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asstrolo · 3 years

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a lil tarot love reading for the signs on this V-Day

very little, almost minuscule; this is not necessary romantic and it focuses on the energy that Valentine’s Day lefts on the signs for the next few weeks

check sun/moon/rising/VENUS, i also recommend stellium and dominant signs!

aries: if you’ve been dealing with past emotions for a while maybe this Valentine’s Day made you want or forced you to move on, or you’ve been trying hard to do so, the journey is long and never linear, but this could have been blocking NEW things, so work hard on the present these next weeks, i see the most important thing here is the money and a new-found independency that’ll be so good for you, you’ve been blocking your own blessing for something that is past, so now remember that what’s past is past, the future, even the prersent m,oment looks promising, cause good things will come if you put your focus in the present time, or even in the future

taurus: have you been feeling emotionally drained or restricted? your feelings are all over the place, in the past maybe someone betrayed your trust or you gave a manipulative person too much control over your life, now you feel super drained and tired, don’t feel like arguing or fighting anymore, if this is about a person then you’re done or too tired to deal with them and the repercussions, don’t worry, this was maybe a good decision and you’re going to focus on more IMPORTANT things, maybe self-love or doing things that de-stress you and give you joy, that’s very needed, take care of yourself mentally, physically and ✨ aesthetically ✨

gemini: there’s something here you wanted to happen so bad, maybe related to a person and you had very high expectations on this situation, almost too high, unrealistic, the situation was not met how you wanted it to, maybe you were too impulsive on your decisions, or trusting someone, you might have been lied to and this is why things didn’t went how you expected them to, but, if the truth hasn’t come out yet, it will very soon in this mercury rx, you are about to be shocked, if it already happened it was super quick almost unexpectedly, don’t beat yourself up for trusting this person, it’s ok, the truth about something is about to come out for everyone to know, they might get what they deserve

cancer: okay there was, or still is a situation that has you very dependent on something, you can’t be free, you feel very emotionally tied to a result or to a person and this has made you to lose countless days thinking of them and the outcome of something, while you still want to do your work and act like nothing happened, you can’t, you’re trying to juggle and balance a lot of things right now and it’s not good for your mental health, you feel defeated and like you lost something very important to you, don’t go around pretending you didn’t, if you wanna get over this then you have to acknowledge it

leo: if you’ve been hurting or in a bad emotional state right now, you’re using drugs, alcohol, food, sex, etc, to make you feel better and you know this, you know you’re just distracting yourself from thinking of something, if you know this, you ALSO know that it’s not working, maybe for a little bit, but you always come back tot he same mindset, don’t worry tho, if you’re aware of your bad habits and addictions then you know that you must change them, somebody hurted you really badly in the past or very recently, and you just can’t forget about them or the feeling and the pain, it’s time to see the bigger picture, have more self-love, look inward to why you do what you do and how it affects your mental health and emotional health, so many good things will come if you do the job!

virgo: for you there might have been an abrupt change that did a very significant change on you and your surroundings, it could be this overwhelming transformation or you’re just not welcoming this change, change it’s necessary guys! you must let things go with the flow and don’t try to control everything, there’s a chance for unity and communication here, if you have a person then you MUST let these fears go, you can’t control what’s gonna happen, take a risk, i know you wanna take care of your emotions and not getting hurted, but this looks good, even your friends might be supporting this new relationship or the person you like is a really close friend, that’s why you’re so scared things might not work out, but why fear something that hasn’t happened? enjoy the present moment

libra: there’s a situation here for a few of you, maybe you left someone else in the cold or they left you, maybe you’re going to apologize to someone or this person is coming with an apology of how things ended, but, if this last one’s the case, by the time this person comes you’ll be over it! the apology will not be needed, you have founded inner peace and moving on from this to a more positive place, it’s your choice to accept or not said apology, you’ll have new-found strength after this, since in the past you felt very stagnant and like there was no moving forward, like you were stuck in this thought and this situation most of the time, please don’t lose hope if this is the case! you’ll rely more on yourself now than in other’s so you’ll be more confident

scorpio: this is a complicated situation you are, o were in, there’s something you did out of impulse that now, thinking of it, you regret it greatly, maybe you got mad and said things you didn’t meant to, now you can’t rest because of this, you have all that’s necessary to fix or move on from this situation yet you’re lacking better judgement or other point of view, there’s something bad that’s gonna happen if you don’t sit down and talk this out, or reflect on the past, don’t get anxious, don’t blame yourself for everything, be rational, look for a second opinion if needed, you need to rethink your steps before moving forward, if you do this, the hard work you’ve been doing to keep this connection or to keep your mental health..., well, healthy, will not be in vain, look inwards, don’t criticize yourself so much, after all you’re just human

sagittarius: this one is a lot, if you’ve been pursuing a goal it probably did not come to fruition, it’s most likely you gave away all your time and energy into something that didn’t gave you anything in return so you were left tired and with no accomplishments, this can be because you’ve been working too hard and haven’t been taking care of your mental health, it’s at risk of becoming your main problem, if it isn’t already, there’s a lot of self-doubt and self-hate even, if something did not turned out how you wanted it to, beating yourself for it it’s not gonna help anyone, not you, not your future projects, you need a BREAK, you need to breath and stop trying to do everything all at once, especially if you have depression please rest, you’re too stressed right now

capricorn: you’ve been pursuing something that, at first, seemed to give good results and motivated you to keep going, but maybe you were using this thing to distract yourself from something else? sooner than later something or a connection with someone started to go south, maybe even unexpectedly because you are going through something you haven’t told anybody or you haven’t told your person about it and this makes the relationship feels stuck or weird, you’re going through a transformation, a test, a change, and you don’t want to see that this person or situation are changing you whole, accept that change it’s good, you’ve been lacking a lot of self-confidence and you might even think they don’t want you the same way you do, but this is why communication is important! don’t let your fears rule over you, you’re worthy of love, talk to them, a surpise might occur

aquarius: you’ve been too stuck in your own ways, your way is the only right one, you’ve been kinda selfish and even unreliable in work, friendships or in a relationship, maybe this is a way of protecting yourself from hurting, but it feels very defensive, you’re not telling the truth about your feelings or your situation, trying to act tough can only work for so long, if you have something to say or feelings you wanna talk about do it, don’t get mad and act indifferent, it won’t help you at all, if there’s a person or a situation in work/self, you don’t know what to do, all the decisions look bad, but you have to choose either way, to stay or to go, to talk or to be silent, but choose one, this maybe has more to do with a person and a relationship, but it can also be with yourself, happiness and celebration will come if you TRULY talk about what’s on your mind to them, don’t be scared!

pisces: okay, there’s a situation that made you back down and retire from socializing for awhile, there was something you were fighting for, but as of now, honestly? you kind of left it there, maybe you’re looking for a more peaceful solution or approach, or you’re not doing anything about it at all, like you stopped fighting for that thing and you’ve been trying to focus on other things, maybe this situation will solve itself out, or it was the one that is making you feel so small right now, like it took away a lot of your confidence, but you’re on your way to taking that back, being alone seems like the only way of healing from this situation right now, good for you! if a situation was making you feel bad or like you needed to fight to be with that person, then it wasn’t worth it

ROLES CAN BE REVERSED. Take what resonates and if it doesn’t don’t come @ me please.

REBLOG SO IT GETS TO MORE PEOPLE PLSS!!!

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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Of beasts and men [Hybrid 2p! America x reader]

Synopsis: And to think that godforsaken animal rescue center was to blame. You were supposed to find a dog to adopt, not a creepy furry who showed up naked at your door! Turns out, his shapeshifting abilities got him in some hot water with the police. And the rescue center owner. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Wordcount: 3, 290 The reader is referred to as she/her.

“You’re fired!” A gruff voice screamed outside a diner a few blocks down. “And don't come crawling back to me when you need my help! Not again!”

The shouts caused his ears to prick up, so he turned his head to the sound and flipped the man off. Though one had to wonder if he was a man. Yes, he stood on two legs, but he was covered head to toe with shaggy brown fur, and he had the head of a bull.

“No, I quit! Nobody fires me. Your loss, baby!” He yelled, baring his canines in a wide smile. When the other fumed in response, a jet of steam shot through his nostrils to blow his gold nose ring forward. Then, they stomped their foot and kicked the dirt below. He froze. “Oh shit.”

“I'll skewer you like a kebab!” They roared, rearing their head back before lunging forward to start charging at him. A single glance of those sharp horns was enough to send him running. So he fled, dashing through the narrow marketplace while gritting his teeth. Pushing past members of the public, he never stopped knocking over random objects in his way.

Crates, baskets, and fruit stalls in his path were bulldozed, alerting nearby swordsmen in blue jackets.

“Hey, you there! Stop running!”

He could hear their paws and hooves hot on his tail, so he lowered himself onto all fours and morphed. Sprinting all the way to the edge of the city, he disappeared into an alleyway. His life was a culmination of terrible decisions, but this probably took the cake. He knew exactly where this system of alleys led to, but he never slowed down to look back.

There was nothing left for him in the beast kingdom.

Dashing out of the enclosure of walls, he rammed into a dumpster and fell to the ground with a heavy thump. “Ah, shit...” He rolled onto his back and outstretched a paw to stare at it. “Maybe it isn't too late to be adopted. Ha!” The thought made him laugh, but it came out as a high-pitched wheeze. “Who am I kidding? I'm not a damn pet.”

“Hey, is that a red Doberman?”

He widened his eyes and sprung up on all fours. Pricking his ears to the two men standing at the street outside, he shook his head in regret. Like a deer caught in the headlights, they shined their torch on him and lit up his black irises with fear.

“Wow, you're right! Look at its fur! It's got a beautiful rusted color to it!”

“I can't believe it's a stray. We should take it back to the rescue center.”

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a small cell. A metal gate slammed shut and locked him in. A few minutes later, he was still processing everything that had happened. He just got caught by a bunch of humans. “Did I jinx myself?” Jumping up and scrambling to the gate, he pressed his snout against the wires and held it with his paws--a rather human-like action and odd sight.

“Let me out, let me out dammit!” He yelled, pulling the wires back and forth to make it rattle. “This is a beast rights violation! I demand a lawyer!” What should have been coherent sentences left his mouth as a string of violent barks.

An attendant entered the hall and smashed a baton against a pole. “Oi, settle down! Keep that up and nobody will want you!”

The dog pulled away and fell onto his behind. Then, it let out a defeated scoff. “Nobody would want me anyways. Just do yourself a favor and let me rot on the streets.”

Upon hearing those soft whines, the attendant lowered his arm and walked off. “Atta’boy. Now go take a nap or something.”

And nap he did, having given up on escaping--for now. Laying his head on the cold, hard ground, he fluttered his tired eyes to a close. The next morning when he came to, his nose twitched to an unfamiliar scent. It radiated in waves from the fingers on the other side of the gate. Human fingers.

When he glanced up, someone was crouching in front of him and holding out their hand. “What about this one, Jerry? Is he up for adoption?” They asked with a small smile decorating their lips. Sitting up excitedly at that, he wagged his tail. Anything to get out of here. I'll figure out where to go later. “Aw, I think he understands me!”

“Hm, I suppose he is. But he's got a nasty temper, that one. You might wanna rethink your choice.”

He watched the hope fade from their eyes. “Oh, seriously? That's too bad...” Then, they stood up with a sigh. His tail swished to a stop and slumped. That attendant was right in the end, after all.

“And I thought I could get scary dog privileges. Maybe I should stick with smaller sizes...”

The pair made their way down the hall to look at the other species the center housed, much to his disappointment. “Cheer up! We've got tonnes of other big dogs for you to consider. Not all of them will be fussy living in small spaces. You said you lived alone, didn't you?” His ears perked up at that.

“So long as you take them out on walks, they'll be fine.”

“Maybe. But I might have to go home and take some measurements. These dogs were a little bigger than I expected.” Soft laughs echoed, followed by a door creaking open.

“Totally understandable. You come back another day, eh?”

The door clicked shut, leaving him to his own devices. A single thought occurred to him, and it repeated in his head over and over until it drove him mad. He needed to get out of here. Before some other human set their eyes on him. But how? That question was promptly answered when a chill ran down his spine.

His fur shivered and puffed up as he slowly grew in size.

“Oh crap, I'm out of juice!” As his limbs began to stretch, so did his paws. Soon, they began to resemble fingers, and his panic reached an all-time-high when he realized he was standing on two feet again. That wouldn't have been a problem if he wasn't where he was.

He was stranded in the human world in his beast form.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Looking down to the spot between his legs, he gawked at another unwelcome discovery. Not only was he locked in a tiny cell, but he was also buck naked! It was only a matter of time before the attendant returned and found him like this. Regardless of his appearance, he was more than certain this warranted the police getting involved.

He already screwed up enough as it was. He definitely couldn't afford to get in trouble with the law in the human world too.

So he resorted to escaping by force. Taking a few steps back, he rammed into the lock. After a few attempts, he smashed through the gate and skidded to a stop. Without a shred of hesitation, he whipped his head to the door and charged right through it. Bursting into the front office, the receptionist screamed at his sudden arrival.

Then, they screamed even louder when they processed just what they were seeing. A humanoid dog.

The sheer volume of their shrieks made his ears tremble. “Oh my god, would you shut up already? I have good hearing, you know?”

Upon hearing him speak--a surefire sign he was indeed human--they reached for the phone beside them. Then, they talked frantically into the speaker, mentioning something along the lines of a naked creep in a fursuit. Now, he had no idea what that strange device was, but he was pretty sure they were alerting the authorities.

“Uh oh.”

For the second day in a row, he was chased by cops through a public sphere. That was one thing that didn't change, even if his setting certainly did. Towering buildings and skyscrapers loomed over him from all directions. Strange lights, posters, and moving pictures bombarded him with seizure-inducing colors.

Even then, he had no chance to take it all in when he was too busy fleeing. “Gah, get out of the way, get out of the way!” He barked.

Shoving through the people crowding the edges of the wide street, he stumbled right in front of a heavy-duty truck barreling at him at thirty miles an hour. He had been so determined to get away from the hoard of humans, he never realized where he wound up.

Before he could be sent flying, he gritted his teeth and jumped out of the way while it swerved into a telephone pole.

Briefly turning back to process the damage he'd done, shock filled him to the brim as he processed the scene of devastation that unfolded before him. But he couldn't linger on it for too long.

“That's the guy! Get him!”

He had to get out of here. But where was he supposed to go?

His nose twitched to a familiar scent. It was the person from this morning! And if he wasn't wrong, he recalled that they lived alone. So he followed the smell, finding himself standing outside of an apartment complex of some kind.

Setting down your things after that short and unproductive trip, you flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. Police sirens wailed in the distance, but you paid them no mind. Whoever they were chasing, the fugitive was sure to be caught soon enough. Little did you know, you were about to become their accomplice.

A few crisp knocks sounded on the other side of your front door. Without tearing your gaze from the screen, you slid on your slippers. “Coming!” You called. Slowly making your way to answer it, whoever it was that decided to bother you on this fine Sunday morning, you peeked through the peephole to see a pair of tall red ears. Dog ears.

“Huh?” Unlocking the door and creaking it open, albeit only slightly, you poked your head out in confusion. Standing there in all his glory, or its glory, was an anthropomorphic Doberman. If it weren't for these circumstances you met them under, you would have noticed they were a spitting image to the red Doberman in the rescue center. Instead, you were more compelled to fixate on other details.

When he realized where you were staring, he covered himself and grinned sheepishly.

“Uh... Happy birthday?”

The color drained from your face until you were paler than a sheet of paper. Then, you screamed.

He reflected a similar panic, and before you could shut the door in his face, he lunged forward into the frame and pried it open. “Wait, just hear me out! I'm in a bit of a tight spot here!” Given his physical advantages, he triumphed rather easily and forced himself into your home. All you could do was watch, but that didn't mean you couldn't keep screaming.

Rearing his head back as he covered his trembling ears, he shot his arms around you and clamped a hand over your mouth. “Stop screaming for God's sake! I've had it enough with the screaming today!” When you felt his fur against your lips, you only struggled and thrashed harder out of fear.

Regardless of his strength and stature, he couldn't do this all day.

So he tried morphing again. Rather than changing into the dog you saw earlier in the morning, he assumed a form closer to yours. His rusted red fur disappeared along with his tail. The long snout that pressed against your face shortened, and eventually, the arms that held you hostage were human. Or at least, they gave off that impression with his tanned, hairless skin.

You could argue that his transformation made the situation a little less bizarre. A little more manageable. So yes, you stopped moving. Now that you weren't resisting, he assumed you calmed down enough for him to let you go. What a big mistake that was.

The second you were freed, you punched him square in the jaw.

“Gh-!” An explosion of pain spread through his cheek. Turning back to you with teary eyes, he gripped the spot you took the liberty to abuse. “What the hell was that for?!” He spluttered.

“For being naked, you idiot!” You fumed through a blush.

“I thought we already moved past that!”

“We'll move past it once you put some clothes on!”

A little less bizarre? Who were you kidding? His sudden change in appearance only signaled to you he wasn't just your typical creep in a fursuit. As you mulled over the thought, a grim expression contorted at your features. Was this karma for changing your mind about that Doberman? A supernatural reckoning you so deserved for walking away? Needless to say, it was something worth discussing over some food.

“Thanks for the sweatpants, by the way! I'll return it to you later.” Kicking back in a chair, he started snacking on what he found in your pantry.

You avoided his gaze. He stood at least five inches taller than you, and he was certainly bigger than you were. And in more ways than one. “... You can keep it.”

Watching a dog munch on chocolate was not the most comfortable thing to see, either. The same could be said for his hands that picked through a candy box. “Wow, these are great! We don't have stuff like this back where I live.” He mused, throwing another chocolate-covered almond into his mouth. You tensed up.

“Wait, are you saying you've never had chocolate before?” Leaning forward and slamming your hands down on the dining table, you darted your eyes over his unreadable expression for any signs of discomfort. “I can't believe I let you eat it! Just because you can talk and everything!”

“Wha'dya mean I can talk? Of course I can talk!”

Maybe letting him rummage through your pantry was a bad idea.

He licked around his snout and huffed. “Anyway, sure I've eaten it before. Just nothing this good. What did you guys do to this, huh?” You breathed out a sigh of relief at that and sat back down. So you didn't accidentally poison your guest. Some guest he was, though. His name was strangely more down-to-earth than his otherworldly origins.

“Well, it's processed.”

“Processed, huh? I have no idea what that means.” He turned the box over and squinted at the label. “Huh? What language is this?”

“Japanese.”

His brows knitted together and he looked deep in thought. “Hm. I don't know what that is either.”

You laughed under your breath. “Duh. From what you've told me, it wouldn't be wrong to say you were born yesterday.”

“Oi, I'll have you know I was born at least a year ago!”

Allen, the runaway beast, had left his homeworld for the human one. Though chased out was the more accurate way to put it. There was nothing left for him back there, and his only hope of starting over was to take refuge in a foreign land. Perhaps not forever, but at least until he figured out where to go from here. That was what he had in mind.

“I'm not too concerned about you learning anything new. You'll be leaving soon, so.” Standing up with a content smile, you made your way to his side and patted him on the shoulder. The action prompted him to glance up at you with a full mouth. What you said next, however, would make him spit everything out. “You can't stay the night, Allen.”

He spewed almond bits all over the table, much to your disgust. “Wait, what?! I thought you were gonna let me stay! And not even just for a night, maybe for a week or two!”

You gawked in disbelief. “Are you crazy?! I'm not taking you in just because of your sob story. I'm not made of money, you know!” But that wasn't quite it, either. You were prepared to raise a dog, a big one at that, for protection purposes. The problem wasn't money.

The problem was that he wasn't human.

His ears drooped and he shot you his best puppy dog eyes he could muster. But you stayed strong. It was what he later added that jabbed at your strong resolve. “Aw, come on. Weren't you planning to adopt a dog like me? What's the difference?” Allen pouted. The sound of him reiterating exactly what was on your mind made you freeze up.

“It'll be the same as having a pet, I swear! Maybe even better--I know how to use a toilet!”

“Of course you know how to use a toilet!” You interjected, pulling away shortly to let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. “You're not a pet, Allen. You're a person, well, a dog person. You're not helpless without an owner! And what if somebody hunts me down and for keeping you here?” As much of a point you had, he didn't stop there.

Everything in his life boiled down to this moment. If he couldn't convince you to let him stay, there was no saying where he would end up. So he would do everything in his power to give you that one last push.

Standing up from his chair, he morphed into a human. Or tried with what was left of his energy. While his red ears and tail remained, there was nothing else reminiscent of the beast he was. “If you're worried about what I am, then I'll stay like this. Without the ears and tail, I mean.” His furry appendage swished at that.

“And I'll help you with house chores. I'm more capable than I look, I promise!”

You furrowed your brows and sighed for what felt like the tenth time that day. You couldn't believe it, but he was steadily chipping away at your resolve. So you turned away. “Mm, I don't know. This is a lot to ask from someone, especially if you aren't helping with the bills.”

