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untaemedqueen · 3 years

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Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 32 (Final Chapter).

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hand Job, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Praise, Spanking

A/N: This is the FINAL, FINAL chapter.... Wah, can you believe it? This is so crazy! I'm so so happy that everyone has enjoyed Third Wheeling so much! Thank you to my forevers @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna for being behind me on everything about this series

The sharp whistle that Yoongi chirps, bleeds through the living room of the mansion.

His two year old son turns to him with round, curious eyes. His small hand is outstretched trying to pick up the million dollar vase you have on display on the coffee table.

"What're you doing, my little troublemaker?" Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around his son and throwing him up in the air.

Honggi squeals loudly, curling his arms around his father's neck like needy vines.

"Maya, please move that vase before Y/N has a fit." Yoongi whispers to the woman he's always admired.

"Yes, Sir." she giggles.

"Dada," Honggi squeals into his neck and Yoongi's heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, bud?" he inquires, tilting his head to look down at his son.

"Hungry." his son breathes.

"Mommy's making food, let's go see." Yoongi chirps, running his large hand over his son's small back.

Taking in the new mansion, Yoongi is really happy with it.

He didn't bring over a special architect from Greece, he didn't fawn over the marble this time around. He let you pick the house.

And like always, you're incredible.

The house isn't particularly gaudy like the last one which he shared with his ex-wife. It's warm wooden interior and gray and white furnishings scream home. And that's what Yoongi always needed -- a home.

Although, anywhere with you is home, he's noticed.

The wings that spread out far and wide throughout the house have pieces of art that make Yoongi feel comforted and he's astounded everyday by how thoughtful you are.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and it rips your husband out of his daydream.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble." you sing, slinging your towel over your shoulder.

You extend your arms over the quartz island for your son and Yoongi is incredibly cautious.

"Be careful, please," he begs.

You give him a sweet nod, accepting your son into your arms and Honggi leans over the pot curiously.

"Cow?" he asks and you snort loudly.

"Yes, beef." you reply, wiping his chin with your thumb.

"B-Beef," he repeats and Yoongi beams.

Honggi isn't one to stay in anyone's arms for long, despite how much he adored being held as a newborn. He wriggles almost immediately to get down and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth cautiously.

"Watch mommy's belly, please." he yelps, setting your son on the floor.

"Jesus," he bleats, kissing your cheek.

"It's okay," you promise him, bending down to fix your son's black hair.

Honggi hugs your neck tightly, kissing your cheek so sweetly that it turns you into a puddle of love.

"What should we name your brother and sister?" Yoongi inquires of your son as he leans both elbows down on the island.

He pops a grape in his mouth, looking at his kid expectantly.

"Pororo... Poby!" Honggi giggles, swaying back and forth.

"Oh yeah, good idea! We can name them after penguins!" Yoongi teases, giving his son a grape.

"Poby is a polar bear." you inform him, stirring the stew.

"Yeah daddy! Bear!" Honggi scoffs, tugging on Yoongi's pants playfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry daddy doesn't know what anthropomorphic animals his son watches while he's at work." your husband murmurs.

"An-Anth-Anthr… Animals!" Honggi gasps and you laugh gently.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, allowing the comfort of being surrounded by his family to enrapture him.

He steps behind you, wrapping his arms around you and your growing stomach.

"I missed you today, little dove." he breathes, kissing your temple.

"You miss me everyday," you state, turning around in his grasp.

"That's true. Because I love you." he coos, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I love you too," you giggle, accepting the kiss he gives you.

Since Yoongi became a father he's learned so many things like patience and showing love to his child, the likes of which his younger self never got to see. He wants to give his family the entire world if he can, he wants to give all of you everything you could possibly desire because it was so terribly lacking when he was a kid.

"Dinner isn't going to be ready for a bit." you tell your family.

"But I'm hungry now!" Honggi cries, throwing his head back in a dramatic two year old fashion that both of his parent's laugh at.

"Okay. We'll have yogurt and go play with the Gaesu until Mommy is done cooking." Yoongi announces, picking up his son and slinging him over his shoulder.

"I love you mommy!" Honggi squeals.

"I love you too, bub." you reply, kissing his forehead.

"Give mommy's belly a kiss before we go." your husband instructs, patting his son's backside.

Honggi kisses your growing stomach and you can only snort at your husband's silliness.

"Okay. Now dada!" your son says, clapping.

The CEO kisses your stomach and then your forehead.

"You're gonna wrinkle your suit." you chide him, leaning back against the counter.

"So worth it." he retorts, giving you a gummy smile.

Two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

There has, of course, been hard work that's been poured into your marriage whether it be for Honggi or just to be able to spend time together but the honeymoon phase has never truly died down.

You bask in each other's company like lizards under the hot sun.

You thrive when you're both together.

It's fate, really.

"He's asleep," Yoongi announces, stepping into your bedroom.

"Oh, nice. It only took two hours instead of three like yesterday." you know you sound sarcastic but it's really true. Honggi never seems to be able to sleep when he needs to, he's hyperactive in waves and thoroughly enjoys spending time with his father.

"Well tonight we read the big bad wolf and then he got scared so I had to calm him down and stay with him until he finally fell asleep." your husband rambles, peeling off his clothes.

You hum in agreement, sitting up gently.

Yoongi's tattoo of the large family tree on his bicep seems to shine in the dull lights of the room and it makes a smile spread over your face.

"How are my other babies?" he inquires, laying down beside you on the bed.

It's no secret that you adored your son and it's no secret that Yoongi wanted you pregnant almost immediately after Honggi was born. He missed your big belly and the closeness it brought the both of you when you were pregnant. But after Honggi was born, your paintings were flying off the art exhibit walls like hot cakes and you needed time to create new works of art.

While your husband had his tantrums and gripes about it, he understood. Being pregnant is difficult and he knows that, so when you told him he had to wait, he begrudgingly accepted it.

Your art was on hold now, with over two hundred pieces out in the world at any given second, you decided to focus on family.

"They're okay," you promise, running your fingers through your hair.

You can remember when you found out you were pregnant again for the second time. All of your symptoms hit so much harder than the first pregnancy.

"Baby? We gotta go. We're gonna be late." Yoongi calls, peeking into the bathroom.

He didn't expect to find you heaving over the toilet but when he does, two things happen simultaneously. There's a sharp bout of worry and a thinner vein of excitement that spread through his bones.

"What's the matter, my dove? You feel sick?" he pouts, entering the bathroom to rub at your back.

You shiver gently, waving your hand to the large gray cabinets beneath your sinks.

"I'm not a mime, I'm sorry." your husband whispers, raising an eyebrow.

"Pr-Pregnancy test," you plead.

He could just about pass out and die from happiness from those two words.

"Really?! You think so?!" he beams, ripping open the doors and tearing open the cardboard box like some sort of rabid animal.

His hands are shaky when he gives you the test and he helps you off of your knees immediately.

His thumbs rub at the tile indentations on your kneecaps and like always he stares up at you like you hang the moon on a string for him each and every night.

"I'm sorry we're late." you whisper, blotting your mouth with toilet paper.

"This is way more important. Fuck that. Jeongguk can wait." Yoongi avows, watching you cap the pregnancy test.

"We probably aren't even going to make it there anyway," your husband breathes.

"Why not?" you inquire, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

The CEO wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "Because if you are pregnant, I'm gonna have to do some celebratory stuff."

You laugh aloud, running your fingers over his arms. "Stuff like what?"

"Like eating your pretty pregnant pussy and fucking your pregnant cunt." he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver at his words, glancing down at the test.

You hope you are pregnant. There's something insane in women's brains which makes them forget just how painful childbirth is so they can always look forward to more.

But the euphoric feeling of having a baby is well worth the pain, that's something you'll always remember.

"God, I think you are pregnant." he hisses, running his hands over your sides.

"Why do you say that?" you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

"You just feel different in my hands."

"I think you're crazy," you retort with a laugh.

"Why?!" he gasps.

"Because you didn't say anything yesterday when we… y'know."

"When we fucked?" he goads, kissing you softly.

You hum in agreement against his lips and he snorts softly.

"You did feel warmer around me." he announces, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"It should be ready." you inform him, both of your eyes glued to the face down stick.

"Go on, show me that my baby is in you." he urges, kissing your temple.

Your heart races and your fingers begin to shake as you flip over the stick.

Yoongi holds his breath and you find yourself doing the same.

When you flip it over, the plus sign screams at you and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Your husband groans happily, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

"Thank you baby, thank you!" he cheers.

When he sets you down on the ground, you can't help the thrilled giggle that seeps from you.

"Should we head out?" you ask your husband softly.

The scoff he gives only seems right. "Yeah, right. I have more important things to celebrate than a boxing match."

You can only squeal when he scoops you up bridal style.

Putting his head on your shoulder, your husband takes a deep, calming breath.

His fingertips dance over your distended skin and his lips traipse over your exposed collarbone.

"You're so gorgeous," he breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The smirk that spreads over your face is goofy and flushed, sometimes you find it astounding that he can even be so sweet with you.

There's a tiny kick beneath his fingertips that makes his head lift off of your body.

"What are you up to in there, guys? Fighting or something?" he gawks, feeling another flurry of taps below his hand.

"They don't have enough room," you announce, lolling your head back to the pillow.

"Well, just four more months and you won't have to be cramped anymore." Yoongi promises, sliding down the bed to kiss your belly.

"We should sleep, we have plans for tomorrow."

"Caleb's first birthday party." Yoongi remembers, drifting his lips over your skin.

You nod in agreement, tucking your hand beneath your head to get comfy.

Your husband knows just how difficult it is for a woman with a set of twins inside of her to fall asleep and he's nothing if not doting.

"Lemme put my babies to sleep," he murmurs, sliding his fingers over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

It's fascinating how the Kisung CEO can make you feel as if black coffee pumps through your veins even when you're completely exhausted.

He watches you avidly, making sure this is something you're up for. When your nipples begin to pebble and strain under the flimsy nightgown that can barely contain your swollen flesh, Yoongi knows he's got the green light.

His eyelids lower with lustful intentions and the tip of his tongue glides slowly over his plump bottom lip.

He knows you're excited for anything and everything when your hips lift expectantly.

Clicking his teeth, he pushes your body back down to the bed. "Easy now, little dove. You should know who's in charge here, baby."

Your whimper sounds like the most earnest plea as it passes through your parted lips and Yoongi can feel his cock straining against his briefs for some semblance of relief.

He kisses at your clothed pussy, already feeling how sodden the material is getting in a matter of seconds.

It continues to astound him, two years in, how willing your body is for him.

"Daddy," you breathe softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

His hands caress whatever he can find whether it be your thighs, your belly, your breasts.

"Wet little slut for me." he murmurs, tugging your panties off with his teeth.

You're quick to discard your nightgown, wanting nothing more to be touched anywhere you can get it.

Your husband hums at the sight of your core, pussy lips puffy and swollen with greedy intentions and slick with arousal.

"There she is," he breathes, kissing over your belly.

Palming your breasts in hand, you understand why he's taking so long -- to drive you insane.

He wants euphoria and adrenaline to course through you like wildfire so when it ebbs away, you'll be completely exhausted.

"My beautiful dove." Yoongi professes, spreading your legs wider.

Your eyes are glued to his abs, the way the muscles contort and constrict with each shallow breath he breathes.

You can thank each and every god everyday for the man you're married to.

You know the hierarchy in this bedroom, it rarely ends up with you on top, but the temptation of his thick, hard cock straining against his Balenciaga briefs has you throwing all cares to the wind.

He hisses gently against your distended skin when you cup his long length with your hand.

Yoongi will be the first to admit that he's missed this. He's been sweet and caring, not wanting to trouble you for sex with you being as huge as you are. He knows two babies are way more difficult than just Honggi. But, he needs you. In every single way.

"Play nice, my dove." he chides you softly, kissing up your belly to your swollen breasts.

You don't heed his words, tugging down the band of his briefs and swallowing thickly when his large cock bobs in the air before smacking up to his toned honey stomach.

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling and you know you've neglected him for too long. His cock is throbbing and needy as sin, beads of precum endlessly spurting from the top and slowly traipsing down the head.

"Baby girl," he gasps when you pump his cock in hand.

Yoongi kisses over your puffy nipples, scoffing at the pleasure that vibrates through him with each jerk.

He coos softly when you bead milk for him and his eyes snap to yours. "You didn't tell me your milk came in."

"I-I didn't know," you chirp, pumping his cock harder.

He shivers then, wrapping his lips around your peaked nub and tugging softly. He groans happily at the distantly familiar taste of your milk and his needy hands grip and massage your thighs as he situates himself further between them.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out gently, arching your back.

The tip of your husband's tongue is quick against your sensitive skin and you can only whimper for more.

Your shaking thumb runs circles over the swollen, red mushroom head of his cock and he gasps above you, pressing his forehead into your breast.

"Ba-Baby, this is about you. Please," he begs, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You give a smirk, feeling high and mighty at how quickly you can break him down to a mere lustful animal.

Your free hand rubs circles to your stomach and he can just about cum at the sight of you.

His cock throbs wildly and he forces your hand off of him with narrowed eyes. "Behave, little dove. I won't say it again."

You hide your smirk, laying back down for him.

He eyes you wearily for a second before continuing his dissent on your body. His fingers caress over your sodden lower lips and his name tumbles from your mouth with a quickness.

"You're messy." he prods, spreading your lips with his fingers and tapping your throbbing bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers.

Your body jolts, bottom lip tucking between your teeth.

God, you've missed this.

You've missed him doting on you so eagerly.

Yoongi continues to take his time, enjoying how your entrance clenches around nothing.

You're a needy little thing and you're all his. The way it should be.

"Daddy, please!" you beg, rubbing circles over your distended skin.

"What's wrong, beautiful? You're too much of a slut to enjoy this? You want gratification now?" he quips, lowering his head to your core.

You can't even see him over your belly and it drives you absolutely mad. You can feel the puffs of hot, needy breath that pass his lips but it does nothing but earn more dripping arousal from your center.

"Such a pretty pussy you have," he purrs, suckling your swollen lips.

You gasp loudly, screwing your eyes shut.

He plays with your entrance, swirling the tip of his index finger around it until your racking with sobs above him.

Yoongi presses the tip of his tongue to your throbbing clit and he groans gently at the feeling.

"Shhh, my dove. Daddy is going to take care of you, I promise." he avows, lapping at your nub with slow strokes.

It's so pleasurable, but it's not enough. You're on the precipice and he keeps you there for what feels like eternity.

"God! Daddy, please!" you beg, bunching your hands up in his hair and tugging.

He hums in fake confusion, adoring how your body shakes before him.

He's good at the long game.

He thrives in it.

When he slips two fingers inside of your slick cunt, you're about ready to burst but he pulls away from your core with a devilish smirk.

"My pregnant wife is so needy," he jeers, curling his fingers with ease to the soft patch of nerves within you.

Your chest constricts, heaving for breath. Your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat and you feel yourself possibly going insane within his grasp.

Picking his face up between the apex of your thighs, the sight of his soaked chin and cheeks hurdles you to the precipice.

"Wanna cum, need to cum!" you chant, cupping your belly while you grind yourself down onto his fingers.

"You hold it," he orders sweetly.

You can only scoff and the animalistic pride within you snaps.

You sit up, as quickly as you can, before pushing him down on the bed.

"Baby," he warns you, pulling his fingers from your heat and entering them into his mouth.

"I need it!" you whine, straddling him.

His hands immediately hold your hips to protect you from any imminent danger you might face. He goes to chide you but when your soaked cunt glides against his hard, thick length, he can only take a sharp breath between his teeth.

"I missed your cock Daddy, I missed it so much," you whine, rocking your hips.

"Oh Christ," he murmurs, gliding his hands from your hips to the globes of your ass.

With every rock of your hips, your clit thrums pleasantly at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding against the bundle of nerves.

Your shaky hands grip at your breasts, swiping your thumbs against your leaking nipples until your sobbing with pleasure.

"You're so gorgeous, fuck," Yoongi curses, enraptured with the sight above him.

Your eyebrows furrow and you're losing yourself in the pleasure as your mouth drops open.

His hands knead at the supple flesh of your backside before rearing back and spanking you with a fierceness that you adore.

"Yes, more!" you gasp, sitting up and positioning his cock at your entrance.

"You're a little cock slut, you know that?" he seethes, leaning up on his elbows to kiss at your belly.

"Your cock slut, Daddy. I'm yours," you whimper, slowly sitting down on his length.

His mouth opens at the euphoric feeling of your warm, wet cunt sliding down on him and he can only fall back to the bed with a heady thump.

"Shit," he breathes out, looking up at you like you give him the universe.

You do.

You give him everything and anything that exceeds his expectations.

You take a second to adjust to his length, preening as the head of his cock prods against your soft cervix.

"Good girl, little dove." he bleats, running his fingertips over your outer thighs.

Yoongi can see the way you swallow thickly and he can tell how fucked out you already are with your eyelids being as heavy as they are and pride blooms in his chest.

"Want you to suckle," you beg, palming your breasts.

He can only scoff at the arousing thought, he's up in a flash, minding your stomach. His lips pluck and suckle at your sensitive skin until you're shaking like a leaf under his ministrations.

"Your cock feels so big in my pussy, feels so good," you purr, rocking your hips.

He moans against your breast, gripping your hips with needy hands.

The rhythm you set as he suckles from you is slow but the impending orgasm you've been denied comes back in waves. The head of his cock taps against the sweet spot inside of you with each jolt of your hips and you're losing your grasp on reality.

"D-Daddy!" you gasp, letting your brain free of any thoughts besides just how pleasurable he feels inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take what you need from me." he announces, laying back down.

Your hands push down on his chest as you begin to pick up speed and he can only cry out your name like a man possessed.

"Jesus, just like that, little dove. Fuck!" he curses, spanking the globes of your ass until your skin is smarting.

Then you feel the precipice again, you feel yourself teetering.

Your mouth opens to give a silent scream and your eyes well up with tears.

He coos softly, running his fingers through his hair as if the pleasure he's receiving is truly unbelievable.

You groan loudly, pressing your hands beneath your stomach. "I'm-I'm-"

"Cum for me, little dove. I can feel how badly your cunt wants to milk my cock. Cum." he orders and your gasp echoes throughout the room.

Your hands rub comforting circles to your stomach while your hips rock at an unfound speed.

"Yoongi!" you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then -- euphoria.

Your orgasm explodes within you like a million shards of glass. With deafened ears and tear streaked cheeks, you don't even feel your husband lay you down on your back.

He fucks his cock so deeply inside of you that it brings you back to reality in waves.

"God, you look so beautiful taking what's yours, baby." he coos, sitting up.

You can only cry out gently when his strokes become erratic and deeper.

"You want me to cum inside you? You want to drip with me?" he inquires, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You nod incessantly, spreading your legs wider when you feel his cock throb within you.

"Yeah? You want to be my little cum slut? Get so full of my cum when you're already pregnant with my babies?" he seethes through his teeth.

"Y-Yes, want to feel your cum so badly," you hiccup, running your hands over his chest.

His eyes screw shut when your hips meet his every stroke.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming. God, your cunt is incredible!" he whines.

His hips give one last thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible before the warmth of his cum floods through your battered core.

You hum happily, rubbing your belly.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down and planting a passionate kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." you reply, hooking your hand around the back of his neck.

After cleaning you up and situating yourselves back to normal, Yoongi pulls your body to cuddle against his. His fingers drift over your bare back and he sighs happily.

You're out like a light in mere seconds when you finally get comfy and he can only chuckle at your shallow breaths.

His hand comes to rest beneath his head and he can't begin to express how lucky he feels.

His attention falters to your stomach when he feels a gentle prodding against his hip. He smirks, kissing the top of your forehead and closing his eyes.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and you know better now than to rush to him whenever he shouts for you.

"Yes, baby?" you call to him, fixing your earrings.

"Want to play with Yumi!" he calls, peeking into your bedroom.

"We're going to see Yumi now." you reply, turning to him.

Your eyebrow raises as you look at your husband's spitting image. "Where are your shoes?" you ask your two year old.

"Dada said I don't have to wear them!" he beams, rolling on the floor with your corgi.

"Oh yes you do, you're not going over to Aunt Leena's house with no shoes on." you reply.

When your husband steps into the doorway, he knows he's made a mistake. Just the look you give him makes him want to run and hide.

"What?" he bleats.

Min Yoongi is obsessed with giving his son whatever he wants. He's obsessed with spoiling him and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy.

"He needs to put on shoes." you tell your husband.

Both of your boys frown at you and it's almost so ridiculous that you can barely contain the eye roll.

"Why?" Honggi chirps.

When you place your hand on your stomach, Yoongi nods. "Mommy's right, you need to wear shoes."

He's quick to avoid chastisement today.

"But why, dada?" your son inquires.

You love the 'why' phase… when it's directed at your husband.

"Because your little feet are gonna be cold and because mommy said so. And what did I tell you about when mommy says something?" your husband whispers conspiratorially to your son.

"That you do it! Mama has two babies a-and mad isn't good for babies!" Honggi says, sticking up two small fingers.

You can only snort, shutting the bathroom light off and leaning against the door frame.

"That's right, bud. So let's get you some shoes."

When your husband goes to leave the room, he widens his eyes apologetically at you and you can't help but giggle.

"Silly," you mumble, grabbing your purse.

Caleb's first birthday is a huge deal.

You know how much work his mother put into it and you know that it needs to be over the top and perfect for her to be thriving and happy with the day's events.

"Miss Thing!" Leena gasps, throwing herself out of the door to hug you.

"Hi Beena," you giggle, wrapping your arms around her.

Taehyung is right behind her with a smile plastered on his face.

"Happy birthday Caleb!" you gasp, taking him from Taehyung's arms.

Yoongi kisses your best friend on the cheek before looking over at her one year old son.

"Hey buddy! Happy birthday!" your husband cheers, watching as Caleb tucks his face into your neck.

It's always astounding to see how much of a one eighty Leena has done when it comes to Taehyung and her family.

You remember how adamant she was on not getting pregnant and not getting married but then when you gave birth to Honggi -- she wanted that.

And you completely understood it.

Now that your best friend is married and having a family, you can see how content and happy she is. It's something you're really proud of.

"Everyone is in the backyard." Leena announces, fixing Caleb's small suit.

"Yumi?!" Honggi screeches, looking past Taehyung.

"Yeah, Yumi too." Leena's husband quips with a laugh.

Yoongi snorts, following after his son.

"Miss Thing, I have to tell you, I would have never in a million years thought we'd see him today." your best friend blurts, guiding you into her mansion.

"Who?" you inquire, handing Caleb back to his father.

Leena's hands clamp down on your shoulders and her eyes widen. "Jin."

"Shut the fuck up," you gasp, pulling her towards the backyard.

There are a multitude of people in the backyard but your eyes find his tall, handsome stature easily.

He's standing by the fountain with his wife by his side and he looks in his element.

It's been months since you've seen your other best friend.

You aren't really sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth. You know he's probably been busy, you all have been.

But you know Leena has taken it the hardest. Jin has always meant something deeply to her so when he didn't return phone calls or texts… you know it burned her.

It's almost as if he feels your eyes on him the way he turns to look at you.

He gives you a warm smile, immediately leaving his wife to make his way across the large backyard.

Yoongi notices how your eyes get glassy when he looks away from Honggi and Jimin's daughter, Yumi. "Jimin, watch him." he orders, leaving to comfort you.

Now, Yoongi doesn't hate Jin, by any means. He respects him and in all honesty, appreciates him for helping him in his dire time of need.

But the CEO will be damned if he doesn't coddle you, his pregnant wife, to his side when you're emotionally distraught.

Seokjin is wary when he sees your husband loop his hand around your hip protectively.

"Shhh," Yoongi coos, hearing your gentle sniffles.

Leena on the other hand, just folds her arms, widening her eyes expectantly at your best friend.

"Hey guys," he bleats, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"That's it? All we get is a 'hey guys' from you?" Leena scoffs.

Jin blushes furiously, cupping his whisky tighter in his hand. "What do you want me to say, Beena?"

"How about a sorry, Kim Seokjin? That'll be the start. Then you can veer off into how apologetic you are for pushing us into the background for her." Leena sneers, nodding her head to Sera.

You take in how nervous Jin is and you absolutely hate it. You hate how small he's making himself look.

"I am sorry." he agrees, grabbing for your hands.

"Maybe you guys should take this inside," Taehyung whispers, looking over the party guests who have stopped their conversations to look over at all of you.

Leena doesn't even give an answer, only trudging back into her mansion with narrowed eyes.

Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly, walking with his son towards Jimin and Anna.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yoongi inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

You nod immediately, wanting the comfort of your husband with you.

"Alright, my love." he promises, kissing your temple.

Seokjin chases after Leena and you can only sigh at the impending yelling you're about to hear.

"Miss Thing, please sit." Leena gushes, pointing to the couch inside the library.

