#Law's Sunny Roommate AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jerzwriter · 3 years

Note

Hi would you do this as a promt for ethan and casey? They ask you to pretend to be their date at a bar to prevent an ex from talking to them.

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Casey MacTavish)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Casey enjoys her first day in Boston, eager to start a new life; when an unwelcomed guest from her past forces her to ask a handsome stranger for a favor.

Category: Fluff – AU – One Shot

Warnings: Drinking, language

A/N: Reader request for: They ask you to pretend to be their date at a bar to prevent an ex from talking to them. I set this as the day before Casey begins her internship at Edenbrook. This is an AU and not related to my HC.

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

If you wish to be added or removed from tags, please let me know. Comments and reblogs always appreciated. 😊

The day was perfect! Casey never understood how so many found the idea of a day alone so upsetting. She enjoyed the company of her friends and even meeting new people as much as anyone. Still, a day where the only conversation she had to carry was with the dog she pet in the park, where she was free to let her mind wander wherever it wanted to go, and where her choices were the only ones that mattered... it sounded like a little slice of heaven and, today was just that.

She was new to town, having just settled into her new place three days before. Now that all the walls were painted, all the boxes unpacked, and her well-meaning but overbearing parents were finally headed back home, it was time for her to get out there and meet the city she would be calling home for the next three years.

She walked from her "cozy" new apartment in Charlestown to the T station and hopped on the orange line. The real estate agent said the station was a "short walk" away. Twenty minutes wasn't exactly short, but then again, a living room so small that couldn’t fit more than a single chair in it wasn't precisely cozy either. But she didn’t care. It was all hers: the place, the town, the internship... she was elated that the new start she had envisioned was finally becoming a reality.

It was a sunny, cloudless day, and she shuffled all over town: breakfast at a sidewalk cafe on Newbury St., taking in art galleries on SoWa, lunch at an old school pizza place in North End, and a lazy afternoon reading in Boston Common. She felt like she was walking on a cloud. It was impossible for others to not be pulled in by her positive energy, not to mention her sparkling blue eyes and radiant smile.

The barista tried to get her attention, but she slunk away. Her fellow art lover at the gallery promised himself he'd get this beauty's phone number before she left, but it was not his day. She almost considered giving it to the handsome young man wearing the Boston U School of Law shirt, only because he jogged right into a pole in the Common while staring at her, but even then, she refrained.

The last year of her life had been consumed by two things, completing med school and Kevin Barone. Kevin was the man she had loved (or thought she did) for the past three years, the one she grew into being an adult with. At one time, they discussed trying to find residencies close to each other. Everyone assumed they were forever, even Casey. Although in retrospect, she realized he was never what she wanted, even before she found him in the arms of her former roommate. The one he told her she didn't need to be insecure about time and time again.

Kevin Barone was a lot of things, but stupid enough to not realize what a huge mistake he made wasn’t one of them. There may have been plenty of women in the sea, but there was only one Casey MacTavish. Only when she was relegated to being a part of his past did he realize just how much he was willing to do to get her back into his future. He tried to win her back. He was relentless.

But to Casey, it had become tiresome. She was fed up with seeing him at every turn. She was over having friends constantly interfering, taking sides, and, sometimes, ceasing to be friends at all. When he asked her what residency she would be accepting, she lied and said NY-Presbyterian. The very next day, "Mr. Committed to Cedars-Sanai" took a slot at NYU Langone. Casey smirked as she finalized her acceptance to Edenbrook, the one she had always intended to all along. If he had listened to her over the course of 36-months, he would have known.

And now, with a glorious day behind her, she walked over to Edenbrook. He couldn’t contain her smile as she strolled around its perimeter. It was quiet today, not much activity, and she was sure this would not be the norm, but she was ready for whatever challenges awaited her. In fact, she wasn't ready, she was eager. This was the perfect end to the perfect day!

She wasn’t sure what the noise was at first, then she realized it was coming from her stomach. She was anxious to head home, but this served as a stark reminder that she hadn't gotten her first grocery order in yet. Not wanting to add another errand to the day, she decided to stop into the bar she was passing for a quick bite before getting back on the train. She felt immediately at home inside. The dim lighting, wood walls, and worn but comfortable booths surrounding the room reminded her of the bars she had frequented back in college. Somehow, she knew she’d be spending a lot of time here.

She ordered a cheeseburger and a draft beer. Tomorrow, she’d return to her regular healthy eating routine, but today, today was all about nourishing her soul in her new hometown. As she settled on the stool at the end of the bar, she sipped the cool drink and smiled. After a long day in the sun, all was well in the world. Then it got better. The eye candy across the room sure didn’t hurt. Tall and absurdly handsome, his crystal blue eyes sparkled, even in the dark lighting, and she felt like his waves of dark hair were just begging for her to run her fingers through them. He looked a bit older than her, and she noted he looked lonely, though she quickly erased that notion. After all, she enjoyed her time alone; perhaps he did too.

Her cheeks turned red when he looked up from his freshly ordered drink and caught her staring. She quickly diverted her eyes, but not before seeing the slight smile that spread on his lips.