Allen lit up, sensing your change of heart. So he jumped in front of you. “I'll do anything to make up for it!” He grinned, his energetic outburst catching you off-guard. There was something about his body language and attitude that perfectly embodied a loyal dog eager to please its owner. It was probably because of that tail of his that wagged with great gusto.

Among other things, you supposed.

“I'll be everything you need! A pet, a bodyguard, househusband, whatever you like!” Your attention was piqued at the mention of bodyguard. But when you processed the rest of his sentence, you lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Who said I needed a househusband?” You frowned.

Allen blinked. “Was that too much?” He grinned toothily. “Then how about a live-in boyfriend?”

With every shred of your willpower, you held back the urge to punch him. You already bruised him enough for today. “If you want me to consider taking you in, make me something for lunch! If it's acceptable, I might let you stay.” Shoving him into the kitchen at that, you pulled your apron off its hook and tossed it his way. “And do the dishes, too!”

“Alright, alright, jeez! Have some faith in me, won't you? I used to work in a diner, ya know?” The man swatted you gently with his tail. But you only pulled it much to his surprise.

“Used to. You probably got fired.”

Allen ignored that comment. “Watch where you touch, babe. You're moving a little too fast, even for me--Ow!”

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #axis powers ヘタリア #hetalia world series #2p!americaxreader #2p america #2p america x reader #x reader #beast #boy and the beast #bakemono no ko #hybrid #inu #allen jones #fantasy

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

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Lesson Learned

summary: Pinning exercises are a lot easier when you ask nicely.

a/n: The backstory to this piece was that I went to the church part of our discord server and told people about me being thirsty about Slade and they collectively went: DO HIM. The reader does have a backstory which boils down to rich girl from a crime family is a little shit because I thought this would have a funny dynamic with Slade. Special thanks to @batarella and @knightfall05x for proof reading and giving me ideas. Would this count as my one entry for kinktober?

warnings: This is straight up smut. Please read responsibly. Brat taming, strength kink, daddy kink, orgasm denial, and hinted size kink. (Hilariously half of these were by complete accident.) There is some injury mentioned but not too graphically. Both characters are assholes.

masterlist

Slade was on the ground, his head was swimming even as the sharp shriek of sirens rang loud in his ears. His senses were at once too sharp and too unfocused. Whatever drug he'd been hit with had to have targeted the nerves in his muscles too. He couldn't move. Not substantially anyway. Not in a way that would actually help him. Through the haze he hears the clicking of heels against the floor, then a sharp pain shoots through him when said heel dug into one of his still closing bullet wounds.

You stood above him, your shark's smile hidden behind your mask. "Well old man, I didn't think you would be caught this easy. I might need to rethink this meeting." You hummed tapping your chin as you lean down your heel digging further into his flesh. It's a tactic your sister had taught you. People were less inclined to think clearly when in excruciating pain. If Deathstroke was this easy to capture, was he really worth your money?

He was watching you, blue eyes looking defiant. You whistled low. You liked a hard negotiation. It kept things more interesting. The rapid footsteps of men drew you out of your contemplation much to your annoyance. You debated on just paying them to go away. It would make your life easier but there's a chance these men were truly loyal to the man you had just paid a visit to.

You weigh your options. His reputation may be enough to keep your siblings away. Maybe just long enough 'til their petty little war is over. "I'm going to hire you-"

"-this assumes I'm going to say yes"

You snorted. He noted the confident roll in your shoulders, the kind of cocky self-assured gesture of someone who knows they're going to win. Every movement, every angling of your form deliberately used to show a difference in power and lack of respect. In short, it made you very punchable.

"Your statement assumes you have a choice." You chuckled tilting your head to the side in challenge. He scowled at you and you try to keep the sheer delight you feel out of your body language. You weren't sadistic by any means but for one, brutality was practically bred into you, and two, you are, what your darling eldest brother had so kindly put, a little bitch. "I'll tell you why you'll say yes to my proposal." You said stepping off of him and pirouetting towards your duffle bag. "One, I'm offering your more than a million dollars in cash for the simple job of training me-" You observed his face as it remains carefully impassive. You expected as much. You heft your bag into your arms and unzip it rummaging through the cache of weapons you had stored just in case plan A through F failed you. "Unless we're associated, I'm the only one walking out of here with any money for their troubles." You said tossing the severed head of his target in front of him. You gave him an all too pleased grin.

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You find yourself pinned down again in the span of 15 minutes, face squished against the training mat, your arms pinned behind you, and most annoyingly your ass raised while your bastard of an instructor laughs in your ear, his lips dangerously close to your ear. You hiss and bristle feeling the fibers in your muscles burn from the uncomfortable angle they've been forced into. You squirm trying to buck him off but his strength rendered your efforts moot. His enhanced strength keeps your body firmly between the sweat-covered mat and his large, toned body which just made you bite your lip to keep anything vulgar from escaping you.

You were 110% sure he was fucking with you at this point but any smart remark you had was either smothered by the mat or died whenever you felt acutely aware of your skin against his.

"Get off of me, old man," You snarl, making a futile attempt to kick him off with one of your legs. He chuckles at your weak attempts, the reverberations from his chest pressing against your back sending a thrum of excitement rolling over you concentrating into more distracting areas. You can't see it but you know he's grinning smugly above you and you can't decide whether it's your horniness or your anger that will win out. You sincerely hope it's the latter.

"C'mon, kid, you can get out of this," He encourages but you don't miss the playful mockery dancing in his tone. You squirm and wriggle and sigh. "Just let me out," You demand, politely. He doesn't budge. You turn your head to pout petulantly at him. That doesn't do anything either.

You sigh again. You hated pinning exercises with a carefully cultivated passion which you would normally direct at whatever instructor was dumb enough to force it upon you. However, that wasn't really possible as of this moment. One of the reasons for this hatred was that you were never pinned down unless you wanted to be, even then they were usually too hesitant to follow through so you never really saw any practical use for the skill. That is until last week when you found yourself being pinned down by the Red Hood which was honestly a fantastic position if you weren't trying to get away from him. Apparently, the large man didn't take too kindly to being shot at even when your very professional self explained that you were in fact a decoy. After you were entirely unable to slip his hold, you begrudgingly agreed to let Slade teach you a few maneuvers. The other reason was that you liked being pinned down. Your body is far too enthusiastic about the feeling of being pinned down. You're pretty sure you've expended more energy into suppressing your thrilled shivers than you have trying to get out of any of the holds he's demonstrated so far. The fact that he was an attractive asshole with no shirt did not help.

"Maybe if you ask nicely, princess" He drawls his teeth grazing your ear, beard bristling against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You bite back a groan and stop the cant of your hips. "Or are you even capable of that?"

"I am, sir" You grind out but it sounds too breathy to be threatening. You feel the curve of his lips against your shoulder.

"Dunno, brat, I've never seen you do it," He taunts pressing closer to you. You're suddenly aware of just how close you two are. You hate how the way he called you brat sent thrills up your spine. You try to even your breath but you're entirely too feverish both body and mind. You had to think of something before you were lost in a haze.

You nudge your arm one last time before an idea strikes. A familiar shark-like grin spreads like wildfire across your features. Pressing your ass against his crotch, you roll your hips, the movement slow and deliberate and painfully tempting. Sure, it was a dirty trick but 1) he never said anything about using your assets 2) you've been wanting to do that since the first hold. You feel his muscles tense and you can't help but radiate smugness. Your smile vanishes, however, when he rolls his hips against yours giving you a feel of his hardened length through the thin fabric of your gym shorts. The slow, tantalizing friction against your core draws out a vulgar moan from you.

"Do you wanna run that by me again, brat?" He whispers low and husky emphasizing the last word with another grind of his hip. You pant, hips answering back with their own desperate movement. You want to let your hips keep moving, to make him move, to feel his cock against your core but pride flared in your chest. "Make me." You bite out. "I really should teach you some manners."You feel the low rumble of his answer in response seemingly amused by your continued resistance. He rocks his hips against yours drawing out another breathy moan from you. Out of spite you bite your bottom lip and rock your hips in tandem with his. What did you hope to accomplish from this? You don't know but it certainly felt good. Your skin feels hot and oversensitive as your bodies continue to move at this rhythm. The feel of his muscles rippling against you makes you arch your back. You wanted more but you had too much pride. As if spurred on by the movement, he presses a kiss on your shoulder and sucks at your flesh, a rough hand grips your waist tight enough to bruise. "Slade!" You choke out losing your composure. The cry sounds more like a plea than you would like. You sound so small and needy beneath his ministrations.

Distilling your anger into your weakening limbs you try to buck him off again. You make a small noise of triumph when he budges but whine when his grip on you just gets tighter. "Not quite, princess,"

He flips you onto your back. A hand pins both your arms above your head as he situates himself between your legs. His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, the type where you feel two bodies fighting each other for dominance. His teeth bite lightly against your bottom lip asking for entrance. You open your lips less in concession and more of a challenge. The wet muscles of your tongues entangle. Your nose is filled with the musk of him. It was overwhelming. You moan into the kiss and you feel him smile into it. Another small victory.

Slade ends the kiss having undeniably won the match. You try to move your hand to punch the grin off his face but again your hands don't budge. You curse his enhanced strength halfheartedly as the feeling of the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach takes over. Instead of diving back in for another kiss as you expected, Slade trails kisses down your jawline, your throat, and your collar bone leaving very defined very visible hickeys. There was something oddly possessive in his actions. The look in his eye was predatory.

You, foolishly, let your attention wander to your hands seeing what angle you could possibly force them into so you can slip his grip and maybe turn the tables. Your attention snaps back to him when the pressure around your chest loosens and the distinct sound of a zipper fills your ears. Your eyes widen as you watch as he unzips the front of your sports bra with his teeth. Your breath catches even as your chest fills with the lack of constriction. Your too hot skin is grazed by the training room's cold air. He places a kiss in the valley between your breasts but when you whimper and move slightly urging him to proceed. He moves on to your stomach. "Asshat" You seethe through gritted teeth. You let out a groan of frustration. You were going to kill him. You honestly don't care if you've just wasted half a billion dollars on this asshole.

His kisses drift down to your inner thigh drawing a moan from you. Slade chuckles seeing your desire seeping through the thin fabric of your shorts. He isn't entirely surprised considering how unsubtle you are about your interest. A rare moment of embarrassment blankets you. Your legs try to close but rough hands pry them apart placing them on his broad shoulders. You bite your lip when he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. Your lips are puffy and red at this point, looking delicious as you panted. Slade wonders how your lips would feel around his cock but he decides he'll save that for another time. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and his eye widens momentarily when he doesn't feel a second layer of fabric underneath it. He looks at you incredulously.

You shrug trying to keep the mischief off your face looking absolutely unapologetic. "It's laundry day-" You shrug a little amused that this is the detail that caught him off guard. "-I did tell you I had stuff to do~"He also supposedly had stuff to do but, apparently, you were stuff. He chuckled and without dignifying your comment with an actual response, he rips your shorts off with ease and tosses them somewhere behind him. A complaint or a threat, you weren't entirely sure, died on your lips when his tongue gave your core a nice long lick. A loud, needy keen escapes you. Your hands now free from his grasp dig into his scalp. Pleased with your reaction he continues. His skilled tongue exploring your core hitting spots you didn't even know were there. Your hips meet to match his pace as he fucks you with his tongue. You whine when he withdraws his tongue but mewl loud and wanton when you feel two rough fingers stretching your insides. His mouth latches onto your sensitive bud, fingers pumping in and out. You throw your head back not being able to contain your moans.

"Look at me, brat," The command is deep and resonant. Your whole body buzzes with excitement. Slade can see your eyes dilate as his voice drops an octave.

"Yes," Your breath hitches when he doesn't move. "Sir" You add as a concession hoping it was enough. You felt your pride waning from the small piece of power being given away. Thankfully, he rewards you with another long lick before you can dwell on it. Slade watches as your face twists in pleasure trying your best not to throw your head back. You see the smugness on his face even when half of his face is buried between your legs. You don't attempt a threat simply because you don't trust whatever comes out of your mouth to be coherent. You were so close. You rock your hips trying to chase your high. Your skin is flush and glistening with sweat. You were so close. He feels your walls tightening around his fingers. Another needy keen escapes you as you were about to tip over the edge.

The motherfucker pulls back. You snarl at him but it comes out sounding more like a needy croon than anything else. He chuckles at you even as he captures your lips for another kiss. His tongue is thick with the taste of you. Your hand tangles itself into his hair while the other tugs at the waistband of his sweatpants. He pulls away giving your lips one last nip before his body is off of you. It's funny how just moments ago you wanted him off of you badly enough that you'd play any dirty trick you could think of but now your skin is burning for his touch. He takes off his sweat pants and his engorged cock slaps against his abs. It takes every brain cell at your disposal not to drool at the sight of it. He was BIG. You wonder briefly if he would even fit.

He spits on his cock rubbing his head against your thoroughly soaked folds. You mewl. A playful look in his eye does not go unnoticed but you were far too preoccupied with other concerns. Thankfully, so did he. Slade eases into your pussy in slow shallow thrusts. You can physically feel your walls stretching inch by inch as he works his way into your tight pussy. He can feel every bit of resistance your pussy is putting up. It's his turn to hiss when he finally bottoms out. Your walls cling to his member trying to milk it for all its worth. You drag your nails down from his shoulder to his arms. You pout when his skin heals immediately. You wanted to mark him as he did you but apparently, his healing factor was not up to being kinky today.

He laughs at your little protest and gives you a quick kiss. He begins to thrust shallow and languid. Your lips are locked in, sensually nibbling at each other's lips. You arch your back pressing your chest against his musculature savoring every bit of stimulation you could get. You cant your hips against his urging him to go faster. His large hand grips your hips and pins them down. The coil in your stomach grows tighter at the ease at which he stops you. You feel him grin against your hot skin.

"Didn't I say I would teach you some manners?" He pulls himself out leaving you feeling hollow and wanting. You're pretty sure if you weren't drunk on your arousal the look in your eyes would be nothing short of murder, however, this was not the case, Whatever venom you had in you vanished in a swirl of neediness that racked your body. Your cant your hips uselessly trying to find friction only to be met with cool air.

"Slade pleeeeaaase!"

You gasp, as a sharp stinging sensation on your pussy knocks the breath out of you. Slade gives you an expectant look.

"Sir, plea-"

Another slap. Your back arches. You’re panting heavy, mind swirling and searching.

"Daddy please!" The words tumble from your lips thoughtlessly. You both freeze. Slade's face is unreadable making you want to shrink away and let the earth swallow you whole. Panic rises in your chest until you feel his hips slam against yours. The force is enough to knock the breath out of you. He manhandles your body to fuck you at a better angle. His grip on your thighs tight and bruising. You whimper when he dips his head down near yours pressing kisses to your jaw and the pulsating flesh of your neck leaving your mouth free to moan his name like a mantra. A deep resonant growl rumbles in his chest sending thrills through your skin into your spine. Your hardened nipples drag against his chest as they bounce with his pace. His cock pumps in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You were absolutely going mad over his rough pace but it wasn't enough to push you over. You were both so close.

"Daddy, please! I- I need-" Slade's cock twitches. His pace goes from animalistic to punishing in the space of a heartbeat. He growls into your ear as he reaches down to rub your clit with skilled, calloused fingers. Your walls tighten around him as you go over the edge. Your orgasm hits you in a flurry of heat and electricity. He fucks you through it as he chases his own. He pulls out his cock. Ropes of cum covering your chest and your stomach.

He lays beside you pulling you close. You moan quietly still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting an open-mouthed kiss. You ease into his hold and close your eyes.

"See how easy your life is when you're a good girl, princess," He whispers mockingly into your ear. You raise a middle finger at him too fucked out to care whether it actually conveyed as much venom as you wanted it to.

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Thanks for reading! Next week will be our regularly scheduled fluff unless I get possessed by the thirst muses.

tag list: Tag list: @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-horizondepeu , @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @knightfall05x

#dc smut #slade wilson x reader #slade wilson imagine #my writing #reader is a little shit #this is what I use my brain cells for yes

177 notes · View notes

yandere-ac · 4 years

Note

I noticed in the recent update that there was a net to keep the MC from swimming too far *cough escaping cough*. It got me thinking about what if the MC- in guise of trying to find more creatures- finds an opening big enough for them to squeeze through and almost escapes. I'm not really sure which villager/character would fit best in this situation though.

Okay so like anon, not to be like that but I would dIE FOR YOU! THIS IDEA IS SO GOOD!!! YOUR MIND! ITS TO POWERFUL ANON! But yeah this was really fun to write and I choose my two favorite bitter ex boys both wanted the same poor representative. You guessed it, it’s out boys!

Yandere Tom Nook X Reader X Yandere Redd

Hole

Sneaking. You were sneaking. It was a beautiful summer day, kids were outside playing, some were out fishing or catching bugs. But where were you? You were sneaking like a teenager trying to get past their overprotective parents. You didn’t want to sneak but you had no choice. Ever since Redd first showed up on the island Tom had been more protective than ever. He didn’t want you to wander off without him, he wouldn’t let you go outside without his permission and sometimes he would want you to sleep in his house. You used to love Tom but nowadays he was just too overbearing for your comfort. You and Tom never really said out loud that you loved each other and you never did any couple-stuff. But both of you knew, you both were in love. Or, that’s how it used to be at least. Any and all feelings for Tom that you had gone right out the door once you lost control of your life.

“Y/N? Where are you going, dear?” Shit. He had found you, he had heard you. And now he was gonna stop you. “I-umm...I was just gonna go outside and search for some sea creatures for blathers” you said, trying and failing to mask the fear and worry in your voice. “Oh? Is that right...hmm...well do you need to do that? I mean, what if you drowned? What if you got attacked by a shark or octopus? Or worse! What if Redd showed up!? You remember what happened last time right? Do you want that to happen again?!” Tom asked you, you knew very much what had occurred between you and Redd, in fact just thinking of it sent shivers down your spine and formed a pit in your stomach. But at the same time, you didn’t want to stay with Tom, you’d be lying if you said that he didn’t scare you at times. Sometimes at night, you’d hear him mumbling things in his sleep, things that made every part of your brain scream to run away and never return, yet your body refused to listen. You worried about his well-being and especially now since he seemed almost obsessed with you. “Tom, listen...I haven’t been out of the house without you for some time now and I was just hoping to have some privacy. You know I’d never wander too far off” you grabbed one of his hands, taking your other hand to gently stroke his cheek. You felt him lean into your touch as he closed his eyes. These were the moments you missed, the tender, loving gestures that you and he would exchange. But now, these moments were just a way of getting you out of his intoxicatingly strong grasp. You didn’t want to stay with Tom, not in the slightest, that Tom whom you once loved died when he started limiting your freedom.

“Mmm...oh well...I guess if you know what you’re doing. Then sure, you can go out for a while yes, yes?” He said, this brought an actual smile to your face as you gave him a hug to which he giggled in reply. “Alright! I’ll see you later Tom!” “Be careful!”

And so, you were off. You ran straight to the shop to buy a wet suit, and then you ran straight to the water to do a cannonball. You laid in the water for about twenty minutes before rising up and swimming around. You didn’t bother trying to climb over the net, you knew it was useless as any major disturbance on the net sent a notification to Tom and inform him of your apparent escape. You learned that the hard way. So instead you just tried to relax for now. Later you might visit some of your residents and maybe go talk to sable, it has been a while since the two of you talked. But for now, you were trying to find sea creatures to give to Blathers. That was until you saw something that made your eyes squint before going completely wide once you realized what it was. It was a hole! A big hole in the net! Big enough for you to fit through without alerting Tom! You could escape! You could finally leave this hell!...but...what would happen to Tom if you left, you worried what he might do to himself or the others if you leave...no...you can’t think like that! The reason Tom is unwell is because of you. The only way he can heal is if you stayed away from him, if you didn’t, his obsession would only get worse.

You swim closer to the edge of the net and Closer to the hole. Looking at it you could indeed conclude that It was big enough for you to fit through. Hastily yet carefully you went through it. Making sure not to touch anything on the way out. If you did, it would be game over. Tom would see that something, you, were trying to get through and he would lose it. That’s what made you afraid. But you just couldn’t care right now, you were done sacrificing your life for other's happiness! It’s your time to be a little selfish. To look out for yourself! Carefully navigating your legs out of the hole your whole body was now out, you were out. You could barely believe it! But you wouldn’t stick around to see if Tom saw it or not. You had a plan. There was an island a bit away from yours, which would normally take about five minutes with a plane so it would maybe take about twenty minutes to swim. If you could hold out and keep out of dangerous water, you could make it. You would either make it or drown. Either way, there was no turning back now.