You take a seat, watching Jin wade back in forth nervously like he's waiting for a scolding.

"Did you know that Y/N is pregnant again? That she's having twins?" Leena spits.

"Yes, I did. I'm very happy for her and her husband." Seokjin replies, helping you sit down.

Yoongi pours himself a small glass of scotch, draping his arm over your shoulders.

"Do you fucking understand how sorely you've been missed?" Leena inquires to the handsome man as she sits down across from you.

Seokjin clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, I-I do."

"Then where have you been?" you prod, folding your arms.

Your best friend leans back against the large wooden desk. "Listen guys, I've missed you guys so deeply. I need you to know this, okay? I'm sorry that I've been absent from your kids and your lives. I've been dying to spend time with you all."

"Okay. Then where have you been?!" Leena yelps, repeating your question.

Jin takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I've been trying to start my own family. It's not easy! I've been taking Sera all over the world to different doctors and hospitals to try and see why she can't get pregnant! I've been depressed and down on myself until recently. I'm fucking sorry I abandoned you guys but I needed time to heal my heart."

The news resounds in your ears and you cuddle closer to your husband who rubs your shoulder with his thumb soothingly.

The smugness is wiped off of Leena's face within a second.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she whispers softly.

Jin's fingers card through his hair and with a frustrated huff, he lolls his head back.

"Because it's…it's heartbreaking and not what I want to bring to the table when you guys have families and lives already. I don't want to burden you guys with my troubles." he mumbles, spinning his wedding band with his thumb.

You take a sharp breath between your teeth, standing with the help of your husband who urges you to be careful.

"Jin," you whisper, hugging him tightly.

He stiffens at your touch before wrapping his arms around you. He sobs gently, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I did miss you guys, so much. I'm sorry," he cries loudly.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from us. You should feel comfortable to tell us anything and everything. I'm sorry if you didn't trust us enough with your worries." you murmur into his ear.

"No! I just… I was scared, I didn't want to trouble you both." he breathes, pulling away and cupping your face.

"Jinnie," Leena pouts, standing up and hugging the both of you.

"You're never a bother to us, don't ever think that." you coo, fixing his hair.

He takes a deep, calming breath, running his hands over your belly. "One of your kids is kicking me in the ribs." he mumbles.

You can only giggle, patting your eyes with a tissue.

"That's the least you deserve for not trusting us with your fears," Leena scolds him gently.

He nods, exhaling sharply until his cheeks are puffing out.

"So is she?" your best friend asks him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Is she pregnant?" Leena inquires.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, tilting his head. "Something like that."

Your eyes drift slowly over the perfectly manicured lawn watching Honggi offer to share a toy truck with Yumi. His smile is the spitting image of Yoongi’s and it makes you sigh happily. You lean against the arm of the lawn chair, resting your hand against your cheek.

You can barely believe how happy you’ve become over the past two years.

Everything just falls into the right place, everything just fits like a perfect complete puzzle.

Honggi turns to you, flailing his hand wildly and you can only giggle. Waving back, your heart expands to the size of the universe.

Yoongi laughs at something loudly, drawing your attention. You watch him sling his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and you can only snort at the sight.

You can remember when you never heard his laugh, you didn’t know what it sounded like for quite a while and then… once he began to laugh, it never seemed to end.

That’s something you revel in, your husband’s happiness is yours well.

It gives you great pride to see him beaming from ear to ear. And you don’t think it often but -- you got him here. You got him to this state of happiness.

It’s your best artwork, yet.

“Hey Y/N.”

You look away from your husband to the one person you’d never thought you’d speak to.

“Sera… hey,” you breathe, looking up at her flawless form.

“H-How are you?” she inquires, sipping her water nervously.

You haven’t seen here in two years. She looks good, that isn’t hard for her. Something about her seems calmer and more poised then when you knew her.

“Can I sit?” she asks gently, running her hand over the back of her neck.

“Please,” you insist, sitting up straighter.

You can feel eyes on you and you can only imagine who it is but you don’t dare look away from the actress before you.

While you weren’t her biggest fan, she’s made Jin happy over the past two years and you can’t fault her for that. He hasn’t loved anyone since Leena and you can see that his heart has bloomed since being with this woman.

“No drink?” you quip, pointing at her water.

“I thought, y’know, since my surrogate can’t drink then I shouldn’t either.” she shrugs.

You don’t know what to say if you’re being honest. It must be a sore subject…

“Yeah-” you breathe awkwardly.

“I’m not upset about it, we can talk about it.” she announces, putting her hand to your shoulder.

Sera in all the time you’ve known her has never touched you and you’re surprised at how normal it is, honestly.

“I’m sorry that you… y’know… you’ve had a difficult time.” you say honestly.

You can’t imagine how hard Sera and Jin have been trying, how many hospitals and specialists they’ve gone to, how much heartbreak they’ve gone through.

“At least I’m getting a baby at all, right? I always used to be so angry about the whole situation… Maybe that’s why I was so mean to you.” she admits, carding her fingers through her long, now blonde hair.

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at the dusky sky. “I mean it mustn't have been easy for you either. I came into Yoongi’s life and flipped it upside down. You were comfortable with the situation and I just spun things around like a top.”

“Well… yeah, true. But if you didn’t come into Yoongi’s life then I wouldn’t have been able to become a better person and find the person that’s right for me.” she avows, looking over at you.

Her words resound through you and your eyes widen just the slightest bit. She’s really different these days, huh?

“Well, I came over to say I’m sorry for treating you terribly the whole first time you were pregnant, it was in bad taste and I was so selfish back then that I couldn’t begin to understand how horrible that could be for you.”

“I accept your apology.” you reply, giving her a small smile.

She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her body go lax in the chair beside you. “Oh good, I was so nervous to talk to you. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something.” she gasps.

You find yourself giggling and she snorts softly.

“You’re kid is cute,” she comments, watching him run over to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, widening your eyes at Honggi curiously as he stops in front of you.

“Mama!” he cheers, holding up his paint covered fingers.

“Yes, baby?” you murmur, pushing his hair back.

“I’m painter like you! Look!” he squeals, tugging your hand.

You look over at Sera apologetically, standing up to follow your son.

“It was nice to see you Sera, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” you call back to her.

She smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave goodbye.

Jin could have done worse.

Lowering your head, you look at the picture that your son has painted. The fingerpaint is thick and blobbish but you can see a few distinct shapes that stick out to you.

You don’t say anything at first, letting him finish a few small details that he thinks are important. He gives you his gummy smile, seemingly proud of himself and it makes you smile too.

“It’s very nice, baby. I can see how much work you put into it.” you coo.

“It’s mama and dad, Honggi and baby!” he beams, picking up the picture which is almost too heavy for him with all the paint on it.

Your husband sweeps in beside you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek and taking the painting out of your hands.

“Mommy is having two babies, not just one.” Yoongi reminds him, pointing at your stomach.

Honggi nods fervently, opening and closing his small hands demanding the picture back from his father.

Your husband snorts gently, lowering the picture for his son. You can barely contain the ridiculous giggle that tries to escape you as he draws a black circle next the one already painted.

"Two!” he cheers, sticking up two of his paint covered fingers.

“Good job, bud.” Yoongi chuckles, kissing the top of his head.

“I saw that interaction. You okay?” your husband inquires softly into your ear.

You hum in agreement, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head down on his shoulder. “Better than okay,” you murmur, feeling his lips caress over the top of your head.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi inquires, pulling over the car.

You can’t help but laugh at his worried expression. “He’s fine,” you promise, putting your hand on his knee, “we can go out on a date without him around us all the time. Maya’s got it. Honggi loves her.”

He shuts off the engine, turning to you with a pout spread over his face. “I just miss him, I didn’t get to read him a bedtime story.”

Your heart is warm and you can’t help the giggle you give. “It’s our anniversary, besides it’s just for a few hours.”

He picks up your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Happy anniversary, little dove.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.” you reply, with a smile.

The inside of Magic Shop is pristine like always, you’re so surprised that Jin has kept it exactly the same as two years ago. He always loved to change things up but you realize that he probably got so busy since you’ve last been here, he probably hasn’t had time for anything.

The music is quieter than normal and there isn’t a soul in the club. Which makes you understand immediately that Yoongi rented the whole place out.

“You shouldn’t have,” you hiss, giving Hyun a small wave.

“Of course I should have, you deserve the world, baby. Plus, loud music isn’t good for the babies,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

Your eyes immediately land on the black velvet curtain and the memories of first meeting Yoongi flood through you like water.

“Thanks,” your husband murmurs, grabbing a whisky from Hyun.

When you pull back the curtain, you can only smile at the same leather booth from that fated day.

“Jesus, it even smells the same in here.” Yoongi breathes, running his fingers over the top of the couch.

This room holds so many memories for you but nothing beats the one with your husband.

“God, it’s like it was yesterday. I can still remember that black dress you were wearing,” your husband chirps, sitting down in the same spot he did two years ago.

He pats his lap, setting down his whisky onto the floor and you’re absolutely gobsmacked by how much this feels like dejavu.

“I’m a little big,” you murmur, sitting down slowly.

“Never, you’re gorgeous, little dove.” Yoongi coos, wrapping his arms around you.

His warm hands caress your practically bare thighs and when he looks at you, you can see the sheer love and devotion in his eyes.

“My little dove,” he breathes, drifting his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

You can remember just how smoking hot you thought this man was, how intrigued you were by him in an instant. You remember every single second of your time in this back room. You remember every minute of your days when you found out you were pregnant and how absolutely scared you were.

You can remember his good times and his bad when he was working out his feelings about you.

Nothing has left your mind and you treasure each and every memory -- because they make up who you are. They make up your life.

And it’s perfect. Because you have him.

“You were a good girl that I wanted to break so badly,” your husband announces, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Well… you did that,” you quip, humming when he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, little dove, really. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me such a wonderful family,” Yoongi gasps.

“Thank you for opening up to me and showing me that our love could blossom into something as perfect as this.” you reply, running your fingertips over his arms.

When he lifts his head, you can see how glassy his eyes are with tears.

“God, I love you, little dove.” he whimpers.

“I love you too.” you reply, kissing him softly.

His lips are plush and soft against yours and you can feel the tears that careen down his cheeks until they’re soaking into your skin. He’s so gentle with you, drifting his hands from your back to your distended stomach.

“My wife,” he chuckles, capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “my beautiful, gorgeous, powerful wife who has given me enough love to last eons. I love you so much, little dove, it hurts me.”

There are one hundred and fifty eight ways to say ‘I love you.’ And, they all pertain to Min Yoongi.

He’s a gentle soul and a loving husband that holds high standing with billions of people worldwide. He is sweet, wonderful and a perfect man at the end of the day. And now, everyone sees this side to him.

In the media he is praised and renowned for being a fantastic father and an equally fantastic husband. And to you, nothing could ever be more true,

It was March 23rd, when you saw him and met him. You tasted the finest of liquors and smelt the smoke of the richest Cuban cigars.

It was March 23rd when your life had truly begun.

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykrueger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #final chapter #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #ceo!bts #min yoongi #yoongi smut #pregnant smut #bts fic

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kaypeace21 · 4 years

Note

ignoring the fact that they sound like a married couple arguing, mike and will are also bickering over whether or not el and mike are still together. it was written in the script, rehearsed, performed, and kept in the final cut that will OUTRIGHT SAYS “she said she dumped your ass, that doesn’t sound like a break.” and max yells “it wasn’t!” :@;$:@/&$:&:??!?! they literally said they’re not endgame. they aren’t endgame.

i KNOW right! Based on the s4 movies I think things are reversed and it’s El who can’t accept they are broken up. A lot of films said to inspire s4 have ex gfs refuse to accept the break up -one even hits on her gay ex-bf ( ‘birdcage’ ). Similar scenario in ‘clueless’ with girl hinting on gay guy who just wants to be friends. Max in s3 having to correct El that Mike is her “ ex boyfriend” and Will saying “that doesn’t sound like a break”. And Max agreeing “it wasn’t!” is foreshadowing they never actually got back together. IT WASN’T A BREAK! But El may not accept this.

It’s similar, to the random telemarketing joke where they had Mike say on the phone “El, sorry not interested “ and hang up . It was foreshadowing.

In the films the exes constantly call . Mike telling El “i’ll call so often you’ll have to turn your walkie off” was also foreshadowing of what Mike will do to her in s4. Since ,he hung up on her in s3 when she called demanding to know where he was at 9:30 in the morning. In ‘swingers’ the guy name mike (whose friends call him ‘gay’) hangs up on his ex gf who wants to get back together . He hangs up on her so he can talk to his new love interest (Will) . Specifically, Hangs up on his ex as she says “I love-“. Then in ‘splash’ he breaks up with his gf on the phone and says “do I love you?well what about you?” To dodge the question (then yells at a family member ease dropping on the other line -Karen). And they break up on the phone. And he tells a friend later he never loved her.

2 movies the ex says they’ll get back together and their new relationships are “just phases” etc ( waynes world, high fidelity, dumb and dumber). Saying they’re still together when they aren’t (wayne’s world). Loads of movies had the crazy ex sabotage new relationships, call constantly, stalk, and flirt despite the exes discomfort and repeatedly saying it’s over (despite the ex not loving them and just be possessive and not wanting them with other people).

The exes are cray in the films (el stalking and never apologizing for spying. And mileven dancing to the song ‘every breath you take’ a song about a stalker ex who doesn’t take no for an answer -after their ex hooks up with their friend, wasn’t a coincidence). Along with El watching ‘days of our lives’ where she mimicked erica who was in a relationship with Mike roy. And it ended messy with one of them sabotaging their new relationship, stalking them, and claiming the stalking victim still loved them. (Although, they eventually accepted that wasn’t true).

El stalked Mike in s2 (all that stuff milevens found romantic- El watching him without him knowing. Mike said he was not ok with it in s3). And in s3 (like the song) she stalks him after their breakup, and when he said not to do that she just says ‘i make my own rules’. I think s4 shows just how ‘un-cute’ this behavior can get.

I’ve already talked about that awkward kiss scene to death. But i think it indicates Mike assumes they’re broken up and el assumes they’re back together.

FIrst he LIED AGAIN (the cause of the breakup)- and pretended he didn’t confess to her at the end of s3. And never said “ I love you’ back! He even tries to take the words back and says about the prior love confession “ “Oh! Oh, yeah that.Man, that was so long ago. Um…” and starts to scratch his head and says everything he said at the cabin was “in the heat of the moment stuff and we were arguing…”

They even frame the scene right before the kiss strangely, making El look larger and imposing, as she approaches. Mike feels cornered (you the viewer subconsciously are supposed to feel claustraphobic/trapped/cornered/stuck along with Mike).

We see him furrow his brows (uncomfortable and confused ) when El initiates the romantic moment, saying “I love you too.”

And cue most awkward kiss in history- where he keeps his eyes open the whole time and doesn’t kiss back. (In Will’s room, mike in front of an open closet, as el holds Will’s s1 bear.)

During the kiss, the song ‘the first i love you ‘played. The only other time they played that song in s3, was when Robin rejects Steve’s romantic confession and she comes out as gay . Interesting choice for that awkward mileven kiss/confession shown later where El says she loves Mike (and mike keeps his eyes open, doesn’t kiss back or return the ‘I love you’). It’s foreshadowing of Mike rejecting El (in the future) cause he’s gay.

We even see El’s reaction first (happy, smiling and giddy). Assuming they’re back together. But then we blur the screen to see Mike’s opposing expression. He looks confused, bewildered and even furrows his brows again.

Then we see El initiating all the romantic stuff outside.El seems to be the one trying to make it romantic- like Mike hugging el and lucas with one arm identically (hand on their upper back), but El caresses his chest.

And as Mike stops the hug El shoves his head into hers (it actually looked like it hurt honestly XD)

the byler centric ending with the Hopper monologue reinforces this theme. Mike while looking at both cars driving away was thinking of Will . They show this by having Mike be sad as Will drives away (alone) twice as Mike sadly watches him leave- this was done to show that he’s actually upset the 2 later times where Will and El leave at the same time -because of Will. I showed it in one of my vids here, at 23:11

When we first see Mike during the Hopper monologue , it continues to pan to only Mike and Will (not El) cause what he says is mostly about them. “I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like you’re pulling away from me or something” (Will does this both figuratively/literally). I miss playing board games every night (d &d)”. Then Mike looks back at the Byers house (he just lingers there and looks back as his friends leave without him) like how Will turned to watch Mike leave and hold hands with El (as the crew go up the hill without Will). “But I know you’re getting older, growing, changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change.”

It pans to both of them on “i don’t want things to change’ cause that’s how they both feel. Mike , ‘doesn’t want things things to change’. He doesn’t want their friendship to change as they ‘get older’ because he’d have to and acknowledge his feelings for Will are romantic and if he’s “being honest” that “scares” him (especially in rural 80s conservative-Indiana at the height of the aids epidemic). Why we see Mike trying to act like a adult while dating El, and Will trying to act like a kid- they’re both trying to escape growing up to be gay in different ways. Will reverting to childhood activities and saying he’ll ‘never fall in love’ (after his double date with lumax). And Mike trying to act like “old people’ saying “we’re not kids anymore... what did you expect that we’d never get girlfriends?” Cause he equates straight romance with being an adult and his feelings for Will as something he has to grow out of . Which he learns in the very end isn’t possible.

Right after that scene it switches from Will crying, to Mike entering his house. His face is visibly red from crying and he looks shocked (almost as if he realized something) before he hugs his mom- to mirror the time he thought Will died in s1.

And the dialogue in this scene says “So I think maybe that’s why I came in here, to try and maybe stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were.” He goes back to his mother for comfort, like he did the 1st time he lost Will. But also to reverse back time, to s1, before he realized his feelings for Will are romantic. When things were simple. I think the last episode is when Mike truly realizes he’s been in love with Will this entire time and he can’t fix it and transfer his feelings for Will on to el (something he’s been trying to do all of s3). El said he loved him and he felt nothing-and he was heartbroken over Will leaving (not El). Which is why he just seems almost shocked/numb as he’s processing this fact. This whole scene only showed Mike and Will transitions- el was never there, cause Mike wasn’t upset over her.

In the last ep (in s3) Mike mirrors the scene in s1, hugging his mom, since he feels like he’s losing Will all over again. In s1 the romantic/queer coded lyric from the song ‘We can be heroes’ plays as he hugs his mom “And we kiss as though nothing could fall. And the shame.”. And during the s3 move (‘we can be heroes’) plays again! And David Bowie wrote this song and Jonathan even said to Will in his ‘being a freak is the best speech’ “who would you rather be friends with David bowie (a queer singer) or Kenny Roggers?”

It’s why finn wolfhard after s3 liked this byler pic. cause s3 was all about Will and Mike denying their feelings for each other.

Not to mention,After s1 Finn quoted the Duffers saying Mike thought of El as a “puppy’ (dart) or “et” , and then said Mileven was a “first summer love thing”- foreshadowing mileven’s downfall during the Summer (aka s3). He repeats this “first summer love” phrase 2x. Millie when he mentioned what the duffers said rightfully thought the puppy thing was “awful”, but Finn was clearly told mileven doesn’t last -very early on- and most likely the Duffers told him “it’s like a first summer love thing”.Summer love” by definition fails-as it only lasts during the summer.

#byler #byeler #anti mileven

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honeyvbarnes · 4 years

Text

I’m Baby

Pairing: Stucky x Reader … hehehe

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of anxiety, polyamory, sexy times but no actual smut.

Summary: Love is a crazy thing.

A/N: This was supposed to be a Steve Drabble… oops. Sorry I couldn’t resist. :-) This is my first Stucky piece soooo feedback would be very much appreciated! And thank you to @mypassionsarenysins @mushyjellybeans for helping me out! Love you!

Small but violent. Petite and sassy. When you first joined the world renowned Avengers, you’re teammates described you as such. Peter would often say that you “looked like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill someone.” It was your cute and cuddly nature that granted you the nickname Baby. Everyone on the team called you this and you loved it. Especially when it came from your captain.

Steve took a special liking to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your kind heart, or your undeniable beauty, but he knew he was in trouble every time you snuggled up next to him. At first, Steve often worried about the age difference, but you’d often remind him that he couldn’t necessarily date someone his own age even if he wanted to. The way your persona would interchange from sexy deadly assassin to cute and giggly baby, truly astonished him. Your youthfulness distracted him from the blood filled life you two lived in, he was grateful for your love. Due to your small stature and him being quite *ahem* large, he truly dwarfed you. Some days when he’d stress over reports in his office, you’d climb into his lap and lay against his chest, whispering sweet words, or hum a soft tune to ground him once more.

You loved all your teammates all the same, and as your relationship with Steve blossomed, so did your friendship with his best pal. Bucky loved you just as much, maybe even more but he’d never admit it. He often grew worrisome over his ongoing crush he had on you, but he’d remind himself just that. It’s just a crush. Everyone pretty much had a crush on you, he thought, even Natasha. You were like a breath of fresh air to the team. Sweet and adventurous, always bright with a positive attitude. Your skills leveled as being just as sly and smart like Natasha, and your knife work and marksmanship was almost as sharp as his own. You were perfect in his eyes, and he’d hope in Steve’s eyes too.

It became a habit of yours to stick by Bucky’s side while Steve was away on a mission. It was rare that neither you nor Bucky weren’t sent on the same mission with the captain, but when the time did come, you’d be a nervous wreck until he arrived back safely.

Bucky, the ever devoted friend, distracted you from your anxiety. He’d take you to all your favorite spots in the city, train with you (and let you kick his butt), and he’d watch all your favorite movies until you fell asleep in his arms.

Steve was away on a month long mission, with Sam and Wanda. Both you and Bucky spent every single day with each other, trying to busy yourselves until your teammates returned. The dynamic between you two stayed the same, and you’d gotten into somewhat of a routine. In the late night when you’d finally let sleep take over, Bucky would carry you to your room and tuck you into bed. Sleep rarely paid him a visit when Steve was away, because while you were worried about Steve, he naturally was just worried about you.

“Buck?”

He heard your soft voice with the creak of his bedroom door being opened.

“Yeah Doll? What are you doin’ up?” He asks sitting up. He looks at you standing in the dim light of the hallway and you’re wearing one of Steve’s shirts, the material ends just right above your knees, and he smiles at the little fuzzy socks you have on.

“I- I can’t sleep. Too nervous.”

Without another word being exchanged, you made your way to Bucky’s bed and climbed in. He freezes at your actions and he physically feels the shift of your friendship. This is new to him. He’s not necessarily sure what Steve would think if he knew he’s got his girl in his bed, half dressed nonetheless. A small palm on his chest brings him back from his thoughts.

“James, please tell me everything is going to be alright.” Your voice is soft, your hands pull him to lay down with you.

“Okay baby, okay.”

Bucky holds you all night long, he whispers old lullabies to you, in Russian because he knows you understand, and when your breathing matches his own, a sense of loneliness washes over him. You are not his girl, but you are giving him a glimpse of what it would be like if you were.

Steve arrives back to his room in the early morning, much before the sun has a chance to rise. The bed has clearly been slept in, but you’re no where in sight. At first his heart drops, his mind going straight to the worst case. Bucky, he thinks. Bucky would definitely know where you are. Steve gently pushes open the door of his best friends room, and he is met with an unfamiliar sight. There you are, he sighs in relief, yet something twists deep in his gut. Your sleeping form is tucked tight on top of Bucky’s bare chest, both his arms holding you to him protectively. Steve is shocked, but not at the scene before him. His shock comes from, well the lack of. His gut feeling isn’t something of negativity, yet it is heart warming, his love for both his lover and best friend doubles in size and he almost tears up. He’s never seen Bucky sleep so peacefully, and he can’t help but smile at how small and precious you look cuddled up with him. Steve knows he loves you, and he loves Bucky, but maybe its all one in the same?

Love is a crazy thing. It’s overflowing and pure, and sometimes it can be twisty and overwhelming, but love has never been monogamous for you. As your love grew for Steve, it also grew for Bucky, and you were just lucky they were on the same page.

After much persuasion and begging, mostly on your part, Bucky agreed on the arrangement. He was new to this type of relationship, and didn’t want to intrude on what you and Steve already had. He knew he loved Steve but he loved you all the same.

Love is a crazy thing, all three of you know that for sure.

“Buck? You in here?” Steve steps into the dim light of the compound gym.

He sees Bucky immediately. He’s destroying a punching bag. Each blow creating tears, and it looks like its about to fall apart at any moment. The angry whirls of his left arm fill the silent room. Bucky is fully aware of Steve’s presence, but decides to ignore him just a little longer.

“Buck, come on. What did that bag ever do to you?” Steve steps forward, not phased by the heaving man in front of him. A gentle hand on the shoulder, and Bucky flinches. He’s trying to ease the inevitable pain, but the former winter soldier takes losses a little too personally. It’s not that they lost exactly, there were just a couple of more casualties than there should have been. No one was at fault, luck was just not a factor.

