#maybe the reason his stuff makes my fucking skin crawl. more testing is needed. this basically happens every time I engage with his work

[giantkillerjack]

I am trying so hard to learn how to recreate junji ito's style, and I literally think that the line work is so detailed that my poor little crippled wrists are not up to the task

But! I think I have figured out a way to work around that using pre-made cross-hatching brushes in clip studio! Which means hopefully I can focus on getting down the major shapes of his illustrations, and then i can learn how to fill in the ludicrous amount of tiny tiny little lines digitally!

and THEN I am going to draw characters from the video game Don't Starve Together in that style! And vice versa. I would love to draw a cute little chibi of Tomie 😈☠🙀

Time to crack into the file entitled "scary boi jail" that I keep on both my phone and my computer, so I can trace a bunch of panels from Uzumaki.

Happy Twisted Flesh Tuesday, everyone!!

#original #junji ito #dst #tomie junji ito #Don't Starve #Don't Starve Together #my end goal is to better develop my stylization and horror skills overall and the best way #to learn is to just draw literally whatever makes me happy #can't believe it's Saturday and it's already Twisted Flesh Tuesday #both styles make heavy use of crosshatching and spirals. I think I can do something with that #oh my poor little wrists #I would never care so much about cross-hatching usually but it really does seem to make his work way more upsetting? #and that is the skill set we are here to build after all. I really like horror art. and it's important to my graphic novel #I think maybe the combination of hyper realistic meticulously shaded details with increasingly distorted and unnatural anatomy #maybe the reason his stuff makes my fucking skin crawl. more testing is needed. this basically happens every time I engage with his work #we'll see how far this particular wave of hyperfocus gets me #all I want is to be a master of Horror and also to draw the scariest version of Maxwell from don't starve that anyone's ever drawn #is that so much to ask? #scary boi jail is where all the scary art references I find live. it is 90% junji ito #in case it wasn't clear the twisted flesh is not my own admittedly janky joints it is a hallmark of this horror style i want to emulate #if I can recreate a style then I can incorporate the parts I like best into my own style.

[vegalocity]

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

--

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

--

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

--

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

--

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

--

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

--

send me stuff!

#Silktea #Silkteashipping #Affection meme #vega writes stories too #letters to vega #Spider Queen wins the Spider Clan pot though she denies ever betting anything #but Minyi put in three sticker packs and a yoyo for her bet and she could have SWORN she saw them in the lair by Spider Queen's stuff

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || You’re Pregnant But He’s Busy [Request]

Disclaimer: I know it said to break your heart and I hope I achieved it but I had to make a happy ending, you guys are turning me fluffy what have you done to me…I’m turning soft

Seokjin:

"Are you sure?" Namjoon asked as he passed you a bag of flour, you began measuring out what you needed and nodded at his question. Of course, you were sure.

"I've taken seventeen tests Namjoon, all but one were positive." Namjoon seemed to be more thrilled about the news than you did but it wasn't that you weren't happy, you were ecstatic but there was just one problem that was getting in the way and it was that this pregnancy wasn't planned and you and Jin hadn't talked about having kids together yet. Sure you were married to one another but you didn't know if he was even ready for kids, he was always so busy with his job which you understood because of who he was but sometimes it was just lonely.

"So you're going to tell him today right?" Namjoon asked reaching for one of the cupcakes you had made but you slapped his hand away telling him to keep his little hands-off,

"Yeah, is he at the studio all day again?" Jin had been working triple the usual amount so you hadn't seen him much only adding to your loneliness but you hoped this would make him feel better and start coming to you more.

"Yeah, he's working on some more guitar tracks, I have to go. Let me know how everything works out." Namjoon said kissing the top of your head and leaving your shared house with Jin. Namjoon and you had always been close friends and it grew closer as you and Jin became a couple, it was nice to have someone to talk to about stuff that wasn't always Jin or your mother.

(X)

You walked up to the studio that Jin always worked in and knocked five times letting him know that it was you that was at the door and not someone else.

"Hi baby, I brought you something to eat and to remind you to take a break." The cupcakes were all under a small tray in your hands spelling out the words 'I'm pregnant' along the tops of the cupcakes in pink and blue icing. The cake batter was one of Jin's favourites and you'd been trying to get it perfect for weeks, you wanted this to be a special way of announcing it to him.

"Thanks." Jin mumbled not even looking in your direction, you laid the cakes down onto the table and watched him from behind hoping he would turn around and greet you soon since you were wearing a 'Number one Mummy shirt' but he wasn't moving any time soon.

"Jin?" You whispered not wanting to annoy him but also wanting him to notice, he groaned turning around and looked at the table.

"Your baking sucks baby. I'll just order in." You felt a ping in your chest but you ignored it looking at the back of his head as he turned back around to face the computer screen.

"Jin will you just look at the cupcakes?" You questioned and he groaned yet again staring straight at you,

"Were you always this annoying when we were dating, fuck!" He mumbled getting up to look at the cupcakes but since he was in such a mood he ended up knocking them onto the floor,

"Fuck sake!" He yelled out,

"This is your fault you know! If you just stayed out of the way and stopped being so god damn fucking clingy this wouldn't have happened." Your eyes filled with tears as he yelled at you like that, he booted the tray of cakes and you ran out of the room while he bent down to look at the now smushed up cakes that probably didn't spell anything out.

"Oh damn. The cakes...Were you really that happy about being a dad?" Namjoon laughed coming into the studio to find the cakes in the bin, he figured Jin had just gotten excited and knocked the tray over.

"A dad?" Jin questioned turning away from the computer to look at Namjoon who knew he'd fucked up,

"Didn't Y/n tell you?"

"No, she just brought me cupcakes and ran out when...I started yelling at her." He said slowly, he began to realise what had happened and then looked at Namjoon who was frowning at him.

"Why did you yell at her?"

(X)

"Jagi?" You ignored Jin as he crawled into bed that night, you were pretending to be asleep not wanting to talk to him after what he'd done in the studio but he wasn't about to give up on trying to talk to you.

"I know you're not asleep if you were asleep you'd be making those cute little snoring noises." You rolled onto your side so you were facing the wall instead of him and he sighed laying down behind you and spooning against you. His hands went down to your stomach where they rested against it running his thumb up and down the non-existent bump that was there.

"How far along?" He whispered in your ear,

"12 weeks, I have a scan on Friday." You mumbled not wanting to talk to him since he hadn't even said sorry for what he had done earlier. He could tell you were trying your best to come across cold and he knew it was his fault for yelling at you the way he did,

"I have no excuse for why I yelled like that, but you know I don't find you clingy right?" He whispered wanting you to know that he really didn't find you clingy. He loved that you were always coming to check on him at work, it was one of the many reasons he married you.

"I love you with all my heart and I promise never to get mad like that and snap again." You hummed and he kissed your cheek,

"I'm sorry." He whispered to you and as soon as the words left his mouth he felt your body relax and turn around to face him,

"We're going to be parents." He whispered to you before kissing your forehead and listing names he'd liked the sound of.

Yoongi:

You'd been planning this with Hoseok and Taehyung for weeks and it was finally going to happen. You'd managed to convince Yoongi to take the weekend off and go with you to a cabin out in the middle of nowhere for some alone time but it wasn't going exactly as you had planned. Yoongi had brought along his laptop so he could work from home completely disregarding the words ''weekend off'' and working non-stop. The plan was to tell Yoongi you were pregnant while you were drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace on the first night there but the first night there was spent in bed alone while Yoongi was sitting at the kitchen table and working away. The days were spent the same way, he was busy working so you were left lonely and needing something to do, you'd finished the three books you'd brought along with you and you'd even managed to complete a puzzle or two that were in the cabin. You were used to being alone that wasn't the problem, the problem was that he told you he was going to take the weekend off and yet he'd brought work along with him and you felt like the third wheel. The second night was spent the same way as the first night there, you didn't get to tell him you were pregnant and so you were determined to tell him that night, the third and final night you had there even if it meant hiding his laptop away until you could finally tell him the words.

He'd just gotten out of the shower and was dressed in his Pj's and you had hoped for a second that he was going to go and sit with you but he walked into the kitchen and looked around for a couple of minutes.

"Baby, did you move my laptop?" He questioned coming back into the living room of the cabin, you looked up from the ice cream tub and nodded at him.

"I did, I'll give it back to you if you come and sit with me." You told him but he grumbled something under his breath asking for you to give it to him now.

"Yoongi, please. This is important." You said back to him taking the ice cream tub you were eating from and putting it down onto the coffee table. You'd been trying to do this all weekend and there was no way you were going to stop now, it was the first time he wasn't clung to the laptop like it was a second skin for him.

"More important than stuffing yourself until you get more fat? First, you drag me away from work and then you take away my laptop, you're just so god damn clingy and annoying!" You stared at him in shock and then down at the small bump that was starting to show,

"I'm getting fat Yoongi because I'm fucking pregnant." You snapped getting up from the sofa and going into the bedroom to get the precious laptop for him. You pulled the laptop out from under your pillow and pushed it into his chest, ignoring the shocked expression his face.

"Pregnant?" He questioned staring at you but you ignored him and went back into the bedroom of the cabin slamming and locking the door behind you so he couldn't try and worm his way back into the bed with you. Yoongi stared at the bedroom door in shock wondering why he'd been so mean to you but it was all starting to make sense, why you brought him out here to tell him and not just back home. You wanted him to be excited about it and to have privacy to tell him about everything and yet there he was being mean to you, yelling at you and even ignoring you all weekend.

(X)

The drive home was awkward and uncomfortable he tried to make some kind of conversation with you about the baby but you ignored him staring out of the window and turning up the music that was playing on the radio trying to drown out whatever he was trying to say to you but he wasn't going to give up.

"Are you planning on ignoring me forever?" He questioned pulling into a drive-thru and ordering your favourite food, the smell of it making your mouth water and the pregnancy craving side of you beg you to talk to him.

"Maybe." You mumbled taking the burger away from his hand and biting into it while he stared at you the entire time smiling softly as he watched you eating the burger.

"I'm sorry I told you that you were getting fat." You shrugged your shoulders at him wiping your mouth on a napkin,

"It's true, I am." You laughed looking at the small bump that was under your shirt,

"But you're getting bigger to accommodate for our baby," He said reaching his hand out and laying it on your stomach, you nodded at him again and he smiled sadly.

"I promise I'll try and be there more, I won't keep taking weekends off and bringing work with me." He began to ramble on about how he was going to make this work and you shook your head at him telling him everything was fine.

"We'll make it work Yoongi," You promised him leaning across and giving him a kiss on the cheek, he smiled starting up the car again and finishing the drive back to the shared home you had together.

"I can't wait to tell the boys." You bit down on your lip and looked at him,

"What?" He questioned as he glanced at you before putting his eyes back on the road in front of him,

"Taehyung and Hobi already know, they were the ones who helped me plan the weekend away with you." He groaned looking at you again and then back to the road.

"By the time we're back, everyone will know." He joked taking your hand in his and holding it while he changed gears.

Hoseok:

You'd seen Hoseok stressed before but this was something else he was always coming home late and when he was home he would sleep and not speak to you or he would just be silent the whole time so you were debating giving him the news about your pregnancy. Jin had been hyping you up since the moment he found out you were expecting and he'd been wanting you to tell Hoseok as well, Jin was the worst at keeping secrets in the group and you knew that all too well.

"Hobi?" You asked when he walked through the front door that night, you had a bubble bath ran for him and made sure it was a relaxing setting for him. You'd even started cooking his favourite meal so he would feel comfortable with you again but he grumbled something you didn't hear and went straight to the bedroom.

"Hobi?" You whispered following him up to the bedroom and watching as he fell down onto the bed, he was dripping in sweat meaning he'd been working on routines for him and the boys again, he was always working hard and you loved that about him you just hated that he would get to the point of this kind of stress.

"Leave me alone. I've been busy all day and I just want five minutes alone, is it too much to ask!?" He yelled making you jump a little, you looked at the floor and then back up to him.

"There's a bath run," Was all you said before you went downstairs to give him some alone time, you knew how stressful his life was so you weren't going to sit up there and stress him out some more. You were just going to wait until after he calmed down and destressed to tell him about the pregnancy.

"I'm starving," You heard him say and you got up from the sofa going into the kitchen and taking out his food that had been waiting in the oven for him.

"I made your favourite," He kissed you cheek and sat down at the table starting to eat,

"There's something I want to tell you and it's important." You said to Hoseok, you sat down on the chair in front of him and watched as he rolled his eyes back at you.

"Another shopping sale and you need money?" You frowned looking at him, you'd never once gone to him for money because you worked for your own cash and paid for your own things.

"No, Hoseok this is about something else. About us, I know you're busy-"

"You have no idea how busy I am. Fuck. If this is because I'm never home then get over it, I have more important things to keep my mind on than making sure I'm home every night to you. You're the reason I'm so far behind on coming up with new dance routines you know, I'm always late and it's not fair on the boys," You stared at him as he ranted off the things that were wrong with him at work and blamed everything on you like you had some sort of control over his life and what he did at work.

"My fault?" He nodded getting annoyed with the topic of conversation,

"You always want me at home, you're always so goddam clingy and distracting!" You nodded slowly at what he was saying and he scoffed getting up from the table and going up to bed.

(X)

The next morning he woke up to find that you weren't laying beside him in the bed and he frowned, normally he would have woken up to find you curled up into him. Even if you had a fight you always woke up together it was just how it worked, he got up from the bed to look for you but found no sign that you were even in the house. It was 5 in the morning and you had nowhere else to go so he was starting to get worried when his phone started beeping, he turned off the alarm and saw a couple of calls from Jin.

"You're up early." Hoseok laughed to Jin but Jin didn't laugh back,

"Why is your girlfriend asleep on my living room sofa and not in her bed where it is comfier for her and the baby?! Did you kick her out Hoseok just because she's pregnant?!" Jin asked but the line went dead so he stared at the phone and then over to your sleeping body, he'd given you a spare key for emergencies so he assumed this was one of them.

Hoseok bursting through the door was what woke you up and you stared up at Jin who was looking at a sweaty and panting Hoseok,

"Did you run all the way here?" He questioned but Hobi ignored him going over to you and dropping to his knees in front of you on the sofa. He took your hands into his and he stared up into your eyes,

"Jin you told him!?" You yelled looking away from Hoseok and over at Jin who was now making a run for the stairs.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You stared at him and bit your lip,

"I tried to tell you last night but you snapped at me." You sniffled and he stared at you sitting down beside you and bringing you into a tight hug.

"I had no right to snap at you, none of it is your fault ever...I'm sorry I'm just-"

"Stressed. I know and I'm sorry I'm pregnant but it takes two to make a baby," He shook his head at you kissing the top of your head.

"Don't be sorry baby, we're starting our family." He whispered happier than ever to know he was going to have a baby soon and he promised that he would start taking it easy at work and spending more time with you instead of stressing out to the point he was at last night.

Namjoon:

You'd noticed Namjoon had been a little more stressed out than usual but you assumed it was because it was comeback season and he was trying to make sure that everything was perfect and that he and the boys were ready.

"Jimin I don't even know if I should tell him yet." You said over the phone to Jimin, you were sat in the wardrobe of your shared house with Namjoon talking to your best friend on the phone about the pregnancy. The only reason you hadn't told Namjoon yet was that he'd been so busy you hadn't even seen him for longer than half an hour and that half an hour was spent talking about how his day had been going.

"He's busy with comeback season, I should wait." Jimin sighed from the other side of the phone, he was in the dorms with the rest of the boys. He'd phoned to tell you that Namjoon was on his way back so you would have time to hide the ever-growing collection of baby clothes you'd been buying on the sly and he'd questioned you about why you hadn't even told Namjoon yet.

"He's not too busy to know his wife is pregnant," Jimin grumbled and you sighed looking into the box of baby items, it would be nice not to hold it all back from him.

"The front door." You mumbled hearing Namjoon coming into the house, you stared into the box and then at the phone in your hand.

"Tell him tonight," Jimin said before hanging up and leaving you in silence. The floorboards on the landing creaked and Namjoon came into the bedroom falling down onto the bed and he rolled over so that he was looking at you sitting in the wardrobe. As soon as his eyes registered what you were doing he rolled his eyes at you,

"We're not ready for a fucking baby Y/n, You keep buying all of these baby clothes like it's going to happen sometime soon and it's not. We're not ready. I'm hardly ever here and when I am I'm back and forth to the studio all the damn time." You tried to interrupt his rant but he continued to go on and on about it,

"Not to mention you being pregnant would only make you extra needy and you'd get so clingy!" You stared down at the baby jacket you were holding and then wiped the tears away from your face.

"You're right." You mumbled trying not to let on that you were really hurt by his words,

"Good. We're not ready for a baby. I don't even know what I'd do if you were right pregnant right now, neither of us has time for one." He rolled onto his front continuing to talk into a pillow so you silently walked out of the room and went into the spare bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you so that he couldn't come into the room.

(X)

Later that night Namjoon woke up from his nap and groaned that his back was hurting, he looked around the room to see you weren't there so he went downstairs to hunt for you but again, you weren't there.

"Jagiya?" He called out but there was no answer, he went back into the bedroom and noticed that the wardrobe door was still open and the light was left on so he went inside to check it out.

"For fucks sake," He grumbled at how messy you were and how annoyed he was that you'd left everything out when he found a pregnancy progress book. He flicked through it and found an ultrasound,

'Mini Namjoon or mini Y/n?' was written around the sides and on the back was a small note on it talking about how Namjoon was busy so you'd gone with Jimin for the scan.

"Shit." He whispered getting up from the floor and going on a hunt for you again,

"Jagiya! Open the door!" He screamed banging on the spare bedroom door, you woke up staring over at it tempted to get up but then you remembered everything he had been saying to you earlier in the night so you stayed on the bed not wanting to move.

"Leave us alone Namjoon." You called out only confirming what Namjoon knew so he continued banging on the door telling you he wasn't going to stop until you opened up and let him in.

"Jesus Namjoon. You'll wake the whole street up-" He dropped to his knees in front of you and lifted up the baggy shirt you were wearing,

"What are you doing?" You questioned but he shook his head playing his ear against you as if he could somehow hear the baby if he was silent enough.

"You don't have time for us, remember?" He groaned as you walked away from him he knew how well you could hold a grudge but he was determined to make you okay with him again.

"I didn't mean it, I've just been stressed...You know I've always wanted to be a dad y/n." You looked down at the bed and sat down on it resting your hands on the small bump and sighing.

"I didn't tell you because I was scared, you'd been so busy lately-" He walked over to you and kissed your lips softly,

"I'm sorry I've been so busy baby, it's just this time of year and I-" He stopped talking when he saw you nodding along to what he was saying, you knew what comeback season was like. You'd been with him long enough to know how life got when he was comeback season.

"I promise to make more time for you and our little mini Namjoon or mini you." He sat down beside you on the bed and you laid your head on his shoulder talking about all the things you'd been reading and then begging to show him the baby clothes you'd been buying over the last couple of months.

Jimin:

The plan was to just come right out and tell him everything, you'd been trying for a baby for a long time together and it was finally happening you assumed he would be happy about it all. You had noticed that he was a lot busier with work and he was stressed about something that was happening but you assumed that once you told him about the pregnancy he would be less stressed out and happy about it. You'd made dinner for you both that night and laid the table with little tea lights, the dinner was everything that you could find that was baby related, baby carrots, baby peas, and just anything that had the word baby in it hoping to somehow drop the hint that you were pregnant but the door slammed shut and you stared at him.

"What?!" He snapped and you ignored it knowing he was probably just annoyed with someone at work,

"I made food," He sighed coming into the kitchen and sitting down with you, you ate in silence and he hadn't noticed anything so you knew you were just going to have to come out and tell him about it all.

"Did you notice anything odd about dinner?" You tried to ease into it but he just shook his head and scrolled through his phone as though he wasn't even bothered about being at home with you,

"It was all baby-related items." You laughed softly but he wasn't paying attention to you so you sat in front of him and tried to come out and tell him but you were stuttering over the words and your hands were starting to shake.

"Just say it y/n, whatever kind of crappy joke you have just tell me. I'm really not in the mood for it though." You stayed silent and he urged you to continue,

"It's..it's not er, it's not a joke I am- I'm-" He groaned pushing himself out from under the table and left the room shouting about how annoying he found it when you stuttered,

"So fucking annoying!" He yelled but you rushed up after him knowing you had to tell him now or never but he just shook his head at you.

"Can I just have five minutes when you're not clinging onto me, for fucks sake Y/n!" You moved away from him and he shut the bathroom door turning on the water. You slowly walked into the bedroom and took out a pen and paper, writing down what it was that you were trying to tell him. You left the note on his pillow before going down the stairs to leave the house, you didn't want to be there when he found out that you were pregnant you didn't know what his reaction was going to be so you thought it would be best to leave for now.

(X)

Jimin found the note and panicked instantly, he'd tried calling you but you weren't answering your phone. He'd rang your family to see if you'd gone to them but they said they hadn't spoken to you that day and he was freaking out running out of the house to try and find out where you would be hiding.

"Is y/n here?!" You heard Jimin at the front door of the dorms and Taehyung hummed in response, you'd gotten there an hour ago and decided to hide out there until you could figure out what to do. None of the boys knew you were pregnant but you'd wished you'd told them so you would have someone to talk to about all of it. That way you wouldn't have felt so overwhelmed about everything when you didn't know how to tell Jimin, Taehyung had made you a coffee and you were going to tell him everything until Jimin found you there.

"What happened?!" You heard Taehyung ask but Jimin ignored him going into the living room to see you sitting there with a cup of coffee in your hand,

"It's not good for the baby." He said taking the cup and putting it down on the coffee table beside him, you stared at him a little surprised that he was standing in front of you and telling you what was good and not good for the baby you were carrying. He'd obviously seen the note in that case.

"Baby?!" Taehyung yelled but both you and Jimin ignored him as Jimin tried to get you to look at him and talk to him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you and called you the things I did but I didn't mean it. You know that." You ignored him not believing he didn't mean at least one or two things he'd said.

"I've just been so stressed out with work I didn't know what to do and I didn't mean to yell at you." You looked at him and you could tell he was being sincere and you smiled softly at him as he looked at your stomach,

"So you're really?" You nodded and screamed loudly jumping up from the floor and looking around the dorms, yelling about how he was going to be a dad.

"WE'RE GOING TO BE PARENTS!" He screamed to Taehyung who had walked over to congratulate you both making you giggle as Jimin continued screaming about being a dad to anyone who could hear him which from the sound of his voice was probably the entire street of people.

Taehyung:

You'd flown out to the tour destination the boys were currently at, it was yours and Yoongi's grand plan to reveal to Taehyung about your pregnancy and give him the great news. The only reason that Yoongi knew was that before the tour had started he found a pregnancy test in his bin at his place and questioned you about it. You'd tried to play it cool telling him it was a fake but it didn't work and you ended up telling him you were expecting and that you didn't know how or when to even tell Taehyung. The only reason you were flying out was that you were starting to show and it was going to be hard to hide it from the paparazzi that were always lurking outside your house that you shared with Taehyung.

"Where is he?" You questioned Yoongi when you got to the room he was sharing with Taehyung,

"Shower." You looked at Yoongi who honestly seemed a little more excited about this whole thing than you did but you loved that he was happy about this.

"I'll go downstairs and wait. Let me know how it goes." You laughed and watched as he walked out of the room. Taehyung had no idea you were flying out to see him so when he opened the door you expected him to be shocked but he looked disappointed that you were there.

"What are you doing here?" You assumed he was just tired from the tour but he seemed really annoyed that you were there and as though he didn't want to see you.

"I have news I needed to tell you." You placed your hand over the small bump but he wasn't looking,

"What is it?" You began trying to talk to him but you started rambling on it was something you did whenever you were really nervous about something.

