#I can’t reply or look at their blog so I’m guessing they immediately blocked me after sending it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

growup-thatbeautiful · 2 years

Text

Read the other parts here!

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, foster care, alcohol, language. lmk if i missed any!!

Taglist: @timmyslover @fayhar @username23345 @natashalovers @tasteslikeicedcoffee @hoeforwandanat @angie-1746 @steveharringtonisadisasterdotcom @whore4nat @romanoffswrld @marrymemcgrath @pawiiee-blog @sapphosclosefriend @fabgronsky @tastingcevans @kawaiitoga @xxsekhmet @natblackwidow2 @silver-lotus @simpforflorencepugh1 @imnotslouching @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @wildnightadventures @m4ddie3 @natflough04 @losethetimewqr @rebel-author-chick

A/N: (please read) so……it’s been a while. yeah. i promise i didn’t completely forget about you lovely people. i had a concussion and couldn’t write on my computer, not to mention lacking any mental capacity at all. but i’m back!

yall asked for natasha to go off on the dad, and i am at your will. also backstory that i somehow connected to Black Widow

The Proposal Part Four

“That was a shitty movie,” concludes Natasha.

“The shittist,” you agree. Laying your cheek against the pillow.

“That’s not a word.” Natasha turns over to face you, laughter on her face.

“Wanna know something?” Maybe you’re a little drunk on her laugh. Or her smile. Or the way she read every name in the credits. You try to contain the utter joy behind your smile, worried that you’ll scare her away, but it’s pointless. Either way, she could read it in your eyes.

“Sure,” she replies easily, rolling over as well. You’re both sprawled across the bed, blankets kicked off the side, laying backward with your feet against the wooden headboard.

“I’ve seen it fifteen times,” you admit, rolling

around in a fit of giggles. For no reason at all, that cracks Natasha up too. She laughs and makes you laugh harder, an endless cycle that makes your ribs hurt.

“You spent over 20 hours watching that fucking movie,” Natasha gasps in between her teeth, eyes screwed tightly shut.

“Proudly,” you say, perhaps a bit loudly. You know it doesn’t matter. No one will hear you. Your mom expertly put you in the most secluded part of the house. She probably thought there were more adult activities happening than watching a movie and laughing off the bed. “And I would watch it a thousand more times if it meant I got to see you laugh for once. Maybe then it would seem less like Darth Vader laughing.”

“Asshole,” she breathes with no malice at all.

“Demon,’ you reply quickly.

“You had that one waiting for me, didn’t you?” You can’t disagree. It’s so refreshing to be able to have a normal, human conversation with her and not fear for your job. Or your life. You’re not sure which one is worse.

“Okay, so what’s the movie you’ve seen as many times as I’ve seen this. And don’t say some pretentiously deep movie like Gone with the Wind. I’m only interested in the shitty stuff.”

Natasha rolls over onto her stomach and thinks. “Probably Pretty Woman. I saw Julia Roberts in it and just immediately fell in love like a totally normal teenage girl.”

“Who didn’t?” you ask. “I’m pretty sure that's like a law of physics or something.”

“I really hope you’re serious about that,” deadpans Natasha.

“Dead serious. Vivian Ward could take over the world with a single smile.” Your eye catches the corner of the bedside table, where a digital clock is sitting. The numbers read 2:47 in bright red block letters. “Fuck, I did not mean to stay up this late. Knowing my mom there’s going to be a pretty early wake-up call.”

“So I guess we should try to get some sleep sometime soon, then,” Natasha relents, looking over at you. Some part of you wants to say no and stay like this with her forever, but you know it has to end before you do or say something you might regret. Something that has anything to do with those eyes of hers.

“Yeah,” you agree. The two of you settle into silence, you taking the armchair in the corner of the room and her sleeping in the bed. You can hear her tossing around, presumably as restless as you are.

“Tell me about your family,” you ask softly.

“Oh, come on. You know they’re going to ask about it. I need to know more than the fact that you have a sister of undisclosed age, a relative and mother figure named Melina, and a dicey dad.”

“That seems like plenty to me.”

“Natasha, please-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Natasha snaps. “Leave it be.”

“Fine. Spill my fucking heart out to you earlier and you won’t tell me shit. A normal, healthy relationship.” You know the words are harsh. But you can’t keep giving so much of yourself away and expecting her to do nothing.

“Don’t blame me for your choice to spill all your secrets because dad made you upset,” she mocks. You don’t take her words with the venom you hear behind them. She doesn’t mean it. You couldn’t stand it if she actually meant it.

“Maybe it’s better if we don’t talk,” she says in a clipped voice. A few days ago you would’ve agreed. But now, after all the drama and chaos that you’ve been through, you can’t leave it at that. So, after a few minutes, you decide to speak up. You don’t even know if she’s awake, but you like to think that she at least has the decency to feel bad about the way you left things just now.

“I saw your tattoo,” you admit. “It was on your upper back. A yellow bird and some sort of audio file thingy, Maybe it was a drunken night's decision or something you thought about your whole life. But whatever it is, it was worth it.”

“Thanks,” she eventually replies. “It’s for my sister Yelena. We used to have a whistle we would do for each other when someone got too far away and the yellow bird was supposed to…represent that I guess. We met in foster care and I took care of her there. Then, we both got placed with Melina and Alexi, and everything felt like it was going to be okay. I was eleven at the time, and Yelena ws six. We moved away from Russia and to Ohio, of all places for Melina’s job. Melina was the epitome of a perfect mother. She was strong and kind and never let us believe we weren’t those things too. Alexi fit the role a little less. He had a rough past, got in with the wrong people sometimes, but he tried his best. I remember he used to sing this terrible song about pirates and mermaids to us at night before bed. But it just wasn’t meant to last, apparently. Alexi got into even more trouble with even worse people, and Melina got involved too. Probably because she loved him. We, Lena and I, couldn’t stay there anymore. They took us away on a plane in the middle of the night. I tried to stay with Yelena, hold her close and never let go, but we got separated. They didn’t think anyone would take us in if we had both come from such unwanted backgrounds.”

“I thought about her all the time. How I would go back for her when I turned eighteen. But in the end, I ran away when I was sixteen and never looked back. I came to America and didn’t see her for fifteen more years. I told myself that it was because she wouldn’t want to see me, or that I was too busy setting myself so far ahead that I could bring her back and make her proud of me.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” It’s a lame reaction to her spilling her trauma, but you don’t have anything else to offer her. What do you even say to something like that?

“It’s fine. Or, at least it is now. A few years ago I got a letter from someone named Yelena Belova. I didn't let myself hope that it was my Yelena. We changed names so much back then. I left everything and went to the address it said, which was, rather inconveniently, in Russia.”

“Was she happy to see you?” You roll over and lay on your back, closing your eyes and imagining a younger Natasha, so determined to get her sister back but so scared to find out what happened to her. You have trouble getting the images out of your head.

Natasha laughs. “She was so mad. She said that she hadn’t meant for me to go all the way to Russia for her, and that she really just wanted to get a letter, or maybe a text. So we fought like real sisters do. I said some terrible things to her. She eventually forgave me for those terrible things and didn’t hold it against me too much that I didn’t come back.”

“Sounds like it was a successful trip.”

“It hasn’t even gotten interesting yet,” assures Natasha. You can’t see her, but you’ve never heard her become so animated talking about something. Not even work, which you thought was all she cared about. “Lena and I went down a rabbit hole of morbid curiosity to try and find Alexi.”

“Why?” you blurt. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for family reunions, but he did so much shit to you. Shit you definitely didn’t deserve.”

“Honestly? As I got older I realized that he honestly didn’t know any better. For him, it was a way of life, like my way of life is work. And I didn’t feel like it was my place to judge him when I knew so little about what was actually going on. He was still my only dad, even if he sucked at it, which only took twelve years of therapy to accept.” You’re still unconvinced, but Natasha takes your silence as an opportunity to continue.

“We found Alexi in an hour. He’s never been good at keeping a low profile,” muses Natasha. “He was less than thrilled to see us. I actually don’t think he knew who we were, but he was exactly the same as I remembered him, except this time I could tell that he was drunk and not just trying to be funny. I wanted to leave him at the bar and call it a night, but Yelena’s always been my better half. She talked me into taking him home and letting him sleep it off, which turned out to be one of her best decisions yet. That and getting a motorcycle.”

“When he woke up sober he realized that we were those little girls he fucked over. He thought we were there to exact some sort of revenge on him, to even history out and he was scared shitless. I never thought it would be so rewarding to watch a six-foot grown man beg my five-seven sister not to kill him. Not that she was helping the situation. She has a nasty glare and dresses to kill.” Natasha trails off, seeming to forget what she was talking about.

“When Alexi woke up?”

“Oh, right. When we finally explained to him that we just wanted to see how he was, he completely changed. Started spewing how much he loved us and missed us and how bad he felt about the past. He asked Yelena if she kept going with gymnastics because she had been so into it in Ohio, and she deadpanned that they didn’t really let you do much tumbling in foster care where she was for the next 15 years until she got out. True shame really showed itself in Aleix’s face then.”

“For the first time, he was sincere. It was crushing to see someone so strong break like that, all because of us, when we assumed he never even cared. He told us that we were the still the strongest girls in the world, something he told us when we were young. Simply for parallels sake, we drank with him and talked about our live before separation. Turns out he had a lot more to lose than I thought.”

“Just like that?” you ask, quietly so you don’t get in the way of an obviously fond and painful memory.

“Just like that,” she confirms. “I thought that was the best it could get. Three out of four isn’t so bad when you think about all the obstacles in our way. Surprisingly, though, Alexi proved me wrong. Hold on to your seat, because this is where shit gets even better.”

“Oh, good. I’ll get the tissues.”

“Turns out, Melina and Alexi kept in contact all those years. After Yelena and I were taken away they didn’t want to see each other anymore. Too many painful memories. So, he called her up and she didn’t answer. She actually left him a pretty nasty voicemail afterwards. But love prevails, as they say, and we showed up on her doorstep, a family back together again.”

“Your life is a fucking movie, Natasha. Jesus.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Que the emotional family dinner with confessions of familial love and a teary goodbye back to New York. Which led to an immediate trip to the tattoo parlor after a facetime with Yelena. And after seeing Alexi’s sentimental tattoo of his daughters next to a tattoo of a pig.

“You got matching tattoos?”

“Yep,” says Natasha, popping the ‘p.’

“What’s hers?”

“The same as mine, but her bird is red. You know, like my hair.”

“Yes, I made that connection.” You don’t think Natasha has anything else to say. You know you definitely don’t. It feels like everything has been put out on the table, left in the open. There’s no upper hand or mind games, just two people trying to figure out a strange situation, and maybe get to know each other a little bit more along the way.

Selfishly, you hope you get to know her a lot more. Because underneath the hostility and immaculate suits, there’s a pretty good woman.

“Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight.”

You wake up to pain in your neck from sleeping in a chair. Unfortunately, it’s something you've grown used to. There are a lot of nights spent at booked hotels that just happened to forget you booked two rooms. The sound of knocking at the door and Natasha whispering your name angrily snaps you out of your thoughts.

“We made you breakfast!” calls your mom, knocking harder at the door.

“One second!” Natasha yells back, motioning for you to join her on the bed. “Hurry up, or I swear to God-”

“I’m coming, Jesus. You have no patience.”

“My patience wore out after whispering your name 20 times. Get your ass over here.” You begrudgingly do as she says and bunch the blanket you were sleeping with behind the chair. Once you’re satisfied that the evidence is gone, you join her on the bed.

shoving you further away and effectively pushing you off the bed. You land with a thump on your ass, glaring at Natasha and muttering expletives under your breath.

“I can hear you,” Natasha hisses, grabbing you and hauling you back up and arranging you into a position that looks like you woke up together.

You clear your throat and say to the door, “Come in.”

The door flies open and your mom comes bustling in, carrying a tray full of food, which she places on your lap. Following behind her is your dad, who has his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I’m just dropping this off. I wouldn’t want to ruin a morning routine of you lovebirds,” chirps your mom, opening the blinds. “And your father has some things he would like to say before we leave. Well, before he leaves. I’m going now.” With that, she brushes past your dad and out the door, shutting in quietly behind her.

“Natasha, do you think you could give us some space?” asks you dad, void of emotion. Inwardly, you sigh, positive that there’s no way this ends well.

“Whatever you want to say in front of her, you can say in front of me,” defends Natasha. You tell yourself that you’re imagining her holding onto you tighter.

He looks at you and you nod your head. “Fine. I suppose I owe it to the both of you.”

“To the both of you, I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. It was unwelcoming, cruel, and completely without justification. And, furthermore…” he trails off, looking at you in a way he hasn’t since you were young. Without judgment.

“I need to apologize for a lot of things. I never wanted you to have a hard life, but it seems like I'm trying to do that, I'm the one who made your life hard. I’ve caused you unacceptable pain and suffering that no father should ever cause. I know there’s no excuse for my behavior, and there’s no taking back the past words I’ve said. But I truly am proud of you and simply want you to be happy. If she’s who makes you happy, then I welcome her into our family.