As you were swimming briskly, you started to rethink your decision a little. I mean, abandoning all your friends? And what would happen with Tom? Would he become unfit to take care of Timmy and Tommy? You didn’t want to consider that scenario, you wanted to believe that he would get help. But it was hard when you had experienced how deep his possession over you had gotten. After about halfway there you realized how far away the other island truly was, your arms got very tired and you had swallowed what felt like a ton of seawater accidentally as you had swum. You’re honestly starting to give up hope of reaching the island in time. You were gonna drown. You were gonna drown. You were never gonna see your friends again, never gonna find a significant other, never get married, settle down, get a pet fish with said significant other. Never gonna- Wait...is that a...boat? A little boat, sailing off in the distance caught your attention. Maybe there was still hope! Maybe there was a chance of survival! You had to do something, anything, you had to get its attention.

“HELLO!!! IM HERE!!! PLEASE HELP ME!!!” You shouted at the boat. And as if on cue, it turned around and went over to you. Yes! You had done it! You were gonna survive- Wait a minute...you recognized that boat...was that...oh god, it was! That was no other than Jolly Redd's boat. He was even worse than Tom! You had no time to think before the boat arrived in front of you. “Well well well...if it isn’t my favorite human! What are you doing all the way out here cousin?” He asked you, his voice full of glee, knowing you would need his help. “Get away from me Redd!” You said you didn’t want anything got to do with him. “Oh really? What was 'please help me' about then? I just wanna help Y/N, I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive about this. Now tell me, why are you all the way out here in the middle of the Ocean?” He asked you. Tilting his head while resting his chin above his hand, huge grin present on his face. “...ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʳʸᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵀᵒᵐ” “huh? A little louder cuz, I couldn’t hear ya?” “I WAS TRYING TO ESCAPE FROM TOM OKAY!!! HE PRETTY MUCH LOCKED ME INSIDE OF HIS HOUSE BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID!” Everything became deathly quiet as you said this. Out of all the answers, Redd had NOT expected that one. After quickly regaining his normal posture, he mustered up another smile on his lips. “Well, do ya need a ride, or would you like to swim for another forty minutes, hm?” Forty minutes? You had grossly underestimated the time that it would take for you to swim. “Get away from me Redd, I don’t want your help after what you did...” you told him, refusing to look at the smug bastard. “Oh Y/N. I don’t think you’ve comprehended this situation...you can either come with me or drown. Now I’d understand if you’d want to drown yourself, I would if I had to spend so much time with Nookie. But ask yourself, is this really the way you’d want to go out? By drowning? That’s lame!” He was right, god damn it! You hated that he was right. You were completely and utterly helpless right now and the only way to get out of this would be to accept his help.

You swallowed all of your pride and looked at him. He still had that shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Alright, you win. I’ll come up on the ship...but as soon as we get to the island, that’ll be all okay!” As you said this, Redd's grin only got wider. He walked away for a few seconds before throwing a ladder down on the side of his boat closest to you. You could practically feel his joy as you climbed up the ladder. Once you were up, Redd immediately came up to you. Holding his hands together as he looked at you like a giddy kid to open up their presents. “Ohohohooo~ trust me Y/N, you won’t regret this!” He giggled as his movements got more jittery, almost as if he’s restraining himself. “Yeah yeah, whatever Redd,” you told him sternly. You didn’t want to be in his presence for any longer than you had to. Stepping in front of you, the fox pulled the curtain to the entrance open for you. You let out a loud sigh as you saw his dumb gesture. “God, shut up Redd,” you said as you walked inside, you knew he was joking. But jokes were supposed to be funny. And you hated him. “Ah come on Y/N you know I’m just yanking your chain here! I know you can fend for yourself! I’m not like good old nookie-“ “stop!” “Stop what?” Redd looked at you in confusion. “Stop trying to make yourself look better by comparing yourself to Tom! You have no right considering you’re the reason he’s like that! I know what your doing Redd! I’m never gonna join you! So quit trying, let’s just get a move on” you said aggressively, only to be met by the deep chuckles of the fox behind you. Blocking the exit. “What are you laughing at!?” You fidgeted with your hands as you backed up slightly. But it was no use since Redd blocked your exit. “Oh, cousin...you haven’t seemed to have gotten what’s happening right now...I don’t CARE If you want to come with me! You’re coming with whether you like it or not! We’re not stopping at some island. You have nowhere else to go, besides into my arms! So why don’t you make this easy for the both of us and just comply would ya?” Oh...oh no...oh god! He was being serious! “Wha...i...”

As soon as he approached you, you bolted off onto the deck. You knew you couldn't get away but you would rather drown than let yourself become some toy to this maniac. But before you could jump off the boat, Redd ran up behind you and hastily scooped you up by your arms. You thrashed and struggled but it was no use. He was so much stronger than you. “Ah Ah ahhh~ you wouldn’t want to do any myths rational now, would you cousin?” He said in a teasing manner. It made you even more irritated than you were scared. And so, you elbowed him right in his face. He instinctively dropped you as you did this but he quickly grabbed your leg and threw you back onto the deck before Anything could happen. There you laid, on the floor with a rage full fox above you. He was still mumbling curse words under his breath as his face still hurt. But he didn’t care, he just grabbed you roughly by the hand as he dragged you inside. You were being pulled to the furniture part of his boat, all while trying to punch, scratch or halt Redd. But nothing worked. Soon it dawned on you where exactly he was taking you. He was taking you to the big iron door at the back of his boat. The one looming door that had a giant padlock on it. “I wanted to do this the easy way Y/N! Trust me, I did! But if you’re gonna act like this then I’ll simply have to do it the hard way!” He yelled as he threw you up against the wall. The impact made you fall down and lose part of your consciousness for a few seconds. While you were trying to regain yourself, Redd opened the padlock with a key. As he turned around he saw what you were trying to do, you were trying to crawl away. You were failing, of course, the meek attempt made him chortle as he now calmed down a little. “Oh Y/N...” he said softly as he picked you up, looking right into your eyes as he continued. “You can’t escape, and no one is coming for you. Better make yourself comfortable because the ride home is long” while he told you this, he walked in the room. It looked like a bedroom. In the middle of it was a mattress, did...did he plan to do this? How long had he planned to kidnap you!? He placed you on the bed and kissed you on your forehead. You tried to protest but only weak movements and a small groan came out. Redd walked to the door but just before he closed it he turned to you, eyes gentle and seemed very genuine. “Sleep well...”

That was a couple of hours ago. Redd was now steering the boat and was whistling to himself in glee. He got you, he finally got you! And he didn’t even have to do anything, you were just served to him on a silver platter. But before he could think of anything else he felt a powerful wave hit the entire ship. It sent him falling down to his knees. Some madman had crashed into them! Walking outside with violent steps Redd was getting ready to curse out whoever had driven into them. “HEY! WHAT'S WRONG WITH-“ he quickly shut up once he saw who was in the boat. In the boat that had driven into his side sat a very angry tanooki. It was Tom, as he looked at Redd the glare he gave sent shivers down Redd's spine. Let’s just say, if looks could kill, Redd would be dead where he stood.

“Redd! Where is Y/N!” Tom asked, well it was more of a demand. “How did...how did you find me” Redd was completely and utterly baffled. He was out in the middle of the ocean, yet Tom had managed to get to him. “Where is Y/N. I know they’re here so quit acting stupid and tell me where they are!” Tom was raising his voice more and more as he got madder and madder. Redd has taken everything from him once, he wasn’t gonna let him take it again. “No chance nookie! Don’t you think there’s a reason they’re out here? Maybe it’s because they hate you! Maybe it’s because they hate that you act like a restrictive psycho! Have you ever thought of that Tom! Huh? Huh?!” Redd was now leaning over the railing of his boat. He was almost face to face with his bitter rival. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP REDD! I HATE YOU! I-“ Tom grabbed ahold of Redd's shoulders and pulled him down, into the water. “HATE YOU!!!!”

You were peacefully sleeping as the now slightly wet tanooki walked up to your tranquil form. He kneeled down and stroked your cheek, as he smiled to himself. Poor Y/N. Such a sweet individual didn’t deserve to be touched by someone as sleazy and dishonest as Redd. Thus he picked you up and walked over to his motorboat. You were going home.

“Helloooo....wakey wakey...Y/N dear? Can you open your eyes?” You could hear a distant voice say but it was very blurry. Lifting your eyelids open felt like lifting iron weights, but as soon as you caught a glimpse of who was next to you your eyes went wide open with fear. “TOM!?” You threw your body away from him. Backing up until your back was up against the wall. “Ah your awake now, good...you’ve been sleeping for quite some time now. I’ll be honest, for a minute there I thought you were dead” he laughed a little to himself as he said this, a laugh which at one point you thought was adorable but now struck terror right into your chest. “Silly me...oh! Now that you’re awake, are the chains too tight? Do you want Me to loosen them for you?” He asked you. What? You had been so preoccupied with the fear that you hadn’t realized that you did indeed have chains and chuckles attached to your wrists. They were very long so you weren’t exactly chained up to the wall, but they were just short enough so you wouldn’t be able to move around too much. This is when you started hyperventilating. Why were you here? Where was Redd? How did Tom find you?!

“Oh! No no shhh, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here...Redd won’t ever get you...I made sure of that...” what the hell did he mean by that!? “H-how did you find me?” You asked him, voice quivering just like you were. “Oh Y/N, did you think that the net notifications were the only way for me to see if you escaped?” He said as he petted your head. He hadn’t been so certain whether it was necessary to implant that chip in you, he thought that he could trust you enough but it would seem that he really couldn’t. “By the way, thanks for bringing that up. I’m sure by now you’ve figured out your punishment for trying to leave me. Don’t think just because I’m happy I got you back that I’m not angry, that I’m not sad, that I’m not heartbroken that you would ever think to escape from me! I just want you to be safe and this is how you repay me!” His tone got a little angrier towards the end but he quickly gathered himself in front of you. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You hurt me Y/N...but I’m happy you’re alright...and your safety is the only thing that matters right now,” he said as he snuggled up to you. The tanooki was madly in love with you. He wanted you to be with him for the rest of his life. He had tried to do it with you being free. But it had seemed like he couldn’t trust you with that freedom. So, he would have to lock you in, cage you up, keep you with him. Whether you liked it or not. He was gonna be with you. By this point tears had started to well up in your eyes, your whimpers getting stronger once Tom started cooing you, stroking your hair.

“Don’t cry Y/N....I...I love you...”

He said it. He had said it. The three words that you had dreaded him saying. Up until now. You could have just pretended that Tom was just a very protective friend. But now...now? He had admitted to loving you. You couldn’t back out now. You couldn’t keep that level of comfort in that Tom wouldn’t do anything to engage a relationship, but now it was only a question of when he would actually start proposing ideas of dates and stuff. You were doomed. Doomed forever with this possessive, lovesick man. You couldn’t handle it.

You started sobbing. Tears that had threatened to spill started pouring out. The only thing you could do was bury your head in Toms's neck, closing your eyes and hoping this was all just a nightmare. That you would wake up and all of this would’ve just been a dream. But it wouldn’t, this was your life now. And you wished you would have just chosen to drown instead of joining Redd.

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deanirae · 4 years

Text

Can you get it inside your head I’m tired of dancing?

post 8.07 pre 8.08] crack/angst past turned unrequited deancas, implied deanbenny 2,4k [x]

The sun, also currently known as bitch, has got some serious nerve to sit where it always does, not upside down and nine miles to the left as it frankly should on this memorable fuckhat day. Where is the End of Days when it's really called for? When it should be really nigh?

Dean flips the front mirror panel down not to have to deal with at least that one disappointment. He can still see Cas's half-constipated, half-abandoned and kicked in its fluffy ass puppy face in the mercilessly annoying reflection. The obvious choice would be to not grace it with anything right now, but A – he's the one driving so his eyes can't wander off pretty far, especially in the barely sunlit grayness – and B – on his left, Sam is currently roleplaying a twelve year old girl that has her big emotional introspection accompanied by listening to Sarah McLahlan because her mean parents wouldn't let her buy ebola from the internet. Or something.

Point is, he's three hours into ostentatiously moping, trying to quietly terrorize Dean into making peace with Cas on the fly so it won't be awkward and problematique for him anymore. To Sam, Dean is just too inconvenient anytime he's inconvenient. And that, by order of nature herself, demands immediate and final stopping and ballot recounting also.

And Dean's point is, that it's not gonna happen anytime soon.

And Cas's point – assuming he’s still remotely capable of making those – seems to be dead-set on that 50:50 face thing. And Dean regrets briefly glancing; with more or less the same intensity he regrets his whole life on the crap weather days his bones hurt harder than it should be legal.

Sam, in his hemhorroidal disturbance, reaches out to the tape deck and attempts to put anything on, but Dean feels like exactly zero of his tapes right now, so he swats Sam's hand off with a loud smack. Judging from the faces he gets for that, it's gotta be resonating in their heads a lot.

It's gonna be a long ride to Lousiana, way longer and more exhausting than the freshly puked from Purgatory one. In fact, the closer they get to Lafayette, the more tired he is and they won't start working the vetalas case until tomorrow night because apparently hanging around clubs on fridays is the new hanging downside of trees or whatever cool thing it was vetalas were doing before the rise of the all you can eat buffet of horny dicks certain they're gonna get reverse cowgirls for a two dollar drink. Or reverse cowboys. Fucking cheapskates. Some of them do have it coming. But in severe STDs, not in this.

In itself, waiting for the actual hunt really doesn't need to be a problem. It's just that Sam and Cas are fucked-bent on having it be one because—

“I said I'm going to stay with you and join you on hunts,” Cas finally snaps. „There's no need for this 'backup' as you call it, Dean.”

—Because that.

“Don't air quote it, man,” Dean mutters wearily, because of course Cas air quoted it.

“And there is absolutely no need for you to sleep in a vampire's camping truck when we have plenty of motels to pick from,” Cas rants on, zero deterred and plus ten determined, clearly not tuning into Dean's I don't wanna discuss that vibe.

Annnd because that too, yeah.

“Well I donno, I sure didn't want us to look like some sort of a hookup site for salvation army fashionistas threesome. You'll thank me later. Or you can do it now and shut up when you're done, how's that.”

“A vampire,” Sam interrupts his polished bitchface just to whine it out, which has to be peak brotherly care by his modern standards.

“You two asshats had no problem leaving me in vamp-vegas for a goddamn year,” Dean growls. “I am an adult adult and I need some me-time that isn't you time. And I'm gonna have awesome time while I'm at it. Sue me if that's a crime. Bother my lawyer.”

“You don’t have a lawyer”, says Sam.

“Aren’t you kind of a lawyer?” Dean remembers suddenly. “Or at least close enough for you two to bother each other and not me?”

“No, didn’t get to get there yet, thanks to you,” Sam mutters, also suddenly remembering the past life of his that was never meant to be.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, Dean whines. “Did I set your girlfriend on fire?”

“Fuck off.”

“I thought you missed me,” as if triggered by the word fuck, Cas drops the bomb with an evenness in his voice which hints at many things but Dean's brain is too stop-record screech to dissect them right now.

“What?” he blurts out, confused and affronted both.

“I thought you missed me,” Cas repeats, lower and harder like Dean's a stupid cat that won't spit out what it's chewing.

“Cas, I really don't wanna do this.”

“You kept praying to me to come back, Dean. After you were out of Purgatory. I heard you. Those were quite some prayers. Now you're putting yourself in real danger just to stay away from me. I don’t understand.”

Sam just stares at Dean, the always most helpful thing on the planet that he is. Thanks, Sam. Dean stares at the road. Cas stares daggers through the back of Dean's head. Poor Baby can't just leave this situation so she just keeps on rollin’. Nobody wins that day.

“That was before you told me you were lying your ass off just to kick me out last minute. Your subscription for my prayers and personal Jesus license have now expired, by the way. Like, the fuck does talking to you even do?”

“Fine!” Castiel snaps, so close to throwing his hands in the air for a grand effect but luckily thinking better of it since he's in a car that has a roof among other things. “I understand that you're angry—” he tries to start over, calmer, after a self-collecting breath.

“No, you don't,” Dean mutters.

“But you can't risk your life in the stupidest available way just to get back at me, Dean. Not after everything I've done to make sure you come back safe.”

Well at least he didn't include Sam in that „saving” part.

“You were there, man. You know Benny never double crossed me or you. What the exact fuck is your problem with him?”

A very angry squint-frown precedes the actual answer.

“You were his ticket to Earth. Now your life doesn't hold the same value.”

“Thanks, Cas. That's really swee—”

“You know that's not what I meant, Dean,” Cas growls in a tone that's clearly a final warning.

So final even Sam and his high horse must have heard since he steps in to defuse Cas.

“Cas, I'm not a fan of saying it, but Benny isn't a threat to Dean. I think the guy is kinda trying to settle,” he offers.

Dean smiles a little bit.

“See, Cas?”

“But I'm worried he might have more vamps trying to take him down because he pissed off every fang that ever knew him and then some. This is actual danger, Dean.”

“What?!” Castiel explodes in unbridled rage.

“Sam, have you ever wondered where do snitches go after they die?”

“Dean, you know I'm serious.”

“Ditches,” Dean concludes.

“When exactly were you going to tell me this?” Castiel asks coldly. “After you get killed by vampire avengers?”

“They're all taken care of, Cas. No mean jokes this time. Relax.”

“With your Winchester luck? I doubt it.”

“Oh, come on. It's not like you wouldn't bring me back even if something did happen.”

“Yes, even twice because first I would have personally destroyed you for being so reckless.”

“I know you would.”

“Guys,” Sam tries to placate, “we should all calm down and rethink how to handle it safely. It's not a good time for some jilted lovers tiff”, he begs.

Dean frowns then makes mocking faces at him to communicate that he's being a fucking douche.

“You're a fucking jilted lovers tiff,” he decides.

“We had sex, Dean,” Castiel states accusatorily.

Little does he know, he just broke Sam beyond repair. Now that the cat is out of the bag, the only thing Dean can do is to straighten some things out.

“Once,” he says, raising a finger to accentuate his point. “Cas was sure we were gonna die in the morning. We didn't, but there never was a follow up on that, so,” Dean shrugs.

“You weren't interested.”

“Says you,” Dean huffs. “I’m sorry, do you know me? Being interested in sex is in my top five pasttimes. You behaved like a brick on the other hand and I don’t know how to read concrete.”

“I don’t want to be here, good fucking God,” Sam finally yelps after a successful reboot of his brain.

Dean’s pretty sure nobody wants to be in this car right now and the only goddamn thing that could potentially make him ‘special’ right now is the fact currently Sam’s probably the only person in the Impala who has not lain his mouth on Cas’s dick. Hopefully.

Funnily enough, Cas could easily poof out without lethal injuries, but he’s dead set on staying, judging from the frown on his face that looks like a stock market crash diagram.

“I didn’t exactly see you giving me any signs.”

And set on having this conversation.

“I’m not a cat, I don’t go into heats, Cas. Can we talk about it somewhere more private? Later? Cuz everybody here wants to fucking die right now.”

“Private?” Cas asks. “If you want privacy to talk then why do you refuse to book a room with me?”

“We don’t need to share a room to have a conversation. Unless what you want it to end with is getting back on track with that last night on Earth thing we had that one time.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam cries.

“Grow up and stow your crap, Sam,” Cas says unexpectedly before Dean could even bother to serve anything in a similar note.

Dean is so thrown off his equilibrium by that he puts the car to an abrupt halt. Only because he’s too deeply wired to not crash the Impala into the first available so he won’t accidentally kill Sam.

That is, if Cas’s words haven’t obliterated him already. He glances at him, just in case. Speechless as holily commanded by the celestial – potentially horny – wrath from the back seat, but at least he’s still breathing.

“Um,” he says, because someone’s gotta, because he’s still the big brother in this demented equation. “Cas, what the fuck was that?”

“Should you, of all people, really need me to be this blunt – now that the worst affairs have been settled, we could pick up where we left off, and hopefully reach a mutual understanding regarding the nature of our relationship so that doubt no longer hinders you. If it’s still something that interests you, of course. Would that be clear and direct enough, Dean?”

Well, that was… long? Long enough citations are probably needed, but, uh, yeah. S’ gotta be addressed immediately or else.

“Cas, that was 2010 and we have 2012 now.”

“It was 2012 when you prayed to me in Purgatory and it was 2012 four days ago. Granted, your feelings towards me might be very complicated, but I still can sense and read your longing,” Cas says with a weary sigh.

“Stop smelling my longing,” Dean responds with a wearier one. “And I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“But I should explain myself to you.”

“I’m real fed up with your explanations, you know that? And we don’t got time for that, either. We need to get to Lafayette because we got a case waiting to get solved.”

“It’s because he’s waiting there for you, isn’t it,” Cas says sadly; not a question. A statement.

Dean doesn’t need to respond. Doesn’t feel like it, too.

Yeah. It’s good to actually have someone waiting for you; someone there.

Maybe it’s not that complicated, after all. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.

Dean starts the car. He’s got a place to go to.

The sound apparently wakes Sam from his stupor. His bright idea of the day, he turns the radio on before the awkward silence can make the universe inside of the Impala collapse on itself and on all three of them. Too late for Dean to react now; might as well get a load of the weather report.

