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angellesword · 4 years

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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (03)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4

Note: OC is a lawyer but the author knows nothing about law except the three law subjects she took last semester. errors. ah. there will always be errors here bc english isn’t my first language. anyway!!! enjoy!

Jimin wasn't lying when he said you were a mess. This was evident to Jeongguk the second he stepped inside your apartment.

Pile of cardboard boxes and papers were cluttered all over the floor, causing him to feel uneasy. The faint colors visible in his eyes didn't help to calm his nerves. It was as if he suddenly became hypersensitive to his surroundings.

He assumed that your house wasn't really that untidy, but as stated, the colors made it seem like it was untidier.

"Hi there, buddy." Jeongguk forced a smile at the cat glaring at him. He remembered Jimin telling him that your cat was a bitch. The fury pet was making this strange, scary sound. Jeongguk suddenly wished you were here to stop the cat from attacking him.

He wasn't expecting you to lock yourself inside your room the moment you realized that he was your soulmate.

He was so startled by your reaction that his first instinct was to run after you. The thing was, your cat was blocking your bedroom door—stopping him from intruding your personal space. It was obvious that the little animal didn't like the fact that Jeongguk invited himself inside your home.

Jeongguk didn't know why you were hiding from him. In your defense, you were embarrassed. What were you supposed to say to your soulmate? How were you going to explain to him that the reason why you looked like a mess was because of your demanding job?

Being a civil lawyer was exhausting. One second you're negotiating settlement with the other side's attorney, then you would just find yourself filing motions in court and of course, there were many instances where you're standing before the jury and judge to present a case.

Expertise wasn't the only thing necessary in law. You also needed a great amount of empathy so that you could understand your clients. You cared for them a lot; this was why it was such a big deal for you whenever they choose to omit facts.

You hated it when your clients were being dishonest, you didn't need them to be innocent. You only wanted them to tell you the absolute truth so that you could properly defend them. It wasn't like your job was easy. The fact that most people living in your world see in black and white was already a pain in the ass. Earlier this day, you had a client who was suing a businessperson for selling fake whitening products. She claimed that she spent a whopping two thousand dollars to get that fair skin tone. Sadly, it didn't work.

The opposing side asked your client this: how can you say that the products don’t work when you can’t even see colors?

You were shocked to learn this. Your client was subject to a color test for eyes. She said she could see colors when in fact, she couldn't. Actually, the only reason why the vendor sold your client the whitening products was because she also lied to the seller. The latter's rule was that she wouldn't allow people who see in black and white to purchase her products. This was so she could protect her business' image from fraudster like your client.

Things like this often happened in court. The one you encountered were usually easier to resolve, unlike what criminal lawyers face. This, however, didn't mean your job should be taken lightly.

What happened in court today actually took a toll on you. Your boss humiliated you in front of your colleagues, saying that he couldn't believe an experienced lawyer like you would make such rookie mistake. This made you feel like a loser that's why you decided to go home early to rest. You knew you couldn't work when your heart was this heavy.

You ran yourself a bath the moment you reached your apartment. Jimin was bombarding your phone with text messages to remind you that Jeongguk, a friend of his, was going to drop at your place later today since he was interested to be your roommate.

You simply replied 'Yes, I haven't forgotten. Stop pestering me,' to your best friend. Truthfully, Jimin hadn't shut up about this guy named Jeongguk since last week. He kept telling you that he was the perfect replacement for Seulgi, your former roommate.

You just shrugged it off. Honestly, you didn't care if Jeongguk was the perfect roommate or not. At this point, you would take anyone in. You seriously needed someone who could help you with the household chores.

The warm water grazing your skin made you feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you're off to dreamland; however, your little slumber was disrupted by loud knocks coming from your front door.

"Shit!" Your eyes went wide upon realizing that your supposed to be new roommate was already at the door. As if to confirm the horror, your phone rang.

Jimin was calling.

"Where the hell are you? Jeongguk is in front of your door!"

"I know. I'm so sorry! I fell asleep." You got out of the tub, hurriedly putting on your bathrobe.

"Talk to you later!" You ended the voice call, rushing towards the door. Unfortunately, you slipped on the wet floor.

You whined in pain. Luck was truly not on your side today, but instead of getting annoyed, you simply stood up and went your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking so I slipped down the floor and I..." You were already blabbering right after opening the door. You hadn't seen your future roommate's face because it was easier to lie without looking at someone in the eyes.

You didn't know why you told him you heard his first knock, when in reality, you didn't. You guessed you just hated disappointing people. What happened with your boss today was something you couldn't let to be repeated again. You couldn't bear to irritate another person.

You kept yourself busy as you reasoned out. You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jeongguk to see his reaction.

It was like the world stopped.

No. You did not see colors instantly. What you felt was something strange—mystical perhaps. It was just like how they described it in books and movies.

You thought people were exaggerating about what they claimed they felt when they met their soulmates.

Apparently, they were not.

You know the feeling of finally seeing the rainbow after the strong storm? It was like that. Except this was way better. Your young self was probably rejoicing now. Being able to meet and look in your soulmate's eyes was dazzling.

The colors were becoming visible now, it was faint—this was in contrast to the embarrassment you were feeling.

You suddenly became very self-conscious with what you looked like. You were wrong. Your young self wasn't that happy because she wasn't expecting to meet her soulmate like this.

You were aware that you looked awful. The bags under your bloodshot eyes were probably so deep. The soap suds in your hair made you appear ridiculous. The most horrifying of all? You were wearing a bathrobe designed with the face of your favorite cartoon character.

"Uh—"

You ran away, locking yourself in your room before Jeongguk could finish what he was about to say.

Your heart was beating so fast as you stared in the mirror. The disgust you felt intensified. God. You looked horrible. You mentally cursed the brand of the mascara you were wearing. So much for claiming to be smudge proof! Curse yourself too because this wouldn't happen in the first place if you only refrained from crying over your boss' mean words, but it seemed like you never learned. You just scolded yourself from crying easily, but here you were, tears were painting your cheeks once again.

"No..." Your lips quivered. You were stronger than this. You weren't going to ruin your chance with your soulmate.

Determined, you quickly changed into a sage dress. Your hands were trembling because of your new found excitement. You loved colors ever since you were a kid. The fact that you couldn't see them didn't stop you from learning its meaning. You studied good color combination before. You were aware how to aesthetically match the hues. For instance, you knew that you would look ridiculous if you wore a neon green shirt and bright pink jeans. You were always careful in choosing what to wear, so now that you could finally see colors without referring to your color palette generator, you were beyond happy.

When you looked decent enough, you decided to finally face your soulmate. The first thing you saw as you opened your bedroom door was Jeongguk sitting on your couch—this was a very shocking scene. No. You weren't surprised because he was casually plopped down on your sofa, what you didn't expect was to see Miri, your bitch of a cat, to be so comfortable on Jeongguk's lap. Your pet looked at peace; the usual hiss she was making was replaced by a silent purring. Her bambi eyes mirrored your soulmate's same big, doe eyes.

You cleared your throat to get Jeongguk's attention.

"I let myself in, I hope you don't mind." You couldn't decipher what he was feeling. Jeongguk's voice was soft, but there was no hint of emotion there. His expression was also unreadable.

Jeongguk tore his gaze away from you when he realized that you were staring. As if this wasn't already awkward for him, you went on to say something that made him more uncomfortable.

"I've been waiting so long to meet you! Are you going to move in with me now?" You plopped down beside Jeongguk, squeezing your body between him and the arm of your sofa. Miri hissed since she was astounded by your sudden action. Actually, Jeongguk was surprised too. Your couch was pretty spacious; he didn't understand why you had to press yourself beside him.

Jeongguk also didn't know why you sounded so hopeful. The sparks in your eyes caused him to scowl; however, this didn't stop you from speaking your hopeless thoughts.

"We could do a lot of things together! I had planned everything since I was young!" You giggled. You didn't know why you were so comfortable telling him things. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you two were soulmates.

However Jeongguk was confused with your weird idea of wanting to do all of this romantic stuff with him. The uneasiness he felt couldn't be contained anymore when you abruptly talked about dating—as in dating him.

"Whoa, whoa..." He cut you off, arching his brow and moving away from you. "Slow down, will you? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." You blushed, immediately realizing that you had gone too far. "I'm sorry I got carried away. I was just excited to meet you." You couldn't help but beam at him.

Jeongguk continued to raise his brow at you.

"Why? Are you really that desperate to find a roommate?"

It was your turn to raise a brow at him.

"N-No, I just..." You breathed in, unsure of what to say. "I'm just happy to finally meet my soulmate."

"Soulmate?"

You flinched because of the bitterness in his voice. His innocent eyes turned dark, he was glaring at you. Miri was startled once more. She jumped on your lap because she was getting scared of Jeongguk.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I don't believe in soulmates." The word 'soulmate' sounded so rough coming from him, making you flinch again.

Many people had told you that you were good at gauging the feelings of other people, this was why your heart skipped a beat when you saw pain and anger crossed Jeongguk's feature. It was as if he was betrayed by someone.

"It's the most absurd thing I've heard in my entire life. Only stupid people believe in soulmates. I mean—" Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He was so annoyed that he didn't even know how to express his thoughts without breaking apart. "It's limiting the possibilities for people. Why am I required to fall in love with someone I barely know? Why should I leave the person I truly love just because a person meant to be the love of my life," he paused, quoting the words love of my life in the air. "Helped me see colors? It's like forcing me to do something I don't—no, I can't do. It's such a burden. Love can't be bought. I refuse to be with people just because they helped me."

There was silence after Jeongguk's long speech of the reasons why he didn't—or as what he claimed—couldn't love you.

Jeongguk wetted his bottom lip. The silence was making him hate himself. He hated himself because he saw the tears forming in your eyes, an obvious sign that you were hurt because of what he said. But most importantly, he hated you.

It was unlikely of him to hate someone he just met—or to simply hate anyone at all, but everything about you was making him mad as hell.

He hated your hopeful eyes, he hated your beliefs, he hated that you were the person hindering him from being with Red.

He knew it was unfair to blame you since Red chose to leave on her own, but he still couldn't help himself because the idea of soulmate was what urged her to leave.

You were Jeongguk's soulmate and for him, it meant nothing. So with a furrowed brow, he stared hard at you as he said this:

"I'm making you choose right now. Either accept me as Jeongguk, your tenant or Jeongguk, your soulmate. But just so you know, I will never stay with you if you treat me like a soulmate."

His word stung, though you were aware that the only way to make him stay was to choose the former option. At least this way, you got to be with your soulmate.

The colors you see were starting to fade away and it was okay...

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #bangtan angst #bangtan ships #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook roommate au #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook fic

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koniginwrites · 3 years

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Captured (Dabi x f!reader)

T/W: blood, rape, extreme violence, kidnapping, dacryphillia?, spitting, misogynistic dabi

WC: 1428

PLEASE read the trigger warnings!

A/N: Thanks to the lovely @romancefiend and @doinmybesthere for beta reading

- - -

Of the things the girl never expected, was to be thrown into a fantasy she once considered erotic. She was one who frequently consumed works of fiction that contained topics of repulsion. Gory, gruesome, perverted and cruel. This woman would read endless pages of hard and strange topics, works of make believe, unreal. But to experience these situations first hand was a nightmare, rather than a daydream.

Pulled from her dream of obscureness and comfort by a loud metal door slamming shut, she awoke. Her eyebrows furrowed and she inhaled sharply, shaking herself from the pull of sleep. Though soon, a piercing headache caused her to slow her movements as she let out a groan of pain. Heavy eyelids struggled to open and her gaze met that of a rough concrete floor stained red with what was assumed to be blood.

“Wh-Where am I?” She mustered out, quietly. Exhausted. Her heart raced as her surroundings became more clear. A small cramped room monochromatic, stained with fluids from victims of whatever atrocities happened before. ‘What happened? How did I get here?’ She thought.

… I was just… I was just walking home. A strange man, covered in grotesque purple skin and staples approached me… I refused conversation… Darkness…

“Good morning.” a raspy voice greeted his new plate of delight. ‘Did he do anything to me? Oh god, what if he touched me? Has he…?’ Question after question raced through the poor girl’s mind and soon enough, panic set in. She struggled against the bindings around her limbs.

It’s just a bad dream. She thought as she closed her eyes. But the all too real tug of restraints reminded her that she was trapped. Bound and clothed in a sweltering room, she began to sweat. Tears followed soon after. So much fear coursed through her as she sobbed into the concrete.

“What’s wrong?” The perpetrator mocked. Black leather boots came into the girl’s line of sight, blocking the stains of blood. The toe of the metal tipped boot came in contact with his victim’s cheek, nudging it up towards himself to see her perspiring and tear covered face. “When a man compliments you, you say ‘thank you’ and smile, right?” The staples in his face pulled harshly on his skin as he curled his lips into a devious smile.

Maniac.

He crouched down, boney fingers brushing into the woman’s hair soon pulling roughly against the strands. “Right? Instead of ignoring me.” He exhaled loudly, breathing onto the girl’s neck. “Repeat after me, thank you.”

Warmth traveled from the scarred palm, to dirty fingernails and onto the scalp of the bound victim. “Th-thank you.”

“For what?”

“Complimenting me.” Her lips quivered and body trembled in the grip of her assaulter.

“Good, but obviously your attitude needs some correcting, right?”

Immense rage filled the woman as she did what she thought would get the maniac to release her. Pursing her lips, she spat at him, hitting him just under his eye. Though he only chuckled in response. A Cheshire grin formed on his burnt face, causing tension against the staples holding clean skin to deformed skin and he spoke low, “I can do that too.”

He recreated her action, spitting onto her dirty, sweaty face. For her, it wasn’t just the grossness it felt to be spat on, it was the sizzling of her cheek and the scorching burn withering away at flesh that the saliva came into contact.

And she screamed.

The constant thrashing and flailing against the concrete finally caused the monster to lose his grip and balance, stumbling in the fight. In panic, she forced her leg towards her attacker’s chest, landing a swift, successful blow.

“I admire your will to fight, but honestly, it’s getting you nowhere.” He picked himself up and extended his left arm. Blue embers for in his palm, soon creating a whirlwind of flames in color comparable to that of his cynical cerulean eyes.

The heat reached her ankles, burning away the restraints but also burning away her mobility. At this point, she was so consumed by fear and pain that the only sound she made was from her choked breathing.

“Time to have some fun.” The man jostled the weeping woman onto her stomach and sat on her rear. He analyzed her body, seeing that she no longer seemed to fight back and deemed it time to unbind her wrists.

Scorching fingers reach into the girl’s pants, hooking underneath the fabrics, removing everything with little struggle. “What a lovely view.” He licked his lips in curiosity; what to do first?

He landed two harsh slaps against her rear, keeping a hand on each cheek and slowly burning his print into her skin. Her muscles contracted but no sound came from her mouth. His thumbs spread her ass apart, and spat between her legs, returning to her that burning sensation. No reaction.

“Call me Dabi, dollface.” He spoke as he began removing his belt. “I wanna hear you scream my name.” Dabi stroked along your folds, in a poor attempt to prepare her, but frankly he didn’t care about how she felt, and soon enough penetrated her. Only her eyes fluttered as Dabi stretched her out, tired from the previous torment.

Scratches against her face from the rough concrete added up with each thrust of Dabi’s hips. Her eyes count the cracks on the wall, in the slightest attempt to take her mind off of the horrendous assault against her. But nothing could really distract her from the feeling of these criminal fingers brushing against her hair, and knuckles digging into her wrists as he pinned her down.

Once Dabi’s thrusting halted, he took time to massage the woman’s shoulder blades. For a brief moment, she enjoyed that feeling. Savoring the gentle hands of a monster giving her a small taste of bliss before violenting spinning her onto her back.

Those same monstrous hands brush the sticky hair out of her face. She gave no reaction as he resumed his assault, reentering and hastening his pace from before.

She stared into his turquoise eyes, watching his face. Grinning, grunting and painting. He enjoyed this. He reveled in her pain and fear.

Fingers traced over her clothed breasts exploring her wrecked, bruised and burned body aiding to his pleasure. Dabi ripped her shirt in half followed by her bra giving him full access to the girl’s chest. His hands continued to wander like snakes wrapping their prey in a grip of death. The pinching and pulling made the woman’s skin crawl.

“Ahh. That’s it. Almost there.” He mumbled to himself. His bony pelvis rammed harder into his prey, and faster. The girl’s entire body scraped against the floor as he reached his climax. “Fuck. So warm.” His words slurred and his nails dug into the woman’s hips, enough to break skin. Boiling semen coated her insides.

“Man, that felt good.” Dabi wiped away his own sweat as he remained inside of her, moving ever so slightly. “Maybe we should go for round two?”

Despite the girl’s refusal, he played with her body, twisting her into different and humiliating poses.

And he goes again.

And again.

And once more.

Smoke rose from Dabi’s body as the victim and attacker became sweaty messes. His final time, he finished while laying on top of her. Finally, he removed himself from inside of the girl to see his own little mess pour out. With a pat on her stomach, he stood up to admire his work.

She panted, struggling to catch her breath and focused on the ceiling. Dabi snickered to himself seeing the state of her pathetic body. “Ah, thanks for the fun.” He adjusted a couple loose staples on his hand. “I might keep you around next time I wanna blow off some steam.”

She rolled onto her stomach and attempted to prop herself up on all fours. Though due to her lack of strength, she ended up crawling towards the back wall. As she moved into a seated position, Dabi redressed himself. She turned back to see him giggling to himself, watching her struggle.

“Here.” Dabi tossed his coat at his victim. “Y’might get chilly. Keep this to warm you up.” Her hands ran over the fabric as it landed on her legs. “Keep it as a reminder for my next visit.” He winked and left the room, locking the door behind him.

His last words stirred inside of the woman as she threw the coat with her remaining strength. He’s going to do it again.

#dabi reader #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi f reader #dabi fiction

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

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I love your writing so much! If requests are still open could you do a yandere Kirishima and Kaminari sharing a darling, please? Maybe they come home to their darling who’s managed to escape into the backyard and just sits there knowing they’ll be punished

I don’t usually pair these two up, but it’s to work with characters a little softer than my usual preferences. That doesn’t mean I’m going to go easier on their Darling, though, at least not in this one-shot.

Title: Bloodless Victory.

TW: Mentions of Physical Abuse, Delusional Mindsets, and Stolkholm Syndrome.

Like all of the injuries your captors inflicted, this one felt worse than it looked.

You shouldn’t be surprised, honestly. Kirishima and Kaminari liked plenty of things about you, but neither was fond of blood and gristle and all the dirty, gristly messes their affection left behind when they were done with you. Kirishima would leave bruises, pressing his fingertips into your hips until your flesh was tender and soft underneath his hands, but he never broke the skin, he never did anything that would interrupt his fantasy of being your oh-so-benevolent caretaker. Kaminari didn’t pretend to be so altruistic, but he wasn’t any better when he pulled you into his lap and shots bolts of white, burning electricity into you until you were little more than a barely-conscious pile of muscle and bone draped on top of him, too tired and too sore to do anything but lie there and try not to notice when his hands began to wander. It hurt, but a few bruises and a patch of raw, reddened skin hardly looked like violence. They didn’t have to acknowledge it, not if they didn’t want to.

A traitorous, treacherous part of you wondered if they’d be kind enough to forget this, too, if they’d overlook the throbbing, icy pain of your submission and just be glad that you had surrendered, eventually. Immediately, you bit the side of your tongue and cursed yourself for daring to indulge the thought at all.

You curled into yourself, bringing your knees to your chest and letting your focus drift towards a new spot on the plain cement wall. Despite the lavishness of their apartment building, this room was barren, empty, little more than a conference table and a few plastic chairs, one of which you were currently tucked into. It was meant for staff, not the wealthy tenants they catered to, the same staff who’d herded you into your new prison when you emerged from the maintenance elevator, dazed and confused with rope-burns still visible on your wrists. You should’ve guessed that they’d been warned about the ‘vulnerable person’ living in their pent-house, and you should’ve known they’d believe the two Pro-Heroes with concerned smiles and enough spare income to rent out half the apartments in their building indefinitely. You only had yourself to blame for thinking otherwise.

In hindsight, you were forced to realize that, if you’d pushed, they probably would’ve called the police. If you cried and told them about the deadbolts and the chains and the abuse, they would’ve listened, done something to help you, gotten you away from your ‘boyfriends’ and taken you somewhere safe. They would’ve doubted you, sure, but you could’ve begged, screamed, explained. You could’ve said something. Anything would’ve been better than what you actually did - blinking and averting your eyes and nodding along until you were left alone to wallow in your own self-pity. If anything, you’d only reassured them that you were unstable, that you needed to be isolated and cared for.