“You really think you can just apologize and make up for all the shitty things you’ve done? Like one fucking apology makes up for years of mistreatment?” demands Natasha immediately.

“Tasha,” you say quietly. “It’s fine, leave it be.” She turns to you, an incredulous look on her face.

“Why are you letting him get away with this?”

“Because he’s trying. And there’s nothing he can do or say that can fix the past, so why not try and make the future a little bit better.”

“I don’t have any excuse for my past. If I could change it I would do so in a heartbeat. However, that’s beyond my power. I can only give apologies and be better now. I swear to the both of you that you will get nothing but support from me.”

Natasha says nothing and continues to glare. You roll you eyes and smile at your father. “Thanks, dad. You should know that this means the world to me. It’s never too late to look back and want to change. Also, I think Mom would barge in from where she’s listening at the door and come to your rescue if I don’t hug you right now.”

“Fuck off,” calls your mom from the door.

“Called it,” you say. You Dad nods solemnly back at you and awkwardly stands there.

“Dad, is there something else?”

“We want you to have your wedding here. And this weekend. Here this weekend.” You open your mouth to try and come up with an excuse, but find nothing. Luckily, Natasha seems to have an idea.

“We wouldn’t want to impose on Grammy’s big day. It’s not everyday you turn…the age she’s turning.” Perfect. There’s no way your family would want to upstage the oldest member’s birthday.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffs Grammy, who’s apparently also listening at the door. “I don’t need anymore birthday parties. I do need to see you get married. It’s settled.”

“But we don’t have dresses or any wedding stuff,” you protest.

“I have a wedding dress,” offers Grammy.

“So do I,” says your mom.

“I guess we’re getting married this weekend, then.” You look at Natasha, panic evident in your eyes. She looks similarly at you.

“Perfect. I’ll leave you to it then.” You dad turns on his heel and practically runs out of the room.

“You’ll have to forgive him. He’s not used to talking about his feelings,” says your mom, poking her head in and shutting the door. You and Natasha move to get dressed, putting the food on the end of the bed.

“Oh my god. My moms going to fall apart when she realizes that this is fake.”

“She's not going to find out, so don’t worry about it,” breezes Natasha, throwing on some leggings.

“If she does it’ll be the end of me. My Gram is going to have a fucking heart attack and my mom will never speak to me ever again. Then she’ll have more to be angry at my dad and that’s never good for the birth of them. And-“

“I’m going to cut you off,” interjects Natasha. “You’re overreacting. None of that is going to happen. You’re thinking way too much about this. I know it’s your family and the fact that you’ve found happiness makes them beyond happy for you, and that means that when you tell them that divorcing your historically devilish wife they won’t be devastated with you .”

“There’s a possibility that you might be correct. Just a small possibility, though. I give it a 12% chance.”

“I think I deserve a little more credit, but whatever.” The two of you settle back together on the bed facing towards each other and sitting cross-legged. You start eating the food your mom made in silence.

“I met your Ex,” blurts out Natasha, looking at you.

“Wanda?” you ask, suddenly a lot less interested in the food in front of you.

“Yeah. Red hair, right?” You nod slowly.

“She seems really sweet. She was concerned about you and your dad. Like, really concerned. I shouldn’t be worried about that right? No high school trauma you need to tell me?“

“Nope. My father was pretty much the same until this morning. Family was always important to Wanda, and she was always rooting for his better side to shine through.”

“Why did you break up? It seems like she would be great for you.” Natasha is seemingly unbothered by the conversation.

“She wanted to stay here. I had to get away. It didn’t really work out, and neither of us thought we would do good long distance. It’s a tale as old as hating to talk on the phone.”

“That’s surprisingly mature.”

“What do you mean? I’m a very mature person,” you say with a face full of cinnamon rolls.

“Yeah, I can tell. It’s blatantly obvious.”

“Fuck off.” You pause, an idea coming to your head. “We might as well make use of the time we have. Got any of those questions on the packet you want to be answered?” you ask, reaching for it on the bedside table. All you get in reply is a glare.

“Come on, honey. Humor me.”

“Fine. Give me that.” Natasha takes the paper from your hand and scans the list.

“Morning person or nighttime person?”

“Nighttime. It seems like I can do more things at night because everyone else is asleep. Which one are you?”

“Neither. I’m aware at all times of everything around me.” You prove her point by trying to flick her in the nose. She easily dodges and glares at you in a familiar way. “First of all, fuck you. Secondly, it’s your turn to choose a question.”

“Mountain or beach vacation? And don’t be a downer and say no vacation. I’m gonna stop that before it happens this time.”

“Mountain. They remind me of home and aren’t completely sweltering hot all the time.” To anyone else you would ask why she can’t just go into the water, but not Natasha. By now you know how deep her fear of the water is, if she won’t even go on a beach.

“Me too. Especially if it snows and I have a cup of tea and a good book.”

“Basic nerd,” she accuses. “Also a disgusting person who likes tea.”

“How dare you. You don’t like tea?”

“Not at all. They never had any good tea or filtered water at the foster care and I never got over the taste of weak, slimy tea from when I was younger.”

“Thanks, now all I’ll think about when I drink tea is that description. Cool.”

“You’re welcome. Favorite art style?”

“Post impressionism. Least favorite is fauvism.”

“A woman after my own tastes. Speaking of which, I need a new phone.”

“That has nothing to do with what we were talking about.”

Somehow I forgot mine was eaten by a hawk yesterday with all the…familial commotion,” defends Natasha, getting out of the bed and walking over to her suitcase, as if to show you the lack of cell phone inside.

“What the fuck?”

“You know, with the dad drama and secret daughter-in-law getaway.”

“No, I wasn’t-“ you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “Natasha. You’re a very smart woman. Why would I be confused about family shit when you said your phone was eaten by a fucking hawk.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t know. It was trying to get the rat and then I held the rat and it took my phone.”

“Dog,” you correct absentmindedly. “And I don’t think hawks just take phones like that.”

“They do,” she says solemnly, stealing one of your fries. “I have first-hand experience.”

“Right. So I’m going to get you a new phone and take a walk. I’ll see you at the tailors? I'll send you the address if you don’t want to ride with my mom and Grammy. See you later.”

“See you in a minute,” Natasha replies, braiding her hair.

#natasha romanoff fan fiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fic #mcu natasha #black widow fanfiction #black widow fic #black widow x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #the proposal #nat romanova #nat romanoff #natasha romanoff

227 notes · View notes

pars-ley · 3 years

Note

hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?"

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab."

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics.

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is.

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?”

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm.

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands.

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented."

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this?

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there.

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds.

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave.

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking.

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside.

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze.

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?"

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building.

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No."

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

"Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline.

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before.

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is.

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie."

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?"

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after.

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks.

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade.

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice.

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

541 notes · View notes

sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2101

Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst

A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.

Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.

9:36

Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.

Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.

(917) 460-5480 work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow

He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.

Definitely a wrong number.

He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.

Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.

He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.

A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.

(917) 460-5480 sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners

Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.

(917) 460-5480 timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now

He quickly typed out a reply:

(917) 308-3117 I think you sent this to me by mistake.

Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.

(917) 460-5480 haha very funny sis

Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.

(917) 308-3117 I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.

He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.

The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.

(917) 460-5480 how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???

(917)460-5480 will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???

(917) 460-5480 am i still your maid of honor???

Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.

(917) 308-3117 Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.

An almost immediate reply came through.

(917) 460-5480 prove it

Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.

(917) 308-3117 How?

A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.

(917) 460-5480 selfie

Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.

Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.

He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?

What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.

She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.

True to form, another text rang through.

(917) 460-5480 i will keep texting until i see your manly face

One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.

He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.

Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?

He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.

(917) 460-5480 im waiting

Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.

Click!

He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.

The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.

His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.

He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.

(917) 460-5480 is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??

Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.

(917) 308-3117 You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.

He quickly added to the message thread:

(917) 308-3117 Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?

The response was swift.

(917) 460-5480 oh shit ur not my sister

(917) 460-5480 this isnt 9173083447?

Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.

(917) 308-3117 Unfortunately for you-- no.

(917) 460-5480 ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said

(917) 308-3117 Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.

(917) 460-5480 oh god now i feel like a bigger ass

Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.

(917) 308-3117 Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.

(917) 460-5480 me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??

Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.

(917) 308-3117 I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.

(917) 460-5480 training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.

(917) 308-3117 Something like that.

(917) 460-5480 so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??

He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?

Another text came through from the mystery woman:

(917) 460-5480 not that i mind u have a luscious mouth

Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.

(917) 308-3117 How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?

(917) 460-5480 doll?? what r u my grandpa??

He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.

(917) 460-5480 enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party

(917) 308-3117 Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.

He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.

(917) 460-5480 aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁

(917) 308-3117 No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.

The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.

(917) 460-5480 thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me

(917) 460-5480 timmons may be the boss but i run that office

He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?

Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.

He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.

(917) 460-5480 did i scare you away??

(917) 308-3117 No. Just thinking about tomorrow.

(917) 460-5480 shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest

He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.

(917) 308-3117 Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.

(917) 460-5480 such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho

(917) 308-3117 I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.

(917) 460-5480 alright ill shoot a text ttfn

(917) 308-3117 ttfn?

(917) 460-5480 ta ta for now god u r a grandpa

(917) 308-3117 Yeah, yeah

Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.

Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

195 notes · View notes

shoichee · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

#ask #narnvaeron #knb #knb scenarios #kuroko no basket #imayoshi shouichi #imayoshi shoichi #imayoshi x reader #imayoshi #knb fic #knb fluff #100 followers #100 follower milestone

212 notes · View notes

mentalisttraceur · 3 years

Text

Getting blocked doesn't come up very often for me. The instances I'm aware of I could count on one hand. (Minus the one repeat offender who blocked me like 4-5 times over a few years. Who might still be reading my blog. 👋)

So I guess I'm still figuring out exactly how I want to react to people who block me, and processing all my automatic reactions to it, because I haven't had enough experiences with it to really explore this. Especially not as I am right now, after having accepted and explored and integrated all that I once disallowed in my mind because it seemed too selfish or whatever.

Of course, I already know what the mature and ethical reaction is - basically just think of it as a crude but understandable move driven by genuine hurt or need, because of either misunderstanding of me by them or substantial incompatibility between us. Be patient with such people, and as an act of proactive kindness try to avoid interacting with them as much as possible, even when I do not have any ethical obligation to. But be clear about enforcing the boundary in the opposite direction - your personal interaction preferences are not above all else, they can be wrong, and don't you dare think they let you keep me out of spaces that you do not own or matters that concern anyone besides just you.

But ethics aside, what do I personally want? Well, lately I'm feeling particularly unforgiving about blocks which

I see as unjustified, and

which in any way inconvenience me.

Like maybe the people whose blocks of me fit those criteria are uninvited from any of my spaces or projects. Maybe if you're a guest in my house and I find out you're one of those people, you get immediately told to get out, and if you say anything other than an immediate and compelling apology acknowledging at least some of what I find bothersome about it, you get a very short reply and then an upgrade to "get the fuck out". Maybe if you need help, maybe this is where my grudges become dangerous for the first time in ever - maybe I just choose not to help, unless of course I get that apology. Maybe if you're one of those people and you ask me what you did wrong, the only hint you get is "oh you want to know what you did wrong? you should've been more compassionate to that desire earlier".

Of course, if you ask me about an actual ethics judgement of any of the above, I'm pretty against it all at face value. But being blocked when I perceive it as unjustified really taps into my retaliatory monkey brain, and also strikes right at the place where my patience for people's bullshit is particularly worn thin. Like, you want to use this tool which has profoundly asymmetrically absolute and circumstance-insensitive effects? And you want to use this nuclear option so carelessly and clumsily? Ok. Then I guess when it displeases me, when I have grievances to raise with how you used it against me, I'll use the only means to affect your incentives that you're leaving available: a looming threat that one day it may have consequences which could only be avoided by either not blocking me or maturely communicating beforehand. You're not the only one who gets to take clumsily excessive actions (which in their worst extremes might hurt a lot or do actual and severe harm) because your feelings are hurt or you have negative judgements about someone. And if you think anything I suggested above is horribly disproportionate, notice that it's actually nothing more than as if I could block you in real life.

Luckily, a fully fulfilled and succeeding me, with more fully developed mental skills, just won't be bothered at all by someone blocking me and just won't have time for grudges about it. To that version of me, noticing that someone has blocked me will be like encountering an unpleasant smell in a public bathroom - quickly forgotten, not really held against anyone because people can't really help being the source of those sometimes, and I wouldn't even make you look or feel bad about it by bringing it up if I didn't need to. On the other hand, if you keep smelling too badly, I might not want to be around you, and the cognition suggested by the mind interferometry evidence of a bad blocking leaves a pretty lingering stench.

#ethics #hurt #cognition #mind interferometry

18 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 122

Annnnd WE’RE BACK!

Thank you so much for your patience during the hiatus. Work is still crazy, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel there *crosses fingers*. And I was able to build back up my cushion of chapters, so that was a huge win for me.

