortably on the bed before reading it.

R- (1:17 PM) I knew you guys would get along. Welcome to the chat, Virgil.

V- (1:20 PM) :)

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

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!):

@bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess

#sanders sides fic #useless gays #LAMP fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #men in dresses #texting fic

47 notes · View notes

starrynighttime · 4 years

Text

Chat Blanc: Scarlet Lady AU Part 1

AU by @zoe-oneesama

Big thanks to @minimalist-dreamer for helping me write this!

Part 2

Marinette was having a pretty good day, and she was sure it was only going to get better. First, she had finished all her homework early, then she completed some sketches that she was quite proud of, and now she had a meeting with Adrien at the café with patrol right after! She pushed open the door with a pep in her step. Not even Scarlet Lady could ruin today!

Adrien squirmed in his seat. Plagg had told him over and over that there was nothing to worry about, and he was probably right, but Adrien was still nervous. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he spilled coffee all over himself? What if- Adrien stopped himself before he could assume the worst. It was just going to be him and Marinette, two friends at a coffee shop talking about fashion and other things.

Before long, he heard the bells by the door chime and Marinette walked in. She smiled when she saw him.

“Hey, Adrien! Were you waiting for very long?” she asked, sitting across from him. Adrien shook his head.

“Not at all!” he said, pulling himself out of a trance. They ordered their coffees and caught up a little bit until they arrived. Then Marinette pulled out her sketchbook.

“So, what do you think of these for the upcoming fashion contest?” she asked, sliding it towards him. Adrien flipped through the book curiously and quickly got blown away.

“Wow” was all he could bring himself to say. “T-these are amazing, Marinette.” Marinette smiled shyly.

“Thanks, Adrien. I’m just a bit nervous. I mean, it’s not every day your dad announces a design contest like this. I’m jittery just thinking about it.” she murmured, sipping her coffee. Adrien smiled.

“Well, with designs like these-”

“Well, well, well!” a familiar, haughty voice called from behind them. Marinette and Adrien grimaced in unison as Chloe walked over to their table. “Adrikins, what are you doing here with Dupain-Cheng? You do realize that hanging around with low-lives will turn you into one, right?”

“Is that why he stopped hanging out with you?” Marinette grumbled under her breath. Chloe shot her a dirty look.

“Well, Maritrash-”

“Her name is Marinette.” Adrien interrupted. “And we’re here together because she wanted me to give her some advice on her designs, not that she needed it, though. Her designs are impeccable.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed. Then, she grinned evilly.

“Are they really? I’ll just take a look and--Oopsy!” Chloe poured her coffee onto Marinette’s open sketchbook. “Looks like your designs are ruined.” Adrien’s face contorted with rage.

“Chloe! What the f-”

“Adrien, it’s okay.” Marinette murmured, her voice impossibly calm.

“It’s okay?! But-”

“This is my laminated sketchbook.”

“What?”

“WHAT?!”

Marinette smiled and wiped the coffee off of her designs with her napkin. Sure enough, the laminated pages protected the designs effectively. Marinette smiled innocently at Chloe, who had an expression of pure rage on her face. With a mighty hmph, the Mayor’s daughter stormed out of the café.

Marinette took a sip of coffee and checked her watch. 5:15. “I should probably get going. I have to get up early tomorrow.” Adrien nodded, still frazzled from what had just happened.

“I-yeah, me too. It was great hanging out with you, Marinette.” the baker’s daughter blushed slightly and smiled.

“We should do this again sometime, just us two.” Now it was Adrien’s turn to blush.

“I’d like that.”

———————

Marinette ducked into an alleyway and Pollen flew out of her purse, smiling knowingly.

“Has my queen found her prince?” the kwami teased. Marinette blushed.

“H-he’s just a friend.”

“A very handsome friend.”

“I-I just... Buzz on!” Marinette transformed and threw out her spinning top. She had a patrol to get to.

Adrien stared in shock as Marigold flew out of the alleyway that Marinette was just in.