In the back seat, Cas flicks his wrist subtly and the monotone voice sharply cuts off into static for a moment and the frequency bar moves elsewhere on its’ – or rather, Cas’s – own. Some solitary synthesiser-made sounds drop one after another like tiny steps and Dean realizes he definitely has heard this song before at some point in his life as eighties one hit wonders ain’t no strangers to him. Oh well. Might as well not get any of the wea—

Looking from a window above, it’s like a story of love… Can you hear me?

Is he fucking kidding?!

Came back only yesterday, I’m moving farther away.... Want you near me…

“Are you fucking kidding?” Dean cries out, incredulous.

Tries to turn the radio off but it just won’t die.

All I needed was the love you gave— “You want melodramatic? I’ll give you melodramatic.” —All I needed for another day — Dean reaches out for his phone and starts typing angrily — and all I ever knew, only you.

He puts on good ol’ Fish and hopes it’s gonna be louder than Cas’s synth-pop loving. And starts driving towards where he wants to be cause he’s tired of dancing.

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basicallywhiterice · 5 years

Text

Eight words: Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers, lowkey friends to lovers lmao, smidge of angst, fluff

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 8.5 k

Summary: Sure, one could tell someone they loved them with eight letters. But eight words convey deeper, more complex meanings.

a/n: Happy birthday, Han aka J. One aka Jisung! I wish you a smooth, unhurried transition into adulthood, as do all Stays. And dear reader, I present to you this fic about my bias… enjoy!

•••

One word.

Three words and eight letters can sum up my feelings towards Han Jisung, although they’re much more intense than what eight letters can contain.

“I hate you.”

Case in point: After a long day of lectures and labs, I’m ready to throttle him.

“Jisung.”

“Y/n,” he mocks, making his voice higher to imitate mine.

No, he’s not my friend. Of course not. I wouldn’t tell a friend: “I’ve been looking for you. Thanks for responding to my text messages asking where you were. I really appreciate it.” No, Jisung’s really more like a stuck up, annoying dumbass who happens to do well on every test he takes.

“Oh, I had my phone turned off. But you missed me that much?”

I puff my cheeks up and sigh. “You wish. Do you wanna review for the Bio exam together?”

“Biology?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“The one I’m really good at?”

“Debatable, but whatever floats your boat.”

“And let me get this straight,” he says, trying—and failing—to suppress a smile. “You need my help to study for it? My help? The help of me, Han Jisung? J. One? The one for you?”

“I don’t need your fucking help-” I bite back a few colorful words when I see his barely-hidden smile expand into a smirk and he shakes his head, almost disapprovingly. “Sort of, yes.” I muster the fakest smile I can display without cringing, tilting my head for added sarcasm.

“No.”

“Why not?” I sigh, having expected this to happen.

“What’s the fun in that, darling?”

Heat creeps into my cheeks as I fume over his disgusting pet name. “Han Jisung, I’m gonna strangle you in your sleep-”

“While that sounds tempting, and I had no idea you were into that, you’re not giving me any other reasons to help you, darling.” He leans back, resting his head against his pretty soft interlaced fingers, fixing me with The Look™ that lets me know he’s messing with me and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.

“We’ve studied for every test together and I’m sick of asking if you want to study every single time? Is that a good enough fucking reason for you?”

He drops one of his hands down and rests his index finger on his chin. “That’s valid…” he exhales, after a long, drawn out pause.

I nearly deck him in the face. I roll my eyes instead. “You know what, I’m leaving. Tell me your answer tomorrow if you need that long to think.” I shove my binders and textbooks into my backpack, swing it up on my shoulders, and make a beeline for the door. It’s not fair to snap at him so unexpectedly like this, but with the first semester at college rushing to a close, I don’t have enough time to play these petty games.

“Hey, hey, hey, wait up. What’s wrong?” he runs after me and pulls me back by my elbow with his right hand.

I take a deep breath, trying to rationalize my anger that’s not because of him but directed at him (at least, not today). “Nothing, I’m just really not in the mood for this kind of exchange for another twenty minutes. I have to study for more than just the science exam. I’d like it if we could just skip this elaborate negotiating for just one day.”

“Oh.” He lets go of my arm. “Yeah. Sure. Studying for exams together. Same studying schedule, texting if we change any days?” When I nod in affirmation, he sticks his hands into his jacket pockets. “Sorry for stressing you out more. You can tell me when you’re having a bad day, you know.”

Oh. “I know. Sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t mean it.” He starts to say something, but I hold up a hand. “It’s somewhat tolerable to have someone to banter with every day.” I blurt out.

Jisung glances down, then raises his gaze to meet mine. His eyes squeeze into crescents. His plump lips (ew) stretch outwards to reveal his pearly whites. I’m sure that my expression mirrors his.

“Good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“Don’t get a big head. Well, don’t get an even bigger one.”

“You mean a big brain.”

“No, you don’t have a brain.”

He feigns a hurt expression. “Wow, princess. I thought I was tolerable.”

“You ruined the mood!” I shake my head, laughing. “You’re only somewhat tolerable. Definitely not when you call me pet names.”

“Sugar, you wound me.”

“Han Jisung!” I smack his arm half-heartedly.

“You love it though, honey.” He rests his hand on the top of my backpack, gently guiding me out the library doors and towards the parking lot.

Hm.

(Yes.)

•••

Two words.

This was supposed to be a peaceful weekend hangout.

“Felix, put that knife down! Right now! Or no Fortnite for a week!”

Somehow, all our weekend hangouts end up with Chan and Woojin babysitting. That is, until they act like kids themselves.

“Don’t challenge him to a knife fight, Chan! This isn’t Australia, where you have to fend for yourself in the desert—Kim Woojin if you join them I’ll let Minho cook dinner for a week.”

Then the rest of us babysit them until we figure out a better alternative to plastic-knife fencing (Changbin and Chan end up winning after they team up). After finally agreeing on going to the park (like in the Boxer video you know), the boys take over the swings and unintentionally terrorize children (while complaining about freezing to death) while Ryujin and I rethink our life choices and miss Tzuyu, who’s in Taiwan visiting her family.

“Why are we friends with them, again?” she asks, picking at her nails and pretending not to laugh when Seungmin throws wood chips in Hyunjin’s face.

“Yeah, y/n, why are you friends with us?” Jisung butts in after Jeongin refuses all of his hugs. I shoot him a thumbs up, and he grins behind Jisung’s back.

“I’m not friends with you. I’m friends with everyone else here because they’re cool, unlike you, stupid.”

“Ah, you were never a good liar, sweetie.”

Ryujin stifles a laugh, and I shoot her a half-hearted glare. “Not right now, Jisung. I’m still stressing over exam grades.”

“All the teachers entered them this morning, you know.” Surprisingly, there were no pet names present in that sentence. Hallelujah.

“They did?” I check my phone, and sure enough, all the exam grades are there. “What! I was reloading this page all morning! What’d you get in Bio?”

“An A. You?”

“As expected. Same.”

“As expected,” he mimics.

“Is that why you didn’t drag me on the slides?” Ryujin asks. “Because you were worried about your grades, that always end up being an A?”

“No comment.”

“You should go and have fun now that you know your GPA is safe,” she suggests. “No point in coming here if you’re just going to sit here.”

“You were the one who refused to associate with these,” I jab a thumb at the boys, “losers.”

“Oops.”

“You guys should play tag with us or something,” Jisung offers. “See who’s a loser then.”

“Challenge accepted. I’ll go round up the others,” Ryujin agrees, pushing herself off the metal bench and jogging over to the swings.

“What about you, y/n?” asks Jisung.

“Hm. Maybe.” I pretend to think, already knowing my answer is going to be yes.

“Come on! Join us?”

“How could I say no? I can’t just sit back and watch you lose without joining and winning against you.”

“... I’m going to pretend the reason is because you’re such a great friend to us.”

“Only the rest of them. Not you.” I correct him.

“Thank you. ‘preciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

•••

Three words.

The ice on the streets is frozen and so am I.

I had ducked into the quaint little cafe on campus to grab a hot drink and to regain feeling in my feet when I saw what’s causing me to stand here—frozen, like a statue.

I saw Jisung. In our cafe. The one I frequent at least twice a week with him (not voluntarily, of course. He follows me here, probably to annoy me more, and I let him so I can annoy him more.)

Under normal circumstances, I’d be disgusted, not paralyzed. But today is different.

He sits at a two-person table. Next to him, a girl leans over his shoulder, wearing the headphones connected to his computer, occasionally commenting on parts of what I assume is his latest song. Her backpack rests on one of her shoulders. When she turns her head, I can see her face clearly.

He’s with Tzuyu, one of the youngest rising stars in the arts at our university, a hardworking student, an all-around sweet person, and a good friend of ours.

Why, one might ask, did I freeze in place? Simple: I’m sick of Jisung trying to woo girls with the songs he composes.

Once I regain my senses, shuffle forward in line, and place my order, I glance over at their table again. Tzuyu takes off the headphones and starts talking while pointing to different places on his laptop. Jisung smiles sheepishly at the last thing she says. The little prick. It must be an act–after all, if he’s flirted with so many girls through his music, he should be used to the compliments.

Tzuyu walks away from him after glancing at her watch and waving goodbye. She notices me when she’s halfway to the cafe door and grins, waving at me before she shoots Jisung one last smile and leaves. I wave back.

Of course, this exchange means that Jisung notices me. He motions for me to wait, holding up one finger. He clicks around on his laptop, closes it, and slides it into his backpack, along with his headphones. He stands up right as my drink is finished and my name is called. I snag the drink and try to rush to the door as discreetly as possible. Unfortunately, I’m very conspicuous, and Jisung follows me, calling my name.

I’m outside when he catches up with me, frozen in place once again as I internally debate if I should stay and talk to him or leave him. He makes the decision for me when he steps beside me, tugging my elbow in the direction I’m facing to get me to walk so I don’t hold up foot traffic.

“I told you to wait for me in there, y/n. You usually do it, why’d you ignore me today?”

Play dumb, y/n. “Who’s y/n?” Not that dumb!

I clear my throat and try again. “You were in there?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I know you saw me.” When I don’t reply, he sighs. “Walk with me? It’s the last week before break and I won’t have the pleasure of personally annoying you every day.”

I tilt my head forward to tell him to start walking. I can only think of a (half-hearted) protest once we’ve walked a full block. “It’s going to snow soon.”

“You love the snow.”

I exhale through my mouth, forming a cloud of condensation with my breath in the crisp, chilly air. “Yeah, I do.”

A beat passes. Quietly, Jisung asks, “Are you mad?” Another beat. “At me?”

I think back to Tzuyu getting the opportunity to hear an unreleased track. “No, I’m not.” My heart pangs when I picture them leaning in so close together, even though my rational self tells me I shouldn’t be mad over something that small, especially if it concerns such a close friend and such a stupid asshole.

“I think you’re mad. You’re talking a lot less than normal.”

“Congratulations. You must think you’re so smart.”

“Thanks for finally noticing.”

“Look, what do you want?”

“I want to know why you’re mad.”

“Who said I was mad?”

He snorts in disbelief. “You literally just admitted to it.”

“When did I say that?” I stop walking.

He laughs, a dry, airy chuckle that morphs into a sigh. “I just want to know why you’re mad, and if I can help.”

I scoff. “Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll be alright. Is there anything else-”

“No, you don’t seem like you’ll be fine! You almost never get angry!”

“Why are you so angry about me being angry? Not everything’s about you.”

I suppose it would be a great testament to anyone else’s character if they realized my insults were just my anger speaking and refused to insult me back. However, this is Jisung we’re talking about. He’s more likely to stop talking because he can’t think of a retort, not because he’s conscientious.

Sigh. Maybe he’s not that bad after all.

Just when I acknowledge the slim possibility that Jisung might not be a jerk all of the time, he reaches out and steals my phone.

“What-”

“I’m not giving this back until you tell me why.” He taps away at the lock screen, and unlocks it.

My lips part slightly and my eyebrows crease together. I’m in shock. “How-”

“I’ve seen you enter your password a lot, I just never thought about using it until today. Let’s see… should I read over the English story you refuse to send me because it’s not done yet?”

I break out of my stupor. “Stop it! There’s a reason I haven’t sent it yet. It’s horrible!” I reach out, left arm flailing uselessly, hand smacking his shoulder. He just steps back and turns away from me.

“Oops, too late.” Over his shoulder, I can see him click on the Google Docs app and open the most recently edited document. He scrolls the page down, reading as he goes, but he’s moving around so much that I can’t read the words on the screen at first. My heart nearly stops when I recognize the format of my poetry doc, a place where I word vomit all my artistic and lyrical poetry ideas.

“Jisung, stop! Right now!” I wonder how desperate I sound right now, although I try not to show it.

That’s my poetry. It’s raw, unfinished, and, quite frankly, really cringy. I’ve only trusted Ryujin, Tzuyu, and Hyunjin enough to read one poem, let alone all of them. And now Jisung is scrolling through the entire document.

My blood boils over, simultaneously turning to ice. I chuck my cup of hot chocolate into the trash can. My appetite’s been ruined. I wrestle my phone out of his grip using two hands, palms and fingers crashing against the screen, frantically checking to see if I accidentally modified my poems with my clumsy tapping. I silently sigh in relief when I’m certain nothing was edited. Then, I fix Jisung with a cold, blank stare.

“Those poems were good…” he trails off when I take a step towards him. “No, really.”

“Those were personal poems that I don’t want people to read unless I decide to share them when they’re finished. I don’t want someone who’s going to make fun of me to read it! Don’t you understand the concept of privacy?” I spit out through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry. That… kind of reminds me of my songs and how I only share them with people I trust a lot when they’re unfinished. I shouldn’t have gone through all of that.”

“It reminds you of your songs? Well, unlike you, I don’t use my creative work to flirt with others.”

He flinches, eyes wide and panicked. “How did you know about that?”

“About you flirting through songs? It’s obvious: you let them listen to your unfinished work, and then they compliment you and you pretend to be all humble and everything and-” I groan and run a hand through my hair. Be a nice person. Don’t insult him. Be a nice person. Don’t insult him. Be a nice-

“Are you mad that Tzuyu was helping me with a song earlier in the cafe? Is that why you’re mad?”

I gape at him. “The world doesn’t revolve around you and your enormous ego! Plus, don’t you remember what happened the last time you stole my phone?”

Jisung wasn’t always this annoying. When I first met him, I even thought he was cute. (I still do, but I always deny it, and any non-platonic feelings, if anyone accuses me of thinking that way.) But a few weeks after I met him, when we had become friends, he stole my phone and accidentally deleted a notes page where I kept several passwords (that I was too lazy to remember). He apologized, but the damage had already been done.

“I’ve never used my music to flirt with anyone. And for your information, I ran into Tzuyu. I didn’t invite her to flirt with her.”

Oh. “Ok, and?”

He drags a hand over his face. “Why were you mad at me when we left the cafe?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m ready to storm off and leave, but I realize that Jisung did have a point. Today is the last day before break, and even if he’s a conceited jerk, I don’t want to end things on a bad note until we see each other again.

I take a deep breath. “Let’s sit down and talk through this like civilized people. Is that ok?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do this entire time!”

I drag him over to a bench and plop down, leaving a respectable amount of distance between us. “You want to know why I’m mad? I’ve been asking to hear your unreleased tracks for who knows how long, and you won’t even let me read the lyrics. I have to wait until you and the rest of 3racha drop an album. And I understand that! You're allowed to not share your work! But you also let a ton of people listen to your songs and they just end up complimenting your talent, whereas I’ve offered to help you refine your songs. To me, that seems shallow, especially since most people you show them to are girls. And then you go through my poems without my permission. To be fair, I might be overreacting.”

“No, you’re not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I smile tiredly. “Sure, I’ll probably share them someday, but I need a heads up. I thought you would’ve understood how much they mean to me since you’re protective of your songs.” I drag a hand over my face. “Ok, rant’s over.”

And so I spend the next half an hour understanding Jisung’s point of view. I end up accepting his apology. As we part ways, he pulls me into a hug. I don’t resist, and bury my face into his shoulder. When we pull apart, he waves before walking away. I can’t help the goofy smile that spreads onto my face once his back is turned. Suddenly, a thought washes over me.

Idiot. I’ll miss you.

•••

Four words.

Winter break is refreshing.

That is, until I realize how unproductive I’m being. Then I panic, becoming both unproductive and unhappy.

It’s almost a relief when I get back to school, until I realize how much work I’m drowning in. Then I wish I was on break again.

Sigh. The paradoxes of life.

On the bright side, at least I get to see my squad again. (And (see) roast Jisung.)

On the third week back from school, Hyunjin drags Ryujin and me to one of 3racha’s monthly shows (they have quite the fanbase on campus.) We would’ve gone anyways, but Hyunjin is a nice addition.

The first thing he says when we arrive at the venue is, “Aren’t you so excited about seeing Jisung perform? Hmm?” while wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, y/n, aren’t you going to gush about how cute he looks while performing?” Ryujin adds.

“No. And that was one time. Once.”

“No, it’s every time. You always talk about him.” Hyunjin may have a point.

“Is there something that we should know?” Ryujin asks slyly. “I am your roommate, so if you’re going to talk about him 24/7, you might as well just tell us you like him instead of being in denial.”

“No. I don’t like him. I never talk about him.” My words sound weak even to me. “Remember? He’s like my mortal enemy.”

Pause. The two of them stare at me skeptically, waiting for me to stop denying everything.

“Ok, fine. He looks so fricking attractive when he’s performing, and his eyes transform completely and it’s like looking at a sharper version of him, and he still manages to be absolutely adorable when he smiles and his nose and eyes scrunch up, and-” I envelope Ryujin in a hug, cringing in embarrassment. She tries not to laugh, but I can feel her shoulders shaking. Hyunjin fails to contain his amusement, laughing so loudly that 3racha, preparing backstage, can probably hear him.

“Not a single word to anyone,” I make them promise.

“I’m totally convinced that you don’t have a crush on him,” Hyunjin says once he’s stopped laughing (two minutes later.)

“You’re the one who’s all buddy-buddy with him when you tried to beat him up that one time in high school.”

“People change,” he shrugs. “But you’ve always seemed like you had a soft spot for him.”

“No, you’re wrong. He’s my sworn enemy. He deleted my passwords that one time and read my poems and that makes him my arch-nemesis.” I sigh. “Oh, who am I kidding?”

Luckily (or not), Jisung chooses this moment to saunter over, sparing me from all their teasing. “What’s up, my dudes? Are you ready to get wowed by us?”

“Wow is your best song yet. You’re performing that tonight, right?” I confirm.

“Yup. I’m sure you guys can get some meme-worthy material out of Changbin’s reactions.”

“Jisung, have I ever told you how attractive you look when you perform?” snickers Hyunjin, excessively batting his eyelashes and latching onto Jisung. I shoot him daggers with my eyes while trying to look not-exactly-murderous to Jisung. Ryujin stifles a laugh at my expense for the second time tonight.

“Thanks, buddy. I’m aware, but it’s nice to know that someone appreciates my hotness every once in a while.”

“Why are we here again?” I wonder out loud, giggling at the overly dramatic look of betrayal that Jisung puts on.

“My dear, it’s obviously for me! How could you forget?”

“Oh right, it was for my favorite 3racha member, Changbin!”

Jisung shrugs Hyunjin off, coming over and embracing me playfully. “No, not allowed.”

“C’mon, let’s go say hi to my man, Changbin!” I tell the ‘jins, tilting my head towards the stage.

“Noooo. Darling, that’s so mean.”

I give up on pushing Jisung off once it’s clear that he stubbornly refuses to leave. I ruffle his hair instead as “revenge.” (“Hey! That took me a solid five seconds to style! You’re fixing that.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever floats your boat.”) Ryujin, Hyunjin, and I agree that we should go greet Chan and Changbin. As we head backstage to say hi to 2racha, Jisung reluctantly stops hugging me when it gets too difficult to walk. He still keeps a hand loosely anchored on my right shoulder. I don’t complain, nor do I shrug him off. I guess it feels nice ok when he’s a normal, chill, person.

Ok, that was an under-exaggeration. I feel like I’m on cloud nine.

Maybe Ryujin is secretly a mind reader, or maybe I’m just really transparent, because she pokes my arm, not saying anything when I ask her “what,” while trying to hide the furious blush I know is present on my face. She just raises her eyebrows and grins. I widen my eyes back.

“So, uh y/n.” starts Jisung, breaking me out of my semi-staring contest with Ryujin. “There’s an open mic at our cafe next week—you know, the one we go to at least twice a week? Anyways, there’s an open mic next Friday and I was planning on going to either test out a new song I produced or a couple of poems I wrote and would you—I was wondering if you wanted to go too? I know you’re a little hesitant about sharing your poems, but from what I saw, you had some really good works and I’m sure other people would enjoy your poetry too. And of course you don’t have to go, I just thought it would be a fun experience if you were down.”