“Leave me alone Steve.” Bucky grits.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” He finally turns to Steve. Eyes rimmed red, face flush with shame, and eyes swirling with guilt. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault, pal.” Steve tries, taking Bucky’s right hand in his. His knuckles are bleeding, and Steve applies pressure.

Bucky returns the gesture with a tight hold.

“I know. I- it’s just haunting. I’ve caused so much bad in this world, Steve. It feels like it’ll never stop. I close my eyes and all I see is red.” Bucky allows his walls to crumble, tears streaming steady. Pushing his face in Steve’s chest letting out sobs, as arms circle around him tightly. Steve knows theres nothing he can really say to change Bucky’s mind on how he feels, so he holds him. He lets him cry out all the pain, plants kisses on the top of his head, and whispers apologies. He feels sick that he can’t physically take this pain from him, so he does everything he can to soothe him.

“Stevie? James?”

The small voice startles them, not realizing someone had entered the gym. Bucky’s head shoots up, away from Steve as he takes you in, and Steve turns to greet you with a sorry look.

“Baby! I- I’m sorry. It’s late, you should be sleeping.” Bucky tries desperately to wipe his tears away, to compose himself in front of you.

The scene before you shatters your heart, and both men know it. It’s not that they’re here without you, but it’s the moments like these they try to hide from you. As if the darkest moments aren’t meant for Baby’s eyes. They are dead set on being your protectors, and you know Bucky tries to hide his anxiety and nightmares from you, as if it’d scare you away.

“James, come here.” your voice makes him soft, and he kneels in front of you. Arms of flesh and metal grab your waist almost frantically as he struggles to keep his panic attack at bay. You start to card your fingers through his hair, and tell him everything will be alright. Steve joins after a moment, kneels right down with Bucky.

“We’re here James, we love you.”

The pride that swells in both Steve’s and Bucky’s hearts is tangible. Mostly on missions when you show your alter ego. The team makes some joke over the comms like “Wheres Baby?”. On missions you’re focused, deadly even. The way you carry yourself is the complete opposite of your everyday persona. Baby is nowhere in site as you throw yourself into any fight. Steve had helped you with tactics, and Bucky helped you improve on hand to hand combat. Your talents truly shine through, on every mission.

“Jesus Y/N! You’re going to give us a heart attack!” Steve yells from the top story of the crumbling building you’re in. There’s an old man joke somewhere stuck at the back of your throat but you swallow it as you climb out from under the rubble.

“Oh calm down Stevie! Like you’ve never fallen down a couple of stories of a building!” You yell.

“Y/N, you scared us!” You can see Bucky already climbing down to come help you.

“Oh no guys, they’re calling me by my government name. I’m practically dead, start planning my funeral.” You tease.

“Alright, if everyone is okay down there it’s time to get out. The building is ready to blow!” You hear Sam’s voice filter through.

You know you’re in no real danger when you’re on missions with them. Your enhanced skills are just a plus when you have two Super Soldiers in love with you.

“James? Could you help me for a sec?” You’d call from the kitchen.

“What can I do for ya Baby doll?”

“I can’t reach the bowl from the top shelf, would you be a peach and get it down for me?” You ask with a sweet kiss to his chest.

Bucky looked down to you with a bright smile and a chuckle. He’s fully aware that you can very well climb the counter to reach it, but he knows you love playing baby.

‘Of course Doll, I got it.”

With a kiss to the top of your head, you turn to finish preparing dinner.

“Somethin’ smells good.” Steve’s voice filters the small room and you smile. Excited for both of your men to be home, you run and jump into Steve’s open arms.

“Welcome home Stevie! I made a real good dinner today, I found one of my mama’s old recipes!” You cover his jaw with excited kisses and you feel a hard chest at your back.

“She’s been slaving away in this kitchen all day, Steve. I’m so proud of our baby.” Bucky greets Steve with a kiss, then places a kiss to the side of your neck. The sound of your giggles fill the air and both men bask in your joy.

“Alright sweetheart, lets enjoy this amazing dinner you made.”

The three of you know that this is just temporary. A leave of absence, a vacation in your eyes. The harsh missions and bloodshed taking a toll on your lives and your health, a break was very much needed. You could’ve chosen the luxury of sandy beaches and resorts, but when asked where you wanted to spend the time off, you simply replied with “home.” The domesticity of it all warmed your heart like nothing else on this earth. Playing housewife was a dream all in its own, and you just wanted them to feel like they had a home with you. Being from a different time period agitates them on occasion, knowing they missed out on living normal lives. So you try your hardest to show them that they can still have that, they have a home.

Tony’s always the first to make some sort of Sugar Daddy joke. You think its funny and you like to tease Steve and watch his blush grow from his neck to his cheeks. Bucky on the other hand teases you, because he knows you enjoy calling him Daddy.

Both men spoil you to no end. On your days off they’ll take you shopping, bags upon bags filled with clothes, jewelry, and lingerie. It’s a dream come true really. You’ll pick out new shoes and pants for Steve, because he’s dead set on his casual dad look. Bucky will ask for your opinion on every single little thing he chooses. He’s got a very modern biker model look going for him and he owns multiple leather and jeans jackets that you absolutely adore him in.

Broad chests press both to your front and your back, leaving you breathless. Strong hands roam your body as if it’s a map, that they’ve memorized. Love is overflowing from all three bodies, conjoined with the need for one another.

Steve has always been a gentle lover. In some cases he’d get a bit forceful, usually after a stressful mission, but normally he worships you. From your head to your toes, there is not a piece of your skin left untouched by his lips. Completely addicted to the taste of you. Steve knows you’re strong, but he makes love to you as if you were made of glass. Like you’d break under him and he’d lose you if he was too rough. It’s not something you dislike, you love it actually. The way he takes care of you makes you feel wanted and truly loved. He holds you tight, whispers praise, and doesn’t stop until he knows you’ve been satisfied, at least more than three times.

Bucky is the complete opposite of Steve. Yet he is gentle with you, he’s an adventurous lover. The gleam in his eye can set you afire from across the room. He’s needy, and he’ll take you anywhere he pleases. The thrill of it excites you and his stamina is just as great as Steve’s. Bucky knows all your kinks. He knows when you’re in the mood to be spanked, choked, and downright used, and he happily obliges. He knows you’re a feisty little one, and being rough with you pleases him just as much as being gentle does. Bucky likes trying new things with you as well, and he thinks it’s hilarious when you seduce Steve into agreeing into something new, because he’ll get flustered and blush uncontrollably so.

Together they make you feel like a goddess. The contrast of the two sets your nerves on fire, hot flames run through your veins, and every time you swear it can’t get any better, but it always does.

Both men shower with you with affection, you simply drown in their love. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for you. You’re their baby after all.

Taglist: @pinnedandneedled @perpetually-tuned-out @stuckonjbbarnes @rayche776 @sebbbystaaan @the-wayward-robot @captnrogers @chloerinebarnes @valkyriesryde @captain-kelli @stateoflovinged @mushyjellybeans @bitchassbucky @an-adventureland @imma-new-soul @mypassionsarenysins @rumoured-whispers @mrwinterr @elizzysnow13

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Stucky #stucky x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fic #marvel

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Great Expectations

Chapter 4 of The Spring He Came Back | 4 of 12

Hinamori found herself spacing out in the middle of chores for about a month now. She would be cooking miso soup, and her mind would trail to their conversation on the hill. She would halt in front of the daffodil meadow on the way back from the market and reminisce in the midst of stalks yet to flower, counting down to the third month. She also stopped going to the library because of a growing resentment. If she didn’t bring Hitsugaya there, he wouldn’t have found the book, and he wouldn’t have left. She wondered if she had the right to feel this way, to feel like she lost a friend or a family.

The money from Hitsugaya’s generous allowance came in every end of the month through an academy representative. Baba’s refusals fell on deaf ears, but Hinamori knew she was grateful for the financial support.

True to his promise, Hitsugaya sneaked out of the academy on his third month and met Hinamori on the meadow. He saw her black tendrils flowing with the yellow petals. “Oy, Hinamori.” For a time, it would seem that the gears were running in normal shifts.

This went on for the next three years. Hinamori was given glimpses of his newfound life – of an increasing circle of friends that consisted of a noisy Rangiku, stubborn Rukia, and glutton on steroids Renji. For every encounter, their childhood memories and laidback banter on the yellow field were being replaced by tales of his experiments and model construction with Dr. Kuchiki, the culture shock to the life of the brightest, and the cutthroat competition in academia. For every encounter, he seemed more and more different, but he never let these get the best of him. After all, his silver hair was still shaped like a broomstick, and he still challenged her to watermelon eating contests.

Their meetings stopped when he had to participate in an overseas internship in Karakura. Monthly letters replaced his physical presence until there were none. Exasperated because of her growing loneliness, Baba assured her it was the natural course of things.

“As we grow older Momo, we form a lot of bonds. Some becomes the foundation of our nature and identity while others are circles at certain phases of our lives.” Baba gave her a cup of black tea with a dash of honey, her favorite brew. “There comes a point we grow out of those circles and seek the next set of bonds. The rarest of all, those bonds that accompany you forever.”

“I thought we were his family, Baba.” There was a burning feeling behind Hinamori’s eyes, and she felt a headache forming.

Baba stared at her wistfully and tucked a loose tendril behind her grandchild’s ear. “If you’re so adamant to keep those bonds, why won’t you walk beside him?”

Hinamori shook her head vehemently and slapped her palms on the table. “Baba! I will never leave you. Please stop saying that!” Some of her black tea spilled. “Besides, the academy is invitation-only, remember?”

“Momo my dearest and only, I’m almost 70. I’ve lived a good, full life so far, and I want you to live like that as well. I don’t want you shackled by your past or be burdened by taking care of me. The world is bigger than this town,” Baba chuckled to herself as she took a sip of her tea. “Besides, I have reliable neighbors who will take care of me. We have a telephone now so we can always communicate. Wondrous technology. Oh but you have to teach me.”

“Baba, stop it. The academy is not accepting low-tier students like me.”

“Oh Momo. Just throw it out there and the world will right itself.”

Baba’s wisdom never failed. When Hinamori became 15 years old, the academy opened its gates to the common folk. The complaints about accessibility and inequality probably got to the administration. Investments in the town kept pouring in, demand for residential space was increasing, the clamor to enter the academy regardless of social status eventually gained traction. While the invitation and referral arrangements still existed, the opportunities leveled through general admissions. Well, not quite. The examinations were grueling, and the interviews were tricky to answer. They asked outright for research proposals and the field of specialization one was interested in. On top of her head, Hinamori stated her concentration on terrestrial ecology. Actually, she just wanted to create perennial daffodils so their meadow would be yellow all year round, no matter the season.

Hinamori passed the screening. General admission passers were granted wider freedom but lesser privilege. They were not restricted to stay in the dorms and had normal class schedules that didn’t involve laboratory and experiments on weekends. On the downside, they were provided lesser amount of allowance (good for family of three) which Hinamori was still thankful for. They weren’t also allowed to venture into the buildings of the core members. From her initial grant, she bought a bicycle to make her trips faster and quicker across opposite end of the town. It was an unstable feeling, landing on shifting grounds, but soon enough, she found her balance.

I’m in. I’m inside the academy’s gates. It was an exhilarating feeling of great expectations and humble beginnings.

Only 100 students were admitted in the winter. Amid the flurry of post-inauguration activities, Hinamori saw the familiar silver hair sticking out like sore thumb in the middle of the crowd.

He’s not supposed to be here. He was accompanied by three people trailing behind at a safe distance. She presumed they were the three Rs – Rangiku, Rukia, Renji. On Hitsugaya’s arms was a bouquet. “Oy, Momo.”

Her cheeks were flushed red. She wished she wore her hair loose instead of a bun because it had started to snow. “Broomstick Shirou-chan.” Was he taller when she last saw him? Silly, he was gone for two years.

“I just got back from my internship in time for your inauguration.” He handed her the bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, fully blooming in winter. “Congratulations.”

“Oh, I’m still taller than you,” Hinamori blurted out. “Oops. It was supposed to be a personal observation.”

“You know what, give me back the bouquet.”

“But it’s true! You probably still have the same height!”

“Momo, give me the bouquet back.”

“Won’t.” They both laughed it off, unaware of stealing glances from his company.

“Oooh is she the one you’re always writing letters to, Hitsugaya?” the blond-haired girl asked. “How sweet! Childhood sweethearts!”

“Shut up, Rangiku!”

“Oh no, we’re truly not-“ Hinamori started, but she was immediately cut off.

“Childhood sweethearts?!” the red-haired one yelled. “You mean to tell me this was fate? Wow, I’m so jealous.”

“I’m literally right here, Abarai.” The black-haired kid who was almost the same height as Hitsugaya was probably the least intense of the group. “I’m Kuchiki Rukia, by the way.”

Well, her surname certainly is, Hinamori thought. “I’m Hinamori Momo, Shirou-chan’s childhood friend.”

“Shirou-chan?!” They collectively egged him on, laughing at his clear embarrassment.

“Momo, stop using that nickname!”

Hinamori inhaled the clear scent of pine and camphor trees, reminding her of Baba cozy with her stacked fireplace and of stored jams in their pantry. She can’t wait to tell her Hitsugaya’s back. With the mended symbol of their bond on the crook of her arm, she entered the new phase of her life. Shifting grounds and great expectations.

-------

“Please greet Dr. Sousuke Aizen. He’s one of the foremost molecular biologists outside of Soul, and we are privileged to have him teach here. He will be your professor for biology. Keep in mind that you are arranged by your specialization, and he will be your mentor until you graduate in the academy,” Dr. Unohana, the academy director, announced to a class of fifteen.

Hinamori already outlined ten distinct thesis proposals in her first week. She made headstart on her readings too, already halfway on their given references for the year. If she was going to reunite fully with her friend, she needed to be a core member, and she will work hard for it.

Then, the name finally registered in her mind. Sousuke Aizen. The author of the most recent book she borrowed from the library which was also her inspiration for her thesis topics. She was engrossed with his theories, his writing style, and argumentations that she borrowed all his related books. If she was a radiologist, he was her Marie Curie. Sousuke Aizen was her teacher.

He had a magnetic presence, demanding all eyes on him. It was difficult not to notice him with his broad figure and soft tussle of dark brown hair. If eyes could smile, then he had those, albeit hidden behind square-shaped spectacles. His authoritative stance and the emanating kind disposition were confusing and difficult to compromise.

What an interesting person. Hinamori thought herself perceptive of people’s personalities based on her first impressions with them. That wasn’t successful with Hitsugaya though.

“So, should we start, or would you like me to immediately dismiss?”

It also perked up her interest that he was comfortable enough to teach without a lesson plan in hand or books. He would just talk conversationally with his students and still cover a multitude of topics. He wasn’t the stiff professor that Dr. Kuchiki was. Her classmates would seek him out after classes, asking him to join their group dinners. When she attended once, he noticed she wasn’t talking.

“Hinamori, are you still uncomfortable with your new learning setting?” Dr. Aizen asked. He gestured to refill her now empty teacup, and she obliged him with a nod. “I’ve heard you mostly got your knowledge from reading. Impressive.”

She blushed at the compliment. “I try to do my best, Dr. Aizen.”

He placed his cheek on his hand and stared at her. “You know, I also came from a rural area. Made it hard for me to mingle with the central town brats.”

Brats. She laughed at this sudden connection. “I’m also trying on that area, Sir. I made friends, but they’re on the other side of building.” Was it safe to share that?

“Oh, you have friends from the core Soul group? Fascinating. That means you’re really interesting Hinamori.” He smiled at her, tapping the empty tea pot. “You can talk to me anytime. My office is open for any concerns, academic or otherwise. I want you to know I can be on your friend list.”

The fact that he related to her situation made her happy. A renowned professor with the same roots as her still managed to get to the top. She felt seen. By the end of the semester, Hinamori volunteered to be his research assistant.

NEXT CHAPTER | 5 OF 12 | WANTING VALIDATIONS

#hitsuhina #hitsugaya toshiro #hinamori momo #hitsugaya #hinamori #momo #bleach #bleach couples #fanfiction #anime fanfiction #TSHCB #aizen

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lets-talk-appella · 4 years

Note

If you have time can you do the “You’re not mature enough to be a parent.” - “Try me.” prompt.

This is like… more than a year later. But! I feel that we all need some fluff right now, so here you go, with a small modification.

Bounding

Summary: Domestic Bechloe fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: G for gross amounts of fluff

Ao3 and FFN (posted as a chapter in a series of prompts)

Chloe stares atthe pile of soggy, smelly laundry in the washer in disbelief. She blinks once.Yep. It’s definitely been sitting there. For several hours, judging by thecrumpled state of their clothes.

That’s when theannoyance sets in.

“Beca!” she shouts.

“What?” Becacalls from deeper in the house.

“Did you forgetto move the laundry again?!”

The ringingsilence she gets in return is all the answer she needs

After having beenmarried and living together for two years, it’s safe to say the honeymoon phaseis wearing off.

With a growl,Chloe reaches into the washer and tries to extract the clothes, which cling toeach other and the inside of the machine with stubborn tenacity. A whiff oftheir damp odor wafts into her nose and she cringes; changing her battletactics, she shoves the clothes back into the washer and slams the door closedso hard it makes the machine rattle. Muttering angrily, she wrenches open thelaundry cabinet and, in her haste to find the detergent, knocks over severalbottles of various stain removers and carpet cleaners, some of which crash tothe floor.

She groans outloud and stoops, collecting each item and shoving it back in the cabinet,knowing the lack of organization will annoy her later but not bothering to carenow. She untwists the cap of the detergent and, not paying close enoughattention to her task, pours far too much into the measuring cap and spends thenext few seconds pouring it back into the bottle. Of course, some trickles downthe side of the bottle and leaves a sticky blue mess.

Clicking hertongue in annoyance, Chloe tugs open the machine’s soap drawer, pours thedetergent into the slot, then slams the drawer closed. Her movements sharp andquick, she screws the cap back onto the detergent untidily, causing even moreof the soap to run down the sides of the bottle and onto her hand. With a huff,she wipes the bottle and her hand clean with some tissue and slams thedetergent onto its proper shelf so it knows what it’s done. Kicking the laundrycabinet door closed, she pounds her hand on the washer’s “start” button, whosecheery wash cycle jingle only worsens her temper.

Chloe blows astrand of hair from her eyes.

Is it really thathard to remember to switch clothes over to the dryer in a reasonable amount oftime? Or, is it so hard to do the dishes? Or, heaven forbid, put them away? Achore that Beca had neglected all week. Beca’s been neglecting lots ofhousehold tasks, now that Chloe thinks of it. Vacuuming, bathroom cleaning,studio organizing, meal prep. In fact, Chloe can’t recall a single thing Becaactually has helped with recently.

Chloe clenchesher jaw. They’re supposed to be a team.They’re supposed to work together to maintain house and home. They’re supposedto slow dance while cooking. They’re supposed to throw socks at each other whenfolding laundry. They’re supposed to trade kisses while passing one another inthe hall, one armed with a broom and the other pushing a vacuum.

But no. It’s beenChloe pulling both of their weights around the house, doing all the chores,while Beca sits behind her laptop mixing and doing who-knows-what, a veritableBeca Show while Chloe slaves away.

And she’s hadenough.

Gritting herteeth, Chloe barks out, “Beca! Where are you?”

A briefhesitation, then a small sounding, “Studio,” comes from Beca’s generaldirection.

Chloe snortsderisively. Of course. She stomps toward the study, moving quickly throughtheir kitchen and dining room and into the hall. The door to the studio roomBeca has claimed as her workspace is open a crack already, but Chloe stillflings it open. She holds onto the handle so it doesn’t ricochet off the wall(the last thing she needs right now is a drywall hole to patch) but it stillhas the desired effect; Beca stares at her from her desk, eyes wide andstartled.

“Chl—”

“Beca, what thehell?”

“I—”

“I had to restartthe washer because the clothes you leftin there started to mold.”

Which isn’tstrictly true. They just smelled kind of bad. But still, Beca’s grimacedelivers no small amount of satisfaction.

“I know, Iforgot, and—”

“You’reforgetting a lot!” Chloe cries, throwing her hands into the air. “Dishes,floors, bathrooms, cooking—”

“Chloe—”

“We need to eat, Beca! Do you want us both toabsolutely starve because you forgot to meal prep? I mean Jesus,Beca, I could pass out at work fromhunger if I don’t have lunch!”

Beca’s lipstwitch. Chloe feels some of her anger deflate, but rallies quickly.

“And what aboutthe—the floors? If we don’t vacuum—allergens! Molds! Dust! Everywhere!” Chloelists, regaining momentum. “Dirty carpets lead to heart disease, Beca, I readthat in the—”

“I’m sorry!” Becamanages, hands raised in a peace offering. “Really. I’m sorry. Work has beencrazy lately, and—”

“I work, too!”Chloe declares imperiously, though she knows her regular 9-to-5 hours as amusic teacher are less demanding than Beca’s often-erratic schedule meetingwith rising singers seeking production. “And yet I do everything!” She moves,storming farther into the room to join Beca behind the desk to peer at herlaptop. “What could you possibly beworking on that’s more important than—”

Chloe cutsherself off with a choking noise, unable to believe her eyes. She stares at thelaptop screen for a long moment, then looks back at Beca, who grins sheepishlywhile seeming to shrink into her office chair.

“So, um, I’vebeen thinking—”

“DOGS?” Chloeshouts, pointing an accusing finger at the laptop. “I’ve been breaking my BACKaround OUR house doing YOUR chores because you’re too busy looking at picturesof DOGS?”

“Um.” Beca says.“It’s the Humane site? I’ve just been thinking, you know, it might be nice tohave a dog?”

Chloe sputterswordlessly, despite the tiny part of her that agrees with Beca whole-heartedly.It would be really nice to have a dog. But she’s on a warpath, damn it, and shecan’t stop now. So, she draws herself up to her full height.

Beca’s eyes widenstill further. “They’re so fluffy, Chlo, look.”

“You’re notmature enough to be a dog parent!!” Chloe spits.

Beca’s eyebrowsdraw together and she lifts her chin, defiant. “Oh yeah? Try me!”

The words comeout loud and challenging, and for a second, they glare at each other. A smallmuscle twitches in Beca’s cheek, and Chloe has a fleeting thought towardkissing it.

Just like that,most of her anger drains away. She’s never managed to stay angry at Beca forlong.

“Fine,” she huffs,pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I’ll ‘try you,’” she says, and noteswith satisfaction the sudden uncertainty in Beca’s eyes. “Time to go mattressshopping.”

Beca’s expressionturns to one of mingled horror and devastation. They’ve been talking aboutpurchasing a new mattress since their wedding, having used Chloe’s same oncesince college—which had been purchased secondhand from her cousin before herfreshman year. Which was several years ago. It’s safe to say the mattress hadbeen solidly worn out for a long time, with actual dips in the spots theyusually sleep. It’s just that mattress shopping—spending at least a few hoursin some stuffy mattress store, trying out the hundreds of options and findingsomething they both agree on—is such a chore that they’ve put it off.

Chloe standstriumphant, positive that Beca will drop the dog thing and agree to help morearound the house; basically, anything to delay the mattress shoppingexperience.

However.

To Chloe’ssurprise, Beca’s consternation changes quickly to resolve. She stands from herchair to meet Chloe’s eyes and closes her laptop.

“Fine!” Becasays, wearing that smug, closed lipped smile. “Let me get my keys.”

************

It takes themalmost twenty minutes to actually get in the car, because Beca is too stubbornto admit she lost her keys and wastes fifteen minutes stalling. Chloe finallydigs out her own keys and drives them to the nearest mattress store in silence.

When they arriveat the mattress store, Chloe is relieved to see the parking lot is fairly quietwith few customers. Beca isn’t a huge fan of crowds, and the guilt over makingher mattress shop on a weekend is already starting to set in a little. If therehad been a ton of people there, Chloe would have felt worse about it.

Maybe Beca sensesher guilt; her hand smoothes over Chloe’s lower back as they enter the store.The small gesture tells Chloe she has nothing to feel bad for, and that Beca’sright there with her.

“Good afternoon!”an older, smiling sales associate greets them almost immediately. Chloe’s eyesflick to a nametag: Jerry. His easy-going demeanor and welcoming expressionbring a smile to Chloe’s face.

“Hi!” she greets.“We’re looking for a king-sized, please. Can you help us with that?” As shealways does with new people, she looks for any telltale flicker behind his eyesat the realization that she and Beca are a couple. Thankfully, nothing in hisopen expression changes, and a moment later, Beca’s hand slips comfortably intohers.

“Definitely,”Jerry nods. “Right this way, please.”

He leads them toa side room, where dozens of the king-sized mattresses are aligned perfectly,gathered by brand and further organized by mattress quality and specifications.Maybe seeing their overwhelmed expressions, Jerry begins talking them throughthe advantages and disadvantages of certain brands, as well as the importanceof lumbar support, firmness-to-softness ratio, and customizable comfortsettings. Beca’s eyes glaze over about thirty seconds into his speech, thoughChloe catches her occasionally blinking in effort to pay attention.