Take it easy, MacTavish, she told herself. Sure, he looked like a Greek god delivered to Boston on loan, but you have had enough of romantic entanglements to last her a lifetime.

Her new internship began tomorrow, and that would be her lover for the next three years. So, sapphire eyes be damned, she was turning away.

She ordered a second beer and savored her delicious burger. She giggled as she scrolled through the comments her friends left on her Pictagram feed. The photos she took today were a big hit! . All the while, the dark-haired stranger found himself unable to stop looking at her. She managed to keep her own eyes on her phone for the most part, but she couldn’t help but peer up from time to time. At first, she just turned her eyes away. On the second glance, she stared back for a few moments, and third time, she returned his soft smile.

SImmer down, Casey, let your brain take the lead here. Your other body parts have failed you time and time again.

She knew her resolve was weakening, so she asked the bartender for her check. A half-hour earlier, she envisioned her day ending with a nice, hot shower and slipping under her fresh new sheets with a good book. Now she found herself editing that scene to include a spectacularly handsome special guest star. She forced her eyes off of him. God, he was perfect, but drama was not what she needed.

She took out her purse to grab her debit card when she heard him.

“New York City isn’t ready for the three of us!” He howled as glasses clinked together, “Here is to NYU Langone and the intern class that will define their future.”

“That’s right, Kev, but I still don’t get. If we’re going to be showing the Big Apple who is in charge now, why are we spending our last free day in Boston?”

KEVIN!

“Hey, we’re just starting off where the nation started, right?” He laughed unconvincingly, “Besides, we can nap on the train ride back.”

“Nap? What are we, three?”

He sure fucking acts like he is.

Casey was not familiar with the bar. She looked around, trying to find a place that would allow her to make a discreet exit without encountering him. It became apparent that this exit didn’t exist.

Of all the bars in Boston, he had to be at a nameless little hole in the wall. How did he….

Of course. It was right next to Edenbrook, where she was starting tomorrow. His proximity was no accident, and Casey knew it. Her face reddened. She was not letting this son of a bitch, who had taken so much from her already, take anything from her new life here. He was not going to sully any of it, especially this so far fantastic day.

She looked up and saw… God, he’s hot… that gorgeous specimen at the end of the bar again. Her Kevin sighting made her temporarily forget about him. Adonis seemed to notice the changes in her. Suddenly there was a little line between her brows and the tension on her face, a far departure from how she had looked just ten minutes before. When they locked eyes, he scrunched his nose, silently questioning what was wrong. She casually looked to her right and saw that the ladies' room entrance. She had an idea.

She stood up and walked over toward him, quickly but casually, like she had done it a thousand times before. He took in every second of it. Her blonde hair cascading over her tanned shoulders, bouncing with every step she took, and speaking of bouncing… his cheeks turned red, and he quickly returned his eyes to her beautiful face. Jesus, she was a vision and, and… was she walking right toward….

“Hi,” she said animatedly as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Please just go along with this, please?” she whispered in his ear.

“Did you miss me?” she winked.

“It’s as if you have been gone my entire life,” he smirked.

She giggled before moving in closer to whisper. “I hope you don’t mind, I’m using you. That jerk back there, it’s my ex-boyfriend, and I don’t want him to see me, or at least not to bother me, so until I can get out of here. Now, if he thinks I’m on a date, he won’t have the nerve.”

The stranger looked over her shoulder.

“Which one?" He asked.

“That want-to-be frat boy holding court over two even more pathetic clowns.”

“That’s your ex?”

“Hey, if I’m using you as my knight in shining armor, could we hold off on the judgment? I’m sure if you paraded every single one of your exes in front of me right now, there would be plenty for me to give you the side-eye over too.”

He smiled. He liked her. A lot.

“Fair point.” He looked over at the seat where she had been sitting, where her now empty glass remained.

“Draft beer?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you, I’d love another.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Reggie,” he called.

“Yes, my friend, what will it be?”

He held up his glass, “I’ll have another and make it two this time.”

“Coming right up.”

“We’re about to improve your tastes, young lady,” he smirked.

“In alcohol? Or in men?”

“Does it need to be one or the other?” He grinned. “Why not both?”

She looked up into his eyes. Goddamn, did this day just take a turn?

“Why not, indeed,” she said as he placed the new drink into her hand.

“Cheers.”

She smiled at him from under her eyelashes as she sipped.

“You like it?” He asked.

“It’s quite good.”

“Would you prefer it on the rocks?”

“What? And dilute the taste? Surely you jest!”

He placed his hand over his heart, “Where have you been all my life?”

“Clearly too far away,” she grinned.

“I’m Ethan.”

“I'm Casey.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Casey. Now, who is the Bozo over there.”

“That’s Kevin.”

“And Kevin’s story is….”

“He’s my ex. It’s been about a year now since I found out he was banging my roommate.”

“Ouch,” he winced, “So the guy isn’t only a Neanderthal, he is a stupid and classless Neanderthal too.”