As a reminder, this is a skip forward roughly 4 years from chapter 121. So, if you read a bit and start to wonder “wait, did I miss something?”, you probably didn’t and it’s most likely something I am going to circle back to. Don’t be a afraid to shoot me an ask, however, if you are just really thrown off by something! I’ll gladly clarify unless it’s something plot-specific.

Thanks, as always, go to @baelpenrose, @raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog. By the way, Raven is working on a podcast of The Miys, which I am incredibly stoked about. Please follow @glimmeringfeatherspodcast for updates!

I carefully adjusted my glasses as I suppressed a giggle at Noah, who was swarmed with small yellow puffs of fuzz. In the last seven years since their discovery, Else’s hyper-fast evolution hadn’t slowed down much, although Grey did promise that it had slowed down. Noah buzzed at the puff resting on one of its vomu, eliciting a purr. “I believe they learned this behavior from Mac.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I admitted. “I caught him playing with several of them a couple days ago.”

“I have observed them together on frequent occasions.” Reaching up, it plucked another puff from the top of its head. “I cannot hear if you sit on my sensory organs, podling.” Soon after Else evolved to the point they could live outside of a habitat tank, Miys had developed a tendency to treat them like its own young, and generally had several of them perched somewhere.

“How many of them are there now?” I asked, reaching out slightly before stopping myself from petting the closest canary-sized fluff. “Else, can I pick you up?”

In response, it bounced onto my hand. I’d noticed how little they spoke now, but Miys had assured us it was a normal stage in hive-being evolution - once Else became too large to actually fit in our bodies, it wasn’t able to communicate through the translator chip. At this stage, it could still hear us, but communicating back was a work in process. Mostly, they just trilled and chirped.

“Currently, there are five hundred and seven thousand, six hundred and twenty-three.”

“They’re very adaptable,” I observed.

With the one free vomu it had, Noah made a nodding gesture. “Most species that reach sentience are. We are able to observe Else’s evolution on a much shorter time scale than most, as well. Consider humanity’s evolution, and imagine seeing it take place in years rather than over the course of millenia.”

“I know,” I laughed. “But seeing it is way more incredible than imagining it.” I adjusted my glasses again, eliciting the buzz that usually meant Noah was exasperated with me.

“Why do humans insist on using those instead of having their eyes repaired?”

“My eyes aren’t damaged,” I reminded it. “And you did repair my eyes. I’m wearing these because my eyes are working right. You know this.”

“In principle, not in practice.”

It was my turn to sigh. “Our eyes evolved to work in a specific kind of light. Earth’s sun is yellow, I think? But Von’s sun is more blue.” I gestured at the light emitters in the corridor. “When the light is in the twilight cycle like this, some humans can’t see as well as we could in Earth-twilight. Hence the glasses.”

“Sight is so inefficient.”

I just shook my head. I couldn’t exactly argue. “Between the light and the gravity, it’s been a huge adjustment.”

“You have all adjusted in quite - innovative ways,” Noah replied. “My kind have done many of these relocations. Not all species adapt well.”

“What was it you called it?” I squinted, both from trying to see what was ahead of me and from thinking. I’m going to have to talk to someone about some flashlights, I swear… “We ‘persist’?”

“Humans are remarkably stubborn, yes,” it confirmed. “As Arthur Farro seems to prefer explaining it, your species began space travel by attaching chemical ignition drives to your posteriors.”

Even after so long, some things just did not translate. “Yep, we very much strapped a rocket to our asses to achieve spaceflight,” I laughed. “Everything on Earth kind of evolved and adapted like that. We learned what wouldn’t poison us by watching others die from eating it, that kind of thing. Even our superstitions, and later our laws, were basically ‘hey, let’s not do this, it kills people’.” A liw made its way into my line of sight, rocking to mimic a confused head-tilt. “You rescued us for our sight, not because we are a particularly bright species.”

“I understand that the polite thing to do, according to your customs, is to object to that statement, however I have been told on several occasions that I lack any skill in falsehoods.”

“We bombed ourselves back to the Stone Age the second we hit our highest peak in technology.” I reached out and patted what would have been a shoulder on a human. “You don’t have to lie about that. Arthur has studied an absurd percentage of human history. Even from a scholarly perspective, I am assured we are a singularly idiotic race. Besides, we’d already ruined an entire planet at that point...”

“It has evidenced itself to be a lesson well-learned.” It returned the pat, gently. “For a species historically inclined to warfare, those on the Yjq have demonstrated a profound proclivity toward peace.”

“Trying to keep it that way, bud,” I admitted.

Removing yet another puff from its sensory organs, Noah continued. “Please be assured, also, that Terrans are far from ‘singularly’ idiotic. There are many species in the Galactic Community that are demonstrably lacking in what you refer to as ‘common sense’.”

Noah was still a terrible gossip. “Do tell,” I asked, crossing my mental fingers that we weren’t the worst out there.

“Preeyar,” it listed immediately.

“The rift-valley avians?”

“The same. They experience terrible reactions to liquid water, and yet they are fascinated by fountains and insist upon touching them!” Startled chirps erupted as all six appendages on Noah’s upper body flung out in frustration. “Any vessel transporting Preeyar has specific instructions on how to treat the resulting burns.”

I had to admit, that was pretty bad. “Terrans at least learn not to touch things that will burn us by the time we can speak, usually.” My nose tickled as several little Else-puffs migrated over to me, upset by the grand gesture from my friend. I was almost glad it was so difficult for humans to see in the corridor, because I probably looked absurd.

“Shalt’krii are somehow just as difficult,” Noah confessed. “As a species that have what you term an ‘allergy’ to sonic waves - they develop painful rashes and can have seizures when exposed. Yet, it is entirely inevitable when transporting a large group that several will have forgotten or neglected to bring dampeners.”

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped, trying not to laugh and upset Else again. “How?”

“It has eluded the Galactic Council since they joined. The dampeners are far less barbaric than what the So-K’nor do to resolve a similar concern, but I must privately admit that the So-K’nor are at least more consistent and effective.”

Well, yeah, deliberately deafening yourself permanently when you go off-world tends to be that way, I thought to myself. I knew I didn’t need to say it out loud, but I also knew that Noah would not address my thoughts out loud. “Okay, maybe we aren’t that bad,” I granted. “I think the worst we do is ingest mild poisons.”

“On an alarmingly frequent basis, yes. Including plants native to your world that actually attempt to digest you as you eat them.”

I shook my head. “Not this girl. I don’t like pineapple.”

“And the number of humans on the ship who willingly consume lactic acid, knowing it will cause them digestive distress?” If it had eyebrows, they would be arching, I just knew it.

“You have pointed out several times over the years that you can’t taste,” I pointed out. “So you have no idea how tempting cheese can be.”

Noah shook one vomu like a head. “Incorrect. Having witnessed the sheer amount of it that Tyche consumed once she realized that you were not lactose intolerant, there is empirical evidence to support your claim.”

Unconsciously, my hand jumped to touch my left ear before I could force it down. “I remember the spicy food,” I said carefully, stroking one of the fluffs on my arms. “But I didn’t know about the cheese. Come to think of it - “ I stopped in my tracks and turned to face Noah directly, “Why weren’t the consoles just adjusted to make all the food… I dunno, lactose-free, I guess?”

Two liw reached to pluck several yellow beings from my arms and head as Noah used one vomu to start ticking reasons. “One, because I was specifically asked not to by Grey Hodenson and Xiomara Kalloe, the consensus being that bovines are, in fact, in the genetic database. Two, because that was attempted several weeks before you were brought on board, and I was tempted to damage my sensory organs to block out the sheer number of complaints regarding how everything tasted.” Thankfully, its vomu was still empty when it flung outward. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to accommodate requests regarding something you do not experience?”

I felt slightly ashamed. “Not entirely, no.” Trying to lighten the mood slightly, I felt the need to point out “Besides, I really like goat cheese.”

“Something about chetter and mootsareeleh,” Noah grumbled.

“Ohhhhh,” I whispered. “Eyeah… do not mess with Italians’ mozzarella, I have learned. And cheddar does have a very specific flavor. I can see those being very loud complaints.”

“In eight Terran years, I am still confused why the color of the chetter is a determining factor, as well as how something so soft can be compared to an edged weapon.”

I felt like I was going to explode from suppressed laughter. I had to stop, tears streaming down my face, and catch my breath. “Oh, Noah… I honestly don’t know if I can explain that, but I can try…”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are weird #found family #humans baffle aliens #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #original science fiction #science fiction #sci fi #original sci fi #my writing

62 notes · View notes

carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

Text

Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part Sixteen is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time, usually. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 2,400

“How're you holdin' up?” Jody asked, cornering you in the empty room once the blood test was off to be processed.

“I'm not.” The deadened tone only caused more worry. Only, you were past caring. There was no point in hiding it. Your eyes were shadowed enough to give away the sleepless nights. “I need to find him. This?” You motioned between yourself and the door. “This doesn't matter right now.”

“It does.” Jody stated simply. Watching the way your eyes rolled. Not caring in the slightest. She'd insisted on the visit. You were only there to get her off your back. “You can try again-”

“I don't want to,” Came the low hiss. Snapping your head up. “All I want is Jack back.”

The moon would be your excuse. Or whatever planet was in retrograde. However, neither was the root of your problem. No, the attitude came from the amount of loss you'd experienced. All of it smothering the good.

“What about Dean?” That was the one question you didn't want. Ever.

“What about him?” It was almost as if she could physically see your hackles raise. Crankily, you yanked a magazine off the stand on the wall.

“Have you talked to him?” She pressed on. Too concerned to allow the way you attempted to block each question. “Even tried?”

“I've talked to Sam,” The careless shrug was so forced that she couldn't let it go. Immediately she asked for more. Wanting to understand why you'd reach out to one brother and not the other. “Dean...he doesn't want to talk to me, Jody. Likely wants to forget that part of his life ever existed.” The magazine pages were flipped too fast to actually be read. “I destroyed everything...Now? I'm not welcome back until Jack is there... If then.”

“I don't think that's true,” Her voice was soft enough that it made you pause. Wistfully hanging onto the words. “Dean...he's complicated.”

“That's the understatement of the year.” A sad frown tugged at your lips. It wasn't the first time the word had been used to describe the older Winchester. It wouldn't be the last.

“Maybe he didn't fall in love with you.” You flinched at that one visibly, unaware of the action. “Or maybe he did. We won't know until he's ready to say something.” Not a single glance upwards followed, earning a sigh. “But... if I had to guess? There was some serious puppy love started up in that bunker.” Her hand cupped yours, “You should've seen his face when you walked out with that last bag.” Your mind trailed back to that day. His emerald gaze radiated nothing but pain. You weren't blind to it. But, it was so much more than just that. She didn't understand. “You were more wanted than you realize.”

“He almost killed me,” Your teeth clenched angrily. Latching onto that with everything you had in you. “He forced this thing on me. Then, he killed himself.” A settling breath did nothing, “What was I supposed to do? Pretend it never happened?”

“You were scared-”

“Fucking terrified,” Your eyes slammed shut. You'd told yourself that the crying was done. Unfortunately, your body disagreed. Leaking onto your cheek. “Everything said only bad was coming, Jody... The mating? It wasn't going to end happily. For either of us.”

“Maybe he'll understand, Y/N-”

“He won't.” The certainty in your voice made her pause. “For all his talk? He wasn't going to go through with it.” Trying to swallow past the lump in your throat wasn't going so well. “He didn't want to destroy it. Take away any more of my life than he already had.” At least, that's what you told yourself it was. “By forcing it? I ruined that. I turned him into the ultimate bad guy.”

“Maybe he really wanted-”

“That wasn't what he wanted,” You had to believe that. Otherwise, you couldn't understand it. The lines all became too blurred. “He didn't want me, Jody. He never did. It was just his body...”

“Good news,” The doctor walked back in, derailing the conversation effectively. “Your body is functioning perfectly fine. I don't see any reason why you can't be mated in the future.”

“You're sure?” Jody asked, perking up. You simply slumped further down in your chair. Feeling even more depressed.

“I ran it three times,” She answered back. Flipping through the paperwork. “It's rare, but a bond can dissolve with an alpha that isn't compatible with the omega's genetic makeup. If I had to guess, that's what happened here.”

“How rare, exactly?” Your aunt continued, even though you were long past listening. That wasn't what had happened. Not even close.

“Let's just say that I haven't seen a case like it in my life,” Was the response. “And I likely won't see another before I die.”

–

“You're sure?” Dean asked, leaning back in his seat. Rubbing his jaw as he processed. It wasn't what he'd expected to hear when he called the familiar number. “No signs of it ever existing?”

“Not a trace,” Jody reported back. “I went over the results twice, myself.” Tapping her toes beneath her table. “That's some powerful stuff right there.”

“No kidding,” He lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips. “What she did seemed awfully simple to be that effective. I was looking at spells that date back centuries, but nothing that promised anything that... thorough.” His fingers tapped against the wood. It didn't match together nice and neat. Your answer? Intention was everything. Apparently your goal had been to get every piece of yourself as far away from that bond as you could. “She must be ecstatic.”

“Not really,” Her eyes glanced back to the entryway to the basement you were back residing in. “I think she was hoping that it wouldn't be that clean of a cut.”