It really, trulyisn’t anything against Jerry. It’s simply that mattress shopping is horrible.

It’s a bit of arelief when Jerry finishes the information overload. “I can see that you havemuch to consider,” he says kindly. “I’ll check on some other customers and comeback in a few minutes?”

“That’d be great,thank you,” Beca says, pulling herself out of whatever loop of music Chloe ispositive was running through her mind.

Chloe smiles atJerry as he returns to the main floor, and then turns to Beca. “Fun, right?”

“Super fun,” Becasays. “Very adult. Very mature of us to be here. Purchasing mattresses.”

“Mmm.”

“King-sized,even,” Beca continues. “Upgrade.”

“I thought wecould at least get a nice one.” Chloe walks toward a mattress, sitting on theedge and bouncing a little. “Ooh, Bec, this one is springy!”

“Oh yeah?” Becaasks, wiggling her eyebrows and slowly pacing to Chloe. “That’ll be fun…”

Chloe feels theheat rise in her neck as Beca draws closer.

“…for bouncingon!” Beca finishes her sentence, jumping completely onto the mattress andstanding on it. Before Chloe can stop her, she jumps on it once, making thewhole thing bounce under them both. “See?” Beca asks proudly, looking down ather.

“Get down!” Chloehisses, even while fighting a smile. “Jerry might be back soon!”

Instead, Becaextends her left hand. “Care to join me, m’Lady?”

It’s really thesight of Beca’s wedding band that does it. Chloe gives Beca her own left hand,and Beca helps her to her feet so they’re both standing on the bed.

“Beautiful,” Becasmiles, and it’s the easiest thing in the world for Chloe to lean forward andkiss her quickly.

“You’re just asbeautiful,” she says.

“Mmm, very true,”Beca agrees with a crooked grin. “We’re both stunning. Now, wanna race to theother side of the room?”

“Oh, it is soon,” Chloe says, and before Beca can so much as blink, she’s jumping from theirmattress to the next, bounding along, aiming for the far wall.

“Cheater!” Becacalls out, and then all Chloe can hear is Beca’s laughter from behind her andthe regular squeaking of bed springs as Beca jumps on the mattresses.

They race, Chloein the lead, bouncing from mattress to mattress, focused on their end goal. Theelation of it fills Chloe, rises in her chest with every jump she takes, andshe feels like a child. Beca draws closer, until she keeps pace with Chloe, andthen they’re not so much racing as they are just keeping near each other. Themattresses are large enough that they can bounce a few times on each beforeleaping to the next, and by the time Chloe gets close to the finish line, herlegs burn with effort.

She arrives onthe final mattress barely an instant before Beca does, and the second Becalands, she wraps her arms around Chloe’s waist and falls, taking her down tothe soft display bed with her.

They’re bothlaughing and out of breath, and Chloe clings to Beca, who pulls her close, eyesdropping to Chloe’s lips, and—

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

************

The car ride homeis as silent as the ride to the store had been.

Chloe keeps hereyes resolutely on the road, both hands firmly on the wheel. Beside her, Becastares out the passenger window.

Traffic hasgotten heavier, people going out to dinner or to shows to enjoy the weekend.They get stuck at a red light. It’s the same one that Chloe swears she always gets stuck at; it definitely hasit out for her.

Beca clears herthroat softly. “So… he was kinda grumpy, wasn’t he?”

The dam breaksand laughter bubbles up from Chloe’s chest. Beca starts laughing too, real,rich laughter that only makes Chloe laugh harder. They laugh, and keeplaughing, each one setting off the other, and it doesn’t subside until Chloe’sstomach hurts and her cheeks ache.

“Oh my god,” shemanages weakly, wiping tears from her eyes as the traffic light turns green andthey inch forward with the crowd of cars. “I thought he was going to kill us.”

“Nah, Jerrywouldn’t do that,” Beca says, waving a hand. “He was trying not to laugh thewhole time he was banning us from the store.”

“He still bannedus though!”

“Only because hetotally had to,” Beca argues. “We still ordered a mattress, so at least wedon’t have to do that again for a while.”

“It was more funthan I thought it would be,” Chloe concedes, taking her eyes off the road onlyfor a moment to smile at her wife.

“It was,” Becaagrees. “Though, maybe you were right about me not being mature. I’m sorry,Chlo. I’ll help more around the house and with everything.”

“I’d appreciatethat,” Chloe sighs happily. “And then, you know, we can talk about being dogparents.”

Beca perks upimmediately. “Yeah?”

“Totes,” Chloereplies easily. “And, maybe, eventually… parent-parents?” she glances over,biting her lip.

Beca is lookingat her like she put the stars in the sky. “That would be nice,” she says.

“Then it’s adeal,” Chloe agrees. “Just… no letting the dog on the new bed, okay?”

Beca doesn’tanswer.

“Bec, I mean it!”

“No promises,Chlo.”

#bechloe #Anonymous #my writing #bechloe fluff #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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borhap-au · 4 years

Text

Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Joe’s girl feels down and needs him to be there for her.

He knew something was wrong. You could see it from just looking at him. He wasn’t like he always was. He was not playful, he didn’t crack jokes. He didn’t smile. He knew you felt bad. And – what broke your heart to a thousand pieces – he thought it was his fault.

“Please, please, please, just tell me” he looked you deep in the eyes, holding your hands in his. He was leaning towards you, sitting on the chair opposite you. Your mind was pure chaos. You knew well what was bothering you, despite telling him you were just in bad mood, without a reason. Yet it was so hard to say out loud. It wasn’t a one-time thing, it was happening for quite a long time… And you never truly admitted to anyone what was going on in your head. But it was the right time, the only right time if there ever was one. Right here and there – just to reassure the man you loved more than anything else in the world that it was not his fault.

“Where do I start… Well, fuck. Do you really feel like listening to all this? Because it is a long story, and as much as it’s important to me, I know nobody else cares, so…” you started. You honestly doubted he was ready for what’s about to come. He probably thought it was just about a stupid fight with your friend, or that you didn’t fit in your favourite jeans. He didn’t know how deeply it was rooted in your brain.

“Yes. I am ready and willing to listen to you no matter how long you want to speak. Please, tell me everything. I’m begging you” you smiled sadly looking at him. Despite feeling down you knew one thing – Joe was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, he was so loving, caring, so sweet. And you wanted to give him much more than you believed you were.

“I hate myself” he wanted to interrupt, but you didn’t allow him. “Just let me get all of this out of my chest. Then you can say whatever you want about it.” He nodded slowly letting you proceed.

“It’s not a new thing, I did since I was like… 12? You know, I was one of the cool kids when I was very young. I was believed to be pretty, smart, interesting. Always told by everyone I will go far, I will go wherever I want actually. Got the best grades, boys were interested in me, I had expensive clothes, beautiful hair… You know, the things that are important when you’re 12. And then I entered my teenage years and the reality hit me. Hard. I got much fatter than I used to be, I got acne, I heard for the first time that I’m ugly. We got new subjects and there were kids I could never catch up with, because I prefer languages, history. I was never good at physics or PE. I realised I’m more of an introvert type. I got less and less popular. I had a really toxic best friend that bent my worldview, but also my self-esteem. I was always in her shadow and at her every wish. I’m pretty sure my parents just got me because well, they… happened to have me. Neither of them is really meant to be a parent, they don’t know what they’re doing, really. And when I got into my rebel phase, they never understood me. They still don’t. Nobody in my family really does. They’re all like: “socialize more” or “lose some weight” or “all your problems start with you.” Well of course they start with me, Karen, I am the problem! I’m never good enough. All the people around me make me feel bad about who I am. I’m an introvert, and logically, there is nothing bad about it. It’s just the type of personality I have. But no. “You should go out! Meet people! You’re like a freak all by yourself in your room. You don’t socialize because you have no friends, is that the case?” Or if I’m shy and I don’t feel ready to be an adult yet, I’m scared to go on a job interview, I don’t like strangers, I have a fear of being rejected. And it is not my fault. I’m just that kind of a person. I do make money, just differently, I teach a few kids I know. But no, all the other people my age make fucking millions. “Oh, your cousin has bought a house. Your friend is balancing three job and college. Oh, my friend’s son is travelling all around the world.” Oh, well, good for them for fuck’s sake. I’m not like them. I’m not perfect. Just tell me I’m a fucking disappointment already. Just disown me. Because all of those little comments just make me feel like shit. And yes, it took me years to find a boyfriend so I obviously heard about it too. “Oh, you’re just jealous it’s not you.” No, I’m not jealous. And even if I was, I still wouldn’t like listening about other people’s love and sex life. I’m just not interested in those things. Honestly, I try to be a good friend, but when you’re the only single person that constantly need to give advices to those in relationships… It gets tiring. And of course nobody has ever been proud of me, not since childhood. I try, and try, and work my ass off and when I for example score 90% from a very difficult exam, all I hear is “why not 100%?” I’m not smart enough. I stress about everything. And when I stress, I eat. So I can’t just get slimmer. I can’t get motivation to work out, because I can’t get a motivation to live. I don’t feel like getting out of bed. I’m not smart, pretty, skinny… Not even interesting or charming. I’m annoying. I can see in people’s eyes they had enough of me few minutes into our conversation. I always feel worse, like I’m not good enough for anything, like literally everyone’s better. At everything. I don’t have my own thing. And even if I find something, soon people turn to the person that is better than me. I’m not anyone’s favourite person-"

“Oh no, I need to interrupt you here. You are MY favourite person. You are my favourite person on the whole planet. And I’m really sorry you don’t see how beautiful you are. I know the girls in the magazines look differently. And good! Because they are not real. They’re photoshopped. And we are made to believe this is what we want – this is what girls should look like, and in those kind of women we are supposed to fall in love with. But they don’t exist. To achieve such a small flat stomach you would have to get rid of all your organs. It doesn’t work like this. You are slim. You are beautiful. Why do we even care about the standards of beauty other people tell us we should have? You are my standard of beauty. I’ve never seen more beautiful eyes or smile in my life. I look at you and I just immediately smile to myself, thinking how lucky I am and how happy you make me feel. When you’re laughing, goofing around, when you do absolutely anything. They make money on dieting, sport related things, “healthy” food, proteins, whatever. They want us to hate ourselves. To always try to achieve the impossible. Because then we buy more. Because we are sad, depressed. Easily manipulated by the media. And I don’t want you to let them win. Because you are so fucking beautiful, girl, I had a crush on you since the first day we’ve met. I adore your body. I cannot take my eyes off you when you’re walking past me. You are the reason I’m happy and I want to be the same for you. And I am proud of you. I’m incredibly proud of every single achievement you attain. I always tell people what a good person you are, how loving and caring you are. I notice everything. And if you got 90% from a test I know damn well there is not a single person that got 100%. Because nobody is better than you are. And nobody knows more about the things you’re passionate about. And to me there’s nobody that can overshadow you. You are the one and only, the only one I see when you walk into a room. You’re your own light. And you have enough to give me a bit of that too. Because this is what kind of person you are. You give instead of taking from people. You are very special. And anybody who doesn’t see how blessed they are to have you in their life can go fuck themselves. I see it and I know that I am. You mean so much to me. And I see that you’re trying and honestly in the circumstances given, you really do well. You don’t have to compare yourself to others. They all had a different start. They came from a different place, they had different people around them. Especially since you only had people discouraging you. You achieved it on your own. You owe it all to yourself. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with being an introvert, when will people acknowledge that? It’s not a mental disease like they want it to appear. “15 ways for introverts to appear as extroverts!” What about manuals for extroverts to be more quiet and understanding sometimes? And you never disappointed me. Since we’re together I’ve been so much happier and I really wish I could do the same for you. I don’t know where I’m making the mistake-“ you stopped him with a kiss.

You were listening to all that he was saying not believing this man is yours. He was like a blessing, he understood everything you had in your mind and was able to help you understand very important things too. And he loved you. Loved you more than you allowed yourself to believe. He was genuinely interested in you and your problems. He wanted to help, however he could. He even blamed himself for not doing more. Yet he did so much more than anyone else in your life before. In that brief moment, you felt happier. You knew it wasn’t the end of fighting for your happiness, it was just the beginning. But you finally felt like you wanted to fight. He made you want to take appropriate steps to change the voice in your head. Because for once you felt like someone actually wants you to be better, but in a sense that they cheer for you, not that they’re disappointed in who you are. And you knew it’s a long fight and there will be many defeats. You knew the excitement you felt now won’t last forever. But the moment you felt his lips on yours, his hands on your back, bringing you close, you knew you had a reason to fight for your happiness for. He was your reason.

“Believe me or not, I actually feel better now… It was good to finally talk to someone about it. But please don’t tell me that you feel bad, because it’s your fault… It isn’t. It started happening long before I met you. I don’t expect you to come into ruins and build a castle from them. I just love you so much for the fact you enjoy what you’re seeing for the reasons others hate it.” He smiled a bit petting your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed your forehead.

“I love you very much. And if they don’t see how amazing you are, it’s their loss, not yours. You have the people that truly care around you. You have me. And you will have me as long as you need me. I’m here, always. Call me at 3 AM, no problem. Text me and I’m here. Stay over at my house whenever you please, fall asleep in my arms if that calms you. Let me know if you need my attention more than usually. Hit me up when you need someone to encourage you. I will do all of it for you, and more, but please, just let me know you need those things. I’m not a mind reader, although I wish I was. I cannot help you if you won’t tell me something’s wrong.” He looked at you concerned. After all, he still wasn’t sure if he did enough. He was truly worried. He really cared.

“Only if you promise me that you will do the same. Maybe you think I don’t know it, but I do. You feel down sometimes too. And I don’t want to feel like I’m nosey and I try to dig out something you don’t want to tell me about. But I do care so much about you, and I want you to tell me, always. If I see that you don’t, I won’t tell you either. Either we’re both in this relationship, caring for each other and helping each other, or… There is no deal. I don’t want you to suffer quietly and then come here to help me. Men can feel bad too. You should allow yourself for it, rather than keeping it in and pretending all is fine. Men can be emotional, men can cry. And you can cry on my shoulder whenever you want. I’ll do anything I can to help you overcome your problems.” He sat on the couch next to you and you leaned on him, snuggling. He pet your back.

“I promise you. Actually, there’s something- I didn’t tell you this before, but I really like when you ask me all those little questions. Like how am I, is everything alright, did I took everything, how was my day, am I feeling well physically and mentally, did I dress appropriately, didn’t forget to eat… It may seem stupid, but I really love those things. They make me realise how much you care for me, to take time to think about those things. And I like resting my head on your stomach hugging you in bed. It makes me feel close to you, I love hearing your heartbeat. Those little things are important to me.” He smiled slightly when you nodded making sure to remember all of it.

“I like when you text me first thing in the morning. And when you come here out of the blue. I like when you’re showing me affection, hug me, hold my hand, caress my body. I like when you speak about your emotions. I like when you say”

“I love you” you both said at the same time and you smiled.

“Exactly. And I love that you listen.” You added.

“Because you listen too. I have boys who listen to me when I’m excited about sports; mom, if I want to talk about job opportunities or my dreams… I can always find someone who listens if I talk about good things. Nobody else listens when I feel down. Nobody else but you. You understand the importance of my mental health. I hope one day you’ll understand how important your health is. How important you are. ‘Cause to me, you mean everything.” He kissed your head.

“If one day I feel like I’m good enough, it will be thanks to you.”

“You are so much better than just that. You could fucking own the world if you wanted to. You can do, achieve, whatever you really want. You are a queen to me. I love you to the moon and back. And I’m so fucking proud to call you my girl. You just make other people happy. You make me happy. You know how much it’s worth? In the world where everything brings you down? It’s priceless. You are priceless. And I don’t know what more to tell you other than this girl – the one I have in my arms right now – is the reason I go out of bed, if feel like I’m flying instead of walking and whenever I know you got interested in something new, I can’t wait to hear you talking about it, gesticulating and being all excited. I love it. I love those moments with you. I’m always happy when I know we will meet on that day. It makes me feel alive.”

You listened to him carefully. He was better than you could imagine him. You knew he really would come at 3 PM to comfort you if you asked him to. And it was so important to have someone like that in your life.

“I don’t know what to say either. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too. From the moment you said you want to be with me, the life has been surreal. I feel like it’s all just a perfect dream. I’m in coma and I will wake up and you will be gone, my angel.”

“I’m here, Joey. I’m as real as it gets. Why are you here, though, I cannot understand.”

“Because you make me happy. I don’t feel obliged to be with you or any other bullshit the voices have been telling you. Actually, I would be happy if you became my wife one day. Because if I spent my life making sure you feel great and loved, then I would consider my life to be a fulfilling one. I’m not here because I have to, or something like that. I need you. My beautiful, intelligent, attractive, charming girl. My best friend. Just please, stay with me. Just as long as I make you happier than others would. If you find someone better, I will step aside. Because I genuinely only care about your well-being. I love you so much it hurts when I’m not around you.”

“Do you mean all this?” it’s like he’s been reading your mind. He told you exactly what you needed to hear.

“Every single word. Please, just try anything to be happy and I promise to be there, on the way with you, cheering for you and telling you how proud I am for every little step. And I mean all of this too.”

“Who would I be without you?” You asked rhetorically. You knew the answer was “nothing”, but you didn’t want to say it, since it would hurt him to hear you saying it about someone he loved so much.

“An ambitious girl with a bright future in front of her. Honey, you would be exactly who you are right now. I don’t make you whole, you are whole. I’m just an addition. You don’t necessarily need me, but you want me, and I’m happy and proud of it. And I will stay as long as you want me to. Helping you achieve what you would achieve on your own anyway and hopefully much more. I will not leave you. I’m here, for you. Always.”

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aradias-crypt · 4 years

Text

Sinful Symphonies

{pt.2}

A disc leisurely floats to the phonograph in the corner of the room. Filling the chamber with music.

It wasn’t his normal choice, but it would do for today.

Black Hat leans back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment of rest. He didn’t require sleep or breaks, his body never tired like the mortals around him. He was always conscious of everything around him.

But to have a moment with just his glorious self was quite nice..

The melody drifts on.

The world quiets.

Just as bruises form on his body.

And as a dull throb reverberates in his head.

Damn it.

He growls and opens his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed as he cuts off the music with a snap of his fingers. With the moment gone, Black Hat examines his new injuries, though he knows they will fade soon.

The concept of a “soulmate” was not new to him, nor was the affect the bond could have on a pair.

It was quite the revelation when he discovered even he could have one. And for a while, he fancied the idea of having someone all to himself; someone only he could have for the rest of time and then some. But as his intended died and reincarnated he grew annoyed with the drawbacks.

They filled his mind with childish rhymes and songs, giving him scrapes and stupid little paper cuts. They interrupted his plans with out of sync humming. As they grew they went through constant phases and would repeat songs over and over! In one reincarnation, they even fell victim to poisoning and trampling in the same week!

How dare they interrupt his schedule with such pitiful mortal afflictions! He couldn’t even enjoy watching them suffer!

How could his soulmate- his equal! Be so vulnerable?!

A small squeak of gears and doors unlatching catches his attention as he digs his claws into the arms of his chair, green drool dripping from his clenched teeth. Releasing his grip of the chair, he leans back and crosses his legs. Once again under the guise of his “gentlemanly” persona.

“The doctor must be back.” His eye turns red as he connects his consciousness to a portrait downstairs, surveying the room for his lackeys. It was only recently that he acquired this minion, and while he showed some.. promise, the scientist still had yet to truly prove himself. Not that he could ever hope to reach his standards of perfection of course. He doubted if anyone could.

Strangely, there is no movement inside the manor.

He scowls,”Where are those imbeciles.”

Fully immersing himself into the portrait, Black Hat slips out of the canvas and saunters through the house in search of the source of the disturbance. It was likely the gates to the underground garage.

But unloading parcels was no excuse for checking in late!

A familiar melody fills his head causing him to stop walking for a second.

Fondu au noir, he believes. A humming accompanies the lyrics, faint, but enough to be noticed.

They were in sync this time, he thinks with a flutter of amusement.

He grunts, a deep scowl once again on his face as he continues his trek downstairs. Of course they would have bad timing once again, filling his mind with nonsense.

Standing before the doors, he slips through into the garage. Black Hat is greeted by the sight of his subordinates hog tied atop of the car. The bots in the front seats are either dismantled or completely decimated with scorch marks on their plating. The merchandise however, is all in one piece.

‘Lucky doctor.’ Black Hat lifts a brow, his face unamused.

Flug gulps, sweat dripping down the paper bag covering his head,”H-Hello m-my lord!”

Demencia squeals,”Sweetie!”

A twitch of his eye.

The merchandise was there, but his reputation was stained.

Failure.

Absolute. Failure.

“S-Sir..?”

“Its all under control, you said,” Black Hat chuckles, his shadow climbing the wall and expanding,”Its as good as done.” Membranous wings snap from his back as Black Hat roars; his flesh peels back, exposing his gums and fluorescent green teeth, the smell of rot fills the air.

“Ŵ̨̥̞̭͇͉͖̠̑̀̑̉͊͠͠A̡̘͙͓̞͈̐̍̌̍̋͘Ŝ̛͕̫͖͖͞͝ ̦̻̱̤̓̈̋͝Ṯ̛̹͈͔̖̘̗̼̲̃̐̋̆̽̈́͘̚H̢̡͍̼͖̱̯̳̗̝̀͒̅̄̎͋̂̇̃̚Ã̡̢̧̻͍̝̖̠͊̉͊̽̃́͝T͙͛ ̧̜͎̠̹͎̪̀̽͑̌̑̃̎̇͜Ṅ͉̼̝̽͝Ơ̩T̨̬͑̋͜͝ ̥̳̎͋͘͜W̛̬̜̭̟̰̘͕̥̺̽̀̍̅͒͛͑̕͜͠Ĥ̼̟̆͜͞Ą̛̭̮̝͕̫̖̗̞̦̾̃̅͊̑́̓͝͠T̛̼̟̰͖̋̓̇͘ͅ ̨̬̣̳̹̀͛͛̾͡Y̨̧͕̻̝̳̞̝̯͐͑̃͂̀̂̈̒̕͠ͅO̲̦̬͕͍͆̐͌̓͞U ̨̻̺̯̖̟̣̰͂̆̀̓̊͋́͗͛͜T̢̹̼̖̩̞̙͙͐͛̓̓̽̏̔̏͜͠Ò̢̮̙͑͞L͔̖̜̑͛͗D͙̕ ̤̿M͕͉̹̑̓̐̃͟Ê̬̠̺̈͌?̹͈͕͈͙̣͙̅̄̀͐̄̋͂̕͢!̟̜̘́̍͡”

Flug whimpers, curling in on himself as much as he could with his limbs bound,”Y-Yes but you s-see Lord Black Hat-“

“W̡̮̣̼̰͙̾̀̈̏͆̽͢͝H̩͒́͢AT̢̫̖̐̈͐!”

“Avillaingotinourway!”

He snarls,”They are like any other enemy doctor, you take them down!”

“It was a Horseman, sir! They took us down after destroying the Hat-Bots!”

Black Hat pauses.

Flug trembles, waiting for his masters response while Demencia watches adoringly.

“A little Horseman you say?”

“Y-Yes sir.”

Black Hat chuckles and swipes a clawed finger to release the two from their bonds. Leaning closer to Flug he drags a sharp digit across the scientist’s goggles,”I will give you one chance to remedy your little SLIP UP!”

Flug flinches.

Black Hat grins, embracing his flair for the theatrical as the lights die out. Leaving his sickening grin and piercing eye the only light sources in the room.

”Bring them to me.”

———————

Once you got home, you immediately turned on your radio and fell asleep. Sleep means you don’t have to acknowledge the aching in your body.

Pain, or dreams of fireplaces, cats, and fresh bread?

Dreams of course.

But a harsh rapping at the door not hours later, pulls you from your sleep.

You stretch your arms above your head, sighing in pleasure as your sore joints pop. You lay back down to continue sleeping. Screw whoever’s at the door, you want your sleep.

The knocking grows louder, soon turning into insistent banging.

You groan, sitting back up,“I’m going!” You huff,”No need to be so pushy.” Grabbing a pair of brass knuckles from a ceramic vase on the small table by your couch, you stuff your hand into your pocket before unlocking the door and removing the deadbolt.

Swinging open the door, you are met with the sight of Pestilence leaning on the doorway with wide eyes. Death looks everywhere but you and War cradles a fallen potted tree in his arms. Conquest is the only normal one with his hands in his suit pockets.

They’re all dressed nicely, you realize with a small hum.

Conquest smiles softly and waves,”Hey sorella.”

You smile back, waving with the brass knuckles on,”Hey Connie.” Quirking a brow at War, you look to the rest of your siblings,”So. You came to vandalize my plant or my fridge?”