"Shut up! I can't stand when you ramble on like that it's so fucking annoying. God! Just when I thought this tour would be a break from you you come up and ruin it by being clingy." Your heart broke as he spoke to you like that, he'd never spoken to you like that before and you were shocked.

"I erm...I-"

"Don't start crying or stuttering it only adds to how annoying you are." He went back into the bathroom so you made a run for it, leaving everything in the hotel room and going to find Yoongi who happened to just be getting into the lift so you sprinted to catch up with him and stood with him trying not to cry in front of the other people with you.

"What happened?! That was too quick for him to have-" He saw that you had tears in your eyes and he felt his blood boil at the mere thought that Taehyung had been mean to you. At the next floor, he got off and took you with him going towards the stairs and taking you back to his shared room.

(X)

"What?!" Taehyung snapped at you both when he opened the door and he was shocked to see Yoongi pushing you into the room and sitting you on the sofa. You stayed silent and stared down at the floor not in the sharing kind of mood anymore now that your boyfriend and the father of your baby had yelled at you.

"You will listen to what she has to say to you," Yoongi ordered and Taehyung sat down on the opposite sofa to you in the room,

"Tell him." Yoongi folded his arms over his chest watching you both closely, he knew that Taehyung had been stressed lately but there was no reason he should have taken it out on you since you'd done nothing but support him over the years of your relationship.

"She's fucking pregnant." Yoongi finally said for you when he noticed you weren't going to say anything, Taehyung's facial expression changed from the cold one to a soft one and he stared at you as if silently questioning if it was true and when you nodded he rushed over to your side staring at you.

"Why did- How did you- Why does Yoongi know?" You stared at Yoongi who was still staring at the back of Taehyung's head waiting for him to say sorry for what he had said to you but you told him it was fine.

"Yoongi knows because he found the test back home." You admitted and Taehyung sighed bringing you into his arms and never wanting to let you out of them again.

"I'm sorry I snapped...I didn't mean it, I just- I've been so stressed out with everything I just-" You understood why he said what he said but it didn't make it hurt any less and he was never going to stop saying sorry for what he had said.

"When do you go back?" You shrugged your shoulders, it was all depending on when he wanted you to leave. You'd packed enough for the last month of their tour so you were set if he wanted you to stay which of course he did. Now he knew that you were carrying his child he never wanted you to leave his sight. He wanted to make sure you were okay and that he would be able to look after you.

"I can leave if you want me to?" He shook his head holding your hand tightly and telling you he didn't want you to go, he wanted you to stay with him as long as you could.

Jungkook:

When you found of you were pregnant the first person you should have gone to with the news was the father, Jungkook, but instead, you went to his leader Namjoon. Namjoon was the leader of the boys and was somehow the most mature out of them all so he would know what to do in this kind of situation and he was over the moon for you. Giving you advice on how to tell Jungkook and how to deal with management when the time eventually came for you to talk to them about it.

"Are you going to tell him tonight?" Namjoon questioned as he poured you a cup of tea, you were sitting in his studio talking for the sixth time that week and Jungkook heard you. He stopped outside the door wanting to know why you were hanging around Namjoon so much lately.

"I'm planning on telling him Namjoon, it's just hard...I don't know how he's going to take it." You whispered setting the box on that you had on the table. Inside was a keychain that when it was lit up had the words 'I'm pregnant' flash across it.

"He'll be okay y/n." All Jungkook saw was Namjoon's hand reach across the table and take yours, he threw the door open and started yelling about how no one could be trusted with anything.

"So you're just sleeping with him!? Who else have you been sleeping with?! God! I don't give you attention for a little while and you go running to the next bed is that it?!" He yelled going on and on about how clingy you were before you picked up the box from the table, you weren't scared of Jungkook you were just upset by his words and how he so easily accused you of cheating on him with one of his best friends. You slammed the box against his chest and Namjoon watched you leaving the room in silence.

"You're a fucking idiot." Namjoon scoffed staring at Jungkook as he opened the box and found the keychain inside. He clicked the button and his mouth fell open as he realised what he had just said and done.

"Y/n!" He cried out trying to catch up to you down the hall but you took off in a sprint and hid in the women's toilets.

(X)

Yuju stared at Jungkook who was sitting on the floor outside the women's bathrooms and he told her that you'd locked yourself inside and he couldn't get in.

"Y/n?" She called out telling you how desperate she was for the bathroom so you would come out, once out Jungkook followed you out towards the small garden in the BigHit building. It was secluded from the outside world but it was still some fresh air that you had been needing.

"I would never, ever cheat on you Jungkook I thought you knew that." You whispered looking at him and he saw that you had been crying since you left the studio, he reached out to hold you but you stepped away from him not wanting to go near him if he was going to accuse you of that again.

"I didn't mean it, I've just been under stress-"

"You don't think I know that I've been trying to give you space which is why I went to Namjoon, so I would know when would be the best time to tell you." He looked down at the keychain he was holding and he sighed looking at the flashing words. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your lives and yet here you were crying to one another because he'd been nasty to you about it all.

"I was an idiot, a jealous idiot and I'm sorry-"

"Do you really not trust me?" You questioned looking at him, you were serious about this. You couldn't be with someone if they weren't going to trust you and Jungkook grabbed your hands in his.

"I trust you more than anything...I was just stressed and I didn't anything I said." You stared into his eyes trying to find any sign that he was telling the truth and he was.

"You should have just come to me right away." He whispered as he stared at the keychain again never wanting the battery to die but always wanting the words to be on display for him to see.

"Namjoon said the same thing but I knew he would know what to do with management, I didn't know who to talk to about it all." You admitted staring at the flashing words with him and smiling as he smiled brightly.

"We're really going to be parents?" He questioned and you nodded at him taking the keychain and holding it closer to his eyes.

"I have a scan in two weeks...Will you come with me?" He nodded and kissed the tip of your nose, promising you that you wouldn't have to go through any of this alone and that he would be there every step of the way to hold your hand.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts reaction #bts reactions #seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin #kim seokjin #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #hoseok x reader #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

#lillith masterlist #lillith writes #lilliths writing

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Loyalty

A/N: I got inspiration for this piece from the Tumblr account @xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx​ (I got their permission to tag them!) however I think they’re a wonderful writer and always one of the top ones with a huge amount of Gerard x Reader fics that I keep on crawling back to. They have a work called “Gotham City Rivals” (with two parts) that I fell in love with and decided to do my own spinoff of with their idea. I also don’t know that much about any DC comics, most of Gerard’s character in this is based off of Bruce Wayne, but I didn’t do a bunch of research so I apologize for any inaccuracies. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Batman!Gerard x Catwoman!Reader Word count: 2,781 Warnings: Angst, minor fighting, swear words, injury, mentions of blood.

You slipped off your skin tight suit with a harsh gasp, your teeth grinding together at the rough cuts that the latex and leather of your suit now brushed against. Yet the sounds of a hot shower and the steam that you could already see promised some element of relief to the pain. “You alright?” You heard your boyfriend walk in the room, armor still on in it’s completion besides his mask and gloves that he was currently carelessly throwing on the marble counter.

“Yeah, I think so.” You responded, examining the damage of your wounds in the mirror. “Not the worse I’ve taken.” Reflecting back on the various gun shots and stabs you’ve received over the years.

He came over, standing behind you. His metal armor always looked so good on him, solid black with small decals that you felt lucky enough you only got to see. He gave small kisses on the cuts and bruises along your shoulder and collarbones. It wasn’t in a sexual way, more in a caring one.

He finally decided to take off his suit as well, revealing his soft muscles but well built frame. You always found it funny how comic and cartoon artists portrayed real life heroes. They ignore your hip dips, made your waist the size of a pencil, and even overemphasized your boobs. And with Gerard, well, he was actually a lot like what artists portrayed him as, maybe just a little less triangle shaped.

“Next time,” You sighed as you look at him in the mirror that was now fogging with steam, his eyes on yours through the reflection, “You’re taking more hits.” He lightly laughed.

“Fine.” He agreed with a kind smile, “If you insist.”

“I’ve told you a million times, Gerard, I don’t know anything about those two!” You paced around his marble office trying to explain to him, “They are batshit crazy. They hold no patterns, no compunction, it’s part of their game and it makes it fun for them.” Your feet hastily moved back and forth on the gray tiled floor, the only light source was the sun creeping through the gray clouds outside and small desk-lamps around the large room.

“You’ve worked with her a few times,” He argued back from across his desk where he sat, “You have to know something.” “Those ‘two times’ happened probably five years ago, and it was exchanging files for some cash that’s it.” You sighed, “They don’t have a plan, ever, that’s what I’m telling you. Gerard, I know you’re incredibly smart and think with a plan. And the Joker’s really fucking smart too, but he’s also mentally insane and has no grip on himself other than to kill. He’s like a wild fucking animal.” Your boyfriend leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, his finger holding his temple together as he collected himself. “If I could help you on this, you know I would in a heartbeat.”

“Would you though?” His anger was growing, both he and you knew it. In fact, the entire room and all its objects were now drowning in the tension.

“What?” You asked barely above a whisper and through teeth clenched together, eyebrows furrowing as your vision grew red. There was no response. “If you’re questioning the integrity of my current work then fuck off. You’re too scared to kill the man, and now you’re gonna put some of this one me?” You snapped, he remained emotionless. Damn he was good at his job. “Go fuck yourself Gerard.” And with that, you stormed out of the room and up to your shared bedroom.

This stupid mansion he lived in was still a maze to you, and stomping through it in your utter fit of rage didn’t help, the sound of your feet bouncing off the large halls. It made your head want to explode.

You had never once blown up on him in your two years of dating and partnership. But never had he ever questioned your morals, or more importantly your loyalty. And you were expecting some form of an apology in the least.

Sure, you felt a little bad about bringing up his own methods of working. He had his extremely valid reasons, but it was a button to push in response to him pushing yours. You knew you would apologize eventually, but you needed him to come to you first.

After all, he was the one acting like a child. It was almost like an interrogation of you, despite the fact you had told him countless times that you knew nothing about the Joker or Harley. Other than the two deals you made with them in your early days for some extra money, those two were wild cards.

So you sat in the absurdly big California king with decorated in a gray and black and decided to do some breathing exercises so you didn’t use the wall as a knife throwing target.

It was hours, no, more than hours before you saw your lover again. And if it wasn’t for your stomach grumbling in hunger you would’ve stayed cooped up in the room. You wandered your way into the grand kitchen, beginning to look for whatever you could.

Grabbing a cookie from a batch you had baked just the day before, you began brewing some coffee for yourself. Of course you didn’t hear Gerard walk in, since you two had begun this whole partner/dating thing he had begun picking up on some of your specialties, such as being extremely quiet. On missions and such you were thankful for it, considering his armor was quite clunky, but now you regretted it.

The two of you didn’t even acknowledge each other’s presence, despite the fact that you were only a few feet a way. It was like a silent game, but just completely ignoring each other. It was like the other person didn’t even exist.

But the tension was a whole other level. You literally felt suffocated by how tense it was. And you knew your lover felt the same. With the extremely small glances you took you were able to piece together how he was definitely a form of uncomfortable, his emotions starting to break through, which you knew they would eventually.

You decided once your drink was done to leave the room, leaving Gerard and the extreme conflict behind. Well, some of it at least. And back in your room you grew bored, fast.

You didn’t want to show your weak side, determination to not be the first to apologize flowed through your veins. So, you decided to relieve your stress the way you always did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You heard Gerard’s voice echo through the hallway next to you. Your skintight suit hugged your body, kitten heels hitting the ground in rhythm.

“Going out.” You replied.

“In your suit?” He questioned, this time grabbing your arm tightly with his hand. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” You questioned, turning to him and eyeing him through your mask, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Don’t test me.” He warned, his voice growing deep. This time, you pulled your arm harshly from his grip, which he didn’t fight back.

“That’s what I thought.” You spat, walking off.

Patrols were not the most enjoyable thing, the only time they were was when you were stressed and needed something to take your mind off of all your problems. A relationship limiting argument between you and your boyfriend was a perfect example.

Very rarely, if ever, did big stuff happen in Gotham. Small crimes like robberies, domestic cases, so on and so forth could be dealt with by the excuse of a police department the city had to offer. You were wondering when the federal government would finally come and kick a shoe up their ass.

It was funny, Gerard with all his power, I mean being the Gerard Way (despite the fact absolutely no one knew he was Batman) still couldn’t convince major officials to bring in more backup despite his numerous requests hidden in comments within conversations. The excuse was always that Gotham didn’t need help: they had Batman.

And let’s not forget his stealthy partner who did a lot of the work as well, the wonderful Catwoman who always got overlooked by the patriarchal influences that still flushed their way into society today. You scoffed at it.

On your earpiece you heard an incoming for an “escalating situation” at one of the prisons, which was just icing on the already destroyed caked for “a bunch of dangerous prisoners just got out.” Great.

It took you less than five minutes to be at the scene, strutting in and flashing your badge. It wasn’t that you actually needed one, it was just for good measure.

You got led through the dozens of police cars lining the outside of the prison all with flashing lights and a few sirens still going, escorted by one of the main detective inside where you were met with another officer talking to the one and only man himself.

Those hazels eyes hidden well under the mask looked up and met yours, softening just a bit from the black optics of Batman’s as you approached him. “Catwoman.” He said in a stern tone.

“Batman.” You responded the same, arms crossed over your chest.

You were briefed on the situation: A bunch of highly dangerous criminals did escape and were on the loose. The police felt that they needed help because some may or may not have ties to the Joker, therefore it made it a case for you and Gerard to deal with.

“Be careful,” Gerard told you, the two of you walking side by side in the street on patrol and looking out, “I don’t want you getting hurt again.” “Please,” You scoffed, “These guys probably have guns and a destructed god complex. I don’t see a problem.” “Some of these are former Arkham patients.” He warned, “They could be dangerous. And crazy.” “Like we haven’t dealt with that before.” You reminded him, “Or more specifically me, because I could have connections, ya know?” A verbal stab for sure. He looked over and glared.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” “So when we get home are you finally going to grow up and have one after the entirety of today?”

“I told you-” Before he could even finish the two of you were surrounded by men with guns and various other forms of highly illegal weaponry. “Shit.” He muttered.

“Yeah shit.” You responded as bullets began shooting towards you. A few of them managed to ricochet off of nearby metal beams hitting your attackers, while other nearly missed you as you managed to jump behind them. With a few solid kicks and swings you were able to disarm and knock out four or five of them, Gerard getting the other 10 of them or so considering his suit and physical ability was greater than yours.

“How many were there again?” You asked him.

“15.” He responded. You looked around, mentally counting the bodies.

“Perfect, 15.” You responded with a sigh. “Do they not know how to scatter?” He shook his head.

A deafening silence filled the car on your way home, the only thing being heard was the soft engine rumbling of the mobile. You were still going to be strong about this whole thing, despite the fact that you wanted it to be over with.

You looked around out of boredom, and down at your suit to see if there was any damage. And, well, there was more than damage. “Well, would you look at that,” You lightly laughed, looking at the left side of your torso where a big slash and blood was seeping through. You hadn’t noticed any pain or anything until you looked down.

“What the fuck?” He asked, looking down to from the road.

“Gee, pay attention to the road.” He reluctantly huffed and put his gaze back there.

“You have a huge fucking slash on your side.” “I know,” You commented, “Oh well, we’ll fix it when we get home.”

You hadn’t noticed his increase in speed or the extra few minutes he cut off as you pulled into the large and modern mansion. Before you could even step out of the car in the garage Gerard had already opened your car door and picked you up, carrying you bridal style.

“You know I can walk.” You lightly laughed, holding on to his arms, “I think it was just a bullet graze.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He placed you down on the couch, “Let me grab the first aid kit.”

He was gone for only a few moments, coming back with the kit in handy, no mask and gloves this time, with no time to remove his armor. It wasn’t a life threatening wound, that’s for sure. “May I?” He asked, motioning to the zipper on the back of your suit. It was so cute to you how he always asked, despite your years of being together. You nodded, moving your hair out of the way.

He took your suit off with ease, helping you step out despite the harsh feeling you got from the slash. Carefully he sat you back down, dabbing your wound with a bit of alcohol and making sure not to directly touch the affected area. There was a certain spot where he had to touch the wound with the cottonball. You couldn’t help but cringe and gasp at the painful feeling, shutting your eyes as it felt like your flesh was burning. “I’m sorry baby.” He commented, squeezing your thigh for support. “You’re doing so great.”

It took him only a few more minutes, and the two of you deciding stitches may be stretching it too far, for you to finally be all bandaged up. You slowly got up, Gerard coming right to you and helping to hold your hips up. “I would suggest a bath but-” “Not a good idea.” You lightly laughed, placing your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” You mumbled.

“No problem.” He responded, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?” You nodded as he picked you up again, taking you to the bedroom to rest.

He placed you lightly on the bed while removing the covers on the side you always slept. You crawled into the open area he had created, placing your wounded body onto the sheets and covering it up. “Do you want some pajamas?” He asked, now removing some of his suit, his unbrushed and tangled black hair fell just below his eyes.

“Yeah, actually,” You lightly smiled, “If you wouldn’t mind. This sports bra is kinda tight.” He nodded, walking into your closet and grabbing some sweatpants, while walking into his own to grab an old t-shirt, knowing those were your favorite things to wear.

He gave them to you, and stood there watching to which you rolled your eyes, “C’mon now, turn around.” You instructed, his eyes went wide with a form of embarrassment, “You don’t get to see my tits, yet.” He sighed, complying with you as you slipped your bra off and shirt on in a few seconds.

You decided against pants, considering that would take a lot of extra effort. So you just pulled the covers over you, sinking back in. “You can turn around now.” And Gerard did, looking at you with the shirt on and residing to his own side of the bed next to you.

You chose a petty play next, completely ignoring him, waiting for an apology. “I’m sorry.” He said, leaning back on the frame of the bed and looking at you. You looked back at him signaling him to do more explaining, “I’m sorry for questioning your loyalty and moral of your work. I know those two things matter to you very much, and I had no right to question either of those.” You took a moment to let the words settle in.

“Thank you,” You responded, “I’m sorry for bringing up the way you work. I know why you do it and I, too, didn’t have the right to do that either.” “Thank you.” He responded, both of you taking sighs of relief as most of the tension alleviated. “I love you.” He told you next. It had taken him a full year to speak those wonderful three words to you, and whenever he said them you always cherished the way they sounded.

“I love you too.” You responded with a small smile, placing your head on his shoulder which he happily complied with.

#gerard way #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #gerard way fanfiction #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader) [Ch.11] The Final Chapter.

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, bad words, sexual situations (some non-con), the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: Some big bad interrogation Spencer vibes. Thanks for reading. This chapter was short, so I just decided 2 chapter posts in one day. Let me know what you thought of the story~Pleeeeease no one repost on other sites without my permission.

Word Count: 2,015

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7.  Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.  

************************************************************************After Spencer had disappeared, JJ was surprised, to say the least.

She held the unsub by the cuffs as he angrily spoke about Spencer's big genius brain solving an equation in 2 minutes which had taken himself a lifetime of work to figure out. She asked him where the machine had taken Spencer and he replied with all of this talk about quantum mechanics, particle waves, split dimensions, and voids. Stuff that Spencer had been info-dumping about for months, regarding the case.

All JJ cared to know about was if Spencer was safe, and to that the unsub just shrugged.

The first thing the team did when you all returned to the BAU was throw the unsub into an interrogation room.

Spencer was quick to volunteer as the only interrogator in the room, he argued this unsub would react the strongest to him.

The rest of the team were still flustered from all of this inter-dimensional information that Spencer had gone on about on the ride back. You had backed him up wholeheartedly and you were seemingly in great health after being gone for 5 months.

"Alright Reid, you seem to be the only one of us that has a good idea of what's going on. We'll watch from here, and if he gets too aggressive, we'll send someone else in," Hotch agreed.

You watched from the double sided mirror, the unsub was looking at it as if he could see you. You clenched your fists. He was the reason you'd nearly lost Spencer. He was the reason that Spencer looked sick from overworking and you had nightmares for 5 months straight.

"Hey, will you be okay in here?" Spencer lowered his voice to ask you. You had refused to stop holding his hand since you got here. He noticed your fist clenching tighter.

"I don't want him to take you away from me again," you replied.

"He's in handcuffs, and his machine is being collected for evidence. He isn't a wizard, he needs that machine like Nikola Tesla needs an inductor. He can't hurt us anymore," Spencer tried to comfort you, using the soft tone he knew you loved.

"Just don't take too long in there, and give him hell for me, alright?" You stood on your toes and kissed him.

He gave you a small smile and nodded.

You slowly slid your hand from his as he turned to walk out.

When he entered the interrogation room, he was no longer soft-Spencer.

The unsub didn't even turn to look at him, he was fixated on the double mirror. His eyes unnerved you.

You crossed your hands over your chest and leaned against the wall, deciding to keep your eyes steadily on Spencer.

"We know who you are." Spencer spoke. You smiled, recognizing that Spencer was turning the unsub's words to you against him.

Was Spencer purposefully trying to make you happy while he was in the middle of an interrogation?

"I know who you are as well, Dr. Reid," his gritty voice made your skin crawl.

"Good, then you should know that I understand the significance of the science experiments you've been conducting, Dr. Arnold Lynch. You've been labeled as a dangerous person to the entire world; a mad scientist." Spencer sat in a chair, his arms crossed.

"Now they listen." Lynch, rolled his eyes, finally looking at Spencer. His unimpressed gaze trailed up and down, sizing him up.

"I was like you once. Young, an impressive mind; maybe if I had found her sooner she would have loved me." Lynch added. He looked back to the mirror, you tasted bile at the back of your throat.

Spencer leaned forward in his chair, putting his elbows on the table.

"You're trying to change the subject." Spencer pointed out. "Tell me how all of this started. Tell me where your partner, Dr. Deborah Tryst, is hiding and how she helped you."

Lynch's eyes widened. "We were colleagues. She helped me build the machine, and I wrote the equations that made it work. We went in together, the first time."

"She tested the machine with you?" Spencer asked.

"Yes, we experimented. We tried to study the void space for years. Then, one day, a crack formed. Through that crack I saw her." The unsub looked towards you, seemingly locking eyes with you through the one-way glass.

"Y/N?" Spencer clarified.

"Correct. She was spectacular, the girl from a parallel dimension. We didn't know why the crack revealed her at first, but then we saw the string. It was barely noticeable, like a fishing line. It led from her dimensional crack to ours. All it took was a tug on that wire to know who the other end of that line connected to."

He was watching me? What a sick creep!

"Who?"

"Don't play stupid with me Doctor, I know you feel it."

Spencer swallowed, his eyes flicking to you for a moment.

"I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance. My colleague thought differently. Now that the cracks were open, she observed you both, she knew you both would feel-" he sighed, "-incomplete until you were in the same space. She decided to play matchmaker and ruin everything. I loved Y/N first. Y/N was mine and she was a beacon, a magnificent anomaly! I took her back so she could be my pet; so she would never be yours!" He angrily spat, slamming his fists onto the table. Spencer stood, seething. You felt similarly.

"You had no right!" Spencer's voice was deep and angry. You'd never heard him so angry, other than in the show.

"No, Tryst had no right bringing her to you in the first place!"

"Y/N wants to be here. This is her decision. If you're so convinced you love her, you would want what is best for her."

"What's best for her Dr. Reid, or what's best for you? Is she any better off fighting criminals for the BAU? A job she isn't trained for." He cruelly laughed. "Is putting her in danger just so you can fuck her every once in a while off-duty not selfish? You think I'm the selfish one, look at yourself. You're just expecting her to be the lawful Bonnie to your Clyde, how long until you drive her into a hail of bullets?" Lynch smirked.

Spencer's eyes widened and he gripped the table.

No Spence, don't let him get to you.

"That's it, I'm going in there." Morgan spoke up next to you.