“And why would she want that?” He didn't buy it. Not for a second. Otherwise, it wouldn't have happened. “She didn't want to be glued to me, Jody.” The glass was set down, then. His fingers tugging at the amethyst you'd never taken back. “She's better off as far away from this as she can get.”

“I think she knows that, too.” Jody's fingers came out to rub her forehead. “That doesn't mean its stopping her from looking.”

Sam hadn't mentioned you hunting. Dean would have remembered if he had. He couldn't help but to wonder if his brother was hiding it from him for you. If he was, he certainly hadn't counted on Jody spilling the beans.

“What'd ya mean?” He sat up at that, taking his feet off of the table. Eyes squinting in displeasure.

“She's digging for Jack, still, Dean... she's not giving up.” You were worrying her with the intensity of it. “Location spells. Protection spells. Opening communications...you name it, and she's been trying it.” A deep sigh sounded, then. “Apparently, she's picked up a few tricks from you two. She's been trying to track him through the FBI database, too.”

“Yeah?” He realized that he sounded almost proud at that, and changed his tactic with a throat clearing. “I don't get where you're goin' with this one. I gotta be honest with ya.”

“She's human, Dean...she panicked. And when Jack left, she didn't have that same reasoning to stick around with two alphas. An unmarked Omega-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Was his gruff reply. “I get it. It's scary. Especially given the previous circumstances.” He hated that he was the reason. That you didn't trust the bunker because he'd been careless with you right from the beginning. The all too familiar self loathing saturated him. “I'm gonna let ya go, alright? Just...keep an eye out for her. Let us know if anything crazy happens.”

“Dean...why'd you call, exactly?”

“Bye, Jody.” With that, the line went dead. She twisted her lips as she looked back towards your doorway. Wondering just what she could do to try and salvage the situation.

–

“Anything?” Dean walked up to Sam, coffee in hand.

“No... Thanks,” Sam stated in acknowledgment without leaving the laptop screen as his brother delivered the caffiene. “Not yet. I put out an APB to every single hunter we know.” Every avenue was being explored. Sam leaned backwards, popping his back as he straightened his spine. “But...Jack's off the grid.” Sam's screen was shut as Dean frowned at his own.

“Kid was pretty spun out.” Dean explained it away. Hating the look on his brother's face. The worried eyes that wouldn't quite face him. “We'll find him. I mean, there's gotta be a sign at some point, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam whispered, moving his eyes downwards.

“Kid can cause a tsunami with a hiccup.” The older brother lifted his coffee to his lips. An attempt to shake off the hangover he'd developed the night before. As if that'd shake away the thoughts of every way he'd gone wrong in life.

“I don't know,” The larger of the two ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe he's covering his tracks.” That would explain why you couldn't get a read on him.

The hand went down to scratch beneath his collar. Dean had to physically bite back the urge to mutter another cheap shot about cutting the locks. Luckily, Castiel entered the room before he could.

“Or, this apparent dearth of evidence is, in fact, the evidence,” He had commanded the attention in the room to him with his thick voice.

“The evidence of...”

“Of some horrific misadventure that's befallen him,” Castiel responded to Sam. Sounding exactly like a father that had lost his teenage son. Just a little more old school. “Like being dragged down to hell by Asmodeus.” The angel hadn't been able to prevent the fear from being spoken. “Or,” The second option was even less pleasant, “I don't know...Possibly worse...being hijacked to heaven by angels.”

“Yeah, but isn't he too fast and furious for angels?” The older brother couldn't quite see that as being the answer.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Cause that cleared things up. “That's what I'm going to find out.” Castiel's hands found his pockets on the trench coat. A move he'd picked up from the very men he was speaking to.

“Find out from who?” Sam leaned on his one arm to better look at his friend. “From...From the angels?”

“Yes.” Sam's worried gaze immediately met Dean's.

The older man didn't hesitate. He started getting up to his feet, “All right. Well, let's go.”

“Dean, you can't accompany me.” Castiel stated, as if the Winchester had lost his mind. “My contact is already anxious about meeting, and won't speak in the presence of a stranger.”

That was even less trustworthy, “So introduce me. Then I'm not a stranger. I'll bring a six pack.” The sass was getting him nowhere.

“Dean, I swore I'd protect this boy,” It was eating Cas alive that he couldn't do that. “Let me do this.” With that, he started walking away.

“Don't do anything stupid.” Dean called out, simply turning his head a little in the general direction. He didn't get an answer. He rotated back to see the angel's form retreating towards the bunker's door. Adding worry to his ever growing list. “All right,” With that, he moved back to his seat. “I guess we're stuck in idle,” He scooted it inwards, getting comfy.

“So...” The door opened as Castiel let himself out. “What do we do?” The later was accompanied with a scoff. Sam was starting to feel pretty useless himself. His arms came out as he questioned his brother, “Just...just sit around here and wait?” He hated that plan. His hands thudded against the wood of the table.

“Well, we could work a case,” Was the following suggestion. Dean had found one that was rubbing him the wrong way. “We got three murders here, a couple hundred miles apart. Same M.O.” He looked back at the pictures he'd been staring at for too long. “They were all horribly tortured before having their throats slit.” The laptop was spun around. “Look at the body. Next to it.” Dean's hand rubbed at his face. All he could picture was a different face attached to the corpse.

“She's a witch.” Sam zoomed in on the alter. His own stomach sinking. A small noise at the back of his brother's throat was his answer as the remaining coffee was chugged. “Were they all witches?”

“Looking like.” Dean stated easily, turning the laptop back. “These aren't hunter kills.” A sigh leaving him. Heavy in almost relief. A hunter was more of a threat to you than anything else. “They're....they're more ritualistic. Like a sacrament or something.” Sam chewed at his lip. “Plus, all of their places were ransacked. Which means somebody was looking for something.”

“Dean...” Sam cleared his throat. Going after the elephant in the room with gusto. “This...this isn't because of Y/N...is it?”

“Sure, Sam.” The sarcasm was heavy. “I personally went out. Asked a monster to kill a bunch of witches. Just so I could think 'bout the mate that left me.”

“That's not what I meant,” Was the returning grumble. “Have you tried to talk to her?”

“No,” Dean went back to clicking away at his keyboard. “But, I hear you have.”

“I was just checking in to see if Jack-”

“Right,” The lid was shut sharply. “Do me a favor...when you end up bringing her back here? Make sure it's a room away from mine. I don't wanna have to hear ya claim her.”

“It's not like that!” Sam yelled out as he watched the older man walk away with a click of his tongue.

At least, he didn't think it was. He let out a hefty, other worldly sigh. His fingers yanking through his hair.

He couldn't completely deny it to himself. He was attracted. You were smart, self reliant, and had a scent that could punch right through him.

Sam hadn't had been around an Omega in years. That's all it was. With that final thought, he got to his feet. Preparing to pack. It was going to be a long trip...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

86 notes · View notes

fishyfishxd · 3 years

Text

Suggested by: @i-cant-decide-blog

Wolfstar: ‘Oh, please! They were all over you!’

Link to prompt list is here.

Remus and Sirius’ relationship was a secret. The only people that knew about them were James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, because they’d caught Sirius sneaking back into his bed after being in Remus’.

There were good things about it, the sneaking around, the subtle looks in classes that no one else knew about, the secret notes.

However, there were also bad things about it. The constant hiding and worrying about being found out, the not being able to hold hands or kiss in public, and the constant flirting.

This was a big one for Remus, as Sirius always gained female attention. There was always a new girl flirting with him, trying to get with him.

But, at the end of the day, Sirius was gay, and we was dating Remus. Except, no one knew that, and there might be that one girl he paid attention to for the popularity.

It started at breakfast. It was a Gryffindor girl from the year below. It was also the day before the full moon, so Remus was in his usual pre-moon grumpy faze.

They were discussing a prank on the Slytherins when she decided to walk over to them, and sat down next to Sirius.

All of the marauders were confused, as none of them knew who this girl was, and immediately stopped talking.

Remus was the only one that twigged straight away why she was there, so he decided to just keep his head down and not say anything. He was used to it by now.

Remus was trying to focus on something else, what homework he had to do that night, when he felt James kick him gently. He looked up, and James and Peter were both looking at him sympathetically.

“You good?” James asked him, under his breath.

“I’m fine.” Remus responded. He then stood up, and walked out of the hall, not looking back at them.

Sirius, assuming that it was something to do with the full moon, as he was rarely interested in the girls around him, didn’t bother to chase after him, even though he was still concerned.

Next, at lunchtime. Remus wasn’t too bothered about her, Cynthia, he’d learned her name was, coming back to bother him again, as usually it was a different girl each meal.

However, she returned. Remus had caught sight of her walking into the Great Hall with her Ravenclaw friend. She muttered a few words to her, before making a beeline for the empty seat next to Sirius.

“Oh shit, not again.” Remus muttered to himself, looking away from the girl.

“What?” James asked him, as he’d heard what he had just said under his breath. Remus just simply gestured over to Cynthia, who was walking over to them.

Sirius looked slightly uncomfortable as the girl sat down next to him. She smiled at him, and went back to flirting with him.

To keep up his front, Sirius pretended to enjoy it, and flirted back with her.

Remus tried to block it out, but he couldn’t, and ended up walking out of the Great Hall again, not finishing his dinner.

Sirius went after him this time, it was unusual for him to act out twice in one day.

Remus managed to get halfway to the library, before Sirius cornered him.

“What’s up with you?” Sirius asked him. Remus rolled his eyes at him.

“What’s up with me?! What’s up with me is that you don’t seem to care.” Remus stated, and began to walk away from him, but Sirius was too fast to get away from.

“C’mon Moony, of course I care.” Sirius responded confused.

“You seem to care more about her today.” Remus muttered, but Sirius caught it.

“So that’s what this is about?” Sirius realised. He sighed and looked at his boyfriend. “You should just ignore her, she’s not doing anything.”

“Oh, please! She was all over you!” Remus exclaimed, shoving Sirius away, annoyed. “So, it’s her today, and another tomorrow. What about me?”

“What about you?!” Sirius snapped, annoyed at his reaction now.

“I’m your boyfriend! And you seem to pay more attention to them then you do me.” Remus responded. “It’s them, or me. If you wanna keep up your image, then do. I don’t care.”

He did care. He cared so much. He loved him, and we scared to tell him that.

Sirius hesitated, and that’s all Remus needed.

“Don’t talk to me. And don’t bother coming to the Shack tomorrow night, I don’t want you there.” Remus told him, before he noticed James and Peter walking towards them, a small group of First Years behind them who were getting to their lessons early.

“Oh, look, people. I should leave, God forbid they see me anywhere near you.” Remus snapped at his boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend now. He shoved him backwards, before he walked back to the dorm.

Remus sat away from the group at Dinner, sitting with Lily, Marlene and Mary instead.

Cynthia was back at it again. And Remus couldn’t care less this time.

“What’s up with that girl?” Mary spoke up, looking over at the other three marauders down the table. “She’s just edging her way into his life. Like he’d like a girl like her.”

Like he’d like a girl. Remus thought to himself, as his picked at his food.

“Remus, are you okay?” Lily asked him, noticing how had a slightly sad look on his face.

“I’m fine.” Remus muttered, swirling his food around his plate, not eating any of it. He’d actually barely touched it.

“You’re not.” Lily corrected. “You’re not eating, or sitting with your friends, and I saw you walk out of Breakfast and Lunch earlier.”

Remus shrugged, and took a sip of his water. In reality, he felt like breaking down. Crying in Lily’s arms, telling her how much he loved him, and that he didn’t love him back. How they’d shared all those moments, and now it was over, just because of this one girl.

“You’ve fallen out with one of them, haven’t you?” Lily guessed, and Remus nodded. Lily gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, you do know that you’re going to have to sleep in the same room as him, so you’re going to have to make up.”

“Then I guess I’m sleeping in the common room.” Remus responded. Lily sighed.

“We can help you make up with him, if you want?” Marlene suggested. “You’ve got to tell you why it happened first.”

Remus didn’t respond, just looked up and glared at the girl sitting next to the boy he loved. Sirius had her arm around her, obviously flirting. It wouldn’t last long, Remus knew that, but it still bothered him.

“It’s the girl isn’t it, you...” Marlene began, but was cut off by Lily.

“Oh, my God!” Lily exclaimed, but quietly. “Muffilato.”

No one would be able to hear the four now as they talked, for a few minutes.

“You like her!” Mary exclaimed, realising what she thought it was. Remus shook his head.

“You like him.” Lily corrected her friend, making Marlene and Mary both stare at Remus for a response. Remus shook his head again.

“I love him.” Remus replied, and Lily smiled widely at him.

“Well, in that case, we need to set you guys up!” Marlene insisted.

“We dated, since the beginning of this year.” Remus told them, and the girls’ eyes all widened. “Broke up during lunch.”

“What? Why?” Lily asked.

“Cares more about his reputation than me.” Remus announced, rather sadly.

“Did he dump you for her?” Mary asked him.

“Mary!” Lily warned the girl.

“Sorry, Remus.” Mary apologised.