I’m floored. Han Jisung being genuinely nice and considerate? Unheard of. But when I start thinking about all my previous encounters with him, I realize that this is not the exception—it’s the rule.

Maybe I was so intent on labeling him as a rival that I’ve been halfheartedly denying the existence of his good traits.

“Thank you for appreciating my poems. That… honestly, that means so much to me. I’d love to go and perform. As long as I have time to prepare and I get to choose what to present… it’ll be new, but doable.” I wrap both arms around his waist and squish the left side of my face against his right shoulder. “I’m excited for Friday.”

“I’m glad you’re excited.”

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

Wait. What am I doing lowkey cuddling him in public? Oh well. I don’t hate it. In fact, I might go as far as to say… I really like it.

(When we get backstage, I fist-bump Changbin and do a weird quasi-dance off with Chan before hugging them both and wishing them good luck before promising to record the entirety of Wow. Jisung pouts and pouts and pouts some more until I fix his hair, then takes my hands and pulls me around in circles like the man-child he is.

Ryujin promises to tell their embarrassing stories to all their fans after she greets 2racha.

Hyunjin forgoes any formalities and starts complaining about Seungmin.

“Chan, control your child! He’s becoming more and more savage. The world can’t contain his saltiness.”

“Maybe that’s his way of showing love.”

His face goes :o. “RYUJIN, YOU’RE A GENIUS!”)

•••

Five words.

It’s Wednesday and I am: straight-up not having a good time (bro).

After a long day filled with tests and being even more sleep-deprived than usual due to said tests, I really just want to curl up into a ball and do absolutely nothing.

Unfortunately, I need to stay awake in order to finish a creative writing story (yes, another one.) Then, I need to study for two more tests for tomorrow and do a shit ton of homework. On top of that, with the open mic two days away, I’m furiously revising and editing what I’m presenting.

To be completely honest, I’ve been playing with ways to reference Jisung in my poems. I know: crazy, right? Stupid Jisung and his stupid mole on his left cheek on his stupid face that my gaze always drifts back to. Stupid Jisung and his genuinely expressive personality. Stupid Jisung and his amazingly accurate intuition and knowledge and pair of eyes that allow him to say things like:

“You’re staring at me quite a bit, sugar.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m just thinking of all the ways I… could get you to shut up.” I finish lamely.

“Really, now.” He leans towards me in his stupid library chair. “Do any of them involve making out in the library?”

Gahhhh. “Not funny didn’t laugh.” I go back to trying to be productive, but it’s hard when my brain is spewing out thoughts faster than (Jisung) Changbin and Chan can rap.

It sucks sometimes when Jisung makes all these suggestive jokes because he’ll never see me in a romantic light. I think that might be part of the reason why I try (and routinely fail) to act so cold to him: I was aware of all the emotions beneath the way I wanted to view and portray him. (My brain: No, this is not a crush. Crushes are shallow and go away after a week. These feelings aren’t going anywhere.)

I get through editing one paragraph of my story before Jisung speaks again. “Are you considering the offer?”

“No.” Maybe. Yes. “Don’t you have a lab report to write?”

“I’d gladly give up on that for you.”

“Jisung, stop, please. Not tonight, ok? On any other day I’d go along with your banter, but I have serious shit to get done with tonight.”

“Oh, ok. Do you want me to help with anything?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Thanks for offering.”

I give up on my story for the time being and slip an earbud into the ear facing away from Jisung. I pull out a thicc textbook and finish my Calculus homework. A page of notebook paper later, I’m done. I close the book, lean back in my seat, and rub my eyes.

“You look like you need a break,” he notes.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, you deserve it. I’ll even play with your hair.” Darn it! Why why why does Jisung know all my weaknesses? It’s always a destresser for me when plays with my hair. Still, I’m a little hesitant to completely neglect my work for five minutes.

“I’ll give you a back rub too.” Hesitation? Productivity? Who? We don’t know them.

I fall into his outstretched arms and nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck. He laughs a little, leaning back in his chair. His soft hoodie creates a comfortable cushioning, and I sigh in contentment when he runs a hand through my hair, wrapping my arms around his waist. He shifts his legs so his knees are slightly angled toward me, and I do the same.

Then he shifts his right arm and closes the lid of my computer. And picks it up off the table. And sets it back down further away from me so I can’t reach it.

“Jisungggggg,” I whine, reluctantly lifting up my head. I extend my left arm, trying to grasp it, but he just pushes it away again. “I need that. Gotta get this bread. Flaunt that croissant. Ice that rice.” I’m not sure when I stopped talking and started babbling nonsense, but I can blame my lack of sleep for that.

‘What you need is a good night of rest.” He picks up the laptop and holds it close to him, turning away from me.

My senses kick back in. “No! I need to get all this stuff done first. Then I can sleep. Give,” my right hand grasps the edge of my computer. “It,” I give a strong yank. “Back!” We engage in a brief game of tug-of-war before I almost pull it out of his grasp. Then he snatches it back, firmly in his grip.

I huff and pull out my phone forcefully, opening the Google doc containing my poems and stories I’m planning on presenting at open mic for a few revisions and edits. “Must you always be this infuriating? Like, is there a point to stealing my computer when there’s stuff I need to do?”

A small, almost imperceptible pause. I almost don’t even notice it because it’s so brief. It goes straight to the back of my mind.

“You need to rest, y/n. I don’t think all of this stressing is good for you.”

“That doesn’t mean you can steal my computer.”

“Deal with it.”

I sigh. “I hate you right now,” I mumble tiredly. I go back to skimming over my prose and poetry, inserting and deleting a few words here and there.

I have no idea how long the silence stretches on until Jisung responds. “I know, you’ve told me.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the truth.” Is it grammatically acceptable to use the word ‘like’ in a narrative if you want to have a casual tone? Like, if you want to express a coherent train of thought without using too many words? Would that tone be acceptable? Jisung’s tone just now was off. He almost seemed hurt—oh my god what did I just say.

I come to the (belated) realization that I falsely told him I hated him—with what sounded like conviction, too!—just as he speaks.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and sometimes, you treat me like I’m you’re enemy or rival. I thought we were friends. I wrote you a song—multiple songs. I’ve tried dropping so many hints about how I see you as more than just a friend, but all this time, you saw me as less than one.”

My drowsiness has dissipated. “No, Jisung, I wasn’t thinking—have you never seen me as a rival?”

“It’s ok. You’re not obligated to feel anything for me. You don’t owe me anything. And of course not. I would never see you in such a negative way.” His entire demeanor changes. Jisung is normally very open about his emotions, whether he’s happy, stressed, excited, sad, hurt, enthusiastic, or serious. In this instance, though, his face falls into a more neutral expression that betrays next to nothing about what he’s thinking. But this expression is more than enough to tell me what he feels.

He’s hurt because of what I said. Deeply hurt.

“You could’ve just told me that you hated me,” he continues. “I don’t understand why you would make me feel like we were friends while secretly despising me.”

“Jisung, I don’t hate you.”

“Sure you don’t.” He laughs without humor. “Well, seeing as you clearly don’t want my company, I’ll leave now.” He shoves his laptop, textbook, and notebook into his backpack. He rises and starts walking off.

I rush after him.

“No, Jisung, I didn’t mean it. Please just listen to me.” I catch his left arm a few seconds after we exit the library. He stands there, stationary, neither moving towards me nor pulling away from me. The wind gently breezes past the two of us, tousling the ends of his hair. My heart threatens to get stuck in my throat. I swallow and force myself to go on. “I don’t hate you. You can hate me all you want for saying hurtful things to you, but I’ve never hated you and never will.”

“I could never hate you. And while you may not completely hate me, if you’ve always felt hostile toward me—ever since the start of our so-called ‘friendship’—I don’t really know what to think anymore.”

“No, that’s not what I think. At all. Please hear me out.”

“I think I should leave. Have fun studying without a constant annoying distraction.” He lets his arm slip out of my grip, taking a step forward. “Goodbye.”

He takes long strides away from the library, away from me. All I can think about is how wrong he is. About how wrong I am.

I hurt him, a person with one of the truest hearts and most genuine personalities I’ve ever met. Always being open and transparent with his thoughts, never failing to make me smile. He knows me so well, and I know so much about him, too. He’s been through the ups and the downs with me, and I’ve stayed by his side when he’s needed support, too. He even manages to harness raw, heavy emotions and transform it into beautiful songs such as ‘I see’ that he, Han Jisung, J. One, produces. And now he thinks I hate him.

“No,” I whisper to myself after he’s gone and no one is around to hear me. “It’s the opposite of that.”

I like him so much. Platonically, and romantically. But I’ve missed my chance to tell him, and I’ve broken our friendship that we’ve always had, even if I denied its existence.

Five words can crush someone.

•••

Six words.

Once I’m done with my self reflection about just how foolish and spiteful I acted, I call Ryujin, Hyunjin, and Tzuyu for help. We meet at the dorm Ryujin and I share.

Hyunjin silently shakes his head. Ryujin gives me a side-hug, rubbing circles into my right shoulder. Tzuyu is the first to speak after I describe the events that happened.

“He really likes you. He’s written at least five songs for you and ten songs about you. That day in the cafe, when I ran into him and saw you, he asked for my opinion on one of his songs for you. The reason why he’s never asked you two,” she glances at Hyunjin and Ryujin, “is because he thought you guys would spill the beans.” She sits down on my right side and offers me a hug. “You need to talk to him as soon as possible. He’s cares enough to write songs for you.”

“I know, but he won’t respond to any of my messages or calls.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin starts, “I’m sorry if this sounds bad, but we were always convinced that you two were secretly dating and wouldn’t tell us.” He half-smiles awkwardly. “Don’t give up just yet.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that!” Ryujin comforts. “We all make mistakes. Don’t let this bother you and make you give up. I’d say that you’ve learned a lot from this.”

“Thanks, Ryu.” I groan, my face falling into my hands. “What the heck am I supposed to do?” I wrote you a song. I thought we were friends. I’ve dropped hints about how I see you as more than just a friend.

He cares enough to write songs for you.

I’ve been thinking of ways to reference Jisung in my poems.

“That’s it!” I exclaim. “Poetry! And maybe a short story, too.” When I see three confused faces, I elaborate. “He’s written songs about me, right? Well, writing is important to me, so what if I wrote about him in the stuff I’m reading at the open mic? And apologize and explain to him afterwards? All I need to do is make sure he goes to open mic, and you guys could help me convince him. At least, that’s the best idea I can think of right now.”

“Sure.” “We’ll help you.” “You got this, girl!”

Their encouragement lifts my mood, and I’m overly optimistic for a second. My phone buzzes, and I dare to hope that I might be able to mend my relationship with Jisung.

The message is from Jisung, and I foolishly hope for the best. Then I read what he sent.

You don’t have to pretend, y/n.

He doesn’t believe me. He doubts that I see him positively because of how hurtful I acted and the words I said to him. Honestly, I don’t even blame him. If I was in his position, I’d probably do the same.

I have screwed up. Big time.

I never meant to hurt or belittle him, even if I claimed he was my enemy. But somewhere along the way, I turned into one of the worst kinds of people and did.

I hope I can salvage this.

•••

Seven words.

Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down. Everything will turn out fine.

It’s showtime. After much persuasion, Tzuyu and Hyunjin convinced Jisung to perform at open mic (of course, they had to make him think I wouldn’t attend.) Jisung will perform first, then perform one more time after three people. I’m the person right before him.

I stand inside near the counter, far away from our regular table near the windows. He hasn’t seen me yet. I fiddle with my hands, trying to hide my face. I breathe a sigh of relief when he hops on stage to perform. He hasn’t seen me yet.

He greets the patrons of the cafe, cracking a few jokes before kicking things off with a revised version of ‘For you’. He gets halfway through it before he locks eyes with me.

I tentatively wave. He glances away.

After he finishes, he receives a warm round of applause. He grins, equally bashful and proud, and hops off the stage. He situates himself far away from me.

Two more people present. Two and a half minutes into the second person’s slam poetry performance, I work up the courage to shuffle over to him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ve never hated you. I’ve never even disliked you. In fact, I feel the opposite way. I just never thought you’d see me as more than a friend, so I tried convincing myself that you weren’t an all-around amazing person. It didn’t work. It would never work.”

He stares at me, not speaking. I press on.

“You’re one of the most genuine people I know. I can always tell what you’re thinking, because you have nothing to hide. You’re incredibly dedicated. You’ve been a great friend to me, especially when I was rude to you and didn’t deserve it. You see the best in everyone and encourage them to showcase their strengths.” I take a fluttering breath. “I never thought that someone like you would even consider someone like me. I’m sorry for calling you annoying and saying that I hated you. You’re not annoying. I don’t think anyone who’s ever met you would hate you.” I lace my fingers together. “I am really, truly sorry for saying untrue, hurtful things to you.”

The poet onstage finishes. The people watching applaud. I’m next, but I’m frozen in place.

Jisung breaks the silence. “Good luck. We can talk later.”

I dare to smile, and walk onstage.

I’ve chosen to share a short story about the time I accidentally kicked my friend in the face when we took a dance class, saving my poems for another time. I’m really telling a story about Jisung. I take a deep breath and begin.

“This is the story of how I almost broke my friend’s nose.” This is the story of how I broke my friend’s heart.

I describe the contemporary dance class we were in and how close our friendship was. “She was one of my closest friends. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” He’s one of my closest friends. I don’t know what I would do without him.

I add details to build an image of that day, inserting humor and appealing to the audience’s senses, while making sure that my plot advances. “I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings. When I kicked my leg up, my foot collided with her face.” I wasn’t being true to myself or him. When I spoke, my words attacked him.

“I felt immediate regret. I had hurt my friend on accident because I was careless.” I immediately felt horrible. I hurt him with my careless words and actions.

“For a few horrifying minutes, she couldn’t talk because of the pain. I thought our friendship was over and that she would never forgive me.” For a few terrifying days, he wouldn’t talk to me because of the pain I caused. I thought our friendship was over. I thought he would never forgive me. I still do.

“Yet in the end, she chose to forgive my mistake. Even though my actions didn’t reflect how deeply I cared about her, she knew me well enough to understand it was an accident. She knew how much she meant to me, and how I never intended to hurt her.” I hope he can find it in his heart to forgive me. I hope he knows me well enough to know that he means the world to me. I hope that all is not lost.

“It’s easy to harm someone on purpose. It’s even easier to do it on accident, because we’re not fully aware of our actions—we zone out—until we can see a concrete impact. Be self-aware. And if you want to do something fun with a friend, make sure it’s in a low-risk setting. Don’t end up like me! I might have taken the phrase “break a leg” literally if I was a little more careless. The point is, people need time to think. Forgiveness is not easy to receive. But when someone chooses to forgive because they want to, especially if that person plays a crucial role in your life, that can mean the world to someone. Thank you.”

Granted, that’s not the best narrative I could produce, but given my time limit of one-and-a-half day, I’m not too disappointed in myself.

Jisung and I pass each other when he heads toward the stage.

“This song is dedicated to someone special,” he says once he’s onstage. “I hope you guys like it!”

And it’s about me. Us. The time we stayed up until 2am studying and found this cafe because it was the only one open then. The time we wrote tons of poems, narratives, and short stories together (most of them were as a meme, barely longer than four sentences) because we bet the other person they weren’t as creative (it ended as a tie—we created the last poem together). The time he asked for help on the lyrics for a song and I ended up showing him a few of my poems willingly.

My eyes are glued to him, right up until he exits the stage and walks up to me. Then they flit towards the stage for a moment while I try to prepare myself for whatever he has to say. The world stops spinning as he opens his mouth.

“I forgive you.”

Blissfully, unexpectedly, the world starts spinning again. “You do?”

“You didn’t mean it, and while it hurt to hear, I know you don’t actually think that way. It’s not like I’m perfect, either. I’ll get annoyed and say things that aren’t true, too.” He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “I know you, y/n. Like you said, you wouldn’t hurt someone on purpose.” He gives a gentle tug on my hand. “You want to get out of here?”

“I’d love to.” I lean up and press a brief kiss against his cheek. “Where to?”

“You know that new burger place we wanted to try out? I was thinking we could go there.” He pauses. “As a first date,” he adds, the slightest hesitance showing.

I grab his other hand and take a half step towards him. “That sounds like the perfect first date.” I blush. He blushes. He pecks my forehead, the tip of my nose, and both of my cheeks. I untangle our hands to reach up and pinch his cheeks, squishing them together. Mindful of the people in the cafe, we leave soon after, sparing them from watching our PDA. We decide on taking my car, since I drove by myself here and Hyunjin dropped him off and yeeted out of here. (Speaking of Hyunjin, he, Ryujin, and Tzuyu have been blowing up the group chat—The 3 Musketeers—asking how things went. I text them that things went well, and silence my phone.)

Before I start the car, he takes my right hand. “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough,” he states firmly. “You are good enough. 100%. Don’t doubt yourself.”

“Aw, thank you. I realize that a little more now. I was really out of it that day. I turned into a mean version of myself, but I’m working on being more aware of what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. You’re only human. What matters the most is that you truly didn’t mean it and you’re sorry. I’m with you right now,” he starts drawing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, “am I not?”

“You’re right. You are with me now.” I lean in to kiss his cheek, reluctantly pulling away after a few moments to start driving. “Now, Mr. Han Jisung… give me the best first date ever.”

I smile. He smiles. We’re blissfully happy.

•••

Eight words.

That night, the squad gathers at our dorm and invites Jisung in after our date to question, gush over, and tease us. I spend most of the time curled up in his arms, snuggling with him as Ryujin asks what his intentions are (“To show this wonderful lady how much I love her.” “You pass.”).

Hyunjin keeps insisting he was right all along (“I knew you would end up dating!” “Whatever cooks your bacon, buddy.” “You were right, ‘jin! You’re like a fortune-teller. Quick, tell me what I’ll get on my English story next week!” “Uh… 420.”).

Tzuyu grabs me by the shoulders and squeals about how much of a power couple we are (“You guys are so cute! You could write each other poems as gifts! Aaaaah, our y/n is growing up so fast!” “...thanks, mom.”).

While we talk, I occasionally press light kisses anywhere I can reach: his cheek, his neck, his hand, his forehead, and his lips. The reactions are either highkey shipping (Ryu and Tzu) or highkey faked disgust (Hyunjin lmao). (We don’t tell them that we made out in the car for a solid twenty minutes before coming inside.)

The topic shifts from our relationship to anything and everything. After passionately debating whether humans are inherently neutral (neither good nor evil) and if raccoons should be considered pests, it’s well past midnight, and Tzu-Hyun-Sung head home.

The next day, Saturday, we have a weekly hangout with the nine boys and us three girls. More teasing ensues (particularly from the Aussie line and Changbin), but the day is like any other until that night.

Jisung and I go on our second official date to our favorite ramen store, the one where we know the owner by name. We take a stroll outside by a river afterwards, admiring the scenery.

“Y/n, I really like you. I get so happy whenever I see you, or even think about you. You make me want to compose a million love songs and dedicate them all to you. So what I’m saying is… I’m asking you if you’ll be my girlfriend?”

“Yes! A million times yes. I would love to. I could write a million poems about you.” I lean up and kiss him, smiling as I do so. “I would love to be your girlfriend, sweetheart.”

“You finally called me a pet name, babe! Why are you so cute?” Another smooch. He presses his forehead against mine. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“You’re cute. And I’m the lucky one.” I suddenly step back and grab onto his shoulders. “The lucky J. One!”

He laughs, shaking his head, and we continue walking. “This is part of what made me fall for you.” He swoops down for another kiss, leaving me a blushing, stuttering mess.

Jisung really has a way with words. Of course, that’s a given, seeing as he’s a songwriter and poet. But combined with his actions and intentions, his strong work ethic and how much he cares about everyone, the transparency of his thoughts and emotions, he really is unique.

He has the power to make me speechless. But I’ll always have eight words to say.

You are amazing and loveable. Never forget that.

•••

Happy birthday, Han Jisung. You have the support of all us Stays.

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the-tragic-hero-and-you · 4 years

Text

Let’s make a secret

A/N: I’m just being an idiot. Let me have this. Anyways, a little Actor!Mark x Y/N for those of you who like rats. Angst and drunken seduction in this chapter. Also, Ethan get's fired for being an idiot butler.

Story: You and Mark use to be fast friend, but these days you barely talk to him anymore. Now with the Divorce approaching, Damien is worried for his dear friend and sends you to Markiplier Manor to keep him company. Mark doesn’t want to talk about life, preferring to just drink his troubled away with you. . .

The elections went well for Damien. Not only did he get the vast majority of the minority votes, but from others as well. It seemed to be quite a land slide of a victory for him, and you were proud to see how far he had come since the two of you met back in University. It was just him and another candidate now. If things go well, it looks like Damien will have another term to keep his Mayor title.