Hotch held his hand up to block him; his eyes on Spencer. "Wait, let Spencer speak. He's getting the unsub to talk, and that's good."

Spencer quickly collected himself, his expression going blank.

"Where is Dr. Deborah Tryst?" Spencer asked.

"Ooh, did I strike a chord, Doctor?" Lynch chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

"Where is Dr. Deborah Tryst?" Spencer repeated, angrier.

"Probably playing matchmaker. There are an infinite amount of dimensions for her to play with." Lynch shrugged.

"She's still in the void?"

"Yup, she's the reason the crack sealed when you two went through. She trapped herself in there and made sure I could never go back. Whatever she's doing, we'll never know for sure because it is impossible to recreate the initial crack. You should know just how improbable it was to create one in the first place, Dr. Reid."

"So there is no further possibility of danger?"

"Not cosmically, but, for our impossible girl over there, who knows what kind of dangerous situations you will put her in." Lynch nodded to the double mirror.

"She is not yours and she will never be yours. We're putting you in a maximum security prison where you will never see her again. So you can sit in your cell for the rest of your life and remember that she's with me, not you." Spencer's eyes darkened. You wanted to end this fight and get him out of there. He was only getting angrier.

Hotch walked through the interrogation room door, holding it open. "Reid," was all he said.

That was it, Spencer had gotten a lengthy confession from the unsub. The details would come up during his trial.

Spencer stood up, not caring about the wobbling chair as he did so. He walked out of the room and you went to the hallway to meet him. You met him as he was stomping down the hall away from you. "Spencer!" You called, hurrying to follow him.

He made his way inside an empty meeting space and you quickly slipped in behind him; closing the door.

He loosened his tie and ran his hands through his hair. You let him cool off for a few moments.

"He's right. I am selfish." He sounded beyond angry, even guilty.

He leaned forward on the meeting table, clenching his fists against the wood.

"He was just trying to get the last word in. Don't pay his words any more attention." You spoke, softly; placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't work here. You're not properly trained for the high-intensity, high-risk situations."

"Then I can train. Anyways, I doubt Hotch is going to let me work here now that he knows," you said, sadly. You loved working here. You loved helping people and being with your BAU family. You loved Spencer's daily teasing.

"Being with me puts you in enough danger. I couldn't protect you. What's stopping something from happening to you again?" He looked up at you, though he was still hunched over the table.

"All the other times you protected me." You gave him a small smile. "When Chris threatened me, you confronted him. When I jumped into the lake, you stopped me from drowning. When I was stuck in my dimension, you rescued me from a life of being absolutely miserable without you. When the unsub first encountered us, you stood in front of me even though you couldn't see him. You've protected me far more times than you are choosing to acknowledge. I trust you with my life, Spence."

Spencer's shoulders fell as his breath evened out.

"I love you Y/N, I just don't want you to get hurt." Spencer whispered, his grip on the table loosening. He slowly stood up straight to look at you.

"We aren't some alternate justice-duo, Bonnie and Clyde. We're perfectly capable of protecting each other, and we aren't some crazy serial-killing, bank-robbing couple. We're Spencer and Y/N, the BAU's hottest couple." You spoke with exaggeration and winked.

Spencer gave you a small smile. His hair was a mess, his clothing was wrinkled, and his tie was undone.

"It's been a long day. Take me home?" You asked, giving him your best doe-eyes as you reached up to fix his tie.

"Oh. About that- you're apartment and all your money and assets are sorta gone now. You were presumed dead."

"I'm not talking about that place." You rolled your eyes; unaffected by the news.

You were used to being dirt poor anyways and that house was nothing but an empty shell.

"Home, with you," you explained.

"Oh."

Spencer broke out into a large grin. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. His coffee and woodsy-vanilla scent enveloped you like a warm hug. When he pulled away, he held his hand out to you.

"Come on then, I'll take you home."

Home, it was a strange concept. Your now-empty apartment in your dimension was once your home. You'd once almost drowned yourself to try to get back to that place.

Then you fell in love with Spencer, and living with him made you discover what a home truly was. It wasn't where you were from, it was the place you loved to be; the place you felt most comfortable, the most yourself.

Your home was in Spencer's dimension, Spencer's apartment, Spencer's arms, Spencer's everyday gestures, Spencer's smile, Spencer's late night chess games, Spencer's "I love you's," Spencer's raspy morning voice, Spencer's unruly hair, Spencer's hand kisses, Spencer's scrunched nose ticks, Spencer's info-dumps, Spencer's everything.

It was the most improbable circumstance and the one thing you were most thankful for. You got to spend your new life with Spencer.

In the end, Spencer Reid kept his promise; he did help you find your way home. Your way home to him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #cm #drama #fanfiction #romance

[wolfinshipclothing]

Summary: I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Excerpt:

But what about you? You never tell me what's up," said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. "How's cram school going?"

"It's going," she said flatly.

"That's good. How about Lion? I haven't seen the little rascal since forever."

"You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases."

"Right, right." Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. "Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked."

Steven's attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie's arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

"I don't know," she said, choosing simple words.

"What do you mean? Did something happen or…?"

"It's just one of these days, you know?"

Steven's silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

Welp, i came crawling back from my hole with this fic. Mind you its a very angsty, sensible fic bout self-harming and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I wrote this because 1) its always Steven the one that is hurting and needs helps, and Connie the one who is there to put him back on his fic. Few times i have seen the opposite.

And 2) this has been a shitty year. To everyone in the world, obviously. Just have been very garbage to me. Or maybe I AM the one who was being garbage to myself. In any case, i haven’t been feeling well, and decided to write up my feelings into the characters i am currently hyper-fixating on.

Is it healthy? Who knows! But it DID made me feel better. I hope this fic, if it doesn’t trigger some catharsis in you guys, at least entertain you all for a while.

Anyway, that’s all. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year folks.

(You can also read it in Fanfiction, btw)

"You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation was provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution." —Caroline Kettlewell, "Skin Game".

Connie’s mind was beyond herself; far, far away, where she couldn’t reach it. Her body was heavy; lead weight held together by rusted tin bolts. And Connie was trapped inside it, with no company but the stinging pain on her arm and the weight of the shirt she kept against it.

How long have I been like this? She wondered. It felt like hours. Her legs were like paper; where she not sitting on her bed, she would have already plummeted to the floor.

I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Connie lifted the shirt. The bleeding had stopped. The cuts were all dry out now —probably had been for a few minutes— but they still shined with a disgusting color. The marks from last time were underneath; red rivers over dried out canals. Feral slashes over healed scars.

Connie dropped her head onto her hands, elbows on her knees, and applied pressure over her temples. That usually helped her think.

“Stupid,” she said with a sore voice. “Stupid, stupid. You always do the same.”

Connie’s harming habit have come, less like a metaphorical descent into madness and more like a —also metaphorical— walk down a descending staircase, where each step would disappear behind you, leaving you no choice but to go further down, into the dark.

It gradually became a routine. If she’d messed up a test, she would spend all night studying the subject. If she’d snapped at her mom in a moment of hormonal-fueled rage, she would skip dinner —breakfast too, if possible. If she’d been so absorbed in her own world she’d ghosted her friends, she would train with her sword until her palms were all blistered. Small pinches of pain she could administer, in measurable doses and only when it was justified.

It was astounding how quickly she lost sight of what was measurable and justified.

But the real aggravating part of it, in Connie’s opinion, was how much of her time it takes. It’d taken her a whole morning of self-loathing for the static to take over her body. Once it did, she lost control and started attacking her outer forearm with swift, brutal slashes, instead of the controlled cuts she usually administered. When she saw what she’d done, she panicked and reached for her neatly folded white shirt. What a waste. She had barely bled a few fat drops, yet it was more than enough to ruin her favorite shirt.

She’d been quiet since then, holding the soon-to-be-rag over her arm and trying to grasp her slippery psyche at the same time. She could feel her body, but she wasn’t in it. Her brain was working itself to death, but she’d no control over its thoughts. Like Schrodinger’s cat, it was like she was there and not there at the same time. Alive and Dead. Connie has come to call this dissociative state ‘the limbo’. And she was knees deep in it now. And it must be past noon already!

If I could make my butt to get up and clean up this mess, maybe I could sit down and have some work done. Otherwise, this would be a lost day.

The thought loomed over her. A lost day. She couldn’t let that happen. Now she just had to find a way to get out of the fog of her mind…

The phone ringed. Connie as much as jumped from the bed, dropping the shirt and scissors on the floor. She reached for her phone on the table.

BISCUIT

Just left the hotel and hit the road. The engine sounds like it’s about to choke to death, tho. I hope it doesn’t break before reaching New Orleans. Call me when you have a break! Love you!

Connie sighed; her heart’s palpitations echoing in her ears. How ridiculous! Jumping to grab her phone as if she’d been caught. Like some bad horror movie; someone on the other side would said ‘you have been seen’ and then hang up, leaving Connie panicking like a fool. Ridiculous!

She grabbed the scissors and the shirt with one hand, the phone with the message she ought to respond in the other. She glanced at the bed; the sheets were wet, she ought to change those. Her arm was still stinging; she ought to treat the wounds. Also, she ought to get properly dressed. And her test was still on the desk, waiting for her…

Connie groaned and gravitated naturally towards the bed and felt into it. She’d never had trouble compartmentalizing before. She also had never been in the limbo this long before, however.

She found herself thinking of Steven; living on the open road, driving that tank with radio he calls ‘car’, doing whatever he wants, going whenever he wants to go —previously checking his rigorous list of places to go. Being whoever he wants to be.

This made Connie mad. She didn’t want to be mad. She rotated her phone in her hand several times, thinking.

I could call him, she thought. You are supposed to reach out when… in situations like this, right?

Her stomach grumbled with acid reflux. She definitely didn’t want to talk to Steven —nor anyone else, really. But hearing a friendly voice could be what she needs to get back on her feet.

She pressed the name on the screen and put the phone on speaker. It rang. Please don’t pick up, please don’t…

Schick.

“Hey Connie! What’s up?”

“Hey Steven. Are you busy?” she asked.

“Not at all. The road’s pretty calm. I think there is a storm coming though; there are some mean-looking clouds above me,” said Steven, a bit uncertain. “Are you on your break?”

In a manner of speaking. “Yeah. I just thought… you know, checking out on you.”

“Making sure I didn’t pick any new hitchhiker? I’ll let you know I haven’t done that since Miami Beach,” he laughed. “Seriously though, you should have seen the motel I crashed last night. ‘Sir-sleep-a-lot’ was the name, and it was great. There’d a real-looking imitation sword and shield above the bed! That’s the stuff you won’t see in any fancy-brand hotel.”

Connie smiled briefly. Despite everything that’d happened to Steven —and he really broke the limit of shit that could happen to a person—, he was still the same kind-hearted boy that got emotional over the simpler stuff.

“But what about you? You never tell me what’s up,” said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. “How’s cram school going?”

“It’s going,” she said flatly.

“That’s good. How about Lion? I haven’t seen the little rascal since forever.”

“You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Right, right.” Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. “Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked.”

Steven’s attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie’s arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

“I don’t know,” she said, choosing simple words.

“What do you mean? Did something happen or…?”

“It’s just one of these days, you know?”

Steven’s silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

“I’m doing badly,” Connie said quickly. “I’m feeling real bad right now and I don’t even know why,” she added, only half-lying.

There was a long mmm on the other side of the line.

“Alright. I’m going home,” said Steven.

Connie’s heart started to race. “You can’t do that. You are driving... a-and your schedule-”

“I’ll just park on a side of the road. There are some nice trees I can park under. Then I’ll call Lion and be there in a flash.”

No, no, NO. “Steven, you really don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem at all! I want to be with you-“

“Steven, I don’t want to see you, OK!” Connie bolted upright, sitting on the bed. “Nobody asked you to do anything! Why do you always have to make things about yourself?”

Silence. A gust of wind came from the window, chilling Connie to the bones. She squeezed her left hand until it hurt. The scissors were still there. She glanced at her right arm; smooth and clean of any mark. Connie was right handed, but she could make an exception.

The thought alone shook her to her core, making her open her palm. The scissors felt with a clink-clank. She brought the phone closer to her face.  

“Please,” Connie muffled a choke with her free hand, “please don’t go. Can you just talk to me?”

More silence, and there was a moment in which Connie knew ‘this is it, my best friend hates me forever’. But then there was a sliding noise, and the rumble of dirt being removed. There was also a distant boom; a storm was about to drop.

“I stopped the car,” said Steven. “I’m here for you, if you want.”

Great. It’s not like that’ll deepen Connie’s guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. Dark walls were closing around her, and the only source of light was her phone and the person on the other side. Obstinate tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Please don’t say that. I know… you know that’s not true,” Steven measured each word as he spoke. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, “I’m just being a big baby, that’s all.” No answer. He’s not gonna make it easy for her, is he? “I’m mad. Really mad.”

“Mad at me?”

Connie grumbled as an answer. She heard Steven’s struggle to swallow.

“Right. Not about me.”

“Exactly,” she said, although it was a half truth.

“I’m mad at myself,” she proceeded. “I’m mad because I fail at everything I do.” Connie took several breaths. Here comes the bomb: “I flunked at my practice college entrance test.”

More silence.

“Go on,”

“Aren’t you gonna say its stupid?” she asked cautiously. She’d expected a scoff, a snicker. Maybe even some laughter.

“I’m listening,” Steven insisted.

Connie tried to put some verbal sense in the ball yarn that was her mind.

“I really flunked it, you know,” she said, waiting —hoping— for a reprimand. “Even the stuff that I’ve studied and re-studied.”

“But it was just a practice test. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything, Steven,” she cried. “If I’d taken it today, I would have gotten a garbage grade.”

Connie cleaned the tears away with the back of her hand. The gust coming from the window was making her shiver. Her wet hair and the soaked sheets were not helping either.

“It like everything I had done, all the hard work I put into it was for nothing,” she said. “Everything feels so pointless.”

“I don’t think it was,” said Steven, carefully. “Even if you failed, you still practiced for the real one. Don’t give up. Going to college was your dream.”

“Was it? I don’t really know.” Connie bit her lip. “No, that’s a lie. I do want to go to college. I just wonder if it’s worth it. I mean, what’s the point of trying so hard if I fail anyway? Do you have any idea how many nights I lost for this? O-or how many times I had to put my friends on hold because I was busy studying?”

She stopped. She felt as if her breath was stolen from her.

“Of course you do,” she sighed. “And it was all for nothing. I failed at this as I fail at everything else.”

“What is ‘everything else’?”

Her blood was freezing cold, as was her answer. “You know.”

There it was again; the roar of thunder, followed by the sound of a million drops falling down. It was starting to rain somewhere.

“Connie,” said Steven, on the verge of shattering. “Have you been thinking about Homeworld?”

Connie clenched her free hand, her teeth, and everything else that required physical exertion.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.”

“I know I have no right to feel bad about it. You are the one who suffered the most from it-”

She was cut by her own throat shutting down, and for a moment only tiny hiccups came out. There was a blinding, white rage inside her. It commanded her to grab her sword and slash, lunge and cut all her problems away. But she didn’t. She stood still and cried.

“But I was there too. I saw what White did to you and I couldn’t do anything.” Connie gasped for air. “I trained so hard for nothing. When you needed me I… I failed you.” She stopped to gasp and clean her tears. “H-how can I know I won’t be a mess in everything else I do, that I won’t flunk on my first year of college? Studying was the only thing I was good at and… and I’m not even good at it anymore and just…”

She stopped to let the tears roll freely. It was too much; too much weight, too many tears. Everything was in the air now. All her failures, all her fears, like an enveloping toxic cloud around her; it’d always been there, but now someone else could see it. In the middle of her wailing, she caught Steven’s concerned voice.

“Connie, can you hear me?”

It could be easy to hang up now, forget this ever happened, and call back when she was strong and put together. ‘Hey Steven, sorry about that, everything is better now’. But Connie couldn’t do that —not to him. She mumbled a reply.

“Alright. I want you to breathe with me, OK? Can you do that?”

Well, that’s easy for him to ask. He’s not the one hyperventilating. And to think many times she’d said the same, when Steven was going through a panic attack. How the turntables indeed.

She knew the instructions to the letter, but she coordinated them to Steven’s voice. Four seconds inspiration. Hold it for seven seconds. Eight seconds exhalation. They repeated it until every corner of Connie’s mind was occupied with this routine.

“Feeling better?” Steven asked.

Connie noticed she wasn’t crying anymore and with one last sniff she said: “A bit.”

“Good. Now I want you to listen,” said Steven. “First, just because I was the one who was attacked doesn’t mean I got the monopoly on trauma.” He stopped to see if his joke caused any effect. ”What I mean to say is, that day was… it was a literal hell for all of us. Maybe more to me than to the gems, but it was so for you too because, like you said, you were there with me.”

“Which brings me to the second point: nothing of what happened in Homeworld, or that happened to me, to us, was your fault,” Steven said, firmly and fluently, like a practiced speech. “And there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I know you are mad because you couldn’t take a swing at White’s giant nose…”

Connie laughed. She imagined Steven raising a triumphant fist into the air.

“But you did help me. You carried me to… to me! If I’m alive now, it’s because of you. And I should…” Steven stopped. Connie could see him, hand on his mouth, trying to hold the tears back and be the rock she needed. She knew that feeling too well. “I should’ve told before how much you did to me. You saved my life back then, a-and then you saved me again, months ago, when I got corrupted.”

Connie gasped. Steven never brought that topic unprompted, and he never called it for what it was. It was always ‘the incident’.

“You were there for me since day one,” Steven laughed dryly. “Actually, I should be the one apologizing. You had to go through all of that because of me.”

“I wanted to do it,” Connie retorted. “I wanted to go through all of that with you.”

“That doesn’t make it right. It wasn’t fair.”

Connie huffed. They were scratching the surface of a deeper conversation. Because Connie was mad for wanting to go to Homeworld so bad, and for all the times her life was in danger before that. And she was mad at her parents —what were they thinking? They shouldn’t have let Connie run around with a sword, fighting a war that wasn’t her own; they should have locked her up until she was eighteen. Damn, she was mad at the whole Universe for needing to be saved. They were kids! Stupid kids who didn’t knew better than to take such a task over their shoulders.

And deep down, in a corner she dared not to look, she was mad at Steven. Because from the first day they meet, he chose her. To be his friend, his partner-in-crime, his… And in an even deeper place, Connie was mad at herself. Because she had chosen Steven too, and if it came to it, she would do it all again. Back then, in the middle of the chaos, with the fear of death and the threat of the destruction of the Earth as her everyday bread and butter, life made sense.

But now the war was over, and the books Connie studied so much felt as unreal as any fantasy novel. How do you go back to being normal after having a destiny?

Connie let her head fall back and softly touch the wall. She was far too tired to shine light on those darks corners. She just wanted to rest. She was half-way napping when Steven’s voice brought her back.

“Connie? Connie, are you there? Please talk to me.”

Connie slapped herself awake. “I’m here Steven. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, as convinced as anything. “How about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do.”

“Well I… I worry about you!” Steven protested. “So I guess we are in a loop here.”

That comment wasn’t particularly funny, but Connie started to laugh; a short, weak laugh that grew up to be a roar. On the other side, Steven laughed too.

“Oh man. This sure feels familiar doesn’t it?” said Steven, and eased a bit on the laughter. “I guess you are better at making me feel better than I am doing it for you.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short. I do feel better. A little,” she confessed. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me being dumb. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steven was quiet for a while. When he spoke again, it was with the clearness of a professor giving class.

“Connie, do you remember one of the first things Dr. A. told me when I started therapy?

“Life sucks?” She heard Steven breathing raggedly, trying not to laugh.

“That is the first thing,” he said in a short breath, “but I mean the second first thing.”

Connie scratched her head. “The thing about the pond?”

“The frozen lake,” he corrected. “She said that, for people with depression —not saying you have it— or have gone through some trauma —again, not pointing fingers—, anxiety is like a frozen lake. Every day you bring new problems to the lake; little, everyday stuff that’s not too heavy. Then some days you bring heavier stuff, and the ice starts to crack, but you don’t notice because you hide the heavy stuff under the lighter stuff. Finally one day, you bring a new little problem and you put it on top of the pile. You know what happens next?”

“The ice breaks?”

“It breaks,” said Steven, like a satisfied lecturer. “It breaks and you fall in the frozen water, with all of that heavy shit you have been hiding.”

Connie’s hand grabbed the front of her bathrobe. She was still not used to hearing Steven Cutie Pie DeMayo Universe curse —even if she was the one who taught him the coolest words (besides Amethyst, of course).

“I remember the story now,” Connie scratched her head, feeling the hard knots of her hair. “I always thought it was a bit complex as a metaphor.”

“My point is-“

“Why not use a house of cards? Every anxious thought is a new card, and as you pile them up, the house loses stability. Finally, one day, it just falls under its own weight,” Connie explained with renewed vigor. “See? It paints a much clearer picture.”

“The point, Miss Wiseguy,” grunted Steven, and Connie could see him folding his arms. “Is that if you don’t want the ice to break-“

“Or the house of cards to fall.”

“Or the house of cards to fall,” he conceded, “you have to deal with that heavy stuff before you are overwhelmed. You don’t need to do that now,” he added, predicting her complain. “But at some point, you will need to talk to someone. Your parents or your friends… Or I can give you Dr. A.’s number. She knows everything we went through.”

“That ought to save me some time,” she said. “Maybe she’ll give me a discount card of ‘Friends of Steven Universe’.”

“See? Now you are being positive,” Steven laughed.

Connie smiled sadly. “What about you?”

“I’ll always be here for you. By phone, video chat, or to visit you… If you want me to,” he whispered that last part.

“Only if you promise to not turn into a Kaiju when we start exposing my inner demons.”

“Ha ha,” he said robotically. “I’ll assume by your sarcasm that you are the same old Berry now.”

Connie mulled about it for a few seconds. The cloud of anxiety was slowly banishing, and she no longer felt the claustrophobic walls closing around her.

“Yes, I’m good now. Thanks to yo-aaah” a loud, long yawn took over her. “Sorry. Guess I’m more worn out than I thought.”

“Yeah, I can tell… Have you really not been sleeping at all?”

“Unless you count passing out of tiredness as sleeping,” she joked.

“Ah,” said Steven. “Have you been, well… you know?”

Connie didn’t answer. She knew what he meant, but she’d no voice to say it.

“Connie, have you been hurting yourself?”

“This conversation is hurting me.”

“Connie.”

The phone vibrated and got hot to the touch, before cooling down real fast. Connie’s head vibrated too, like a snow globe being shaken. Steven’s control over electric devices had been growing.

She lifted her arm to look at the cuts; they still stung, although she hasn’t been paying attention to it. All the slashes were dry and had a dull color.

Fuck it, why not?

“Just a few cuts,” she said flatly, “with my mom’s scissors.”

There was silence for a while, but Steven’s was still there; his breath was ragged and odd. Has he turned pink? Did Connie throw him into a panic attack?

Finally, he spoke: “Connie, I need you to do me a favor.”

Oh boy, that doesn’t sound good at all. “What is it?”

“Throw those scissors away.”

Connie pursed her lips. “Steven, I can’t do that. My mom would be mad,” she said, although it was a poor excuse. If Connie cared about her mother’s feelings, she wouldn’t have stolen the scissors in the first place.

  “I know. I don’t pretend to tell you what to do,” he said, measuring his words like a baker measures flour, “but it’s something that helped me a lot. I mean, when I was in a bad place, I would go into these blank moments when I wasn’t thinking at all.” Connie nodded. He was talking about the limbo. “When I started therapy, I was told to try to be more conscious of myself. More present. So when I felt I was, you know, getting in the mood,” Steven groaned at his own choice of words, “I would take a step back and do something different. We can’t always control our situation or our mood or even our actions, but we can make small changes to have some power over ourselves.”