So enveloped in your own thoughts, you almost didn’t notice when Kaminari came in, still dressed in his monochromatic get-up with a small, worried frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. His presence was unignorable, though, and as soon as you thought to lift your head, his arms were around you, pulling you to his chest before pushing you back, holding you out in front of him as he searched for cuts, scratches, evidence that something or someone else had come after you. He never really believed you didn’t want to be with him, he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to. “Are you hurt?” He asked, hastily, speaking too quickly for you to answer. “Did something happen? You look like hell - you didn’t cause any trouble, did you? Oh, fuck, how did you get down here?”

You opened your mouth, ready to either soothe his nerves or lie through your teeth, but Kaminari was already being pulled away, hauled back by the collar. “Space, Denki, give ‘em space,” Kirishima said, only letting go of his companion when Kaminari huffed and crossed his arms, grudgingly submitting to Kirishima’s demands. His gaze never left you, though, hardened and strict, standing in harsh contradiction to Kaminari’s unveiled concern. Completely unconnected with the taut, gentle smile he was so adamant on wearing. “Hey there, sweetheart,” He greeted, his tone smooth and even, as if you’d crack and shatter the moment he dared to raise his voice. “You alright?”

This time, you bit the inside of your cheek. Your tongue was starting to hurt. “No.”

They both stiffened, but neither did anything, only exchanging a wordless glance before shifting forward. They barely moved, hardly even taking a full step, but instantly, you were cornered, caged in place by two bodies you could never hope to overpower in a fair fight. Kirishima was the one to break the silence, placing a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. Whether it was in sympathy or in warning, you couldn’t be sure. “Can I ask why, (Y/n)?”

“I don’t know,” You started, glaring at the tiled floor at their feet. “Maybe because I was kidnapped, held captive and tortured by people who said they loved me, and after all that, they still don’t know why I might be upset. Because I can’t get away from them, I can’t even get outside, and whenever I try to, they hover over me and ask ‘what’s wrong’ and ‘are you alright’ until I cry or scream or pass out and believe it or not, none of those things are a whole lot of fun for me.” You paused, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You’d have time to be angry later on. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this goddamn room. “Or, it might be because I can’t even make myself escape. I don’t even know if I want to, anymore, and I’m beginning to hate myself for it.”

Neither made a sound. Kirishima’s grip tightened around you, Kaminari swallowed, but neither of them spoke. You almost wished they’d interrupt you.

“I’m broken,” You admitted, weakly. “I’m don’t have any money, I don’t know what you did with any of my IDs, and everyone I know thinks I’m in the perfect relationship with two great, amazing guys. I don’t have anywhere to go, and I don’t even know if I can make myself leave. I just... I want to go home, now.”

Again, a second passed in silence. You were beginning to think you’d have to repeat yourself when Kamilari broke into a wide, unforgiving smile.

Then, he laughed.

You were hauled off your seat in the blink of an eye, scooped into his arms and drawn against him, his face quickly buried in the crook of your neck and his remaining laughter soon muffled by your skin. Kirishima tensed, but he didn’t cut in, letting Kaminari have his fun, letting you suffer. As glad for the former as he was complacent in the latter. “Hear that?” He called, addressing his companion despite Kirishima not being the one pressed against him. “They love us, Eijiro. They want to stay! I was starting to think our baby would never come around, but you were right!” He sighed, straightening his back and pushing a light, hasty kiss into your forehead. “We’re going to be a big, happy family, just like you said. We can finally be happy.”

Kirishima didn’t laugh, but he grinned, a gesture that was almost worse when combined with how easily he slotted himself against your back, how guiltlessly he added himself to Kaminari’s bliss. His lips brushed against the nape of your neck, and he chose to let them linger. To ignore your attempts to lean away. “Things’ll be easier, now. You won’t have to struggle, and we won’t have to get rough,” He muttered, nuzzling against you. “This is good. You might not think so, but trust me, it’s a change for the better.”

You could’ve fought, clawed and bit and struggled until they dropped you and let you stand on your own, but your limbs felt heavy, your form dragged down and mercilessly weightless, at the same time. You were tired, and you were hungry, and…

And it wasn’t like you had anything to fight for, anyway.

You’d already given up your chance to run.

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todourouki · 4 years

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congrats on 1k+!! can i request for sfw #14 (domestic life w/ them 🥺) with aizawa, todoroki, bakugou, and shinsou? thank you sm!! i love your works :>

AHHH! thank you so much for this, it means a lot! and ugh this is so cuteeee!

Want to celebrate prompt night with me? Click Here.

SFW PROMPT #14: What would living with them be like?

including aizawa, todoroki, bakugou, & shinsou

living with aizawa would be so nice

he’s not a high-maintenance guy

he’s more of a “as long as nothing looks like a piece of shit, we’re good”

matching sleeping bags

the man adores his sleep, i’m sure we all see that

so there’s soft blankets spread over every single couch/lounge-chair incase the two of you decide to nap

every day off, you guys have a tradition on waking up the latest time you possibly could, cooking breakfast together and eating it in bed with a show the two of you are currently binge watching on the tv

aizawa isn’t a bathroom hogger honestly he probably doesn’t even look in the mirror as much as he should

he’s pretty tidy when it comes to leaving his shit where it’s supposed to be

mostly because if he loses it, he knows he’ll be too lazy to look for it and he probably doesn’t have time

the furniture is all monochromatic

i don’t see him as a guy having brightly covered couches in his living room

everything is neutral, black, or white

minimalistic king

due to pure exhaustion all the time, color is out of the question, it reminds him of his students and he hates it but secretly loves it so all of his plates are multicolored

honestly living with aizawa sounds amazing

“Shouta,” you groan, eyes snapped harshly shut die to the light tracing into the room from the now open shades, “close the freaking things.”

Aizawa mumbles right after you, leg kicking the shade he once accidentally lifted with his foot back to where it once was. With the harsh tugs done by his feet, the light in the room finally fleeted away and allowed the comfortable dimness takeover once again.

The Pro-Hero’s arms gripped onto you tighter, nose nuzzled into your neck and bringing your body the kind of warmth necessary within the cold room. “S’go back to sleep, kitten.”

You mustered a smile, eyes still closed and hands running through the silky black hair resting underneath your neck. Mornings with Shouta were always the same— waking up once because of his leg obnoxiously releasing the shades, and both of you falling asleep once again in each other’s embrace.

You felt Aizawa begin to rub your back, fingers twinkling against your bare back soothing you beyond explanation. Within minutes, you felt yourself losing conscience, and you finally drifted back to sleep with the man you loved cradling you with unconscious admiration.

living with todoroki is exactly what you’d think it would be

i don’t mean to say it

but ima say it

this rich bitch has a ton of antique and expensive furniture lying around

mostly because he loves using his dad’s money

you and todoroki are a weird match

because you both love the exact same things

so all the furniture in your home

whether the living room be one color and bedroom be another

it all weirdly goes together because you’re both so good and coordinating shit

like your couch could be fucking orange

and the blue throw-pillows and decorations you cover your living room with just make sense

just like the two of you

living with todoroki means you figure out just how funny he actually is

also just how dense the boy could be

like he’s so sweet but also a little ✨dumb✨

he doesn’t know how to use the laundry machine and he never will don’t change my mind about this

todoroki loved cold soba we all know that

so there is a specific cabinet underneath the sink filled with all the ingredients for making it

that cabinet has to be restocked a lot

usually on days off, shouto would like to sleep in but he knows he just can’t

so if you like to sleep in, he already went out for a run, took a shower, and made you breakfast by the time you wake up

if you like to wake up early/with him, you find yourself either joining his workout or making him a hearty breakfast by the time he gets back

living with todoroki is really sweet bye i’m gonna go cry

“I just don’t understand why I’d have to press so many obnoxious buttons to get it to wash clothes,” he began, his stoic voice staring harshly at the machine infront of him as you stared at him in disbelief, “it isn’t my fault.”

“Shou, you froze the entire machine..” You repeated, a deadpanned expression on your face as you tried your hardest not to laugh.

You knew your boyfriend wasn’t the best at figuring things like this out, he hated to admit it but his family had done a lot for him back home. And sure, he wasn’t a little boy anymore and should probably know how to work a laundry machine, but he was convinced it acted up with him and him only.

“It was giving me a hard time, I didn’t even realize I froze it until I realized the clothes weren’t spinning anymore..” The frown on his face was one you couldn’t help but smile at, the grin taking over your face as you chortled a laugh.

With your empty hand, you gave the boy a kiss on the forehead, his calculating expression trying to decipher the reason certain clothes needed a certain temperature of water. Moments like this made you realize just why you loved Todoroki so much.

bakugou

is a handful

that’s clear to everyone

but living with him, oddly enough, is not

you both have a specific cleaning day

every single sunday morning

and that same night included the two of you watching a movie and having loud in-depth character analysis debate every single time

you both have special cooking days (he has more but it’s ok bc he won’t say it but he absolutely loves cooking for you)

bakugou has been through a lot, my baby

so consistency is something he depends on

he nearly breathes for it

routine is everything in your household, being something you grew accustomed to as well even if it’s not what you’re used to

every day you’d wait for him to get back home on the plush couch in the living room

so that way you’re the first thing he sees when he gets home, as well as a platter of his favorite food for the night and his fav tv show on the tv

he feels like he’s walking into heaven every single day

and depending on your schedules, you get the same thing when you get home if he beats you to it

a show/anime you’re trying to finish, the food you’ve begged him to make, and your loving boyfriend/husband lounged against the couch waiting for your arrival

you both wake up early— sorry, even if you don’t want to

bakugou doesn’t give a single fuck, he will wake you up and force you to either workout with him or start your day with him

on his days off though, you both sleep in until the afternoon

there’s literally no inbetween with your schedules

you’re both either up and ready to go by 8am or finally getting up to brush your teeth at 3pm

“How many times do I have to tell you— the real villain was not Sharpay, but Gabriella!” Your voice boomed, staring at your boyfriend who looked at you as if you had four heads.

“Babe, with all due respect, you’re a fucking idiot!” He retaliated just as aggressive and firm as you. “How can you say that when she’s such a bitch?!”

The credits of the movie you just watched played in the background, popcorn kernels pushing into the skin you had sprawled against your boyfriend. The pink reflected across your shirtless boyfriend, his ears beginning to redden due to the volume of his voice.

“Gabriella walked into that high school and literally stole everything Sharpay worked for,” you retorted, the straw you were drinking from entering your lips as you took a quick sip of the soda, “that’s being a bitch!”

He opened his mouth, signaling you to throw one of the Swedish Fish candies into his mouth and you did. With a laugh, you continued to throw food into one another’s mouth over and over throughout the argument.

“Maybe you resonate with Sharpay so much because you’re both bitches.” He snickered, dodging a pillow that fleeted your side of the couch and into his side by your right hand.

A gasp slipped your lips, narrowing your eyes at his tall figure and shoving a candy down your throat after his words, “maybe that’s why you love me, cause you’re a bitch too.”

living with shinsou >>>> breathing

shinsou is a gamer idc

there’s a playstation in both your room and your living room for game nights

yes

you guys had a game night

every single friday you guys would sit in nothing but (shinsou’s) t-shirt, and underwear and play nothing but video games all day

you usually end up falling asleep when the sun begins to come up, always taking saturday’s off no matter what for the occasion

you both are clean

being too lazy just like aizawa to have to find it if it’s misplaced

the bedroom look the best bc shinsou gets tired of monochromatic things and you hate living in a boring setting

so the two of you’s aesthetic shines through the room

if you cook, then please know food us up to you

if you can’t cook

money is spent 90% of the time on take out

because shinsou can’t cook for shit i don’t care

sometimes people wonder how it is you both manage to go to work and have a coherent sleeping schedule

and the reason is

aside from shinsou’s clinical insomnia )-:

that the two of you are absolute dumbasses

you spend all day doing homework if one of you is in college

or doing the work that needs to be done if you have just a job

and after that?

it’s just cuddling, gaming, struggling to cook, ordering take out, and eventual sleeping when you both realize you’re both past a point of ni return

most of the time though, you both manage to sleep

it’s more surprising for shinsou though bc he could never sleep properly if he’s alone

the two of you live together in GTA

also, I canon that Shinsou loves watching The Office so you guys binge watch the fuck out of that

living with shinsou is living with a bestfriend that is a civilized adult at certain times that you can cuddle and make out with

a girl can only dream <3

The sound of the console played through the room, your focused face watching the screen in front of you intently. The feeling of the bed moving along side every tap of the controller in your boyfriend’s hands trembled your limbs, your eyes being too locked on the screen to even maintain a balance.

“Go to the left, the left!” You pointed out, your legs sprawled across your boyfriend’s chest as he rested his body horizontally underneath yours.

“I know..” His voice was enough to show you he was focused, his eyes barely blinking as he followed your command and moved the character closer towards the left.

As gun shots erupted through the room, all you could see were flashes of red across the screen and players who had been attacked in Shinsou’s frenzy dead against the floor.

Exhilaration ran through your veins as finally killed the last person, the feeling of his body tending under you making you smile in happiness. You had both been trying to beat this level for weeks and you finally did it, exciting you to no limit.

The phrase “victory” strobed against the screen, making the two of you cheer in happiness at the time being well spent. He landed a big fat kiss on your cheek, pulling you in by the string in your hoodie and pressing you against him.

“Let’s beat some more ass in this next round, huh doll?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, pretty boy.”

#headcanons #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #aizawa x reafer #aizawa x reader #todoroki x reader #aizawa #shinsou #todoroki #1kfollowersnight #heillysreqs

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shewhowillnotbenamed1 · 4 years

Text

@cayeeast 🥰 You are never too late, my inbox is always open. :) I hope Damirae?! I have to preface this: I apologize in advance. I don’t really do fics like these—this is the first. But I want to grow, be a better writer, and try new things. I have never written anything like this before, so honestly, THANK YOU.

Prompts

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

"More sauvignon blanc, Miss?"

A bottle of wine was withdrawn from the metal ice bucket, lifted by their waiter's practiced hands. Beads of ice cold perspiration were congealing, beginning to travel downward as Raven swallowed another gulp of air. Though it was slight, her grasp began to shake around her cutlery. She had done her very best not to look at the bottle during the duration of the meal.

Now it was practically in her face, sweating.

Her breath hitched in her throat, as she watched the condensation continuing a steady drip.

It was quite possibly mocking her.

The moment seemed to stretch on before veering into uncomfortable, until both gentlemen glanced down at her untouched white.

"Malbec, sir?"

"Please."

The waiter gently replaced the white before disturbing the red. He swept around the table to refill another glass for Damian, who murmured a polite thanks.

Damian fingered the long, thin stemmed wine glass and turned it towards himself in circles. Several rotations were completed to air out the liquor. He guided the blackened magenta beverage to his lips and sipped thoughtfully.

"Raven."

Though Raven didn't immediately glance up, she was focusing on her meal rather intently. She shuffled slices of swordfish steak and capers to make them chase her chanterelle mushrooms and root vegetables around the triangular shaped plate in different patterns.

Of course, the half-demon was sure to select the appropriately suited silverware as she did so. Her efforts were starting to slow, however, as the lemon cream sauce became nearly nauseating when paired with seafood vapors.

Did fish always smell quite so pungent?

"Is there something wrong with the food?" She refocused on the handsome face of her dining companion, flickering in and out of the candelabra light.

"No, it's wonderful," Raven insisted. "Really, wonderful—great... presentation." His emerald eyes parsed the perfectly placed parsley and the latticework of sauce that was now a soupy mess saturating a plate of parsnips and fish.

"Oh, well it must have been." Damian exhaled sharply out of the corner of his mouth. "But, I'll always say nothing is too beautiful to eat..." He drawled.

"I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought..." she mumbled, flushing a little more than delicately.

"I hope our waiter doesn't insinuate to the kitchen that the meal fell short of perfection tonight. If the chef doesn't already know..." He scanned the perimeter of the dining room, as if expecting to be ambushed by the staff or a number of dining guests.

"I'm willing to bet if it wasn't so busy, he'd be out here himself, demanding to know what's wrong with the food." He cut his steak as he reminisced. "Remember what happened the time you asked for salt...?"

"It could just be me." Subtly, she slid her plate nearer to the center of the table. "Even though, I'll never be fully assured that fish is the best idea on a Monday... Are you sure it's fresh?"

"Is it fresh?"

A part of her was teasing, but Damian physically recoiled an inch. To insinuate that he would frequent an establishment that would serve his fiancée day old fish? His face was drawn with his jaw so set, it was as though he had been slapped—or someone in the vicinity had insulted his mother.

"I called ahead. That swordfish was caught earlier today. They're in season, sustainably sourced, and delivered directly to the restaurant—"

And with a menu that read: price available upon request, where other establishments printed dollar amounts, they all but prepared it table-side.

"But... you didn't follow them to the docks?" She asked in a deadpan. "You didn't call the fishmonger either? And I'm guessing, you didn't stand in the kitchen and observe the process?" Raven folded her arms. "Well, I don't understand how someone who takes shortcuts manages to run a billion-dollar corporation."

Raven wasn't at all new to this and she wasn't sure she would ever fully get used to it.

But sarcasm always helped.

"I was under the impression it was your favorite... You enjoyed it so much when we were here months ago." Damian's eyes darkened and then shone, like a man accepting a challenge. "Have your tastes changed already?"

"It's just... It's a little strong—the smell." Raven cleared her throat with her cheeks draining of their remaining color. "It's much stronger than I remember."

"Tell me... Is it work?" He surveyed the tail-coated waiter standing at the ready and lowered his voice accordingly. "Is it...something else?"

This was meant to speak of their nightly activities, the ones that involved aliases, capes, and crime.

Well, the other ones that involved aliases, capes, and crime—no safe words.

Inwardly, Raven groaned, because once again she was reminded of how much harder this could become.

By Azar's blood.

"It's not...that either. My stomach really is too unsettled for fish today." She took the napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth. "Normally it wouldn't be, but maybe... I'm a little unsettled, too."

"Tch... Well, I knew there had to be something." A half frown stole across Damian's full lips. "It's me, Raven... And this is us. We don't hide things from each other. Not anymore."

"I know." She heard her voice wavering. "I know that..."

"If there's anything at all, you'll tell me." He reached across the table to brush her hand. "If you're unhappy, tell me. I'll do whatever I can..." he whispered, lifting his eyebrows to punctuate his next words. "And I mean... anything."

Now Raven couldn't contain a crude snort. "I know, Damian."

"We can stop by a jewelry store - that engagement ring looks awfully lonely by itself." She sucked her teeth in a manner that was less than refined.

"Shoe store then... You can never have too many pairs of those very similar—" Haughtily, Raven blew air up through the side of her mouth to ruffle through her hair. "—but different, black pairs of boots..."

"We can take a trip..." His voice grew lower still. "...have a threesome." But, that one might have been a question rather than a suggestion. And as he pondered his words, his fork went sailing straight through the remainder of his steak without the aid of the knife. "Well...maybe not that last one."

"You're incredible...suggesting a ménage à trois at a French restaurant? Coquin." The half demon shook her napkin at him. "I'd laugh if this fish wasn't making my eyes water."

"Well, I'd do anything for you..." he replied evenly. "If it would make you happy, I'd even consider thinking about that last." And Raven shot her lavender eyes straight up towards the domed ceiling. They both knew the truth. "Maybe someday in the far, far future..."

As if he would ever share her.

That was exactly right, wasn't it? As if he would ever share her, or their lives with anyone?

Why would he?

They lived on the top floor of an elegant building in Gotham with a vintage lift whose golden grills led straight out into their penthouse apartment. But, it could be argued that the building wouldn't have been complete without their elderly doorman, Tom.

On the daily, he hailed cabs for Raven. Semi-weekly, he handed Damian hangers of dry-cleaning that refilled their twin walk-in closets of the numerous suits, trousers, and shirts and monochromatic dresses, blouses, and skirts.

Each morning, he bade Raven good morning as she went off to work and each night he held the door as he bade Damian good evening, a spectator in the lover's lockstep.

Weekly, Damian and Raven maintained long-standing lunch dates clustered in his corner office at Wayne Technologies. Monthly, the couple attended Sunday brunch with the extended clan of brothers, sisters, partners, kids, and pets all assembled together at the Manor.

Yes, there were others in their lives.