“What?” He murmured.

Marigold hopped across the rooftops, slightly red in the face. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly ran into Bunnix, who was walking out of her burrow.

“Woah, there, Mini-gold! Slow down before you break an ankle!” Marigold blinked.

“Bunnix? What are you-”

“-Listen carefully.” Bunnix interrupted, placing her hands on Marigold’s shoulders. “Something happened today that caused a major disaster in the future, but I’m not sure what it was or when it happened exactly. Anything unusual to report on your side?”

Surprised, Marigold shook her head. Bunnix chewed on her lip.

“Okay, in my Burrow, now!” Before Marigold could protest, Bunnix grabbed her arm and pulled her through the time portal.

Bunnix put a bowl on Marigold’s head as soon as she was inside.

“Wait, what? Why is-”

“Wanna know what you’re getting for your next birthday?”

“Of course not.”

“Exactly!”

A little while later, Bunnix pushed Marigold through a different portal and removed the bowl from her head. Marigold’s eyes widened.

“What happened here?”

“The less you know about the future, the better. Just capture the Akuma in your weapon and bring it back to me. Then the train will be back on track.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I gotta stand ready to jump back into time and try something else, in case you fail. Mwah!”

Bunnix blew a kiss and walked back into her Burrow. She placed a hand on a nearby portal to watch the events that led up to this moment.

———————

Marigold plopped down next to Cat Noir, who smiled.

“Heya, Goldie. What’s up?”

“Everything, Cat Noir. Today was the perfect day. Not even Scarlet Lady can ruin today!”

“Wow. That good, huh?”

Marigold nodded and looked out at the sunset. Cat Noir snuck a glance at her. How did he not figure it out sooner? Their kindness, their determination, their laugh, even their smiles were the same.

After the patrol, Adrien detransformed in an alleyway.

“I can’t believe it, Plagg,” he said as the kwami appeared in front of him. “The two most amazing girls I know are the same girl!” Plagg gulped.

“Are you entirely sure that Marigold and Marinette are the same people?” Adrien grinned.

“Well, you just confirmed it! I never said either of their names before you did!”

“Son of a fish.”

“But this is so amazing! I mean, I was holding back because I didn’t want to endanger Marinette and I was quickly falling for my superhero partner. Not to mention being Scarlet Lady’s ‘partner’ is exhausting and time-consuming so I wouldn’t be able to devote my time properly to either of them anyway. But now, I know they’re the same girl AND Marinette can protect herself just fine AND she’s freed me from the burden of having to work with Scarlet. That’s... the biggest three-way win I can think of.”

Plagg couldn’t help but let a little smile slip through. His kitten was just so happy. And he had to admit, he really couldn’t do much better than Marinette/Marigold. Even before she got the bee miraculous, she was a hero. Plagg shook off the warm and fuzzy feelings.

“Alright kid. I get it. Love and happiness and whatnot. Can we go home now? I need some cheese.” Adrien smiled.

“Plagg, never change.”

“Never will.”

Adrien walked out of the alleyway, not noticing his yellow-clad superheroine partner, frozen on the roof with shock. She didn’t hear what he was saying to his kwami, but she had just seen him detransform.

“What?” Marigold murmured, her eyes wide.

———————

Later, Marinette flopped onto her bed and screamed into a pillow. Pollen buzzed worriedly above her. “Marinette, are you alright?”

“No! I’m not alright! Everything is just so frickin perfect!” Marinette exclaimed. Pollen frowned, confused.

“Wait, is everything not alright or is everything perfect? Humans can be so confusing.” Pollen muttered. Marinette took a deep breath.

“It’s just... Adrien is Cat Noir. The two kindest and most amazing guys I know are the same guy! I mean, I was holding myself back because I was torn between them and they were both equally stressed and overworked. Now, I know they’re the same guy AND I know WHY he was stressed AND I can lessen his burden. It’s like... the biggest three way win I can think of.”

Pollen smiled at her holder, then frowned at her sad expression.