The way Steven spoke in plural said that he wasn’t doing vain motivational talk; he was talking from a place he’d been in… and maybe still was. Connie remembered sitting on Steven’s bed, trying to cheer him up to eat or step outside and get some fresh air. She also remembered coming home, locking herself in the bathroom and taking a long shower while she cried.

Connie held onto that thought and sat on the bed. She picked the scissors with her free hand and put that memory in them. She also put the memories of White Diamond, the monsters’ attack on Beach City, the arguments with her mother. All her anger, her insecurities, her fear of not knowing who she was— she grabbed all of it and put it into a ball, one she was carrying in her throwing hand. She extended her arm all the way behind her back. And when the wind blew the curtains opens, she propelled her arm forward like a whip.

The scissors —and metaphorical ball— broke free of her hand, made a straight line and finally flew out of the window; out of sight.

Connie stood still, catching her breath. The first thing she noticed was that her chest, while still swelling with anger, felt notably lighter. The second thing was Steven’s voice calling her from the phone. The final thing she noticed made her scream:

“Holy shit!”

“What? What happened?” she heard Steven calling to her.

“I threw the scissors out of the window!”

“…WHAT?”

Connie dashed towards the window, holding her bathtub with her free hand, and stuck her head outside.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah… yeah I think so,” said Connie with a relieved breath. “The street is desert at this time. Anyway, I think I can see the scissors. They felt right by the trash can, so maybe I accidentally stabbed a rat?”

Steven was hyperventilating, but he took a break from it to scoff at her. “Now is no time for jokes, missy! Oh man… you could have killed someone! Why did you do that?”

“Because you told me to, you dumb-dumb!”

“I didn’t tell you to throw a sharp object out of the window, you dumb-dumb!”

Connie shook her head. “Forget it, I don’t want to fight.” She leaned against the wall and let gravity slid her to the floor.

“Me neither,” said Steven. The sound of rain was quieter now. “At least did that helped?”

“Yes. Almost killing innocent bystanders always cheers me up.”

“That’s my girl,” Steven laughed and so did Connie, albeit weaker.

Still, she felt better. Her body was recharging energy quickly and her mind was emerging from whatever black hole it had been hiding in.

“I think I can go on with my day now,” she said and she meant it.

“Are you sure?” Steven asked. Connie reaffirmed her decision. “Well, that’s awesome. So… would it be cool if I drop by and check on you?”

Connie’s heart started to race up again as the anxiety came back. Check on you. Like she was sick and she needed to be taken care of.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she said, firmly. “But later. Definitely later. I’ll call you.”

“But I… OK. Alright, w-we’ll talk later then.”

Steven sounded really bummed out, but Connie could pay it no mind now, lest she wanted to feel down the whole again. “Thanks for everything. And I’m sorry I made you stop in the middle of a storm,” she said.

“Oh it’s not so bad. Kinda weird though,” said Steven. “You know, usually you hide from the rain, lock yourself inside and look at it from the window of your house. But I’m under it right now. The sky is falling around me but I’m as dry as clean clothes. And, I don’t know, it’s beautiful. It makes you appreciate everything there is, even stuff that’s supposed to be ugly. Does it make sense?”

The words struck something deep inside Connie, but whatever meaning Steven was trying to transmit was ignored. She was not in the mood for lessons right now.

“I know what you mean,” she swiftly said. “So I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright then. Please be safe. And call me.”

“I will.”

“Ok… I love you.”

Connie blushed. “Goodbye.” She cut the call. She should have said something else, something more. She didn’t know why she had been in such a rush to hang up.

She just knew saying ‘I love you’ was easier when they weren’t dating.

  With one long, invigorating breath, Connie stood up. She stretched her arms over her head until her bones cracked, then she bended and touched her finger toes until her legs were burning.

With the sudden rush of adrenaline, thinking became easier. The rage was gone and her chest didn’t feel as heavy. Connie has left the limbo, at least for now.

She looked for her phone. Her last study break was one hour ago. Most of that time had been spent talking to Steven. So much time —hers and his— wasted in vain…

Alright Connie, compartmentalize. There’s a lot to do. What comes first? She asked herself. Well, her red, stinging arm would be a good starting point. She headed for her bedroom’s bathroom and closed the door shut.

The bathroom was still mildly warm from the shower she took. The first aid kit was where she left it; resting over the sink, opened. It’s where Connie usually hid the scissors. She hung the bathrobe on a perch and checked the cuts on the mirror. They ran deeper than Connie’s usual handiwork, so she applied the process she used for her training injuries. Soap and water to wash the wounds. Dry well, apply antiseptic to prevent infection and then bandage the whole thing, from the elbow to the wrist. She’ll have to change the bandages after tomorrow at least.

Some petroleum jelly could help the wound heal faster and prevent scarring, and Connie’s mom had some in her first aid kit but she discarded that thought. Explaining to her mom how she got these wounds was out of question.

Connie was about to put the kit away when an idea hit her. She brought the bandages out and applied them over her right arm —her clean, unharmed right arm. There; now if anyone, be it her mom or her friends asked, she could appeal to a training accident. And if her mom wants to check the wound herself, Connie will show her the right arm. Her mom will comment on how well the injury had healed, or she’ll simply believe Connie was overreacting to a minor rash. In any case, she’ll be none of the wiser.

Connie looked at herself in the mirror —naked, except for the bandaged arms. Her reflection smiled sadly. You think you are so cunning, don’t you?

With that done, she left the kit over the sink and tiptoed into her cold room. She went to the wardrobe and chose a long sleeved shirt, some jogging pants, and a sweater.

Next thing were the sheets. They were soaked; perfect to catch pneumonia. Connie started to take them off. She stopped and instead she left her room —with the same feeling as Robinson Crusoe leaving his island—, and headed for the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of juice and drank it like an old man in the desert. She poured another glass and headed back upstairs.

Once in her bedroom, she took off the sheets, rolled them all into a ball and poured the orange juice over the sheets, with extra care as to not wet the mattress. The textile absorbed the juice like a sponge. Finally, she went back downstairs, threw the sheets into the dishwasher and set it on. In the unlikely event her mom questioned Connie about her dropping a glass of juice on the bed; Connie only had to point at the orange colored stains.

They’ll disappear after a few washes, anyway. Ironically, the marks on Connie’s arm might last longer. She entertained the idea of putting her shirt to wash, but she scratched it off. Being a doctor’s daughter, she knew blood stains were a pain to get rid of.

Satisfied with what she had accomplished, Connie’s heart gave a little thud as she approached the door. She didn’t feel like going for a walk, but she’d to recover the, sort of speak, crime’s weapon. She stepped outside and walked aimlessly around the sidewalk for a minute, looking for the scissors. She found them on the floor right next to the trash can. Five inches left and they would have landed on top of the trash. It really makes your mind think.

Or someone else’s mind. Not Connie’s. She didn’t have time to metaphors.

She knelt to pick the scissors. And then she saw them; or rather, they saw her. On the other side of the street, a young couple crossed sights with her. They keep their glance on her for less than five seconds before walking away, laughing. It was enough to throw Connie down a hole. Eyes seemed to materialize out of thin air, staring faces, judgmental glances; all of them pointing at Connie. All of them knew what she’d done. She’d been seen.

Connie dashed inside the house and slammed the door behind her. She felt to the ground, short of breath. That couple must be on their way now, totally oblivious of the effect they caused on Connie, and she can’t blame them; she couldn’t predicted that either. Her social anxiety had been tame for so long, Connie thought it was a thing of the past. That’s another thing to scratch out of her accomplishments list.

Nevertheless Connie had the scissors in her shaking hands, and all she wanted was to put them away.

She stood up and moved around the house exhausted. She picked a pair of clean sheets and went back to her room. She locked the door, shut down the windows and closed the curtains. She breathed out loudly. Now she was unseen and nobody could judge her.

She set the clean sheets on the bed. A strong scent of lavender hit her. Finally, she went to the bathroom; put the scissors inside the first aid kit, under everything else, and put the kit on the back of the cabinet, until next time.

Next time… now that was an upsetting thought.

With everything else done, she just had to get rid of the shirt. She had second thoughts about washing it, since throwing it away would be complicated. Feeling a headache incoming, Connie opened her closet and threw the bloody rag inside. It wasn’t like her to postpone things, but… who was she kidding? This is standard Connie’s stress dealing procedure.

Connie looked at everything she’d done, and felt at peace for the first time that day. Then her eyes felt onto her standing mirror.

Oh no, this won’t do, she thought, meaning her hair. More specifically, the crow nest that had taken over her head and that she usually called hair.

She grabbed her blue hairbrush. Her hair was so entangled the regular ministrations won’t do, so she attacked it with brutal brushing motions. In the meantime, her mind kept producing images. Steven under the heavy rain, checking the soaked engine that broke down when he stopped to talk to her. The disappointed glance of her mom when she finds out all the scheming Connie went through to hide the truth. Her own hands shaking with anxiety as she takes the real test and she realizes she doesn’t know any answers.

She set the brush down. There. Now the image in the mirror was presentable —although some days, Connie wasn’t sure if it was really hers.

“I’m alright,” she said, with a voice that felt alien even to her. “I’ll be fine. I’m a warrior,” she added, more convinced with each word.

She was a warrior. Maybe she’d lost her center, but she could find it. She could be strong again. Once she gets a grip of herself and gets into college, everything will be alright.

Right? Right.

With this new resolution, Connie walked to her worktable. Her failed test was still there. Next to it was the half-done new test she had been working on when the static became too much.

Now, she could keep working and pretend all of this never happened. That this was just a very long study break, that everything she did was normal and healthy. It’s what she was expected to do, right?

Once again she thought of Steven, taking time from his trip to sit down under a deluge to talk to her. Breathe with her, as if they were one.

Connie’s hand reached towards the test… And then went left, grabbed the nearest book and dropped it over the papers.

This can wait… she thought, uncertain.

“This can wait,” she verbalized defiantly to the World.

With that problem done for, she had a free afternoon. She tapped her chin —she hasn’t had this free time in a while.

She picked her phone and flipped through the library. There was this reboot of ‘Crying Breakfast Friends’ that Steven had been bugging her to watch, but she’d been rain checked until she could pass the test. Maybe it’s time to keep the study waiting. She shuddered at that inch of her rebellious younger self taking over.

She picked her earphones and lay comfortable on her fresh, lavender-scented sheets. Five minutes into the first episode and she was cackling and crying with a cartoon about animated fruits while her papers —her physical future— waited on the table. And they’ll keep waiting until tomorrow.

Connie didn’t know if this was a step forward or backwards. But a step’s a step nonetheless; and she was still moving. 

#connie maheswaran #Steven quartz universe #connverse #self-harm #tw: blood #ptsd mention #dissociation

[flwrpotts]

Missing you writing for Reggieronnie tbh

vik, my love, anything for u. ty for ur patience, ur a dream

it’s getting harder to be someone, but it all works out/

it doesn’t matter much to me

hiram lodge dies the first real morning of summer, a june day crisp and bloody with promise. veronica walks into her father’s study, heels sharp on marble, gearing up for another round in their endless boxing match, something satisfying about the punch and effort of it. she has a manila file tucked under her elbow, her lipstick dark and immaculate, ready for a clean victory.

“i can hardly believe you’d stoop this low, daddy,” she starts as she walks in, a whiny thread of moral righteousness seeping into her voice. she’s expecting his oily, serpentine grin and pretend obliviousness, but instead her father is slumped over at his desk, neck bent at an angle that strikes veronica as deeply wrong before she can even get to the source of why. his skin is blanched, hair hanging in his face. unmistakably dead.

her father, her own personal devil, a tumbler of rum still at his side like he’s about to wake up and take a sip.

“daddy?” veronica asks, voice stripped of all bravado, frightened and small. she resents her own weakness but cannot help it. the room is strangled of all air, panic thrumming loud in her wrist. she acts on gut impulse, on rare instinct. on that starving, hungry animal that lives in her ribs named lodge.

reggie is her rock bottom guy, despite it all. they haven’t talked besides cursory hellos and polite small talk in the halls in months, and yet, it’s his doorstep she ends up on. it’s not as if they’ve ever been really close, but there’s a weird sense of belonging to one another, exclusively. their upbringings have instilled in them this need to possess without attachment, an ownership that feels better than love. they’re the same sort of monster where it really counts.

“ronnie?” he asks her, toweling off his wet hair, t-shirt sticking to him in damp patches. he smells like cheap boy shampoo and damp air, strangely appealing, tender as a bruise. his eyes flick up her, still immaculately dressed, despite it all.

“i need to leave,” she says, all in a rush. she can’t bear to explain herself further. there’s nothing in her except for this wild impulse to get the fuck out, to leave riverdale like it’s a blade pressed to her throat, threatening to break skin. a vital artery is about to be hit, is already split open, hemorrhaging wildly.

“alright,” he says, and steps out, shutting the door behind him, firm with promise. “let’s go then.”

she wakes up with her hair in her mouth, her boarding pass and passport clutched in one hand. memory flashes vaguely within her- finding her father, going to reggie’s doorstep, slinging old fashioneds at the airport bar and closing her eyes to pick a random flight. reggie is asleep next to her, young looking with his mouth a little open. she sits up from where she’s been slumped against his shoulder, looks down at her boarding pass.

well. she’s always wanted to go to amsterdam.

the city is filled with blood and money. her and reggie get off the flight with nothing except their clothes and shiny black credit cards. it’s probably too conspicuous to pick the grandest hotel she can find, but veronica doesn’t care. they settle into the luxurious suite and veronica sprawls out on the king bed, liking the crisp feeling of fresh sheets against her face. it’s not been twenty-four hours, and yet she’s already a world away. a full-bodied sprint away from the grief threatening to capsize in her chest.

“so,” reggie says, all casual, scoping out the minibar. “you want to talk about it?”

there are sixteen missed calls from archie flashing on her phone. more from her mother. guilt sickens inside her, as real as a bad tooth.

“no,” she says, and that’s that.

in amsterdam they mostly just get high. their hotel balcony has a view of the whole city, and in the late afternoon reggie rolls joints on the terrace, which are honestly bad considering how much practice he’s had, but veronica doesn’t care enough to learn better. they pass spliffs back and forth as the sun sets, and veronica goes as relaxed as she ever can, legs slung in reggie’s lap and breath high and tight in her chest. everything ceases to exist, the world funneling down to the sound of reggie’s voice, telling her about the latest in the hockey season or his stupid-brilliant idea for a start-up.

they both have nightmares so the nights are for clubbing, staggering in and out of doorways, reggie’s face abstracting out under neon lights. they make fast friends with the sorts of boys who always have baggies full of powder in their pockets, and veronica is always off her face, smudged dark and volcanic in her tiny black dresses, chain smoking on the corner as reggie gets a cab.

they keep vampire hours, crawling into bed as the sun is beginning to rise, and veronica wakes in the late afternoons with her head pillowed on reggie’s bare stomach, soft skin under firm muscle. the days begin to loop in a way that could almost become comfortable.

they’re eating in breakfast in a tiny bakery when veronica happens to glance at the television screen behind her. lodge will reading on hold as hunt for teenage heiress continues! flashes across the screen, and panic spikes hot and sour in her stomach, nausea pulsing in her throat.

reggie watches her face carefully, like a sailor watching the waves. “change of scenery?” he asks, and in a handful of hours they’re on a flight to shanghai.

shanghai is warm and unfamiliar, full of crowded street and the pulse of city lights, the skyline strange and neon and absurdly lovely. they buy beer for four cents a bottle from the convenience store and veronica washes her hair with the thin, anonymous shampoo of hotel bathrooms and feels the edges of her personhood coming apart.

for some reason they still haven’t fucked. she doesn’t quite know why- she can see the way reggie watches her in the gray dawn as she peels off her sequined dresses and skimpy black lingerie to pull on his old, soft t-shirts with holes in the collars. she knows in an objective sort of way that he wants her, the same she feels a pulse of need low in her stomach when he places a cigarette in her mouth, or gets out of the shower with a towel slung low around his waist.

maybe it’s out of some sort of respect for archie. or maybe they’re just testing one another.

they’re drinking in the second tallest building in the world, the entire continent sprawled out beneath them as the sun goes down, and veronica is drunk and blinded with her own power, drinking her third martini too fast.

one of the absurdly powerful businessmen comes up to flirt with her, charming and pushing thirty-five, wedding band winking on his finger. veronica puts on her cattiest, big little girl smile, lets her slip dress slide further up her thigh, and watches as reggie grinds his teeth beside her.

they fuck in the men’s bathroom, much too nice for such behavior, thousands of dizzying feet above ground. her head clatters back against the mirror and reggie’s fingers are rough where they cover her mouth, trying to keep her quiet, thumb dipping against her lower lip. she pops four buttons off his white button down, and he has her silky purple dress hiked up to her waist, and veronica forgets the grief that lives salty and hot in her throat, forgets riverdale, forgets who she is at all.

in london they go out to high tea and act like proper young adults, visiting the museums and having extravagant picnics in the gardens. veronica spends absurd, frivolous amounts of time assembling the menu for such outings, fizzy champagne and sponge cake and charcuterie boards. the dreams are still bad, but in the mornings she reads in bed, blankets tucked up around her face, while reggie goes for runs around the city.

these days they are settled into something nearly resembling domesticity. she is fond of the jut of reggie’s ankle and the way he takes his coffee, his tacky watch and the bottle of hair gel left on the bathroom sink. this strange boy who holds her hair back when she vomits and cries in his sleep like a little kid, who always has something in his pocket to slip under her tongue when they’re in line for the club.

it’s reggie who notices one day that they’re being followed, a man slumped inconspicuously behind them in a coffee shop near their hotel, at the table next to them that evening in the restaurant. riverdale never really leaves you, that shadow world of gangs and serial killers and a wild, cartoonish violence, smearing blood on everyone’s hands so bright it was almost orange, ketchupy.

they leave in the dead of night, sneaking out of the elevator of the hotel, and veronica is almost enjoying herself, feeling like a spy or assassin, a heroic figure. for a glittering second she misses riverdale, that cold rush of adventure, but then reggie laces their fingers together and when she wakes up she’s buoyed back to sleep by the comforts of the jet plane around her, humming and steady, dark over the pacific.

in jerusalem they stay in the heart of the old city, and veronica feeds scraps to the street cats, cooing when she wins over their affection. they float in the dead sea and reggie swipes mud across her cheek and she tugs on his ankle as he floats to make him lose his balance. they visit the western wall and watch as the holy men write their wishes down on scraps of paper, shoving them into the crevices on the side of the wall, thousands and thousands of them.

“do you ever feel the compulsive urge to pull them out and start reading other peoples’ wishes?” reggie asks, whispering in her ear, and veronica can’t decide whether she wants to laugh or cry. she has that same tug in her gut, that same steer towards wrongness. they’re made up of the exact same stuff.

reggie hands her a post-it note to write a wish, but veronica crumples it up, lets it float in the bottom of her purse with the broken cigarettes and half empty lipglosses and six types of currency. she has no more wishes.

#mine #quarantine prompts #riverdale #reggie x veronica #veronica x reggie #veggie #riverdale fic

[peachyblkdemonslayer]

Making my Way to you Chapter 6

God this is going to suck

Sero thought to himself as he and Amelia as far as they could from the hero team. The building they entered was a generic one, about 5 floors from what he can tell. As they ran Amelia asked them what the plan was for them.

"Uh well I'm not much of a planner if I'm being honest with you" he laughed nervously. She furrowed her brow a bit at that.

"Hmm ok will well figure out something. Ok so were fighting Kirishima and Ojiro for this one. Their both hands to hands kind of guys so there's no way of getting around that" she pondered with her pointer finger and thumb in her chin. 

"Yeah that is true my hand to hand not all that I more of a capture hero than anything." Sero said.

"Ok we can still use that to our advantage though, we either need to get the weapon or capture one of them that could be easy enough. How about you stand on guard and I'll go to them. Their probably thinking the same thing as we are plus you seem to be good at moving targets too" 

Sero thought ove what she said. She was right at him being good with moving targets  he would need to be to get the best use out of his quirk. Plus Amelia could do energy outlines with her quirk and that could take whoever's on guard for the weapon. Will he would just have to take her word on it.

"Yeah I'm good for that, if anything happens let me know. It's a good thing momo made this ear pieces for us huh?" Amelia smiled and nodded her agreement.

"Yeah keeping in contact with each other is easier for us this way. Alright I'm off wish me luck!" She waved to him as he turned the corner of the door and disappeared. Sighing he started to put tape all around the room to stop anything could cross the halfway point of the room. 

After doing that he stood in a relaxed yet ready to fight stand with the door on his line of sight. As ten minutes passed he pressed on his ear piece on being greeted with heaving breathing. 

"Hey Amelia is everything good??"

"Hah...man I need to...work on my stamina..fuck" 

"Do you need help? Who are you fighting??"

"I'm fighting Kirishima"

Sero cursed under his breath at that. Kirishima is a solid fighter and with his quirk that makes him even more of a force to be reckoned with.

"But dont worry I'm trying to get him off his feet so just stand by just in case ok?" 

"Yeah no problem" the signal cut off as he sighed once again as he waited.

They ended up winning that round well enough. Amelia and Kirishima had been really going at it from what the others said when they were watching them.

"Yeah dude Amelia nothing to mess with. She fights like a pro!!" Kaminari exclaimed.

He kinda wish he had the chance to see it if he was being honest. The mild shaking of the build did scary him a bit but still would have been cool to see. They had just one fight left to see and that being Kaminari and Jirou vs Momo and Niya. 

"So how do you think this will turn out?" Sero asked Tsu. The frog girl out a finger to her chin as she pondered.

"I dont know Niya and Momo seem to be really smart. Though Kaminari lacking in that department his quirk isn't anything to mess with either. Plus Jirou can hear pretty far from what I can tell when we did our quirk exams. So it could go either way depending on what they do"

"Hmmm yeah that's true. I just hope that it wont get to intense. That fight with Midoriya and Bakugo was crazy." Sero rubbed the back of his head. Tsu nodded in agreement.

"Yeah that fight was crazy. And Midoriya breaking his arm like that was scary and kinda of gross" Toruu added.

"Hope hes ok though" Uraraka said in a somber tone. Sero night brother kicked up a bit at that and he put a hand in the shorter girl's shoulder. When she looked up at him he gave a smile.

"Hey dont worry to much she'll be ok. We have recovery girl so he wont be out for long I'm sure he'll be fine by the end of the day. Alright?" 

Uraraka smiled, "Yeah your right!! Thanks Sero" 

"Yeah no problem mija. Beside you wouldnt want to miss this fight. I'm curious to see who'll win in the end" 

"Oh yeah look their starting!" She pointed at the huge monitor on the wall. They could see the split screen of the two teams Jirou was kneeling with her Jack in the wall. 

Niya and Momo were on the third floor of the building standing by the door and seemed to be whispering from what he could tell. They did that for a couple minutes before stopping.

"What do you think their talking about?" Ojiro asked no one in particular.

"I would have to say maybe the advantage the hero team have over them. Momo has a very tactical mind and Niya doesn't seem like the type to just rush into a fight" Tokoyami commented. Most of the class agreed with him on that. Sero could see why All Might put those two on a team. 

The two girls ran out the room down the hallway, Jirou took her jack out the wall and seemed to say to Kaminari that the other team was on the move. 

"Hmmm I wonder if their just testing to see how far Jirou can hear" Iida said putting his thumb and pointer finger on his chin. 

"More then likely yeah" Tsu chimed in.

Momo and Niya took a sharp turn when they got to the second floor just barely missing Kaminari and Jirou. When they got to the end of the hallway they stopped and looked around confused. Niya tapped Momos shoulder and said something that made the slightly taller girl eyes widened in shock for a second. Her eyes then sharpened into a look into determination before she nodded to Niya with a smile.

That smile must have been what she needed to go into action. At that moment she made her move to the other team position. Kaminari turned around to her as he stepped back from her in fear. Jirou extending her earlobe into her boot stereo to blow Niya away.