Death grins, signing rapidly,”Wine cellar. War can have the tree.”

“Proceed,” you motion to War as you sign to Death,”This is Why I can't have nice things.” You roll your eyes.

War rightens the tree as the three siblings walk inside, each one giving you a kiss on the cheek or small pat on the shoulder. In the family, a normal hello would work like when you were all kids. But in the family, respect was to be shown when entering the house of any member of the clan. even siblings.

Either way, you really missed these guys. Often they were back at the home base in Calamni with the matriarch and a good chunk of the family. While you weren’t shunned from returning after choosing to enroll in college full time rather than villainy, neither side could visit the other frequently.

“Sooo whatcha up to punk?” Pesty plops herself onto the couch, grinning at Death who heads straight to the kitchen.

You lean on the wall,”Well I was finishing up my art degree but seeing as how the building was destroyed that plan is on hiatus for now.”

“So you were at the collapse.” Conquest sits on the loveseat by the window, he taps his fingers uneasily,”Nonna said you might’ve been the one spotted in the area.”

“I was,” You confess,”But I dealt with the problem, I didn’t start it.”

War let’s out a booming laugh,”No need to defend yourself half pint, we’re not here to accuse you.”

“So you’re really just here for my food?”

Oh don’t you feel loved.

Death walks out from around the corner, a platter of cheese in his hands while wine glasses float behind him,”We come with invitations.” He smiles smugly as you squint to read the label on the bottle of wine behind him.

“I was saving that!” You shriek.

The cork pops from the bottle as Death sings,”Not anymore~!”

Pestilence eagerly rubs her hands together,”Pass the loot Videl!”

Death puts down the tray before filling the glasses. Leaving you glaring at them all as the bottle is soon left half empty.

“This better be good.” You sit by Pestilence and are soon boxed in by Death who places his legs on yours and Pestilence’s lap.

War swirls the wine in his glass, a grin gradually forming,”It's pretty exciting.”

“Your exciting or my exciting?” You plop a small block of cheese into Death’s mouth.

“Bit of both” he shrugs.

“Alright, what is it?”

War looks to Conquest who pulls out a small envelope, passing it along to his brother. Opening the envelope, War clears his throat and says,

“The Black Hat Organization cordially invites the House of Horsemen and select members of Death Inc. to our decennial gala to celebrate the achievements of current and past villains. The gala will begin at sundown and end at sunrise. There will be a live auction, dead auction, music and dance then some sort of groveling over Black Hats achievements I guess.” War rambles on,”It mentions pops also getting recognized but we haven’t told him yet.”

“Why not?” You ask.

“Because of mom.” Pestilence floats her glass in front of her, eyes glassy as she listens to the viruses and bacteria that linger around her around her. “She’s definitely not invited, and the old man probably won’t want to go without her.”

“Yeah.. so you guys are taking me?”

“Of course, you’re part of the clan. Unless you want us to take Belladonna and Pluto without you and make you look like the third wheel.” Conquest stifles a smile.

You huff,”After you drank my wine I deserve an invitation.”

“Good! We’re going then, time to get dressed!” Pestilence darts up the stairs.

Your eyes widen,”Wait you never said it was-!” Death slips behind the couch and lifts you from under your arms, carrying you up the stairs with ease.

“Bell’s already in the car!” War cups his hands over his mouth to be heard over your thrashing,”Dress nice this time okay!”

“FUCK YOU!” You let out one last scream before Death tosses you into your room with Pestilence.

Death holds onto the door as you bang on it, calling out to your siblings as your sister takes it upon herself to prepare you for the gala. He smiles nervously at his older brothers, motioning a swift,”Phew!”

War chuckles before looking to Conquest,”This should be fun.”

Conquest simply downs his wine silently.

———————

Black Hat prowls the area, watching as guests begin to enter. He vaguely recalls faces, with most villains not being worth his notice whatsoever. But tonight he searches for a specific kind of company.

A Horseman.

“Lord Black Hat.”

A voice behind him calls. He turns around and finds the Four Horsemen and a few others in their party. Lucky him, he grins to himself.

Conquest bows,”It's an honor to be invited once more, my lord.” The others follow suit but rise before their leader does.

Black Hat hums, looking down at the younger man,”It has been some time hasn’t it?” He scans the group, temporarily pausing on.. one.

“Part of the company?” He asks, referring to Death Inc. which like his own company, was multifaceted. Perhaps they were from the lower ranks.

Conquest looks up, turning to his side,”No sir, she is from our clan. My sister in fact.”

You look up at the tall “man” before you, feeling your pulse quickening as he assesses you silently. His eyes roam from your head to your toes before landing on your face, his eye shining with what you could only describe as something predatory. You were a bit terrified, knowing who he was and what he was capable of- remembering seeing it on the battlefield long ago.

But at the same time, you felt elated. Excited. As if a murky glass was wiped clean. It felt new.

Your group steps to the side as Black Hat approaches you. Their bodies tense, knowing they could step in to attack but ultimately would be nothing more than flies for him to swat away. They could do nothing but watch and wait.

Stopping a foot away, Black Hat removes his top hat and holds it to his chest as he performs a small bow. A bowler hat is in place of the one he took off.

“A pleasure to meet you.” He purrs and looks up at you, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.

You slowly smile.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

#villainous #villainos #black hat #black hat x reader #blackhat x reader #sinful symphonies #sinful symphonies pt.2

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talesofstyles · 5 years

Text

Mates

Hello! What have we got here? A best friend!H. Does it have smut? Yes ma’am. Have I ever written smut before? Absolutely not. Do I want to run and hide in the darkest deepest part of the earth after writing this? YES.

Bless @waitingfortwilight (+for proofreading it!) and @all-things-fic because they’re most likely sick of hearing me talking about this in our group chat for the past few weeks, but hey it’s done now ;) also to @harrysdimplles for being excited with me!

Hope you like it and tell me what you think! xx

It was around six thirty in the morning when Harry woke up. He is one of the ten percent of the global population who are morning larks. He absolutely loves waking up early in the morning and almost never stays in bed past eight.

Meanwhile, you are the complete opposite. You are truly, definitely, utterly, completely, absolutely not a morning person. You hate waking up in the morning. You always set your alarm ten minutes before the actual time you need to get up so that you’ve got time to be pissed in bed because you have to wake up. Poor Harry made the mistake of waking you up early in the morning, thinking you’d join him for a morning run a week after both of you had settled into your new shared flat, and boy did he regret that decision. You’d given him a right bollocking, and sulked around like a stroppy child for the rest of the day.

You were never a morning person, so that was why Harry was confused when he heard sounds coming from the kitchen as he walked through to make himself a cup of coffee. He was looking down, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes as he entered the kitchen, so he didn’t realise the tall figure stirring coffee in the mug next to him wasn’t you.

“Morning mate,” greeted the man before he took a sip of his coffee.

Harry mumbled in response before it was cut with a yawn. “Mor- whoa,” he raised his palm to make a stop sign, and continued after he finished yawning. “You don’t live here.”

“Uh,” awkward silence filled the kitchen. “I don’t.”

“What are you doing here?” He knew it was a stupid question, but that somehow didn’t stop him from asking.

“Er, uh,” the guy looked down at his mug for a second before he answered. “Visiting.”

“Visiting what? My roommate’s uterus?”

The guy took a big gulp of his coffee and sat the mug down in the sink. “Uh, I’ll get going. Nice seeing you again, Harry.”

“Alright, bye bye now,” Harry said as the other guy disappeared from the kitchen, before muttering, “what a nonce,” under his breath.

Harry wasn’t usually mean. He was all about treating people with kindness, but apparently the motto didn’t apply to his roommate’s exes. It had nearly been a month since you broke up with Jamie.

Boy, was he fit. He’s still fit. He’s so fit. Legit ten out of ten. Was that the reason you keep getting back together even though you knew for sure that the relationship was toxic? Probably. But hey, you were a young woman in your early twenties; as young as a spring chicken, still naïve—and shallow, apparently—so nobody can blame you.

Jamie was your first serious boyfriend, because no—we are not going to count that nerdy bloke with glasses who used to do your maths homework in year 6. You were together on and off for four years, but you decided that enough was enough. It was your decision to end things in the first place, but that didn’t mean that you were okay with it. You did it because you knew it was the right thing to do—but deep down you knew you didn’t want it to end. Because controlling and guilt-inducing aside, Jamie was a nice bloke. He’s got a great sense of humour (unlike your darling roommate whose jokes tend to give you physical pain), and good Lord those lips always seem to know what you want to hear every single time. He’s romantic; such a good cook, and goodness gracious glory you, those abs. That face. Those green eyes that twinkle every time he talks about something that he is passionate about. He was a dream. But again, you knew ending it was the right thing to do.

You’d barely left your flat during the first week after your break up. You were so miserable, and Harry tried everything he could to cheer you up, but he didn’t have a lot of experience in helping girls get through a break up. All he knew about break ups was the fact that there were three phases (thank you Chandler) - phase one: sweatpants, phase two: getting drunk and going to a strip club, and phase three: picturing themselves with other people. He did offer to accompany you to a strip club incase you wanted to, but you threw one of the pillows on the couch at him for suggesting such a thing. So he just let you be. He threw away your healthy—re: shit—ice cream and swapped it with Ben and Jerry’s because he knew that you like to eat ice cream whilst watching Sleepless In Seattle or You’ve Got Mail, or basically any rom-coms that you decided to watch that night. He did the washing up for seven days in a row without moaning, and he even did some of your laundry too. He didn’t press you to talk it out, but he made sure that you knew that he was there for you.

You were so much better during the second week. In fact, you were too much better. Harry was surprised that it only took you a week to get over a four year relationship, but he was pleased to have his happy, bubbly roommate back. He was a little suspicious, but he brushed it off. He thought maybe you didn’t really love Jamie and that was why you were quick to get back on your feet. Or maybe you just had the emotional equivalent of a scavenging sewer rat. He’d never know.

Third week? You were back to square one.

“Well, well, well, look who’s up,” Harry greeted you as you appeared in the kitchen whilst he was beating the eggs and watching Gordon Ramsay as he did the same thing on his iPad. “Morning, love. Late night, eh? Y/N and Jamie sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G~”

“Morning,” you answered plainly. It was way too early for you to be arsed about his teasing remarks.

“So,” He paused as he added some crème fraiche into the pan. “Are you gonna tell me what happened last night? How that happened? You two getting back together?”

You sighed as you made your way to the counter where your nespresso machine sat. You put a capsule into the machine and turned it on because you needed some caffeine in your system before you could talk about it. Although you had a feeling by looking at Harry’s smirk that you were going to need a much stronger drink.

“Nah,” you replied and let out a yawn before you continued. “Was just a booty call.”

“A booty call?” Harry looked up from the pan at you. “Are you cool enough?”

“I am cool. The coolest I’ve ever been. In fact, I’m so cool that I’m gonna text him again for another booty call tonight. And maybe this time we can go out and have a booty breakfast.”

“You, my friend, are the furthest thing from cool. As the President of the casual sex society, local chapter—I call bull on your booty.”

“What?” You frowned. “It’s just a booty call.”

“Not with you it isn’t. You think that booty breakfast will maybe lead to a booty dinner, then maybe booty engaged and booty married, and have a couple booty kids and a booty retirement home, and then booty die together.”

“That isn’t true!” You protested.

“Yes it is! You know it is.” He went on. “You two keep going on and off you’re like Rihanna and Chris Brown, minus the punching and the duet.” Harry insisted as he put the eggs on two plates for both of you. “You were already doing so good last week, don’t go back there again.”

“Well, girls gotta eat!” you grumbled like a three year old whose candy had just been taken away, and Harry let out a chuckle.

“Go eat!” he stressed. “But don’t eat at the same restaurant.”

You huffed. “I don’t do one night stands.”

“So don’t stand. Lay down.” He grinned as he caught the cherry tomato that you threw at him in response. “Seriously, love, you need to get over him. He was a bellend.”

“You’re a bellend.”

“Oi! I was just trying to help!” this time he scrunched up a kitchen towel and threw it your way. “Listen, we’re going out tonight, yeah? S’gonna be fun.”

“I don’t feel like going out.”

“Alright, then. But remember, you can’t call Jamie again. I know it’s really not my business but you’re my best friend and I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I won’t.” You reassured him.

Harry reached out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”

“Oh my God, what are you? Five?” You took a sip of your coffee before you gave in and reached out yours. “Fine, promise. Happy now?”

***

“Harry!”

He sighed at hearing his name being yelled again for the third time. You had been quite short with him somehow even though he did nothing wrong. You weren’t usually like that and he knew it was just because you were upset, so he gave you a dick pass.

“What?” Harry asked you as he stood up from the couch to find you. “What did I do now?”

“I just changed the toilet roll three days ago and it’s already gone! How dirty is your arse?!” You grumbled.

Harry looked at you in disbelief. “For fucks sake woman it’s three quid for nine bleeding rolls!”

“Aye! Sorry didn’t know we’re a Tory household now, splashing money around like we won the lottery.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Alright that’s it. Let’s get you out of the house. You’re mean at home.”

“Hey!” You swat his arm in response to his remark. Then he ended up showing off the arm that you hit playfully and pointed at it to prove his point.

“See?! Come on, let’s go get changed. Spit spot. Move along now. You can go and get ready now voluntarily or I’ll just drag you out by force in your two days old pyjamas. The choice is yours.” He shrugged and opened his palms.

You huffed but you did what he told you to do anyway, because maybe he was right—you needed the change of scenery. You wanted to just get back in bed since it was Saturday and took a three hour nap, but you knew that pest of a roommate of yours wouldn’t let you, and you knew that what he said wasn’t an empty threat. So, you went to take a quick shower and get ready.

“Seriously, where are we going?” You asked Harry as you waited for him to start his orange Vespa scooter.

“Ah ah ah,” Harry shook his head. “What did I say before? No questions, just put your helmet on.”

“Are you gonna kidnap me?”

“We live together!”

“Yeah, but who knows? Maybe you’re after my kidney.”

“Oh my God woman just shush, put your helmet on and hop on so we can get going, yeah? S’gonna be fun, promise. No kidney stealing or some other dodgy stuff.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle for the first time in a while, and Harry grinned. “See? You’re better outside.”

After putting the helmet on, you hopped onto the scooter and you held his waist. But then you felt his hands reaching for your arms to wrap it around his tummy and rest it on his belly button, making you sit closer to him. Your front was nearly glued to his back, which you were sure they would be in a second when you hit the road because the slightest bump would shift you forward.

You weren’t sure what it was. You weren’t sure why you were feeling a little flustered being that close to Harry. For a second you thought maybe it was just because you had broken up recently and your emotions were out of whack. That wasn’t the closest you’d ever been with Harry. You were both—still are—massive cuddlers, so it wasn’t rare for you two to sit on the couch cuddling as you watched whatever it was on the telly. You tried to brush it off. Besides, Harry was fit—still is and forever will be—so you told yourself it’s normal and that you don’t need to fret about it.

After a million bumps and sudden brakes, you both arrived in Camden. You thought Harry was going to take you to the market, but he surprised you by stopping the scooter in front of a grey building.

“Alright, get down and wait for me here, I’ll be back in a tick, just gonna park there.” He said, and you hopped down immediately, handing him your helmet afterwards.

He was back with you shortly with a huge grin plastered across his face. “Ready t’av some fun?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Is it one of those escape room thing? Oh my God Harry, we are both dumb—we’ll never get out!”

Harry protested. “Hey!”

You burst into laughter when you saw the look on his face. Neither of you had ever been to an escape room before, so you didn’t know what to expect. But you couldn’t deny that you were quite excited, although never in a million years would you admit that to Harry’s face.

It turned out that you were required to book the room beforehand, and obviously you hadn’t since it was pretty spontaneous. Fortunately, there was one room left available right away.

“We only have the Zen Room available for now, would that be alright with you?” The receptionist kindly offered you.

“Oh, what is it about?” Harry asked her.

“Basically your mission is to help an orphaned Japanese girl retrieve her priceless family heirlooms. Are you familiar with Asian culture? Also it’s not a requirement but if you can speak Japanese that would make it so much easier.” She explained.

“Well, I know a bit about the culture, yeah,” Harry nodded.

You lifted your eyebrow as you looked at him. “What do you know?”

“Well, I went to BLACKPINK concert once.” He gave a lopsided grin and the receptionist had a little chuckle.

“Oh my God.” You facepalmed. “We’re never getting out aren’t we?”

Harry insisted that it was going to be just fine and that it was going to be fun so you agreed to do it. The receptionist gave you a quick briefing before walking you to the end of the hall where the Zen Room was.

“There’s a screen inside and I will give you clues from time to time. Have fun!” she said as she opened the door for both of you. You thanked her and as soon as the door was closed, the light turned on and you scanned the room around you.

The room wasn’t big, but there was something like a sliding door that you were sure that would open at some point and there’s got to be another room behind that.

“Oh bollocks! Everything is in Japanese, I can’t read anything.” You grumbled as you began looking around for clues.

Harry mumbled nonchalantly. “I can speak Japanese.”

“What?! I didn’t know that.” You replied. Feeling a little relieved and for the first time you thought maybe you two were going to nail it.

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “You never asked.”

“Alright, say something.” You requested, curious about what would he sound like speaking in foreign language. He was shit in French but you thought maybe he was good in Japanese?

“Uh, konnichiwa. Arigatou gozaimasu.”

You shook your head. “No, not just hi and thank you. Say a proper sentence.”

“I can’t. That’s the only words I know.”

“THAT’S IT?!” you hollered.

“Hey, it’s still Japanese!” he argued.

“Two words don’t count!”

“Knowledge is a knowledge no matter how small!” he insisted.

You could go on but you realised that you had a more important task. You wanted to solve the mystery before the time ran out because they gave free ice cream if you manage to get out in under an hour, and you were willing to fight for free ice cream, so you told Harry to find as much clues as he could in one part of the room whilst you searched the other part.

Harry jumped up in surprise and tumbled when the telly suddenly turned on and the receptionist’s face appeared on the screen. You cackled, and the receptionist failed to stifle her snigger. “Sorry, are you alright?” she asked.

“Well, physically I’m fine.” He replied. “Emotionally, I’m bruised.”

You howled at his response and the fact that he was looking down at the floor in embarrassment made it even harder for you to control your laughter. The girl gave you the first clue and told you to try to open the wooden box in the corner of the room. You tried to move things around before you heard Harry squeal when he found a bunch of keys.

“Hey, look at what I found!” he beamed proudly.

“What?” You asked curiously. “What is it?”

He showed you the keys that he found and shook it to make a rattling noise. “Keys!”

“Aaah! Open it! Open it!”

He struggled to get the key into the keyhole. He had tried five different keys and none of them seemed to work. “It doesn’t fit!” He grumbled, but then giggled not even two seconds afterwards. “Hehehe.”

You looked at him in confusion. “Why are you laughing?”

“If I got a penny for every time I said that.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think any of those keys will work. That’s too easy. There’s got to be something else.”

It was safe to say that you both sucked at it. You had been in the room for twenty minutes and so far both of you had only found two little coins, a silk hand fan and a bunch of useless keys. You had tried to open every drawer and looked at underneath the tables but you found nothing. But then the sliding door suddenly opened and both of you looked at each other in horror.

“Did- what- how?!” you gasped.

“I’ve got no idea! Do you think this room is haunted?” he deadpanned. He knew you were a wimp and he found pleasure from the look of your face.

You scolded him. “HARRY!”

He giggled and walked behind you into the other room. Actually, he knew why the door opened—because he opened it. He was moving some paintings around and as soon as he moved that painting of a fish on the wall, the door opened, but there was no way on earth he would tell you that. And being the pest that he was, he made some creepy, breathy sound of your name to wind you up, making you shudder in fear.

“Harry I swear to God if you don’t stop, the first thing I’m going to do the second we get out of here is to kill you.” You threatened him, and he howled in response.

There was a giant sudoku on the wall, a table with some antiques on top of it and an empty aquarium. Great. You were shit at sudoku and you were sure that Harry was even worse.

“Oooh! Sudoku!” Harry clapped his hands excitedly.

You glanced at him. “Do you know how to play it?”

“Of course! I’m really good at it. I’m the best. I’m the king of sudoku!”

“Have you ever played it?”

He shook his head. “Not once in my whole life.”

“Oh God, we’re never getting out.”

“Come on, let’s just put those numbers in the slot.” He suggested as he began to take the wooden numbers out of the box.

“That’s not how it goes.” You folded your arms and Harry tilted his head at you, his forehead furrowed.

“That’s literally how it goes!”

“I mean,” you licked your lips for a second out of habit before you went on. “There’s got to be some rules. We can’t just put random num- ah! I remember we can’t put the same numbers in one region!”

“You’ll find me in the region of the summer stars~”

You smacked your forehead with your palm when he started to sing. After knowing him for a year and a half and lived together for about seven months, you knew that he sings 24/7. Most of the times it’s nice because you couldn’t deny that he’s got beautiful voice, but sometimes it makes you want to tape his mouth shut.

“Shut your trap and just put it in!”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He smirked at you as he put a nine and another nine but upside down next to each other in the slots.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s upside down you absolute spoon.”

You ended up doing the sudoku alone because Harry was shit at it. You weren’t much better, but you were better nonetheless. He decided to go and look for other clues. When you were done with the sudoku—re: gave up—you frowned when you looked around and couldn’t find Harry. You walked to the other room and you finally found the bloke sat on the floor in the corner of the room eating a Twix.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I need to gain strength. You want a bite?” He replied as he took another bite of the chocolate bars. Yes, he always took a bite of both of them at once because he didn’t want one of the chocolates to get lonely in his tummy.

You chuckled. “Mate we’re shit at this we haven’t even done much.”

“But still fun, right? You’re having fun?” His eyebrows waggled as he licked his fingers after the last bite of the chocolate.

“I am. But I give up.”

He cackled. “We can still get ice cream after this if y’want? Screw free ice cream.”

“You’re buying?” You grinned at him, and he nodded.

“You know what? I’ve got a better idea. We’ll go to Shake Shack after this for some burgers and frozen custard cause daddy don’t skimp.”

“Great!” you cheered. “Am starving.”

“I swear you’re either starving, freezing or fuming.”

“I want to deny but you’re right.”

“What? Say tha’ again, can’t hear ya,” he teased.

You just sat together until the time ran out and the door opened, accepting the fact that you were just shit at it but hey at least you tried. After that, Harry fulfilled his promise of buying you a burger and frozen custard.

“Oh the cow in the meadow goes moo~” Harry started to sing again as soon as you sat down at the table with your food.

“……”

“Oh the cow in the meadow goes moo~”

“……”

“Then the farmer hits him on the head and grinds him up and that’s how we get hamburgers~”

***

“Y’alright ya wee cunt?” You greeted Harry, who had some random bird’s mouth attached to his neck. You were sure it would leave a mark or two. “How you been deein’?”

Harry pulled his neck away from the bird as soon as he heard you. “For God’s sake mate how much you’ve been drinking?!”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “Just a couple.”

“A couple my arse! C’mon let’s get you home, yeah?”

“What about your b- wait Harry, your bird’s gone!”

“S’alright. Not important. Let’s just get you home before you start calling people cunts again.”

“Hey! I don’t call people that.”

“You literally just called me that!”

“Well yeah that’s my pet name for you but I don’t call other people that.”

“What kind of pet name is that?!” Harry said as he held your hand and began walking towards the door. But just a couple steps away from the door, Rolling in the Deep came on and Harry gasped. “Oh fuck!”

“Wanna stay for this one song?” You smirked at him and you knew he wouldn’t say no.

***

The next morning you woke up feeling like you had just been hit by a truck. Your head was in bits and the rain outside sounded more like gunfire to you. You didn’t remember much from the night before and you surely didn’t know how you got home since you weren’t sure how pissed Harry was last night, but the fact that you woke up alone in your own bed made you sigh in relief.

“Morning, love. Coffee?” Harry greeted as he spotted you in the kitchen.

“Ssshh, why are you yelling?” You grumbled as you covered both of your ears with your hands.

Harry chuckled lightly and whispered. “I’m not? But alright. How are you feeling?”

“My head’s in bits. How much did I drink last night?”

“Well, the club’s gone because you drank it.” He teased. “Also you called me a cunt three times so you obviously had tequila.”

“Did I try to call him?”

“Yes. And you ran to the loo when I tried to take your phone away.”

“Did you manage to take it?”

“That I didn’t because I didn’t want people to think I was snooping in a ladies toilet. They’d kick me out.”

“Oh fuck! I called him didn’t I?”

“Nah, you didn’t. After you came in, I peeked inside and shouted so everyone could hear that you were about to call your ex. There were a couple girls inside and they talked you out of it.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle, and you wished you’d remembered it because that sounded funny. “What would I do without you, H.”

“Hey, s’nothing. What do you want to do today?” He asked you as he poured some muesli into the bowls.

“Sleep.”