Even though Damian would argue they existed more or less on the fringes of a tapestry, while he kept her framed at the center.

Still, he seemed to love everything exactly as it was and he was in no hurry to change it. Especially when every night ended with them tangled together in their king-sized bed.

Two.

Plus one dog.

Titus was the only exception. Unless things changed in the far, far future.

"Do you mind if we cut dinner short?" Raven suddenly suggested. It must have been abrupt because Damian seemed caught off guard. "I think I want to go home early, curl up next to you, and finish those final pages of my book."

"Alright." He signaled for the check. "I'd like that... We'll get you home and I want your final thoughts on the ending. They better be scathing." The waiter reappeared instantly and it was like he'd never left. And even though his eyes remained lowered to the ground, she knew he had to be appraising her.

Raven mumbled something about the ladies room. She considered splashing her face with water and giving herself a pep talk. But to what end? The evening had already gone array. Something unexpected had cropped up.

Unexpected.

How was she supposed to tell him this?

Damian was a planner and for the most part, so was she. They didn't do unexpected.

"Actually, I'm going to grab my coat."

She excused herself and placed her napkin next to the untouched glass of wine. Her feet were pinched tighter in the heels with every step towards the exit. Raven followed the partition around the perimeter of the dining room, arriving at the stairs to the entrance hall.

As she waited in the queue for her coat, her eyes wandered past the sweeping architecture and up the wrap around staircase, where Damian was probably talking to the head chef and the owner. Just as he predicted.

She handed over her ticket, her heart leaping towards her chest as the end of the evening dawned on her. And as Raven grabbed the coat, she wanted to whirl around in her uncomfortable heels and march back up those stairs. Uncaring of her rudeness, she'd steal Damian away, tug him towards the hallway with the row of chandeliers and kiss him.

And tell him absolutely everything.

She would tell him why La Chandelle wasn't at all appealing tonight. She would tell him why she'd suggested going out to dinner in the first place. She would tell him why things had changed so suddenly.

And why everything could.

Instead, she slunk away. Out of the restaurant. Onward. The best she could do now was hope: hope they could get home, hope she could get out of these heels as soon as she could. And then, Raven would figure out how to tell him tomorrow.

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

"Raven?"

Damian was racing down the stone front steps of the restaurant to meet her at the curb.

"There you are." He was hurriedly slipping a pea coat over his suit jacket and he sounded nearly breathless. "Where did you go?"

"The coat check. Did you get the car?" Her voice sounded small and defeated. "I really, really want to get home..."

"I can see that," He deadpanned. "But that's not what I meant and we both know that." His brown-black brows began to knit together. "You were somewhere else for most of the evening. I know when you slip into your mind fortress and this is different from that. So where did you go, Raven?"

She swallowed and held out her hand for him to take. They walked a few steps in silence, turning towards a side street. The sound of laughter, music, and chatter faded away and for the first time all evening, she felt like she could finally think. Raven exhaled, deciding this was far enough.

"Damian, when I asked about dinner," she began. "I wasn't expecting this... I figured we were going somewhere with a little less wine and a little less fish—less wine cooked into fish..."

He blinked, processing slowly with his hands in his pockets, his head pointed down towards the cobblestone street, coated in a mixture of oil and water. It had to have rained recently. "Well, it's not too late, we can go somewhere else—nothing French, I promise."

He licked his lips before he continued, probably sensing her apprehension. "We can go to that noodle place and ask for two pots of oolong tea instead of the usual one... Or we can just grab tea?" He offered. "But if you're too tired, we can always make it at home. I'll make yours with the biggest, widest mug and saucer we have."

"So you're just...not going to give up on tonight, are you?" Raven murmured, her lavender hair moving as she shook her head from side to side, as if wondering who this man was.

"No, I don't think I will." A smirk started up on his face. "That's the thing about having a fiancée. You can't get rid of me that easily." He tapped her cheek good-naturedly and ghosted over her forehead with his lips. "I'm always going to be here."

"Didn't we...just get engaged?"

"Is that what this is about...?" Her husband-to-be searched every single inch and orifice on her face. "We can slow things down or postpone the wedding for a few months. The last thing I want you is for you to be stressed about this."

"What I mean is..." She ran a hand across her damp forehead. "Gods, I had this whole speech planned—how I was going to tell you..." Raven's unease fell away when she felt warmth radiating in waves, like he was lending her strength.

"Anything," he whispered. "You can tell me anything." He placed his arms on her shoulders.

Raven took a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, and—

"I'm pregnant."

The words froze suspended before them in midair. Damian continued to stare at her, but without blinking. Then, Raven nodded. And then Damian started to nod too.

She couldn't believe she said it aloud; she couldn't believe that it even happened. "I know it should be impossible... And not just that it's too soon."

"You're..." Damian breathed. "You're pregnant."

And he was taking her hands with his own to squeeze them tight. He started to smile—not just smile, he was beaming in a way Raven had only seen once before: when she said yes. This was more than elation, he was in absolute awe of her. He lifted her from the rain-soaked street in a generous hug to sweep her right off her feet.

Damian was holding her, lifting her. Supporting her from below. He was staring up, as his breath streamed sweet steam swirling against the seam of her lips. From somewhere inside blooming outward, was a warmth that no amount of healing or surge of power or strike of hellfire could ever compare.

And he too was giving himself over to this sensation.

With fingers gliding through his hair, eyes welling emotion, she nodded again. And she wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew closer to connect. Deeply, gently, then sweetly, they kissed into the night.

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

Damian feathered his lips over hers, placing her gingerly onto her feet. And he was grinning madly at her. Then, his grin slid down a little. And then a lot.

His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. He started to talk and stopped. Started and stopped.

"The wine—"

"The fish—"

He ran a hand down his face while he replayed the events of tonight. "I'm such a goddamned idiot. I'm so sorry, Raven."

"It was a nice meal. I had a great time. So, I couldn't eat anything or drink anything—so what?" Raven chuckled. Whatever cruel sense of irony there was in the world, it was a wonderful night. "You know, it's actually hilarious in hindsight, and now we have a funny story to tell our friends... A-and our—our—"

She was enveloped by the warmest, safest embrace Damian could manage as he was trembling. He rocked her and held her tight, inhaling deeper and exhaling harder until they both relaxed. "I am sorry. I should have sensed something more was going on."

"Well, neither of us thought this was even possible. Up until three days ago, I didn't know it was," Raven blurted. And it felt so good to blurt around him again. "We live together. I could have said it at breakfast. Or at the movies on Sunday... When we were in the shower together, last night. I'm the idiot. "

"The shower..." he repeated. "So that's why you were a little touchy about your body." She groaned loudly—this was not happening. "Raven, you've got absolutely nothing to worry about," Damian insisted. "And besides, you're not even showing yet."

"That's what you think," she grumbled.

His lips curled up. "Habibti." Raven raised an eyebrow. She knew as well as he did, that he had better choose that next sentence very carefully. "Habibti... you've always had an aura glowing about you, only now it's just going to grow brighter."

"Pfft," Raven muttered. "Right. As I grow bigger and rounder."

"You know what, yes," he scoffed. "You will get bigger and I don't care. For that matter, neither should you." Gingerly tilted her chin towards him. The way he was gazing at her, with unconditional love, understanding. "You'll be just as beautiful—equally exquisite."

Who could ever doubt Damian?

"And you'll be even more sensitive in all the right places." His low voice was filled with the darkest promises of sin. "I can hardly wait."

"You're dangerous," Raven murmured, knowing she was turning pink.

"Dangerous?" His nose traced the curve of her neck, as the skin shivered.

"As if you didn't know," she said flatly. "It's probably how you managed to conceive with a half-demon in the first place."

She felt him chuckle into her skin, then it morphed into something like a groan. "So, I botched dinner... And sex in the shower... I should have drawn you a nice, hot soak in the tub... Gone down on you for an hour at least...gone a few blocks past the park to grab some slices of 99 cent pizza..."

"How did you know about the pizza?" Raven's eyes widened on her flushed face. "Did Tom tell you?" Whenever Raven said she was going to 'feed the pigeons in the park', what it really meant was she was going to cut through the park to grab a slice of the cheapest pizza she could get her hands on.

So much for the code.

"You actually thought that was a secret?" And when Damian rolled his eyes, he looked less worried and more like his usual surly self. "Please. I've seen the napkins and the pathetic excuses for paper plates... Really, I should have known something was up, there were a few more than usual."

Through the ovens of pizza and pregnancy, he knew and he loved her.

And Raven threw herself forward and held him tightly to her. "You're sort of perfect, you know that?" she mumbled into the hard chest, smelling the usual amber and spiced apricot. She lifted her head and he brushed an errant strand of lavender from her eyes. "I don't want to cut tonight short. Actually... I kind of want frozen yogurt."

"Fro-yo it is."

And as they walked, he bent his head towards her. He touched her face and murmured, "I...can't believe you're carrying my child..."

Damian began to kiss her so avidly, so impatiently, they had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. She was moaning and pulling pomegranate and malbec from his lips until they were both breathless.

Damian gave her a final peck and they walked back to the restaurant. It was all such a daze, Raven barely remembered him asking the valet to bring their car around. She made a motion towards the door and she noticed he'd already held the passenger side ajar for her.

"I can still do that myself."

"Hmm..." He stared off into the distance with a vague smile, as though contemplating their future. "You're going to fight me at every turn aren't you?"

"No," Raven said quickly. His eyes flickered faintly with amusement. "Not frozen yogurt—I want ice cream. Real, honest-to-goodness, ice cream made with cream, and all the toppings. Whipped cream, hot fudge..."

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

"Birdie's Diner?"

"Ignore the name, it's a good restaurant. I used to come here all the time, even before we were—" Raven was trying to pull his fingers aside to see his flushed face lit by the bright neon sign. "All diners serve eggs, alright? I'm sure that's all it means."

"And that's the only thing that drew you here?"

He hung his head in defeat before holding the door. "After you."

There were low lamps hanging over the booths and classic rock stringing out of a jukebox in the corner. Raven hadn't been to a diner like this one in well, ever. The hostess handed over two laminated menus and told them to seat themselves. So Raven sat in a red vinyl booth in the back corner, and very discreetly, slipped off her heels.

Instantly, it felt much homier than La Chandelle.

"Raven, we're getting you the best OB in Gotham—that's non-negotiable," Damian was saying. One coffee down and he picked up exactly where he'd left off in the car, driving and planning particulars. "Or Kori can recommend us hers - they're probably accustomed to working with unique cases."

Demonic blood or not, Raven sincerely doubted there was any OB-GYN in the city that wouldn't pass off a patient or two on a colleague, to quite literally, bag a Wayne baby.

The caffeine had fully set in because he was drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the table while he spoke. "It'll cost us another Sunday morning, because you know Kori will want to do an extended brunch when we tell her and Dick the news."

And the second they told her, Raven would promptly conjure up an extra-strength, soundproof barrier around her cellphone to contain the joyous shrieks. And she'd probably have to buy a new phone.

"But it'll be worth it... You know what, it's not too late, I can probably call Dick right now." His left hand darted towards his pocket.

"No. No, you won't." She placed her hand over his. "We'll do it in the morning. Tonight, you're going to sit here with me and eat ice cream, okay?" Then, her ears perked up in a way that Titus would have been proud of. Hearing the sound of a whipped cream dispenser, behind the diner counter, she was almost gleeful. Her ice cream was in transit and was arriving on a round, plastic serving tray.

"Here ya go, sweethearts." A waffle-printed glass dish and two spoons were deposited onto the smooth, scrubbed surface between them. "Enjoy."

"Thank you." She smiled back at the kindly woman in the light blue waitress uniform, with a name tag that read Shirley.

Cookies and cream on a bed of bananas, crushed oreos. Whipped cream and hot fudge. Even one of those radioactive-red cherries on top. And it was absolutely wonderful. She passed Damian one of the long, thin-handled spoons, which they both knew was ill-suited for ice cream. According to Alfred, it was technically for iced tea, but appropriate cutlery was far from her mind. She tapped her spoon to his.

Cheers.

Raven dug in and moaned. In a word it was: heavenly, and far better than she could remember of ice cream. Six more bites and she could just imagine the tip of her spoon about to hit the bottom of her half. That cherry was hers.

"Hey Damian," she nudged his spoon with her own. "Now you're not eating."

"I was thinking..."

"You can think later... You've done more than enough." They would deal with the rest tomorrow. For now, she chose to think of this as a little celebration of the news—just between them.

"Come on, don't let me eat this alone... Sympathy weight starts tonight." She swallowed another spoonful while he glowered at her. And Raven knew full well he'd already had an entire steak earlier. "Don't worry about abs, your aura will just glow brighter."

"Tch—I wonder what genius said that..."

Raven snorted, but didn't argue. In fact, she was absolutely fine with riding Damian's abs—and hard body—straight into the next two trimesters.

"But I have to agree about one thing." Damian drew up his thumb, using it to wipe a smudge of whipped cream from her upper lip. "There is something about real cream..." He held her gaze as he licked his finger slowly.

The blood in Raven's core was warming, the temperature forming liquid fuel for an ache of a different kind. Officially, they had been together for over a year. And this man was now her fiancée. How did he always manage to turn her into some sort of sticky mess?

It had to be unnatural because it was utterly unfair.

Not so subtly, Raven tilted her head at the space next to her. And Damian joined her on the other side of the booth. The diner and the ice cream were so much better with his thigh lined against hers.

"Raven, can I...?" He hesitated, waiting for her approval. He held his hand up to her stomach.

"Of course you can."

Softly, he stroked the skin over her shirt, where the tiny swell would eventually grow. "Raven," he whispered at last, and she opened her eyes. "I want us to take that trip."

"A trip?" Her eyes were so wide only a sliver of purple remained. "A moment ago, you were talking about baby-proofing the apartment." He seemed unfazed. "Nannies? Au pairs? Daycare? What happened to buying every pregnancy and parenting guide our devices will permit? We can't take a trip, wouldn't that be an irresponsible start?"

"We can make time for something important like this," he insisted. "It could be good for you. And for us."

"Why in the name of Azar and all her disciples would this be a good idea?"

"Hear me out... A mother and father-to-be take a trip before the baby actually comes—a baby-moon. That's what they're called," Damian murmured. "I propose we take one, before our lives, and bodies change." He spooned a dollop of whipped cream and slid it between his lips. "What do you think?

"Oh..."

"We don't have to..." He said quickly and dropped the spoon in the dish.

"I think...it could be an interesting idea."

"If you think it's not for us," Damian reached for her and stroked her hair calmly. "I understand."

"No—Damian—we should do this." She searched his eyes. "I want to do this with you."

"Yes." Damian kissed the top of her head. "Just you and me, Raven. We can go anywhere you want."

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mementomorimissy · 3 years

Text

Drunken Truths

After having some wine and enjoying themselves, Mobius reveals how he truly feels about Loki. Loki does not take the news well.

Had it been a day? Three? Seven? Loki had not gotten used to how time worked in the Time Variance Authority. He had yet to sleep, so it could have been only a few hours for all he knew. It didn’t matter anyway. He could no longer return to a home that had been destroyed. A world he helped to destroy.

All he could do was work on the ridiculous case of finding his own variant until he knew enough to take over the Agency. Even though this version of himself could not have been as skilled or intelligent as Loki, it was proving to be harder than he expected. It might have been a variant, but it was still a Loki. There had to be something.

Mobius sat across the table from Loki. The files became a jumbled mess between them as they dismissed anything irrelevant. Some agents passed by them, but they were all busy in their own worlds. The only thing that mattered around the table was Loki and Mobius. They occasionally made small talk, but they were both focused on their own documents. Someone had to find something.

Loki didn’t realise he was tired until his eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. The next thing he knew, his head was on the desk and he was back in Asgard. It only lasted a moment, but he was there, drinking with Thor while they were still on speaking terms.

He was awoken by a nudge.

“How about we get you somewhere more comfortable to rest,” Mobius said softly. “Come on. We’ll go to my place.”

Loki scrunched his nose and sat up. “You have a place? Here I was thinking your entire life was a less interesting version of robots that only did what they were told by the giant lizards.” Loki smirked up at Mobius. They caught each other’s eyes.

“Very funny. Now move unless you want to stay here.”

Mobius led Loki through the authority to a door that seemed no different to any other. They hadn’t even left the building. It was nothing but the same brown and yellow architecture. No wonder the agents were the dullest people Loki had ever experienced.

“Do you ever get to see the sun here?” Loki asked as they reached a door.

“Not really. But don’t worry. We get plenty of sunshine when getting variants.”

That was great news for all the agents who actually went to the missions. Mobius grabbed his key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He stepped aside, allowing Loki to walk in first.

Loki didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was not what he saw. It was the same monochromatic scheme and files of paper he had been seeing anywhere else. There was no sign that Mobius was living there apart from a few cans of that ridiculous drink he always had and a few more jet ski magazines. Loki walked through, hoping to find a glimpse of comfort.

“It might not be the lush palace you’re used to-“ Mobius was saying.

“Oh, no. Gosh no. It is truly horrendous,” Loki started before remembering who he was talking to. He smiled back at Mobius. “But I suppose it will be suitable. For the while.” Mobius chuckled and made his way into the den that was the kitchen.

“Thank you for being so considerate. Here.” He returned with two glasses of red wine, offering one to Loki. Loki smiled and took the glass, sipping it. Even the wine was disgusting. Still, it was better than nothing.

Half of the bottle must have disappeared between the two of them, washing away any distaste they had with each other. Eventually, they stumbled their way through the living room and to the bedroom that was barely large enough for the perfectly made king-sized bed. Mobius fell back onto the bed and Loki straddled him.

Loki's lips crashed onto Mobius, hungry for the connection. He curled his fingers under Mobius’ collar, pulling him closer. Mobius’ earthy scent grew stronger. Loki felt Mobius’ hands move to his lower back, securing him. Loki was enjoying it. He could feel that Mobius was really enjoying it.

Every moment they moved brought a small release to Loki. He didn’t have to think about what he was doing. There was no master plan. It seemed like it was the first time in his life that he could just be. What was it about the strange, tender man that did this to Loki?

It could have been the wine, the stress, or the fact that it had been - Loki didn’t even know how long – since he had been held that way, but Loki wanted more. He tore away Mobius’ jacket and moved his fingers down to his pants.

Mobius gently kissed Loki’s neck and moaned, “I love you.”

Loki immediately stopped. He sat up more and stared into Mobius’ pale blue eyes. What trick was this man doing? Mobius just stared back with a look unfamiliar to Loki. It was… warm, pure, maybe even loving. That look slowly turned into one of concern. Mobius coughed and sat up more.

“Sorry. That was too soon. Forget I said anything,” Mobius mumbled. He sat up to kiss Loki’s lips, but was pushed back down.

Loki couldn’t forget that. It was exactly what he needed to hear. It felt wrong. It was wrong. Loki shuffled off of Mobius. He put on his best chirpy voice.

“Well, that was a nice distraction, but I really need to get back to it. We won’t be finding a Loki variant in this dump. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you there.”

He managed to make it out of the room before he heard Mobius calling out for him to wait.

Loki fled to the archives. It must have been late, or early, as there were no one else around. Perfect. He didn’t even know what he was looking for, but Loki searched up and down the aisles.

I love you

Loki could count on one hand the amount of people who told that to him, and nearly half of them were his so-called family. He took deep breaths, reading the same file name for the tenth time. He thought Mobius was a decent person, but he had been wrong many times before. What would he even get from saying that Loki? Did he think it would magically make Loki more compliant? Well, he clearly didn’t know Loki as well as he as he thought.

There was always the possibility that he meant it. That somehow in his naïve stupid head, he thought what he was feeling was love. It was like a kicked dog who kept returning to his master. The poor little thing didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

The squeaks from the end of the aisle alarmed Loki that he was no longer alone. Loki didn’t look up from the file.

“Now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, I would love it if you actually did something to help me,” Loki muttered.

The footsteps got louder until it stopped just when Loki could smell him. Mobius exhaled. He used that ridiculous soft voice he often used when he was talking to Loki – as if he was talking to a child.

“Look. I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, I don’t regret what I said, but it was too soon and not in the right way. I suppose I just got a little too excited. I mean, look at you, can you really blame me?”

Loki turned and started walking down the aisle, but still felt Mobius following him. It truly was pathetic.

“I get it. It was the heat of the moment. You would have the same thing to anyone who snaked their way into your chambers.”

“No. It’s not that. Loki, Look at me.” The file was snatched away from his hands. Loki sighed and looked up at the moustache. It was strange seeing it now that he knew what it felt like against his skin.