"Why is Niya fighting them by herself??" Uraraka asked. 

"I dont know she maybe shes just buying Momo sometime I think she making something" Tokoyami answered. Sero eyes leaned on the bottom right screen of the monitor to see that momo was in fact leaned over and her face scrunched up in concentration. She skins was cracked around the item she was making, Sero couldn't make out what she was making.

Going back to the top screens Sero saw Jirou wet with water that he wasn't sure where it came from. Looking closely he saw that Kaminari seemed a bit nervous for some reason. Niya stood with her right foot behind her and her left in front, her arms held in a pose hands cup a but like she was holding a ball in each hand. 

"Ah!! No wonder Kaminari looked scared. Niya has a water based quirk!!" Toruu yelped. Sero eyes went wide at that fact, he didn't know how he kept forgetting that.

The three stood very still for a while, waiting for anyone to make a move. Though some may have thought it was unneeded Sero could see why she did that. His eyes moved over to the screen showing where Momo was making whatever. She seemed a bit woozy from how she was standing but she stood firm.

She put her to two fingers in her ear and started talking into her ear piece. Around the same time Niya perked up a bit and a slow smile came up on her face at whatever Momo was saying to her. Jirou eyes seemed to have heard an idea of what they were talking about.

"Hey what are doing??" Amelia asked. Before anyone could talk Niya shoot forth a powerful steam of water at Kaminari slamming him into the wall behind him. Jirou yelled something but cried out and put her hands over her ears.

"Hey what happened to Jirou??" Kirishima asked. Amelia screahed the screens and looked back at Momo.

"Oh that's what she was making!!" She exclaimed.

"What? What did she make??" Mina tugged at Amelia sleeves. Sero laughed a bit at the childish action from the pink skinned girl.

"She made a huge speaker to blare out when Jirou tired to listen in on her. That makes some much sense in the long run" 

"Yeah those two arent anything to mess with huh?" The class nodded in agreement. All Might announced the winners of the round.

As the school day came to a end Sero made his way home when he heard the hurried steps of someone behind him. 

"Hey Sero!" A high voiced called to him, the taller boy turned to the voice. He saw the chubby statue of Amelia as she jogged up behind him.

"Oh hey Ameila what's up?" 

She hunched over hands on her knees as she huffed, "Ha nothing just saw that your were walking home and wanted to join you. My house is in the general direction" 

"Oh really?? Well then Ms.Baker lets get home then"

She smiled as a warm feeling crawled up his chest when she did so. The two teens talked about the mock fights they and their classmates had.

"Man Bakugo is fucking off the wall with how he acted during him and Midoriya fight" Amelia said as she typed on her phone. Sero side eyed her to see someone with the name Tall girl something. 

"Yeah Bakugo is intense when it comes to the fighting from what I've seen. But Kirishima says hes not so bad but I dont for sure" he shrugged his shoulder.

"Hmmm I see what your saying. But man Niya and Momo are bad bitches!!! With the versatility of their quirks, they could take over the world" her cheeks flushed up at but as she pumped her fist in the air with a smile on her face.

"I can see why All Might did what he did when putting those two together. Kaminari and Jirou never really stood a chance." Sero added.

"So since were walking what your story?" Her arms swinging on her sides. Her head tilted a bit as she looked at him, her bamboo earrings touched her cheeks with her action.

He lifted a eyebrow with a smile, "What do you mean by that?" 

She rolled her brown eyes at him, "Like your family, hobbies stuff like that" she elbowed him.

"Heh ok I see what you mean. Well The name's Sero Hanta I'm the oldest of three in my family. My Mama came from Puerto Rico when she met my Dad here in the Japan. I like to do gymnastics doing my free time, but with U.A . six days school week I dont know when I'll get the chance again" He sighed in thought.

Gymnastics is a sport he did to relax and gain a piece of mind. Hes been doing it since he was around 5 years old, he can still feel the tingles that covered his body when he did his first handstand by himself.

"Aww that's so cool! I bet your super flexible!! Can you do a toe touch?" 

Sero blinked once.

Then again.

Then again.

"Huh?" 

"Ummm can you do a toe touch??" She asked in a confused matter. The two stopped for a moment as Sero brain stopped working for a moment. 

"Oh uh yeah I can let me put this down real quick" he said sliding his bookbag from his shoulder. Amelia grabbed his bag and stepped back to get him some space. 

Sero stretched some to avoid some unneeded aches later on in the night. He took a few breaths in and out before leaping into the air. With his height he was about 4 feet off the ground. Amelia gasped when he landed on the ground in a straight posture.

"Wow good job!!" Amelia clapped, Sero gave a bow to her as he laughed. Passing over his jacket to him Amelia looked at her phone for the time.

"Ahh shit I have to get home!! Niya and Me are suppose to be having a study party. Sorry about that Sero I'll see you later!" She yelled behind her as she ran her way home. 

"Ah yeah see ya later!" He called back to the girl. His hand slowly lowered as he watched as she slowly disappeared into the streets and people of the city.

He sighed as he turned the corner, "Man shes all over the place kinda reminds me of Mina a bit".

He reached with house about 20 minutes later. He opened the door with a yawn when a small body slammed into him making his legs buckle a bit. Muffled laughs reached his ears as he looked down to see a head of dark brown hair. Rolling his eyes in fake annoyance at the little boy but picked him up none the less as he entered the house.

"Hi Sero!!!" Haru yelled at the top of his lungs. The scrapping of plates and running water became louder as he got closer. He sat down his school bag on the love seat, stomps could be heard upstairs. 

Maybe its Papa doing some exercise with Mari from all that noise.

"Hey Haru how was your day mijo?" The five year old legs swung back and forth as they made their way to the kitchen, his mom gave him a kiss on the forehead as she sat out the plates.

"Oh it was good! I can spell most of the practice words by myself!" His smile covered his face as his eyes shined in achievement.

"Woah good job!! Now about you spell some for me then" the smaller nodded and jumped off Sero lap and ran upstairs to get his worksheet.

"Oi! Tell you dad and sister to come down with you to eat!!" Their mom called to him.

"So Sero anything interesting happened at school today for you?" Curly hair pulled into a low ponytail as she mixed the pot with her hand on her hip.

"Honeslty kinda of intense, first we had All Might teaching our class he had I do mock fight with our classmates. One fight had one kid broke all the bones in his arms and pass out from the pain" He never understood how Midoriya was even able to handle all that pain he was in the first place. He would have passed out not to long after pulling that stunt.

Hylla lips flipped up in a grimace at his story, "Ah I hope that baby's ok that's a lot to happen to someone on their first day. How about your fight?" 

"Ahh I mostly stood back and protected the weapon. My classmate did most of the fighting shes super strong too!! Her quirk is cool" Hylla passed him a orange juice box as he thanked her.

"Ooh really? What kind of quirk does she have?" 

"Hmmm she calls it energy absorption she can take the engery from anything or anyone around her. She had to fight another classmate with a hardening quirk it sounded like she was having a hard time with him" 

"Well it's a reason you kids are there, to get the best teaching to help you get the ins and outs of your quirk" the stampede of feet coming down the stairs made the two pause for a bit. A man in their mid 40s came into the kitchen doorway his hair close shaven and a smile on his face as he greeted his oldest.

"Ah Hanta my boy how was school today??" A strong arm wrapped itself around his bony shoulder, he hope he would be as tall as his dad when he was older. 

"Ugh-! Ah good Papa doing some mock fights, getting to know some classmates better all that jazz" he let out a breath of relief when his Papa let him go and almost dropped him back into his seat. 

"I heard you had All Might for a teacher, is he as cool in real life as he is on tv?" Mariposa leaned into her hand as she glanced over at her older brother. He pondered on that question for a moment.

"Hmm yeah for the most part, hes super big even though I knew that but seeing it in real life is a bit eye opening"

"Well son with how your growing yall be behind him in no time" he heard his sister snort in an attempt to cover up her laugh. He stuck his tongue out at her since he couldn't flip her off, in front of their parents at least.

"Your father's not wrong, you what 5'10 at this point?? You'll be as big as your uncle in a couple years if your anything like him" Hylla commented off handed eating her rice.

"Oh wow Hanta you'll be a giant!! You could carrying me everywhere" Haru said excitedly.

"Alright we get it Hanta going to grow like a weed no need to rub it in" Mari said grumpy as she picked at her food. Their mom eyed her over her cup as she drank.

"Aye shorty dont take that out on us" she said with a smirk. It was Sero turn to laugh at the look on his sister face from the short comment. She hated when people did that.

"Oh come now Hylla dont mess with her too much, you'll bite your ankles if you keep at it" 

Mariposa threw a fish at their Pap face as everyone at the table laughed till they couldn't breath.

#amelia baker #sero hanta #bnha #black bnha ocs #my writing #sero haru #sero mariposa #hylla Rodriguez-sero #sero ren

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Super embarrassed Dad!Bakugou coming right up. (･ω･)b Thank you for the request and asking for something featuring my OCs! I hope you enjoy it! 

Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC) Featuring Matsuki and Otoha

“Are you sure this is even necessary? He’s not stupid—” 

“It doesn’t matter that he’s not stupid, Katsuki. You and I aren’t stupid and we both got the talk.” 

Bakugou sighed loudly as he rubbed the inner corners of his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, wishing he could think of some way, any way at all, to avoid having to do this. He knew that, as parents, it was going to come up eventually. His eldest son, Matsuki, was sixteen and beginning to show a specific kind of interest in a certain girl. After what his daughter had blabbed to him about seeing them making out, he knew that it was time, no matter how badly he wished it wasn’t. Matsuki needed The Talk. 

“Why does it have to be me, Utsuro?” Bakugou glowered up at his wife, who was standing in front of him while he sat on the bed. “You’re closer to him, he’d probably be more comfortable talking about it to you.” 

Koge shook her head, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. “No way! He wouldn’t be able to handle that, I’m already worried he’s going to blow up the entire house from embarrassment as it is! He’d feel more comfortable with you.” 

“Just because we’re both men?” Bakugou gave a roll of his eyes, flopping back to lay down with an annoyed sigh. “That doesn’t matter.” 

“But it does.” Koge moved to stand between his legs that were still hanging off the end of the bed, placing both hands on his thighs and giving a firm, punishing squeeze. “Did you want to talk to your mother about this when you were sixteen?” 

“Fuck no!” Bakugou rested one arm over his eyes, ignoring her touch. “I didn’t even have a real talk! No sitting down all serious, all she did was scream at me to not go around having sex and then told my dad to buy me condoms just incase!” 

Koge couldn’t resist a sputtering giggle, crawling onto the bed to sit down on his stomach, landing with a purposeful rough plop to make him grunt in annoyance and remove his arm from his face. “Well, you still turned out alright. But you gotta do it, Katsuki. You know how that feels from a boy's point of view. Just be nice and gentle with him, don’t scold him about it, he can’t help that he has feelings for Otoha.” 

Bakugou let both hands rest on his lover’s thighs, glaring up at her, though his brow was furrowed with worry. “What if I fuck up?” 

“You won’t. Just make sure that he knows boundaries, and that… he can always come talk to us if he needs to.” 

“He’s too smart for this, Utsuro. He already knows.” 

“But what if he doesn’t, and we’re assuming? We shouldn’t do that. We have to try.” Koge leaned forward, propping herself up on her hands on either side of his head. “Don’t make me have to force you.” 

Bakugou scoffed, smirk crossing his lips. “What would you do, huh? Your pouting shit didn’t work last night, and we both know you can’t ignore me.” 

Koge leaned forward, giving his cheek a rough, playful kiss, giggling as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “If you don’t do it, maybe your mom will come over and do it for you.” 

“No! My mother is not going to traumatize my son like she did me!” He flipped them over so that she was pinned beneath him, her giggles temporarily lost to the ferocious nature of his punishment kisses. When he set her free, he pressed his forehead to hers, glaring down at her in defeat. “Fine, Utsuro. I’ll do it.” 

Cupping his cheeks gently, Koge placed a soft and comforting kiss on his lips, stroking his skin softly with his thumbs. “You got this. But you had better do it now while you’re feeling brave. Just rip it off like a band aid.” 

With an annoyed huff, Bakugou turned his head to kiss her palm before peeling himself from her, rolling off the bed to stand. “Fine! You owe me big time for this.” 

“Don’t worry, Katsuki.” Koge smiled, staying in her spot. “I’ll think of something for you.” 

Bakugou playfully pushed her leg over as he exited the room, turning his gaze down the hall towards Matsuki’s room. The door was shut, but he knew that Matsuki was in there, as he always liked to spend his Saturday evenings talking to Otoha over video chat. As he approached the door, he stopped, listening for a moment. Matsuki was in there alright, laughing quietly at something. He couldn’t hear anyone in response, assuming that Matsuki was using headphones, as he normally did. So, he knocked a bit louder than normal to make sure that he got his sons attention. 

“Oh, hold on Oto-Chan, someone’s at my door. Yeah, I’ll call you back.” 

A nervousness began to boil in Bakugou’s stomach, taking in and releasing a heavy breath as he shoved his hands into his sweatpants pockets. Before he could prep himself in any way, the door opened, Matsuki peering at him with curious confusion. 

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” 

“Hey, Matsu, can I uhm… talk to you for a second?” Attempting to hide his nervousness was an immediate failure, as Matsuki’s own worry crossed his features. Matsuki was never in trouble, so just that simple phrase instantly sparked an obvious anxiety in him. Bakugou knew that, just from the furrow of his sons brow, that he had already fucked this up. 

“Sure.” Matsuki took a step back, allowing his father into his room. Bakugou noticed that it was impeccable, as always, the desk at which he studied and did school work being the only thing remotely messy. Being in here only further made Bakugou feel like there wasn’t a point to this, that Matsuki would know how to behave himself and be safe. 

“Did I interrupt your studying?” Bakugou wasn’t sure why he asked that, knowing full well what his son had been doing. Still, he needed something, some way to start this conversation and not blurt out what he wanted. 

With a shake of his head, Matsuki shut his door, making his way back to his computer chair and plopping down, trying to seem like he wasn’t nervous himself. “Nope, I was just talking to Otoha. Why, is something wrong?” 

Giving a small cough to clear his throat, Bakugou sat down on the edge of Matsuki’s bed across from him, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. “No Matsu, nothing is necessarily wrong. But It is kind of a serious thing.” 

Instantly, Matsuki’s face flushed, reaching up to ruffle his spiked blonde hair that was nearly a perfect replication of Bakugou’s. “W-wait, is this about what Natsuki said? About Otoha and I?” 

“Yeah, yeah it is-” 

“D-Dad, please, you don’t have to have ‘the talk’ with me, okay?” Matsuki stood, holding his hands up defensively. His face was only growing darker by the second, bringing a frown to Bakugou’s lips. “Things are okay, you don’t have to worry about us, it’s just a little kissing.” 

Bakugou sighed, giving a small shake of his head. “Kissing turns into more very fast, even if you think you wouldn’t let it. Stuff can happen in a rush sometimes. I just want to make sure you understand how to be prepared or, if necessary, avoid those situations all together until the right time.” 

“N-No, Dad, you don’t get it. I can’t— I wouldn’t let it get like that. I just can’t do it.” Matsuki began to wring his hands, a sign to Bakugou that he was trying to control his quirk from going off. “I can’t do more, not- not right now.” 

“Can’t?” That was a response Bakugou wasn’t exactly expecting. “What do you mean?” 

At being confronted with this question, Matsuki’s hands began to crackle and pop with nervous small explosions, which were very familiar to Bakugou. Not just from having to help Matsuki deal with his anxiety prompted explosions, but from his own years as a teenager, when his would go off from similar situations. Pacing now, Matsuki let out a heavy sigh, shaking his hands to try and stop the explosions. “W-what if I… what if I hurt her? What if I can’t control them? I can’t risk it, not until I have better control.” 

After a moment of silence, Bakugou gave a small chuckle, nodding in understanding. “Ah, Matsu, I get it. I was scared of that for a while, too, but it’s never happened. Not once. You have more control than you think. Remember, you know it’s your overthinking that gets you worked up.” 

“I haven’t gotten any better recently, though. Natsuki can still come up and spook me from behind, and my explosions will go off from that! They go off when I’m nervous about getting a test score back, when I drop my lunch at school, or even when Otoha just smiles at me. It’s like it’s gotten worse! There’s no way I’d be able to handle doing… doing that with her.” Matsuki sat down again, a mixture of embarrassment and shame forcing him to keep his gaze averted from Bakugou’s. “Even with everything you’ve shown me, I still can’t control things.” 

“You’re going through a lot of extra stress right now, Matsu, it’s no wonder you’re having those problems. You’re trying to graduate early, already applying for colleges and scholarships and all those things. It doesn’t help that, on top of that, you’re trying to pursue a more meaningful relationship with Otoha. It’s just been this year that you’ve had trouble.” Bakugou rubbed his palms together, kind of glad that the conversation switched so quickly to something he was more comfortable discussing. Still, he knew he couldn’t let that deter him from the whole purpose of this. 

Matsuki sighed, slumping down into his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he glared up at the ceiling. “What if I ruin my chances with her just because of my quirk? What if she loses her patience with me? I don’t want that to happen, either… The make out session Natsu told you about wasn’t as perfect as one would think… I had to stop because I got freaked out and I hurt her feelings.” 

Bakugou gave a small grunt in understanding, looking down at his hands. “Kiddo, it might surprise you, but I was the same way. I did those things to your mom… Different reasons, but still similar things. I couldn’t even hold her hand in public for months without feeling like my chest was going to explode. She almost had to force me out of my bubble to do those things, simple things that seem common sense to anyone to be comfortable doing. I guess what I’m getting at is that, if Otoha truly cares about you, she won’t lose her patience and she won’t give up on you.” 

There was silence between them for a while as Matsuki processed his words, swiveling slightly in his chair. Eventually, he gave a small nod, finally risking a glance at Bakugou. “You’re right… She’s already told me that, too, but… It’s not easy when she’s so eager and… I want to make her happy. But I don’t want to do anything wrong.” 

“She’s the eager one, eh? I’d just talk to her about it, Matsu. You both communicate well, from what I can tell, I’m sure you can settle and set boundaries so things don’t get pushed too far, without you both being one hundred percent on board.” Bakugou gave a small shrug in thought. “Unlike how I was as a teenager, you’re very good at talking out your feelings. All I did was shut myself off and make things harder. You two will figure it out.” Bakugou stood, shoving his hands into his pockets as he sighed. “Sorry I had to come in here and bug you about this.” 

“It’s alright.” Matsuki smiled, sitting up normally in his chair. “I knew it would come some day. Just… know that I’m well aware of what’s right and wrong, and you both don’t have to worry about me.” 

Bakugou nodded, giving Matsuki a firm couple of pats on the shoulder before he began to make his way to the door. “I expected as much. Just let me know if you need to talk about anything. I only ever dated your mom, though, so I’m probably not the best for how to handle problems. But I can talk you through… things.” 

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” Matsuki’s face only flushed again at the thought of discussing anything intimate, swallowing hard enough that Bakugou could hear it across the room. “Thanks, Dad.” 

Feeling that awkward cloud begin to form around him again, Bakugou only gave a nod, leaving the room as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. With a sigh, he leaned on the wall, rubbing his temple as he tried to recover. That wasn’t too bad, but I fucked up there at the end… What a—

“Wha— Otoha, you were still on the call?!” 

Instantly, Bakugou’s face flushed with fire, covering his mouth to muffle his sputtering gasp of shock. Before he could hear another word, he made his way down the hall and back into the master bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. Curious, Koge looked up from her phone, frown crossing her lips at Bakugou’s obviously distressed state. 

“My Katsuki, what’s the matter?” 

“Everything is wrong.” Bakugou brought both hands up to his face, groaning into his palms as he shuffled towards and fell face first onto the bed. Since Koge was still laying down, Bakugou wormed his way to her, latching his arms around her hips as he shoved his face into her stomach. “Why does it have to be like this?” 

Koge stroked his hair softly, feeling both worried at his attitude, but also highly amused. “Did it really go that bad?” 

“It went fine. Everything was fucking great, we understood each other and he talked some shit out with me, and then as I close the door I hear that Otoha was on the video chat the whole time! She heard it.” 

Koge gasped, feeling her own face flush. “Oh no… Katsuki, you had the talk with your son, but also your best friend's daughter.” 

“I can never look at her or Matsuki ever again.” 

“Well… she’s supposed to come by for dinner tomorrow, so… Better get your game face on.” 

“Why does being a parent have to be the fucking worst sometimes.” 

“Because it’s the best all the other times. Don’t worry, Katsuki… You’ll just have to do it one more time to Atsuki.” 

“Urgh…” 

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x oc #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #oc #original character #koge #bakugou x koge #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #cutesuki-oc #request

[melo-yello]

Zero Part 2 (Sweet Pea x POC Reader)

Pairing(s): Sweet Pea x POC Reader

Warning(s): It only gets fluffier, more goofy ass nicknames, and tons of cursing/mild confrontation

Word Count: 2,3k+

Summary: River Vixen Reader is flunking Trig but a certain leather jacket clad math wiz is here to help her out.

A/N: I kno 3 or 4 weeks is a lot longer than soon but it took a minute to get it the way I like it but it's here now so 🙌 Comment and I'll add you to the Taglist.

“V that's what I'm saying Arch is loyal to fault letting him into your world won't scare him away. Tell her B.” You affirm walking out of your 2nd block English class. You toss Betty a light elbow to get her attention. 

“Yea Veronica, he's kinda blind like that. He'd stick by you no matter what you do.” She spits shooting Veronica a death glare before out pacing the both of you. 

You trade glances between where Betty was standing and Veronica with her head down. 

“What just happened?” You question placing a hand on her shoulder. She sighs heavily.  

As if his spidey senses went off Archie appears out of nowhere snaking his arms around her waist and pecking her cheek. 

“Hey Ronnie. Hey Y/n. What's up?” He chuckles. 

“Nothing just that my best friend hates me.” Veronica says leaning into him. 

Well my work is done here, Archie to the rescue. 

“Ronnie that's not true-” is all you hear as you take the perfect opportunity to sneak off and meet up with Sweet Pea even though your inner gossip was dying for you to stay. 

He doesn't seem like he has much patience for waiting. 

You ease into library without so much as a sound. The place is practically a dead zone. You are sure you spot a couple spiders packing their things and leaving. 

A quick snort escapes you as you stifle the swelling laughter at your own joke. 

“Hey Wilber, I'm over here.” Sweet Pea says waving three shelves down by a window in a corner. 

“Hahaha. Did you come up with that all by yourself, 21 Jump Street.” You snip back sitting across from him as you hand him your homework. 

“Would you prefer-Jesus Y/n?!?” He nearly shouts with his jaw slacked as he lays eyes on the cluttered first problem on you homework, “You weren't kidding about needing tutor. Hell maybe a miracle worker is better match, Helen Keller.”

You roll your eyes to stare out the window as you twirl a curl around your finger while balancing a cheek on your fist. You try your best not to look as hurt as you feel pressing a stoic anger into your features instead. 

Even strangers could tell I'm stupid. 

“If I'm too stupid to help that's all you had to say.” You mutter wishing this kinda stuff didn't make your head spin. 

“A dumb cheerleader what a sur-” He paused catching the expression on your face. He could tell that he struck a nerve. He has definitely hurt your feelings and for some reason he cared.

“Fuck you pal, but that's what I'm good at! Thought I was good at the school thing too but APPARENTLY NOT! If I wanted to get made fun of I would've just asked one those stuck up assholes from my side of town so they can at least gossip behind my back.” You yell as you stand slamming your hands on the wooden table. 

Sweet Pea stands, looking just as indignant as you. 

“What the hell gave you the idea us Southsiders would be any better, Y/n! We're just people!”

“I didn't ask the Southside! I asked you! And I guess I thought you of all people weren't mean for sport!”