And that was what you did for most of the day. After you had breakfast you took a nap and woke up around two in the afternoon. It was raining cats and dogs outside so you settled on the couch watching Friends because you spent the last few weeks watching rom-coms and if you watched another rom-com you swore you would lose your shit. You were snuggling up to Harry’s side, his left arm wrapped around you as you laughed at Joey and Rachel bickering. There were some slices of pizza left on the coffee table because none of you could be arsed to cook, along with two cans of coke.

“Do you want to finish that?” You asked Harry, tilting your head to the box of pizza.

Harry yawned before he answered. “I’m full.”

“Alright, I’ll clean that up.” You said as you rose from the couch.

“I’ll help.” Harry immediately picked up the box and you put the drinks on top of the box before you bent over to wipe the coffee table. “Watch out!” Harry warned you, but it was too late. Your back bumped the box of pizza, making the remaining coke spill all over his Rolling Stones shirt.

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” You panicked because you knew that was his favourite t-shirt. You grabbed a couple tissues right away and began rubbing the stained part of the shirt hoping it would help take away some of the liquid before it was stuck to the fabric. “Harry, I’m sor-“

You weren’t sure how it happened, but the next thing that happened surprised you. His lips were pressed against yours all of sudden, cutting you mid-sentence. He broke the kiss for two seconds to put the box of pizza and the cokes back on the table before leaning back to you and pressing his lips against yours again. You’d soften up this time around. You knew that was wrong. It was Harry and he was your best friend, not to mention that you live together and that would complicate the shit out of things. But it just felt so right. You never thought you would actually kiss him and you thought it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. You parted your lips when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip subtly, his hands moved from your back to cup your jaw.

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle against his lips when you felt something poking you in the stomach. Harry pulled his lips away instantly as soon as he realised what made you giggle. The look on his face made it harder for you to stifle your snigger.

“Shit,” his breaths quickened. “Sorry. I- I didn’t know what came over me. We’ve never- I shouldn’t have-“

You laughed as you dropped to your knees, and you swore Harry looked like he’d just seen a ghost. His pupils were dilated and he took in a sharp breath. “Y/N what are you doing?”

“Hunting elephants.”

“I’m serious.”

“What do you think? Is it not obvious?” You asked.

“It is. Fuck, I mean- you sure? You’re gonna-“ he blabbered.

“Suck you off, yes.” You cut him short and nodded.

He was less tense by then, a grin creeping up on his face “Such a dirty mouth.”

“Well I’m about to put your dick in my mouth so I’m not really concerned about oral hygiene right now.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hehehe.” He giggled, and you looked at him in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re gonna see my willy.”

“I know.”

“I’ve got some hair there.”

“Okay.”

“Not a lot because I still shave a little to keep it nice and pretty but-“

“Harry,”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, sorry.”

You didn’t know what came over you to make you want to do it, but it was a bit too late to chicken out, and frankly you wanted to do it. In four years of a relationship—yes, on and off but we’re going to round that up for dramatic purpose—you only gave Jamie head once so really, you didn’t know what came over you.

You knew he wasn’t small. You saw a glimpse of it a couple months prior when he forgot to lock the bathroom door, but you certainly didn’t get a good look of it. Little did you know that the next time you look at it, it’d nearly poke you in the eye.

His eyes widened when you looked up to him, muttering a series of profanities under his breath. You took a deep breath before taking it into your hand, and he choked on his breath as soon as your hand came into contact. He felt heavy in your hand. He was hard and you could see him already leaking from the tip.

“Give it a kiss, love. Please.” He begged, and you obliged. Kissing the tip lightly, before you began licking from the base to the tip. You weren’t really sure what to do, but the noises that he made egged you on so you thought maybe you were doing fine. His head lolled back when you gently sucked the tip.

The grunts and praises that kept flowing out of his mouth encouraged you to take it further into your mouth. It felt really heavy and you could just feel it weighing down on your tongue as he pushed past your lips. You took the rest of him in your hand and you began to work your hand and mouth around him in sync. You knew that there was a slight chance that both of you would regret what you were doing, but it didn’t matter in that moment.

You knew that he was close when he started whining. You let him go for a second to ask him before it was too late. “Where do you want it?”

You could hear his ragged breathing but he couldn’t form a sentence - that was how fucked up he was. You let him go again for a second. “Okay, aim wherever you like, just don’t get it in my ha- MATE YOU HAD ONE JOB!”

“Sor- sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He apologised as he fell down to the couch behind him, trying to even his breathing. “Love, that was, wow I- wow I can’t even speak.”

You chuckled. “S’alright. You’re welcome by the way.”

“You.” He shook his head in disbelief, still grinning from ear to ear. “Didn’t know you have it in you, babe.”

“I’m gonna take a shower then we’re gonna go out and play laser tag.” You smirked as you jumped to your feet.

“What?”

“What? You don’t want to play laser tag?”

“Well yeah of course I want to. S’fun seeing you curse at a bunch of eight year olds and make them cry.” He paused to take another deep breath before he went on. “But, uh, you don’t want me to reciprocate?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe later.” You gave him a lopsided grin.

“Fine we’re going. But-“

“What?”

“Wanna snog again before we go and get ready?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Okay.”

bow chicka wow wow

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry x y/n #best friend!harry #requested #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles concepts #harry styles fic

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cheriesjubiles · 3 years

Text

please don’t look under the read more i’m just testing

Can you imagine a world where we're all represented by a font? Huh, I wonder which one I would be? sees Arial Too straight. No! Not in that way! Just, straight, as in unexciting. sees Badaboom Too.. uh... Deadpool.... BROADWAY! Now that's the one! Now THAT'S the one! Hello Internet, welcome to GAME THEORY, where instead of putting a joke here I want to ask you a question. If your personality were represented by a font, what font would you be? Take a moment and put your font in the comments. I'm really curious to see what everyone has to say. Maybe find a couple new cool fonts to use. I'm getting bored with ol' Calibri 11. And with that out of the way, it's time to talk UNDERTALE. Now I don't think I've ever gotten this many requests to cover a game. Well, except for FNAF. And I suppose FNAF 2. OH and there was FNAF 3. Wait a minute, should I be worried about something here? Anyway, across the board on YouTube, Reddit, and Twitter, you all have wanted Undertale. And honestly, I'm glad you brought it to my attention. True loyal theorists will know that Earthbound is my favorite game of all time. So a self aware RPG in a similar style, WHOA MAN, it's like a gift from the indie gaming heavens. Undertale is a game where every character, from goat mom to grind fodder has a sympathetic design and a unique personality, motivations, goals, fears. Whether you're saving or slaughtering them, the game makes you feel something every time you enter an encounter. But to me, one character stood out amongst all the rest. SANS. A skeleton named after the font, Comic Sans, hence all the font references at the beginning of the episode. If you haven't played Undertale I'm sure that was a really weird opening. ANYWAYS, Sans is, well, there's a lot of mystery around this guy. And before we get into it, let me put up a very special spoiler warning: UNDERTALE is a game best experienced blind. So if you haven't played it, pause the video and come back after you've finished. I PROMISE YOU, I PROMISE you won't regret it. Alright, so everyone out of the pool and ready for the adult swim? Good. Because I'm feeling pretty determined to get to the bottom of Sans' mystery. So just to recap for those of you who haven't played the game and ignored the SPOILER WARNING, or just need a refresher, Sans is one of the two skeletal brothers who appears in the game. His partner is Papyrus, a loud, goofy trap lover also named after a font. But in the world of Undertale their origins are a big question mark. All you really know is what's given to us by a shopkeeper in Snowdin, who explains that Sans and Papyrus, quote, “just showed up one day and asserted themselves.” Weird, right? What's more is that, well, Papyrus is just kinda the goofy sidekick. Sans is much more complex. He likes fart jokes, but he's also incredibly powerful and deadly serious. Not only is his boss battle the hardest in the game, he's one of the only characters who has knowledge and power over space and time. He can take shortcuts around the world through ridiculous routes. Even is walking through walls. He also acknowledges that he's only one of infinite versions of himself, making self-aware commentary of the various timelines that you've played through in the game. He can even count the number of times he's killed you. He acts like an arbiter of this world, passing out judgements on the player's actions in the game, even explaining the secrets of EXP and LOVE, or EXECUTION POINTS and LEVELS OF VIOLENCE, just to clarify. In short, he just doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the world of monsters. But then, what, or who, is he? Well, the idea that he doesn't belong in underworld seems to be correct. The evidence seems to point the fact that he WAS, in fact, formerly a surface dweller. In the true pacifist ending of the game, as the group looks out onto the horizon, Papyrus asks Sans about the giant ball in the sky. Sans says, quote, “we call that the sun.”

This is important because A, the usage of the word WE, and knowledge of the sun shows that Sans has a kinship or knowledge with other humans, and B, that despite he and Papyrus both being skeletons, or, supposedly, brothers, and apparently appeared in underworld at the same time, they clearly-- uuuGGHH take two CLEARLY have two very different histories. Why would Papyrus not know the name of the sun but Sans would? We get further clues to Sans' origins as we hear him say multiple times he wants to "go home" or "go back." He says as much during his dinner date scene at the Mettaton hotel. He notices that the player wants to go home and says, quote, "i know the feeling." He then continues, "maybe sometimes it's better to take what's given to you." As though he ended up in the underworld by accident. AND in a genocide run during his boss fight he says, quote, "look, i gave up trying to go back a long time ago." End quote. And before you say he means going back to the surface world, that's clearly not the full story. His very next line of dialogue is, "and getting to the surface doesn't really appeal anymore either." Key word here, is EITHER. Yes, he seems to hail from the surface and wants to go back, but based on his dialogue he no longer considers it his home. It's as though the surface world he once knew is gone, as though he's from a different time. It's pretty intriguing. So we're left with a being that appeared out of nowhere, presumably from being from the human surface, but from a different time period, who seemingly has the power to teleport. That's a lot of questions and not a lot of answers. But here's where things get REALLY interesting. Sans has a hidden workshop that takes a fair amount of searching to find. You could say it takes a lot of DETERMINATION to unlock. Anyways, obligatory determination references aside, as you start to look for this easter egg Sans gives you a key to his room and says "it's time you learn the truth." After some searching you find the workshop which contains items that leave even more questions. A photo album featuring Sans and a bunch of smiling people you don't recognize, a badge, blueprints with illegible handwriting, and a broken machine hidden behind a curtain. In the latest update, one more detail was added. A handdrawn picture of 3 smiling faces with the words “don't forget.” so what does it all mean? Well a lot of Undertale theorists have been linking these details to a feature to a character named W.D Gaster. A ghostly character who never truly appears in the game. Honestly, covering him is a theory all unto itself, and probably one best saved for another day. Even still, none of the Gaster theories I've seen have been able to explain all the details. In particular, the photo album, and the badge. And that's what kept nagging me as I researched Undertale. A badge? That one in particular really stuck out to me. Why would such an oddly specific item to be hidden in the huge easter egg of a room? Something that supposedly reveals the truth about Sans? Badges just aren't important in Undertale. Then it hit me. What if this badge isn't from Undertale? What if this badge is from a completely different game? And was, in fact, the most important badge in the history of gaming? The Franklin badge. Now, for those of you wondering what I'm talking about, the Franklin badge is a pivotal item from the Mother series. You know, the one with Earthbound. Or, maybe you don't know that one either. Uh, you know, the one with Ness from Super Smash Bros? Yeah well, Ness is from Earthbound, and Earthbound is the second part in this larger Mother trilogy. Alright? Good. Anyway, the Franklin badge is a really important part of that series. It gets its start in the very first game and carries through the whole trilogy, saving your life multiple times in the process. It's SO important that nintendo has made it a staple item in the Smash Brothers series. So I asked myself; what if the badge in Sans' drawer was THAT EXACT badge?

Well first off, it made Undertale connected to my favorite game, thereby making it even COOLER, but that's still a pretty big logical leap. I needed more. Let me tell you, as I started looking, more and more pieces started to fit into place. At the end of Earthbound you're given a photo album, covering your adventures throughout the game. To me it's one of the best, most satisfying endings in gaming to look back on your journey in picture form. And what does Sans happen to have in his other drawer? A photo album with pictures of Sans with people you don't recognize. Of course you don't know them, they're not characters present in Undertale. And note the word that's used here, PEOPLE you don't recognize. Not underworld monsters. So that's 2 items oddly linked to the Mother series. But then, how do the blueprints and broken machine fit in? Well, in the final stretch of Earthbound, Ness and his 3 friends must travel to the past in order to have their final battle against the evil alien Giygas. To do that, Dr. Andonuts (remember him, by the way, he's going to be important later) with the help of the science geniuses Apple Kid and Mr. Saturn, create what's known as the Phase Distorter, a machine that allows people to travel through time and space. Except, it comes with a cost. It can't transport organic material. As a result, the young heroes must put their souls into robotic bodies to use the machine, and thus, save the world. I played this game back in 1997 and I'm not ashamed to admit that when I first saw this scene, I cried. It's DEVASTATING. Doctor Andonuts says goodbye to his son, these characters you've grown to love and care about are suddenly promising to sacrifice their lives. For all they know, there is no possibility of them being able to come back home. It's this incredibly dark departure in the final moments of what was otherwise a fun, quirky, and colorful RPG. So what does all of this have to do with Undertale? A LOT, actually. But the first thing you need to know is that Mr. Saturns are known for their, let's say, unique linguistic style. That would explain the illegible handwriting on the blueprints. And the machine? I think a broken Phase Distorter is behind that curtain. Now that may seem like a stretch, but it actually explains a lot. If Sans wound up in Undertale via Phase Distorter, it could provide a reason for why he's a skeleton. He used the machine as organic matter and suffered the consequences. Not killing him, but turning at least a part of him into a pile of bones. That could also explain why Sans has given up hope for going home. Remember the Phase Distorter is a time machine. By being in underworld, he's not only in a different place, but based on how he talks, he's also in a different time, with no hope of travelling back to the time he came from. But the crossovers between Earthbound and Undertale continue. When you speak to Apple Kid at the end of Earthbound, he's blown away by the astronomical odds of Ness overcoming Giygas, saying that he's going to continue studying the trait called courage, in order to harness its power. Seems awfully similar to the same experiments happening in Undertale around the trait of determination, no? Especially since so much has shown that Sans was a key player in those experiments. But I'm sure you also want physical evidence right? Well don't worry, because I have plenty. During one of the endings of Undertale, we see Undyne and Alphys hanging out on the beach on the surface world. A beach that bears a lot of similarities to the tropical resort location named Summers that you play through in Earthbound. In fact, the geographic layout of the surface bears some striking similarities to the world of Mother. When Undertale's crew of monsters are finally able to reach the surface and look out over the earth, they're met with a beautiful sunset falling across the landscape of a tall mountain, a large city, and a sandy area adjacent to water. Notice the sun's reflection to indicate water, and a lack of trees in this middle section here, hence the sand.

Well, in Earthbound you have the big city of Fourside, complete with skyscrapers, which you reach via a desert that just so happens to be adjacent to some water, and to the east, the mountain in Onett where a meteorite lands on Earth. I always called it Aw-nett. But if that's not clear enough for you, Mother 1, Earthbound Zero, Earthbound Beginnings, whatever you want to call it, it's had a lot of names, had a map laying out the same geographic landscape. A tall mountain to the east of a large city, separated by a desert, with all of it up against a coast. I don't know about you, but to me it seems like there's a definite connection between the world of Eagleland (Eagleland? Again, unclear how its pronounced.) between the world of Eagleland and the surface world of Undertale. But the strongest physical connection, one that definitely unites these two franchises, comes from none other than Papyrus himself. He wears a custom-made costume known as his “battle body”. But if you look really closely at the design on the armor, you'll notice some markings on the chest. Is it just a throwaway detail? Ohoh NO, that right there is an exact match to the ones that appear on the chests of Starmen, the most iconic enemy of Earthbound. And look at the way he stands! I always thought it was awkward until i saw the two characters side by side. Papyrus’ curved arm and hand is a DIRECT match to the curved arms of the Starmen in the Mother series! In short, we have some incredibly strong proof that the Earthbound universe is somehow connected to the Undertale world, which brings us back to our initial question, WHO IS SANS? Well, what if we took it one final step and said that Sans happened to be Ness from Earthbound? Sent through the Phase Distorter during a test of courage, carrying the Franklin badge and his photo album and his trusty backpack. Not only do all the items in the workshop suddenly fit, but so does Sans’ behavior. Remember, Sans can seemingly teleport. And Ness just happens to have the PSI ability to teleport. Now look the way Sans always stands, hands in his pockets, directly facing the camera. It's a very similar stance to how Ness is depicted standing in most marketing for the game. It even explains why Sans bleeds when you finally hit him. He is, or at least, WAS, a human. Oh and finally, Sans is only one letter removed from being an anagram of Ness. That's just a fun one. I thought it was worth mentioning. But if there was any doubt, we have to look no further than the creator's previous work. Toby Fox, the man behind Undertale, had previously worked on a Halloween hack for Earthbound. But this just wasn't a simple reskin. The Halloween hack tells the tale of Dr. Andonuts after the events of Earthbound. Remember, I pointed him out? He's the one who made the Phase Distorter. In Toby Fox’s version of the story, we see that after Giygas' defeat, the souls of the kids never return home. Instead, by going to the past to defeat Giygas, they create a new timeline that they're stuck in. As a result, Jeff never reunites with his father Dr. Andonuts. And Dr. Andonuts goes crazy with guilt, because HE’S the one responsible for creating the time machine, and extracting the souls of his son and his son's friends to send them back to what he assumes was their death. In his mind, he's killed 4 kids. And in Toby Fox's game, he's lost his mind trying to deal with that guilt. I'm telling you, this hack is DARK. that said, you see a lot of Undertale in this game. The appearance of Amalgamates, the first use of the awesome song Megalovania, the prototypes for Flowey? And the theme of having the choice to be nonviolent in an RPG, SPARING your enemies. But then why's all this matter to the theory? Well, remember, in Toby Fox's version of the story, the kids don't come back. They're stuck in the past, with no hopes of getting home. Just like Sans. And, in the hack, one character is oddly missing, with no explanation as to why. NESS. Presumably in this timeline his soul is in a different place than his 3 friends.

In short, Undertale is a continuation of Toby’s version of Earthbound, with Ness never being able to get home, adopting the name Sans, and accompanied by Papyrus, a former Starman, an alien force able to speak English and still equipped with his armor, and signature posture, but without any knowledge of earthly things... like the Sun. The pieces all just seem to fit. Now all we need is an appearance from Pokey/Porky and we’ve got ourselves a true sequel. But hey, that's just a theory. A GAME THEORY! THANKS FOR WATCHING!

#it’s the sans is ness game theory video copypasta

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gukptune · 5 years

Text

— phase one, the reap (m.)

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: hungergames!au, hungergames!bts, tribute!jk, career tribute!reader

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of death, brutality, murder, all things hunger games, very mean/ very cold y/n, angst, smut

Summary: twenty five years after the fall of the second rebellion comes the fourth quarter quell. two different people from two different worlds stand out like sore thumbs within the pool of tributes―catching the eyes of others, sponsors and most importantly...each-other.

Words: 3.4k+

Note: a shorty for the first part of the series!!!! super excited for this and I hope you all like it toooo!

SERIES INDEX: one last breath

— phase one: the reap

SERIES MASTERLIST

The dreadful day has come again, the day that many feared, despised, suffered from—the reap, the games.

Your district, a powerful one, important to the Capitol, stood with the president even to your dismay. Again comes the grim day, the skies had turned a dark gray, even nature was unhappy.

It was visible to you, outside your home the tides roared with anger and hatred for the reap, you could hear the planes and jets ripping the sky open forewarning to you to ready.

Your mother had knew the day would come, the day that you’d step ahead and join the games. Your whole life was built on this, this game. Your mother hadn’t cared much for the chance of her child’s death, of course she didn’t, you were her eldest of four. Your father had died during the games before you were born, your mother had remarried and birthed more children for her pathetic husband.

The two of them agreed that to better the finances of their family that you should enter the career training and provide for them when you’d win the games, if you would.It was good for them, apparently, truly it was one less mouth to feed even if your district was drowned with food. They didn’t want to bother with you, mother must’ve hated you—she loved the others and would never want them to join the games. Maybe it was because you reminded her of father so much, she was angry that he left her, yet here she was forcing you away.

You were never home anymore, when you were five you were sent to the career camp, living your life training with your fellow future tributes—with the occasional visit from your family, mother and her husband standing by the gates as your kind siblings would embrace you with their love.

But today was different, you were home, readying up for the reap—for the quarter quell.You were uneasy, feeling tense, what could the twist be this time—which twist will be chosen from the glass of many.

Without a word spoken you got on your stupid dress and forwarded towards the courtyard, all the children settled in their spots as well as you. Your younger brother had reached the age of reap and he stood with the boys, looking over at you worry in his eyes. He was worried, why, there was no reason to be, many careers lurked amongst the crowd and never had a child in your district be chosen by force.

The Capitol’s representative had made her way up the stage, looking over the crowd with an obnoxious grin, “Welcome, welcome.”

You could already sense the annoyance she had caused amongst the crowd, people kicking at the pebbles by their feet or rolling their eyes. All you could think was: Uh, get to the point.

“I welcome you all to the reap of the Annual Hunger Games! This year is a little different, as you all may know this year marks the hundredth year since the fall of the Rebels, which means that this year is our fourth Quarter Quell!” Her high pitched voice scratches your ear drums with such pain that makes you wince.

She continues after she pauses for you to take in what she had said, “You all look very young, must’ve missed the last Quarter Quell. During a Quarter Quell the President shall pick a twist that changes up the reap, exciting isn’t it!”

With that you see the screen behind her light up with the Capitol’s anthem. You shifted your weight, kicking out your legs from standing for this long.

“Now let’s listen as our President joins us.”

The music plays for a few seconds before you could see the face of your relatively new president. President Snow, which is Coriolanus Snow’s son who was born just before his father’s death. Many could say the previous President was cruel, his son was no different.

“Thank you, thank you all.” You could hear the cheering through the speakers, which means that the President had an audience of very excited citizens of the Capitol, lucky them.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! This is the hundredth year of the Hunger Games.” The man spoke as with such pride and excitement, the type of pride and excitement that was only felt in the Capitol.

Other districts alike yourself, apart of the alliance has benefits. You didn’t hate the Capitol but you wouldn’t help but dislike the delusional retards that live there. Little do they know they’re easily played by the President.

“It was written in the charter of the games that every twenty five years there would be a quarter quell, to keep fresh for each new generation—the memory of those who died and the uprisings against the Capitol,” he spoke with such authority and venom laced in his tongue as he spoke about the rebels, “Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance and now on the hundredth Anniversary of the defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the fourth Quarter Quell—”

Cheers, claps and joy from the audience was loud and clear. A large glass sphere was brought out with what seemed like hundreds of folded parchment, all written with different twists made by the game-makers.

The President reached his hand into the sphere, his hand all the way to the bottom. He grins as he pulls his hand out with a choice in it. He waves the paper around as the crowd roared with excitement, you were excited to, twists are always a new change to the games.

You’ve watched nearly all the previous games, most being exciting. It was normal for the other Careers to not fear the games too, your whole life trained for the games. The only thing you worried about were the other tributes but when you watched the games, the Career pack managed to outwit each other instead of out-power, and you’d say you’ve got a lot of wits.

The President opened the paper, and began to read out the writing, “—as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest amongst them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this—the fourth Quarter Quell game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped—only through volunteering.”

The crowd grew silent within an instant, you could sense the air shifting as the children lessened with worry. An Career district were cheering inside, it was easy, the most capably at the time would volunteer and you knew this year it would be you.

Yet, at the back of your mind you wondered how the other districts would do, how they would every come to a conclusion, maybe there wouldn’t even be a choice. God, who would ever volunteer to die.

“But of course, I wouldn’t imagine many of you would think of volunteering but you must—or the game would not happen, and without a game how would we remind the rebels that due to their ways their children must suffer their consequences—suffer the consequences of the actions of which their foolish, grandparents and parents did,” there wasn’t a cheer after this, the crowd seemed shocked to say the least, “Without a volunteer of a male and female tribute from each District, the District shall be punished—punished by the hour, with each hour the punishment getting worse until someone breaks and does the right thing. I’d hope we wouldn’t have to come to that, happy reaping, and may the odds be every in your favour.”

As the screen shuts off, you could hear the clapping, no cheering. The smug face on the President could possibly anger so many that feared losing their child or their own lives but not here, here it was easier, but still who in their right mind would want to jump into death—not even you, but what were you going to do, the right thing.

As the representative stepped back into the centre of the stage you could see her give the crowd a nervous smile, “Well, then. We’re going to need a male and female tribute from District four, let’s take a female volunteer first shall we?”

You blankly stared back at the woman, who waved her hand about as if welcoming whoever would step out, of course that person would be you. It was agreed upon before the Reap began, since forever really. You’d have a time frame of which you may have to volunteer as tribute, this year just so happened that your mentor decided you were ready.