“History wasn’t my best subject, but was there class stratification among Neanderthals? I don’t seem to recall?”

He laughed. “Is it wrong that I’m suddenly glad your ex was such a jackass? I’m sorry... I certainly didn't mean because I’m glad he hurt you. It’s just that, if that somehow led to this rather unique introduction, I can’t help but be grateful for it.”

She smiled as she swirled the caramel-colored liquor nervously in her hand.

“It’s OK. I’m suddenly kind of glad about it too. You see, I’ve had a wonderful day, and I pictured the perfect ending with me going back to my new place and snuggling up with a good book and….”

“... and now?” he raised a brow.

Casey giggled. “And now it means I am meeting an incredibly handsome gentleman with refined taste in scotch. That’s an improvement.”

“I told you, I was about to improve your taste. I have no problem improving your plans as well.”

“How gallant of you!”

He smiled, “Are you new to the area? I don’t recall seeing you around here before.”

“Well, Boston is a big city, Ethan, but as it happens, I am new to it. I moved here just three days ago.”

“Really? And what brings you here?”

“Work.”

“So you’ll be around for a bit. That’s good to know. You know, if you ever want someone to show you around, I’d be happy to.”

“You know, I’d like that. Because as of now, I don’t have a single friend in Boston.”

“Correction. You didn’t. Now you do. Oh, don’t turn around, but Bozo is on the move. He’s coming this way for the door. How do you want to handle this?”

“Oh, I… I don’t know, I… I guess….”

“Put your head on my shoulder, quick!”

She quickly complied, and she wasn’t sure if it was the two beers and the scotch, but she was taken aback by how natural, how comfortable it felt to be nuzzled against him, with his arms wrapped around her. She could easily get used to this.

“I was going to say that I could pretend to whisper into your ear, but that was kind of foolish, as I don’t have to pretend at all. I can just whisper in your ear. For the record, the miscreant is moving past us right now and, you were totally one-hundred percent out of his league. I have half a mind to go out there and knock his lights out just for being so stupid.”

Casey giggled. “While I appreciate the valiant gesture, I’d be just as happy if he left and never saw me.”

“Is he new to Boston too?”

“No, he’s new to New York. This is apparently a day trip for him.”

“Hmmm. Good, I’m glad you won’t be running into him then.”

They stayed in place for several moments.

"Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“Is he gone?”

“Oh. Oh, yes… yes, he is…” he said, his face flushed.

“You just didn’t want to let go, did you?”

“You can’t blame a man. But, since he’s gone now, if you’d like to go….”

“Do you want me to?”

“No, No! Not at all. I just didn’t want to impose.”

Casey looked down at their empty glasses and turned to the bar.

“Excuse me, Reggie, was it?”

“The one and only! And you are.”

“I”m Casey, Reggie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Could we possibly have two more of these?”

“You sure can, my dear. I’ll be right back.”

“So you were saying?” Casey grinned.

____________________

An hour later, her back was pressed against the brick face of the building, his arms gently laced behind her. Her hands were eagerly making their way through the beautiful sea of waves atop his head. And they were both lost in each other’s kisses, with no intention of letting this end, until Casey began to giggle.

“I really hope that’s not your reaction to how I kiss because if it is, it will really take a long time before my ego recovers.”

“No! Not at all your kisses are, oh, God, your kisses are dangerous, Ethan. I’m just laughing because we’re like two high schoolers making out on the street before we have to go home.”

“Hmmm,” He moaned, placing his forehead atop hers. “Going home… that sounds… that sounds amazing. But,” he stood up and stared at her tenderly, caressing her cheek with his thumb, “I may be a rare breed, but I am a gentleman, and we just met, and....”

“... and I start my new job in the morning. If I want my new life here less messy, I should probably head home and get ready. But I have a feeling we will see each other again.”

“Oh, you can rest assured that we will.”

“I also have a feeling that it won’t be too long before the next episode. Let’s just call this… to be continued.”

“You can rest assured of that as well,” he smiled.

“Then I guess we should exchange numbers?”

“Give me your phone.”

She entered hers as Casey; he simply wrote Ethan.

“Will you allow me to get you a cab home, please? I’ve kept you late. It would make me feel better.”

“Sure,” she smiled, looking up into his eyes.

He leaned forward once more, placing his lips atop hers for one more long, languid kiss.

“I am looking forward to the next episode already.”

“Me too. Then I'm buying the streaming service to make sure there will be plenty of reruns.”

The cab arrived, and he helped her inside, leaning inside the window to give her one final kiss.

“Good luck tomorrow. Call me?”

“I will.”

“Oh, and I never asked. Where will you be working.”

“Right down there,” she said, pointing toward the hospital, “I’m a new intern at Edenbrook. I’ll call you soon, Ethan.”

_______________________

A/N: .... and the poor dears had no idea how long they'd have to wait for that next episode! Thanks for the prompt Nonnie, this was fun!

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rhinklibrary · 4 years

Text

College Rhink Top Fics

Hi Readers! We’re so excited for our first official list! This week is one of the most popular genres in our fandom - College Rhink.