“It doesn’t matter. He might as well have.” Remus told the three. He glanced over at the remaining marauders and the girl. James and Peter both looked extremely uncomfortable, and Sirius seemed to be really into the girl. “He doesn’t even like girls.”

“He’s gay?” Marlene questioned. “Even though it’s none of my business, are you?”

Remus shook his head.

“I guess that means I still have a chance.” Mary winked at him, tossing her Afro-style hair over her shoulder. This earned a laugh from the group.

Later that night, Remus sat in the common room, his Transfiguration book on his lap.

He could see Sirius sitting in the opposite corner of the room. He should be doing his homework too, but he was preoccupied with the girl sitting on his lap.

Remus tried to ignore them, he really did, but he just couldn’t. He looked down and got through one sentence before he looked up again.

He wished he hadn’t looked up again.

Cynthia, the girl on Sirius’ lap, kissed him. Remus couldn’t bare to watch. He stood up and walked briskly out of the common room and towards the dorms.

Sirius shoved the girl off of him. All he could think about was Remus. His Moony. And why he had done what he did. Then he decided, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the strange looks in the hallway for dating a dude. He didn’t care about his reputation anymore. All he cared about, was Remus.

“What the hell?” The girl asked him.

“I can’t do this.” Sirius stated, and lifted the girl off of his lap and stood. He looked to the chair where Remus usually sat, and saw that he wasn’t there.

There was a noise. The sound of Remus dropping his Transfiguration book on the floor, and him cursing in response.

Sirius’ head turned in that direction, and saw him by the stairs to the boys dorms.

Sirius walked fast, almost ran to him. And when Remus looked up, he was faced with Sirius looking down on him.

Remus sighed, and stood to his usual height, which was well above Sirius.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Remus told him.

“Good, because I don’t want to talk.” Sirius responded. And then he kissed him. Full on the mouth as everyone watched.

When they, eventually, pulled apart, Sirius muttered three simple words.

“I love you.” Remus stood, taken aback by his, now boyfriend’s, words.

“I love you too.” Remus smiled, and kissed him again.

#harry potter #young marauders #wolfstar #sirius black #marauders era #moony x padfoot #padfoot x moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #sirius x lupin #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #writing prompt #marauders one shot

45 notes · View notes

zhansww · 3 years

Note

Imma do a little confession. I use to follow this FB page for XZ and it was really helpful at times but then things got kinda crazy (if that's the right term) about how WY hates him and only used him for his career. I even commented at time about how anti's a lot and that I miss how they use to be, more or just friendship it didn't matter. And I was totally singled out and was called stupid and for being blind about what WY was and what he and his team was going to XZ. Part 1

Part 2. So I ended up unfollowing the page when I saw how kinda toxic it was but went back to see at least three more people say that this page is just a big anti-WY group and questioning the group leader. My heart hurt from it all but didn't lose hope that ggdd were still a big part of each other's lives and I just want then to be happy. I'm sorry for ranting your blog just helps with how mean people can be and I find comfort in it, I shall look to you and anyone you recommend for ggdd guidance

Ever since XZ and WYB’s popularity blew up, there have been many accounts on weibo that are just dedicated to making the most ridiculous theories about how gg and dd actually hate each other (paid haters are a thing in c-ent btw which is still insane to me). I noticed that this “trend” has also reached the international fans this year. I guess what’s worse than the idiots who spread such information are the ones who instantly believe it, not because any of it makes sense but because they want to. It’s unfortunate but there are many fans like that. Fans who judge reality based on what they want to be real, based on their emotions. I’m not surprised that they insulted you for trying to reason with them. When you try to discuss with them, it doesn’t matter how objective and rational you're being, to them it’s just like you’re questioning their feelings so ofc, they immediately get defensive and riled up and well, even more emotional. Believe me, I tried many of times but it always ended the same. If I may offer some advice, I know it may be frustrating to come across people like that but I think it’s best to ignore them precisely because you can’t reason with them and because you know they’re wrong anyway (lol). This is something that XZ himself does, too; he said that when he sees outrageous comments about him that are untrue, he wants to reply but he doesn’t cuz he thinks that time will tell. And at this point, this is what I do, too btw. I have no understanding or patience for “fans" like that. It’s obviously totally fine to like one of them without liking the other but any XZ solo who hates Yibo and seriously believes that he is working against Zhan-ge either doesn’t know shit about Yibo or has grossly misunderstood his personality. And the same goes for Yibo solos who hate Zhan-ge. That’s actually even worse imo cuz anyone who claims to be a fan of Yibo knows what kind of honest and straight-forward person he is and how uncharacteristically devoted he is to Zhan-ge and yet, they still delude themselves into thinking Yibo is giving fanservice to cp fans or that it must have been so hard for him to force himself to smile around Zhan-ge cuz he secretly hates him. Yeah, I don’t consider those kind of solos to be fans at all. I reckon they hate the possibility that their idol isn’t only theirs so much that they’d rather do anything they can to convince themselves that ggdd hate each other and their idol couldn’t possibly love someone else than their fans.

(inserts random yz gif cuz long text posts look too boring lol)

It’s a pity that that XZ fan account you followed turned into a salty anti but for what it’s worth, if you ever come across those kind of antis again, just ignore them or block them if you have to. You can’t control what they do, only what you do. And I think the only way to counter such hate is with love and support for Zhan-ge and Yibo and with maybe spreading the reality - which is that they have a good relationship in private. “I just want them to happy” is a sentiment that I relate to so damn much. Friends or lovers, they deserve to be happy and to be able to publicly support each other and show that they are close if they want to instead of being forced to hide that. I want that for them so badly. The road ahead is still long but I intend to keep supporting ggdd until they get there someday. I hope you will, too! I’m so humbled that my blog can help you find comfort ^-^ To be honest, I have no problem ignoring antis cuz they’re simply wrong. They mostly just make me laugh cuz they sound so stupid and keep contradicting themselves, it’s embarrassing. Reality says the opposite of what they say so I don’t care about them in the slightest. You’re more than welcome to rant about them to me anytime (lolz) but I hope that maybe possibly explaining how little I think of them will make it easier for you to ignore them, too xD

#ask #bravest-hobbit

37 notes · View notes

deckof-dragons · 3 years

Note

bugsnax idea: while buddy, filbo, and egg are climbing the mountain after the point of no return, beff and cromdo are grudgingly cooperating on a salvaging run to some wrecks that got shifted by the earthquake. theyre looking for parts to fix buddys airship. they also bring back some other supplies. buddy is very happy about this (it doesn't matter that it was in a sunken ship for a year, freeze dried scrambled eggs is WAY more of a meal than sauce - plus the medical supplies are useful)

I'm not 100% sure this ask was intended as a request but I treated it as such anyway because I wanted to. I mostly wanted to try writing from Beffica's POV because I love her but also hate her for being mean to Filbo. And this was a good way to do that, especially since I like her Cromdo's dislike for one another. Also, I suppose this is also a good way to establish that I'm open to requests. I do wish you had sent it to my Bugnsax blog (@poliel) though but it did come in like right after I made the blog so it's possible you didn't know about it.

“You only volunteered to do this because you’re hoping to steal some treasure,” Beffica said as they left Snaxburg together.

“Nah, that ain’t the only reason,” Cromdo replied. “Somebody’s got to do it, might as well be me, right? And if I happen upon some treasure whilst searching through the wreckage, there ain’t no harm in taking it. ‘Sides, you only volunteered to keep an eye on me. So you ain’t got a leg to stand on here.”

Beffica couldn’t exactly argue with that since it was true. But somebody needed to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t try anything sleezy. In the interest of this being a rather urgent matter though, she didn’t bother saying so or anything else for now. Once they fixed the air ship and were safely sailing away, they could all go back to fighting and hating each other. Until then though it was best to get along and work together.

So instead, she started jogging, trying not to think about the occasional earth rumbling or the mounds of what looked like food coming out of the ground. As expected, Cromdo picked up his pace too, almost immediately starting to breath heavier.

By the time they reached the beach proper, Beffica was starting to breath harder too. Gosh how had long had it been since she’d last gone for a proper jog? Too long for sure. For Cromdo however it had clearly been longer with the way he was huffing and puffing. She wasn’t going to slow down for him though, they were in too much of a hurry and it made any further conversation impossible. So onward they continued towards Boiling Bay.

By the time they got there Beffica knew to expect it to be different than it had before the quake based off the changes Shimmering Springs had clearly gone through. The lava flow that had once crossed across the sand into the ocean had slowed to a trickle, the cave it came out of blocked up with rocks. The biggest change though and what was surprising enough to cause them both to slow to a halt was how much the shoreline had been altered. It hardly looked like the same place anymore. But as Snorpy had suggested, the quake had shook up and revealed more wreckage. Including two halves of a whole ship sticking up out of the water a bit further out. Which was the first real turn of lucked they’d had since arriving on this dang island especially since it looked remarkably intact other than the whole being split in half thing. In fact it looked like it hadn’t been there for very long … Wait a minute…

“I think that’s the ship we arrived here on,” Cromdo said before she could even complete the thought. “I guess Liz and Egg didn’t run off with it after all.”

“Huh? But how’d it get… You know what? Never mind. We don’t have to time to waste. Let’s go get what we need and gather anything else that might be useful and get back to Snaxburg.” Hopefully before another big quake hit or lava destroyed the town or the Queen of Bugsnax showed up to eat everyone or the Grumpinati came to finish them off or whatever other bad thing could supposedly end them before they could got off this island.

With the ship being split in two and there being two of them the most logical course of action was to split up and each search one half. Which made keeping an eye on Cromdo more difficult but the matter was a bit too urgent for Beffica to really worry about. It also unfortunately this meant getting very wet since the ship was still more submerged than not. But on the bright side, the bugsnax meant she currently didn’t have fur anymore and thus she didn’t have to deal that because wet fur was the worst.

It was Cromdo’s idea to carry everything they could salvage back in. Beffica was the one who found the ship’s massive ice chest though. It was more than big enough for their needs and already had some random foodstuffs in it, a good start. There somehow wasn’t even much water in it.

Their number one priority was finding what could even maybe be used to fix Buddy’s air ship and get it up and running again. Lucky for them Snorpy somehow seemed to know exactly what they would need for that and quickly laid it out for them. Hopefully they could find everything he needed.

Once they had what seemed and would hopefully be enough to fix the airship bundled into the ice chest on top of what was already in there, they both went back to their ship halves to have one more look around for anything that might be useful and would fit in the space left in the chest. Beffica unfortunately didn’t find much, everything else that might’ve once been helpful was too waterlogged to be of any real use now. But upon reuniting with Cromdo by the ice chest she was pleased to see he’d found something.

“What’s that?” she asked she approached.

“First aid kits. I don’t know how well anything inside them held up with the whole being underwater thing for however grumping long but it don’t hurt to bring them along regardless. But anyway, you find any treasure? Or anything that might be worth selling?” His hopeful tone indicated he’d found no such thing himself.

“Nope.” Not that she’d had brought it along if she had. “I unfortunately didn’t find anything actually useful either.”

With a sigh, Cromdo snapped the ice chest’s lid shut.

“Let’s just get this back to Snaxburg,” she continued before he could say anything. “Buddy and company should be nearing Frost Peak by now. We need to have the airship ready to go preferably before they get back.” Hopefully Lizbert would be with them. If not then… they’d have to write her off for good.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Let’s just get the grump out of here already. You take the back end, I’ll take the front. And lift with your legs, not your back ‘cause trust me, just ‘cause you’re young don’t mean you can’t throw your back out. And you don’t want to do that.”

“Yeah, grandpa, I know.” Beffica went around to grab her side.

“Hey, I ain’t that old.”

Beffica scoffed but otherwise chose to ignore him. “Lift in three… two… one.” They lifted it with a grunt and wasted no time starting back for Snaxburg.

One escape sequence later

Filbo seemed have steering the ship well in hand so Buddy gratefully plopped down to sit on their bed after making sure everyone was okay. It was rather crowded on board but it was still their ship so everyone had kindly left the bed to them. They were a bit tempted to lie out on it and take a nap but… they were still a bit too high strung to fully relax yet. Besides, there was a large ice chest on board now, pushed up against the back wall to keep it out of the way. Someone must’ve loaded it up with stuff from the town and brought it onboard before the bugsnax really began their assault. What exactly was inside was a mystery though, but one that shouldn’t be horrible and terrifying and therefore a safe thing to investigate. It’d also just be good to know in general in case anyone needed anything that it might contain. So Buddy reached over and pulled it closer and perpendicular to the bed so they could pop the latches and open it.

Inside was mostly empty but there was a rolled-up bit of sail cloth and a few loose planks of wood. … Ah, probably the leftovers of the stuff the others had used to repair the ship. What little was left probably wouldn’t be useful but it was best to keep it around anyway, just in case it was. Underneath that was… first aid kits, three of them. They were all leaking water, probably seawater judging based off the smell of it. Anything that was waterproof inside was still good to have on hand though. And at the bottom were packets of…

“Freeze dried scrambled eggs?” Buddy read the label aloud as they lifted it. That was certainly not what they’d expected and a quick look revealed the other packets had other freeze-dried foods as well. With a shrug, the dried it off before tearing it open with their teeth. They then sniffed the opening. … Hmm… it didn’t smell like the sea water had gotten in so… the poured some into their mouth.