Mobius pressed his fingers against Loki’s chin, forcing him to look up until he could see the gentle blue eyes staring back at him. “I really do care about you. I thought I knew everything about you, but you are so much more than I expected. After all the crap that you went through, you’re still trying to be a better person. You’re talented, you’re intelligent, you’re just,” Mobius hesitated for a moment, “you’re just incredible.”

For the first time in his life, Loki didn’t know what to say. There was something different about how Mobius spoke. He honestly believed what he was saying. That just made everything worse.

“I get it. I know everything about me, but you know practically nothing about me. Well, my name is Mobius. My favourite colour is yellow, I like jet skis and I think you’re really cute.” Loki forced back a smile. “Just come back to bed.” Mobius moved his hand down to Loki’s, but before he reached it, Loki fought back.

He grabbed Mobius hand and twisted it so the agent was forced to turn around. He stepped closer behind the blonde, Loki’s lips only inches from Mobius’ ear.

“I am a god,” Loki grunted. “You are nothing but a mindless drone. Do you really think you can trick me with this nonsense? I can see through deceits much greater than yours.”

“What deceit? Loki, this is ridiculous. Let go of me.” There it was. The same warmth and concern he always had in his voice. Loki shouted in anger as he threw Mobius onto the floor. Mobius groaned and tried to get up, but was stopped by Loki pressing his foot onto Mobius’ chest, forcing him back down.

“Stop lying to me,” he yelled. Mobius just stared back as Loki took deep breaths. “You know nothing about me. You can’t love me. I know I’m greater than all the cretins you have put up with, but do not mistake that worship as love, you… you idiot.”

Mobius still didn’t fight back, but he kept his eyes steady on Loki.

“Are you done?”

Loki removed his foot from the agent. Mobius groaned while getting up. “You’re right. We really need to get back to work.” He started to walk down the aisle.

“Mobius,” Loki called out. The agent turned back to face him. As Loki spoke, he heard his voice break in a desperate attempt to be believed. “I’m just doing this to protect you. You know that, right?”

Mobius chuckled and shook his head before pushing his hands into his pocket.

“I really appreciate it, Loki, but I think we both know I’m not the one who needs protecting.” With that, he left, leaving Loki among the shelves. Alone.

#Loki #Lokius #Mobius #Fanfiction

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punkgrogg · 4 years

Text

Doorway Duo pt. 1

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 3,902 words

Notes: This is my first Hybrid story. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I have two more parts outlined and will update as soon as possible because this quarantine has done nothing but give me time to write.

Date Posted: 4/24/2020

My hands cradled the ever-growing bump I have for a stomach. I still can’t believe I’m pregnant. If you would have told me four months ago I was going to be pregnant and alone I would have never believed you. I was in a loving relationship with my high-school sweetheart and we were against the world.

Until I found him pressed in between the legs of some random girl from his accounting class. That was three months ago- exactly a week before I found out I was pregnant. I let him know immediately and he admonished me for thinking he was the father. Apparently, there was no way he could be the father- we had only had sex four times in the past year.

It only takes one time, I thought as I picked up the last of my bags. He had moved out of our apartment the week I found him cheating on me and I was more than capable of keeping the place myself but with a baby? No way. I knew nothing about being a mother and thankfully my parents insisted on me coming back home at the end of the semester so they could help me. I’d be finishing my degree online until I got more settled with the baby.

Until. This was only temporary until I got my life back on track.

This has been my mantra for the past few weeks. I’ve repeated it daily in hopes of quelling the anxiety of bringing in a new life. I repeat as I drive twenty minutes out of the city and back home. Parking in front of the house I grew up in, I can feel the dread knotting itself in my stomach. This made everything all the more real and I was scared. Scared to face my future. While I was battling my inner demons I never noticed Hoseok approaching the car until he pulled open my door.

“Y/n! You’re finally here!” he squealed as he awkwardly wrapped me up in a hug. My waist was pinned back against the seat with the seat-belt but he was pulling me out of the car. Hoseok was my adopted brother. He was a hybrid my parents saved when we were both young and he’s been my brother ever since but most people don’t agree with my family’s ideology.

“Hobi you’re hurting me.” I gasped and he instantly released me his fluffy black ears falling flat against his hair. I unbuckled before hopping out and wrapping him in the biggest hug possible. He welcomed the hug with a tightened grasp. I missed him.

“How’s the baby?” I hear my mother call from the porch and Hoseok releases me. He reached past me into the car to pop the trunk before going to unload. I turn towards my mother to see two men beside her as they all make their way down the driveway. Both of the men were taller than Hoseok and like Hoseok they were hybrids. They seemed to be total opposites as far as their fashion choices went. Monochromatic would be the only way to describe their appearance; one an entirely dark presence- his clothes were tight and black from top to bottom, the other was a soft entity- his clothes were light, ashy gray that matched his hair. They both walk past me and assist Hoseok without a glance towards me. My mother captures me in a warm hug.

“They’re doing fine and your baby is doing great too.” I finally answer, returning her hug. As we part, she lays her hand on my stomach with tears in her eyes.

“I swore Jinnie would give me my first grand-babies but here you are, breaking through every expectation once again.”

“I thought I would be an aunt before I was a mother too but I figured it’d be Joon. he was always the ladies’ man in high school.” I sighed exasperatedly. My other two older brothers were back in the city and have already started their careers. Seokjin was engaged and Namjoon was so focused on his career that I don’t think he’s been on a date since high school.

“Well, life has a funny way of making things happen. Have you found out the gender yet?”

“As I told you three days ago, they’re sitting weird and we can’t figure out what it is,” I said as we walked into the house. I could hear my dad in the kitchen, presumably cooking tacos from the smell of it. He was always the best cook in the house and insisted on cooking every meal. I followed the scent of cumin and sizzling beef as I could hear the pounding of feet up the stairs behind me.

“Baby girl, I’m making your favorite,” He says as he comes over for a quick side hug. As quick as he was here- he was gone. Back to tending to the tortillas and chopping the onions.

“I haven’t had tacos in forever, whenever I smelled any kind of beef I became nauseous,” I commented idly, my father’s face turning up in disgust and my mother’s showing sympathy.

“I couldn’t eat eggs for any of my pregnancies, especially during the first trimester.” she patted my shoulder gently and moved towards the fridge. I heard the stampeding feet once again and was quickly tugged into someone’s side.

“What’s my nephew’s name?” Hoseok asked loudly, his cheek pressed to the top of my head. I glanced quietly towards the doorway where the two men stood as still as a pair of statues while intently looking towards me.

“It might be a niece you’re getting.” I retorted while pulling myself away. I stepped towards the doorway duo with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n, sorry that no one else introduced us.”

The first one to shake my hand had broad shoulders and ashy gray hair. He had a long tail that reached the floor that was the same gray as his appearance but was accented by black spots. He held my hand gingerly and dipped his head towards me. “ I’m Taehyung, its nice to meet you.” His hand lingered as I turned to the next guy.

The second man had more muscles than I had ever seen on your average person. His face was jarring with the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks, he had short-cropped hair that accentuated his tall pointed ears. And unlike the first, he hesitated on taking my hand.

“Jungkook,” He said tersely before shaking my hand once and dropping it like it was hot coals.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said while stepping away once. Taehyung took a half step forward, his gaze still trapped on my face. Jungkook’s gaze was firmly focused on my stomach, an intense look that made my heart skip and subconsciously pull my hands forward to protect them.

“You’re not going to ask?” Taehyung asked, his face screwed up in confusion. I could feel Hoseok’s presence towering behind me- his hand reaching up to grasp my shoulder.

“Ask what?” My head cocked in confusion before realization dawned on me. “Oh, how rude of me. How was your day?” Hoseok chuckled from behind me before piping in.

“He meant asking what they were.” embarrassment made my face flush, how could I be so dense?

“Oh. Uh. Well, you can tell me if you want. I honestly don’t really care about that, I’m not too sure about what Hobi is.”

“Great Pyrenees. Goodness, you’d think after sixteen years you’d know that.”

“All I know is that you’re fluffy and a cuddle bug.”

“I’m a snow leopard hybrid.” Taehyung quickly interjected, his ears pointed up, they rose mere centimeters above his wild untamed curls. They were the same color as his ashy hair but had accents of black on the tips.

“Really? That’s so cool, I’ve never met a snow leopard hybrid before.” He mirrored my smile, his eyes crinkling into feline-esque slits. Faint patches of freckles were mapped across his cheekbones, curling up around his eyes.

“We’re as rare as our animal counterpart.” His eyes glanced quickly towards Jungkook meaningfully then flickered away just as fast. “Jungkook here is a German Shepherd hybrid.”

“Wow, that’s really cool.” Jungkook couldn’t meet my stare and quietly excused himself, high tailing his way back up the stairs. Taehyung ignored his retreating form and instead stepped into the kitchen, sitting at the counter. Hoseok followed after him relaxing into the second to last stool

“Sorry, he’s a bit apprehensive, Hoseok warned us about your pregnancy and that you might have crazy mood swings.” The gray man added conversationally, his eyes scanning over my face approvingly. He cracked a grin at the disbelief that spread across my face.

“Crazy what?” my father chuckled at my incredulous tone, “Hobi I will kill you.” I stepped towards him menacingly and he shot up off his perch.

“See Tae? It’s already happening. Mom, get your daughter.” he cried out as he circled around the counter towards mom.

He tried to duck behind her smirking form as I neared but he underestimated the drama mom lived for. “You only brought this on yourself, honey.” She flitted over to dad’s side and taste-tested the corn salsa.

“Who’s gonna save you now?” I smirked at him as I crept closer, my hands poised to pinch the ever-loving shit out of his cheeks.

“This isn’t fair, I can’t fight a pregnant woman,” Hobi whined as he resisted my efforts- his entire upper body leaning away from me.

“If either of you scoundrels hurt my grand-baby I will ground you both.” my dad intoned, halting both our figures. My hands cupping his face and his pushing against my shoulders lightly. Taehyung was laughing at us- he had melodic giggles.

“Taehyung dear, will you go tell Jungkook it’s time for dinner? Y/n and Hoseok go set the table.” Mom ordered and all three of us obeyed instantly. Hobi pulled a stack of plates out the cabinet and I rounded up the silverware. Taehyung was up the stairs by the time Hobi and left the kitchen and headed over to the dining room. I straightened out the red table mats and laid out a set of silverware while Hobi was a step behind me laying out his stack of plates.

“So, all jokes aside, how has it been?” he asked as we finished up, I leaned heavily against the chair in front of me. It sucks. I’m about to be responsible for a whole person. I’m scared and alone. Is what I thought but there was no way I could actually tell him that.

“Well, it’s not what I had planned but I’ll get through it. It’s weird being back here when I’ve been living in the city for the past three years.” A wry smile managed to take residence on my face.

“You’ll get used to it, and like you said you’ll get through it. Have you heard from him?” Hobi settled into the chair directly across from me. He started to fiddle with his spoon as I sunk down into my seat.

“No, and I don’t want to. He said he wasn’t the father and that he didn’t want to be.”

“Jin and I will still kick his ass if you want us to.” He was focused on the spoon in his hand, but I could tell that emotionally he was struggling. He was always the more empathetic of my brothers and showed to be more protective of our family at every turn. He was the first one I told when I found Henry was unfaithful and he was the first to know I was pregnant.

“No, it’s fine. We don’t need that loser anyway.” I smile at him, hoping to convey my appreciation to how he’s been so strong in supporting me. My eyes strayed up to the stairs, the question finally breaking through. “Uh, what’s with our two guests? Friends of yours from work?”

“No, the shelter caught on fire last week, and since mom and dad are certified for fostering they brought them in. Mom didn’t tell you?” Hoseok cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed.

“She didn’t but that sucks about the shelter. When will it be fixed?” The shelter was where hybrids could stay and be safe. And, as unfair as it is, where they could find their next home. Hybrids had a terrible history and humans were horrible when it came to them. Many held no regard for their hybrids- considering them no better than an animal. Thankfully by adolescence hybrids usually find their place in life and the shelter typically only houses kids being adopted out. There were cases where a family who could no longer provide the care for their hybrid had to surrender them to the shelter. Cases presumably like Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Boss said a couple of months until the renovations are all finished.” Hoseok was a volunteer at the shelter, he has been since high school. Hybrids weren’t allowed to work without the permission of their family (something that outrages our family to no end) and most could only work in volunteer positions.

“Maybe they’ll finally fix the break room's window.” I teased, for as long as I can remember the window has been duct-taped together. No matter what- renovations or accidents being repaired- the window has remained duct-taped together.

“That window has been broken since Hoseok came into the family,” Dad chimed in as he swept into the room. He was carrying the frying pan full of steak in one hand and a table protector in the other. He laid it in the center of the table as Mom, Taehyung, and Jungkook followed behind with their arms full of the side dishes.

“There’s always hope.” Retorted Hobi, ever the optimist.

“I highly doubt it- it’ll probably be the only thing missed by the renovations.” Dad shook his head, having lost hope on that window years ago.

“What’s being missed?” Mom asks, situating the chopped tomatoes and the tower of tortillas.

“The shelter’s break room window.” I supplied, helping pull out the chair to my right for her to sit. Jungkook settled in the seat in between Hoseok and my dad; Taehyung claimed the seat on the right of my mother.

“Oh that thing has always been broken, I figured they’d fix it years ago. Anyway, Hoseok dear pass me the sour cream.” at that, we all settled into making our plates.

“Dad, this is sublime, I’ve been living off of pizza and ramen for the past few months.” The taco was by far the best thing I’ve eaten in months. The seasonings and fresh ingredients almost overwhelming my poor college student tastebuds. Dad smiled down the table at me.

“Is that healthy for the baby?” Hoseok asked making a face of concern directed to my stomach.

“You can worry about yourself- I already got an earful of complaints from mom about prenatal vitamins.” Jungkook snorted at the retort and smiled at me for the first time.

“Honestly what's the difference between prenatal vitamins and regular vitamins?” Taehyung asked, turning towards my mother and I. I shrugged and shoved another taco in my mouth. Mom said they were important and I believed her- plus my doctors said it was great when I had told him I was already taking the vitamins.

“They have more iron and other nutrients that pregnant women don’t get enough of.” Mom explained and Taehyung nodded thoughtfully.

“Pregnancy is so much work, I don't know how you did it three times mom.” Mom laughed at that- covering her face with a napkin.

“Raising you four was way more work, pregnancy was a breeze compare to four teenagers.” She looked at me with pointed eyes. Ah, yes, the dreaded teenage years I would soon face. I grimaced at the thought of hormone-fueled years. Hopefully, I’ll have a daughter, I knew how girls worked throughout puberty.

“Hey, Namjoon wasn’t nearly as bad as the other three.” Dad defended, he was always on the defense of his supposed angel child.

“Joonie almost slept with the entire highschool our junior year and I’m surprised he even got through college without a baby,” Hobi interjected loudly causing Taehyung to laugh.

“No really, Jin, and I thought he was going to catch something.” He continued, turning towards the gray hybrid. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes expressed the utmost of sincerity.

“Your brother did not.” Mom joined the defense, her and dad believing the facade Joon had put up throughout our childhood.

“That’s what you think, he was a sneaky little bastard.” I chimed in joining Hobi’s side. Jungkook and Taehyung were giggling to themselves watching us all bicker.

“Middle children always are,” Jungkook said joining the offensive.

“They’re nowhere near as spoiled as the youngest.” Hobi suddenly turned on me, the shock of betrayal apparent in my scoff.

“She’s the only girl, you guys never stood a chance.” The unexpected support form Taehyung had me smirking at my new enemy.

“It’s not my fault I’m the favorite,” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and leveled Hobi with a teasing glare.

“Seokjin might beat you there.” Mom rebuked, completely sideswiping me.

“Hey! Does your grandchild mean nothing to you?” I cried out in mock surprise, Jin was mom’s angel child.

“Honey, we promised not to tell them.”

“Honestly, high key offended but not surprised.” Hoseok shook his head as he continued on with his taco. The room dissolved into chatter as we finished dinner; I excused myself from the table to unpack.

I slowly made my way up the stairs while taking the time to look at all the photos of my brothers and me throughout the years. My room was the first room at the top of the stairs- Hoseok’s was directly across. Namjoon and Seokjin’s rooms were the other two rooms but both have now turned into guest bedrooms ever since they graduated college. My room used to be our parents’ when we were really young but soon after bringing Hobi into the family, they renovated the garage into the master bedroom of their dreams.