Please note these are all based on the dates of completion and/or the last update. While most are completed or are WIPs, you might come across an uncompleted fic. This list also does not include writings exclusively on Tumblr, or other sites, so please send us those recs!

Below the cut, you will find the top five kudos’d fics from the years 2015-2020. At the end you will also find our librarians’ recommendations.

Happy reading!

2015

#1 I’m Not Scared, Man, You’re Scared - thenthekneehits - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3122

College, Cohabitation, Fluff without Plot, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Awkward Boners, Sharing a Bed

In which two stupid boys turn weak, there is a spider, and no cuddling.

#2 Pierced - Isra/ @mythical-rhink -Rhink - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 5301

College, First time, Piercing, play piercing, Blood, D/s, Kink, BSM, Alcohol, Profanity

Rhett’s in college and wants to try something new, and of course he’s going to bring Link along for the ride.

#3 Rewritten - Chellan_Nicollares - [Explicit] - Chapters: 8 - Words: 16,040

Alternate Universe - College/University, Pining, Angst, Jealousy, Metafiction

If you have the power to rewrite reality, how far would you go for love? Rhett has already answered the question, but his actions might lead to his undoing within the very same day.

#4 Encounter - Chellan_Nicollares - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 10 - Words: 9280

Alternate Universe - Past lives, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Strangers, Transmigration, Supernatural Elements

This is a prologue to their life-long love and companionship. A mysterious encounter on a hiking trip gave Rhett some new perspectives. What's meant to be is meant to be.

#5 Grown Up Giggles - thenthekneehits - [General Audiences] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 269

College, Slice of Life, Growing Up, Self Confidence Issues, Cohabitation

Prompt: “I like your laugh.”

2016

#1 Whale, whale, whale - rhincoln/ @bloodbros (orphaned) - [Explicit] - Chapters: 4 - Words: 25,602

Friends With Benefits, Epic Friendship, Hand Jobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, First Time, Semi-Public Sex

During the day, it’s all sunny beaches and warm touches and the ocean. At night, strange noises can be heard from Rhett’s bunk. And why did Rhett bring a stuffed Shamu to the beach resort anyway?

#2 What Do You Want Me To Say? - @remembertherandler - [Mature] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1311

First Kiss, Kissing, I’m dead move, rhink, young rhink, college!rhink, Light Angst, Cute, Touching

So you’re horsing around with your roommate in your dorm room...big deal? Someone saw you? Oh…

#3 Slight Altercations - notasponsor - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4790

College AU, Sorta Enemies to Lovers, Look they just bicker a lot, and they don’t know each other rly before the fic, Studying then cuddling, Fluff

Link glares, “You’re insufferable.” “No, I’m Rhett.” “Asshole.”

#4 Enough - chaoticliv - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2296

Angst, Teenagers, Pining, Pining Rhett, College, Childhood, First Kiss, Kissing, Rhett POV

They were best friends. That was always enough for Rhett.

#5 The Laws of Thermodynamics - MythicallySnappy/ @RatchetRhink - [Mature] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2819

Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Fluff, First Kiss, College, Artistic interpretation of math and what an industrial engineering degree actually entails

Link finally lets loose in the midst of exam season, and Rhett’s smiling and no matter how hard Link tries, he can’t calculate the meaning behind it.

2017

#1 A Perfect Arrangement - rhincoln/ @bloodbros (orphaned) - [Explicit] - Chapters: 15 - Words: 93,859

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Best Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Public Display of Affection, Pining, rhink, Masturbation, Jealousy, Drunken Shenanigans, Angst, Mutual Pining, Mutual Masturbation, Porn, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Sickfic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Grinding, Sex Tapes

In order to win the body and soul of Miss Perfect, a girl they think they’re obsessed with, Rhett and Link figure they first have to win the keys to the coolest place on campus - something that is offered to them out of the blue, with only a single catch: only couples could get to move into the lush apartment. Rhett and Link would do anything for the space, for the girls - even pretend that they’re romantically involved. As true best friends, together they start off on the ambitious quest for love. What happens is its own story.

#2 No Touching! - rhincoln/ @bloodbros (orphaned) - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 5701

Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Jealousy, No Homo, College, Semi-Public Sex, Rhink

Gregg decides to to take the duo out to a gay clup for a lark. It’s all fun and games, until Rhett thinks it isn’t. (In other words, until Link gets hit on.)

#3 Writing Love On Your Skin - @magicbubblepipe - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3723

Pining Rhett McLaughlin, Injured Link, College, Rhink, Fluff, caretaker Rhett

When Rhett and Link share a bed, there’s a certain game they play.

#4 Lincoln In Distress - meirenyu/ @mei-ren-yu - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3577

College!rhink, Butt Plugs, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Internalized Homophobia, Fluff, First Time

Rhett’s awoken from a great dream to find Link in dire straits in the top bunk of their dorm.