“But then... why are you so upset?” Marinette sat up and hugged a pillow to her chest.

“Well, because I’ve been denying my feeling for both of these guys for who knows how long. Just because I’ve found out my feelings for him doesn’t mean that he has them for me. And I don’t want to ruin the amazing friendship I already have because of my feelings.” Pollen smiled and buzzed next to her.

“I think you should tell him. If he does reject your feelings, that’s okay. Just keep on being friends with him. It sounds like you two have an amazing relationship, anyway. Just because he doesn’t share the same romantic feelings back doesn’t mean you should stop being friends.” Marinette smiled.

“Thanks, Pollen. That makes me feel better.”

“Anytime, Marinette.”

(A/n: monologues come from this post)

———————

Adrien blushed.

“W-what?”

“I-I’m in love with you, Adrien. And I’ve been denying it for years and I literally just found out last week and now I have no idea what to do and now I’m rambling and-”

“-I’m in love with you too.” Adrien interrupted. Marinette’s eyes widened.

“Really?” Adrien nodded and took her hand.

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other and leaned in slightly...

“And then what happened?!” Alya exclaimed. Marinette grinned.

“You want to go get some lunch? I’m starving.” she said, walking ahead in the direction of the bakery. Alya gasped.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, don’t you dare walk away from me! I must know what happened!” she shrieked, chasing her grinning friend. Eventually, she grabbed Marinette’s hand.

“C’mon, Marinette! What happened?!” Marinette smiled and looked up at the sky longingly.

“Well, then he kissed me.” she murmured, her cheeks coloring slightly as she remembered. Alya couldn’t help herself. She let out a squeal of excitement and hugged her best friend. “Alya...”

“I’m so happy! My two best friends are together and they’re in love and they’re going to be together forever!”

———————

“Dude! That’s amazing!” Nino exclaimed, clapping his best friend on the back.

“Yeah, I almost can’t believe it actually happened.” Adrien said, grinning shyly. Nino spun around and grabbed onto Adrien’s shoulders.

“Dude. Is it really that unbelievable? You two have had feelings for each other for a very long time and you are going to be together forever.” Adrien blushed.

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so. Trust me.”

———————

Marigold swung across Paris in the direction of the Eiffel Tower to meet Cat Noir. Three million thoughts ran through her head. Should I tell him I know who he is? Should I tell him who I am? Should I tell him we’re together in our civilian forms? What if he thinks I’m only with him because he’s Cat Noir? What if he doesn’t want to be with me when he finds out who I am? What if-

Marigold slammed into the side of the tower, interrupting her train of thought.

“Woah there, Goldie!” a familiar voice called. She turned to see Cat Noir with a concerned expression on his face. “Are you okay? That was a pretty hard hit.” Marigold nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.” She answered, landing on the cool metal beam next to her partner. “Is Scar going to show up?” Cat Noir shrugged.

“Probably not, but I don’t care.” Marigold chuckled.

“So, anyway, what’s been going on with you?” she asked noncholantly. Cat Noir hesitated, then blushed.

“Well, I have a girlfriend now.” he admitted, finally. “Honestly, I feel lucky she even likes me. She’s talented, kind, and determined... I fell in love instantly.” Marigold blinked in surprise.

“Did you really?” Cat Noir nodded.

“Of course. I would have been insane not to.” Marigold fought to hide her blush. This was Adrien, her boyfriend, talking about her. “Anyway, what about you?” Cat Noir asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Anything going on in your life?” Marigold hesitated. How much should she reveal?

“Well...” she began “I actually have a boyfriend now. I can’t belive how long it took for me to realize my feelings for him. He is handsome, kind, and helpful. Oh, and he’s also a huge dork. You should see how excited he gets whenever we watch Tangled together. He just...” Marigold sighed. “I love that dork so much, it’s not even funny.” Her partner sniffled beside her. “Cat Noir... are you crying?”

“What? No! I just... have something in my eye.” He coughed into his elbow. Marigold raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it go.