My room was still the ugly lime green color that I begged my dad into painting it when I was in middle school. The furniture was a yellowing white and had layers of neon colors splattered on it. Coming home really incited the cringe-worthy memories of my early teen years- swore it was cool at some point. My suitcases and duffel bags were resting on my bed. I decided to shuffle my music while unpacking the impossible amounts of clothes I managed to pack.

~~~~~~~~

“Now all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I?” I sang along, lost in the moment of hanging up all of my shirts. One bag remained after I finished my shirts- my underwear and socks. I was startled out of my peaceful reverie at the abrupt knock at my door. I whipped around to see Jungkook hesitating at my doorway with a shy smile.

“Your mom asked me to bring this up to you,” he answered my unasked question and held out a plate with chocolate cake. My mouth watered just looking at it.

“Thank you Jungkook, just set it down on that dresser and I’ll get it when I finish this up “I waved towards the surface closest to him with the hanger in hand while hooking on a sweater. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he slowly stepped into the room and laid the cake on the dresser.

He stood in place while looking around at my room his gaze finally settling on the pile of luggage on the floor at the foot of my bed. “Do you need any help?”

“No,” My answer was quick and he seemed to flinch at it. To soften the unintended blow I smiled awkwardly, “but you’re more than welcome to hang out in here.”He meandered over to edge of the bed as I hung up the last shirt from my bag. It was silent as I shoved the bag off the bed and onto the pile of other emptied ones and made my way over to my cake. I hopped up onto the dresser to sit so I could face Jungkook while I ate. He avoided looking at my face and instead looked at the posters hung on my wall that were of artists that never really charted on any kind of chart.

“What kind of music are you into?”He looked at me quizzically as I finally broke the awkward silence between us.

“Well, that’s a tough question. A little bit of everything I guess, mainly pop if I had to settle on a genre.” I finished my cake and set it to the side as I smiled at him wildly.

“Me too, I kind of go in phases though, like it’ll be pop and then I’ll really get into 70s indie rock for a couple of weeks.” He softly grinned at my enthusiasm before snickering.

“You sound like Tae when he gets into his movies, it’ll be a week-long showing of all marvel films and then two months of obscure Buster Keaton films.” His tone sounded as if he’s experienced this far too many times to count.

“Buster Keaton was the shit though,” my proclamation was met with the horror of a man too well versed in debating Buster Keaton.

“Oh god, not another one.” he groaned, flopping back onto my bed. I laughed a little until he sat up again, his smile sobering me up.

“So how long have you and Taehyung known each other?” Were they from the same home before being placed in the shelter? It wasn’t that often that people were able to bond so well when in the shelter with how short their stays typically were.

“We have been roommates at the shelter for, I guess, about a year now. He’s my best friend.” Jungkook’s smile was the complete opposite of what should accompany that sentence. A month was the maximum I had ever heard of someone staying in the shelter. I schooled my features to not show the shock I felt.

“Who me? It better be me or else I’m chopping heads off.” Taehyung entered the room in the most dramatic way possible. Unlike Jungkook he hadn’t waited for an invitation and instead strutted into the room while Jungkook rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

“I hear you’re a fellow Keaton aficionado.” My statement caused him to falter in his stride, he quickly recovered with a beaming smile directed towards me.

“On occasion, noir is where my heart is truly.” His hand clutched at the thick gray cardigan right above his heart.

“Your heart changes every other day.” Jungkook rebutted, his eyes rolling so far back he might lose them back there.

“She’s noncommittal okay, we don’t judge here.” Taehyung glared at his best friend and it made my heart swell at how cute they both were.

“I’m most definitely judging,” Jungkook muttered falling back on his elbows and staring up at the ceiling, feigning annoyance.

“Can you believe him Y/n?” The deep timbre of his voice negated any nasal squeak he might otherwise have from his whiny tone.

“He’s a real scoundrel, the worst of them all.”

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actualbird · 4 years

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nobody asked but here are my personal top five pat gill videos | a 2.1k word long post where i rank and review pat gill’s videos for just way too long.

Right around the tail end of April, 2020, I fell into the rabbit hole of my current obsession; Polygon Dot Com Video Content. As a consequence of this was being introduced to the phenomenon of Pat Gill. A dire consequence of that consequence was me slowly, deeply, irrevocably, finding myself attracted to this marionette of a man. So, I enjoy his content and I think he’s hot and that combined with the fact that some of my friends bully me over that latter fact has inspired me to do this: rank my personal favorite Pat Gill videos in a post that’s entirely too long.

Before I get straight into the rankings, I need to explain my process.

First, I needed to narrow my scope. Polygon has a lot of videos. Polygon has a lot of videos with Pat Gill in them. If I didn’t narrow my scope, I would either go bonkers yonkers or have a list that would be kilometric in length and thus miss the entire point of ranking altogether. So, for my sanity, I am excluding any videos that are a part of a Polygon video series. This means no Overboard, no Gill and Gilbert, no Video Game Theatre, etc. If I included these, I would cry. I do not want to cry over Polygon Dot Com Video Producer Pat Gill.

Second, I need a criteria. If I just ranked videos with no system, I would find myself endlessly rearranging my list based on whatever thought comes out on top in my mind at the given moment. I am a disorganized person, so I need rules. I have decided that I will rank Pat Gill videos using the EEEH criteria.

Entertainment. Do I smile, watching the video? Do I chortle? Am I filled with the embarrassing urge to show this video to my sister and derive glee from her laughing at the exact same moment I laughed? Entertainment is key.

Education. Did I come out of this video knowing something I originally did not know? More importantly, was I engaged in the learning process? I come from a family of teachers, so I have high standards when it comes to education. If I am to learn, I must learn well.

Exaltation. This is a bit of an oddball criteria, but it is important to me. The word “exalted” is defined as “elevated in rank, character, or status.” This criteria refers to how good it is at exalting, elevating, pulling me out of a depressive episode. That is to say I’ve been in a depressive episode for the past month and whether or not the video made me stop crying and brush my teeth is essential. Polygon video content has been integral to my serotonin production lately, and thus the video’s ability of acting as an audiovisual antidepressant for me factors into the rankings.

[BONUS POINTS] Hotness. How Hot Is Pat Gill In It? I felt bad, morally, ranking videos based on how good looking I thought Pat Gill was in it---because beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and all that, and people don’t exist to be beautiful, they just are, and I agree---so I’m relegating this criteria as a bonus point. Standard is 0, because he’s always hot in my mind, but he gets plus points if he is exemplary in the hotness department.

The maximum score for each of these criteria is 5 points, making the perfect score a 15, but because of the bonus points, a 20 is, hypothetically, possible.

With that out of the way, let me dive right into it.

5. The fastest interview ever with Ben Schwartz from Sonic the Hedgehog

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Entertainment: 5 Education: 2 Exaltation: 2 Hotness: +2 Total Score: 11

Pat Gill is a good interviewer, he’s engaging and fun and keeps the interview interesting, but this interview is particularly special because it seems that, and let me quote Youtube user AudreyN who left a comment on this video stating “ben schwartz consumed all seven chaos emeralds prior to this interview.” Pat Gill and Ben Schwartz’s dynamic is amazing, and by “dynamic” I do mean “Ben Schwartz absolutely just fucking dunking on Pat Gill for 14 entire minutes.” and it is glorious.

For Entertainment this scores a solid 5. Quite honestly the funniest interview I’ve ever watched in my entire life. Just the sheer beauty in the exchange [Pat] “You would use Sonic’s power to gaslight me?” [Ben] “Just you.” In terms of Education, I guess I did learn a bunch of things about the Sonic movie that I didn’t know before, but the avenue by which it was portrayed in was not exactly the most engaging, more like I was absorbing it via watching two experts discuss on a webinar. I would have given just 1 point to Education but I made it 2 because of the wonderful knowledge that Pat Gill can draw a pretty good Sonic in a few seconds. When it comes to Exaltation, I must admit that while this video got quite a few laughs out of me, it didn’t make me want to get out of bed and take a shower.

BONUS: Pat is +2 hot in it. His short hair makes him look very handsome. He’s a spiffy boy, in this video. Very, very good.

4. Pat Will Not Tweet at Nintendo This Week Because He is Resting at Home — PLEASE RETWEET, Episode 12

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Entertainment: 5 Education: 0 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: +1 Total Score: 11

I know I’m breaking a rule I set for myself a few paragraphs earlier by including an episode of Please Retweet, which counts as a video series, but this is my post and I can do whatever I want. More importantly, this video is so fucking funny to me, it feels like it would be a crime not to put it in this list.

Solid 5 out of 5 for entertainment. Pat Gill, alone in his apartment, drinking six cans of what I think is beer silently while the intro music plays. That scene in itself should win an Oscar. Sadly, a solid 0 for Education, because I learn nothing in this video except for the fact that Pat Gill is the type of person to put out a coaster and then just completely not use it. I quantify things as educational if I can maybe answer a trivia question with them, and unfortunately, this fact does not pass that test. In terms of Exaltation, seeing Pat Gill lie down on the floor next to his cat made me get out of bed to do the same with my dog, and with myself thusly out of my bed cocoon of sadness, I was able to actually complete tasks on the day I watched this video. Perfect 5.

BONUS: Pat is +1 hot in this because there’s something very beautiful about him being a little bit miserable. However, I do miss his beard when I watch this video. It is one of my favorite things about him, and it is not present here.

3. Pat and Simone Play Human: Fall Flat

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Entertainment: 5 Education: 1 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: 0 Total Score: 11

I very much enjoy Polygon’s gameplay streams. I often play them in the background while I’m doing other stuff like doodling or origami, but this stream is special. It is special because of the moment at 24:00 when Pat Gill, in game, swings a stereo into a glass window, shattering it, while saying, “Actually, y’know what? Let’s talk about trauma.” and then proceeds to tell a horrible and embarrassing story from his childhood where he had to do a rap about Ancient Egypt.

5 points for Entertainment. This is partly because of Pat’s tragic childhood story about the Egypt Rap (and, segue just to point out 33:22 the incredible moment where you can hear Pat’s feral panic when Simone finds the lyrics to the Egypt Rap) but also because Pat and Simone just talking to each other is so deeply entertaining to me in a very comfy way. I’m starved for human interaction, in this quarantime, okay. Let me enjoy listening to other people have conversations while playing video games. Education scores a 1 because, again, nothing in this video will let me answer a trivia question, however it does get 1 point and not a 0 because the Egypt Rap’s lyrics are in the comments and I did end up learning stuff about Ancient Egypt that I didn’t know. A perfect 5 for Exaltation because this video showed me that talking about trauma can actually be cathartic, given that you’re trashing a video game living room at the same time, and I think that message of not bottling up your experiences really helped me, in these trying times.

BONUS: Pat Gill is not visible for the entirety of this episode, so he scores the standard 0. I’m sure he was hot. We just couldn’t see him.

2. Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the same thing

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Entertainment: 4 Education: 4 Exaltation: 3 Hotness: +2 Total Score: 12

Ah yes, one of Pat’s “x is y because of z” videos. He’s made a number of these and they’re all very good but this one is my favorite among them and earns a spot on this list because 1) I think puppets are cool and 2) I fucking love monsters.

This video scores a 4 on Entertainment, just shy of perfect, because as funny as it is, it also gives me the vibe like I am being lectured by a professor who’s just a little bit off the shits. And we all know that lectures are supposed to be taken seriously. Which brings us to Education, which also scores a 4. I learned a lot in this video! Watching Pat Gill explain to me that children’s puppets and these horrifying viddy game monsters use the same character principles in different ways is not only very educational but is also explained in a streamline and easy to understand manner that I WISH some of the shitty professors at my old university could emulate. As for Exaltation, while this video did give me enough energy to have a meal, I did eventually end up back in bed for the night at 8pm crying myself to sleep, thinking “I’m like the slime scholar. Used to be a scholar. Now they’re slime.”

BONUS: Pat Gill is +2 hot here. He’s rockin that basic ass monochromatic aesthetic and I love his look dearly.

1. Preparing for Big Boy Season in Red Dead Redemption 2

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Entertainment: 5 Education: 3 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: +3 Total Score: 16

Here we are. My favorite non video series Pat Gill video. The video where Pat Gill tries to make Red Dead Redemption 2 protagonist, Arthur Morgan, large.

Perfect fucking 5 for Entertainment, which I’m sure many may find odd. Afterall, this video is told in a serious investigative tone reminiscent of Vox’s videos on current issues. But that’s the glory of it. The complete and utter ‘playing it straight and serious’ for a ridiculous issue in a video game. It is high tier comedy in a subtle, understated way that sings to my comedy loving heart in a melody so lovely, so wonderful, that it urged me to give this video 5 points for Entertainment. It scores 3 on Education, because I have never played Red Dead Redemption 2, nor will I ever, but now I know things about it. The information was also relayed to me in a very interesting style, via something like a crime procedural, and thus it was engaging for me to absorb all this new knowledge. Exaltation scores a perfect 5 because of this video’s beautiful end about existential smallness. No joke, but hearing Pat Gill say “Our bigness isn’t measured in pounds, but in the impact we have on the people with whom we shared the world.” deadass made me want to talk to my friends again after conversationally isolating myself for 3 days. Preparing for Big Boy Season has a special place in my heart. And there it will stay.

BONUS: Pat Gill is not visible for most of the video but he does appear for like 15 seconds in the middle of it, and guess what. He’s hot. +3 hotness. Good beardage, good hair, all in all, good Pat Gill.

So there you have it. My five favorite Pat Gill videos. If you read this whole thing, holy shit. You’re welcome, I guess.

#this is what im using my degree in creative writing for i guess #polygon #pat gill #pat gill thirst jail #patrick gill #nobody asked but

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starlocked01 · 4 years

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Rivals to Soulmates Speedrun

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Logan is confident in his ability to compete academically. He's not prepared for the consequences of ignoring his team. Content Warning: Brief swearing, Kissing, one mild nsfw mention

Day 24 Loceit- When you first meet your soulmate you see a vision of the future. Modified so that the vision happens at their first touch.

"Alright I need everyone to focus. I don't know how we managed to get this far but we did and we are not going home empty handed," Logan looked each of his teammates in the eyes. He really did not know what miracle had gotten them all the way to the championship- no wait, yes he did. It was him. The unfortunate truth of attending a small private school meant that getting on the Academic Challenge team was not so much a matter of skill or knowledge, rather it was asking to be on the team.

Logan was used to pulling more than his fair share of the burden anyway. And at least Roman knew theater stuff and Patton- well, Patton was there for moral support.

"Just remember, all answers go through me," Logan stood straight and smiled confidently.

"Whatever you say, Spock," Roman sighed, more interested in his nails than the team captain's speech, "let's get this nerd royale over with."

"Remember to have fun, kiddos," Patton grinned and clapped his teammates on their backs as they made their entrance on stage.

Logan's first thought was to size up the competition. He wasn't intimidated in the slightest but one must know their enemy.

First was a boy who looked like he'd been dragged out of the alleyway and forced on the team. If his monochromatic outfit and terrible posture matched his enthusiasm he wouldn't pose any immediate threat to Logan.

The second boy looked, in a word, deranged. His large grin and wide eyes were out of place among the serious faces of the other competitors. Logan did have to note that the frilly black and green skirt complimented him well. The boy caught Logan’s eye and winked at him. Eugh.

The third, the team captain, was on a different level entirely from his team. Logan immediately felt utter loathing for that casual smirk. Everything about him just screamed "pretentious asshole who thinks he's smarter than everyone in the room". Logan scoffed at his socially deviant attire, which included a bowler hat and black capelet. Logan adjusted his tie. How ridiculous looking. This boy thought he was a threat to Logan. That misconception would be quickly rectified.

"Welcome to the Academic Challenge District Championship! I'm your host tonight, Thomas Sanders," the man grinned widely at the seven people in the audience, "today's game will be three rounds. Team captains, if you would step forward and shake hands."

Logan stepped forward and met the other captain in the middle of the stage. He offered a yellow-gloved hand to Logan.

"Gloves?"

"You can never be too careful. May the best team win."

Logan grabbed his hand and shook firmly, "we will."

"We'll see," the other captain smirked and turned back to his team with a flourish of his cape.

Logan smirked and pivoted to walk back to Patton and Roman who were already set up at the podium. Both boys looked absolutely bored out of their minds already but Patton at least tried to give Logan a supportive smile.

Logan gave the host a self-confident smirk, "it's game time."

They quickly ran a buzzer check for both teams and started the categories round. The other team seemed pretty evenly matched with Logan and not many points were turned over while toss-ups became a matter of who was faster to the buzzer. By the end of the round Logan had a slight lead and felt very confident.

"Alright! Now it's time for the alphabet round! Today's letter is 'N' and all the answers will start with 'n'. Teams here are your sheets, you have 4 minutes starting… now!" Thomas declared and both teams quickly flipped the list of questions.

"'Musical about the effects of mental illness on a family'," Logan read the first question aloud, "Roman, what's the answer?"

Roman shrugged, "I dunno."

"What do you mean, 'I dunno'?" Logan hissed, "this is your area of expertise!"

"Just because I'm an actor doesn't mean I've seen every show," Roman scoffed, reading down the list of questions to himself, "well I don't know any of this. Try Hamilton."

"It has to start with 'N'!" Logan groaned.

"What about 'Next to Normal'?" Patton didn't look up from his paper where he was drawing.

"Okay fine. What are you doing?"

Patton showed him the doodle, "it's a nectarine for number 17."

Logan looked dumbfounded and scrambled for the last two minutes to answer as many as possible. He glanced over at the other team to find them all talking calmly while the green skirt boy scribbled down the answers.

The buzzer sounded and both teams handed their sheets to Thomas who quickly graded the answers.

"And with that round both teams are tied! It all comes down to the lightning round. To your buzzers everyone!"

Logan only started to mildly panic when the other team got the first three answers. He knew them but couldn't buzz in fast enough.

"Help me out here, guys," he hissed at the others.

Roman rolled his eyes and buzzed in halfway through the next question, "the answer is American Gothic."

"How could you possibly know that?" Logan was furious but turned to give their official answer, "uh Grant Wood."

"No, sorry, Team B?"

The boy in the cape leaned in to the others before responding, "American Gothic."

"Correct!" Thomas replied cheerfully.

"Told you, you're on your own, wonder nerd," Roman sighed and went back to not paying attention.

Logan did his best to keep up but was falling miserably behind.

"Okay last question, where did Descartes claim the human soul resided in the body?" Thomas waited for the buzzer.

"Shit!" Logan dropped his head in shame,then heard the buzzer ring and looked up to see Patton had rang in.

"The pineal gland!" Patton blurted out cheerfully. Logan’s head hit the podium. That was the dumbest-

"Correct! And with that the final score is Team A 350 to Team B 470! Congratulations to Dark Knell High!" Thomas led the scattered applause for the team.

Logan stood, furious, and walked back to the center of the stage where the other captain stood, looking smug as hell and holding the trophy. Logan stuck out his hand for the congratulatory handshake, scowling. The boy made a show of removing his glove before taking Logan’s hand.

Logan’s back against a brick wall with that smug face inches from his. The expression softens and a finger traces his cheek before he leans in to kiss Logan. A cacophony of conflicting emotions screams through his head and settles on "wait, am I gay?" just before he kisses back, anger and humiliation temporarily forgotten in the arms of-

"Janus, my name is Janus. Looks like I'll be seeing you behind the school," Janus winked at a stunned Logan. Logan quickly straightened up and returned to his team.

"What was that about, Specs? You two were standing there for like a minute," Roman looked amused.

"I-" Logan couldn't make himself speak.

"I'm sorry we lost, Lo," Patton smiled apologetically, "they worked really well together as a team. It was going to be hard to beat them."

"No- Patton you did marvelously. I'm sorry for doubting you. And Roman, I'm sorry for not trusting you and not working together as a team. I failed you both," Logan looked down to his feet, ashamed.

"Aw, it's okay, Lo! Maybe we can practice together more before the next tournament and work together next time?" Patton gave him a reassuring smile.

"Assuming I'm even still on the team. Honestly, this sucked. I'm out of here," Roman turned to leave.

"Roman…" Patton chided

"Ugh, fine, yes we'll do better next time," he waved the others off as he left the stage to talk with their advisor.

"He'll come around," Patton grinned, "but seriously were you okay up there?"

"Patton, I think I need to go meet my soulmate. Don't let Dr. Picani leave without me," Logan was distracted by Janus slipping out a back door.

"What?? Okay I'll stall," Patton looked incredibly happy for his friend.

Logan followed Janus out the back door and soon found himself reliving the vision he'd had.

"That was a close game. I wasn't certain we were going to win until your team fell apart," Janus smiled at him, hand still in Logan's hair.

"Well, I didn't expect- you," Logan's mind was whirling.

Janus slipped him a scrap of paper and kissed his cheek before turning back to the door, "call me."

Logan looked at the phone number, "I'm Logan. And I'm sorry you're stuck with me for a soulmate."

"I'm sure we'll make it work. I was quite impressed with your performance today. Until next time, Logan," with that Janus slipped back inside and Logan realized he needed to not miss the bus back home. He sprinted around the school and found Dr. Picani patiently dealing with Patton's antics. He climbed on the bus while their advisor was distracted and collapsed in his seat.

"So where'd you disappear to, L?" Roman asked without looking up from his phone.

"Janus is my soulmate. I saw the vision when we shook hands the second time," Logan confessed.

"Oh my god! Good for you, Lo! Maybe getting laid will make you chill out," Roman smirked, texting his own soulmate.

"Wow, rude. I expected nothing less from you," Logan smirked, fishing his phone out of his backpack and programming the number in his phone before calling Janus.

"Love you, Specs," Roman grinned as Patton and Dr. Picani finally boarded the bus.

"Nice job today team! We didn't win but you gave it your best, which is what counts! Did you all have a good time?" Dr. Picani gave them all a broad grin, genuinely proud despite the loss.

"Logan sure had a good time," Roman snickered.

"I had fun!" Patton beamed.

Logan held the still ringing phone away from his ear, "today was adequate. Thank you, Dr. Picani."

"Great, let's get home," Dr. Picani turned to the bus driver and they started driving back. Logan grinned as Janus finally picked up the phone.

"Hello, Logan."

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #dr. emile picani #c!thomas sanders #logan centric #soulmate au #high school au #academic challenge #ironically this buzzer beater... was posted late #damn my phone but I figured it out

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angellesword · 4 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (05)

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

SERIES: CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 6

The best thing about Red was that she wasn't just your assistant; she was also your friend.

Your one and only girl confidant.

Growing up, you didn't really have a lot of friends. It was probably because you used to be so shy.

Unlike other children, you weren't forced by your parents to interact with kids your age. Why would they do that when you already had everything you needed?

You had the latest toys so you didn't have to play tag or hide and seek with your neighbors. You were also a smart girl. You didn't need to ask for your classmates' help. The only weakness your parents saw was the fact that you only excelled in the academic field. You weren't blessed with a golden voice. You couldn't dance, you couldn't ride a bike. You couldn't even do the basic household chore.

This was all because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You didn't have to try harder. You had a handmaiden to do all sort of things for you. Your parents paid the school so that you wouldn't have to attend P.E classes or any other extracurricular activities.

You were contented to be alone in your big, princess-like room.

In fact, you only met Jimin, your best friend who was two years younger than you, during college days. He was your classmate in your first ever P.E class. You were already a junior that time. You thought you could skip P.E the way you did in high school, but you were wrong. You ended up in Jimin’s class that time.

The two of you didn’t stop being friends after the semester ended. Actually, you guys became even closer. Jimin was the only person who was by your side when you were breaking down because of school. He cried with you, slept late with you, and he also set you up with a lot of his friends. Unfortunately, you weren't attracted to any of them. You weren't picky. You were just a sucker for soulmates and happy endings. His efforts didn't go to waste though. You became good friends with some of these guys. You were particularly close to Jung Hoseok, a boy your age who was in Jimin's dance class.

Hoseok was a great person, but you still craved the idea of having a girl best friend.

Luckily, you met Red.

You met her months ago—back when she was still a struggling student who was looking for a job in the company where you were working.

"And why would I hire someone like you?" Gahee, your co-worker, snarled at Red. The former didn't like the latter's answers during the interview portion. She said Red was too slow, too soft. She wasn't fit to become a lawyer like the rest of you.

"I'm sorry..." This was another issue. Red kept on apologizing. She had a very low self-esteem.

You knew right there and then that this girl wouldn't be hired. Out of the five interviewers, you were certain that you're the only one who was in favor of this intern.

Why?

It was because Red reminded you of your younger self.

As stated, you were a shy kid. But then law school changed you. To survive, you needed to act tough—you constantly needed put on a mask just so you could reach the 'standard' of what a lawyer should be like.

Most of the time, it worked. There were cases, however, wherein you became clouded by your own judgment. Some of your colleagues said you were too empathetic—always rescuing people from their misery.

You were doing it again.

"I'm going to hire her." These were your exact words just as Red was about to leave.

She stopped walking. Red turned to look at you. Confusion was apparent all over her face. Were you serious?

The other interviewers couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth, so naturally, they protested.

You simply raised your brow at them.

"I said what I said. She's going to be my new assistant." You pointed at Red who still looked so shocked.

"But we don't want to work with her!" Gahee groaned.

"So?"

Gahee's face turned pale because of your response. You arched your brow higher.

"It doesn't matter if you don't want her. She's going to work for me."

The interviewers went silent.