Sweet Pea's face holds its waning rage for a moment longer as his gaze meets yours. Neither you or him willing to back down. 

He sits snatching up the pen and turning attention back to his corrections on your homework. 

“Hey,” this time his voice much softer than it has ever been directed toward you,  “do you have your test? I need to see all the things you're doing wrong if I'm gonna have you ready for the next one.” He sighs apologetically with his eyes trained on the page scribbling away. 

You clear your throat and his eyes gaze up to meet yours. 

A look of shock settles on to your features as you search his dark eyes for a hint of sarcasm. You sit down and gingerly pass him your paper. 

“You really think you can?” You question waiting for him to pull the rug from under you so you could storm out. 

“Shit, I taught Fangs square roots, didn't I?” Sweet Pea grins over confidently taking the test and flipping through it as he slides your homework over. 

“You know I don't actually know who that is?” You say blankly as you try to imagine what a guy named Fangs would even look like before looking at what he'd done to your homework. 

“Not the point. The point is you're in good hands.” He nods. 

“Alright, Allstate. As long as you know you're gonna have to do a lot of explaining.” You say screwing up your face as you try your best to make sense of the corrected work. 

“That's okay I like being right,” He smiles before looking up at you, “...and for the record I don't think you're stupid.”

You just nod so glad that your embarrassment couldn't be seen on your brown skin. 

“Okay your biggest problem is that you've swapped the trig functions reciprocals. Like you put sine with secant and cosine with cotangent.” He says slowly pointing to the first couple test problems he had started to correct. 

The majority of the session is spent with him re-explaining concepts and reworking the test. 

The bell rings as you stuff your papers in bag. The idea of  passing Trig seeming a little less impossible. 

“What do I owe you, Grease Lightning?” You say putting a firm negotiating face on. Doing your best to suppress the smirk that keeps trying to work its way on your face. 

“Hmm you'll probably being needing help at least 4 days out of the week. I don't do weekends or Fridays. So 25 for each session and an IOU biweekly sounds fair to me?” He says extending his hand for you to shake. 

“Why the IOU?! What the hell is that good for?...I'm not that kinda-!”

“Don't worry Ms.Prude and Prejudice I'm a serpent not a sleaze. They're not interchangeable. It's just for leverage.” He cuts you off with a pointed look. 

“What kind of leverage, Gangsta's Paradise?” You hiss with crossed arms with your lips tight. 

“Considering you hang out with Cheryl Blossom queen bitch of screwing the Southside over at this school and Veronica Lodge the master manipulator that even lies to her friends forgive me if I don't trust you or your judge of character, L/n.” he says confidently. A smug grin spreading across his face.  

You feel a rebuttal crawl up, but swallowed it just as quickly.

As rudely as he put it, he had a point. For an outsider looking in there's plenty of room for suspicion. 

“Rude, but true. What does my judge of character say about you then, Pea.” You shrug extending your hand to him. 

“Just that even Pep Squad Prima Donnas get lucky...Insanely lucky.” He nods taking your hand in his. 

…

“How long does it take to pick a lock, Sticky Fingers. We're gonna get caught.” You whisper peering out the boys locker room door then back at Sweet Pea finally prying open the last locker. 

“Get your panties out of a wad, Malibu Barbie. That was seven lockers in less than two minutes.” Sweet Pea says tying the cords of five party poppers to the inside of the locker door. 

He takes a step back surveying his handy work. Seven lockers hold a special surprises for the football team, alternating between party poppers and those popper firecrackers. Sweet Pea tilts his head to the side and extends his hand palm up to you. 

“I think, Mantle gets the firecrackers too.” He nods as you hand him the bag. 

“So is this how you tell all the pretty boys you have a crush on them?, or just our beloved team captain.  Reggie should be faltered.” You laugh stuffing a hand full of poppers in your pocket for later. 

“As if, drug selling rich assholes aren't my type, Y/n. This is how you tell Northside shits, no offense, there are consequences to chaining our bikes together in the parking lot without getting suspended at the same time.” He says emptying the entire bag inside before shutting the door tight. 

“None taken. What is your type then, Sweets?” You say shutting a locker or two and heading for the door. 

“Oh just the know it all, stubborn as hell, loudmouth type with the most obnoxious sense of self entailment and the shortest fuse imaginable and most importantly someone who pretends to be a total hard ass but actually is a complete softy. Oh, not to mention they probably think they're absolutely hilarious and are not.” He says shutting the remaining lockers before smiling at you with a self assured grin. 

His dark brown eyes met yours fiercely like he's daring you. 

“You just described yourself, Romeo.” You snort rolling your eyes to the back of your skull and shaking off the creeping gooey feeling in your chest.

In the past couple of weeks this has become your unspoken game. One trying to rattle the other.

“What can I say the heart wants what the heart wants,” Sweet Pea shrugs now standing over you. 

You don't budge. You just bat your eyelashes and place a hand on his forearm. 

“So helping me pass this next quiz is a work of philanthropy and on the house because that's what my heart wants.” You say flashing sly grin up at him. 

“Nice try, Casanova. Not a chance you're buying lunch plus a dessert.” Sweet laughs eyeing your hand as he opens the door.

You snatch your warm brown fingers away and step into the hallway.  It's almost empty save for a couple kids at their lockers. 

As you step out you spot a certain football team captain shutting his locker and eyes landing on you.

Uh oh.  

You skid back into the taller teen behind you as Reggie locks eyes with you from across the hall. His eyes nearly glow red as he makes his way over to the closing locker room. 

“THIS BETTER NOT BE WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” Reggie shouts glaring over your head at Sweet Pea. 

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE TO YOU, MANTLE.” The taller teen fires back tugging you behind him. 

“I'M NOT TALKIN TO YOU, SNAKE! N/n, is this bag of dicks bothering you?!?” Reggie's tone softens automatically when addressing you. 

“Reg, I'm fine! Mind your own fucking business!” You scowl trying to push pass Sweet Pea.

“YOU MAKIN MOVES ON N/N IN THE LOCKER ROOM, SNAKE!” Reggie threatens poking Pea's chest. 

“And Even If I was, Mantle! SHE'S A BIG GIRL SHE CAN MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS! WHAT THE HELL YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT!” Sweet Pea growls pushing Reggie back a couple feet. 

“SO YOU ARE SLUMMIN IT WITH THE SERPENTS, NOW, N/N! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK FOR A SECOND YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER!” Reggie spits in absolute outrage before trying to charge the leather clad teen.

Sweet Pea cracks his knuckles and steps up to meet the football player head on. 

This isn't gonna end well.

You roll your e/c eyes. 

Shitheads. They're both complete shitheads. 

As soon Pea moves from caging you behind him you step right between them. 

“One more word, and Weatherbee won't be your biggest problem, Genie!” You glare at the teen in the Letterman. 

All of Reggie's former vibrato fades to worried irritation. 

“You Wouldn't Dare, N/n!” He scoffs. 

Sweet Pea just trades confused glances from one of you to the other. 

“You know I would, Genie. I've got her on speed dial.” You smirk at him with you finger poised to press the call button. 

“You're such a little asshole sometimes.” Reggie says rolling his eyes as he backs away but not before taking fingers to his eyes then pointing them dead at Pea.

You nod heading toward the cafeteria as the bell rings and the hall starts to fill up. 

The tree of a teen doesn't move until someone nearly bumps into him. Sweet Pea catches you by the shoulder causing you to slow your pace to his. 

“How, N/n?” He questions completely baffled and a little impressed. 

"One, only Genie calls me, N/n, Sweet Pea. Two, call it a way with words. Beauty doth soothe the savage beast. He means well he's just an ass." You say shaking your head giving him a look like he should have known better. 

"One, it's music doth soothe the savage beast not beauty. And two, Genie...OH GOD! Is that mouth breather your ex?" Pea fake gags pointing finger down his throat. 

"Oh fuck no, hard pass. Reginald Mantle is my cousin. We used to take baths together and everything."

Sweet Pea's brow wrinkles as he hits you with a confused dark brown gaze before giving an unsure nod. 

"School Spirit, why are you giving me that clueless as hell fa-Oh yea! You're a southsider." You smirk at his confusion starting to make perfect sense. 

He rolls his eyes and gestures to the white turtleneck covered by that dorky RHS polo as if the mandated Southside uniforms weren't a good enough reminder. 

"My Uncle Beau, who's basically my older brother, married his older sister, Frances, before we were out of diapers. We grew up together and when we hit middle school Genie thought I wasn't cool enough to hang with him anymore and started picking on me. Frances found out and we haven't had problems since. Its kinda old news, Poindexter." You shrug handing him a tray.  He dodges as if the plastic is poisonous or something. 

"You're not slick, Princess Morbucks. Even with your failed attempt to bore me to tears with a bullshit northside history lesson, last time I checked we agreed on Pop's and this ain't it." Pea smirks pointing at the double doors out of the cafeteria. 

"You're a real pain." You tossing the plastic trays back on the stack and exiting the caf as he holds the door before following. 

Neither of you notice half the room of southsiders and northsiders alike watching your bazaar interaction. 

Taglist: @dreamsfromanemptyteacup @anninhiliation @consultingkilljoywinchester @thecraziestcrayon @teesimagines @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e

#sweet pea #riverdale #sweet pea x reader #riverdale sweet pea #smart sweet pea #reginald mantle #veronica lodge #betty cooper #archie andrews #season 2 #poc reader #black reader

[werevulvi]

Why does going to the gyno always end up weird? There's your trigger warning for this post. This gets at least borderline bad, considering my poor judgement of what even is bad. So I had an appointment for today. The gyno was an older man, apparently. I assumed we'd just talk and he'd prescribe me something for my hormone issues, but also kept in mind he might do some poking around. And well yeah, he did... First off, he right away suggested some estrogen medication thing that he'd put up into my vagina and then I could leave it in there for 3 months. Something I could have done myself, but he *insisted* on helping this fair maiden with that difficult task... For some reason I agreed to that. Cause it seems I had forgotten my brain in the car. Happens sometimes. And then he gave me the hormone thing for free. I mean for the price of letting him look at and poke my genitals. Because that wasn't actually planned on for the appointment. Or at least I had not been told about it prior. He also wanted to check if my ovaries were still alive and working in there (cause of my low estrogen levels since quitting testosterone hrt) so I got a surprise vaginal ultrasound too! It felt a bit like he was just randomly shoving up stuff without much warning. And very eagerly. And suggesting STD tests "since you're already here" cause I mean why not...? He excitedly asked me if I have a boyfriend but seemed utterly disappointed when I said there's a girl I might get together with for sex relatively soon-ish maybe. Cause he seemed to need a reason for why I wanted to know exactly what type of HPV virus I'm dragging around with, so I said not wanting to transfer it over to a new partner. And cause it's only harmful for females, it felt important to mention her sex. But it was as if the light in his eyes went out when I mentioned that new partner would be another female. It was satisfying to disappoint him, I admit. Perhaps I just found the only straight man who doesn't get off to lesbian porn. Okay so that's the "fun" part about this atrocious appointment. Cause he also stroked my opening with his gloved hand for a moment to then tell me I was noticably sore there (cause of my vaginal atrophy, but that's a weird statement to make, considering literally only I can feel if I'm sore or not, regardless of body part) and that was... a bit creepy. Then afterwards while I was getting dressed he very fucking rudely, and definitely not necessarily, commented on the size of my clit. Duuuude. He asked me if it would reduce in size when I've been off testosterone longer. The damn nerve! I hate it when people (especially men) have the gall to just flat out assume there's something wrong with my clit just being bigger than average. It functions and looks just fine! It probably functions better than his dick! Perhaps he was jealous....... if so, dude has way worse problems than me and my “noticable” soreness. I pretty much just laughed it off but informed him that I'm not at all bothered by its size. Then he went onto comment on my voice being too deep and at that point I just kinda had enough. Oh he was creepy alright. But in very subtle ways. He clearly was way too fucking happy about poking at my genitals and drawing it out as much as professionally possible. The comments on my body, the literal aesthetics due to my detransition situation were way out of line. And it was also quite clear that he gave me that hormone thing for free because of... gratitude. That makes me shudder a bit now. Glad I didn't have to pay for it but... that was a gift. From my doctor. Because he got to shove it up my pussy. I don't know how to feel about that. I don’t even know how to practice bodily autonomy. That once reflex got suffocated by my traumas, I think. I'm not too good at speaking up or even noticing if things are sketchy in such situations until like 2 hours after. Cause it all seemed totally normal while in that room. Until my dumb brain starting working again in the car back home. Oh well, guess I survived that too. Wasn't that bad. Although it was quite mentally uncomfortable. That ultrasound rod and the way he used it on me without warning reminded me of my past traumatic sexual experiences with men, like he was fucking me with it, which made me wanna crawl out of my skin. Although it was just a slight reminder. Like a ghost resting her hand on my shoulder for a moment before leaving again. No more male gynos. I've officially had enough of them! Should I report this though? I'm kinda unsure.

#personal #gyno #male gyno #creep #im alright though #detransition #lesbian #but also weirded out by it #and a little triggered

[amethyst-noir]

Not "your" anon here but. What about something with us seeing Tony fall in love with Stephen first (so many fics make it the other way around with all the futures Stephen saw), being the one looking out for him and caring for him and respecting him and Stephen being clueless about it bc Tony flirts with everyone, bc Stephens not his usual type, bc he didn't think this timeline would have the chance to end up like some of the rare ones where they're together so he never even entertained the idea

I promised something for sunday, didn’t I? So, here it is.

TW for talk about dubious consent in sexual situations and planned suicide.

Tony piningafter Stephen? I can do that! It’s about time I tried the other way round. I’mpretty unsure about this one since got a lot darker than intended, but here weare. At least it has a happy ending! Every warning up there is for the past;they’re both in a much better place when this story takes place and an evenbetter one when it ends. ;) The title is, once again, sponsored by Enigma. (It’s cliché, yes, but it fits and I love it.)

The Gravity of Love

“Bye, Pep!” Tony smiledat Pepper and waved at her until the doors of the elevator had closed behindher. He turned around to his last remaining guest. “That went well, don’tyou think so?” The smile vanished and left behind a tired and exhaustedman who just wanted to fall into bed and forget everything for a few shorthours. He hated parties, even when they were his own and all the guests werefriends. “Stephen?” he asked when he didn’t get an answer.“You’re okay?”

“What? Sorry, I waselsewhere.” Stephen shook his head as if to clear it from unwantedthoughts and looked around. “Am I the last one? I should go, too.”

No, you shouldn’t. Stay here.I don’t want to be alone tonight. The words were there, had been revised forabout a hundred times, and he’d just have to say them. He wanted to reach outand touch Stephen, beg him to stay. He could stay up for a little while longerjust for the pleasure of his company. “Okay,” he said instead,resigned. “Do you want FRIDAY to let you out or will Sir travel viaportal?” He knew the answer but he got a smile which was all he’d wantedin the first place.

“Portal,” was theshort answer. Stephen seemed tired, too, and instant transport was heaven-sent.No that he’d ever come or gone any other way. A short good-bye, followed by theorange glow of magic, and Tony was left alone in an apartment that was far toobig for one person alone.

“Well, let’s dothis,” he whispered to himself. “FRIDAY? Please turn everything down.Wake me up at the usual time.”

“Yes, boss.Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He didn’t have a drop ofalcohol so it was pure exhaustion that made him stumble and crash into thedoorframe on his way to the bedroom.

*

“Yes, that would belovely. Call my assistant to make an appointment.” Tony’s skin crawled buthe was used to being nice and charming to people he just wanted to throw outthe nearest window. He gave the senator the sincerest fake-smile in hisrepertoire and fought to keep it on his face as the guy took his offered hand.If they weren’t in a public setting the man’s hands would be all over Tony andhe really didn’t know how he’d react to that. Not as well as in thepast, he feared. His tolerance for buying his favors this way had droppedsignificantly over the years and by now he preferred to make his deals becausethey were right, not because he threw a lot of money on someone or haddropped down to his knees for another kind of payment.

He was still busy trying todiscreetly wipe his hand on his trousers when Stephen came up to him. “Hada nice chat?” Stephen asked and looked at the departing senator who wasstill radiating an air of satisfaction. “He seems to be happy.”

If there had been even a traceof jealousy in the words the ordeal he’d just went through would have beenworth it. But so? “Yes, the best. We all got what we wanted. More orless.” The tired resignation was creeping in again and Tony fought againstit. The award ceremony had only just begun and he had a speech to make in aboutten minutes. He forced himself into an even straighter posture, hid his handsbehind his back and tried to project an air of confidence.

Stephen didn’t look a Tony, sohe’d missed the moment of weakness. He’d only seen the way Tony had moved intothe other man’s space, how he’d smiled and how he’d initiated the hand contact.Tony was friendly with almost everybody and it was hard to watch. One ofthe reasons why he’d chosen to stay on the sidelines. He didn’t want to bedragged further into Tony’s life and have to watch from even closer distancehow the man flirted with everybody who crossed his path, male or female alike.It would have been too easy to get jealous otherwise.

Tony went away to his speechand Stephen closed his eyes, desperately trying to push aside the memories of atimeline where he’d stood proudly besides him as the accepted his award.

*

“You okay, Stephen?”

“Yes, yes, I’mfine.” Stephen ignored the helping hand being offered to him and forced himselfto stand up unaided. All the while he looked over the battlefield to see wherehe could be of use. Over there! He’d portaled away to put the last of theblue-green monsters out of its misery.

Tony was only glad that theIron Man mask hid the flash of disappointment on his face. “Goodluck,” he whispered before he threw himself back into the fight.

*

Tony had known pretty muchfrom the start that it was futile. Stephen never acknowledged his overturesin any way but he still couldn’t stop. The fragile friendship that had startedin the ruins of Titan had not only survived the temporary death of one of thetwo parties, no, it had risen from the ashes and over time had become the real,solid thing.

Of course, Tony had tosabotage one of the few good and uncomplicated things in his life by falling inlove with his new friend but that was only to be expected. He tended to formattachments quickly and then, after a while, something happened and it allended in flames. Or a bunker in Siberia. One couldn’t be too picky. Only two ofhis friendships had really stood the test of time, the third one had fluctuatedbetween friendship and romance for years before Pepper and he finally realizedthat they worked better as friends than lovers. She was and would always be theonly woman he’d ever truly loved, but she was not the one.

But Doctor Stephen Strange?Became a friend, yes. Tony, predictably, fell in love with him, yes. Butnothing else happened. No big drama that broke them apart, no big revelationthat forced one or the other to confess their feelings. They just stayedfriends. Very good friends but nothing more.

It was what Stephen wanted,Tony told himself and tried to keep his hands to himself whenever he wanted toreach out and touch the other man. Besides, he didn’t even know if Stephenliked men that way. In that regard he was still as much of a mystery as on thefirst day. Maybe even more, because Tony swore that there’d been flirting whenthey first met.

Stephen had known form the momenthe came back from the dead. He’d opened his eyes and looked into the exhaustedbut happy face of one Tony Stark. “You did it,” he’d whispered inawe. Tony had just looked at him and helped him up. Further words weren’tnecessary. Then, Tony had gone away to go back to Peter and Stephen hadshivered, suddenly cold.

But only for a moment becauseTony was back a moment later and dragged him out of the shadows and into thelight to meet the rest of the Avengers.

Stephen had fallen in love inthat moment but Tony was engaged and while Stephen Strange was many things hewasn’t a homewrecker. He didn’t have time for a relationship anyway. He toldhimself the same story again and again when the engagement broke apart and hespent a few nights consoling a grieving Tony. Tony would find somebody else, hewas sure of that.

After a while he managed tobanish his longing into his subconscious and to mostly forget about it.

*

“I used to let guys fuckme just to get what I wanted.” The words dropped into the silence like abomb. “It was always for something. A business-deal, some patent I reallywanted to have, you name it, I’ve let them do me for it. That’s why I alwayswent after women when I had the choice.” The bomb left an even loudersilence behind.

“Tony,” Stephen said,helplessly, after an age had passed. After a moment of hesitation he reachedout and put his hand on Tony’s arm. His hand shook even more than usual. Tonydidn’t flinch, too high on painkillers after his shoulder surgery to care. Itwas Stephen who suddenly needed the contact. He didn’t know how to react, whatto do. Everything he could think of was just too trite and too much of a clichéto be of help. Nightmarish images danced through his imagination and so manythings suddenly clicked into place. He felt sick. He wanted to gather Tony inhis arms to protect him from the undeserving world he had so often protected atsuch a great cost. He wanted to whisper reassuring nothings into his ear, hewanted to be the exception. He wanted to run away and never come back. Was ittoo late to go back and choose another timeline?

Tony didn’t look at him buthis voice was strong and sure. “I don’t tell you that because I want yourpity. I just though you have a right to know. You know, considering the stuffthat was going around… I always knew what I was doing and I was never forced.”He grimaced. “Or at least I still won in the end, no matter what they didto me.”

The pictures, Stephenrealized. The goddamn pictures of a very young and very drunk Tony Stark, onhis knees, while the campaign manager of some long-gone politician held hishead in place, that had surfaced a couple of months ago and almost causedTwitter to crash. Tony had gone on record, gave a very convincing show of itbeing a harmless one-night stand, and the topic had vanished relatively quicklyfrom the media. The other guy had long since died, the photographer too, and Tonyhadn’t tried to hide. It had been old news in record time. Thanks to FRIDAY theevidence had pretty much completely vanished from the web and a man who refusedto be ashamed wasn’t that interesting.

Stephen hadn’t forgotten butwondered. “You don’t have to tell my anything,” he finally said.

“I know. I just wantedyou to know. Pepper, Rhodey and Happy know, too. It’s only fair.”

“So now I’m officiallypart of the family?” Despite everything Stephen had to smile. Heappreciated the immense trust placed into him and vowed to be worthy of it.

“Stephen, you’ve beenpart of my family for a long time now. It’s only right that you’ll know about thecorpses in the bedroom, too.” Tony fell asleep before Stephen could reactto that bombshell.

*

It went on like this. Yearspassed, their friendship was cemented in blood, magic and iron, battles werefought and lost, triumphs were shared.

Tony wanted and stayed silentwhile Stephen managed to suppress every bit of carnal desire he may have feltand channeled everything into his magic.

They weren’t in that kind oftimeline he’d concluded at long time ago.

Too bad that he’d never toldTony that.

*

The next time it was Stephenwho was high on painkillers and couldn’t control what came out of his mouth.

“I gave myself threeyears,” he said. His voice was deep, raspy and barley there. No wonder,some extradimensional thing with too many tentacles had tried to choke himbefore slamming him into the nearest building. The Cloak saved him from theworst but he’d still cracked some of his vertebrae. Wong had him immobilized bymagic while a healing spell worked it’s wonders but it couldn’t do anythingagainst the pain. It fell to western medicine to supply relief in the meantime andto Tony to apply it after careful instruction through Christine who checked inevery few hours. The medication unfortunately meant that Stephen couldn’tescape into his astral form and had to suffer through everything while beingimprisoned in this body. It was a waiting game and Tony was determined to sitthrough it until the end.

“Three years forwhat?”

Stephen’s eyes were open, sohe was still awake, but he was staring into some other world were Tony couldnot follow. Come back, he wanted to beg. I’m here, I’m waiting foryou.

“For me to find some wayto get my hands working again.” The spell impeded him from raising them.It was pure instinct that made Tony reach for the nearest one and hold it. Itwas the left, the more painful, almost always bandaged, one. He hoped thatStephen could feel the light touch through the haze of medication but if so hedidn’t react to it.

“And after that?”Tony didn’t want to hear the answer, feared that he already knew it.

Stephen ignored him andcontinued to stare into eternity. “I should have died in that car. I knewit back then, had no idea what was still waiting for me. I gave myself threeyears to get back where I was before. If I didn’t manage that I promised myselfto finish the job that the accident started.”