The ground crunched loudly through the silence, as the woman’s face lit up as you stepped out of the crowd, “I volunteer.”

“Ah! There she is, come bring her up.”

The guards shining in white escorted you up without another word, it was the usual. Nothing new around your district during the reap, it was an illegal practice for careers to exist but of course, having connections to the Capitol allowed anything to get by.

“What a beautiful girl, what’s your name dear?” The woman eased you towards the microphone as you got up the stairs.

“Y/n.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” The crowd clapped, as the woman took you away from the microphone to announce the boys.

You were pretty sure who’d be your partner, it was agreed.

“Now for the boys, I’d like—”

“I volunteer!” The crowd ripped their head around to the boy who interrupted.

Are you fucking kidding. He’s—this wasn’t his year, what was he doing. Your chosen district partner was shocked, he looked around for our mentor who didn’t say a word at all, he only looked at the boy making his way up the stage with a grin on his face.

“Oh, of course, come then let’s introduce you.”

As the boy took his stance up close to the microphone you were confused to say the least, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Cute name for a cute boy,” she compliments again, ushering you over to stand next to him.

Which you did as you kept looking over, wondering what was going through the damn boy’s head. He stood there proud for some reason, smiling ear to ear like a freak.

“There we have it, our tributes for the hundredth Hunger Games, good luck within the Quarter Quell children—there are always twists in the game, may the odds be ever in your favour.”

The crowd repeated her last line as it repeated in your head like an ominous hymn.

Within the victor’s camp you two marched towards the main building for your mentor, ready to leave for the Capitol in an hour.

Blasting the door open you ran towards your mentor, screaming your ears off, “Why did he volunteer? He wasn’t suppose to volunteer this year!”

The victor of the eighty-second Hunger Games, Min Yoongi of District Four places his drink down on the table with a blank expression, “I don’t know, y/n, he just did it.”

“Why did you do it?” This time you directed the question to him, Taehyung.

The boy looked over at Yoongi before he looks back at you, shrugging, “I wanted to be in the Quarter Quell, nothings wrong with that.”

He sat himself down, rolling his shoulders out, you couldn’t believe it. How were you suppose to win the games with a twat like him, who’s so overly narcissistic and self centred—the boy who refused to pick a female partner to train with and trained all by himself. A selfish prick.

“He’s going to get me killed.” You pointed at him.

Yoongi sighs, getting up of his seat, he places his hands on your shoulder looking into your eyes, “We both know, you’re best fit to win the game. He’s not a worry for you, he won’t pull you down, he’s good on his own. He’s fast, light and will hide well, you on the other hand—you can take people down and that’s what you’re going to do, that’s what your whole life worked towards—killing everyone in the game.”

“We have no worries for most districts. You have the Career pact, use your charm, your wits, y/n. Manipulate them, make them fall for you, them and the people of the Capitol—then rip them out from underneath. We’ll get a message of the tributes soon, mostly from the Career Districts—I’d imagine it’ll take a while for the rest to push someone into killing themselves,” Yoongi walked towards the desk as he held up a tablet, “One, Two, Four, you’ll make the boys want you—make the girls want to be you or be scared of you. The rest well, they don’t stand a chance.”

Yoongi looked tapped his fingers against the screen, awaiting the messages, yet he seemed reluctant, worried.

“But I do fear for more twists, they’d do anything to make the games interesting. Don’t let your guard down, both of you, make friends, make enemies, know who you can trust, want to trust, want to kill.”

With that Taehyung looked towards you and nodded.

“We could pretend to be lovers,” Taehyung spoke, he kicked his feet up to prop against the table in between you two as you sat quietly in the train, “Like those stupid twelves years ago, who even believed that shit.”

You chuckled, wondering the same thing, maybe he wasn’t so bad. He was realistic, at least.

“We could pretend to hate each other,” You suggested, “During the training we make alliances with different people, making them thing we’d want each other dead first and then we make them kill each other.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened, he twirled the knife in his hand stopping as he grinned, “I like that, I think we’ll get along very well.”

“I think so too.”

“You all remember what I’ve said right?” Yoongi watched as the two of you nod, “This is your first day of training, make it count.”

He stands back and he allows the two of your to enter into the training room. Littered with tributes chit chatting, training, picking on eachother. The tributes all sported the same outfit, very skin-tight athletics wear in different cuts. Some wore shorts, some wore pants, some had long sleeves, some had short sleeves.

You opted for sleeveless, and loose pants, all in black and your arm guards that laced your fingers like gloves and ran up to your underarm, with the elbows being much more flexible. Reminiscent of swimmer’s wear, it helped you with being faster in the water keeping your body tight, though the pants were a comfort choice—it wouldn’t be legible for the games being so loose and able to get caught on things.

As you both entered you saw the rest of the tributes look at you, immediately getting into the role you glared at Taehyung as you left his side. Him seemingly growling and also going away.

Great job.

You had it set out, maybe you’d intimidate, then see who you’d like to create a pact with—even if there was an automatic alliance with the Careers you weren’t so sure you’d let them free load so easily, as you looked at the tributes sporting the numbers they looked back seemingly giving you a nod, especially the boys.

You looked away, your way towards an empty mat, getting on your bum you began to stretch out. Fully splitting and taking out all the tight spots. Your eyes were closed for the most part, trying to feel it out, then you felt some sort of presence. A weight shifted the mat and you whipped your head towards it, making the culprit bolt back.

District thirteen. A godly pathetic District in the eyes of everyone.

You were surprised to see the boy so fit, muscle in all the right places and slim in all the good places too. His doe eyes blinking as he tries to catch his breath, you looked around to see no one was getting a look at this bold thirteen getting all up in your space.

“What do you want?” You spat, glaring at him as you began to stretch your waist.

He clears his throat, pointing at your body lazily, “You’re doing it wrong.”

Your raised your eyebrow at him, stopping in your tracks.

“The way you’re stretching, it’s only going to make you more tense,” He explained, you dropped your shield, seeing that he was stepping closer.

You opted to make friends first then, “So what am I doing wrong?”

“You’re—uh, putting against the muscle, you should pull with it—” He sat down next to you, feeling the heat that came off his sweaty body, he must’ve been training for a while already, “—can I?”

He motioned towards you with his hands out, he wanted to show you how. You didn’t argue, letting the boy do what he wants. He mumbled a cute thank you, pulling you at the waist flush against him boldly.

Your breath hitched, hoping no one was seeing this. He eases you into the position he sees fit and well, it was kind of better. You couldn’t feel your muscle fighting you and instead feeling your muscle relax under his touch.

After a few minutes of this, he finished, stopping as his hands stayed put around you.

“I’m Jungkook, from District Thirteen, and you are?” He asked you.

Making you feel as if this was all a part of a plan. You turned to face the boy, your face merely a few centimetres away from his own, “An alliance you want, right?”

His face froze for a second, knowing that you already saw right through him.

“You don’t want an alliance with me, nor my district partner. If you know who I am I don’t make friends, I make a list of those I want to kill. Your mentor may think that being in my pact makes your chances better, it doesn’t you’re better off hiding until the game’s over—”

“You’re a career, of course being in your pact would make my chances better,” He interrupts, again boldly, “This may mean nothing to you, but I at least want to hope I can make it to the end—to win maybe, to go home and help my family.”

His words struck you, you completely forgot that these tributes all volunteered—every year there would be an unlucky tribute from each District that got chosen but this year, he put himself here—why would he do that if he knows he’s needed at home.

“You know how it went right? We all had to volunteer...it may have been easy for you but I didn’t want to be here...” You could see his eyes wavering, you just kept quiet listening to him, “No one volunteered at first, then they took our water, then our food, they beat our old and then they began to execute them—think of that, killing our family because we didn’t want to die.”

His ears ran freely down his face at this point, you wanted to, you really wanted to just wash them away. Somehow help him, somehow just give him hope—but it was the Hunger Games, people win or they die, it was just the truth.

Before you could usher another word, those previous Career boys came up to you guys, snickering and laughing, “Look at that, a twelve trying to get a four on his side, how sad, did it work?”

District one, Jung Hoseok, a man of such a vile tongue and cocky attitude, you looked between the two, choosing a side. You shrugged, getting up and pushing Jungkook’s hand away from you, “Not really.”

You made your way towards Hoseok, who smirked with his arms out to embrace you. You pushed your back against his front as he wrapped his hand around your waist, his head leaning against your shoulder, “Did you feel bad, about it, about how they killed all those wastes of space.”

“No—they deserved it, why would you rebel against the Capitol. They died because they made mistakes, I wish they would’ve killed more of you, pity they’d have to waste such a potential like you to sacrifice himself for those old pieces of shit’s mistakes.” Your vile tongue slipped out, knowing that it would hurt him but you needed to make Hoseok know, he can trust you.

“No one forced me, I—”

“They did though, because if you didn’t volunteer, I bet no one else would and you’d feel bad for letting people die. At least you had honour, I watched your reap, you’re the only brave one—even your bitch of a district partner had to be dragged up the stage and forced to join before more casualties could occur, pathetic.”

You didn’t stay to see him respond. Hearing the laughter that came out of Hoseok’s lips was enough to take your mind of the damn Thirteen. You can’t be having your heart pick your allies during a game like this, no.

#jungkook #bts #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts smut #hungergames!au #hungergames!bts #career!reader #tribute!jungkook

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thanksjro · 4 years

Text

Telefunken, A Prequel to Eugenesis: The Future Is Obsessed With Making Babies

All These Materials, And I Still Had To Keep The Wiki Open The Whole Time

This short story was included with the secondary publication of Eugenesis, which happened in 2007, six years after the first run. Yep. He had multiple publication runs. Back when you had to actually go and talk to people about what you wanted published instead of doing everything online. For a novel-length fan fiction about murdering space robots and then having them give birth to tentacle monsters.

I wish I had the friggin’ brass balls Roberts does.

Telefunken as a term doesn’t mean anything in any language, but that doesn’t mean we can’t gain any sort of understanding using context clues.

Tele- as a part of Greek, means “from a distance.” So whatever’s happening is far off. In the future, perhaps? The pre-story quotes certainly seem to imply such a thing.

A couple hundred years into the future, actually. With a list like that, one has to wonder just who the hell can get into Maccadam’s these days.

Funken itself actually is a word- it’s German for spark. So “from a distance” + “spark”. Alright, let’s see where this goes.

Is… is this someone trying to convince someone else to read Eugenesis? Is Roberts making the space robots read this batshit story? Is he threatening them? Because making someone read an entire book’s worth of slaughter of their race sort of feels like a threat.

Okay, moving on to actual story, our narrator starts the day by blinding himself. He turns the input on his optics all the way up and stares at the sun.

I don’t know why.

Once he’s done that, he reflects on the nature of change, and how some things just can’t be fixed.

I see we’ve hit our fascist phase. Because they’re only allowed to enjoy the rejuvenation of the planet if they’re wearing Prowl’s face on their chest, right?

Our narrator seems to have an alternate take on the walls, though- seems more like they’re trying to keep the citizens in as opposed to the ruffians out.

Scene jump, and we’re in the middle of a conversation between two folks about some guy who killed an Autobot and fled. Yeah, no one with dialogue has been properly identified as of yet. All I know currently is that one of the conversationalists is a commander. Something tells me Nightbeat’s involved with the scene.

But that’s just a hunch.

So, looks like the Transformers had a little more room for the war buffet after all, because they’ve had at least two named squabbles in the last couple centuries. Hence, our narrator is off to try and corroborate a rumor that Galvatron is still kicking around.

He heads through the religious sector to get downtown, lamenting that Iacon’s been reduced to a military city-state in order to keep some façade of peace going on. He didn’t go through the hell that was the Eugenesis Wars for this.

Ooh, a dash of fantastic racism to really bring out the acidic taste of Orson Welles 1984. Maybe this is Prowl, actually, which would explain why he hasn’t been explicitly named. Would kind of ruin the whole end of the novel, wouldn’t it?

I’m not saying it’s Prowl because of the racism. More the clean dividing of folks into categories and statistical data.

Our narrator walks through the throng, ignores a homeless veteran, and passes by a crowd of Creationists on pilgrimage, and with that he’s off to Autobot City 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Meanwhile, back with the guys reading this account- yes, turns out they’re outside of this particular story- more details are being revealed.

The Turning, you say.

Vampire robots it is, then.

Back with the narrator, he’s just found what he’d been looking for- an Autobot badge, close enough to the real thing to work for his purposes. He heads inside something called an “ingestion tank”- I’m imagining the fucking eating chairs from IDW2- and oh-so-sneakily adds a few screw-looking bombs to the badge.

Hmm. I’m thinking my guesses are just a bit off-base.

Back at the narrative, our narrator has just arrived at the Ministry, where Sideswipe and his boys are truly living up to the ACAB lifestyle- Sideswipe is literally unloading clips into a crowd of protestors. Apparently this isn’t anything new.

Oh-kay. So. Back in the epilogue for Eugenesis, Wheeljack made an offhand comment about Rodimus wanting to look into streamlining the biomorphic reproductive process, using the power of science. This was something Ratchet really wasn’t thrilled about- he’s the Transformer-equivalent to being child-free, I guess- and let me tell you something: if Ratchet thinks something is a bad idea, it almost absolutely is. But it looks like Rodimus got his way, if our narrator’s cryptic statements are to be believed.

Let’s get fucking weird for a second.

Millions of years ago the biomorphic process was decided to be too slow for the colonial ways of the Cybertronian Empire, so morphing centers were created, where protoforms were basically injected with false memories to kickstart their lives. Think MTO programming from IDW, but more mechpreggy. This practice died out when the shortage of energon caught up with everyone, and was left behind for the most part.

EXCEPT FOR THIS. Turns out that Kup actually wasn’t all that old, he just thought he was. Why did they do this? Assumedly for the preservation of their research. Does it factor into anything ever for Kup? Nah, not really. Also:

🄹🄰🄼🄴🅂 🅆🄷🄰🅃 🅃🄷🄴 🄵🅄🄲🄺

Telefunken really is what makes the director’s cut of Eugenesis. This is where all the really weird shit is. If you ever fucking read this nightmare of a book, you better make sure Telefunken is included, because you will be reeling.

Anyway, the planet can’t handle more than a few hundred thousand robots, energon-wise, so the Treaty of Antimorphism was signed- a sort of “no more mechpreg” agreement between the Autobots and Decepticons. Not sure how they’re going to stop someone’s torso from vomiting up a goo baby, seeing as the process appears to be completely random, but they probably know more about the process than I do.

Yeah, that treaty is broken almost immediately. I mean, come on, we know who’s writing this story, it’s amazing that the idea was even remotely considered.

The Autobots decided that they were going to start underground biomorph rings, where Lifers- y’know, the guys who can actually do this sort of thing- spit out protoforms on command to supplement the Autobot forces, in case more war broke out.

They can give birth on command.

I-

I just-

How-

Okay. Sure.

BUT HOW-

Of course, a lot of people had a problem with this, seeing as they already had a solution to the problem of a limited population, in the copies of everyone’s brains Rodimus had commissioned after the events of Eugenesis. Yeah, that’s the root of the problem right there: it was unnecessary. Certainly not the violations of the free will and rights of the poor bastards who got chained to a table and told to start pumping out new robots at what was probably gunpoint in the basement of some bombed out building. Nope! Just that the whole thing was superfluous.

That was about the time that the Anticopyist protests started- how convenient- and the mind crystals were buried, never to see the light of day. Of course, Star Saber might have had a hand in quietly recovering the crystals, but that’s just hearsay.

It’s all going down the tubes, really- High Commands gearing up for the inevitable civil war that’s about to break out amid all this bullshit. Prowl and Nightbeat are trying to put a stop to things, but what are two guys with crippling depression going to do against all this crap? Not much. Especially now that there are Neogens discovering that they aren’t who they think they are.

The slogan is “maximum speed, maximum efficiency.” I’ll let you take a wild guess as to what these weirdos call themselves.

Sideswipe and his goons get done with killing civilians, and our narrator can finally get on with their mission- an interview with Rodimus Prime, who is dying. Again. We just can’t keep our Primes alive, can we? Can’t keep ‘em dead either, but that’s not the point.

But I thought Cyclonus was key.

…I’m sorry, that was dumb.

Anyway, our narrator gets through security, bombs undetected, and prepares to finish his thesis.

These outside conversationalists are kind of morbid, aren’t they? Still, we wouldn’t have the narrative if they weren’t, so thanks? I guess? For being weird voyeurs of terrorist activities?

The narrator makes his way to the basement, where they’ve got Rodimus stashed.

But how are his tiddies? Are they ridiculously huge? Does he breast boobily down the hall towards you? Too bad First Aid’s dead, he’d be all over this behemoth.

You know, last time we saw Springer, his sole purpose in life was getting high. Wonder how he got to this point in just a couple hundred years. That’s nothing to these guys. Guess he traded in the space-heroin for juicing.

Springer, because I guess he’s kind of an asshole in this story, threatens our narrator, saying that he’s got a joor- pretty much an hour- to talk to Rodimus, and one second beyond that he’s throwing his ass out the door. He makes this point very emphatically, and repeatedly. Springer needs to take a chill pill.

With that, our narrator double-checks that his rigged badge is still there- how many times are we going to blow up Rodimus Prime?- and enters the medvault.

Rodimus isn’t doing so hot.

Despite the obvious lag in his brain, Rodimus is happy to be of service to a young student, and invites the narrator to sit and stay awhile.

Now that’s just cruel, Roberts. You gotta give Rodimus something, you already killed his best friend and most of his comrades. No wonder he’s depressed in every continuity, all the writers are mean as hell to our boy Rodders.

Our narrator starts off by asking about Scorponok, and Rodimus takes so long to answer he wonders if the guy just went ahead and died. But Rodimus, ever a good sport, does eventually answer. He talks about all the major Decepticon players, and our narrator smiles and listens, waiting for the point where Unicron is mentioned. He really wants to hear about Unicron, and can practically taste his presence in the room, seeing as Rodimus is still possessed.

You see, our dear narrator is a space-satanist.

Unfortunately, when Rodimus finally utters the name of the robot-devil, nothing happens.

No, see, if the Transformers had Plan B, none of this mechpreg stuff would be fucking happening.

This is where our outside conversationalists come more into play, revealing themselves to be Star Saber- finally entering the story proper- and Great Shot, who I can’t seem to find anything on. We get treated to the security footage from this point on, getting a lovely scene of our narrator yelling at a dying old man, as the two discuss the Turning. It’s a major point of concern for a lot of the troops, and we’re shown why, as Rodimus starts having a Reagan-from-the-Exorcist-level fit about the same time as our narrator drops his bomb. The room explodes, and our narrator escapes out into the world.

From here on, all of the narrative comes from out narrator’s internal recording. He keeps running, beyond the walls of the city and into the Rad Zone, until he hits Eocra. Eocra is where that chunk of space rock from Liars A-to-D was housed. I guess we’ll find out if it’s still there.

He requests an audience with Servion from a member of the Brotherhood of Chaos whom he doesn’t recognize, and is ushered inside.

Into an underground room with a window showing the stars and just packed with Decepticons. Even Blitzwing’s there- I’d figured he’d been one of the POWs who kicked the bucket, but apparently not. Turns out that door he went through was a teleport. They want our narrator’s thesis. He hands it over immediately.

Go for it, guys, his resume from today alone is beyond impressive. He’s done more in the last six hours than most of your top guys have done in their entire careers.

The Decepticons say that they’ll be in touch, and with that they shove him out of the room. Well, that’s that. Guess it’s time to go and see if the rumors about the losers in Kalis are a bunch of bunk after all.

And that’s the end of his datalog.

Back with the ‘Cons, the boys are gossiping about their new hire. Turns out he’s one of theirs anyway- a Neogen, and his name is Tarantulus.

I checked, it’s a valid alternate spelling of his name.

Over with Galvatron- did you honestly think he was dead?- the edgy bastard’s preparing for the Final Purge. Turns out he’s still under Unicron’s thumb, even after all this time. He’s pleased to hear that Rodimus is dying, and recalls being able to corrupt the Lifecode when he needled the Prime during other desperate moments. He decides he’s going to do that again.

Back with Start Saber and Great Shot, the boys are cooking up some tasty treats in their politically-powered lie kitchen. As far as the public knows, Tarantulus was shot to death by the guards when he approached the wall. Prime’s Turned, which sucks for him, but might work out in Star Saber’s favor. Just too bad that that one guard got in between Rodimus and the bomb blast.

So I guess Star Saber being less than piously heroic is just a Roberts thing. Alrighty then.

That’s the end of Telefunken. This answers as many questions as it presents, leaving us at a net-neutral for understanding just what the fuck is going on. Awesome.

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #eugenesis #telefunken #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing

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rkxsungwoon-blog · 5 years

Photo

☆ mga5 callbacks; june 27; interview !

once the performances are over, the ceos retire to discuss the results of the day and, subsequently, the eliminations. letting out a sigh, sungwoon slumps forward in his seat and fiddles with the loose zipper on his keyboard’s cover. the day’s exhaustion slams into him in the span of a few seconds. after four odd hours stuck in these uncomfortable chairs, he thinks he might be ready to go home. but the most important part of this whole ordeal is yet to come: to see who actually makes it onto the show as an official contestant and who will have their journey cut short. the worried frown on sungwoon’s face is more for woojin, kenta, and minhyun than himself. they did amazingly well and deserve to make it through. just this round, he thinks, wringing his hands together. just let them get through this round. let us all get through this round.

he hasn’t really considered what he would do if he gets eliminated here and now. laugh at himself, maybe. go through another crisis of ability? sungwoon made it past this point last year, and he’s much better now than he was back then. he wants some sort of acknowledgement of his skills and his growth, but he knows just as well that the universe doesn’t owe him anything. with everything empty enigma has already accomplished, maybe he’s reaching for the stars. however, sungwoon has never been okay with just being content. if he can push forward for more, he’ll take it. so he wants to survive today, and next week, and the week after that. sungwoon refuses to let himself consider the alternatives.

the staff call individuals out one by one while the ceos deliberate. he’s a little confused until someone lets it spill that they’re doing more interviews. frankly, it’s unexpected; sungwoon can only remember doing one interview last year, and it wasn’t until episode seven. this is a holdover from earlier seasons, apparently, so sungwoon is happy to just roll with it. interviews don’t phase him, and he certainly has a lot to say about the performances he’s watched so far. some of his friends are… not as forthcoming, and he is absolutely thinking about woojin here. god, he hopes woojin will be okay during the interview.

“ha sungwoon!” he’s deep in conversation when he hears his name and nearly jumps in surprise. after asking keta to watch over his keyboard, he follows the staff to get his hair and make-up retouched. in spite of his tiredness, he chats amicably, gently prodding them for any idea of what to expect during the interviews. one of the make up artists laughs at his attempts and says, “you’ll do just fine, sungwoon.” he takes her reassuring words to heart and heads into the room ready to get through this. all he has to do is remember to reign in a few of his more passionate opinions, but if there’s one thing sungwoon does feel confident in, it’s his ability to know what is appropriate and what isn’t.

“welcome back, sungwoon. this isn’t your first time on the mgas, but we’re still curious to hear how you felt when you received news of the callback.”

after greeting the interviewer and taking a seat, he ponders the first question. “honestly? i didn’t think very much of it when i first got the email. i was busy making kimchi, which is just about the most korean thing i could be doing.” the chuckle comes easily as sungwoon recalls the rest of the band bothering him to abandon his work and check his goddamn email. they’d been so excited to hear they were going through to the next stage of auditions… their reaction to the news sticks with him more than his own. “i think i was happier for my friends than i was for myself.” especially for kenta, minhyun, and woojin. “some of them are getting to experience all this for the first time and it’s fun to see them go through the whole spectrum of emotions, you know?”

he didn’t get to experience it with the whole band last year, so get the opportunity to now means the world to him. “their enthusiasm is infectious, though, and they ended up getting me excited too.” especially daniel, whose been the whole group’s champion from the start. “i guess aside from that, i was a little relieved as well; i felt like i should be able to do this much.” especially after his showing last year, to not even make it to callbacks would’ve been awkward. not that he’d ever expressed his doubts to his friends—or to himself. “i wasn’t ready for my journey to be cut short, though, so i’m grateful i got a chance to perform today.”

“were you surprised when the judges were revealed?”

“yeah,” he says immediately. even amidst everything else going on, the arrival of the five ceos caught sungwoon off guard. he understands the reason behind their presence here; it makes sense that they’d want to be involved in the selection process for the show itself. and to see how potential contestants react to their sudden appearance—whether they can keep their composure or fall apart in a bundle of nerves—is equally important, in his opinion. the live shows aren’t easy; not everyone can handle the kind of pressure that comes with it. “i might’ve blacked out for a few seconds in shock,” sungwoon laughs. “they are a lot more impressive than i remember. i mean, their collective aura is no joke. did you see so jisub? and katie lee… wow.” the ceos radiate power and prestige. it would bowl a lesser person over.