You see, no one could ever question your decision. You might be 'too soft' for some of them, but they still couldn't deny that you were damn good at your job. Your personality in the office was very different from what your family and friends knew. For them, you would always be that quiet little girl who couldn't speak for herself. In here, you were young, but sophisticated. A lion in a world full of kittens.

"Ms. Red Lee's my responsibility from now on. If you have a problem with her, you can talk to me."

This was the beginning of your friendship with Red. At first, she was skeptical of your intention. Why would you want to work with someone like her?

"Because I believe in you." You offered her a smile when she finally found the courage to ask you the question that had been bothering her since the first time she met you.

Red had been your assistant for months now; however, your co-workers still didn't like her. It was as though they were waiting for her to make a mistake.

She did.

"How's our case going? Did our client take the color vision test?" You inquired days before the trial of your client who wanted to sue the business person who sold her fake whitening products. This was a simple case. You didn't understand why your client wanted to go to trial; this could simply be settled without going to the court.

"There's no need for that. I've already talked to her."

"Hm?"

"Well..." Red took a seat beside you. She was blushing. "Remember when I told you I've met my soulmate?"

"Oh. Right!" You beamed at her. How lucky. "So did you break up with JK?"

Red told you she had a boyfriend named JK. You honestly didn't know much about him or their relationship, though you were informed that they had been together for almost a decade, unfortunately, they weren't soulmates.

"I did." The smile she gave you was sad. "But he didn't take it well..."

You didn't know what to say after that. Admittedly, you had urged Red to breakup with her boyfriend because you didn't appreciate that she was keeping him in the dark. It was unfair.

"But anyway," Red sounded so excited that you couldn't help but giggle. "I've talked to your client. I'm sure she can see color since her answer was right when I asked her if she can tell me the color of the shirt I'm wearing."

"Okay, then."

It was stupid of you to rely on Red's words and you knew it. This was the reason why you couldn't defend yourself when your boss humiliated you in front of everyone. As if that wasn't awful enough, your superior also excluded you from the biggest case you were working on.

Gahee was the new head of that case.

"I'm sorry!" Red was crying. You took accountability for what she had done. She was your assistant after all.

"It's okay, Red." You smiled despite the fact that you were breaking inside. Your boss made you look like a fool. You couldn't erase the image of your colleagues smirking that was circling inside your head.

You were no longer a lion.

"I-It's not okay! You lost the case!" She knew that you spent months working on the mentioned case your boss removed you from. Everyone was jealous of you. They wanted to handle that case. Now, Gahee had the chance. You lost yours.

You embraced Red. You couldn't bear to see anyone crying.

"But I'm still handling Mr. Kim Seokjin's case." You stared into her eyes. "That's the only case I want to handle. Trust me."

Red sobbed even harder. She understood what you meant. You lost the biggest case, but at least you were still Mr. Kim's lawyer. Again, his case was more important to you and Red.

"I'm going home. Is that okay? Can you handle yourself?" You couldn't work with a heavy heart. You needed to see Miri. You needed a bath. You needed a break.

Fortunately, Red let you go.

Ever since that day, your assistant became more hyperaware of your needs and wants. She was certain she owed you a lot. This was the reason why you couldn't understand why Jeongguk was crying now.

"G-Gukkie?" You swallowed hard when you saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

Again, Red knew what you needed. You were sure she gave you the correct recipe for kongnamul guk. So why was Jeongguk weeping as he ate the soup you made?

It couldn't be because it didn't taste good. You followed Red's recipe. It was perfect! Everyone loved her soup.

Your soulmate didn't answer you. He also refused to look at you. It was embarrassing enough that you could see his overflowing emotions.

Jeongguk wondered why the world was so cruel to him. He woke up a few minutes ago with a heavy head, and then the first thing he spotted was you.

You were standing near his feet; a lovely smile was plastered on your face. Jeongguk didn't understand why you were grinning at him like that.

Weren't you mad? He remembered everything that happened last night. He acted like an asshole.

Jeongguk's suspicion grew when you handed him an ibuprofen and a glass of water. Not only that, you also told him that you cooked soup to help him with his throbbing head. He was too tired and shy to refuse you, so without saying anything, he let you drag him to the dining table.

You prepared everything for Gukkie. The only thing he had to do was eat. The thing was, he couldn't even do that.

Tears filled his eyes the moment he tasted the soup. He was looking directly at you while bring the spoon closer to his mouth—this was how you acted last night. This was what pissed him off. You were scowling, making him feel like he was the worst cook ever.

How was he different from you when he was acting the same way? The only thing that changed was his expression. As said, he was crying instead of frowning.

It broke your heart.

"Say something please?" You begged. You felt your chest tightening. Did you make him cry? Were you wrong? Red's recipe was perfect, maybe it was you who fucked things up. Did you put too much salt? Too much bean sprout?

What was wrong?

Jeongguk shook his head, harshly wiping his tears away. He didn't say anything. He didn't make it seem like he hated the soup. Actually, he finished it within a few minutes.

"I'm going to my room." He abruptly stood up, hanging his head low.

"T-Thanks for the food."

The way Jeongguk acted made you realize that you couldn't really cook, not even when the perfect recipe was literally in front of you; however, this didn't stop you from making dinner that same day.

Your soulmate locked himself in his room since morning. He hadn't eaten anything other than that soup and frankly, you were getting worried. You didn't want him to get sick.

It was going to take a while to have your food delivered, so you just decided to cook instant ramen. It had always been your life savior.

"What are you doing?"

You stopped trying to open the stove when Jeongguk suddenly spoke up.

He instantly realized what you were doing, causing him to grimace.

"You can't eat instant ramen for the rest of your life, you know? It's very unhealthy." Jeongguk shook his head, disappointed.

You bit your lower lip. It was the only food you knew how to prepare by heart. You didn't want to upset him again by trying to cook something that didn't taste good.

"I'm gonna prepare our dinner." He announced and you nodded.

You were starving. It was Sunday, but you still needed to work. You stayed in the living room the whole day, talking to Mr. Kim Seokjin about his case. Miri wasn't around to keep you company. That cat of yours stayed with Jeongguk the whole day. What a traitor.

"Okay. I'll be in my room if ever you need help." You said.

"Wait!" Jeongguk held your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

"I-Is gimbap okay?" His voice was soft as he asked this. He realized he needed to talk to you about your likes and dislikes. He couldn't just prepare something and get mad if you ended up disliking it.

"Uh..."

Jeongguk could feel your hesitation. It wasn't like you hated gimbap, but you had too much of it yesterday. Red made twenty five pieces when you told her you were craving it.

"Tell you what," Jeongguk let go of your hand. "Why don't we just eat out? Do you like pizza? What about pasta?"

He kept on suggesting food you could try, but nothing was registering inside your mind. The only thing you could think of was this:

"We're going on a date?" Your eyes were sparkling.

"What?" Jeongguk asked, dumbfounded. Out of the many things he had said, this was the only thing you could think about?

"You said we're gonna eat outside! It means we're going on a date!" You were smiling shamelessly.

Jeongguk's eyes widened. He was panicking. He didn't know why his heart was beating so fast just by the thought of going out on a date with you.

"I-I..." He swallowed hard. "We could invite T-Tae and Jimin."

Jeongguk panicked more upon realizing what he just said. No. He couldn't bear to see his best friend right now. Jeongguk hadn't told anyone that he could see colors now—well, except Yoongi.

Jeongguk wasn't ready yet. He felt guilty. He knew he was the reason why you couldn't see colors. He didn't want Taehyung and Jimin to be disappointed in him. Besides, he didn't want the couple to pester him about liking you. Again, that wasn't going to happen.

Jeongguk was about to withdraw his statement, unfortunately, you were already telling him that it was a good idea.

"So how are you, Guk?"

This was the story how Jeongguk ended up eating sushi with Taehyung.

The couple accepted your invitation. The four of you were supposed to eat together, but Jimin claimed he needed to talk to you. Alone.

Taehyung didn't protest. He missed Jeongguk too. It had been a while since they last talked. This was the perfect time to finally catch up.

"Nothing new." Jeongguk shrugged nonchalantly.

"Really?" Taehyung raised a brow. He could tell when his best friend was hiding something. "So you don't consider being able to see colors as something new, huh?"

Jeongguk's head jerked up.

"You know!?"

Taehyung laughed. Of course he knew. You told Jimin and Jimin told Taehyung. The latter was simply waiting for Jeongguk to open up.

He couldn't wait forever though. Jeongguk could be stubborn sometimes.

"She also told us that you cried earlier..."

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. Damn it. You couldn't keep anything to yourself, could you?

"I did not." Jeongguk gritted his teeth. The tears forming in his eyes were in contrast to what he was saying.

Jeongguk indeed cried earlier. Taehyung could tell because the younger boy was crying again.

"Guk..." Taehyung caressed Jeongguk's clenched fist.

"Wanna tell your hyung what happened?" The voice of Jeongguk's best friend was like a lullaby.

Jeongguk cried even harder.

Truthfully, he was surprised with himself too. Jeongguk had always been emotional, but his stubborn ass refused to let other people see him cry. This was new. The Jeongguk Taehyung knew would keep his mouth shut.

The Jeongguk today couldn't stop talking.

"I got so drunk last night, hyung. She..." Jeongguk looked at Taehyung to make sure that he understood that the she he was referring to was you.

"She cooked kongnamul guk for me."

Taehyung was silent after that. He tried to understand what Jeongguk was saying. Sadly, he couldn't.

"Are you telling me that you're crying because she prepared a soup for you?" Taehyung sounded unsure.

Jeongguk shook his head; tears were still streaming down his cheeks.

"No. I was just reminded of..." He trailed off.

"Of what?"

For a moment, Jeongguk was silent. His heart was hurting.

"Of the mean things I've said to her." Jeongguk sobbed.

It was a bad idea to look at you while he was trying to eat. Jeongguk's eyes accidentally fell into your lips. It was swollen—a reminder that you still ate the garlic shrimp even though you were allergic to it.

Jeongguk felt like an evil person.

Why were you always so kind to him? No one treated him the way you treated him. It was too good to be true.

"Oh." Taehyung broke into a huge grin and suddenly, he was chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Jeongguk was talking in a pout.

"Nothing!" The best friend's laugh had died down, but he was still smiling. "Is she tricking me, then? Can't she really see colors?"

For Taehyung, it was impossible that you were still living a monochromatic life. It was obvious that Jeongguk cared for your feelings. However, Jimin thought the opposite.

"Seriously? God. I hate that brat so much!" Jimin didn't know that he was capable of hating Jeongguk, but after listening to your story, he couldn't help the annoyance he felt for your soulmate.

You were currently inside a restaurant that was just across the sushi bar where Jeongguk and his boyfriend were at.

Jimin missed you as much as Taehyung missed his best friend. The last time you two communicated was three weeks ago. You did tell him that Jeongguk was your soulmate and that he didn't seem to like you.

Jimin brushed it off at first. He told you to give Jeongguk some time. He failed to tell you that your soulmate just went through a tough breakup though. Jimin knew it wasn't his story to tell.

"Don't. Gukkie's a good person. He just didn't know any better."

"It’s because he isn't trying!" Jimin crossed his arms. He was aware that it was unfair to get mad at Jeongguk, but your best friend could tell that you were getting hurt because of your soulmate's insensitivity.

"If I were you, I would give up on him."

You shook your head instead of agreeing to his statement.

"Jeongguk reminds me of law school."

When Jimin raised his brow, you started to elucidate what you meant.

No one, not even your parents, believed in you when you told them you were going to law school. Sure, you were smart, but you weren't strong like others. You cry immediately. You couldn't handle harsh opinions. You couldn't even handle sleepless nights and intense competition. You hated conflict. You had always been a mediator.

Even Jimin tried to stop you. He asked you so many times if you truly wanted this. It's not that he didn't trust you. Your best friend was only concerned about your well-being. He was there when you were having a difficult college semester. Undergraduate life was clearly much easier compared to graduate school. Jimin couldn't let you lose yourself just because of law school.

But you were determined to prove them wrong. Yes, law school was hard, but you were stronger. If you remained passionate about learning the law, you knew you would become a lawyer.

Guess what? You did.

This was what you were holding onto every time you felt like giving up on Jeongguk.

Pain was nothing if you could make him fall in love with you.

"Jeon Jeongguk!" You shouted when you saw Taehyung and your soulmate walking out of the sushi bar.

You and Jimin had also finished eating.

Your soulmate looked at you with furrowed brow. He didn't understand why you were shouting when the two of you were just a few meters away from each other.

"I LIKE YOU!" You shouted once again. Your voice was so loud that people couldn't help but look at you.

You were gaining attention.

Taehyung and Jimin were laughing their asses off. Jeongguk tried to run away, but his best friend held him down.

"You're fucking crazy!" Jimin shook his head, still laughing when you started to form a big heart over your head.

"I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, JEON JEONGGUK." You continued.

Jeongguk was dying of embarrassment, but you didn't care.

You were sure.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to love you.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook e2l #jungkook series #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook roommate au #jungkook sugar baby au #ficswithluv #bangtan #btsfanfic #vmin fluff

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angstyaches · 3 years

Text

Alone (Hitori de)

So I feel like I’ve been teasing this OC’s introduction for... a long time?! So finally, here’s your invitation to Ryan Aldridge’s 200th birthday party!

CW: nausea, emeto, loneliness, jetlag, character overwhelmed by language

He was swaying a little – hopefully not noticeably – as he passed countless faces. Countless strangers who, no matter their differences, were all dressed in black and white attire; monochromatic dresses and stiff-looking suits were the order of the evening. All blending in, all the same.

However, most other people at the party weren’t hiding sweat patches under their suit jackets, or struggling to stand upright because of stomach cramps and dizzy spells.

Conversations blew past, the onslaught of the known, yet vaguely unfamiliar, language making everything worse. His hands were shaking, and the loneliness felt like an alien thing attached to his stomach lining, niggling away with the possibility that he wouldn’t find who he was looking for.

He lingered by the refreshments table, resigning to just grabbing a cup of water. There was a selection of food – as well as goblets of blood and various entrails for the strictly carnivorous guests – on display in giant, elaborate glass bowls, anyone’s for the taking. He averted his eyes from all of this; the thought of putting anything in his stomach right then made him want to retch, despite the fact that his last meal had been on a plane ten hours ago.

It could have been the three plane rides that were making him feel so horrible, or maybe it was the fact that his eating and sleeping schedule had been shaken around relentlessly over the past three days. Or was it two days? He couldn’t even get it straight in his head.

The cold water settled in his belly for all of a couple of seconds before he felt it gush back towards his throat. He hiccupped deeply, pressing a hand to his mouth just in case anything had made it all the way up. He glanced around, noting that none of the nearby guests had turned to look at him.

Feet swirled in and out of his vision as he stared at the floor and shuffled away from the table. Arms brushed against his and made his clammy skin crawl. His agoraphobia didn’t usually affect him as badly as his claustrophobia, but right now it felt like the two were ganging up on him.

He needed to get out of there.

He weaved through to the other end of the hall, mumbling “sumimasen, excuse me, I’m sorryyyy” all the while. He began to feel off-balance, like he’d accidentally put his tight dress shoes on the wrong feet. He somehow made it out of the function room and through the foyer, stumbling out into the night.

At the top of the glossy marble staircase that overlooked the mansion’s car park, he loosened his tie and undid his top button. His shirt felt soaked with sweat under his jacket, his hair curled and sticking to the back of his neck. Now that he was away from the party, he could hear his own stomach groaning in discomfort.

He sat down at the side of the top stair, leaning his head against a cool marble column. He was tempted to close his eyes for a bit, but he was afraid his jetlagged brain would put him straight to sleep if he did. He couldn’t imagine any of the Elder and elitists would be too pleased to find an unconscious Japanese boy slumped at the top of the stairs of this very fancy mansion. He could just imagine the scolding phone call he would get from Yumi if she caught wind of it all.

The cold air relaxed him for a few minutes, before he heard footsteps coming up from the car park of the mansion, as well as low voices speaking to each other. He lowered his head a little further, curling an arm around the side of his face to hide from whoever was coming, waiting with the other hand pressed into his gut for his moment of solitude to be restored.

Not that he wanted to be alone, exactly.

“- hear what she said?”

“I heard her, boo, but I still don’t think she meant it the way you’re taking it.”

“Yeah, well, I think you give them too much slack, honestly.”

He lifted his head to see the two figures who had just walked past him towards the entrance to the mansion. One of them was a tall, dark guy whose suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, revealing suspenders worn over a grey-and-white pinstripe shirt.

The other was a lot shorter, paler, and had vibrant blue-green hair. His suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt was silky and patterned like a chessboard.

His heart grew lighter in his chest and tears sprang to his eyes. A brand-new wave of energy struck his bloodstream and his nervous system, and if he’d been in fox form at that moment, he’d have wagged his fluffy white tail.

His legs carried him back inside without much input from his thoughts, and he couldn’t stop smiling to himself. Even the pain in his belly faded to the back of his mind; even the unsteadiness left him alone. The crowd didn’t freak him out as much as he joined it this time; because in the sea of black and white attire, he could see that mint-coloured hair.

It had been a silvery shade of lilac when he had last seen it, and it was about thirty feet away, buried in the crowd.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fee-kun!”

Heads shot up from drinks and conversations, but none of them were the right heads. Kazu began to giggle as more and more attention was drawn towards him, and it only made him more and more excited, more and more eager to –

“FEE-KUN!”

He looked this time, blinking in disbelief.

“Kaz?” Felix asked, eyes widening as started to push his way back through the crowd.

Kazu allowed himself a shaky smile.

“Kaz?” Felix squeaked, starting to run a bit now.

Kazu managed to brace himself in time for Felix to throw his weight towards him. He scooped the smaller boy into a hug; there was so much adrenaline in his blood that he mustered the strength to lift Felix up off the ground and spin him slightly before setting him back down.

Just like he used to.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s really you,” Felix gushed, clinging to Kazu for dear life. Kazu was a little wary of the pressure this was putting on his stomach, but he still laughed and continued to squeeze his friend back.

He also noticed the disgruntled looks that some of the older guests were throwing their way, but if Felix didn’t care, then Kazu certainly didn’t.

“Hisashiburi, ne?”

“Hisashiburi.” Felix’s voice cracked a bit as he nodded violently, his chin knocking against Kazu’s collarbone. It certainly had been a long time. Six years, to be exact. Felix still looked like the same twenty-three year old Kazu had known back then, whereas Kazu had gone from nineteen to twenty-five in that time.

“Genki?” Felix demanded to know, his voice warm beside Kazu’s ear. Are you well? His Japanese was nowhere near the level of Kazu’s English, but Kazu appreciated the effort. The rushed little greetings were making him feel a little less overwhelmed.

“Genki,” Kazu muttered, though now that he thought about it, he felt far, far from genki, and he didn’t feel good about lying to his friend. “Ah – I – I’m tired.”

“You look it, buddy,” Felix said as he pulled back, frowning as he scanned his friend’s face. “When was your flight in? Today?”

“Ah, uh, yes,” Kazu said shakily. “For me, yesterday.”

“Right, right.” Felix turned his head, beckoning for his taller, darker companion to join them. So far, he had been hovering a few steps below, but he silently came back up, letting Felix take his hand. The rest of the party had gone about their business by now, Kazu noted.

“Elli, you remember me telling you about Kazuhito, right?”

The guy nodded quietly.

“Kaz, this is Elliott,” Felix smiled.

Kazu glanced down, gulping back a mouthful of sour spit as he saw how the two of them were holding hands. He’d never felt anything romantic towards Felix, but he’d also never had to share him with anyone; when he’d come to Japan, Felix had been alone and completely helpless until Kazuhito had offered him somewhere to stay.

Now Kazu was the one in a foreign land. Now he was the one who was alone.

He was working himself up to repeating the name Felix had given, briefly panicking that he was going to mess up the L-sound. He wondered if he should just lean into a funny mispronunciation, to try to break the ice.

“Ni-nice to mee–”

Kazu swallowed mid-speech and clamped a hand to his mouth. The crashing waves in his stomach were even more unsettled after the jumping and hugging and spinning. The excitement and relief he’d felt upon seeing Felix was already ebbing away, leaving just nausea and exhaustion. He really didn’t feel like talking, not with how horrible his body felt, and not while there were so many people around. What he wanted was a bed, preferably his futon back home, but he’d have settled for anything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Felix asked, his eyes widening again.

“Ore – kibun – I…” Kazu mumbled into his hand, too dizzy to try to explain in English. He gently placed his other hand on his stomach for emphasis. “Onaka ga itai.”

“What, really? Your stomach hurts?” Felix glanced around, stepping closer again so he could put a hand to Kazu’s elbow.

Kazu moaned. He felt like the world was tilting on its side. He wanted to warn Felix of just how bad he felt, of the very real danger of –

Before he could make up his mind what to do or say, his body made a decision of its own, and his head shot forward with incredible force. His hand flew away and his jaw fell open, and he emptied out the scarce remains of his in-flight meal and all of the water he’d drank.

A beat of silence rang through his head after the splash.

His mouth was still hanging open wide as saliva and vomit dripped from his lips to the polished white floor. He slowly looked up to see that he’d puked all over Felix and his boyfriend, coating their shoes and the fronts of their clothes with thick white chunks and yellow liquid. The nearby guests had leaped back, shuffling about and looking at their feet and exclaiming things that Kazu couldn’t focus enough to hear.

With his stomach feeling somewhat relieved, Kazu felt his shoulders begin to tremble with a weak roll of laughter.

“Fucking hell, Felix,” the boyfriend growled, as though Kazu’s vomit was somehow Felix’s responsibility. His hands were hovering out from his body as he looked down at his destroyed shirt, his spattered suspenders.

Felix just gave a shaky smile and put his hand on Kazu’s shoulder.

“Fee-kun, gomen,” Kazu giggled, sorry, covering his mouth in response to both the laughter and the nausea that was rolling around for a second appearance. He gulped loudly, making Felix jump. “Go-gomen, ne…”

“Don’t – don’t be sorry, okay? Let’s just get you out of here. Excuse us, sorry, can we just –?”

Kazu let himself be directed back out through the doors and towards the top of those outdoor marble stairs again. His vision was fuzzy, but Kazu broke away and threw himself against a wall, doubling forward and ejected another stream of sick, this time into an elaborate flowerbed about ten feet below.

“Oh, gosh, the hydrangeas.”

Kazu tensed as he felt Felix come up beside him.

“Sorry, it’s – don’t worry, just get everything up. You poor thing,” Felix sighed, rubbing his back firmly despite the fact his dress shirt and jacket were now soaked through with sweat. With his free hand, Felix reached around and laid a cool palm against Kazu’s forehead. “I think you might have picked up a bug, maybe on one of your flights. You’re a tad hot. Atsui.”

“Atsui,” Kazu agreed, spitting away some of the sour fluid still pooling around his tongue and teeth. He lifted his head back from over the wall. He scoffed with nervous laughter as he looked at that first wave of sick again, soaking into the laces of Felix’s shoes. “Yabai. Sorry, Felix.”

“Daichi Kazuhito?”

A woman’s deep voice made Kazu turn his head. His guts felt even wobblier under her pale yellow gaze. She had frosty-white hair, almost as white as the streak that ran through Kazu’s, breaking up the silky black. He didn’t have to wonder who she was.

“Ka-Kazuhito desu,” he muttered. “Ryan-sama, hajimemashite. Tanjoubi omedetou…”

Felix cleared his throat. “He – he said it’s nice to meet you, and happy birthday –”

“Yes, thank you, Felix,” Ryan said evenly. Without any change in her expression, she began to address Kazu, in Japanese, explaining that she was good friends with Yumi, which he’d already been aware of. He had to really focus on what she was saying, not just because of her accent, but also because his belly was still churning, despite its contents now being spread out across Felix, Elliott, and the mansion’s hydrangeas. His ears pricked up at certain words, especially when he realised she was asking him a question. “Hitori de?”

Kazu nodded miserably as his fever- and jetlag-induced fear was pounded into his chest. He began to press a hand against his belly again, as the nausea began to melt into a dull, twisting ache.

“Hi-hitori de,” he said in a quiet voice. He had come here alone. One person. Just Kazuhito. He mumbled softly that Yumi sent her apologies, but work had been too hectic for her to take time off to travel.

As he spoke, he felt Felix reach up to brush his hair back from his sticky forehead. Kazu felt goosebumps breaking out all down his back and his arms.

“He can stay with us, can’t he, Ryan?” Felix asked softly. “Seeing as he’s sick. He helped me out a lot, back when – well, when I was in a much worse state than this.”

Ryan pursed her lips. “Elliott’s already headed for the car.”

A warm glow spread through Kazu’s chest as Felix linked an arm through his elbow and pulled him close. “Thank you, Ryan. So, we’ll see you at home tomorrow?”

“You will, indeed.” Ryan looked Felix up and down swiftly, eyeing the vomit stains on his pants and shirt. “Wash those trousers immediately. You can burn the shirt. It’s an insult to good taste.”

Felix laughed to himself as she stalked off, and Kazu finally eased the last of his weight up from his elbows, up from the edge of the wall. He felt his stomach gurgle, the sound traveling right up in his throat. He burped uneasily into his fist and smiled awkwardly at Felix.

“Come on,” the bright-haired boy coaxed. “Let’s get you out of here, before you puke all over these lovely steps.”

#my ocs #oc sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #oc emeto #emeto sickfic #sick boys #new OC #Kazu #Felix #Elliott #yes Elliott got puked on and didn't kill anyone #stomach bug #jetlag #travel bug

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wally-franks-stan · 4 years

Text

Gordon’s vision is full of an endless, swimming blackness… what the fuck?

It’s cold, and he can faintly hear voices.

It’s unpleasant. And confusing. What is this?

He doesn’t have time to think about it any more, though, because in a flash of amber light he’s suddenly falling face first into hard wood flooring.

God, he can’t catch a fucking break, can he?

Gordon quickly gets up from the ground, looking around and taking in his surroundings.

He’s in a short corridor, made of wood and colored in a monochromatic sepia. The corridor ends in a door on either end. Otherwise, it’s fairly bare, aside from the large splotch of… ink(?) on one wall.

There’s ink on his HEV suit too, actually. He’s glad he has an actual hand now and not a gun, or worse, an open wound.

The air here is stale, and dusty. The whole hallway seems dusty.

Gordon takes a step and nearly trips on his crowbar. He didn’t remember having that… wherever he was, but he also doesn’t remember how he got here in the first place. He leans over and picks it up.

Time to figure out where the hell this is, and more importantly, how he can leave and go the fuck home.