It did not at all taste like any scrambled eggs Buddy had ever had. It didn’t have much of a flavor at all really. But what little was there was far better than ketchup or any other sauce. It was the first solid food Buddy had eaten in months. With that in mind they were tempted to down the whole thing right this instant followed by everything else in the ice chest. Before they did that though…

“Hey Gramble.” With how morosely quiet everyone was being they didn’t even need to raise their voice a whole lot for Gramble to hear them over by the bow of the ship. “I found some real food if you want some.” He’d gone even longer without eating solid food than Buddy had so he deserved some too.

His response was barely audible but sounded and awful lot like a “No, thanks.” Before Buddy could ask him if he was sure though, he perked up, raising his voice. “Wait, by ‘real food’ do you mean not bugsnax and not sauce?”

“Yep, exactly!”

“Oh, okay then!” And he was on his way over with Wiggle following.

Next Buddy turned to look at Shelda who’d been sitting in the corner on the other side of the cabin. She’d gotten up though and approached. She took a breath, clearly intending to ask for them to share. Buddy spoke up before she could though. “You can have some too.” She may have occasionally lost the battle of willpower and partaken in eating bugsnax but she’d still mostly eaten sauce for however long she’d been on the island.

“I… thanks,” she said before settling down on the floor by the ice chest.

“Ooh, let’s see,” Wiggle said as she and Gramble arrived. “Freeze-dried scrambled eggs that’s… not all appetizing.”

“It’s a whole lot better than sauce,” Gramble said, mirroring Buddy’s feelings exactly.

Speaking of that, Buddy was done offering to share with anyone else. No one else needed any or would probably even want any regardless. And there was already barely enough for just the three of them. When they got home, Buddy would eat all the real food they desired. For now though, this would more than do.

#my writing #bugsnax #beffica winklesnoot #cromdo face #the journalist #request

10 notes · View notes

heathenarmyimagines · 3 years

Photo

Title: Find Us

Summary: Something very not good happens.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

You were internally screaming, wondering how the hell you got here. Top less, in a truck with a bloody nosed boy and a cop at the window.

‘I’m gonna need you both to step out of the vehicle.’ the cop said sternly.

Ivar sighed and rolled down your window.

‘Hello officer; did you happen to have a jacket or blanket she could use?’ he asked politely.

‘The male officer sighed.

‘Stay here, I already have your plates and it’s stunning how quick I can have every cop car in the city looking for you.’ he warned before walking to his car.

‘What are we gonna do? Shit what is my mom gonna do?’ you panicked.

‘Calm down. Just be quiet, look totally embarrassed and I can get us out of this.’ Ivar whispered, looking at the cop that was coming back.

The cop held up a grey scratchy looking blanket, but considering that the only thing keeping your nipples covered was your arm you weren’t too picky.

For a moment all you did was look at the cloth the man offered you, wary that moving too much would expose even more of yourself.

Luckily the officer took pity on you and just dropped it into your lap.

‘Thank you.’ you mumbled, pulling it over you.

Once you were secure in your coverage Ivar opened his door and you followed suit.

You sent a concerned look Ivar’s way, seeing how stiffly he was moving, he was visibly wincing with each step.

‘Now that we are all as appropriate as we can be, care to explain why you two are loitering in a closed park.’

‘We are so sorry, it’s just-well we are just, trying to…you know. Take things to the next level in our relationship.’

‘Ivar!’ you gasped.

‘What?! Am I supposed to lie? Kinda hard to do that when you don't have on a shirt, and I’m bleeding because we have horrendous coordination.’ he argued.

The officer snickered but quickly covered it up with a cough.

‘Look, Mr.Ragnarson. I have caught your brothers all over the city in a great many situations, as I’m sure your brothers can attest to. Do not think being rich will keep you out of trouble, however this is your first incident and everyone has been a teenager. Get outta the park and try hitting third base in a place that isn’t public.’ he said.

You were so damn red it was amazing you hadn’t become a damn tomato.

‘Keep the blanket...stay safe.’

‘Thank you officer we are sorry for wasting your time.’ Ivar apologized as the officer got back in his car and drove off.

Immediately you swatted at his arm, repeatedly, almost as hard as you could.

‘What the hell is your problem?!’

‘My legs are giving out soon so help me get back in the car.’ Ivar hissed as he as his knees buckled.

Just before it was too late you managed to catch him, in doing so you nearly hit the ground with him. Thankfully you found your footing and stabilized the both of you, all the while keeping the blanket over your shoulders.

‘Jesus! You’re heavy…’ you groaned out.

‘How sweet of you to say (Y/N), really I’m flattered. Can you drag my heavy ass to the car?’

‘I can try, but I don’t have too much confidence in myself to be honest.’ you confessed.

‘Just let me put some of my weight on you, I can make it.’ he grunted.

You nodded and let Ivar move around a bit, standing a little taller, taking some of his weight off.

Surprisingly enough the two of you moved very well together and got him in the car pretty quickly, all things considered.

‘Alright, you ok Ivar?’ you asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Good because I need you in shape...so I can yell at you the entire ride home.’ you replied hitting him again.

‘Stop that!’ Ivar pouted.

‘Why did you tell that cop you were trying to cop a feel?!’ you hissed.

‘I didn’t tell him that, I said we were trying to have sex.’

‘Ivar!’

‘Did you want to be taken to the station to sit in a cell and wait for the police to call your mom and tell her what you were doing in my car shirtless?’

‘You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met, and that says something coming from someone with six siblings!’ you snapped.

‘Are you done?’

‘...yes.’

‘Good, because I don’t think I can make it to my house.’

‘Excuse me.’

‘My legs are sick of me, I didn’t give my meds time to kick in fully, I didn’t eat and it’s making me feel sick.’ Ivar said weakly, leaning back in his seat.

‘What were you doing driving when you felt this bad?’

‘Had to see you.’

It felt as if the air had been knocked out of you, Ivar had stupidly driven to meet you through pain you couldn’t even comprehend.

Sure you’d had friends before, but you couldn’t think of a single one that would even consider doing what Ivar had without any hesitation.

‘Can you get to my house in one piece?’

Ivar looked over at you, took a second to shake his head affirmative.

‘OK, me casa su casa I guess.’ you smiled.

‘Thanks.’ he said.

‘You’re still the worst.’ you joked before you ran around the truck to get back in the passenger seat.

Ivar closed his door and started the car.

‘My first slumber party, think we’ll get to braid each other’s hair?’ he said weakly.

‘Focus on getting us there buddy.’ you rolled your eyes playfully.

Ivar drove slowly and carefully, if you hadn’t personally witnessed him driving before you’d almost believe he was still a student driver.

Nonetheless, he did make it to your house and he parked safely, without blocking your mom’s car.

‘Good news is we made it, bad news is my couch is super uncomfortable but my room is upstairs.’

‘I can make it.’ Ivar assured you.

Deciding to have faith that Ivar knew what he was and wasn’t capable of, you held back your urge to ask if he was ok.

You got out and the two of you made your way into the house as quietly as you could, quickly you verified that no one was up on the first floor.

So far so good, your mom would have been waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase if she knew beforehand that you had snuck out.

Just as Ivar said, he made it up the stairs surprisingly quiet for a guy who had just nearly collapsed a few minutes earlier.

Once you two were safely in your room with the door closed, and locked Ivar quite literally fell face forward onto your bed.

You walked over to your desk and cut on the lamp, so that you weren’t moving around in nearly complete darkness.

‘Now if you don’t mind, staying in that exact position while I put on a shirt.’ Ivar wordlessly held out a thumbs up.

You pulled a sleep shirt out of your dresser, and just to make you feel a bit better you also put on one of your more comfortable bras.

Finally dressed you begin to fold up the blanket the cop had given you.

‘We’re good.’ you announced quietly.

‘Good, now where did you want me to sleep?’ Ivar asked as he sat up.

‘Uh uh, first I’m going to give you something to eat, you said you felt sick right.’

‘You don’t have to take care of me.’ he declined.

‘Shut up. You feed me everyday at lunch, let me feed you for once.’ you dismissed.

Ivar sighed in defeat and just laid back down.

You went downstairs and made two sandwiches, grabbed the family sized bag of chips that was more than half empty, took two sodas and a pair of bananas from the fridge.

Getting up the stairs and opening your room door proved to be quite the challenge but you prevailed.

With very visible relief you sat down your feast on the bed and took a seat in your office chair, wheeling over to the bedside while Ivar helped himself to one of the bananas.

‘Thanks.’

‘No issue, after that shit fest I need to stress eat...plus can’t have your first sleepover be a complete bust.’

‘So...do you wanna finish talking about-’

‘No, not now. The headache is finally clearing up, plus I’m not ready to get another nose bleed.’ Ivar interrupted.

‘Wait, so the nose bleed wasn’t a side effect of the medicine?’

‘No, neither was the headache. While I wasn’t feeling my bubbly self tonight, my head didn’t hurt until I tried to remember my dreams.’ he explained, finishing his sandwich.

You took a while to think this information ove as Ivar handed you a soda.

‘Yeah we should definitely not do anything that makes your head hurt, not tonight at least.’ you agreed.

The two ate in a comfortable silence, after such an eventful past hour the peace was very much so welcomed.

At last the food had been eaten and the soda cans emptied, so you threw away the trash and did your best to wipe away the crumbs from your covers.

‘So...am I sleeping on the bed?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes.’ you replied like it was obvious.

‘And you will sleep...where?’

‘On the floor.’

‘No, you sleep in your bed, I’ll take the floor.’ he argued.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I’m not letting you sleep on the floor in your own room.’ he said strictly.

‘Well I’m not letting you sleep on my floor either.’ you snapped back.

‘Alright then sleep on the bed, I won’t do anything if you don’t.’ Ivar bargained.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, I definitely won’t do anything other than snore and probably kick you out of bed.’ you scoffed.

Ivar rolled his eyes and awkwardly moved around until he could get comfortably under the covers and laid down.

Still partially annoyed, you walked over to the desk and took one of your prescribed sleeping pills and cut off the light.

After a moment of wondering if you were really about to share a bed with your guy friend you assured yourself that the only feelings you had for Ivar were platonic.

With that in mind you got in the bed and got settled in, you still made sure that there was plenty of space between the two of you.

‘Won’t your mom wonder why I’m here in the morning?’ Ivar asked.

‘No, everyone is going to Sunday morning church service. No one will be coming near my room, not until afternoon service. Benefits of being unable to sleep is getting a lot more opportunities to sleep in.’ you answered.

‘OK, if you’re sure.’ Ivar yawned before turning over.

With Ivar turned around and his breathing already evening out you also succumbed to your own exhaustion and went to sleep in record timing.

But of course you couldn’t just enjoy sleeping, not when your apparent past life was dead set on ruining your current life.

You were back in that strange room with the long fire pit, the smell of old leather and barn animals filled the air,

At first you thought it was empty, dreams like that had seemed to be becoming more common recently.

You sighed and turned, thinking you could walk around the area a bit more, maybe find something useful.

Just as you turned around you certainly found something...someone more specifically.

‘Ah!’ you squeaked out in shock as you were met by the eyeless face of the only man you could actively speak to outside of Ivar.

‘You are making progress with the Boneless one.’ he said.

‘I think I am, but I-we, we have questions and we need them answered.’ you replied.

‘You ask the wrong questions.’

‘You haven’t even heard my-’

‘I know your questions, you want to know why...why doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that he remembers, he must remember himself in all his glory, and his disgrace. He will deny it, and the memory will hurt him, but he must.’ the man said, his voice deep, heavy and grave.

For a moment his words took the very air from your lungs, they made the hair on your arms stand up and you wanted to wake up and leave this behind you; but you couldn’t.

‘Fine, I won’t ask you why, but you will tell me this. What will happen to him once he does remember?’ you asked, demanding an answer.

‘What happens when you remember things?’

You were startled out of your sleep by an iPhone ringtone.

Sluggishly you reached over for your phone that was on the nightstand and looked at it in annoyance but it wasn’t ringing.

You felt the bed shift and looked over to see Ivar leaning over to pick up his phone off the floor.

‘What do you want, Hvitserk?’ he answered, his voice deeper than normal.

‘I’m out with (Y/N)...shut up you idiot... yeah...I’ll be home for the damn lunch.’ Ivar said before hanging up and throwing the phone back down on the floor.

Just as you were about to ask what was going on Ivar rolled around facing you, he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You were so close to Ivar’s chest that you could hear his heartbeat.

Ivar was most definitely sleeping if the quiet snore was anything to go off of, and you had no clue how you were supposed to deal with this. So you tried to mentally make a to-do list, if only to make it easier for you not to freak out about how you were cuddling with a boy in your bed.

First thing you needed to know was what time it was, then you needed to get the hell out of this bed.

Luckily you hadn’t put your phone down, it was still in your hand.

So at a very weird angle you held up your hand and strained your neck to look at the screen.

Eleven fifty four in the morning, a solid six hours of sleep you noted absentmindedly.