There was still a few months though, so you had to be at the top of your game to make sure he claims this victory as well. It’s what friends do. Sure, there was the controversy still going around since the last election, about how the two of you were using Damien to climb up in the ranks by giving him ‘special offers’. So many speculations arose, drugs, illegal trafficking, seduction. But no matter how ‘damnable’ the evidence was, It all fell flat and proven false in the end. Now people are just saying you both are secretly a couple. Granted, Damien is a handsome bastard. You can’t help but stare at him sometimes and smile. But he wasn’t your type. You and Damien preferred that the two of you stayed as fast friends til the end of your days, no matter what trials come before you. Nothing would shattered the bond you have.

It was another Sunday.

Or was it a Tuesday?

Doesn’t matter.

You were in your office, shuffling through some paper work when there was a light tapping on your door. listing your head up you noticed Damien peeking his head in. wit ha smile, you motioned him to come in, setting the papers to the side and giving him your full attention. You immediately knew something was wrong due to the look on his face, his gaze to the ground and his footing slower than usual. Damien was never forward when there was an incident that he had to address you about.

“Sorry, old friend. I certainly hope I’m not interrupting anything too critical towards your work.”

You shook your head, reassuring him that whatever was on his mind was far more important. This seemed to relive him by a small portion as he forced a smile and approached your desk.

“Good, good. That’s good to hear. Uhh, look, the reason I’m asking, and the reason why I’m here is because. . . Well . . .I need to ask a favor of you. It’s important.”

He had your attention before. But with that tone and those words? All your plans for the rest of the day can wait. you leaned forward form your seat a little, resting your hands on your desk as you waited for Damien to continue. He didn’t say anything at first, his gaze off to the side as the man went through his thoughts, possibly rethinking what he was going to request of you. Eventually he shook his head, returning his attention towards you and finally spoke.

“It’s Mark.” He muttered, now nervously fiddling with his cane in hand. “He’s going through a rather rough patch right now. I’d love to go see him, but. . .I’m not sure if I’m the right person he wants to see right now. I figured that maybe a familiar face and trouble maker might lighten up his spirits right now.”

Ah yes, Mark. How on earth could you forget such an egotistical man? You did appreciate the actor coming to Damien’s defense about the whole ‘Sex scandal’ incident. Possibly had enough of people spreading rumors about his childhood friend. Nice to know there was still some decency in him ever since he became a big shot actor.

Honestly, you were on the fence about this. But is was Damien asking for this huge favor. The man was far too kind. No matter how big the asshole was, Damien treated him like a brother.

Well, a brother-in-law at one point. . .

You started organizing your things and put them away, indicating to the Mayor that you would do this for him.

“Thank you, my friend’“ He breathed with relief, his smile sincere as he rests his hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure he needs the distraction right about now. Who knows, maybe reminiscing about your shenanigans will lighten his spirits. Just don’t get him into trouble. The ban against you two at the Cafe la Ritz is still holding strong.”

You still don’t regret that night either.

After you left work and freshened up a little at home, you make your way to Markiplier Manor. You tried to recall the location and roads to take in your head as you turned your headlights on, realizing how dark it was becoming. you’ve only ever been to that house once. Even then, you didn’t exactly go inside, rather you just dropped Damien and Mark off at the place. They offered for you to come inside, but something didn’t feel right as you looked at the place. Anything that seemed like it was pulling you in was something you avoided greatly. But at this point, you didn’t have a choice. It’s not like you were going to force Mark to hang out with you outside for the rest of the evening.

You did miss him though. Very much. You might not have known him since childhood like Damien, but the two of you were like Partners in crime, always getting into trouble back in your University days. You were surprised that neither of you got expelled after the gun powder indecent at the museum. Maybe because it didn’t ignite. So many close calls and late nights just causing trouble, sometimes sober, sometimes intoxicated. Honestly, Mark really helped you forget about the crushing stress of life. After graduation though, things seemed to drift between the two of you. There would be the occasional call here and there, but eventually things went quiet. Life just got too busy. You were in law, he was in Hollywood and in between was Damien trying to hold something together.

Eventually even Damien stopped talking about Mark and just focused on running the city.

Finally you pulled up to your destination.

You sat in your car for a moment, looking up at the extravagant house. That uneasy feeling never left, that pulling sensation sent shivers down your spine. It felt like looking at a casket for yourself. Taking in a deep breath, you get out of your car and make your way towards the entrance, each step feeling as though it wasn’t your own as you draw closer to the house. The door was intimidating somehow, it wasn’t that big in your opinion, but you were too uneasy to knock. non the less, you brought your hand up, bringing it into a light fist and gave a knock. Almost instantly the door opened as you were greeted by a rather pencil neck looking butler with glasses. He looked like the kind of guy who would drown you in a tub or poke a hold in a cardboard box while you’re in it.

“Bonjour!” He greeted with a smile, “Do you have an appointment?”

you probably should have asked Damien if he called ahead and let them know you were coming. You shook your head a little, just in case arrangements were not made and you didn’t wanna be caught lying.

“AWW! I’m so sorry. . . Whatever it is you are. But the master is not to be disturbed with non appointed guests.” He said in an obnoxious and overly fake accent.

Just then you heard a familiar tone, a bitter one as well coming from the room behind the butler, the voice getting louder as the person walked up to the door.

“Look, I don’t want to deal with any donations, salesmen or journalists right now! I just want to be left the fuck alon-!”

He caught glimpse of you just as you did of him. The raging voice that rang out seconds before halt the moment he recognized you, stepping closer before opening the door a little wider to get a better look at you. The man standing before you looked nothing like he did when you two last encountered. His eyes and cheeks were silken in a little, his hair unkempt, facial hair developing into nearly a beard and seemed to have lost some weight. As for his choice of clothes? Just as poor. Nothing more but a wrinkled red robe that’s barely tied on. His eyes scanned you just as much as you were him before he finally spoke.

“My God. You haven’t aged a day, you asshole.” Mark muttered, finally giving you a weak smile before gesturing you inside. “Come in, come in!” He enthusiastically offered. At least he was happy to see you, which was a relief. Walking in, the butler took your coat as you slipped out of it, looking around the rather nice layout before you.

The balcony over head strangely caught your eye. . .

“So! Wow. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Mark spoke, snapping you out of your hazy thoughts and instantly towards him. You gave a nod and a warm smile as you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and a shake to greet him more properly. “Ah, God, that was. . . 4 years ago, wasn’t it? Man, how time flies when you’re going through so much to what life chucks at ya, huh?” He spoke while guiding you towards one of the visitation rooms, “Sorry I’ve been so out of touch. You know how it is. You going the opposite direction of how we use to be in our youth, and me just making matters worse. Personally, I think I make it more interesting.” You couldn’t help but shake your head to this comment. Mark has always been the one to justify his actions, being rather narcissistic as ever. You didn't look down on him about, not this time. The way he was walking and forcing a smile to stay on his face, it was clear he was trying to hide away whatever emotional pain was eating away at him.

You only knew what you've read in the papers about it all. How the upcoming divorce was effecting his acting and all that. You still felt terrible about missing the wedding, though now it seemed kinda pointless to have such regret now that it didn't work out.

He leads you into one of the front rooms in this place (The man has about 5 possibly, just like his ovens), offering you have a seat on the couch the moment he sits as well. “Sorry about being such a mess. A call ahead of time would have been nice, BUT since it's you, I can forgive it this one time. I mean, how often do you even come by anymore? Just give a little heads up next time, alright?” You gave a nod in agreement and apology, not really needing to voice how you didn't mean to be an inconvenience with an unannounced visit. That was something you liked about him, he seemed to know what you were meaning to tell him with just simple little gestures, both him and Damien in fact. It's as if just looking into your eyes tells them everything that's on your mind, which was very helpful since you didn't like to speak up very often, only when greatly needed.

“Well, since you're here, we can catch up more properly and forget about life for a change. Would you like a drink? Ha! Stupid question. Of course you would! BUTLER!”

“BoNJoUR!” The rather obnoxious butler said, suddenly popping up from behind the sofa the two of you were sitting in.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and get us a bottle of wine. Be snappy about it!”

“Bonjoooooooooour~!” He said as he slides his way out of the room.

You and Mark sit there for a moment, watching the heapass of a mean leave before tuning your attention back to one another.

“Anyways. . . It's so good to see you again, face to face.” Mark expressed in a sincere tone, taking your hand into his own and gave it a little pat. “Things have been pretty insane lately, so it's nice to have an old, non back stabbing friend in my midst.” That last part in his statement brought worry to grow in your chest, recalling how Damien assumed that Mark didn't want to see right now. Maybe there's been a bitter feud that occurred that you were not aware of.

Best to not let Mark known that this was Damien's idea.

You reassured Mark by giving his hand a gentle squeeze and a smile, scooting yourself a little closer to show you're comfort for being around him, despite the complete train wreck he was. Honestly, you've seen him look worse, like that time when the both of you got into a fight with a hand full of jocks. Those bruises stayed around for what felt like forever.

“BONjour!” The Butler finally arrived, shuffling his feet along the carpet s he approached the two of you, handing mark the bottle of wine as requested. The man looked at the bottle before looking back up to the butler with a look of grimace.

'. . . And GLASSES! Are we suppose to drink this with our god damn hands or what!?”

“OOF! Bonjour!” He spoke before dashing off in a rather odd manner.

You were rather taken back a bit by the sudden outburst from Mark. Normally he was level headed and was sly with his insults, doing such critical stabbing with his words with a smirk on his face. Not once have you witnessed him being so furious before. It was rather concerning, almost terrifying.

Mark noticed how uneasy you had become, seeming a little frantic as he placed the bottle of wine on the table and held your hand a little tighter. “Sorry! Sorry. It's difficult to deal with incompetent people these days. It's been nearly unbearable lately, you know.” You took note of this, how he became worried about scaring you away.

Mark was truly going through so much, wasn't he?

You tried to play it off like it was no big deal, giving a shrug and nod of understanding just as the butler returned with the glasses, setting them down on the table next to the wine bottle. With one last irritating 'Bonjour', the butler took his leave, allowing you and Mark to finally be alone.

The man reached over and popped open the bottle, pouring you a drink and handing the crystal glass to you. Graciously to took it from him, taking in the scent of the rich red drink before noticing how much more he was pouring into his own. Bringing your free hand forward, you tried to take tilt the bottle away from his glass. Mark pulled away from your hand and shook his head, not looking at you as he spoke. “Look. . . I know you're worried about me about the whole ordeal, and I appreciate you being here for me. But please, I don't want to talk or even think about it right now.” Saying this, Mark looked to you with pleading eyes, having another sober moment during this crisis was becoming far too much for him. As much as you didn't approve of heavy drinking with a broken heart, you couldn't help but feel a voice nipping a the back of your mind.

'He needs this. You're here after all. It's fine. . . I͍t᷾'s f̧ȋn̈e᷃.'

He's right. You both need to unwind anyways. You relaxed your posture as you raised your glass to him, Mark responding with a weary smile and tinked his glass against your before the both of you took a drink.

One glass of wine before two, three, four? Did the last one even count as a glass of wine since you never finished it and had more poured in? It should count as the same glass, right? The counting didn't matter as the night started to become a blur, a second bottle of wine being brought in and finished as well. Or was it a third bottle? You were not sure anymore, nor did you even care.

'Nothing wrong with letting go with an old friend. . .'

The night continued as the two of you became more rambunctious. Pointless jokes made and laughed at, tossing random items in the fire just to see how it would burn, flipping the table over, watching Mark fire the butler, you flipping him off after he drinks from your glass. Mark throwing an empty bottle of wine across the room, him with his arms wrapped around your neck as he sobs against your shoulder, you trying to stay up on the sofa only to collapse on the floor, another bottle of wine was ordered, both of you forgot that the butler was fired. Even on the floor the room continued to spin, vaguely seeing the actor crawling towards you and resting his head on your chest.

Everything felt warm, possibly from the fireplace, possibly from the body heat from the man who's weight pinned you to the floor, maybe it was the taste of wine that was still on your lips you tasted, maybe the taste was from his kiss, the firm hands that began to trail down your waist didn't hurt at all.

'See? It's not that bad. . . Not. That. B̠a̞d̅.̖ .ͅ "̂

(To be continued)

#WKM #Actor!Mark #Actor!Mark x Y/N

146 notes · View notes

burntpastel · 4 years

Text

late (ch2)

(On AO3)

Summary: Midoriya is acting unusual. Aizawa sends Mic to investigate.

Notes: A second chapter to Late, commissioned by Ivyblush and theDavynator on AO3! thank you again!!

CW rape, underage, age difference, teen pregnancy, lactation, trans deku

raping people is evil. adults who date and/or fuck minors are evil. dont do it, and and don’t base any real life relationships or choices off the content of fanfics.

18+, grapefruit, explicit, etc.

"Midoriya skipped training again today," Aizawa casually announces without turning away from the paper he's grading.

It didn't surprise Hizashi when Midoriya took a couple days off school and holed up in his dorm room for a while–or when he finally came out but barely ate, got terrible grades, and was often found puking in the restrooms. That's normal behavior after he fucks a student.

It's not, however, normal for these things to persist five whole months down the line. Maybe they'd remain a little dour, sure, but usually they bounced back by a month or so (if they didn't just drop out.) Yet, the bags beneath Midoriya's eyes just seem to be getting deeper and deeper, his grades never really improve (even with Hizashi padding them where he can) and he still hears Midoriya retching from the bathrooms whenever he watches the dorms.

"Oh yeah?" Hizashi replies in the same manner, hands busy with pouring himself a cup of coffee without getting burned by their shitty leaky carafe.

He isn't sure if Midoriya's just more sensitive than his previous students, or if it has to do with living on campus with him, or if it's… something else. Still, Hizashi doesn’t really love facing the icky aftermath of his actions (beyond seeing the newfound fear in his students’ eyes), so he’s never bothered to confront Midoriya about it.

He and Aizawa are alone in the teacher's lounge, everyone else having scattered to eat their lunch elsewhere. Aizawa stays quiet while Hizashi brings his lunch over to the coffee table and begins settling in across from him.

"What happened that night Midoriya went missing for an hour on your watch?" he asks before bringing his own coffee to his lips, watching Hizashi carefully over the rim.

Hizashi peels back the plastic surrounding his sandwich.

"He broke curfew, so I gave him a stern talking to." He takes a bite. "You'd be proud."

Aizawa's eyes narrow. He looks away as he sets his cup back down, fixing his gaze on the table.

"...Do you always have to go after my students," he asks, quiet. "You teach other classes."

"What can I say? I like 'em with a little muscle. Makes it better when they don't even use it."

Aizawa just sighs.

"Can you blame me? I was under the impression you had the same tastes, Shouta."

"Don't call me that," Aizawa snaps, then continues, "You're going to get caught."

"Hey, I think if he hasn't told anyone after five months then I'm in the clear."

"He won't have to talk about it if he keeps missing school. Someone's going to start asking questions eventually."

Hizashi frowns, because that's true. Usually he wouldn't be too worried about that with the addition of the dorms–no prying parents to worry about–but Midoriya and All Might seem to have a weirdly close bond, and All Might's really the only one out of the loop at this point.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Hizashi asks, bemused. "They usually get better on their own."

"I don't know. Did you…" Aizawa pauses, rethinking his question. "Is there a chance that he's pregnant?"

"Probably," Hizashi mumbles, avoiding eye contact by staring down the food in his hands. He doubts the kid was on any birth control; he doesn't seem very popular with the guys (or anyone else, for that matter) and Hizashi failed to remind him that emergency contraceptives were an option.

Aizawa closes his eyes and sighs, leaning back against his seat while Hizashi eats.

Eventually, Hizashi speaks up. "Look, I'll talk to him about it later, okay?"

"I doubt he'll want to talk to you," Aizawa retorts.

"Well, are you gonna ask him?"

Aizawa falls silent.

"I'll talk to him," Hizashi affirms.

Midoriya has a fairly solid routine of stopping by the restrooms after school ends, so Hizashi decides to wait outside for him. Leaning against the wall just beyond the door, he can distantly hear him heaving. It's pretty convenient, actually, because by the time he finally finishes up the hallways have emptied out. (Hizashi would have thought he'd take more care not to end up alone, considering, but he supposes illness waits for no one.)

Midoriya doesn't notice him at first when he emerges, shrugging his backpack back on as he stumbles forward in a daze, his face pale and hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

"Hey–"

Midoriya startles hard. His eyes are often dull as of late but they quickly fill up with fear as he processes who he's staring at. He takes a step back but Hizashi is quick to grab his arm.

"Ah-ah! We need to talk."

Gasping, Midoriya struggles as Hizashi tugs him towards one of the now empty classrooms. Either he's too out of it to think to use his quirk, or he knows better. Hizashi slides the door open and shoves him inside. He's quick to straighten up and start backing away, putting a few desks between them while Hizashi shuts the door behind them.

"Sit down. I just wanna talk." Hizashi pulls out a seat himself, figuring that if he's seated then Midoriya may be more inclined to follow. He does, reluctantly–eyes locked on Hizashi as he eases down into a chair a somewhat awkward distance away, keeping his hands braced on the back and the desk, like he's ready to leap up at any second.

Hizashi leans back, crossing his arms and scowling at the kid, like all this is his fault.

"People are starting to get worried about how sick you've been."

Instantly Midoriya's eyes drop to the floor, practically wincing. He makes no effort to fill him in.

Hizashi tilts his head. "Have you taken a pregnancy test?"

Midoriya doesn't answer, but the way he bursts into tears speaks loud and clear.

Damn unlucky kid.

Hizashi rolls his eyes and groans, his stomach sinking as he slides down in his chair. He technically knew his 'birth control plan' of never fucking the same kid twice was failable, but it had worked up until now (to his knowledge, anyway–not like he'd know if any of the previous kids went out and got an abortion on their own.)

"What are you doing, kid? It's been five months! Go to Recovery Girl–she does abortions all quiet for the hero course."

Midoriya's arms protectively cross over his stomach as he sobs, shaking his head almost imperceptibly from its place hung over his lap.

"What, you want to keep it?!" Hizashi gapes. "Are you serious? What are you going to tell people when you pop out a kid?"

Midoriya actually has the nerve to pick his head up and scowl at him through the tears streaming down his face. Hizashi snarls, before jumping to his feet and storming over to Midoriya. He catches his arm before he can fully bolt out of his chair, pulling him back and gripping him by the shoulders. That fury in Midoriya's eyes is quickly replaced with horror.

"I know you're not going to tell them I did it," Hizashi growls, "because if the police come poking around, you'll have to tell them everything. You know that? You have to give them every little detail or you're withholding information–which is a crime.

“You'll have to tell them how you broke curfew and made me come looking for you, how you failed to notice me in the showers, how you stuck your little ass out for me to see, that you let me fuck your mouth–"

"Stop it!"

"–and that you squeezed me so tight I came inside you."

Midoriya’s eyes squeeze shut, his head dropping.

Hizashi leans closer. "Are you gonna tell them all that? Because I will. I'll tell them everything–and if our stories don't match up completely, you'll be in a lot of trouble."

He's by no means unused to lying, manipulation or blackmail–yet, he sort of feels sick as the words tumble out of his mouth. Midoriya slumps back down into his chair when Hizashi releases his shoulders, burying his face into his hands as he sobs.

It's not nearly as pretty a sight when his lips aren't stretched around his cock.

"That's what I thought," Hizashi says anyway, putting on an air of confidence even as he looks away.

Discomfort twists in his gut as he listens to Midoriya's barely restrained wails echo through the room–which then warps into frustration, each heaving gasp Hizashi hears wracking anger into his very bones.

There were plenty of solutions to this, and the kid has the nerve to cry and blame him?

"You've got maybe a month to think about aborting it, after that you'll have to carry it to term either way," Hizashi says coldly when Midoriya pauses to catch his breath between sobs. "Does anyone else know?"

Wiping away steadily replenishing tears, Midoriya shakes his head.

"They'll know soon enough,” he huffs. “Are you showing yet?"

He can't see much through his blazer, but he thinks there's a pretty good chance he is; Hizashi knows he's been avoiding his hero costume in favor of U.A.'s looser-fitting gym clothes lately.

Midoriya makes no effort to answer him, so Hizashi reaches forward to grab a fistful of his uniform and tugs upwards, revealing his stomach. Midoriya weakly pries at his wrist in response.

Through his clothes it could probably pass for a little extra weight, or even just a big breakfast–but there's definitely a swell there compared to the lean stomach he'd seen in the showers a few months ago, poking out over the hem of his pants.

And Hizashi put that there.

He glances upwards to see the miserable embarrassment covering Midoriya’s face and, despite everything, he feels heat rush between his legs. It takes him by surprise at first, but it's sure as hell a better feeling than the guilt and fear gnawing at him.

It occurs to him that his once-per-student policy is meaningless now, and if Midoriya's gonna be crying his eyes out and risking getting him caught anyway…

Well, he might as well enjoy it.

Midoriya’s struggle becomes more earnest when Hizashi pops the buttons on his clothes open. He bolts upright out of his chair, sending it clattering backwards, trying to twist out of Hizashi’s grasp–but he has a tight grip on his blazer.