#5 Over the Phone - tvmoviemaniac/. @galacticnocturne - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 14 - Words: 28,044

Rhink, Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Alternate Universe, Teen Romance, Depression, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Anxiety, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Mention of abuse, Homophobia, First Time, Sexual Encounter

Link Neal, a sophomore in college, finds a remedy to his existential problems and depression in an unlikely relationship he forms over the phone with a stranger - Rhett McLaughlin

2018

#1 Lovers in the Backseat - Matrimus - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4883

Alternate Universe - College/University, Public Hand Jobs, Link is a little shit, Exhibitionism

Rhett offering his lap as a seat had sounded like a good idea at the time. It doesn’t take long for Link to exploit it.

#2 Forget Me Not - Matrimus - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3404

First Kiss, Temporary Amnesia, Internalized Homophobia, College

After breaking his pelvis in a snowboarding accident, Link suffers from temporary amnesia. He knows he’s in hospital, knows he’s hurt his hip - and knows Rhett is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

#3 The Naked Truth - @missingparentheses - [Explicit] - Chapters: 8 - Words: 22,786

College, Fraternities & Sororities, Light Angst, Dorm Room Sexytimes

After a night of drinking at a frat party, Rhett and Link wake up naked in bed together with no memory of what happened the night before. They set out to piece together the details of the night and see if they can find out what happened, how they feel about it, and if they want it to happen again.

#4 Hungry Ghosts - MythicallySnappy/RatchetRhink - [Explicit] - Chapters: 7 (Incomplete) - Words: 20,241

College, Underage Drinking, Alcohol, Boys Being Idiots, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Angst, Smut, the holy trinity of fanfic

It’s the summer after freshman year and Rhett and Link are back at home in Buies Creek. An uncomfortable experience at a party flips Rhett’s world upside down and Link is there to help him build a new one

#5 Sofa Symphony - @santamonicayachtclub - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2321

College, Couch Sex

“C’mon, bo,” Link urges, husky-voiced. “Do me like you’re paying for it.”

2019

#1 Live Connection - @linkslipssinkships - [Explicit] - Chapters: 115 (Incomplete) - Words: 87,022

Porn Watching, Camboy!Link, Risky Behavior, Alternate Universe - College/University, Modern AU, Short Chapters, Stream of Consciousness, First Person, Loss of Virginity, Mutual Pining, Angst, Long Distance Relationship, Sex Work, Consenusl sex work, Sex work related slurs, Anal Sex, handjobs, Jealousy, Mentions of Infidelity, First Relationship

Rhett’s just a college kid looking for some good porn. Link is a camboy looking for loyal fans and good money. When Link goes live, the pair feels an interesting connection.

#2 Untethered - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 32 - Words: 109,097

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Demons, demon!Rhett and human!Link, Vomiting, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Master/Servant, Praise, Biting, Oh No He’s Hot, Marijuana, Drinking, Mutual Masturbation, Supernatural Illnesses, Churches & Cathedral, Abuse of Authority, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Vigilantism, Blow Jobs, Police, Guns, Anal Sex, Hearteyes Rhett, Obsessive Behavior, Matter of Life and Death, Blood and Gore, Near Death, Happy Ending

Link would’ve never guessed that the price of fucking up his entire life is approximately 5¢.

#3 Lucidity - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 31 - Words: 103, 027

Porn With Plot, College, Sensory Deprivation, Ice Play, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Stuffed Toys, Scent Kink, Phone Sex, Blow Jobs, Reading Aloud, Intercrural Sex, Sex Toys, Double Penetration, Glory Hole, Protectiveness, Clothed Sex, Anal Sex, Babbling, Feeding Kink, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Under-Table Blow Jobs, Fight Sex, Orgams Delay/Denial, Lingerie, Multiple Orgasms, Humiliation, Free Use, Rimming, Animal Traits, Marijuana, Public Sex, Pool Sex, Bladder Control, Milking Machine, Smoking, Angst, Exhibitionism, Clone Sex, Love Confessions

Rhett doesn’t know why this is happening. Thank Goodness Link doesn’t know it’s happening at all.

#4 Everyone but Me - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 11 - Words: 46,790

Alternate Universe - College/Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jock!Rhett, Internalized Homophobia, House Party, Drinking, Cigarettes, Sthenolagnia, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Bars and Pubs, Social Media, Pining, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Denial of Feelings, Piercings, Bets & Wagers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Heart-to-Heart, Nude Photos, Masturbation, Basketball, Post-Game(s), Marijuana, Vomiting, Concerts, Slow Dancing, Slurs, Protectiveness, First Time, Anal Sex, Self-Doubt, Pride Celebration

Rhett can fit in anywhere, make small talk with anyone. He’s one of NC State's best players, after all. If he can’t dazzle strangers with his records and status--if he’s not the perfect example of the masculine standard--then who is he?

#5 The Elephant in the Dorm - @goodmythicalghoulboy - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4940

College, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Mutual Masturbation, Porn Watching, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Spanking, (just the teeniest bit of it though), Boundaries? What are boundaries?, Daddy Kink

Rhett thinks he’s finally got an hour to himself to really take his time and indulge in a little self love. He’s sorely mistaken, but it all works out for the best.