Gordon chooses a door to go through at random… only to find that it’s locked. The other one is too. He lets out a long sigh, then remembers what he’s currently holding in his hands.

This will be the first time he uses the crowbar for anything within its intended purpose.

After some difficulty in getting it wedged in between the door and the frame, he manages to pry the door open. Not as fun as he always imagined it.

Gordon steps out into the room he pried his way into. It’s small, the walls lined with pipes and shelves, and the floor covered in puddles of ink. He spots an old looking cassette player sitting on one of the shelves, but honestly he can’t be bothered to investigate further. He’s more interested in the stairs leading out of this room.

He heads down the stairs, just in time to catch sight of someone ahead of him.

Gordon quickly ducks back around a corner, then peeks out after a moment of waiting. The man doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet.

…He has an axe.

Gordon is glad his experiences in Black Mesa made him a bit more cautious. He doesn’t doubt his fighting ability, but still… being sliced up by an axe is not on his bucket list.

Though could an axe even pierce the HEV suit?

Focus, Gordon.

Figure out if this guy is friendly, and if yes, ask him if he knows the way out of this dump.

After following him for a little bit, Gordon has decided that he is probably friendly, or at the very least, won’t attack immediately.

And he’s just about to catch up and introduce himself, when an awful groaning comes from above him, along with some ink dripping down on top of him.

He realizes that the groaning was coming from the imminently collapsing ceiling a second too late. He lets out an undignified shout as the boards collapse on top of him, and he’s drenched in a good bit of ink. It didn’t really hurt much, but it was still startling. And the boards are heavy. Not enough to crush him thanks to HEV suit, but enough that he can’t really move much.

All the noise got the other man’s attention, and he quickly peeks back around the corner, his eyes wide.

Gordon, struggling to free himself from the boards, meets his eyes. “...Hi.” He says after a moment of awkward silence.

Gordon’s voice causes the man to flinch ever so slightly. He seems… is he scared?

“I’m not gonna attack you.” Gordon says, trying to be reassuring. “And even if I wanted to, I can’t really move much right now.”

This seems to reassure the man enough to get him to come out from behind the corner, and Gordon can get a better look at him.

He’s short and somewhat chubby, with greying red hair and fair skin. He’s very disheveled looking, his clothes ink stained and wrinkled. He has dark bags under his eyes, his glasses are cracked and dirty, and his hair is unkempt.

There’s a cocktail of emotions visible in his expression. Mostly confusion and shock, some various forms of conflict, a dash of fear, and the tiniest bit of hope. They’re mostly conveyed in his eyes, as if the concept of emoting is foreign to the rest of his face. Like he’s spent so long expressing nothing but resigned indifference that he’s forgotten how to emote at all.

Gordon has never been particularly great at reading people, but he can tell this is a very broken man.

“You… are you real?” The man asks hesitantly. He seems unsure of himself.

“I… I think so, yeah?” Gordon responds.

The man just looks down at him for a moment. He doesn’t move, or say anything. Then he closes his eyes and mouth, and pinches his nose.

Gordon is confused for a moment, before he realizes the man thinks he’s dreaming… wait, why didn’t Gordon try that? He could be dreaming for all he knows… though the boards currently crushing him feel pretty real.

The man releases his breath, his confused and shocked expression becoming even more pronounced.

“You’re… I’m not dreaming. This is… you’re real.” He says, though he still seems uncertain.

“Yeah, I guess I am…” Gordon responds. “Uh… could you give me a little help?” He asks after casting a glance back at the rubble his lower body is stuck in.

The man blinks a bit, like he had only just noticed Gordon is stuck. He lays the axe up against a wall, and walks over to give Gordon a hand.

With a bit of help, it’s pretty easy for Gordon to wiggle his way out of the boards. He brushes himself off a bit, and pulls his crowbar out from under a board.

“Thanks.” He says with a gentle smile.

The man just nods, not saying anything.

“My name’s Gordon.”

The man is silent for a moment, staring into space. His brow is slightly furrowed, like he’s trying to remember something. “...I’m Henry.” He finally says after a couple seconds of thought.

The two of them stand in silence for a moment, before Henry turns around and picks his axe up.

“We should get moving.” He says, beginning to walk without even waiting for Gordon. “It’s not safe to linger anywhere for too long.”

Gordon frowns. He wants so badly to ask why, but at the same time, he really doesn’t want to know.

Henry begins to lead down a short hallway, and as he reaches the end, Gordon remembers why he had wanted to approach Henry.

“Where are we right now?”

This question causes Henry to pause, and look back at Gordon with confusion in his eyes.

“You... don’t know?” Henry asks, his brow furrowed. “How did you get here?”

“I have no idea, I just woke up here.”

Henry’s confusion intensifies. “That’s… strange.” There’s a short pause. “What… what year is it? Outside?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s not sure if he wants to know the answer.

“I’m not really sure, actually. I’ve been given a lot of conflicting information from a lot of probably untrustworthy sources.” Gordon admits a little sheepishly. “It’s uh… some time past 2007, I think…?”

What little color there was drains from Henry’s face. “...What?” His voice is so, so quiet. Quiet enough that Gordon isn’t sure he actually spoke, or if his mind is playing tricks on him. His expression is still oddly blank, but his eyes are shocked and horrified.

And then, like the rest of him finally caught up with his mind, Henry breaks down. The axe slips from his grasp, falling to the floor with a clatter. “No… it can’t be…” He buries his face in his hands. “No no no no...no…” His words trail off as he breaks down into sobs.

Gordon doesn’t know what to do for a moment, only able to watch dumbfounded and wonder why the date garnered this sort of reaction.

Then some sort of instinct to comfort kicks in, and he calmly approaches Henry. He reaches to gently place a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Henry recoils from Gordon’s touch. Perhaps that wasn’t the best way to go about this. Gordon retracts his hand, and lets it lie at his side.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

It takes a moment, but slowly, Henry calms his breathing down enough to speak. “You… it’s not your fault… you didn’t do anything wrong,” he mumbles, his voice unsteady and weak.

There’s a moment of silence. Then Henry moves his hands from his face, so he can meet Gordon’s eyes.

“If what you said is true,” Henry begins, and pauses to steady his voice. “I’ve been… I’ve been stuck here for more than 40 years.” His voice is quiet, and so utterly devoid of hope it threatens to crush Gordon’s heart. He regrets ever saying anything about the year. But..

More than 40 years?

That… raises some questions.

“And you’re…” Henry’s gaze drops to the floor, utterly defeated. “You’re probably stuck here too.”

And there it is. Gordon should have expected this. Of course he isn’t going to be able to go home. Why would he? Every time he thought he was finally free something else happened. Some new trauma to add to the pile.

He just wants to go home. He just wants to see Joshua again.

“No. There has to be a way out,” Gordon responds, his far more determined than he actually feels.

Henry doesn’t speak; he merely shakes his head.

“Maybe… maybe you haven’t been able to get out because you need someone else to help. There has to be a way out. We just have to find it.”

Henry finally looks up at Gordon again, and the tiniest glimmer of hope is visible in his eyes. Gordon can almost hear him thinking.

“You… you could be right.” Henry says after taking a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes. “This could work.” His determination is a little forced, but then again, so is Gordon’s. And Henry is probably aware of that. But forced determination is all either of them can muster, and it’s what they’ll have to work with.

Henry shoots a genuine, albeit small, smile at Gordon. “Thanks.”

“No problem man,” Gordon replies, a little awkwardly.

Henry picks his axe up from the floor. “We should get moving.” He turns and swings his axe at the boards blocking the door he had been heading for before. They break easily, and as soon as they’re out of the way Henry opens the door and steps through.

Gordon has decided he wants to stick close to Henry, so he’s not far behind. He does not like what he sees in this room.

There are several coffins around the room, some of them leaning against the walls, and some laying on the floor. Just. In the room along with the regular furniture. But that’s not the worst part.

The worst part is the arcane circle drawn on the floor, complete with lit candles around the perimeter. It’s not a pentagram, but it still can’t be good.

And Henry is walking straight into it oh god what the fuck is he doing-

“Wait, don’t-“ Gordon starts, moving forward to grab Henry and keep him out of the circle. But before he can, Henry just… collapses. Unconscious on the floor.

An awful chill runs down his spine.

Were those footsteps behind him?

Gordon whirls around, his crowbar held tightly in his hands.

“Who’s there?” He demands. There’s no reply. At least none he can clearly make out. But he swears he can hear whispers-

There’s an awful, throbbing pain in his head all of a sudden… his vision is blurring. He’s dimly aware that he’s stumbled into the circle. The whispers grow louder.

A moment later, his legs give out, and he falls to the floor. He hits his head, but he hardly notices.

As his vision fades, for just a moment before it goes black he can just barely see a dark figure standing above him, and hear a voice, ringing clear over the whispers.

“Well isn’t this interestin’...”

#its finally here!#i hope yall enjoy :)#remember reblogs > likes #batim #bendy and the ink machine #hlvrai #gordon hlvrai #crossover #batim x hlvrai #gordon freeman in bendy and the ink machine #henry stein #my writing #my art #hlvrai gordon #batim au #long post #gordon freeman #half live vr but the ai is self aware

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cursedhxhposts · 3 years

Text

An Odd Morning

Pairing: Reader x Surprise Character

Authors Note: Thanks so much for the 1000 followers to this cursed blog :) I had a lot of fun writing this for all of you and I hope you enjoy it too!! I hope you all have a very wonderful day!!! I’m putting a read more option on it, because it is very long. Check the end for more notes!! thanks again you guys are great :)

The warm morning light flitted through the slightly open window, and gently hit your eyes as you woke up from your pleasant dream. You could feel a cool breeze wisp away at the covers, causing you to shift just a bit, when you suddenly felt a pair of warm arms around you, holding you tighter.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around to face the person who held you in their embrace, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as your gaze landed on Mizai’s features, which were glowing in the morning light. His face looked ever so peaceful as he continued snoring on, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, completely oblivious to the world around him. You lightly traced the sides of his face with a finger, causing him to groan slightly before he tightened his hold and inched closer to you, his lips ghosting along the nape of your neck. Together, you basked in these few moments of soft innocence before it was time to start the day.

Sighing contentedly, you remembered the events from the night before, when you swiped right on him through a dating app called Nender, and recalled his sweet and honeyed words. He was just different from everyone else on the app; you had seen a man with a tattoo on his forehead who seemed like he was part of some cult, a man who looked like he was trying to get into med school, so you knew his schedule screamed busy, and finally, someone whose profile picture was just a dick pic with something written about gum. In reality, this was more of an accidental swipe, a type where your friends had your phone, and during the utter chaos of trying to get it back you swiped right. But boy were you glad you did.

The night consisted of a fancy home cooked meal with some wine, followed by a scary movie, and finally, just falling asleep together. It definitely had the potential to go somewhere more, and you weren’t ready to give that up.

Mizai’s breathing shifted and he blearily opened his eyes in your direction, smiling before gently pulling you in for a kiss. As he was pulling away, he kissed your nose again before softly smiling.

“Good Morning Y/N, did you sleep well?” Mizai asked.

“Good morning,” you replied, smiling back at him shyly. “I slept well.” Especially with your arms around me, you wanted to add, but didn’t. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he groaned while stretching before slightly turning, taking you along with him. “I wonder what time it is...”

He glanced at the clock, noting that it was 9:23 in the morning, before sighing and pulling you closer to his chest. A few minutes went by, filled with blissful silence, before you begrudgingly tore yourself away from Mizai, dressed in one of his many black and white spotted shirts. It was quite oversized on you, and you remembered when you first saw his black and white closet:

“What?” He had asked, chuckling. “You can’t put a price on fashion.”

That was an understatement, because with the size of his loft apartment and the sheer amount of clothes he owned in the same monochromatic scheme, this guy was clearly loaded.

He looked up at you, catching your hand before you could move it away, and brought it back down to his chest so he could lightly caress your knuckles. Then, with his lidded eyes still locked onto yours, he kissed them.

“Where are you going?” he mused.

“I was just thinking about getting out of your hair so you can go on with your day,” you replied, absentmindedly tracing little figures onto his chest.

“Nonsense, I don’t really have anything planned with my day. So I’m all yours if you’d like,” He smiled.

“Okay...but–”

“No but’s, Y/N. I’m having a great time with you.” He chuckled, “You can use my shower if you want, I’ll go ahead and make some breakfast for you. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” You smiled.

“Good, fresh towels are underneath the sink, and if you don’t want to wear any of your clothes from yesterday, you can pick something out of my closet.” Mizai leaned up to give you a kiss on your cheek before hopping out of the bed, giving you a wink before he made his way down the loft stairs and towards the direction of the kitchen.

You got out of the king size bed, the satin sheets slowly slipping off of you before your feet hit the cool wooden floors. You walked into the large bathroom, sidestepping a few decorative pillows that were thrown haphazardly to the ground.

You grabbed your discarded clothes from the plush desk chair in the corner of the room, deciding that you’d just put those back on and proudly own up to your future walk of shame whenever you decided to go back home. The cold tile of the bathroom hit your feet, and the bright light hit your eyes, before you closed the door to get ready for the day.

After you finished getting ready, you headed down the stairs to go to the kitchen, where the smell of food hit your nose, and you saw Mizai making some pancakes by the stove. You snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, as he turned slightly to say “You’re just in time, the pancakes are all done.”

“Smells good,” you said, helping him set the table before sitting down.

“What would you like to drink? I got water, orange juice, milk,” He paused, and then added jokingly, “Or some wine from last night.”

“I’m good with either water or milk,” you chuckled.

“Ookay, here’s your water, and let me go grab your milk really quick,” he said, doing a slight jog to the second, smaller refrigerator which was stocked full of milk. You couldn’t recognize the brand, but you were certain that it was probably from a local farm or something.

After you both finished breakfast, his phone lit up, with a dog emoji being the only thing close to a name on screen. He answered, before dropping his head in his hands and sighing, having heard what the other person was telling him.

He ended the call, letting out a disappointed breath, and then looked at you with regret in his eyes as he said, “I’m so sorry I really wanted to spend the day with you, but it looks like work called and I have to go in for a meeting.”

“Oh… that’s okay, how long is the meeting?”

“Probably around thirty minutes or so if two of the members don’t stir up any drama. Otherwise, it’ll most likely be about an hour and a half filled with boring presentation slides filled with fireworks in the background.” Mizai groaned.

“Oh well that’s not too bad, I could drive you if you want, and then just wait out in the lobby or whatever? I mean, I don’t want to impose, I can also just leave and let you get on with your day…” You started to ramble.

“No, no I’d love that. You wouldn’t have to wait out in the lobby or anything, you could honestly hang out inside the conference room. Pariston probably won’t bring up anything important; I mean, it’s not like the chairman died or anything, so I’d think it would be fine.”

“Okay cool, is it okay if I take this with me?” You gestured to the milk bottle.

“Yeah of course!” He smiled, “Just let me get ready really quick and then we can head out.”

You went onto your phone for a bit, texting some of your friends who were hungry for more info about this mystery man, and how your night went with him. Thirty minutes went by like this, and you became so engrossed with messaging your friends that you didn’t even realize that Mizai had walked down the stairs and up to you ever so silently, until he was startling you by asking, “You’re not talking about me are you?”

“Uh, no?” You replied after your heart slowed down again.

“I’m just kidding, are you ready?”

You nodded, and the both of you headed down the complex together and to your car.

It took less than ten minutes for you to arrive, and even though you were starting to feel nervous about going to the meeting with him, Mizai reassured you with a gentle squeeze from his hand. You smiled up at him and gently nudged your shoulders together as he led you to the conference room.

Mizai opened the door, allowing you to step into the Zodiac council chamber before him, clutching your bottle of milk as you took in the scene in front of you. Some people in bizarrely dressed outfits seemed to just be talking. A scruffy looking man with an odd hat and seemingly dirty clothes seemed to be mumbling to himself some ancient text from an archaeological ruin or something. And a blonde man in a very expensive looking suit was just on his computer, browsing at what seemed to be more designer suits.

He must be Pariston? You thought as you smiled shyly to all the people in the room, who had all stopped to look at the bottle of milk you were holding.

Pariston looked up with the rest of them, and greeted both you and Mizai warmly with a seemingly kind, but dangerous, sort of smile and offhandedly commented, “Ah, so I see we are partaking in Mizai’s milk today.”

Your body ran cold as the entire world around you came screeching to a halt…

“...His What?”

End Fic :)

A/N: for anyone lost, this is referencing to a headcanon earlier in the year where Mizai has udders and makes his own milk :) that has absolutely cursed me, and I hate it. Also this is literally right before everyone finds out the chairman died. I told you it was gonna be cursed.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #pariston #ging #mizaistom nana #hxh mizaistom #cursed fic #i can't believe i spent four hours of my life writing this #hisoka #leorio #chrollo #x reader

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floosies · 4 years

Text

Beechwood Park

pairing: 60′s au (Richard Madden x oc!poc!fem!Reader)

summary: In the late 60′s Cynthia was struggling model who’d just about reached her wits end and succumb to her parents wishes for her to continue her studies. Mr. Madden would say otherwise though.

warnings: age gap, smut, cursing, 18 + material

Series Masterlist

3. Smoke Dreams

Her mind couldn’t stop thinking about their private moment in the hallway. About his hands and how quickly he had her feeling like jelly. She’d only kissed a boy once at a birthday party when she was ten. Kissing him wasn’t like that, it was different in such a good way. She wasn’t innocent she knew what sex was and even though she was still pure, there were many men who she knew were waiting for a chance at her.

One thing that was for certain though was he called again. They talked about it in whispers whilst Stella was still in the flat. She’d confessed that she had gotten the callback and had a photoshoot in the weekend. Mr. Egerton had agreed to be her agent and he’d send a car for her at 9 am sharp. Mr. Madden was happy to hear that she was doing well, but he had other plans.

Richard wanted to spend more time with her. His plan was to have a getaway with her in the upcoming week. He’d planned everything, he even went through Taron to make sure she was available. It did catch Cynthia off guard how well informed he was about her schedule. Stella wasn’t surprised at all, “I think he wants to be your daddy at this point.” She said playfully as they ate dinner “oh please. I am far too young to be married, besides he’s practically an old man. Why would he want me?”

Stella loved Cynthia like a sister, she really did, but god could Cynthia be so daft sometimes. They were watching some shite show on the telly when Stella brought it up again, “he looks at you like a dog looks at a bone. He wants you, and honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up having you.” Cynthia didn’t want to admit the truth, but she had a feeling that her best friend was right, “I am not his type. I can’t be, look at me.” Goodness, “this is England love. That thing doesn’t matter here. Let him have a chance at ya, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

With that, the weekend came. Sure enough the girls were ready for a small holiday in Brighton. Mr. Egerton of course had his photo shoot first, it went swimmingly. The photographer loved Cynthia, and Mr. Madden was there, well everyone was there.

Richard could see her star power from the moment she began posing for the camera. It made him want her more. An intelligent woman with looks that could make him fall weak to his knees, he couldn’t wait to have her alone. A celebration dinner was in order for the first night out of the little holiday. Taron being a good wingman brought along an old uni friend, Dominic Cooper, his tastes and profession similar to Stella’s.

One would think that these pairs were couples from just seeing them together. Richard and Cynthia in their mod fashioned clothing, opposing Stella and Dominic in their monochromatic black outfits inspired by poetry obsessive intellectuals. Taron was the odd one out, but he still was in many of the conversations going on in the dinner table.

A conversation on relationships came about during dessert and it was very interesting to say the least. Stella made it a point to bring up the use of the word daddy as a nickname for a woman’s husband, “does a woman really want to reminded of her father?” Everyone laughed, but Cynthia quickly added, “I agree no one wants to think of their father, however I think it’s endearing really. Daddy seems like a title deserved if he really acts like what a daddy is supposed to be.” This intrigued everyone at the table, Taron raised a curious eyebrow. It was Dominic though who asked the question, “so how does a daddy behave Ms. Ridge?”

Cynthia could feel the heat on her face rising, she was in the hot seat now. She took a good drink of her champagne before answer, “he should be like Prince Phillip, modest and handsome.” Dominic rolled his eyes, “a monarchist. I knew it!” Stella laughed, “it’s only fitting for a woman of her intelligence and poise. Cynthia my dear you are extraordinary as always.” It seems everyone was content with her answer. It calmed her beating heart down a bit, she finally looked over at Mr. Madden who gave her a wink before finishing his last bit of champagne.

Dinner ended nicely, Mr. Egerton reminded Cynthia she had some reshoots the next morning and then his car arrived taking him back to his beach front home. Stella and Dominic had hit it off, this led to Dominic convincing Stella to go with to a some poetry club near the hotel they were staying. This left Cynthia with Mr. Madden, she knew it would end well enough.

They were staying in the same hotel, “finally a moment alone.” She shyly grinned, “yes finally.” Into a lift they went, “so am I like Prince Phillip then?” Cynthia was caught a bit off guard, “oh. I umm..well...I suppose-” “darling I was only teasing. Besides would you ever see this old man as your daddy.” Her answer was a surprise to both of them, “I wouldn’t mind, if you’d want me.” They’d arrived on his floor and before she could react he was practically puling her into his room.

When the door closed a series of deep kisses began. Clothing was flying everywhere, but she had to stop it quickly, “Richard I’ve never-” he cut her off. “It’s okay. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” The lust was there though, “I want you to do everything just be gentle.” That was all that needed to be said. His lips began to trail sloppy kisses over her body until he’d reached her core.

She’d never done anything like this, she felt something warm and wet. Then she felt a wave of pleasure as she realized it was his mouth. Looking down she saw his eyes staring at her. Her hands tangled into his hair as she slowly rode his face, it was so good, too good that she couldn’t control herself from climaxing. He went back up leaving more bruising kisses over her body. Cynthia didn’t know much about sex, but she was willing to try. Before he could do anything else, she turned them over and began descending to his groin.

Her hands tugged on his member, she saw his head fall back with his lips parted open. She wanted to go further, but she wasn’t quite sure how to, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to love,” Richard’s voice coaxed raggedly. She still continued the soft pulls and tugs, “I just don’t know how is all.”

Richard was somehow more turned on by her innocence, “it’s just like an ice lolli,” she went straight in. He fell back onto the bed, just the sight of her like this was enough for him. If she kept at it he wouldn’t last much longer. Gently he pulled her away, “I want tonight to be about you darling.” She laid under him again, his right hand trailed to her core again, gently teasing her bud whilst the other hand toyed with her breasts. He watched as her chest rose and fell heavily. He could feel the slick building up in his fingers.

Pulling away he heard her small whines for more, he quickly went for the condom in trousers. Cynthia’s heart was racing, she couldn’t deny she wanted him but when she saw the size of him she wondered if it would even possible. He had just put on the thing, “it’ll only hurt at the start.” His fingers went to work again on her bud as he entered her. The pain was starting to be greater than the pleasure.

He whispered sweet things in her ear and kissing the nape of her neck as he fully entered her. She was trying her hardest not cry, instead focusing on kissing him and his voice. After a minute or two, the intensity of the pain died and dulled, her hips began to rock against his member. Soon as he felt her wanting for more he began to slowly bottom out and move into her again. It didn’t take long for her to begin enjoying the feeling.

She had her arms draped under his shoulders, his head was nuzzled into her neck as he tried he mask his groans into her skin. Trying to hold back her moans was something that was getting difficult as the pleasure continued to build. Then she just couldn’t hold back, “p-pl-please harder.” He smirked, “I’ll do whatever you want me to darling, just say that I’ll be your daddy for life.” She moaned out a chant of yeses.

Her legs were beginning to tremble as he thrusted and then he hit her sweet spot, and he knew it was it from the way she gasped out and arched her back. Her skin was glistening with sweat, she looked like an angel, the way she was tightening up around him, he knew she was close. He pulled her into almost a sitting position, “you’re close aren’t you darling?” His voice was shaky, and she was in bliss at this point, “oh daddy.” This only made him speed up his pace, “that’s right be a good girl for daddy. Daddy’s got you love, let go darling.” His fingers worked on her bud as he thrusted into her sweet spot. A strangled moan left her lips as she rode at her high.

They laid sprawled out, he was giving her a chance to catch her breath before running her a bath. Her eyes trailed to him, he was covered in her lipstick it made her giggle, he raised an eyebrow “what is it?” She smiled, “my lipstick is all over you.” He looked down seeing kiss marks and stains everywhere, he simply shrugged, “your lipstick looks good on me.” She moved in closer to him, “did you enjoy your first time?” She looked up at his blue eyes, nodding. He smiled, “do you really mean you want to be with me?” She was going to be the death of him, “of course I do. Now let’s run you a bath and then go to bed,” but if she would kill him, he would die with a smile.

#richard madden #smut #poc!reader #oc!female #60s au #1960s #taron egerton #dominic cooper

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

NATM 2 Rogues (Sans Kah) x Teddy Roosevelt (Super Platonically) || Oneshot

Title: I Was Made In A Mannequin Factory In Poughkeepsie

Notes:

This may become a series. For now though, enjoy the meeting of Teddy!

Plot: Even though Larry has agreed to travel with the tablet between the three museums, seeing as it wouldn’t be fair to out of the blue bring all these things and people (back) to life and then dump them back into non-existence, it was deemed necessary to move Kahmunhrah’s ‘business partners’ to the Natural History Museum so they’re far away from Kahmunrah’s gate and cant even ponder bringing him back- because that is undesirable outcome, for everyone.

After they arrive at the museum, most of the other exhibits (Sans the good old Easter Island Head and Dexter) keep their distance from them. Everyone’s uncomfortable about this move and change, and that’s understandable but it doesn’t feel good at all… until Teddy steps in.

Warnings: I guess, exclusion? But don’t worry, Teddy will fix it