“Stephen, don’t,” hebegged but was ignored.

“I had everything plannedout. I had even managed to save enough of my painkillers to finish me off. Itwas hard, back then I was pretty much addicted to them, but I’ve always beenstubborn.” The ghost of a smile. “That’s always been myproblem.”

“Why are you telling methis now?”

“Today is the tenthanniversary of me finding my way to Kamar-Taj. Two weeks before the deadlinewas over.” Tony swallowed. Two weeks and he would never have met thisamazing man. “I’ve brought the pills with me, of course.” Stephenwasn’t finished. “I decided to try this mystic magic something and then goquietly in to that good night. The night didn’t want me.”

“I’m glad itdidn’t.” Tony didn’t know what else to say. He had tears in his eyes andhis throat felt constricted as if he was the one being strangled. He looked atStephen’s bruised throat and had to fight back a new wave of tears. I loveyou. He still wasn’t strong enoughto say the words and hear nothing back.

“I’ve tried dying afterbecoming a Master of the Mystic Arts but you know how that worked out. Death stilldidn’t want me. At least not permanently.”

What the fuck?!“Stephen, what’s going on? Don’t tell me you’re dying on me and this is yourdeathbed confession!”

“No. I just wanted you toknow.” He finally looked at Tony. “About one of my corpses. After tenyears it’s about time. And this is the first time in seven years that I can’tfeel the pain. I’m not allowed to forget about it.”

After Stephen lost his fightagainst the meds and finally fell asleep Tony cried. For Stephen, forhimself, for them. About how fucking unfair life was.

*

“Don’t leave me.”This time it was Stephen who had tears in his eyes, begging an unmercifuluniverse for another, a last chance. Kneeling in the dirt of another world,again, trying to stop Tony from bleeding to death with shaking hands and thelast shreds of his magic. “I love you.” The admission came easilyover his lips, finally. “I have for a long time.”

He didn’t get an answer butTony smiled at him and Stephen could finally see the truth. They’d been in oneof those few timelines all along and he’d been too stupid and blind to see it.

There had to be a way. He’dchosen the timeline where Tony lived, after all. Stephen closed his eyes andsearched for the last remnants of his power. I will save you.

*

Twelve years. They’d selectedthe date on purpose. The twelfth anniversary of the accident that shattered hishands and almost cost him his life; nine years after the moment he’d planned todie at, Doctor Stephen Strange stood on sheltered terrace of the SanctumSanctorum. Behind him the Cloak of Levitation escorted the last of their guestsoff the premises before it came back to watch over them. Stephen stood behindthe man he’d sworn six hours ago to love, honor and protect for the rest of hislife and held him in a lose embrace. “I love you.” He’d said thewords a thousand times in the last year, as if to make up for all the yearsthey’d lost to mutual stubbornness and Stephen’s unwillingness to just look atwhat was right in front of him.

Tony, older, wiser and stillso incredible beautiful that it hurt, turned around and rested his head onStephen’s shoulder. “I know.” He kissed Stephen, slow and gentle,familiar by now. “I love you, too. Tell me again.”

Stephen did.

=/\=

#ironstrange #tony stark x stephen strange #tony stark #stephen strange #amy writes #promptfill #inbox #Anonymous

[jaggedheartstrings]

Spread Your Wings (and leave me behind) || Chapter 8

Read On AO3: HERE (chapter 1)

Word count: 2k

Summary:

Natasha Antonia Stark was a thriving scientist in the 1940's. Alongside her brother, Howard, they build a whole world of technology and science for themselves.

Up until a fatal night in 1947.

She was announced dead in 1949.

* * *

Toni wasn’t going anywhere with him as long as she had anything to do about it.

“I was hoping to do this the easier way, but the best ones do put up the best fight at first, don’t they?”

It was the last thing she remembered before darkness overtook her.

-

Chapter 8: Part 1.5 - Reprogram My Will

June 18th, 2003, Formosa, Argentina

The therapist at the local trauma center had told it was good to write down stuff. For coping with everything or to help remember. The center was kind of a homeless shelter too. She wasn’t exactly homeless, but she wouldn’t have been able to afford a therapist. The trauma center therapist was a lovely Japanese lady. Her dark hair was always pinned up in extravagant styles, not one the same as the last one. She always had her square glasses on and ready to go.

While she was a therapist who never got payed, her attitude was never indifferent or mean. Ms. Saito was always warm, inviting and that played a huge part in why she visited her over and over again. One of the few friends she had made had suggested to visit the center, once they noticed how difficult it was for her to interact with people or remember anything about herself.

Antonia sold little inventions and fixed people’s electronics. What she asked barely allowed her to survive, let alone build more. But the people on the outskirts of Formosa weren’t that wealthy. She didn’t need extra money. If she couldn’t pay rent or her next meal, the people always graciously offered to help her. It was a close-knit community that helped everyone.

“An!” Turning at the voice of her friend, Alicia, Antonia gave her a big and real smile. She’d learned that smiling at people when you were in a good mood, would put them in a good mood and they might like you more if you don’t glare them to their early grave. Or so Alicia had said.

“Hey,” she greeted the panting blue haired woman. The pastel blue color of Alicia’s hair complimented her darkened skin much better than it should’ve. “How are you?”

“How am I? I am fucking wonderful, thanks for asking. You will not believe what I just saw.” Antoine’s smile was much more real at her friend’s enthusiastic voice.

“Yeah?” she hummed as she returned to the journal she kept close by, in case she’d need to write stuff down. The page was filled with things under her own name, and a few other names on the page next to it.

“Okay, so. The guy at the hot dog stand, remember him?” Antonia glanced up from the page toward her awaiting friend. The girl was literally vibrating with excitement. The headache building in her head was enough to make her irritated by Alicia’s antics. She loved the woman to death, but sometimes she drove her up five stories.

“Yeah, the red head, right? The one you’ve been crushing on for, oh I don’t know, six months, but have never actually talked to?” Antonia snickered when the blue haired girl whacked her on the shoulder. “Oh, come on, Ms. I-pine-on-people-I-don’t-dare-to-talk-to.”

“I will shove you out of the window, don’t test me,” Antonia couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable threat. She was like a kitten trying to fight a lion. They both knew that the brunette would have the shorter girl on her face in seconds. “Anyway! He saw me stalking him and naturally I knew this was my moment. SOOO, I went up to him and was like, ‘hey man, wanna catch a cup of coffee sometimes’. I heard that’s an adult thing to do, so I was like okay let’s try it.”

“You’ve never even drank coffee, you heathen.” Antonia shoved Alicia away as she tried to catch a look of her notebook. The brunette slammed the notebook closed, storing it in her locked cabinet.

“C’mon, you never let me see what you write!” Alicia whined and she threw a look towards the woman who was acting like a three-year-old despite her 28 years of age. It wasn’t new.

“There’s a reason for that. If I told you what was in there, you wouldn’t know what to do with the information. My past is not all rainbows and sunshine.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve told me like nine million times already.” Alicia scratched behind her ear, “I know you don’t remember anything ‘cuz you had something horrible happen to you- this is why I need you to tell me, so you don’t make that pissed off face when I talk about it insensitively!” She waved at Antonia’s face with her hand. Sure enough, the brunette was scowling at her friend.

“I don’t tell you, because I don’t want to lose you,” she pointed out.

“But some horrid tale of your past won’t make me run away,” Alicia argued against her.

With a deep sigh the brunette informed her, “I’m not worried you’ll run away.” That made the blue haired girl snap her mouth shut and get an understanding look in her eyes. Her father had worked for the CIA and it’d costed her mother’s life. He did get out of the business after that, but it was a bit late to fix anything. “So, what did the cute hot dog guy say?”

Alicia’s eyes brightened as she explained the rest of the first encounter they had had.

Later that evening Antonia returned to her apartment. The whole building was falling apart, and she was quite sure they’d be tearing it apart soon. Which would leave her homeless. Maybe she could room with Alicia. She wouldn’t mind the company and rent would be easier for the both of them.

She stepped inside the lobby and greeted Harold. He was a cleaner/host who held the place up. A long time ago the man had invested money into this building and pursued his dream. But then the people had basically abandoned this part of the town and he was left to the bares. The apartment complex had 16 apartments, but only nine were occupied- Harold included. Antonia was quite sure half of them were druggies. Wouldn’t have been surprising around these corners.

Harold’s frail and weak smile almost broke her heart. He was already in his late sixties, he shouldn’t have been doing so much around the complex. His hands were shaking, mostly due to his never treated addictions. Now he had thankfully enough smarts in his head to not go inject himself. Plus, his grandchildren were quite often around the complex helping their grandfather. Harold’s wife had died a long time ago due to cancer.

Antonia’s apartment was onto second floor, right above the lobby. It was quiet, well until the druggies would start a party. Her keychain held three keys, the keys to her apartment, her workplace and her bike’s lock. Not that a lock would do much around here. A single fluffy ball was hanging from the keys. She’d taken a liking to soft and fluffy things, which was no surprise considering what she had gone through.

The apartment was a lost cause on pretty much everything, though she had tried her best in patching it up. The hallway that opened up right after the door was quite empty, if you excluded the small rug and shoe holder. She couldn’t afford much, most of the stuff in her apartment was used or passed down from friends. She didn’t mind it at all. She enjoyed fixing things and finding out how they worked.

The light that flooded the entry way was dimmed and yellowish. She’d have to fix the circuits again. It was the third time this month alone. The frustrated sigh she let out made her rip her shoes off and hang her purse quite aggressively. As she was about to step into the kitchen, the light almost unnoticeable breathing caused her to halt. Someone was here.

She immediately reached in her pocket for the knife she always had on standby. Her left hand reached for the light switch and as soon as she made out a form, the knife was flying through the air. The figure- a man most likely- leaned out of the way at the very last second. The knife attached itself to the wooden wall behind him.

The man lifted his head at her, eyes glinting curiously. “Hello child,” The Russian accent made her skin crawl and the snarl that left her mouth was downright menacing.

“Who the fuck are you?” She spat out, her hands clenching and unclenching in fists. The man smirked, his expressionless and cold grey eyes watching her every move. “Who are you?” she demanded even louder this time.

“I guess you could call me an old friend,” the words sending a shiver down her spine. “But you’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you? Making decisions and relationships all on your own accord.” He moved and she moved towards the kitchen isle where a block of knives was situated at. The tsk noise made her flinch. “I wouldn’t do that. I’d hate to use more painful methods, wouldn’t you?”

The questioning tone was enough to send her through a loop. “I ain’t coming with you anywhere. You might’ve missed it, but I’m done.”

“It’s like you truly believe you have a choice.” At the widened eyes and menacing tone, she was sent back to a time where everything was much worse. To the first time this happened. When the first word hit her, she gasped at the pain, “предложение.” (tender)

“Ah, stop.” She rasped out.

“журнал.” (journal) An image of steel blue eyes flashed, and she fell to her knees.

“шесть.” (six)

Everything left like it was slipping away. Like someone else was taking control and pushing her to the back of her head, unable to affect anything.

Ash. Evening. Nineteen. Reign. Order. Fire.

He continued until only one word was left. After a second of silence he whispered the last breaking word, “криво.” (awry)

The breathing of the figure on its knees evened slowly out, and it lifted its head eyes emotionless and focused on the wall. “Товарищ?” The question solidifying its presence.

“я готов ответить.” (Ready to comply/I am ready to answer.)

 * * *

 The Winter Flower sat at the Chair. Held together by the straps, the scientists and doctors around it were preparing to do something. It didn’t know, it wouldn’t ask. Weapons didn’t have questions.

Its new handler was rubbing his chin while watching it. He was contemplating on something. His empty eyes were almost unfocused due to the intensity of his stare. He wasn’t actually looking at her, but instead was lost inside his head.

“We are ready,” one of the scientists announced and just like that his attention was back in the present. He walked down from the raised platform towards it. Stopping in front of it, he ran his fingers across its jaw.

“God, after this you’ll be perfect. Absolutely and utterly perfect.” His eyes flashed and the grin he gave it was filled with sharp teeth, “I’m sure you’ll remember that little thing you were working on back in 1995. It’s finally completely finished. That Hansen chick got it finally to stabilize after fifteen tries. You were great help, my dear.” His tone would’ve almost been loving, if it wasn’t filled with disgust.

He walked back up, turning towards the doctor. He’d watched the interaction curiously. “Inject her. Three days is far too long, we need her to be ready and we needed it yesterday,” the man hissed at him. He scrambled away, barking orders in Russian. The Winter Flower wasn’t listening. The hazed daze it was in was going to cause problems if its handler would find out. He’d already made it shoot itself in the leg twice. If it weren’t bandaged soon, it’d bleed out. It wouldn’t dare to inform this to the handler. He knew what’d happen upon shooting yourself in the leg, but he didn’t seem to care.

The sudden burning pain that entered its body caused it to scream out in agony. It felt like it was burned alive. The tears that slipped from its eyes despite its best efforts seemed to please the handler.

Its body was rebuilding itself.

Burning a deep fire through all her limbs, focusing on the bullet wounds as they closed after liquid metal flowed out. “Incredible,” the man whispered out. “Truly remarkable.”

The doctors and scientists seemed to abscond from the room, until only one doctor and the man remained.

And it burned for what seemed like years.

#mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel 3490 #earth 3490 #tony stark #female tony stark #winter soldier tony stark #hydra tony stark #iron man #winteriron #Winter Soldier #buckytony #bucky barnes #james barnes #hydra #steve rogers #captain america #black widow #natasha stark #natasha romanoff #clint barton #hawkeye #extremis!tony

[ac-ars]

high for this

i dont even have anything to say for my defense

also i wanna thank chica de cielos for handling my complaining when i was writing t h i s

have fun

Luna Valente doesn’t expect much fun when she gets accepted to the University of Oxford, but it’s the only way to stay away from her controlling aunt. She doesn’t expect also Matteo Balsano, who is the most helpful out of everyone there. Is he really as perfect as it seems though?

previous chapters here

🌙

4/ trust me girl, you wanna be high for this 

Her alarm snooze sounds for maybe a fourth time this morning. Luna had decided Saturday will be studying day; she has some test next week and it would be nice to know anything this time. She keeps wondering why she decided to study something that forces her to take chemistry and physics as majors, but hopefully they will take her head away from all cloudy thoughts and buzzes in her stomach.

She made out with Matteo less than twelve hours ago and she feels like she needs more than the small amount of sleep she got herself, but also her sleep sucked anyway. Luna didn’t manage falling asleep properly; she kept waking up and rolling around her warm bed, constantly thinking about this one very special boy. Her body was shaking softly with excitement, every nerve has been curling and uncurling nervously, and in general Luna hasn’t decided yet whether this feeling is great or if it sucks.

Eventually, she reaches for her phone, to turn off the damn alarm sound. It used to be one of her favorite songs, but since the day it was set as the waking up music, Luna couldn’t do anything except genuinely despising it.

She sits up, pulling the blanket all over her shoulders to keep at least a little warm, and yawns loudly, blinking because her eyes aren’t really used to darkness of early morning yet. The screen of the phone is definitely too bright, so Luna lets out small growl turning the brightness as much off as possible. Only then she can see anything, and her notification bar is full, putting another wave of buzz all over her body. There is some insta notification, few texts on group chat with the girls, mail from near bookstore and new youtube video from buzzfeed. No messages from Matteo has her disappointed; they shared few messages after she got back to her dorm so it’s not like he was supposed to leave something for her to smile after waking up, but it would still be better than nothing.

Still, she sends him quick ‘morning’ and locks her phone, throwing it on the pillow again. Apparently she gets up too quickly, because her eyes go black and she needs to support herself on the head of the bed. Her feet aren’t really happy to touch the cold floor, but that’s just karma for being so giddy last night and forgetting to put on the socks. Weather forecast isn’t really nice and Luna still hasn’t bought all wintery stuff. She noted in her head that she should tell Ambar or the girls to go with her, even if she knows she will surely forget.

🌙

The brunette leaves shower in actually better mood, wearing fluffy robe and just as fluffy slippers. The heating is put on max and that’s decent time for Luna to have herself breakfast. She sets on the water for the tea, and opens the fridge to wonder what to eat when someone knocks to the door.

Luna huffs, wondering who can be here without saying anything before and at this cold, early hour of eight in the morning. She goes slowly to open the door and stares at her guest with one eye closed.

“What are you doing here?” That’s all she can let out, despite it sounding undeniably rude.

He smiles. “Well, it’s very nice to see you too, Luna.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to hide the blush but her wet hair is in loose, messy bun so no way for that. Matteo sighs and kisses her cheek quickly as he passes her the warm cup.

“Coffee?” The brunette asks, already planning how she could put all said coffee to the sink and replace it with some tea.

Yet, he only sends her a smile. “Nah, this time hot chocolate. I already had my coffee and guessed you would be more up for something sweet.”

Luna raises her eyebrows surprised but takes one of the cups from his hand and closes the door as he is already inside her dorm.

“Thank you very much, but really what's the reason you are here so early?”

His eyes slide lazily down her body, making her feel like she is wearing nothing and that's not really the safest feeling to have around Matteo Balsano. Small smile forms on his mouth and he eventually is back with his eyes to her face. “I was going to class nearby and just wanted to see you,” he says almost matter of factly with a shrug.

Luna isn't sure if it was a good idea; now she definitely is gonna be a mess, now remembering his kiss from last night and the fact that she will probably keep it only for herself.

“So, are you gonna dress up or this robe is that comfy?” Matteo asks and Luna rolls her eyes, blushing slightly. “Leave me and my robe alone, if you don't like something you can not look.”

He hums, pushing one of untidy strands of her hair behind her ear. “I don't want to not look at you, I wouldn't deny myself this kind of pleasure.”

Luna kinda dies inside, but tries to keep it cool and just nod and drink her chocolate. Her red cheeks surely betray how she feels inside, at least a little. There is something very warm in that wrong way, the one that she didn’t really want to feel around him until last night and yet here she is, wanting to crawl out of her skin to get as close to him as possible. Matteo smiles smug at that as if he could read her mind. “Anyway, how was your sleep?”

She shrugs tiny, licking her lips after she takes the cup away. “It was nice, I talked to my mom before sleep. How was yours?”

Small something appears in his eyes, but just for a second and then he is all himself again. “It was quite decent,” he just says and starts putting tea boxes in some order so it looks definitely neater than after Luna left it last night. He is humming some song, probably fully aware of her watching him carefully. He is wearing those black jeans and Luna has her weak moment, again remembering why she has issues whenever she sees a boy with long legs. She is sure it's cold and yet he doesn't have any hat on his head, and that's the image thing she would never be able to pull; she always picks being comfy and warm over making sure her hairstyle stays in place.

“So,” she starts very not casual. “When do you have the class?”

He looks up at her with small smile. “In like thirty minutes.”

“Well, so I think it's time for you to go, Matteo.” Luna hums and he walks up to her. “If you are kicking me out, then I will go.” His voice is light, very much hinting the tease hidden behind these words and the brunette shakes her head.

“It's not me having double major studies if I remember correctly,” she says slowly and starts playing with the collar of his shirt, not sure why the fuck is she doing that; he hasn't done anything indicating that something changed in their relation since last night's kiss and that's probably her seeking for some kind of proof that maybe it did. Or him stating that it didn't, it would be still better than not knowing.

Boys are confusing.

He just smiles, again, he keeps smiling, but each of his smiles means a different thing. “You are very right here, caring about my attendance. I will get going. I hope you have nice morning, sweet thing. Let me know if you have any fun plans.”

He winks, kisses her forehead twice without pulling away his lips from her skin, and with that he is gone.

She better goes and gets dressed.

🌙

The thing about studying with your friends in some coffee shop, is that you all pick some coffee shop of your liking, then just get to the table and order something to drink as you take out the notes or laptop with the presentation.

In Luna’s case it’s almost the same, with one tiny exception. She can’t focus at all. She is reading the same page for the fifth time and still gets nothing. Like, absolutely nothing and it’s all because she has no idea whether she should tell her friends about Matteo or not.

She used to tell them everything before; they know each other few long weeks already and they literally talk about every single thing, which sometimes grosses Luna a little. Still, she isn’t sure if she should mention this very important piece of information, but this piece of information seems so weird in her head, not to even try to say it out loud.

The girls won’t suspect anything anyway, because they are busy with their own stuff, yet Luna is just trying to imagine what their reactions would be. Jim would most likely just huff and growl; she still needs some time to accept that Luna is willing to hang out with a boy who steal her drink and made them all go home. Yam wouldn’t do much except throwing shook gasps at her, at them all and wiggle her eyebrows annoyingly whenever Matteo would appear around them, while Nina would just silently judge her or something. Or maybe she would be chill and nice, and happy for her friend to be happy.

Is she happy though? She isn’t sure, and she doesn’t plan on trying to dig that hole deeper than it already is.

The book finally manages to be interesting, and Luna actually is focused, she is reading one paragraph, then the second and third, and she turns the page, proud of herself.

“Luna! You haven’t updated us recently!” one of the girls says, a little too loud for the coffee shop filled with people, and few people send them confused stares.

“What?” Valente answers, slightly confused and Jim rolls her eyes. “What’s up with you and Balsano?”

Blush that creeps way up to her cheeks surely betrays something, but no one really asks and she just sends a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the same as yesterday, though the last time me and you talked, you hated his guts, Jimena.”

“Oh, it was in the past. I grew up.” Literally every person by the table rolls their eyes and the ginger friend of theirs pouts. “I really did.”

“You didn’t,” Yam says and Luna needs to stop her snort.

Jim flips her hair and starts braiding it, because it started getting into her eyes. “You may all be mean, I don’t care. I just want to know how’s Matteo with Luna. Maybe if someone tells him that he should bring her a drink instead of stealing her vodka shots he will learn. Plus he is too hot to be mad at him long.”

Luna blinks surprised, this is the most ridiculous shit she has ever heard Jim saying, and she has heard much, much of weird stuff.

“Well,” she shrugs. “You can be the one who enlightens him, I am not sure if he is willing to study anything except physics or some music connected things.”

Yam bites on her muffin and sighs heavily. “I’m sure he would be thrilled to learn some anatomy with you.”

Nina chokes on her coffee so much that her glasses almost fall off the bridge of her nose and she has to support them. Jim giggles and high fives her bestie and Luna just wants to go home.

She came here to study and yet here she is, being the protagonist of her friends’ kinky jokes. The day sounds dazzling.

“We should change the topic,” Nina says quietly, “I remember you girls talked about some party before when Luna went to order our stuff.”

Luna nods to herself, because that sounds like a safe thing to talk about, Jim and Yam always love to get some idea to drink, and dance, and definitely flirt with the boys.

“Actually yes! There is one on this Saturday, but we don’t have invitation.”

“Does any party really need an invitation these days?” The brunette asks with raised eyebrows and her ginger friend sighs sadly. “Yes. Or that’s what we overheard the other day from the conversation of Ramiro, the curly guy who is buddy buddy with Balsano, and some girl. You can’t just get there.”

She turns to Nina who shakes her head as well. “So if we can’t go then why are we talking about that?”

“Because you can totally get us in.” Yam grins saying it as if it was obvious, and Luna almost feels silly for not understanding the hidden meaning. “I can’t make someone invite you to their party if they don’t know you. Plus going somewhere without knowing anyone and the host is dumb and even you aren’t that dumb.”

Jim hums and kicks her foot lightly. “Talk to Matteo. He will be there probably and it will help us.”

Luna rolls her eyes. “He never talked to me about that, this is his personal life and I am not getting into that, because you are bored and decided to get more acquaintances in uni.”

Nina sends her encouraging smile and nods, which makes her feel a little better.

“You don’t really care that he will go there, and drink, and meet some drunk people as well?” The blonde asks, mixing her coffee with the spoon. “You know, drunk girls, and stuff.”