“No!” Midoriya cries so damn loud that fear shocks its way through Hizashi’s body. He claps a hand over the kid’s mouth and shoves him against the desk he’d been sitting at. Midoriya stares up at him with glossy, terrified eyes as he thrashes and tries to pull away.

“Listen,” Hizashi snarls, "it's not unusual for kids your age to get knocked up and it won't hurt your hero image much–but if people find out it had to do with me? Then you’ll always be remembered as the slut who got Present Mic arrested.”

The nails scraping at his wrist slowly stop as Midoriya's weeping returns, Hizashi's words sinking in. He stills, arms dropping to his sides as his eyes fall shut.

Taking this as bitter acceptance, Hizashi relaxes his grip on him–though doesn’t uncover his mouth–and pushes his blazer and button-up off his shoulders with one hand. He urges Midoriya backwards until he's laying on the desk, wearing a face of open misery as his eyes glaze over again–but that's not where Hizashi's attention is focused.

"Your tits are already gettin' bigger..."

They're spilling out over the top of his too-small bra, nipples peeking out from behind the bunched up fabric gathering beneath them. Hizashi bets he has to readjust the thing all day long. He's got red marks along his shoulders where the straps have been rubbing and straining to support him.

Hizashi's definitely doing him a favor when he rips it apart at the lacy seam between the cups. Midoriya winces as his only support falls away, his tits pooling on his chest.

"Heh. Are you sore?" he asks, groping him with his free hand, pleased it actually fills his palm this time around. The way Midoriya's eyes pinch shut suggests yes. His hands clutch at Hizashi's sleeves in some kind of feeble attempt to resist, knees tense around Hizashi’s hips. Perhaps he’s trying to prevent him from pressing any closer.

Hizashi squeezes and tugs his nipple and Midoriya gasps when something wet and white dribbles out. His hands snap to Hizashi's wrist to pry him off but Hizashi just chuckles and repeats the motion. Kicking his thigh, Midoriya squeals something under his palm as his tit squirts a solid stream this time. The moisture makes Hizashi's fingers slip away, but he cackles as Midoriya's face screws up, flushing bright red down to his chest, where his arms promptly cross.

Now that's a good look. He much prefers tears of humiliation over shame. His cock is already straining against his pants, but first he needs a little more insurance that the kid won't run while he's getting undressed

"You're only halfway through your pregnancy but you're ready to pop that sucker out already, huh?"

He pulls his hand away from Midoriya’s mouth and his head falls to the side, burying against his own shoulder without ever peeking his eyes open. Hizashi's hands trail down to undo his uniform's belt and pants. His knees tighten around him, but he doesn't otherwise react until Hizashi nearly pulls him off the desk as he's tugging them down his legs. He has to grasp the desk's edge to keep himself from falling when Hizashi forces them off along with his shoes.

He didn't notice when he was just looking at his stomach, more focused on his baby bump, but now he can tell Midoriya has put on a little weight. Even with all his muscle he was kind of a beanpole a few months ago, but here–his ass and thighs actually have some substance to them, pooling over the surface of the desk as they're pressed against it. Maybe it says something about Hizashi's perceptiveness that he didn't notice all this sooner… but, no; the kid never really filled out his uniform to begin with, so it easily looked natural when he began to, and even then it still hangs a little loose around him in places.

Hizashi can't help but drag his palms over his thighs appreciatively. His hips press forward until the bulge in his pants nudges against Midoriya's cunt, making his legs twitch and tense. He can see the strain in his shoulders and the uneven rise and fall of his chest.

"Gonna be good this time?" Hizashi asks as he draws back to undo his own belt. "It won't hurt as much if you just sit still and let me do my thing."

He plans on making that as hard as possible for him, of course. Predictably, Midoriya doesn’t try to answer him–just squeezes his eyes shut tighter. Hizashi kicks off his shoes and drops his pants, relieved as his aching cock springs free, while Midoriya flinches far too hard at the sound of his belt hitting the floor. His legs twist shut on what Hizashi has to assume is reflex, because he has no trouble prying his knees apart to put himself between them again.

Hizashi clicks his tongue. "What are you so afraid of, huh? You're already pregnant. The way I see it, you should just enjoy yourself."

Hizashi wasn't planning on doing much with his cock–not yet–but the way Midoriya recoils makes it hard to resist. With one hand on Midoriya's knee and the other wrapped around his length, he gives himself a few precursory strokes before pressing forward, burying the head of his cock between the lips. He watches the kid's body jerk as he barely suppresses the urge to escape, clearly expecting Hizashi to fuck him dry again. Instead, Hizashi lets his dick slip upwards and uses his fingers to hold it down against his clit as it slides forward. Midoriya's knees twitch twice as it's touched, and again every so often as Hizashi's piercings slide over it. He moves slowly, letting each one catch and rub over his clitoris, before drawing back just as slow and letting it do the same in reverse.

Hizashi isn't sure if it's frustration or confusion contorting Midoriya's face, but his brows are deeply furrowed. Once it reaches his tip again Hizashi presses back down between his lips, harder this time–threatening to actually push inside. Midoriya's jaw tenses in preparation, his breath hitching. And then Hizashi does it again, lets it slip up and rub over his clit all painfully slow, back and forth.

It's definitely frustration, at least this time. Hizashi has to laugh at the way he writhes and huffs on the desk in front of him.

"What, do you want me to fuck you?"

"No."

The way Midoriya's voice breaks over the syllable makes it sound hilariously unconvincing. His expression mixes with embarrassment while Hizashi laughs at him.

"Oh, we'll get there," he promises darkly.

He does his best to make it feel threatening each time he rubs up against his entrance, varying the intensity and the angle at which he does it. It reminds Midoriya to stay nice and tense whenever he starts to get too into the feeling of having his clit rubbed, legs falling open almost like he wants it. Midoriya's gasp fills the room wherever Hizashi does accidentally slip inside only to pull right back out, which becomes increasingly easy to do as his cunt loosens up with arousal.

Finally Hizashi draws back, because it's also getting increasingly hard to want to pull back out–but not before giving his clit a final slap with his cock just to see him jolt. He reaches a hand up to prod his fingers at Midoriya's lips.

Instead of opening up and sucking them down, he peels his lips back and shows him all teeth. Little shit.

"Hey," Hizashi warns, "if you don't want me to rip up your cunt again then you'll get my fingers nice and wet. No biting."

Midoriya winces. He hesitantly opens his jaw, and Hizashi offers some light praise as he shoves two fingers in. There's a pause while he holds them there and Midoriya pieces together that he has to lick them himself (which wasn't Hizashi's original plan, but that's what he gets for resisting.) His tongue is slow and reluctant to coat them, but it’s good enough once Hizashi presses in and nearly crams his fingers down his throat, eliciting a concerningly wet gag just before withdrawing.

Hizashi pushes his other palm back over Midoriya's mouth as he reaches down and shoves a digit into his cunt, making him writhe a bit despite how easily he takes it. Hizashi is quick to add a second once he realizes just how wet he is–much more than expected. He sets a firm but not quite punishing pace right away, curling up against that sweet spot with every thrust.

Midoriya squirms mostly in rhythm with his strokes and presses a hand over Hizashi's as he whimpers under his palm. He keeps his legs splayed open, eyes squeezed shut as his back arches off the desk, pushing his swollen stomach into the air.

"See? You could have felt like this last time, too, if you would have just played along."

Tears stream down his face and he squeezes Hizashi's wrist like it's torture but the way he cries out suggests otherwise, and when Hizashi brushes his thumb over his clit he's quite happy to rub up against it.

Though the muscles in his arm complain, Hizashi is happy to give it to him when Midoriya starts rocking his hips down on his fingers, silently begging for more. Hizashi's torn between staring at Midoriya's face and being mesmerized by the way his skin ripples with each inward thrust of his fingers. It's so cliche and filthy–the high pitched moans echoing around the empty classroom along with wet squelching and the slapping of skin on skin–and Hizashi loves it. It feels absolutely addictive with the way he's all wired with nerves that were frayed just minutes ago.

Midoriya's moans slowly become that much more lewd and needy, his pussy clenching rhythmically around Hizashi fingers, informing him it's time to switch things up. He withdraws, watching Midoriya roll his hips against nothing as his hole visibly gapes and tightens–practically begging to be filled up. Midoriya peeks at Hizashi through glassy half-lidded eyes, his hand edging down the desk beside his hip like he wants to touch himself.

He turns rigid when Hizashi grabs his dick and positions himself at his entrance, eyes widening at the sight.

"Don't worry, I'll let you come," Hizashi assures, intentionally misreading him. "You squeezing my dick last time was one of the best things I've ever felt. Like hell I'd skip out on that!"

He pushes inside before he even finishes talking. Midoriya's eyes snap shut as he sucks in a breath. Hizashi intentionally left him a little underprepared–not enough to hurt, but enough that he'd react to the stretch. He didn't want to take all the fun out of it after all.

He lets his head fall back with a groan as he sinks himself in. Brutalizing him last time was great, sure, but physically speaking this is much better, his cunt all slick and throbbing around him. Midoriya's thighs tremble around his waist as he hilts fully inside him, breath blowing hot and uneven over his hand. Hizashi savors the feeling with a few slow thrusts, watching his cock be happily swallowed up by the kid's cunt, just inches below the swell of his pregnant belly.

Just like with his fingers, Hizashi quickly sets into a hasty pace without any build up. Midoriya goes taut again, back arching off the desk so far Hizashi hears it pop a few times. Midoriya whines under his palm, starting out a complaint, then ending somewhere more sexual. Hizashi watches his body jostle with each thrust, his tits actually big enough to bounce this time.

He frowns when Midoriya bundles them up in one arm and lays the other over the top of them. He honestly can't tell if Midoriya's just embarrassed and trying to cover up–or if they're so tender that the movement hurts and he's trying to hold them still. A smile tugs at Hizashi's lips, and he's honestly hoping it's the latter as he finally removes his palm from Midoriya's mouth to grab his wrists, prying them away from his chest and pinning them to the desk at his sides.

His thrusts become sharper, snapping his hips into him to displace Midoriya's breasts as much as possible. His mouth falls wide open in a silent scream, the only sound coming out what gets forced from his lungs with each jolt of his body–his expression a delightful mix of embarrassed and pained underneath overbearing pleasure.

The desk scrapes across the floor little by little, and Hizashi just follows it along until it bumps up against the neighboring one and finally stops. He's panting, eyes fixed on Midoriya's form. Every part of him is so good to look at, from his bright red tear streaked face, his bouncing swollen tits that move his nipples in little circles, to his protruding stomach. Usually when he fucks beanpoles like Midoriya he can see his dick bulging in their stomach, but his is already so swollen that it just disappears inside him completely. A groan escapes Hizashi's lips, cock throbbing hard when he thinks about how close it must get to his womb with each thrust.

He pushes Midoriya's wrists up above his head and curls his fingers over the edge of the desk, keeping them firmly pinned there while he leans down to suck on the tender, swollen skin of his chest. Midoriya's breath hitches and he tries to recoil away, arching uselessly against the desk. Hizashi pays him no mind, nuzzling his lips and tongue against his breasts, trailing wet kisses across them as he draws pained whimpers from him.

"Stop–!"

He's rewarded with a ring of teeth around his nipple. Midoriya flinches hard underneath him, tightening wonderfully around his cock.

Hizashi hadn't expected to have such an effect with just his teeth, but he definitely feels liquid hit his tongue. He… finds it hotter than he thought he would. Maybe it just feels akin to the times he's gotten a student to squirt while raping them, especially when he glances up to see Midoriya's bright red face so twisted with embarrassment that he's practically cringing.

Still, he's not quite around to the idea of swallowing it. He lifts his head and lolls his tongue out, letting it mingle with his saliva as it drips down hotly onto Midoriya's breast.

"You're just overflowing with this stuff, huh?" Hizashi licks his lips in between huffs. "No wonder you're so sore."

Midoriya just buries his face harder against his shoulder, chest spasming with sobs and strangled moans. Hizashi flicks his tongue up his opposite breast and over his nipple, keeping Midoriya plenty tense around him, before finally drawing back, feeling an orgasm beginning to coil between his legs. He releases his wrists, revealing the bright red marks underneath, grabbing Midoriya's jaw to move him into a better position to clamp his hand back down over his mouth. With the other, he gives his nipple one final tug that Midoriya's too slow to slap away before slicking up his fingers again in his own mouth.

He angles his hips so that he can keep fucking him while he reaches down and rubs his fingers over Midoriya's clit. Midoriya's eyes squeeze tighter as his back arches off the desk, hands clasping around Hizashi's wrist above his face.

He comes in seconds. His cunt squeezes him as he cries out under his palm, hips rocking down on his cock. Hizashi grabs his hip and humps into that tight, pulsing heat with no regard for Midoriya's pregnant form, hips snapping harshly into him in pursuit of his own orgasm.

When it hits, it hits hard. He shoves his cock into him full hilt, pushing Midoriya up the desk an inch, and then another on the second spurt. Their bodies writhe against each other as Hizashi empties himself into Midoriya for the second time, filling up against his occupied womb.

As their pulses come back down and they begin to catch their breath, the foggy haze of arousal clears away, hormones dispersing from their brains. The situation dawns on both of them again; Midoriya's tears catch back up with him, having halted for his orgasm, and Hizashi's stomach sinks again now that fucking a teen he already got pregnant doesn't seem so hot anymore. He lets go of him and pulls out, and the kid doesn't even move beyond burying his face in the crook of his elbow as Hizashi's come drips out of his cunt onto the desk below.

His gut twists harder because Midoriya just looks so broken laying there like that. With his back flat on the desk Hizashi can see how much his stomach has already stretched, and how hard it's going to be on him during the later stages of his pregnancy.

The snivels start up and Hizashi decides–fuck this. He's not dealing with this. He pulls his eyes away to turn around and put his pants back on. It's not his fault the kid doesn't want to get an abortion and didn't take a Plan B anyways. It’s not his fault that Midoriya broke a rule and made himself vulnerable all those months ago. This shit is why those rules exist in the first place!

If Midoriya went and gave himself a lasting consequence to what was only supposed to last a single night, fine. Hizashi will squeeze whatever enjoyment he can get out of it while it lasts.

He doesn't even bother to stay to help him clean up; just starts moving towards the door, and he doesn't look back when he pauses on his way out to say,

"Come to my office on Monday. I wanna, ah, keep an eye on the situation."

#dekumic #grapefruit #My writing #non con #rape #long post #bnha #age difference #unwanted pregnancy ///#teen pregnancy #trans izuku midoriya

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ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is · 5 years

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1. I am an INTP 5w6 female and I want to know how to meet new people, it didn't bother me before but I had a boyfriend.of 1.5years and I now miss having someone in my life, don't remember exactly what I wrote but I thought I had made a good choice and was really hopeful about that relationship and I tried hard to make it work but I couldn't deal with his bs anymore, I did for a while cause I thought he was worth it, I've been trying to build deeper relationships but didn't care before so imbehnd

2. My ex wasn't extremely manipulative but he lied and hid things from me and got angry when I complained when his stories made no sense, I left We knew each other for so long and I couldn't deal with him not apologizing for his bs and blaming me for what he was doing, I just couldn't justify the relationship even if I still loved him This lead me to believe my strategy was wrong since I thought I knew him and that he was more mature than that, no matter how high the filter this could happen..

3. It's just so disappointing, you know? That people can be such assholes after managing to present themselves as the opposite of that for so long I've never really had close friendships except for my ex, and a few friends (I guess?) I didn't care much for this before since I'm alright on my own, but I found that I really liked having someone, so I'm trying to meet new people now that I'm more or less healing, but idk how to do it, acquaintances used to fall in my lap before but not anymore

4. I'm 23 yo, about to get my degree. I do have a crush on a classmate but when I try to picture us going out it feels awkward and weird since I don't know him very well, I need to know people well before considering dating... I'm just very lost and I feel kind of behind from everyone else since I'm super inexperienced (only that one bf, and it was long distance...) and idk how to correct that at this point. I've been dressing better so people treat me better (haven't noticed, makes sense tho)

5. People do seem to like me well enough but I guess everyone already has their group of friends and is too busy to invite me places often enough that I become part of the core group, but I'm getting there, a bit (I think) I've been going everywhere I've been invited with my classmates lately but they don't really bring anyone new, I've managed to be a step up from acquaintance with a girl friend, which is nice, with older friends the same thing happens, even if we come across their friends...

6. I've always had a hard time fitting in very well, romantically I'd love to have someone at a similar experience level because I feel like I missed out on being a crucial relationship for the other person, but my ex had several gfs before and I didn't care too much then but now I do because afterwards certain things made me feel bad, but I guess I could manage anyway.I also get paranoid when I read what other bs some people manage to do like marrying someone but loving their bestfriend instead

7. I apologize for making it so long but I thought it'd be necessary to give a bit of info on myself and my thoughts, my age, what I've been trying etc I just wanna meet good people at this point in my life and want some tips on how to do that without taking extremely long only for them to be assholes anyways... I think I've managed to make some more acquaintances but I've only clicked with two girls I talk to outside of the classroom when we're not hanging out, gonna focus on them rn-----------------------

(very long response ahead)

I know this is not what you asked nor is it necessarily going to be helpful or relevant but: I would strongly rethink your type. Ti-doms and 5s are both vanishingly unlikely to drop seven asks worth of highly personal and emotionally open information in the inboxes of total strangers.

With regards to the actual question, this is really not an MBTI question (more on this at the end) and not entirely something I’d consider myself an expert on. I very much hope I am not the only person you can go to on this because I personally wouldn’t want me to be my only source of advice on this. With those caveats, see below.

I think Tumblr (and to be fair some forms of media) portray friendships and relationships as an attraction at first sight/immediate connection.

This is fucking stupid.

Because I tie everything back to my personal soapbox causes: this is why I have such disdain for the anti-small talk crowd, or people who think they’re special because they crave a deep, below-the-surface human connection. Nearly everyone wants deep connection. It’s normal and healthy. It’s also an ongoing process that nearly always involves some period of time during which you and the other potential friend are awkward acquaintances who don’t entirely understand each other and have to talk about surface-level things. You can’t speedrun intimacy.

This is particularly true in adulthood. Children do make friends more quickly, but also children are weird and fickle and a friendship can be based on little more than sharing crayons (not to knock that, plenty of great friendships started that way) while adults have a much better sense of who they are and also typically a much more narrow definition of who they want as a friend and all kinds of emotional baggage to boot.

Essentially, if you want a friendship that matches the depth of a relationship of 1.5 years it’s probably going to take close to 1.5 years to get there, and from what you said you’d known each other even longer before the romantic relationship, so add that time too. Which might not be what you want to hear, but it’s important to manage the expectation. Basically all relationships (and by this I mean romantic or platonic) start out with little connection, and you become friends through building that connection, and you can’t really rush it.

I believe in “clicking” in the sense of there being an immediate mutual interest in getting to know each other better, but speaking practically, regardless of the initial chemistry you are still basically intrigued strangers at that point. All clicking does is provide additional motivation for that process of getting to know each other. And speaking from experience, deep friendships in the long term don’t always have an initial “click”. I’ve had relationships that were initially quite intense fade away, and others slowly grow from acquaintanceship into lasting intimate friendship even if we didn’t expect it on first meeting. The myth of clicking is confirmation bias - unless there was a serious fallout, you’ll probably forget the people who you thought you clicked with if it didn’t just work out, and conversely it’s not hard to look back through the lenses of memory and nostalgia and find a single moment when a friendship or love crystalized, even though the reality is that it was merely the tipping point after considerable energy had already been invested on both sides.

In terms of practical advice, finishing up a degree is a uniquely awkward time, especially if all your classmates are in the same boat, because there’s often a mentality of “we’re all going to leave soon, let’s stick with the friendships we have.” Others in your class may not have that motivation to make a close connection, and it sucks but it’s temporary. The good news is that the larger world doesn’t feel that way. It is a bit more difficult to make friends as an adult, just because you’re not spending time with people naturally the same way as you do in school, but meetups and clubs and social organizations all exist for this reason and are explicitly there for people who want to make friends. And again, it’s going to be a slow process. I respect that it’s frustrating having to start from what feels like square one, but it’s unavoidable.

As for dating, you don’t need to do apps if you don’t want to! But you’re right. It’s going to be comparatively inefficient. Particularly if you prefer to date people you already know socially, you’ll have to put in a lot of effort going to social things and building those acquaintanceships over time and you might need to ask someone out face to face. Inexperience is fine. Everyone has to start somewhere. The tradeoff is more that you can’t screen people as well if you’re on apps, and they can be kind of impersonal but you do get to interact with many people quickly on your own terms without having to go outside and with the luxury of being able to think up witty comebacks instead of having to chat in real time.

(I do want to counter the idea that people who use apps are any less deep or anything like that. Some people are comfortable with casual hookups and some aren’t, but many people use apps to set up a date first and see if they have enough of an interest to keep things going. As with all of the above, everything has to start somewhere and if you think of the app as a way to facilitate meeting people, rather than “I must make a romantic connection with this person tonight”, and steer towards dating vs. hookup apps/make it clear you’re looking for long-term relationships, you might have more luck. The point of the first date for most people isn’t to find a partner, though sometimes that happens; it’s to find someone you enjoy enough to go on a second date with and slowly get to know).