2020 so far

#1 Big Man on Campus - @fanbabble & @mythicaliz - [Explicit] - Chapters: 16 - Words: 41, 973

1990s, Dorms, Roommates, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Strangers, Basketball, Arguing, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Angst but it’s gonna get better, Alcohol, Underage Drinking, Body Shots, Masturbation, Frottage, bed sharing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forbidden Love, I’m dead move, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Voyeurism, Public Blow Jobs, Gay Bar, Jealousy, Coming Out, Anal Sex, First Time, Shower Sex, Semi-Public Sex

1996. NC State University. Syme Dorm, Room 24. Two roommates with very different dreams. One wants to play basketball and make his family proud. The other wants to make movies and explore his new found freedom. But there’s a problem… there is only one bed!

#2 The Roles We Play - sassandpanache/ @sass-and-panache - [Mature] - Chapters: 16 - Words: 31,238

Alternate Universe - College/Universe, Theatre, Basketball!Rhett, TheaterKid!Link, Enemies to Friends, to Lovers

Rhett’s failing his theater class so in order to save his grade, he joins the crew of NC State’s fall production of ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’. What he doesn’t realize is that the next month will change his life.

#3 Tell Me About It - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1, Words: 7261

Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sex Toys, Masturbation, Phone Sex, mentions of internalized shame

One of the biggest drawbacks of being incomplete without your best friend is the (very intense) fear of missing out.

#4 Taking Turns - @apparentlynotreallyfinnish - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1, Words, 2465

Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Pining

It didn’t take them long after starting college to get to this. One night of too many drinks and too few enthusiastic sexual partners available had lead to an awkward, fumbling experimentation in Rhett’s bunk. Rhett’s not sure anymore which one of them brought it up first, but somehow, in their inebriated and horny state, they’d realized that they could easily help each other out.

#5 Learning to Crawl - DarlingLo/ @darling-lo [Explicit] - Chapters: 5/6 (WIP) - Words: 33,081

College, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, First Meetings, Angst, Enemies to Friends, Sexual Tension, Internalized Homophobia

It took Link four hours to learn his roommate’s name. And those four hours are all that was needed for him to absolutely hate him.

#rhink library #rhink fic #rhink fic recs #mod post #top fics: college #college rhink #college!rhink

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sirsapling · 4 years

Text

MORE TAGGED POSTS

I got tagged in a bunch more things I didn't respond to fast enough, so UNDER THE CUT THEY GO.

I have too many things to respond to, so I won't be tagging, but consider yourself tagged if you want to do any.

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS

Tagged by the wonderful @bardingbeedle

Pass the happy!🌻🌿 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!

Lying in warm blankets in an cold room. Bonus points for snow outside.

A fresh Buzz cut

Talking to @bardingbeedle

Having long, passionate rambles about the Marvel Ultimates

Hashbrowns, bacon, maple syrup, maybe a pancake, and a sausage too.

Tagged by the chaotic @s-hylor

top 3 cities you want to visit: Toronto, again. Colorado (I know its a state not a city I just want to visit ashes AND GET SNOW). And I would like to go back to Italy again. (I also want to visit, just, all of my fandom friends but I don't want to drop all their locations lol)

favorite marvel character: Ults!Steve Rogers and then Ults!Tony Stark. Not counting stony, Anthony the brain tumor, and not counting clones, Gregory Stark.

white chocolate - yay or nay?: Love it, love it, love it.

favourite board game: God Save The Queens- A board game about Bees I invented with 3 other people at University last year for a project.

how many countries have you been to: 10, I have been very luckily graced with the ability to travel to Europe with school a lot.

(Wales, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, America [Florida, Boston, New York], Spain, Portugal, Italy, and finally Canada.)

favorite thing to do on a rainy day: Anything indoors I might usually feel guilty about doing when its sunny. Tv or games particularly

favorite holiday: Christmas. I am a Christmas slut, call me festive sapling I LOVE Christmas.

pen or pencil: Pen. I once bought 7 in lisbon at the same time bc they were perfect and I didn't want to run out.

favourite kind of soup: Cupasoup Chicken noodle, I don't really like soups tbh, I like broths, and gravy type things I make too much of and eat like a soup (like golden Currys or korma sauces)

your typical order at a cafe or coffee shop: Caramel Frappucino or an iced Mocha. If I'm gonna pay a fuck tonne for coffee I'm gonna get a drinkable dessert.

favorite ride at an amusement park: Any slow rides that show you shit, like spaceship earth at EPCOT. I’m not really a speed dude.

the color of your sneakers: RED, red shoes are the shit folks, a good pair of red converse goes with everything.

favorite pbs show (or little kids show if you didn’t have pbs): Uh I used to watch pokemon then winnie the pooh every single night. But little little kids show I used to watch a show called 64 zoo lane with my grandma so I have fond memories

Rules: name your favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by the wonderful @ashes0909

Natasha Romanov - Marvel Cinematic Universe

Carol Danvers - Marvel 616

Janet Van Dyne - Marvel Ultimates

Izumi Curtis - Full Metal Alchemist

Martha Jones - Doctor Who

Garnet - Steven Universe (if she doesn't count bc, space rock, Connie)

Rosa Diaz - Brooklyn 99

Ann Perkins - Parks and Rec

Princess Caroline - Bojack Horseman

Pam Poovey - Archer

LOOK I know there was a lot of cheating here, but I don't have non marvel fandoms really, and I have a hard time remembering a lot of the TV I enjoyed.