Ok, step one went without a hitch, now for the next step.

First you moved his arm that was draped over your waist, and did an awkward little skoot backwards until you were almost completely out of the bed.

‘Where you going?’ Ivar asked sleepily.

‘Um, out of bed?’

‘Get back here...I’m sleepy.’

‘I thought you were a morning person.’ you tried.

‘Not on days like this.’

‘It’s almost noon, my family will be back at like twelve thirty.’ you said.

Ivar made a unpleased noise and sat up, he put his feet down then he lightly stomped each foot.

‘At least I can walk now.’ he sighed as he stood up.

‘So...you like to cuddle.’ you smiled, trying to lighten the mood without talking about his legs.

‘Rarely, and don’t go telling people either.’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’

‘Because I could tell everyone you got caught with your twins out last night.’

‘Ivar!’ you shouted.

‘I’ll be quiet if you will?’ he bargained.

‘Deal, any...dreams last night?’ you asked.

‘No. What about you?’

You nodded.

‘And I got at least two of our questions answered.’

‘Which two?’

‘Well..I know that your nose bleed was because you were remembering. The man with no eyes said the memory would hurt.’

‘The man with no eyes, what else did he say?’ Ivar asked.

‘I asked what would happen if you did remember.’

‘Ok...and?’

‘He just said what happens to me when I remember things.’

Ivar squinted his eyes in confusion.

‘What happens when you remember things?’

‘I mean...nothing, I just have that information again I guess, but the information I remember is usually not an entire lifetime of memories.’ you said.

‘Well, maybe if you’re as lucky as me you’ll get to remember your old life too.’ he sighed.

‘Ivar, I know this all really sucks…’

‘Were you gonna finish the sentence?’

‘No that was it, this sucks.’

Ivar scoffed, but it quickly became a laugh, a contagious kind it seemed as you were also in stitches.

‘Come on, I gotta start getting ready for afternoon service, and I think you have some type of lunch thing with your family.’

‘Yeah. I’ll call you after.’ Ivar promised.

‘Cool, and not to smother you, but let me know how you are feeling when you get in.’

‘Fine. I can text you.’

‘Good.’

The two of you stood still for a minute.

‘Ok bye.’ Ivar said, actually leaving this time.

You weren’t sure why, but something possessed you to look out your window so you could see Ivar get in his car.

And maybe whatever made you come to the window also made Ivar look back up at you.

He smiled and waved, and you returned the favor.

You watched him get in and pull off and you let out a breath that you couldn’t for the life of you remember holding; your chest felt tight and your cheeks were hot.

Oh...this was bad.

#Find us Series #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarson #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #vikings imagine #modern!vikings #hvitserk ragnarson

43 notes · View notes

not-gae-cuz-i-like-straight-wae · 3 years

Text

WOW!!! Warning: there are some SERIOUSLY AWFUL HATERS out here on Tumblr!!! \(°o°)/

Okay, I don’t exactly know how to put this, but I’m gonna try anyway.

What I’m gonna talk about, happened yesterday, but I was kind of in a SHOCK because of it, so I totally didn’t know what to say... But I DO know that I’m INCREDIBLY DISAPPOINTED and also VERY MAD! Someone TOTALLY insulted me PERSONALLY and even told lies about me as well! It's completely unjustified. That much I know for sure. This person is so hateful, that even though I’m no hater, it’s kinda contagious and I feel like hating that person back. Especially after what all that already happened before the person did what he/she did. What a filthy TRAITOR!

So this person makes fan art and I was a great fan of it. I even had drawings of that person on my laptop lock screen and background. I knew they all were on his/her Tumblr page, but I had no account yet, so I couldn’t like the posts or something else. Eventually, after seeing more interesting stuff on Tumblr, I decided to create an account for myself. One of the first things I did, was following this person, liking a lot of his/her fan art and I wrote many kind comments in which I let him/her know how much I loved the art. I also sent some private messages to this person to tell him/her these things personally (and it were long messages, not just some short sentence like “I like your art”) and that I’d love to see more of the characters he/she drew. He/she replied with a “thank you” and said he/she would indeed make more and I said that I couldn’t wait.

Then (and this was yesterday) I looked at the list of the ones I follow and noticed there was one less. I went to our chat and from there I tried to go to his/her page, but I couldn’t manage to do that (which was because the person blocked me, apparently). I just looked up the page in the search bar and there I saw the message... IT WAS AWFUL. Not only the message itself, but also (and especially) the TAGS. This person was literally talking about ME and didn’t care a thing about letting me know that. It was absolutely disgusting to read it all and I was all like: “WHAAAAAAAAAAT?????!!!!!!!!!!” This person HATES and SCOLDS me, because (he/she said) I don’t support the lgbt+ community. Because I’m homophobic. The person said I’m not being oppressed for being straight... Like, WOT?!

Let me start off by saying this: YES, I don’t support the lgbt+ community, because that’s MY choice and MY opinion. I’m thinking for myself and nobody’s gonna tell me what I must think of anything! Exactly THAT is what annoys me the most! They all want to impose their opinions to me, with violence if it has to. They can’t even respect my opinion, but they expect me to agree with and support THEIRS??? Besides, almost the entire world is already supporting it all. Gay pride here, trans pride there. Those flags are everywhere! They’ve even got a WHOLE MONTH of lgbt+ pride now! Countless people praise and glorify - if not, worship - them and they’re gonna talk about oppression??? Come on, man! If it was all to have the same rights as straight people, to be equally treated as them, it would’ve been lgbt+ NORMAL, not PRIDE.

But that’s another story. What I’m REALLY ANGRY about, is THIS:

I LITERALLY have written on my page that I’m NOT homophobic or something alike. LITERALLY! And I’m not! In fact, I know quite a few gay people and I never got into a fight with them because of it. I may not agree with you on several things, but if you wanna be gay, go ahead! That’s not my problem. You do what you do, but let me do what I wanna do as well. And don’t go bothering me, telling me I have to find this normal and that normal... However, now even THAT isn’t enough anymore! I must support it or some people will hate me, apparently! Anyway, does this person really think I’m BLIND or something? Or PLAIN STUPID maybe??? Well, guess what... I’M NOT. I already had SEEN posts of this person about lgbt+ pride. Did I scold him/her? No. Did I talked bad words about him/her behind his/her back? No. Did I sent private messages to him/her in which I expressed my hateful feelings??? NO!!! But what I DID do, was following this person, liking his/her content and saying many nice things about his/her art. And then you go talking about me like THAT? I 100% don’t get it. Like, seriously, WHAT THE???!!!

Of course, after reading the (very personal) message, I immediately changed my laptop’s lock screen and background. How I wish I could delete this person’s page from my internet...

I thought it would perhaps happen in the future. The far future. But it seems it’s already reality today: you can’t say you’re straight anymore! Because that’s THE ONLY THING I did. My username: not-gae-cuz-i-like-straight-wae. Do I say I hate homos? (Yes, here we go again.) No! My profile picture/the name I use for my drawings: straight weh/straight wayzzz. Do I say I hate homos? Again, no! The title: this blog is not geh. Do I say I hate homos? Once again... No! The banner: hetero pride. Do I say I hate homos??? NOOOOO!

I SAID HETERO PRIDE AND IT APPEARS THAT BECAME AN ILLEGAL THING TO SAY. WELL, I’VE SAID IT BEFORE AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN: I FIND IT QUITE NORMAL TO BE HETERO, BUT I’M HAPPY TO BE NORMAL.

You know, I actually COULD feel oppressed for being straight now, because this person basically discriminated me for merely saying it! (By the way, there was someone else like that and he/she started to spam long texts and pictures in our private chat, saying he/she was streaming it to Discord. I’m pretty sure that isn’t even allowed! Eventually, I had to block that fool.) I’ve seen so many usernames that included “gay”, “lesbian”, “bi”, “trans”, etcetera, but when I include “straight” in my username, I’ve committed a terrible sin, according to some people! These things are seriously happening, but I still can’t believe it...

Someone choosing to be gay may be none of my business, but I also never said a hard word about it. Just that I DON’T support it unlike almost everyone else these days. And why would you give a darn crap about what I think, huh??? There are MILLIONS of people to back you up!!! Often, I only need to turn my head to see another lgbt+ supporter. I can’t even watch TV anymore without flags turning up on the sides of the soccer field or sometimes even in the stands! So what the FRICK are you whining about??? (Maybe I’m talking to you specifically, maybe I’m not, but I’m pretty sure you’ll know if I do.)

At first, I was shocked by the message and I gotta be honest, I was really SAD too. It came so unexpected and definitely not on the right day (my birthday, I’ll have you know... no joke, I couldn’t even celebrate it due to my school tests, but then I was taking a break after some studying and I do had to see THAT message). I suppose it hurt me more than it should have. But well, the longer I think about it, the more happy I am you showed your true self. The HORRIBLE and RUDE person you are. The truth is one of the most important things in life and I’m glad to have found it out once again. The last thing I want to say, is that I’m not hateful towards those you claim I am hateful to, but now, I DO despise YOU.

#you can f off yourself #stupid morron #i'm sorry y'all for having written a message like this #but some toxic person posted a very rude message about me #and i had to do this #i was just being friendly to this person #complimented him/her for his/her drawings #and then this #no #i won't accept that #if i'm being friendly to you #and then you post a message #addressed to me personally #as loathsome as that person's message #you will get it back #straight in you face #so please #don't be a jerk

3 notes · View notes

starlocked01 · 4 years

Text

These Words are Knives

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Virgil doesn't like being a secret boyfriend. He honestly just wants his soulmate to be able to be himself at home and at work. But has Janus ever been himself with anyone? Remus probably. But Virgil and Remus don't know about each other and that's about to become everyone's problem

Content Warning: Unsympathetic Janus, Swearing, Fighting, Capslock, Emotional Abuse and Manipulation

Day 28 Anxceitmus- A sentence appears on your arm each night recapping something your soulmate said that day. Modified so that it only shows up after you've met them in person.

"If you love me, let me go If you love me, let me go These words are knives that often leave scars The fear, the fear of falling apart Truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart" -This is Gospel Panic! at the Disco

"Oh yes, my girlfriend and I enjoy true crime shows pretty often."

Virgil sighed, staring at the golden letters glowing on his skin. It stung a lot to see his soulmate lie like this every night.

He turned over in bed to face Janus, "I hate your boss."

"Mmhmm, me too," Janus replied flatly, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.

"I shouldn't have to see this. You shouldn't have to keep me hidden from your coworkers," Virgil felt anger knotting at the bottom of his stomach. It truly wasn't fair.

"If he finds out I'm gay, he will fire me. I'm not having this discussion right now," Janus declared with a tone of finality.

"I'm not asking you to out yourself, I'm just upset about the situation," Virgil twisted onto his back and stared at the ceiling, "what does yours say?"

Janus gave an exasperated sigh and made a show of rolling up his sleeve before reading the shiny purple text, "'Oh my god, that would definitely have killed me!' Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse. Bit of an overreaction."

"Whatever, good night."

"Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Well, it wasn't a lie, Virgil is far too trusting of him for him to not mean it when he says he loves him.

Janus could remember back when they'd first met, Virgil wouldn't even give him his phone number. It had been a tedious process getting the anxious man to open up, and it was more than worth it to Janus. The problems only started when he'd met her.

Remus had been completely unexpected; Janus had literally run into her on his way to work. He panicked that first night the neon green script appeared on his arm opposite the purple text. Remus was also his soulmate and unlike Virgil, she was eager to know Janus.

Janus had made his decision to keep his second soulmate a secret the moment he saw the text, and now he sat like a spider atop his web of lies.

Janus glanced over at Virgil as he lay there, clearly not asleep yet, and started humming a lullaby that usually helped Virgil relax. The tension in his shoulders started to ease and soon he was snoring. Janus folded up the newspaper and took the disposable phone out of his nightstand.

R<3: heyyyy sexy i wanna c u tomrw ;]

He smiled and responded, keeping an eye on Virgil to make sure he was still asleep.

J: I agree, at our usual place?

R<3: !!!!!!

He quickly shut off the phone and hid it again before turning off the bedside lamp and rolling over to fall asleep. ---- Truth be told, it was simply easier to talk about Remus at work because they went by multiple pronouns. It also helped that they didn't immediately get suspicious anytime Janus brought them up. Virgil’s concern could be overbearing and it was just easier to stay under the radar of homophobic coworkers who would no longer respect him if they found out.

He didn't feel good about lying; it was survival. But he was good at it.

"Jan!" Remus waved him over as soon as he arrived at the restaurant. He smiled and joined them at their table, "it's been too long, why are you avoiding me?" Remus asked with a grin.

"I'm not, I just don't want to interrupt your work," Janus smirked, taking a sip of his water.

"What? You don't think I could handle you trying to distract me?" Remus laughed happily, leaning over to kiss their soulmate’s cheek.

They laughed and joked all through dinner, gossiping about coworkers, generally having a good time. The time got away from Janus and it was midnight before he realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh! I want to see what your soul mark says today!" Remus beamed, excitedly rolling up their own sleeve.