She isn’t looking directly at Luna, but they all know what she is doing right now, trying to manipulate Luna into this shit, but she is better than this and she won’t break even if the tight knot in her stomach makes drinking tea very difficult. She should chill and ignore this, not think about that since Matteo is his own person, he doesn’t need to be watched out and followed like a child in case he does something bad.

“I’m not doing anything. If he decided to not tell me about it, it’s his business and I can’t mix into his private life, girls.”

Heavy sighs from both sides reach Luna’s ears, but at least it means she won the battle. If they knew about the kiss from last night they would never let her get out of this situation. Her phone buzzes softly and there are two texts from Matteo, one ten minutes after the first.

Matteo Hope we can hang out today ?

She bites on the inside of her cheek, not sure if the question mark was to remind her that he exists and needs attention, but despite all promises she has made and will make, the promises she never really promised, yet simply decided she wouldn’t be putting herself on a silver plate for him, are really not in her head right now.

Me yeah what time?

🌙

She hasn't expected that he would actually still want to hang out after she told him she wasn't going to move out of her place anymore today. It was cold enough and when she and the girls left the coffee shop, it started raining, and she didn't have any umbrella or a hood to cover herself. She decided it was enough for her and that's why she is now sitting on the couch in big sweater, wrapped up in a blanket and drinking hot chocolate, while Matteo Balsano is comfortably seated right next to her.

He hasn't texted anyone or talked on the phone since the moment he entered her dorm, but also he hasn't done more than kissing her cheek hi and this has Luna lowkey disappointed. Though, it's all probably because her brain keeps having high hopes for literally everything.

His arm is around her shoulders as he seems very focused on the movie they ended up choosing. Luna isn't able to think clearly having him so close and having his scent in her lungs with every breath is like breathing in nail polish scent that makes her dizzy after being around it too much. The only difference is that he actually smells good and Luna is already addicted to this cologne of his.

It’s a nice and soft afternoon, she doesn't need to think about every word she says in case Matteo will use it against her like her friends would do. She kinda missed the moment when he pulled her to his side, but he is warm and feels safe, so she softly allowed herself to lean against his shoulder. It's not like he wouldn't do that if he didn't want to have her close, right?

He even got her food and snacks, and that has her so, very biased, because as soon as someone brings her any kind of food she is sold, and being sold to Matteo doesn't seem like a bad thing, even if it lowkey feels dangerous for her sanity. His eyes slide quickly over the English subs he put on and he doesn't seem to be throwing any any sneaky glances towards her, she knows because she's been very obviously staring at him and he apparently hasn't noticed it yet. He would tease the hell out of her and Luna would die, but she just can't take her eyes off his face, so steady and calm just like the sea after sunset, already hiding something dark and mysterious.

She sighs softly eventually turning her face to the laptop, deciding to chill and act like a normal person finally, not like a psycho weirdo.

“Are you enjoying the movie?” He asks quietly with a hum and playing with the ends of her hair. Luna blinks turning again to him. “What?”

“I just see you are having fun, being all focused on the screen so I decided to ask you.” He turns to her with a smirk and she wonders how bad would it be to push him off the couch in this very moment.

“I think, Matteo, that you should focus on it yourself, instead of watching me with the corner of your eye.”

He chuckles softly, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger. “Touché, Luna Valente.”

She just shrugs and wants to move away, but he doesn’t really let her. He pulls her closer instead and kisses top of her head. “I was just messing around, you need to relax sometimes. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something anyway.”

Luna straightens her spine and sits a little up, so she isn’t melted in his arms as he says it. Thousand thoughts runs through her brain, tons of them hopeful for all kinds offers from him to all bad things that could have ever happened and it’s the weirdest thing ever.

“What is it?” she only asks.

Matteo looks back at the screen and sighs a little, leaving Luna wondering if he will look her in the eye or not, but eventually his face is back close to hears, his eyes a little serious yet playful. “There is this guy in my physics group who lives nearby and his parents are out of the town for weekend, because of the work.” Something passes in his eyes, and Luna doesn’t miss this, though she doesn’t touch the topic fully knowing that it’s not the reason why he is talking to her.

“And Ramiro made him organize a party, so I’ve been wondering if you would wanna go with me.”

He is smiling a little, leaning his head against the back of the couch and Luna has no idea what to say. To be honest, she likes him and be around him, but on totally different conditions, when they can chill together somewhere where no one will stare at her and talk, because he is himself and she is lucky that he is giving her his attention.

“I don’t think I should go, Matteo,” she says with a shrug and his eyebrows go up. “And why is that?”

Luna doesn’t feel like she needs to excuse herself, but apparently this boy over here isn’t used to hear no as an answer to anything. “Because I won’t feel comfortable enough there.”

“Come on, you’re never uncomfy.”

“I am, very much and you just never notice it.” She pouts tiny and he boops her nose. “I really think you are life of the party and you would do amazing. Plus I wouldn’t leave you alone for a second so you don’t have to worry about being left and awks.”

The brunette sighs and bites on her lower lip, not sure why he cares so much about bringing her there. She is probably taking it very childishly, but he hasn’t promised that he wouldn’t go away from her to hit on something else, and she plans on not making him do so.

“I want the girls to be there as well.”

He sighs heavily with his eyes looking at the ceiling and she can say it’s a weird offer so she continues. “I mean it’s not that I don’t believe you, I just would feel better that there is someone there I know, plus they would be together so it’s not like they would make drama I’m ditching them for you.” She hopes it makes sense or at least sounds convincing. Her eyes don’t leave his face until he clears his throat, saying just one word. “Fine.”

Luna grins and kisses his cheek a little awkward. “Well then I will go.”

🌙

It’s not that she doesn’t like parties, or people, or alcohol, but it still makes Luna feel very ridiculous and uneven, and the heels she put on didn’t make her any taller actually. Being so tiny can be a curse, especially when people always tease her and lean down while talking to her. Hopefully those creeps who know Matteo will let her go.

Jim pulls her by the hand inside, since they came here together and her ginger friend made sure Luna doesn’t “get lost” on their way, just lacing their fingers and no matter what kind of touch is that, for Luna touch is always reassuring and it’s the support she needs in this situation. Even if she doesn’t really want Matteo or anyone see her holding hand with Jim, no offense to her friend of course.

First thing that hits her as soon as they enter, Yam following them both alone since Nina very surely denied the offer, (leaving them all not-that-surprised), is loud music and basically no light. It’s so dark Luna needs to look under her feet in case she steps on something and trips, especially when those heels are high and she isn’t the most graceful person on the Earth.

The people they pass by are strangers and Luna is sure she sees them all for the first or second time, but in general she doesn’t know anyone personally. Yet, if she did, she probably wouldn’t recognize one human here with the surroundings being too distracting. The hazy chatters, bumping into someone again and again while pulling her friends behind, the music is getting even louder, making Luna’s skin tingle and her thoughts completely messy. The house itself seems to be prepared for the party as much as it’s possible; any vases or breakable things are hidden or out of the sight, everything from the center from the big living room is moved to the side so part of the guests can dance or support the walls while talking to others.

Yam pokes them both at the same time. “We should look for the bathroom and the kitchen now, so we don’t have to search for them later.”

“OMG, yes! First kitchen, though, because I’m hungry.” Jim jumps excited. Luna is kinda tired of her friends using the OMG, but they learned it from their English buddies, so she lets them live with it.

“Already?” Luna frowns, but nods in agreement, since she is forever in need of food and the ginger haired girl pulls them both in some direction as the brunette is definitely not trying to find Matteo in the small crowd formed in the living room.

🌙

The kitchen, as it ended up, is placed nearby. They had to just cross another hallway and open the door to get in. There is another ton of the food on the counters, right after the table in other room. The girls came kinda late, but there is still pizza waiting in few boxes, and Luna is the first one to appear near and take a slice. Jim and Yam do the same while Luna checks on her phone in case Matteo sent her a text, but he hasn’t, he hasn’t texted her or called, or posted on his story anything recently except his laptop with Netflix logo on the screen. If he doesn’t appear here today, she swears she is going to kill him as soon as her eyes reach him, and then herself.

Or she will just take her friends after they have free pizza dinner here, and go to some club just enjoying her girls-only time, and forget Matteo Balsano and her dramatic ass.

That is why she shouldn’t have drunk the few shots Jim made her drink to “chill” before leaving the dorm.

At some point in the middle of taking another bite someone pats her shoulder and she turns around almost smashing the pizza in the person’s dark shirt, because they are too close.

Here she is, out of all possible ways to meet him today, she ended up with mouthful of pizza and lips probably stained with tomato sauce.

“There you are, sweet thing. I see you are enjoying the party already,” he says, smiling as if she wasn’t messiest thing existing. He leans and kisses her cheek before passing her a napkin and taking his arm around her shoulders.

The girls stare at him and he looks at them without changing his face. “Jimena, Yamila, I hope you have fun today and I’m afraid I will have to steal Luna from you.”

Mentioned Luna rolls her eyes at the full names and stealing thing, since she is the one to decide with who she wants to spend the party. Even if she wants to hang out with Matteo, still it’s her choice.

He pulls her closer to his side, yet still casually and the girls just nod, smiling, and Jim raises her eyebrows. “Well, we hope you two have fun too, but please don’t babysit Luna today, because if you will, you will need a babysitter.”

Yam snorts and Luna gasps, Matteo seems surprised a little as well, but he sends her friend a wink. “There is nothing you need to worry about, really.”

“Okay girls, remember to not go alone anywhere, promise me that,” Luna warns them with serious eyes and both of her friends just nod before turning away and leaving with another slices of pizza.

Matteo turns to her with happy grin, as if he got extra toy on Christmas, the one he never found while searching around house. “I almost thought you wouldn’t appear, but at the same time I knew those two would drag you here even if you went back to Mexico.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiling as well, she likes simple being around him and just talking, and his teasing, and when he is looking at her with those funny, excited sparks in his eyes. She might like him a little bit too much.

“Do you really think I would miss an opportunity of getting free food?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and he laughs, reaching to push one loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Why is your hair up, though?”

Luna shrugs. “I don’t know, I was in a mood I guess. Why?”

Matteo takes his fingers to the back of her head and releases her hair from the hairband. She immediately feels soft tickles on her shoulders and shivers. “Why would you do that?” she asks, but softly, without any drama in her voice surprisingly.

“I don’t know. I like your hair down more i think.”

She smiles. “You do?”

He nods and leans closer, having her almost breathless. “Yeah, and I very like your skirt.”

🌙

Luna has really no idea how much has she drunk yet, but it’s definitely much more than she should. Her head is spinning lightly, yet Matteo is holding his hand on her waist steadily all the time, which she appreciates. She doesn’t really see Jim or Yam since they left her alone with Balsano, and she is sure they are having fun or drinking until they throw up, or both.

Matteo introduced her to some people, though they haven’t stayed with anyone longer, because as he said, he didn’t want them to weird her out and ask too many questions since it's a party, fun for her, and not an interview. This makes sense enough in her head for Luna not to push, it's not like she wanted to meet all of his friends at once. She got to meet Ramiro, Matteo's good friend, or so it looks like, and few girls there keeps watching her with angry eyes. Each time Luna feels uncomfortable enough that she went to get a drink, and here she is now probably too drunk for her own good.

Yet, she still lets herself drag Matteo to dance, even if he sends her amused glance, but she doesn't stop and as long as he doesn't stop her either, it's okay.

Matteo is giving her this weird feeling, this idea of actual freedom that she doesn't have to follow what everyone tells her. She does what she wants, wears what she wants and she isn't sure if she feels like this because of all alcohol she has drunk so far, if it's because of Matteo being so close to her and keeping his hands on her body, while they are dancing slowly in between so many people, or if it's simply her relaxing finally after all those months. She likes it anyway.

She likes swaying lazily pressed to his chest with her arms loose around his neck. He is so, so close she can’t think straight, but she would never anyway especially when his hands are on her lower back, his thumbs sneaked their way under her a bit cropped tshirt. The song is quick and loud, people are jumping and hitting her with elbows, and sometimes pushing her a little. Luna can't care now, she is just focused on those two brown eyes, so warm and soft while he is mouthing her song lyrics and honestly it's the most perfect moment in the world even if she probably looks like mess with her curled hair. His tiny, annoying smile is almost enticing, asking her to go further, to take more, to feel more and feel less at the same time, she loves it and lets it all consume her in this very moment.

It’s the first time he is having her so close in public, around other people and she likes it so much, that he isn’t awkward, or pulling away, or pretending she is just a friend. Though, at the same time he is not kissing her yet, and she thinks that he should have already done that, not once.

He leans closer but turns towards her ear and his breathing on her neck makes her tingle. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks and traces the skin behind her ear with his nose, taking deep breath and Luna wonders if it’s still possible to move.

“Yeah, it’s very nice,” she says clearing her throat, because her voice comes out shaky and raspy. Matteo smiles at her and nods, but she continues. “Are you having fun with me, though?”

He raises his eyebrows just so slightly and hums. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You probably had always had other things to do than spending whole party with one person.”

Matteo bites on his lower lip, making her want to do the same. “What if I like to do so? You are fun, Luna Valente.”

“I’m not sure what is your definition of fun, but that’s definitely not me,” she murmurs while playing with the collar of his shirt. He sends her almost annoying look before sliding his hand from her arm up to her nape and pressing her lips lazily to his finally.

It’s a slow, effortless kiss, but also a hungry and needy one. She can taste the alcohol drink he had before, it’s a bitter taste, yet now she doesn’t care, she just wants him closer and more. They stop in one place, closer to the wall than to the center of the room though, and her fingers tangle in his already messy hair. He tenses for a second, probably having the reflex of taking her hands away from his head, but she kisses him more urgently and he focuses on claiming her mouth as his once again.

The music is somehow dimmed and hazy now, as if her brain couldn’t take more things into her senses and process them, and Luna can only agree that Matteo kissing her is such an overwhelming thing, and she wants to kiss him forever.

His tongue is playing with hers almost teasingly, gliding across her lower lip or backing out for her to decide what she wants now, and she appreciates that. The hand he had placed on her nape to keep her close relaxes now a little, letting it fall a little before he takes it to her waist, under the tshirt she is wearing as the kiss becomes harder. His lips are more expecting and more wanting, he grips on her as if she was the one good thing in the world, or at least that’s what her dramatic, burned mind is saying. She wouldn’t really trust herself though, not when she is in a place like this, with him and doing what she is doing.

Matteo pushes her a little backwards and she is sure that she will step on someone’s foot or other body part, but she meets only cold wall and he is everywhere now. It’s almost too much how lost she is, how she can’t breathe and when he bites on her lower lip, the last drops of her conscience make her stop him and push away for a few inches.

He stares at her with dark, very confused and messy eyes, his breathing is short and shallow, his cheeks are actually red as never before and he looks absolutely breathtaking.

“Everything’s fine?” he asks with a quiet, raspy voice and if she wasn’t so close, she wouldn’t have heard it because of the music being loud again.

She nods tiny and clears her throat, wondering how bad she has to look if he is such a mess now. “I don’t think this is a good place to do something like that.” Matteo opens his mouth softly, but she places her hand on his chest. “And tonight it’s not a good night to do anything more.”

He smiles with this small troublemaker smirk. “I wouldn’t have suggested anything like that, sweet thing.” Luna rolls her eyes, but smiles trying to regain her steady heartbeat. “I think that I need a drink.”

🌙

She doesn’t really care what she will drink, she just wants to cool down her body, and when Matteo asks her if it’s supposed to be alcohol free or not, she just shrugs. “Whatever, as long as it’s cold.”

He laughs and takes some bottle from the fridge and opens it, first taking a sip from it, not really caring to use the glass. The still awake “safety” part of Luna’s brain appreciates this reassurance that nothing suspicious is there, so she takes the bottle and drinks a little.

It tastes bitter, but just a little since it’s probably been sitting in the fridge for a long while, something in her head dims, and that was apparently more than she could have drunk for one night, because everything goes blank.

#soy luna #lutteo #hft #my writing

[bandomgay]

My brain to yours pt.1 b.u

Tw: blood,gore,self harm,violence,hallucinations,slight mention of an ed

Au: hey babes this is gonna be my 5th time trying to post this and i want death so bad...however if there is any confusing things or typos or things seem to quickly paced im sorry thats just my brain babey! Enjoy...i guess

Word count: 1,894

It all started when he was about 6 years old, he never spoke ever,not that he couldn't he just wouldn't, his parents were worried about his development,however nothing was ‘wrong', he had a quite developed thinking process for a child, but it wasn't a good one for his age nor was it a normal one,no child should be so terrified of talking to people and being thought lesser of as his voice shook violently while trying to say the easiest of sentences.

he understood people to early into his young life ,he got the memo that everything was too stupid and too hard to understand so he gave up . his mother took him back and forth to hospitals and child psychologists ,his mother scared for what was to come of him could this weirdness she didn't even have a name or diagnosis for develop into something more as he grew? She thought, would he be normal? Would he be like the other children who laughed and giggled at the littlest of things? Would he be happy like them? She had decided to push her concerns into the back of head deciding that maybe he was just awkward it's okay to not fit in hes a fucking 6 year old boy maybe it's not that deep.

he was now in the 3rd grade now and teachers became more and more loud and responsive with their problems, he thought maybe whatever bad stuff they had going on at home they just needed to vent threw aggressiveness and shaking hands and restless mornings,but however it was their screams he didn't care for, he looked them in the eye wondering what he had done wrong, however he didn't care enough to continually think about it, but he realized slowly that couldn't feel anything like the red faced teacher did, he’d envy the poor mannered teachers feelings if he could, just how they could get so angry and fed up with kids who were disgusting and vile and how he never felt that…... he never felt anything at all .Now he was in the 5th grade he had to repeat the 4th grade due to staggeringly low grades and his failed attempts at homework he never seemed to have remembered. Things were getting hard to remember, so hard to remember what the teacher had said in the classroom that seemed to fade away after he was picked up by his mom and the sheer silence of the drive home and his mothers sneaking looks into the mirror with furrowed eyebrows at her son who never told her how his day went.

In school it was just so easy just to drift off in the land of dark swirls and dark worlds filled with make believe that he couldn't separate from the real world that never seemed to go away and darkness he felt comfort in his head till he heard nothing but the disgusting laugh of a teacher who had looked as if she wanted to deck him in the face ( he imagined about 3 different scenarios of how that actually could have occured, he held back a giggle and a sly smirk) as she snapped her wrinkled hands in his face “earth to brendon” he heard the aged feminine voice laced with anger repeat twice but he had failed to tune into the first reminder he was too dissociated to notice, he came too but didn't understand her reasonings of not just leaving him alone and let him rot and break free and he soon heard the fits of laughter coming from children he knew he was too weak to stop.

he wanted to do terrible things to everyone in that very room including himself, a dark desire he couldn't contain from his mind but he never followed through with these type of thoughts. he could never seemed control them he thought of them like messages being sent from an unknown source in the back of his head that had an invisible connection to someone he could see but nobody else could he dared himself if he could just pull at the cord in his head he wouldn't have those those thoughts, the figure never showed up in the same form it could be the shadows of dirty rain water coming from outside showing like a projection on the dingy beat up wall rising above him to claim a mental dominance , or the rotten stain of mold on the bathroom floor that now seemed to have a charming glow yet secretive smile or the bag of dirty clothes that sat high up on its rounded edges now smiled at him and watched him threw the night .

now it was the 7th grade and things had went to shit,it was already shit but it had gotten no better, fits of depression had left him wanting to call a hitman on himself and letting himself be cut open so all the organs in his body to be shot out of him or rip his jaw and everything behind it out of his body but he was too fatigued to think about it anymore his brain seemed to have stopped working back in the 6th grade, he could never think clearly a heavy fog on his brain he could never do much for himself he found the most simple of things he couldn't do, he couldn't pay attention, he felt dizzy at random times becoming feverish and not thinking about why because he couldn't think he thought process lessen and lessened with every passing day until all there were was thoughts of gore and death,sadness and the never ending thought of killing anyone or anything that had managed to make him want death even more.

he just continued to fade in and out of reality staring into the wall for to long or unknowingly staring at the couple of people who he thought was calling him pathetic and worthless with the contradictory voice telling him he's so much better than the disgusting people he saw and that they didn't deserve to smile they don't deserve happiness even though they’d never even spoken a word to him, they were never mean to him. he started pinching,stabbing,pulling at his hair,clawing at himself hard trying to see if he could care that he'd just hurt himself he continued to hurt himself hoping somewhere in the back of his mind he start to feel things, to show him he's real everyone sees him, but his inner self knew what he was doing he wasn't just trying to see if he was a real person he was punishing himself because he couldn't do what the rest of the real kids could do he couldnt plop himeself in a hard metal chair and take a test without thinking about what a disgusting person he was, without hearing them say he wasn't shit that his brain is mush that he couldn't understand the easy directions how he could get so angry and mad without hesitation how he could imagine killing his parents im cold blood… he stomped on his own foot,why is he thinking about this why is he thinking about this why, they creeped back up on him showing him images of his brother and sisters dead and gutted his parents choking on blood and vomit pale and dying, he hated himself for thinking these things,but if it was possible for him to be completely honest with himself he didn't care if they had died or not he just didn't have the ability to care.

He couldn't look people in the face without seeing these images of grewling faces pushed together in piles of pink and red flesh crawling into each others organs which looked rotten and distorted, why was he seeing this things these disgusting things these things… he wouldn't admit to himself that everytime he looked in the mirror he tried not to vomit he tried to hard, he bashed in the mirror bloodlying his hand, his hiss echoing in the empty bathroom he couldn't go to the nurse he couldn't look her in the eye and see her like that, besides he was on the first floor and he was too weak to go all the way to the fourth floor he knew he would pass out, he felt something pooling in his stomach it was anxiety he felt the cramping in his stomach and the salivating in his dry mouth, he vomited into the sink, he hasn't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so the pain of dry heaving for almost half in hour into the sink made him dizzy and ultimately pass out. he had now awoken to bright lights that made him nauseous and whimper, he was in the hospital again. he tried so hard not look the nurses and doctors in the eye and seeing horrific images in his mind of them dead, rotten maggot filled and bloody be he regained his ability to see the normally after a while.

“Brendon honey…” his mommy's voice was there “mommy...hi mommy” he said in a broken whisper. She had realized he never calls her mommy unless something's wrong he wasn't aware that he was, he turned to the right finding an iv carefully placed into in scarily pale arm “honey...they found you in the bathroom your hand was cut up...you where passed out what...t?” she silenced herself for a moment seconds later starting up again. “They found you in the bathroom..the mirror was broken and your hand was cut pretty deep and passed out” he mouth trembled a bit, she moved his sweaty bangs out of his forehead, he felt wetness on his skin his own uniform shirt clinging to his skin he was sweating.

He didn't feel real he didn't respond properly to what she had said he only looked away.. And said “dizzy….everything hurts…” he was so surprised he felt something but if feeling was like this he didn't want it. “I d..don't wanna feel like this..can you make it stop mommy please?!” Nani was absolutely terrified she'd never been so scared for her little boy, “its gonna be okay,sweetie...i swear..to god i swear…” in this moment if she was honest she didn't believe there was a god, no god would do this to her son, she turned around after hearing the door and hard footsteps.

“Hello ms. Urie im dr. Yakima, i will be assisting and diagnosing your son” she nodded softly wanting her son to be okay. “Hey son,open your eyes for me,i'm here to help” brendon heard a much more distorted version of what the doctor had said than nani did, but then again he was fading in and out. He handed her pills and said firmly “these are anti-nausea and pain killers i'm gonna give these to him and he will feel much much better i promise..” He was right it with his cocked up eyebrow and charming smile that sparkled with calmness and reassurance that worked its way into nani. the medication  worked but not instantly. “Sit up honey..” She said softly, he followed what she said slowly with a wrecked groan and intense muscle pain however there was no rush.

#brendon urie #panic! at the disco #patd #*****mine #brendon urie imagine