“Hey.” She raised a fist for him to bump. “No matter what, we’ll always have each other, right?” Cat Noir hesitated, then bumped her fist with a smile.

“Of course.” He said. “Always and forever.”

———————

“It’s heartbreak for all the girls in Paris as supermodel Adrien Agreste has a girlfriend, classmate Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette learned how to evade paparazzi pretty quickly. After all, her boyfriend was an expert.

———————

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, your relationship with my son is detrimental to the Gabriel Agreste brand. I demand that you stop seeing him at once.”

“What? But... I didn’t do anything.”

“If you refuse, I will remove Adrien from school and he will never see his friends again.”

Marinette gasped and dropped the tray of macarons she was holding.

“A-Adrien doesn’t deserve this!” she cried.

“Then make the right choice.”

Tears slid down Marinette’s face. Without warning, she turned on her heel and ran upstairs and into her room, locking the trapdoor behind her. She threw herself onto her bed and sobbed. The clouds darkened overhead, reflecting her mood. Pollen tried to comfort her, but there was nothing she could do.

A little while later, Marinette walked downstairs. Her hair was a mess, her face was blotchy, and her eyes were bloodshot. She didn’t say anything. She just grabbed an umbrella and walked out the door, ignoring her parents’ looks of concern.

———————

She promised herself that she wouldn’t cry, but she knew deep down that it was impossible. She hated doing it. She hated that she was making herself do this. She hated seeing his heart break in half as she forced the words out of her mouth. She hated that there was no other way.

The rain poured around her as she sat on the steps of the Metro and sobbed, hiding under her umbrella. She was sure he hated her now. What kind of girlfriend breaks up with her partner with no explanation? What kind of person just ends it like that?

A familiar voice jarred her from her thoughts.

“Marinette! Move!”

“A-Adrien?”

She turned to see Adrien running towards her, an unnaturally determined look on his face.

“Plagg, claws out!”

Marinette watched in shock as Cat Noir summoned his cataclysm and closed his hand over the purple butterfly that was inches from her face.

“Adrien!” She gasped. He smiled sadly at her.

“You were about to be akumatized, I didn’t have a choice, My Flower.”

Marinette stood there in shock. Then, with tears in her eyes, she dropped her umbrella and hugged her partner.

“Everything will be okay. I promise.” He whispered, sadness in his voice as he wrapped his arms around her.

They sat there for a long time. Cat Noir’s transformation faded out, but they kept holding onto each other as the rain poured around them.

“So... you knew?” she murmured. Adrien nodded.

“So did you.” he replied. Marinette bit her lip and hugged him tighter.

“I’m so sorry, I should have told you...” she sniffled, her tears leaking onto his shirt.

“Shhh... it’s okay. Everything will be fine, Marinette.”

“No, no... don’t say that, it’s only going to get worse from here...” she whispered.

“How?”

“W-what?”

“How is it going to get worse?” Marinette chewed her lip and and disentangled herself from his embrace. He let her, but still held onto her hand. “Marinette, please...”

“I-I can’t.” she said, finally, her voice shakey. Marinette let her hand slip out from his and she walked down the steps and into the Metro as Adrien watched, tears streaming down his face.

She didn’t even pick up her umbrella.

———————

(A/n okay, wow! I actually wrote this... okay. I have a second part in the works, but I don’t know if it’ll be finished anytime soon. So... thanks for reading and let me know if you have feedback!)

———————

(Edit: Part 2 is done! Read it here)

#this is the longest fanfic i've ever written #i had to take some creative liberties lol #mainly because canon DIDNT GIVE ME MANY SCENES TO WORK WITH #i love cat blanc but it really should have been a 2 parter #just sayin #i added more scenes because i want you to feel PAIN #also big thanks to my friend minimalist-dreamer for helping me!#check out their blog if you haven't already #chat blanc #cat blank #chat blank #cat blanc #scarlet lady au #sl au #marigold au

93 notes · View notes