"You do tend to have quite… entertaining quotes," Janus' smile hid his irritation but he obliged, rolling up his sleeve as well, "'Why don't we eat the babies and call it Swifting?' Really, Remus? Do I want context?"

"You remember 'A Modest Proposal' by Jonathan Swift, right?" he giggled, reading his own quote of the day, "'Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse.' Huh…" Remus looked confused, "who's Virgil? You don't talk about him but I see his name come up pretty often."

"A coworker. He's not very pleasant to talk with but we often have projects together," the lie was smooth as silk. He knew this one would happen someday and had prepared.

Remus glanced over and saw a streak of purple along Janus’ wrist of his other arm, "what's that?" they grabbed Janus' wrist and pushed the sleeve up before he could protest. They read the words out loud, "'sup, fellow cryptids? I'm your host, Virgil Keir and it's time to talk about why you absolutely should run to the woods to date the Fae.' Wait…" Remus looked up knowingly, "Virgil is your soulmate, not your coworker."

"He can be both. Like I said, he's not easy to get along with-" Janus was sweating under his collar.

"I want to meet him!" Remus exclaimed.

"Why?' Janus was genuinely puzzled by their reaction.

"Hello! I love his youtube channel and you're my easy in! Plus he's your soulmate so he's gotta be important to you, which makes him all the more important to me," Remus grinned happily, "I swear I'm not jealous that you have two soulmates."

Janus let the comment slide past him, "I'll talk with him, but he's rather private. He may not want to meet you. I mean, he hasn't asked about you at all."

"Alright alright. Thanks, Jan!" Remus kissed him again, "wanna stay the night?" they asked with a wink.

"Not tonight, we both have work tomorrow and it's late enough already," Janus gave them a silvery smile while standing to pay the bill.

"Aw man, I can't wait to tell Stormy about this!" Remus pulled out their phone and was already texting with fire in their eyes.

"Who’s Stormy?" Janus asked hesitantly.

"Tumblr mutual. He's like the biggest fan of 'Mothman Mondays'. He'll be so stoked!"

"Ah- well have fun with that. Goodnight, darling," Janus left quickly. This needed to be contained. ---- Virgil stared at his phone in disbelief.

thotiestthoughts: stormy ull nvr guess!!

thotiestthoughts: my soulmate knows Virgil K!!!

Thoti was probably Virgil’s favorite fan, they messaged on tumblr all the time and had become quite good friends, but it was through his anonymous account not the official blog for his show. He debated how he would respond before typing back.

stormcloud07734: wow what a coincidence. r u secretly him? ;)

The best defense is a strong offense, right?

thotiestthoughts: !!!! im so excite!!!!!!

stormcloud07734: that means u must live pretty close to him

thotiestthoughts: u think hes in Orlando???

Virgil smiled. He knew he was in Orlando. But he had a better idea.

stormcloud07734: don't know about Virgil but im in Orlando. wanna meet up?

His heart was pounding. If this were anyone else but thoti he'd never consider it.

thotiestthoughts: OMG WHEN? RN?

stormcloud07734: how about tomorrow?

Virgil smiled at thoti's enthusiasm. They both picked a local cafe to meet in the afternoon and signed off for the night. Virgil didn’t even wait for Janus to get home before falling asleep. ---- Virgil got to the cafe an hour early. He could barely feel his own breathing as his heart felt like it filled his whole chest and stomach. What if he was wrong and thoti turned out to be a creep or stalker? What if he was never heard from again? He hadn't even said goodbye to Janus that morning. He tried to scroll tumblr to calm down, tried to research for his next episode, anything to distract himself from the anticipation and anxiety.

Remus couldn't wait to meet stormy and was practically bouncing around the back seat of xyr Uber. He'd given xem his phone number since they'd never shared photos and xe was trying desperately to not call before xe got to the cafe.

About a block away xyr phone started ringing. It was stormy.

"Hello?" Xe answered breathlessly.

An all too familiar voice answered xem, "hey, thoti, I know you're not here just yet but I have a bit of a confession to make."

"Virgil…" Remus was practically shoved out of the car by the driver as xe was paralyzed in shock. Xe looked up and saw the familiar pale face, purple hair with swooping bangs and dark eyeshadow smiling at him from a table in the corner, phone held to his face.

"Yup, sorry," Virgil hung up as Remus walked over, mouth agape.

"All this time?" xe asked, not ready to sit at the table with one of xyr favorite minor celebrities.

"Yeah, I kinda like participating in cryptid culture without being hounded about my videos," Virgil shrugged with a grin, "come on, sit down. I'm a lot more like stormcloud than I am like my videos."

"I'm Remus," xe stuck out xyr hand.

"Virgil," he snickered and pinched Remus' fingers with three of his own and gave a curt little shake. Xe laughed and sat down across the table, fidgeting with xyr hoodie strings. Virgil gave xem a long look over, "so your soulmate knows me?"

"Oh yeah, I kinda found out last night and asked him to ask you to meet me so if he brings that up, sorry. I just got really excited about it," Remus blushed in embarrassment, "hopefully Janus will be cool about it."

Virgil stopped mid-sip of a mocha latte, "Janus?"

"Yeah, our soulmate."

"You're his soulmate too? I don't believe you," Virgil shook his head.

"I saw both lines of writing on his arms last night, I'm sure of it!" Remus' grin began to falter, "but whatever, right? We're not here to talk about soulmates. I've been so excited to meet you."

"Hang on, how long?" Virgil demanded.

"How long what? My d-"

"How long have you been soulmates?" Virgil smacked the table.

"About 5 months," Remus looked down at the table. This was going terribly.

"Janus has been my soulmate for 2 years and he never brought up a second soulmate. I can't-" Virgil looked like something inside him was dying, "why wouldn't he mention you?"

"He- oh my god he doesn't want me around… and you probably hate me just for existing…" Remus looked up as Virgil laid a hand gently on xyrs.

"No. I don't hate you. We're going to get to the bottom of this." ---- Virgil sat in bed next to Janus who was preoccupied with a book. He didn't know how to bring up Remus and every moment he felt sicker and sicker in his stomach. The frequent fights, the talk at work about a girlfriend, the distance between them, when he thought about it he realized it had only really started 5 months ago.

Janus reached out to take his hand and Virgil instinctively pulled away.

"What's wrong, Virgil?" Janus asked sweetly.

"Don't touch me," he muttered just as the clock struck midnight. He glanced at the yellow text without bothering to read it, "I bet this one is a lie too."

"Virgil, what do you mean? You're acting suspicious," Janus’ mind was reeling. He'd forgotten what Virgil had said he was going to do that day and didn't expect him to be so hostile. He glanced down at the purple text on his arm and asked, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

Virgil started to reply when he saw a flash of green on his own arm. He looked and was surprised to find a second soul mark in a dark green scrawl. His phone was ringing and he didn't even need caller ID to know who it was, "are you seeing this too, Rem?" Virgil's eyes flicked over to Janus and narrowed, "a second soulmate, who could have guessed?" Janus kept his face impressively passive at the news and subtle accusation, "okay, see you soon."

Virgil hung up and glared at Janus who simply repeated, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

"You insufferable bastard! You know exactly who xe is, your 'girlfriend' our soulmate," Virgil scowled, ready to tear out a throat and leave the body for the wolves. He saw that Remus had texted him that xe was 10 minutes away. Janus had nowhere to run now.

"Her name is Remus. Why would I assume she was your soulmate or that you would give her such a disrespectful nickname?" Janus tried to steer the conversation in his favor.

"You're going to accuse me of disrespect? For the last five months, you have done nothing but lie to us and you're saying I'm the disrespectful one? You can't deflect your way out of this one, babe," Virgil felt his eye twitch. Remus better get there fast if he wanted both soulmates intact.

Virgil was screaming and beating Janus with a pillow when the doorbell rang.

"What the fuck? Is this a confrontation or a sleepover?" Remus burst in the door, finding it unlocked. He ran over and pulled Virgil off of Janus, getting a face full of feathers in the process.

"Oh just casual domestic abuse," Janus picked himself off the floor as Virgil struggled to get out of Remus' grasp.

"I'm going to make him pay, one way or another!" Virgil snarled.

"I don't know, Virgil, I think we can work this out," he blurted out.

Virgil stared at Remus dumbfounded, "you think what? Work this out? He's lied to you the whole time you've known him!"

"So did you," Remus looked down as if ashamed to say it out loud, "I thought you were stormcloud. I gushed about Virgil to you for hours and you never thought to tell me who you really were. I bet you even got content ideas from me and never had to credit them. So how is that different, if not worse, than Janus being scared of you doing exactly what you're doing right now?"

"You really think having an anonymous tumblr is worse than being manipulated for years? Is that what I'm hearing, Remus?"

"I think you're overreacting. I want to try and fix this relationship because we're soulmates and we should be able to make it work," Remus sighed, turning away from Virgil, "I'm not cutting anyone off."

"It's alright, Virgil. I forgive you. Let's figure this out together-"

"NO!" something snapped. Virgil squared up, facing the other two, "get out."

"Virgil," Janus took a step towards him.

"I said, Get Out."

"Oh, did you forget? The lease is in my name. I'm not leaving my fucking apartment. If you don't want to work with us then you can work on getting your own place to live," Janus’ look turned smug and cold as ice.

"Janus, don't kick him out," Remus looked as though he were about to spiral into a panic attack. If he'd just kept his mouth shut for once maybe-

"No, he's right. He holds shelter and food over my head to keep me in line so he can keep a secret fuck boy on the side and expects me to 'work it out' like I'm too scared to fend for myself. Fuck you," Virgil started to laugh with tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned and grabbed his backpack, walking to their room to grab as much of his stuff as he could. Remus followed him, holding Janus back from saying anything more.

"Virgil, please. I don't want to lose you," Remus pleaded softly.

"I thought you were pissed at me for being a liar on the internet," Virgil muttered.

"Maybe, but if I'm willing to forgive Janus don't you think I can forgive you too?" Remus held up his arm to block the door.

Virgil stopped with a heavy exhausted sigh, "I don't want your forgiveness. Remus, if you love me, let me go."

Virgil watched as a tear slipped down Remus' face and he lowered his arm. The rage that fueled him broke and he grabbed Remus in a hug. The other stiffened, uncertain, before relaxing and hugging Virgil back.

"I didn't want to leave you; I just can't stay with him," Virgil fought to keep his voice from trembling as much as his shoulders were shaking.

"I'll see if my landlord can add you on my lease… that way you don't have to leave?" Remus offered hopefully.

"That sounds like a thousand more nights spent screaming. Not a good idea," Virgil broke away from the hug, "thank you, Remus."

"You… you know how to find me if you need me," Remus laughed sullenly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry."

Remus only nodded as Virgil made for the front door.

"If you leave right now, you'll never see him again," Janus spoke from his place on the couch, wine glass in hand, and already half-empty in the short time Virgil spent packing.

"I know. Anything to keep me from fighting you, right? Just watch me find a way to be happy, asshole," Virgil spat before walking out without a second glance back. ---- "Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"No, you don't!" Virgil hissed, pushing himself away as hard as he could.

"Virgil, I know I'm not your soulmate but I am confident about my feelings for you," Logan looked confused and hurt but all Virgil could see was a cold, sly smile he'd tried so hard to forget. Reality started to blur and Virgil began to hyperventilate while the smirk leered closer, "Virgil, it's me, Logan. In for four."

Virgil focused on the calming voice and followed its instructions. After a few minutes, he could see Logan’s living room, feel the blanket tangled around their feet, the soft touch of his best friend pulling him back from the edge.

"Logan, I- I'm-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for," Logan held him close, resting his chin in Virgil’s hair, "you were clearly triggered. I did not mean to hurt you and your lashing out wasn't directed at me."

"But I know you aren't him, it's not fair for me to treat you that way," Virgil shuddered, pushing in to be as close to Logan as possible.

"Perhaps not, but I'm choosing to forgive it because I know this isn't easy for you," Logan smiled rubbing small circles on his back, "I will learn one thousand different ways to show you my appreciation and care if those three little words are ineffective and harmful to you."

"I don't deserve you," Virgil's voice was muffled as he buried his face in Logan’s chest to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

"No, you deserve so much more than I can give you, and you didn't deserve what happened in the past," Logan kissed the top of his head sweetly.

Virgil choked back a sob, "don't your soulmates hate me?"

Logan sighed, "no. They are happy together and I am happy for them. It has been a while since I've talked to either Patton or Roman, but I think they're okay with me finding you. Not every breakup is toxic, nor are all soulbonds romantic."

They stayed curled together like that on the couch for quite a while, the movie they'd been watching left forgotten on pause.

"Are you happy, Logan?" Virgil whispered, breaking the easy silence.

"With you, yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise I won't lie to you. I am happy with you, Stormcloud," Logan squeezed him tighter, trying to impart every ounce of his love with the application of force. He never wanted to be the one hurting Virgil, and if he ever met Janus or Remus, there was a baseball bat with their names on it in the corner.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #toxic anxceitmus #toxic anxceit #unsympathetic janus #platonic analogical #angst #hurt comfort #emotional manipulation #emotional abuse #swearing #fighting #this hurt so much to write

24 notes · View notes