~~~

“Its is a… nice museum, I suppose.” Ivan, the first to talk when they leave their crates -Larry had yet to figure out a place to put them or construct exhibits for them,- the first night at their new home, 3 hours after the sun went down. They had been busy wondering around the halls, exploring the new playing field together… thinking. Now they stand together, alone, back with their crates in a hallway.

No one had come to greet them unless you count the Easter Island Head asking for ‘gum gum’- but they had looked at them, for sure. Some scowls, some glares, but most they were wary looks as people walked away. Its not that the three men expected a warm greeting, but they didn’t really expect news about them to spread so fast, either.

Napoleon takes a deep breath, breaking out of his thoughtful trance and glances up at Ivan. It was be impolite to leave him without a response when he’s attempted -however blandly, - to fix the mood… Looking around the place quickly, Napoleon notes the tall ceiling and the railings. “Uh, oui, it has some beautiful architecture, Ivan… “

“I like the colour of the wood.” Ivan adds, continuing the conversation because what else is there to do?? If this aloneness is any indication of how they’ll be living for the rest of their time here, then theirs no point in sitting and being solemn about it. Al, on the other hand makes a face at the Tzar from his place sitting on his crate beside Napoleon. Napoleon nods in agreement, looking around at the floors with risen eyebrows.

“I agree, it’s very, uh, museum-y.”

“Da.”

Theirs a lapse of awkward silence in the conversation, before Napoleon promptly turns to Al. “What do you think of the wood- “

“Oh nah, nah, nah, don’t look at me. I’m not playing this game with you people.” He takes his hands off the crate on either side of him for the first time since he sat down and rubs the lines left there from how tight he was gripping. “We’re all thinkin’ the same thing. You saw what I saw, how they’re lookin’ at us. They know about Kahmunrah and us. We ain’t safe here.”

Ivan’s eyebrows raise up his forehead. “Are not safe??” That’s a little bit of an overreaction, isn’t it? He was thinking maybe they were looking at a long, lonely life with just each other but… peril? What? That was not on the radar!

“Oui, I agree with him. Ivan, haven’t you heard of Caesar?” Napoleon looks forward again, face growing darker. “A great leader… like us… stabbed thirty-seven times in the middle of a crowded room. These rooms feel like that when we’re in them.”

“I’m sure you are overreacting. These are all but peasant, who- “Ivan immediately squints, on realising what he said. He looks for an even amount of time between Al and Napoleon, suspicious. “Wait.”

“If I was gonna kill you, man, I’d do it my Tommy.” Al raises his gun, rolling his eyes at Ivan. “Which doesn’t work, as we all know.” Ivan and Napoleon nod slowly at that, remembering Al’s idiocy that the man himself choose not to mention. He puts the useless gun back down in his lap. “Besides, probably couldn’t get a knife through all those layers on you, anyway.”

Ivan spares another suspicious look at the back of Al’s head. Then they watch some faceless soldiers pass by them in the hallway, ignoring them completely.

“So, what are we going to do about this??” Napoleon asks, a high and impatient tone in his voice and he whips around the face Al. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve already died once and I do not look forward to giving that red, horned beast another chance at me.” When he was alive, Napoleon would have never mentioned the Devil outright like that. He never would have suggested he was going to that place, in the first place.

… but now he knows how he’s remembered. He knows what parts of his life he’s judged on. The blood, the fear, and the death. He doesn’t see why deaths judgement will be any different.

Ivan takes a deep breath in, hearing Napoleons words like a stab through the gut, and looks furiously at him, but stays quiet. He’s right…

“Me neither. Boys, we need a plan.”

Ivan immediately rejects one part of Al’s phrase. “I am not one of your monochromatic minions, Alphonse, refrain from calling me your ‘boy’.”

And Napoleon, another. “For what?! Its not like we can charter a carriage and travel back to Washington in our condition!”

Al takes in a deep, refrained breath of his own this time, and slowly turns threatening around to speak quietly to Napoleon, first. “Mate, no one charters carriages anymore anyway. They’re called cars, now. And of course, I wasn’t suggesting that- don’t assume I’m an idiot!”

“I beg to differ! I think it would be much safer for us all if we all assumed that!”

“I’ll get right back to you, Froggy. And Ivan! I don’t take kindly to being told what not to d- “

“Ah! There you are!”

The new voice startles the 3 out of their budding argument, and the all turn down the hall towards where the Easter Island head is planted- to see an older man with a brown moustache, a jolly smile on his face and his hand on the handle of a sword coming towards them. Ivan raises an eyebrow, confused about who this could possibly be and why he is coming towards them so familiarly, Napoleon whips out his own sword and jumps to his feet, and Al just watches the 26th President of his country speed walk towards him, dumbfounded. None of them are yet used to historical figures they know, being alive also.

As soon as Teddy stops in front of them, he calmly raises his hands in surrender. “No, no. Sorry, sir. I just hold the handle of my weapon, so it stays still while I walk. I should’ve known better- my apologies.”

Napoleon holds Teddy’s stare for a moment… Ivan and Al watch the tension a little worried and a little amused… and then the general puts his sword back away on his hip. Something about the way this man calls him ‘sir’, acknowledging their military positions and the kind sparkle in his eyes… Napoleon tries to calm down again, as Teddy smiles to them all in turn, under that moustache of his.

“Good evening, men! I apologise that I’m late. I meant to greet you as soon as we awoke for the night, but I’m afraid there was an unfortunate run in between our night guard and a monkey. Just routine stuff, don’t worry! Its settled now.” He offers his gloved hand to Napoleon, the closes to him, first. “Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President. Don’t be afraid to call me Teddy, though. I’m not president anymore.”

The way he says it makes them all think he’s joking about not being a leader anymore. Like it doesn’t actually bother him, and none of them understand it.

But they move on, anyway. It’s something to discuss later, anyway.

They all shake their hands and introduce themselves, and Teddy nods his head. Once introductions are over, his hands both touch the sides of his thighs in, nearly a ‘A-Ten-HUT!’ kind of stance, spine completely straight. Ivan and Napoleon appreciate the good form. “So, I trust you’re settling in here well? Everyone is being welcoming??”

Al takes his hands, puts them on Ivan and Napoleons arms and prods them out of the way so he can go toe-to-toe with ‘Teddy’. They just give him dirty looks and shuffle to give him room, Ivan rolling his eyes at Al’s temperament. Such a child. “Actually bub, they been givin’ us dirty looks all night. We feel like them slaves, in Rome, ‘bout to be thrown into the auditorium with the lions!”

Napoleon sighs deeply. Coliseum… not, auditorium…

But Teddy doesn’t disregard Al’s statement because of a small mistake, like any superior Napoleon new, would have. His face fills with concern and frustration. “Well, I’m very sorry you feel that way. I told them to… we had a meeting… “Teddy’s face looks positively stormy, for a few moments there, a stark difference from his earlier cheer. Al feels pride well in him, getting such a serious reaction. He thinks, maybe this guy, who’s clearly the leader of this motley bunch, will get some executions going now! That’ll be great! This place is about to get a real glow-up! -

… That is, until Al truly recognises the expression on the older mans face.

Its not murderous. He doesn’t even think he describe it as ‘pissed’.

More like… disappointed. Like a mother about her children.

Al sets himself back onto the heels of his feet as he had popped onto his tippy toes. Good god, what kind of Brady Bunch shit has he walked into?

Finally, Teddy sighs, kisses his lips and comes to a conclusion. “Well, we’ll fix that. Come along, men! We’ll introduce you to the group!” He starts walking off back down the hall the way he came, calling loudly to the Easter Island head that honestly creeps Ivan out a bit, to please call a meeting.

Napoleon, Ivan and Al look at each other for a moment.

… Follow? Or stay behind?

Or, more specifically, go force themselves out of their comfort zone and make acquaintanceships, or cage themselves in to a lonely rest of their time here and possible assassination?

Ivan turns, squares his shoulders and follows the ex-president first, followed by Napoleon with his nose in the air, and finally an uncertain Al. “Fine, but I aint trust none of ‘em.”

#Night At The Museum Fanfiction #Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian #Al Capone #Ivan The Terrible #Napoleon Boneparte #natm al capone #natm ivan the terrible #napoleon natm #Teddy Roosevelt natm #Larry Daley

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