One final thought: all this advice applies universally but I actually think considering it in the context of MBTI is more harmful than helpful, or at best misleading. For example, you say that being a 5 you take too long to check if people are safe, which whether or not you actually are a 5 also has absolutely nothing to do with being a 5, and even if you are a 5 and this is a 5 thing, you’re aware of this behavior! You can stop doing that then! MBTI is not destiny!

Regardless of type, no one automatically knows what to say in every situation, no one can read minds, and no one has discovered the secret to always being liked and never being rejected. Type can convey talent or inclination but skill requires time. Extroverts are often better with people because they have to be - they aren’t as okay with just being alone, especially when younger, so they go out and deal with people and through that process learn to make friends. But they weren’t born with it. Sites that favor introverts and/or intuitives are terrible for a lot of reasons but I find they perpetuate the ideas I disagreed with above, that friendships for introverts and intuitives must always be with people who Click and Already Get It. This is wrong and it’s limiting. Obviously don’t pursue a friendship or relationship if you don’t like the person, but don’t write someone off just because you didn’t feel a magical spark right away. That’s not being deep and sensitive - that’s being closed off to new experiences. Anything worth doing involves real-world effort and some amount of risk, and usually it involves patience and time and awkwardness and uncertainty as well.

#mbti #enneagram #long post #aegeanfractal #answered asks

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misteria247 · 5 years

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Hiatus Decision

Okay so a few days ago I'd told everyone that my hiatus might be a permanent one. Three days of thinking, rethinking, weighing pros and cons of each choice I've made my decision.........

I'm staying.

I'm staying with the rping group. Because I've made so many friends on here, because despite them supporting the other choice I feel like I owe it to my friends as well as my OC Olidia to stay and see this thing through. Rping, despite my stress and not putting all my heart into it is still something I love and I've given up on so much throughout my life and I don't want to give this up. I love it too much. But, I've got to make changes for my mental health and for me to not let my rping partners down as much so! I first want to address the Olidia's depression situation.

She's doing better, she's eating and sleeping at least so that's a start. But she's still not completely there. And that's okay because with my other Muses helping her she'll get there. I'd also like to explain what she'd been doing for the three months before her nephew took over Heaven.

Olidia's been like a landlord for it. She stops by, does the paperwork with the help of Castiel and has the book of how Heaven works with her. She's also got a few of Gabriel's files and had been trying to search for Voluptas and keep up with everything else.

Now that, that was explained I'm going into my rules. I'm going to only do so many rps, one thing I noticed is that I take on too many at a time so that's the first step. Second, I'm going to do small rps, and put Olidia's arch on hold for the time being so I don't get overwhelmed. Third, if I must I'll have to drop threads at times..... I'll try to warn you if I'm getting overwhelmed and need to drop the thread. Fourth, if I need to take a break again like this then I'll let everyone know. I ask that you please don't get upset with me for it.

And that's it I think..... anyways I wanna thank you all for your support and understanding of my situation and I hope that my rules for myself aren't too much for anyone. I look forward to rping with you all again. :)

@samael-has-arrived @gabe-is-no-longer-back-baby @muted-winchester @mauismuses @collectorofsecretsandsouls @hella-aj-the-tricksters-son @deathmimedream @anyone else

#oli talks #ooc #muns ramblings #trigger warning #depression #Oli's character #I hope you all don't mind

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thestudyfeels · 6 years

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How to Get Back Into the Creative Process

A definitive guide by @thestudyfeels

If you follow me (highly recommended, shameless plug), you might’ve noticed that I haven't posted in, well, a million years. The reason being that for about two months I hit an incredible low when it came to making content. I had ZERO creativity and inspiration for quite some time, and if you're a creator, you might recognize that as the best recipe for disaster out there. It's finger lickin' good! (Wow, now I'm dissing KFC, what's this turning into, Wendy's twitter?)

As a rule, I refrain myself from writing posts when I'm dead, since I know without a doubt, that the ennui will automatically transfer into the post. (I sincerely hope that none of my readers are walking zombies with a taste for lifeless posts and aimless rambles. Signed, me.)

But the truth is, my life revolves only around creating and doing crazy shit so I couldn’t deprive myself of this litness for too long. It meant that I had to pick my shit up real quick and get my ass back into the game.

Which is exactly what I did. (This is how you clickbait, youngsters. Watch and learn.)

During my record-breaking low, I couldn't fathom the thought of writing because of the non-existent ideas. I really wanted to, after all I felt empty inside from not doing anything worthwhile, but the lack of inspiration was eating me alive. (Again with the zombie jokes. Sorry, lmao.)

As a creator, such experiences probably sound common. Allow me to assure you that it's okay to be completely blank. It's okay to feel like shit because you love bringing your imagination to life but just can't seem to at the moment. You will get back to grinding again. Never lose faith in that. In fact, I'm specifically writing this guide to help you get back into creating (oh, and to rant about how awesome it is and how I can't get enough of it).

[And yes, this guide works no matter what kind of a creator you are. Bloggers, vloggers, podcasters, writers, illustrators, editors - legit every single one of you who identifies as a creator. I got yo’ back, my Liams and Janes.]

Finally! Now, with the intro done, let's settle down (here's your mint tea and Oreo cookies—no, no burnt popcorn this time #DoItDifferent) and get on with what I promised. Drumroll please, for this marks the starting of a new era where you make a comeback in your field, better than you’ve ever been.

I'm excited to see you win.

Creating is tough. Truly. I find it funny how most people under-appreciate the Arts, because a) hello Monica, wake UP. We're making stuff here. Fresh, crisp, and hot out of our skull-shaped baking pans. Isn't that insane? And b) I doubt any of us would be happy without the sappy rom-com movies and mystery shows to look forward to, or philo books to engulf in a day, or fast-paced vlogs to binge watch or addicting gam- ok, you get my point.

Although most of us are aware of how incredibly demanding and magical the entire process is, we still beat ourselves up for lacking those creative juices at times. Here's a pat from my side and a reminder to NOT do that. Why? Because all creators go through a “dry period” where they feel like they're totally done and are never going to produce anything ever again. In fact, even pop stars routinely take a step back from their fast-paced lifestyles to restore their creative talent - Ed Sheeran being a somewhat recent example (and a great one, have you listened to Divide?). I mean, if they can pause their careers and afford to take a break, then so can you. So stop making excuses and take that day off.

You can also think of it this way: the juices dry up (stop sniggering, ya hoes) because you’ve been using your craft too much, too fast (remember, genius only happens in small quantities) but they start flowing better than ever after a short period of revitalization. So, if you ever find yourself stuck, gazing at the walls in despair, blank docs becoming your serial killers - take that break and don't feel guilty about doing so.

Alrighty, moving onto making that break productive and getting those creative juices back into us. Oh, and Monica? Wipe that stupid smirk off your face.

Now, I don’t know why you started creating (bless you for doing so though), but I do know that there must be something which ignites you and keeps you pushing, even when you hit the lows. This can be anything - nature, music, puppies, art galleries, your loved ones - absolutely anything that makes your soul dance inside and your face flush with pure joy.

During my break, I spent a majority of my time listening to mentors and reading non-fiction. And listening to angelic yet badass music (cough, Billie Eilish, cough). And watching sunsets. And taking pictures of said sunsets. And doing yoga outside while that glamorous sun continued to dip below the horizon. (And trusting all along that I'll get back on track soon.) All things I genuinely love, no effs given. From outside, it seemed like I was on vacay, chilling out; but from the inside, I could feel inspiration and hope trickling back in, my needle moving towards full tank once more.

Point is, DO NOT waste your break loitering about. It's fun to play and party, but the real disaster unfolds when you get back to work and realize you're in the same state again, if not worse. A creative break should centre on getting inspiration back. Figure out what feeds your soul, be it watching other creators, spending time alone, or having meaningful convos, and just do more of it. Re-energize. Rejuvenate. And revive your art.

Now that break’s over and you finally feel more in touch with your creativity, it's time to ease back into it. And I said ‘ease’ because see, the thing is you simply can't force this process. A hint: the more you force yourself for ideas, the more you start relying on your surroundings and other people's work and start losing your own originality. So don't push your creativity.

BUT, good news, if you used that break to rethink your craft, you'll ALWAYS come back with a bunch of ideas, which are much more inventive than anything you've done before. (If you don't, it might mean that you need to extend your break just a teensy bit more.)

Easing means getting back slowly. With consistency. Every single day, without fail, spend some time creating in small chunks. And you CAN'T say “fuck it” or ignore it and purposely start a new show on Netflix after closing that blank doc again in the next tab because you didn’t wanna face the guilt. That's a rule. Obviously, once you get comfortable with the process, increase your time and increase the number of “create” blocks.

This is your life, so don't you dare tell me you're tired or sad or can't make stuff, because I know you can. I've seen you produce magic before and I know you have it in you to create lit fireworks this time as well.

… And soon enough, you'll find yourself happier than ever, for you'll be creating again. I hope you'll feel proud of yourself, because I, for sure, will be.

PS: let's also talk about me finishing this post. This is the first one after my break, HOHOHO! *wiggles eyebrow, which doesn't exist* The girl's back at it again as you see, and I hope you're just getting started too.

We're in this together.

Want to read more? Kay, plopping down some related posts right away —

Read my last post: Biggest Takeaways from The Alchemist (book review, sorta?)

Mentioned: Ed Sheeran’s creative break of almost a year

Rebecca Green and her creative low (you see, it happens to everyone!)

An update chit-chat post by Rebecca on the burnout (if you want the entire story)

Interview Two: motivation to get going (talks about how inspiration comes from inside - me recommending ways to regain your creative energy won’t help for inspiration is different for everyone)

+ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box!

Well, that’s a wrap! I post new articles twice a week, on every Sunday and Thursday, so you can follow me if you are into killing the game & conquering life. I’ll do my best to help you in the tough yet amazing journey called life. ✧

If you want to go through my blog, I suggest picking your choice of post from my masterpost list! Or, if you want to read something insightful on your cozy afternoon while chilling under blankets, I recommend reading one of my interviews. Feeling spoilt for choices? Here’s another! If you want to implement the ideas I share in my masterposts by taking action, take on one of my challenges!

I hope you are well; stay strong and conquer life, my conqueror.

— Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

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rdmfavcpls · 5 years

Text

July 11th - Forbidden Romance

Category: Pokemon

Pairing: Lonashipping (Moon x Gladion)

Rating: T

Summary: Moon always wanted to find love, but not like this. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the enemy. She’s tried to keep her heart from skipping beats when she sees him. Why does she have to fall in love with the enemy?

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the franchise.

Author’s Note: 1. I am so sorry that I am so late with getting these uploaded. I tried to get everything done so I would be able to work on these as fast as I could. 2. Also, I am using the Pokemon Ranger rules for this prompt.

Please enjoy!

~~Story Begins~~

When Moon made the pledge to be a Pokemon Ranger in the Alola region, she knows for a fact that falling head over heels in love was not a part of the active duties.

Especially when she fell head over heels in love with a member of Team Skull. The Alola version of Team Rocket, only better dancers and a lot easier to forgive.

“Why do you always get in my way,” the Team Skull member that Moon would love to hate said to her.

“Why must you always try to bring innocent pokemon into your schemes?” Moon said back in response. “I mean, our lives would be easier if you quit that. If you quit Team Skull altogether, Gladion.”

Moon tilted her head to the side. “Not going to lie,” she said as she continued. “You would make a good Pokemon Ranger.”

Gladion snorted out a laugh as he threw the Pyukumuku up and catching the small pokemon. “I keep forgetting that you aren’t from this region. I’m not doing anything that’s bad, I am actually doing your job now.”

Moon placed her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?! My job does not involve throwing helpless innocent Pokemon into the ocean.”

Gladion threw the Pokemon towards the ocean and chuckled as the newbie ranger let out a scream of despair. “That’s exactly the reason why we throw them back into the ocean.” He walked to her and as he said the next words, he poked her forehead. “Because they are innocent helpless pokemon!”

He walked away and moved his hand to cover his face to hide that he had been amused by the Pokemon Ranger. Moon stood there with her fists clenched as her anger rose.

~~~~

Gladion let out a sigh as he faced Hau. He hated to do this, but he hadn’t seen his favorite Pokemon Ranger in weeks and as far as he knew, Hau was her only friend.

“Where is she?” Gladion asked.

“Who?” Hau said.

“Moon,” Gladion said. “She’s hasn’t been the Ranger to stop me. I keep getting this wanna be hot-shot.”

“Oh. She’s been in the library. Apparently, Prof. Oak asked her to help him with research and he has a lot of research.”

“I thought she was a ranger, not a professor’s assistant,” Gladion said.

Hau laughed. “She still is, but she doesn’t take on many missions. Why? Do you miss her?” Hau saw the red tint on the pale boy’s face before he had the chance to hide his face. “Ooh! You totally do!”

“Yeah, right, not really. I already deal with loudmouths in Team Skull, I don’t need to deal with loudmouth rangers.”

“Sure,” Hau said not believing a single word that came out of Gladion’s mouth. “Anyway, you didn’t hear it from me, but a white birdie told me that Moon is going to be spending time at home with her mother. I would hurry if I was you. Moon told me herself that she might head back to Kanto.”

Hau couldn’t even start his next sentence. Gladion was already on a Rider Charizard and flew off.

“Dude has it bad,” Hau said with a laugh before waving at Gladion who was already gone. “Good luck!”

Gladion jumped off of the Charizard in front of Moon’s house before it even landed. He barged into Moon’s house because no one ever knocks in the Alola region. However, Gladion really started to rethink that choice considering that he saw the back of the newest Pokemon Ranger.

When the loudmouth moved to the side suddenly and Gladion saw a book flying at him, he ducked.

“Gladion!” Moon said surprised as she saw the Team Skull member looking at the book that hit the door and dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry!”

“Is that how people treat their guests in Kanto?” Gladion asked as he looked back at the young female who he may or may not have a crush on. (He totally does, but his brain refuses to let his heart say it.)

“What are you doing here?” the loud-mouth ranger asked as he got in Gladion’s face. “Are you here to steal Mom’s Meowth?” There was a thud and the ranger was rubbing his head. “Ow!”

“Can you be quiet for five minutes?” Moon said. “Oh, wait! No, you can’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be stuck helping Professor Oak!”

Gladion blinked as something slithered by his legs when the man turned around and faced Moon, he looked down and saw an Arbok wrapping around his legs.

The snake pokemon started to rub its head against his leg as it hissed.

“Sun, really? Can you be any more of an annoyance?” Moon said with a sigh. “Actually, could you be any more self-centered? I can’t believe you forgot her! You know she hates being forgotten!”

“I hate to break up this fight, but can someone get this snake away from me?” Gladion said. He looked at Sun. “Shouldn’t you be doing ranger stuff?”

“Arbok, get away from him!” Sun said as Moon giggled. “He’s our enemy.”

“Aww. My brother’s partner pokemon has a crush on you,” Moon said.

“That’s...great?” Gladion said as Arbok kept squeezing his legs. “However, I’m afraid to say that Pokemon are just not the species in which I have a crush on.”

He gently rubbed the Arbok’s head. “I’m also afraid to say that I already have someone in mind,” he said before the words could be stopped.

“So, what brings you here?” Moon said as Sun finally managed to get his partner pokemon away from the unexpected guest.

“Hau told me that rumor was going around saying you were going back to Kanto,” Gladion said. “Besides, you haven’t been around to stop me from doing anything stupid.”

“No, but I have been,” Sun said.

“Yes, but you are too loud,” Gladion said. “I’m not going to lie, but I have been missing my dates with Moon.”

All he wanted was to get a reaction out of Moon, but he was not expecting for Moon’s face to become a beet red while Sun was a stuttering mess and didn’t know who he could talk too.

~~~~

Sun stood in front of the Head Pokemon Ranger Nanu who was actually laughing for once. Every time he managed to compose himself, he started to laugh again.

Sun crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. “You done?” Sun asked.

“I don’t think I have ever laughed that hard in my life,” Nanu said. “I don’t know about Kanto, but there aren’t any rules saying that a Ranger isn’t allowed to date a member of Team Skull. Even if there was, she’ll still be allowed to date Gladion. He’s more like their handyman and not a full-fledged member.”

Nanu leaned on his desk and stared at Sun. “So how’s the long-distance relationship working for them?”

~~~~

Gladion just said it as a joke, but since Moon’s face and her surprised look revealed that she has feelings for him as well. So, since she was gone, he started to plan.

He was a member of Team Skull and a runaway. She was a well-respected Pokemon Ranger reigning from Kanto. In Alola, gossip spreads quickly and secrets don’t stay secrets. At the same time, he wants to make a good impression on her too.

He looked at Type: Null and sighed. “What should I do? I know you like her too.”

Type: Null looked at Gladion before it yawned.

“Your answer to everything is to sleep,” Gladion said with a sigh.

~~~~

No was expecting the Wela Volcano to erupt. So when it did, everyone was there evacuating the citizens and Pokemon from the park and closest town. Pokemon Rangers and Team Skull were working side by side. Hau and Lillie helping direct the people where to go.

“That’s everyone!” Gladion yelled to the Team Skill members and rangers.

“Nebby!” Lillie yelled as the purple cloud pokemon went closer to the fire. Lillie went to go chase after her pokemon but Type: Null stopped her.

“Lillie, go back to Hau and evacuate. I’ll go get Nebby,” Gladion said before turning around and turning towards Nebby and the lava.

“Gladion!” Lillie said as Hau and Type: Null pulled her away.

~~~~

“Okay, Nebby,” Gladion said as he held the rare pokemon. “What do we do now?”

They were surrounded by lava that was fast approaching them. There weren’t any other surfaces for them to step on and the one path that was open, they wouldn’t be able to get to safety first. Not with how fast the lava was moving up the rocks.

Gladion looked up and around as he heard hooves quickly approaching. “What pokemon is still here?” Gladion said.

Nebby made a happy sound as a white horse with a horn came galloping towards them. A fiery mane went down the horse’s back and its tail was just as fiery.

“Oh, great. Our chance of being free comes in a fiery horse,” Gladion said. “Either way, I’m bound to get burned.”

The horse ran around Gladion before coming to a halt. On top of the fiery horse was Moon who looked at Gladion.

“Get on,” Moon said. “Her fire won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that would happen,” Gladion said as he took a step back. The heat from the lava licked the back of his heel.

“Gladion, do you trust me?” Moon said. He looked at her and nodded. “Then get on and trust me.”

Gladion swallowed and gave her Nebby to hold before he got on. He was mentally prepared for his clothes to burn, which wasn’t happening.

“Huh?” Gladion said in surprise. This didn’t make any sense.

“Hold on,” Moon said. “Let’s go, Rapidash!”

Rapidash rose on her hind legs and let out a loud ‘da-’ sound before they took off. Gladion quickly held on as he almost fell off, but he wasn’t expecting the Pokemon to go as fast as she was.

He saw the lava start to fall in front of them as they were about to reach the spot under the rock. “Moon, we aren’t going to make it!”

“Yes, we are,” Moon said. “We are already almost there.” She patted the side of Rapidash. “You know what to do.”

Rapidash let out a sound of agreement and Gladion saw two versions of Rapidash appear on their sides. Then she started to go a lot faster than what she already was as they cleared the lava before it could even fall.

They got to the designated site faster than a Tauros at full charge. The sounds of relief, curiosity, and wonder were heard as Rapidash came to a stop.

“Gladion! Nebby! Moon!” Lille said as Gladion got off the horse pokemon and took Nebby. Moon stayed on top and was rubbing the side of Rapidash muzzle. “You’re safe.”

Nebby went over to Lillie and made a ‘kee’ sound. “So, I’ve never seen this Pokemon before.”

“Listen up!” Moon said. “I know many of you are curious over Rapidash, but I must stress this. You are NOT allowed to touch her. She will burn you. She won’t burn those who she can trust.”

Sun came up beside Rapidash and went to pat her mane. “Exactly so unless she -” he placed his hand on her mane and pulled away as he got burned. “OW!”

“Like so,” Moon said. She looked down at her brother. “That’s what you get for leaving her in Kanto by herself!”

“So, she trusts me,” Gladion said as Nanu took over the situation and Moon got off of her pokemon.

“Yes,” Moon said with a smile as Rapidash nuzzled her. “I talked a lot about you when I went to retrieve her.

Gladion couldn’t help but smile back. He wanted out of Team Skull as soon as he could. He also made a decision that he’ll ask her for help to stop his mom. Then he’ll take her out properly.

Especially since their romance was forbidden...or so they thought.

~~The End~~

#lonashipping #lonashippingweek #lonasshipping week #gladion #moon #pokemon #sorry it's so late.#I finally had time to get these uploaded #Life finally gave me a break.

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