“i was looking forward to performing for them again,” he continues after a small pause. “but if i’d known they would be here today, i would’ve done something different.” it’s hard to imagine what else he might’ve performed off the top of his head, but sungwoon knows he probably would’ve taken a risk and showcased a skill they wouldn’t expect to see from him. “but hey, that just means i have to live to fight another day.” he scratches his neck. “regrets and i aren’t good friends. i don’t want to go home and think, i should’ve done this or what if i’d done that. hopefully i won’t have to. hopefully the universe will be kind enough to give me one more opportunity to perform for the judges.”

“so how do you think you did with the performance you prepared?”

“there’s always room for improvement.” no matter what he feels about his performance right now, sungwoon knows he’ll discover a million things he could’ve done better once he stops and really thinks things through. it’s not in his nature to be complacent; the nagging voice in the back of his head criticizes more easily than it compliments. “i’m never fully satisfied with anything i do, but i think that’s a good thing. it just means i’ll keep pushing myself and keep try harder next time.” rather than being a burden, he thinks the attitude is a healthy one to carry into a competition like this one.

“that being said…” the corners of sungwoon’s lips curve up, his previous serious expression fading. “this performance was representative of who i am. i worked on the piano rearrangement myself, and i really wanted to showcase a combination of my vocal and instrument skills. and i sang from the heart—which might not count for much, but that might be the most authentic performance i’ve given in my life, so how can i not be happy with it?” he’d left it all out there, bled himself dry, and he hopes at least a fraction of that came across to the ceos and to his audience. “my answer might be different tomorrow, but for now, i think i did alright.”

“what did you think of joohyun’s performance? she sang a song by your band, empty enigma.”

ah. surprise briefly flickers across sungwoon’s face before he can cover it up with a smile. it makes sense for the staff to ask him about her performance out of the other ninety-nine, but he can’t say he’s prepared to answer. “i still can’t believe it,” he chuckles, fingers idly picking at the stray threads sticking out of his pants. “my brain stopped functioning for a while. like, i actually thought i might’ve died and entered nirvana. for someone to perform our song on a stage like this one is… unreal.” his jaw dropped when he recognized the familiar music, the lyrics he’s come to associate with daniel pouring out of joohyun’s mouth.

sheer shock eventually gave way to gratitude and confusion—why empty enigma? they’re not exactly… mainstream. it has to be a big risk doing one of their songs. sungwoon wonders if she did for daniel’s sake. he’s not sure what to feel about that, but now isn’t the time to unpack it either. instead, he presses both hands to his warm, pink cheeks as he thinks about the viewers hearing empty enigma’s music. joohyun’s done more to promote them than any of the band members have. “i’m thankful joohyun liked our music enough to do our song, and i think she did it beautifully.” he turns to the camera and sinks into a small bow. “thank you, joohyun! i hope someday we’ll be able to perform this song together!”

“and what were your thoughts on your band members’ performances?”

his face splits into a wide grin. “i thought you’d never ask.” sungwoon can talk about his friends and their performances for hours, but he tries to keep it brief. “all of them did a great job. i know i sound biased, but i didn’t realize how good most of them are, so actually seeing them up on stage was a shock for me.” he dives into woojin’s performance first since it’d left the strongest impact. “woojin… i didn’t know he could dance like that. i mean, we live together, but he’s a private person—so seeing all that charisma and raw talent come out? i’m proud but also slightly offended he didn’t tell me he could do that.” similarly, he didn’t know the full extent of kenta’s dance skills, though they’d come as less of a surprise than woojin. “kenta was also amazing. doing a jun song isn’t easy, but he pulled it off with elegance and charm. he’s truly a talented performer.”

talking about minhyun is a lot easier when sungwoon doesn’t have to do so in front of him. “i knew minhyun could sing, but his dancing skills were a bit of a mystery to me.” pausing, sungwoon bursts out laughing as a thought hits him. “i guess that’s how you can tell we’re in a band, huh? none of us knew the others could dance.” he takes a brief moment to collect himself before continuing. “anyway, i really applaud him for showcasing both his singing and dancing today, and i love bruno. minhyun really did him justice.” god, he hopes this doesn’t air; sungwoon isn’t sure how he’d explain gushing about minhyun on camera to the man himself. “i believe minhyun has the confidence and talent to be an idol, so he’s definitely one of my top picks out of today.”

finally, he comes to daniel and his eyes light up. “daniel… he’s polarizing. i’ve heard a lot of people say he isn’t talented, but he did an original song today. that has to count for something.” he loved daniel’s performance, but he’d probably love anything daniel does. the faint pink from earlier is still in his cheeks, and he hopes it isn’t obvious just how much he cares. just in case, sungwoon cuts it short. “his singing and stage skills have improved immensely, so i hope people recognize that and support him a lot this year. he deserves it.”

“were there any performances you liked?”

there were a few sungwoon paid attention to aside from empty enigma and joohyun’s. “eunji—she did boa’s woman. i thought her voice and her presence were both commanding. i’m a fan. i enjoyed jeonghan’s song choice and vocal color as well; he’s a potential contestant i would definitely keep an eye out for.” he should probably diversify and mention more than just vocalists, but as one himself, sungwoon tends to focus on the competition more than the rest. “i heard someone sing day6’s shoot me—sihyeon, i think? i thought her song choice was very bold. i liked it.” day6’s music is some of his favorite to listen to, and he almost wishes he’d done of their songs as well. “hyojin’s acoustic cover was really good too. i wasn’t familiar with the song, but i like how he performed it.”

this is harder than sungwoon anticipated; a lot of the performances that came first have blurred together in his mind. “some of the mash ups were very clever. i can respect the skill that goes into making them.” there were a few others, but he can’t remember them off the top of his head. “oh!” sungwoon says suddenly, smacking his palm with his fist. “the guy who did the trot version of lc9? i kinda enjoyed that. though my grandfather loves trot so i might just have a soft spot for it.” the name of the performer slips his mind, but the song itself is stuck in his head.

“were there any performances you didn’t like?”

sungwoon wonders how many people have actually answered this question. nobody wants to be edited as the designated asshole, so he imagines the answers have been safe so far. sungwoon isn’t eager to shoot himself in the foot either, but truthfully, there were a few he didn’t care for. “i think there are some performers who could probably benefit from a few years of experience,” sungwoon says carefully, his expression controlled into one of bland interest. “but shows like this have ways of making you grow up fast, so i don’t know if it’s all that important.”

he wonders if he should just list the performances he didn’t like—the kid on skates, for one, because this is an idol competition. the one who’d done the baby shark remix didn’t seem all that serious either. “i also hope more contestants take the competition seriously moving forward.” sungwoon could rip into a few vocal performances if he really wanted to, but he eventually shakes his head and flashes the interviewer a smile. “i don’t think my opinion matters much, so i’ll leave it there.”

“is there anyone you are certain will move onto the next phase of the mgas?”

“mason,” he says bluntly. “but everyone can probably see that coming.” it’s wild to think a debuted idol is on this show, and such a high profile one. his sheer wealth of experience both terrifies and inflames sungwoon; he doesn’t want to just roll over and lose to someone like that. “he’s a former idol with a fanbase, with the skills and training, and with the prior experience to kill it in this competition. i believe he’ll make it to the finale.” is it unfair? maybe. if sungwoon’s worried about going up against him, he wonders how some of the green newbies feel. “i hear there are a few other debuted idols here too. junhee—he did jonas brothers? i heard he was an idol as well, so he’ll probably have an edge over the rest and make it through easily. you can’t deny that people who’ve experienced this lifestyle, whether as idols or trainees, have a distinct advantage in this competition.”

other than that… “i think moonbok might move onto the next phase; he was on the mgas last year. i hope joohyun goes through since she deserves it the most, probably.” for fairness’ sake, he should mention people he hasn’t spoken about yet. “i’m confident minkyung will, and likely chan as well. i remember being impressed by him.” and last season didn’t have many rappers, so sungwoon is positive at least a few will go through now. “if any of these predictions come true, maybe i can see the future?” he breaks off and laughs at the thought. him, a psychic? “i hope that’s true! it’d be cool.”

“some would say you also have an advantage over others as a member of a band.”

some? sungwoon would like to meet them. “maybe? but performing as part of a band and as an idol are two different things.” he’s not sure how to explain this to someone who hasn’t experienced the energies for themselves, but you can’t compare the two. “the way you play to the crowd—and play off them—differs when you’re in a band. it’s a lot more casual and fun and intimate in some cases.” personally, he thinks it’s freeing; there are less rules and restrictions, no illusion of perfection to maintain.

“as an idol, you need to be more poised and precise with everything you do. i mean, i can’t say for sure, but from what i experienced during the mgas last year, it was… nothing like i was used to. the expectations for idols are sky high.” sungwoon shrugs and claps his hands together. “i don’t think my band history gives me much of an edge over anyone.” his fellow competitors don’t have to agree, but at least sungwoon made an attempt to clear the air.

“is there anyone you are certain will be eliminated today?”

he grins slowly and shakes his head. “that’s not for me to judge, is it?” no way is sungwoon getting caught out on that question. but privately, he thinks skater boy is probably a goner.

“thank you for your time. you may now return to your seat.”

“thanks for all your hard work.” exchanging farewells with the interviewer, he heads back to his seat, eager to discuss with his friends as they wait for the eliminations to take place. maybe the interview could’ve gone a bit better, but sungwoon is glad he didn’t say something dumb. it’ll have to do for now.

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warriorsofwaterdeepcheats-blog · 5 years

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Warriors of Waterdeep Guide

Warriors of Waterdeep Guide is a guide for a prevalent new game. Your gathering comprises of 4 characters. You can pick your best legends to battle AI foes in investigation mode. In any case, in PvP "Fight" mode, 4 characters are haphazardly chosen from your list 3. When battling trolls, skeletons and other grouped foes, focus on their "fight clock" or turn meter. The hexagon-formed turn meter is found simply over a foe. It tops off in each turn and when its full, the foe assaults. Watch out for sparkling hexagons above adversaries - these recommends that foes will play out an activity or assault once your saints' turn closes. Directly from the off, you can tell this fair offers some additional something from the standard. Despite everything you're picking which foe to assault, expertise to utilize, and position to take up on the war zone, however every last bit of it has that magnificent D&D turn, or should we say shake, of the bones. Pretty much every move you make in Warriors of Waterdeep can trigger an optional reward impact. Assault an adversary and you may get a reward second follow-up assault, move and you may insult your foes, buff adversaries and you may very well recuperate them as well. It will be really troublesome until you get more levels and update your riggings a smidgen, yet in time and with devotion you will most likely do everything. After you complete the initial two prisons, you will get enough EXP to step up your legends (and furthermore by redesigning apparatuses) and you will probably open a couple new characters. You ought to be cautious however on the grounds that at the supervisor levels you have to play it cautiously, as the managers are entirely extreme! The game needs a web association with work, even in single player, which can be truly irritating. I've been sat utilizing WiFi and the game has taken an age to enlist a move, notwithstanding when I haven't been playing against genuine individuals. Warriors of Waterdeep does what's necessary with its permit that it has the vibe, at any rate, of D&D. In the event that you're expecting an undeniable rendition of the tabletop game, at that point you will be baffled - this is an allowed to play, basic RPG that is spruced up in the trappings of its motivation. Why? Since Dungeons and Dragons is astounding, and we're a portable gaming site. Which carries us to Warriors of Waterdeep. Dissimilar to the effectively out-there Lords of Waterdeep, this one isn't a tabletop game adjustment - it's a pristine encounter set in one of the most famous dream settings at any point made. In any case, is it in reality any great? All things considered, it has its minutes, however there are dark spots en route that you ought to consider before you get excessively profound into the experience. Any individual who's played a versatile RPG over the most recent few years will comprehend what's happening here. I propose that you generally attempt to keep your saints as solid as could reasonably be expected, on the grounds that that is going to enable you to endure longer. Additionally, another motivation behind why you should attempt to keep your saints alive for whatever length of time that conceivable (ideally all through the battle) is so they can get EXP toward the finish of the prison, alongside the remainder of the legends. However, that probably won't be conceivable consistently, so simply attempt your best! When you complete the prisons, you will be remunerated with different things, all which can be found in chests. You'll open this once you get your fourth saint and thrashing Bonebreaker. It utilizes a similar turn-based strategic fight framework however the field is littler than your ordinary stage arrangement. This is live PvP, which means the other group is really constrained by a player, which is the reason you just have 10 seconds to issue directions. On the off chance that you neglect to move your assigned legend inside that time span, he/she will push one zone ahead, if capable. At that point the clock for your next activity will be sliced down the middle. Raika is essentially a tanky legend, which can work entirely well if outfitted with great riggings. At an opportune time you probably won't see her tanky capacities (they didn't generally work for me at any rate), yet on the off chance that you need a dispensable legend, at that point it may work. I feel that on the off chance that you figure out how to get the best defensive layer for Raika, she should be utilized in the group since she can insult the foes, which is a quite helpful capacity particularly in the event that you can tank two or three hits. Development isn't excessively limited. Essentially, insofar as there is an open space in an adjoining zone, incorporating the one they're in, characters can move to it. Notwithstanding, a zone effectively involved by a character can't be entered by the rival side, regardless of whether there's an open space. Along these lines, it's conceivable to stop the developments of adversaries just as get obstructed by them. This can be utilized to forestall skirmish characters from connecting with ran units or bind a whole gathering at the edge of the board. Here's a rundown of the room types you're going to experience in the game: Now, what's intriguing here is that once you clear a phase you can never again rehash it. Which means, receiving the benefits (especially those desired gear chests, for example, those supervisor and pioneer packs, is a one-time thing. A remarkable bummer, particularly when gear assumes a major job in the game. Movement in Exploration is likewise firmly connected to Challenge mode yet more on that later. Next up is Battle, this is fundamentally the PvP or Arena method of the game. It chips away at various licenses, and it's made games for brands, for example, How to Train Your Dragon, Jurassic World, Battlestar Galactica, and game shows, for example, The Price Is Right and Press Your Luck (which additionally, in my judgment, are the two best game shows on TV). Cells and Dragons (D&D) is never again an outsider in the computer game office. We've just had a couple of cycles of this notable tabletop RPG, regardless of whether as an immediate adjustment of its universe or its principles. For instance, our Fighter tank would Taunt close-by adversaries while our Cleric mended arbitrary partners. It gives you something some extra to consider versus simply utilizing your most dominant ability and seeking after the best. We found that we regularly selected to move our characters instead of just assault, in the expectations that we'd get a positive bones roll. Complete a level and you'll get showered with remunerations. These incorporate new hardware and gold, just as experience for your characters. This framework doesn't rehash the wheel, however it is important that characters acquire new aptitudes and ability extra impacts from their hardware. This implies even apparently exhausting gear may very well have precisely what you were searching for. There's a wide assortment of modes to finish, all of which play indistinguishably. You can fight through single player battles, take an interest in PvP against a genuine rival's group, or vanquish extraordinary occasions. These pivot like clockwork and give the best rewards, while likewise offering the greater test. The game is a turn-based, strategic, prison crawler, pretending game. You will play it like how you play chess. You can utilize a limit of four saints just every prison or fight session. Every saint has various qualities, shortcomings, and abilities. Every player's (during Battle Mode) turn is dictated by arbitrary toward the start of the game. The RPG component incorporates step up your legends and welding and updating their gear. You can enlist new legends and addition gear by clearing cells in Explore Mode, opening chests picked up from Battle Mode, and taking an interest and finishing journeys in Challenge Mode and Events.

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dailyaudiobible · 5 years

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05/14/2019 DAB Transcript

1 Samuel 15:1-16:23, John 8:1-20, Psalms 110:1-7, Proverbs 15:8-10

Today is the 14th day of May. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I’m Brian. It is a pleasure as it is every day to be here with you coming out of whatever it is that's going on in our lives and joining our hearts together around the global campfire and taking the next step forward in the Scriptures, and that will take us back into the book of first Samuel where we’re learning about Israel's first king and his name is Saul. So, we’re reading from the Voice Translation this week. Today first Samuel chapters 15 and 16.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in the Gospel of John today Jesus is in the temple in Jerusalem teaching in the complex when the religious leaders…I mean…put a pretty confrontational and humiliating test before him. So, they had caught a woman in the act of adultery. So, in other words, they found a woman in bed entangled with someone other than her husband and they dragged her off and then they thrust her before Jesus, possibly naked, to entrap Him. So, it’s this whole bizarre, strange scene happening in the temple as the religious leaders are kind of like circling the wagons, throwing out the nets. Like, they’re after Jesus at this point, seriously. So, they interrupt Jesus and whatever he was teaching, and interrupt all the people that he was teaching and throw this woman in front of him and they’re like, “teacher, you know, this woman was in bed with somebody, not her husband and our law, the Mosaic law, says we should stone her. And what do you think?” And, so, Jesus stoops down and He's writing in the dust and everybody's waiting. And it’s really interesting because Jesus isn't afraid of like allowing the tension to just sit there, right? So, normally in a confrontational situation what do we do? We usually like strike back in our own defense, right? Maybe even striking back harder. Like, bristling up and showing like, “you want to fight me? This is gonna be a fight.” Jesus just stoops down and starts writing in the dirt. He's not uncomfortable. Like, He doesn't feel the need to spout off a bunch of words that are gonna defend Him. He just stoops down and starts writing in the dirt and everybody that He was teaching, all of these elite religious scribes, like all these people who are important, they just have to stand there and wait for...they asked Him a question. And so Jesus is stooping down, just humbling them, making them wait. So, you can just see them back-and-forth, one foot after the other, one foot on the other, they’re just like standing there and like, “what are we supposed to do?” And, so, Jesus stands up and He’s like, “alright, if that’s what the law says, alright, but let the one who never sinned throw the first stone”, right? “Like, the one that actually is worthy of throwing the first…like the one without sin who doesn't deserve to be stoned as well for something or another, then go ahead.” So He stooped down and started writing in the dust again. And as the Scriptures tell the story, slowly the accusers dispersed and eventually Jesus stood to face the woman and he joined her in her humiliation. “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?” And she's like, “No Lord no. No one condemned me.” Jesus said, “I don't condemn you either. Go and sin no more.” This is a beautiful, beautiful story and it's given hope for sinners for thousands of years, hope for me many times. Where all the woman in this story, right, at one point or another, which is what all the scribes and the Pharisees realized was going on, right? They’re slinking away because they are realizing they’re just as guilty, they deserve to be stoned too, we’re all this woman in this story in one way or another. We all have done things that would deserve judgment. And, ironically, this is a very beloved story in the Bible. We like this story so well because we can embrace it for ourselves claiming the grace given to the woman, but we’re often at the same time, while we’re receiving this grace, we’re also playing the role of the religious accusers towards other people, right? All too often we’re willing to drag our brothers and sisters who have fallen in one way or another toward their judgment, right? Like, somehow in our phase, we have gotten to this place where we believe we are the sin sheriffs of the world. And, so, like we spend so much of our time trying to call people out, right, either for their sin or for their doctrine or for whatever. And, so, whether on social media or some other form we’ll drag these people out and try to bring them toward their judgment as we are excusing our own shortcomings and accepting the message of “neither do I condemn you” from Jesus for ourselves. As we’ll learn later on in the book of James and in the writings of Peter, this should not be happening. Jesus did not do that. He entered this woman's humiliation and set her free. So, who do we think we are? To be Christlike requires that we stop being merciful to ourselves while we are at the same time judging others. Jesus didn't condemn the woman in this story. He acknowledged her. He called her forward into a better life. So, may we remember that the words, “go and sin no more” apply not only to us in our shortcomings, they apply to everyone. And may we remember that the only one who could've cast the first stone in this story was Jesus. He was the only one without sin, and he did not. So, we must be the same if our goal is to become like Jesus anyway.

Prayer:

Jesus, we invite You into this. It’s sad, honestly, to be able to look around and see what we, the body, Your body in this world, what we are capable of doing to each other and the ways that we’re willing to segregate away from each other and the ways that we’re willing to break ourselves down into denominations and just what we’ve done because we’ve forgotten some of the core things. Like, the core thing found in this story is that none of us deserve any of this and yet You have given freedom to all of us individually and freely. And You know, we take that freedom and apply it to ourselves and then use that freedom to enslave so many other people by trying to be their sovereign, by trying call them out, by trying to fight the battles as if You need to be defended. We are arrogant people indeed. We have been forgiven so much. We have been blessed so much that we have enough to take it all for granted and we apologize for that. Would You send Your Holy Spirit upon us throughout the earth today and allow us to look at our brothers and sisters, whether they are as close to us as living in the same house or is distant to us as someone passing on the street. May we look with compassion, understanding that You do not condemn them. You are inviting them into freedom. And so often we, Your people, are standing in the way and this is what we find playing out in Your story when You lived here upon this earth as the scribes and Pharisees, as the religious keepers of the law confronted You, we find ourselves becoming the same way when we look at it honestly. And it’s wrong and it’s not going anywhere and it’s not helpful. So, come, Holy Spirit, cleanse us, forgive us, give us the eyes of the kingdom and the ears of the kingdom. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com, is the website, its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here, so tay connected in any way that you want to, any way that you can.

The Prayer Wall is dailyaudiobible.com. That’s a great place to stay connected and pray for your brothers and sisters throughout the earth.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com, there’s a link on the homepage. If you're using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer the mail, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Springhill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that is it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I’ll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello this is Jerry calling from Duluth Minnesota, the former paper carrier calling from a very familiar bus stop I called many times many years ago. Longtime listener. I remember way back when, when Natasha from New York called in often. And, so, many of you have been such a blessing - Blind Tony, Slave of Jesus, the one from beautiful Cincinnati Ohio and on and on and on. But it’s been five years since I gave up the paper route and honestly five years since I really, really spent time with the DAB family, but God is bringing me home. He’s done some amazing things in the last couple of weeks and I don’t know where it’s going but I’m looking forward to what He has in store for me. So, I came back to this familiar bus stop where so many years ago I dedicated…rededicated my heart to God because of the ministry of the Daily Audio Bible and all the friends and community that so many prayers for me so many years ago. I appreciate your prayers and I love you all. May God help me to have a new beginning with the Daily Audio Bible family. God, bless. Bye.

This is Candace from Oregon, please pray with me. Dear Lord Jesus, heavenly Father, Holy Spirit, our God faithful and true, Lord we’re desperate for You. We can do utterly nothing without You. Thank You for coming to get us, coming to rescue us out of our incredible hopeless completely lostness, out of our trouble. Thank You that You’ve come Lord Jesus. Lord there’s a total serenity in You because it is finished, You have taken care of it and we can have life that’s truly life. Lord, Tamika, our dear sister is in way over her head. Lord, she…she can do utterly nothing without You and we know that You are here and that Your plan for her is for her to thrive and together as a family of believers we come together and we agree that Tamika will thrive in the Lord Jesus Christ alone, that she will completely be able to stop and take a deep breath and see all that is still good, all that she still has in this moment, all that You are blessing her with right now. Calm her Lord. Give her a serenity she couldn’t have imagined. And we ask it in Jesus name and for Jesus sake. Amen.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible listeners. I want to wish everyone a happy Mother’s Day. I was just listening to the young lady who has…found out that she’s…she is a mother and I want to lift her up Lord that you will give her strength and courage, your strength, and you will show her every step that she needs to take Lord. I’m so grateful that she is choosing life in a world were so many don’t, and I want to lift her up in the father Lord to know that they are in a holy union creating life, you are creating life through them. I’m so grateful she called to ask for prayer. Please everyone, pray for her that she is strong on this journey and that God’s will be done in this journey. And thank you for all the moms that are here, that are not here, and that will soon be here, that you’re raising up, this community of moms that will love as you love. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Thanks everyone. Have a beautiful day.

Hello, my beautiful DAV family this is Mark Street from Sydney Australia today is Monday, 13th of May and look, I’m calling in for prayer request for my son, my little son William he’s 16. Unfortunately, he’s going through a pretty bad time at the moment, he’s suffering from depression at the moment and unfortunately, he’s refusing to go to school and in this country it’s law that you must attend school till you’re 17. So, he’s taken the last two weeks off and we’re getting to a point where there’s going to be legal action and unfortunately, he’s moved back in to live with his mom. So, that said, he won’t take any phone calls from me, he won’t listen to me. I’m finding it very hard that I can’t actually help him. I’m trying to talk to him, but he doesn’t…won’t accept my talk or anything. So, I’m asking you to pray to God that the will of Gog change his mind, or he can open up William’s heart to listen to me, for me to try and get him some psychological help. But at the moment he’s refusing anything, so. I don’t want to live in fear. I know God will have him, but family I know how wonderful your prayers are and how wonderfully God moves in this community, so I would appreciate it. His name is William, William Street. And if you would pray that he would open up to his mom or open up to me and we can get things resolved. Love you family. Mark Street from Sydney Australia. Bye.

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