Rules: Share your top 10 AO3 additional tags. Tagged by the mysterious @nigmuff

look I don't know if I have enough tags to make this a justified representation, but the ones shown are v much on brand.

Fanfic trope meme

I was tagged by the delightful @capnstars and @crownofstardustandbone

slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or !!!secret dating!!! // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut AND fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or !!!!middle-aged romance!!! // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi or magic au // body swap or genderbend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

Look guys, I’m boring. I like domestic 30-40 year olds in secret relationships. We knew this.

And now buckle the fuck down folks because I'm about to answer 50 questions about me no one is gonna stick around and read.

tagged by @bardingbeedle the only person who would put up with reading this much about me.

What is the colour of your hairbrush?

I have a buzz cut, I don't have a hair brush anymore.

Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm. I have been warmer than most people my whole life, and I often need to sleep with a fan on.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Working on a sketch for an MTH fill (update from the end of this: I have spent an hour doing this fuckin thing)

What is your favourite candy bar?

Bounty. My favourite candy is Reese’s Pieces but I like a bounty. Or like, and chocolate without fruit in it tbh.

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yes, one of my parents referees Championship Football here in the UK. I have been to a few of his games. I also went to the London 2012 Paralympic closing ceremony, if that counts.

What is the last thing you said out loud?

‘Oh, this will last me a few days’ I was talking to my mother about 1/2 a can of pringles, I was lying.

What is your favourite ice cream?

Vanilla. I am boring. But the best ice cream i’ve had was a cream/milk flavoured gelato in Florence, that shit slapped. I also like cheap strawberry ice cream when no one is trying to put strawberry bits in it.

What was the last thing you had to drink?

Dinner. A spinach, banana, summer fruits and coconut yoghurt smoothie (with extra raspberries). Its my nightly dinner to cheat more veg into my body.

Do you like your wallet?

Very much. It’s about 7-8 years old, it is faded to hell but it has spiderman and a pony ride stony pin

What was the last thing you ate?

See above smoothie comment, but if that doesn't count, a sugar free mint polo.

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Nope. I don't buy as many clothes as I want to, bc mens clothes in larger sizes are hard to find or expensive here.

The last sporting event you watched?

F1, I don't keep up but I watch a little with my dad every now and then.

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

BUTTER. They don't really have it here, and I don't go to movies much when in the states. But @festiveferret introduced me to it when we saw Ant-man and the Wasp, and much like poutine and Tim Hortons, I still crave it.

Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

My dad.

Ever go camping?

Yes, I was a Scout. I have done enough camping to not want to do more, it was fun when I wasn't organising it.

Do you take vitamins?

Yes, but not as often as I should, and as much as my mother bothers me too.

Do you go to church every Sunday?

Nope, not even when I considered myself christian. I go only go to church for other peoples events, and I’m an agnostic now.

Do you have a tan?

I cannot tan. I just can't, I burn lobster red in 5 minutes outside without literal sun cream for BABIES

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

Chinese food, It was easily what taught me to like more foods also, I don't eat tomato so I can't have most pizza. I love a good garlic base/bechamel, but you can't really get that here easily (yes yes I could make my own but that ruins half the point of pizza)

Do you drink your soda with a straw?

I don't drink carbonated drinks, because its like drinking pain. The fuck is wrong with all of you.

What colour socks do you usually wear?

Various colours, but I consider red on the left, blue on the right, my lucky socks. No I don't know why, but I take all exams and interviews wearing them. It’s just a thing.

Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don't drive, but if I did, No. Theres a lot of questionable laws out there but Traffic laws aren't one of them.

What terrifies you?

Pfft, most things from spiders to rollercoasters. But more seriously, Being shouted at. Shout at me and I start hyperventilating, its a thing. Also not knowing if someone is mad at me. I’m not good at reading people,

Look to your left, what do you see?

The wallet shown earlier, and the sugar free polos mentioned after that.

What chore do you hate?

Vacuuming. It makes everything in my body hurt. I would rather clean toilets.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

@s-hylor

What’s your favourite soda?

See above. I do not like your pain liquid. Apple juice for life.

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Either delivery or kiosk, I don't like talking to people where possible, I often need tweaks I don't want to have to remember to repeat.

Who’s the last person you talked to?

@downeyhills

Favourite cut of beef?

I don't generally eat beef, lamb, or most red meats. I love crispy chilly beef, but as anyone can point out its bc your generally don't feel the texture of the beef.

Last song you listened to?

Everybody Wants to Rule the World | Tears for Fears | Pomplamoose

I’m on a Pomplamoose kick, and I also just love this song anyway.

Last book you read?

Understanding Comics (The invisible Art) - Scott McCloud

Favourite day of the week?

Friday nights. The weekend is ahead and @loraneldin and I take to wrangling our beloved usual suspects through another week of Ults Book Club.

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

I can barely say it forwards.

How do you like your coffee?

With milk and sugar, or ultimately, in a Caramel Frappuccino bc I'm a bitch like that.

Favourite pair of shoes?

I have walking boots that don't make my flat ass feet feel like they’re dying. OR my black and green crocs (Fight me, they’re useful).

The time you normally go to sleep?

9-10 is what I'm working on, but I fluctuate depending on if I'm working on something or not.

The time you normally get up?

5-6 If I have a choice in the matter, but often 7-8 if I didn't get to bed at the right time. I’m more about getting the right hours in for my diet than time specifically.

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunset is the prettiest, but I like to be awake to see the sun rise.

How many blankets on your bed?

One big thick comforter, because that's the uk standard, and I get too hot otherwise.

Describe your kitchen plates

Two types, big wide white ones with a navy blue rim. They are so large I never use them, and little Navy saucer plates I use a lot.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

I don't drink, so no. I drink apple juice or Shirley temples when I'm in pubs/bars

Do you play cards?

Sometimes, I like to teach people to play Old Maid. It’s the monopoly of card games.

What colour is your car?

Again, I do not drive.

Can you change a tire?

I am aware I just said I don't have a car, but I do know how to change a tire. Everyone should go learn its pretty simple.

Favourite job you’ve ever had?

I have only had one job really and two job experience jobs. I did experience in a school library for a week and that was v fun and chill. I did all the jobs they had prepared for me in 2 days so I alphabetically reorganised their fiction section for the rest of the week. I LIKE ORDERING.

How did you get your biggest scar?

I no longer have a gallbladder, so I have 3 scars across my torso from that, the biggest right in the middle of my ribs. Non surgical wise I have matching scars on my knees from ripping holes in them when tripping. I have weak ankles and also I got both of those at different times.

What did you do today that made someone else happy?

I gave my spare animal crossing Iguanodon skull to a wicked artist I follow on twitter so he could complete his dino park.

#text post #tagged in #wow long post #wow x2 #tag memes

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youcantkillamutant · 4 years

Text

The Advocate: Three Weeks Before Finals

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: Lex is just trying to get through senior year without failing anything massive, so when she sees a lamb on her running route she ignores it, mostly.

Warnings: Cursing, Mention of Death (Human & Animal)

Words: 3K+

A/N: Hi….Remember me? Yeah. I’m still here, this time with a God!Erik AU. *shrug*. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

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3 Weeks Before Finals

“Get out!”

“I am. I just wanted to check my—” Flashcards. One can never over-prepare. Right?

“No. Non. Nope. No m’am.” Ruby turned Lex by her shoulders. “You promised last week that you would relax. Pinky promised! So go have your weird picnic.”

“But—”

“No buts! I’m leaving you a bath bomb by the tub, and you better use it when you get back.” Lex felt a wave of affection for Ruby. Over the years she had surpassed roommate status and built herself a home in Lex’s heart. Lex opened her mouth to thank Ruby, but Ruby had already opened the door.

“I know, I’m the absolute best and you love me most. Now go!” With a shove, Lex was out the door and Ruby slammed, screaming a muffled ‘love ya!’ through the wood.

“Love you too Ru.” Shaking her head, Lex made her way to the stairs, sliding on a pair of cat eye sunnies and adjusting the basket on her arm. Today is going to be a nice, wonderful even, but most importantly relaxing, day. Hopefully.

*^*

“So how exactly are you getting out of this Cousin?” Erik was sat in the dungeons of Eko, where the sky meets the earth in a clash of thunder and splash of waves. It’s probably the closest he’s been to the earth below in a few dozen decades. Glossy and clean, the cell wasn’t uncomfortable, especially not for a God, but it was annoying. His prank was harmless, and suddenly the Elders are yelling at him about ‘disrespect’ and ‘ineptitude’.

“First of all, this is ridiculous. It was one prank!”

“One out of a billion.” Shuri noted sharply.

“Exactly! What makes this one so special? Why are the Elders mad about this? They hardly pay attention to us nowadays. Since when are they sticklers for the rules Shu?”

“It is…strange that they’re truly upset with you.”

“See! You know I’m right. Something is going on.”

“You may be right, but you can hardly prove it.”

“Yet. I can’t prove it yet.” Erik’s face had twisted into something fierce and contemplative. Shuri shook her head.

“You know, your scheming is what got you into this mess in the first place. Besides, mother and I have a plan for you. One that the Elders have already approved.” Shuri handed him a file. Erik’s eyebrows shot up, They hadn’t bothered with paper in a few dozen centuries. Then he opened the file.

It had the picture of a girl, cute, but unknown to Erik. She had a warm smile and dark circles under her eyes, wide lips and a button nose. Her name was on the next file, along with her date of birth, age, height, blood type, lineage and even her weight. Apparently, she was a student descended from good stock. If Erik thought back hard enough, he might have remembered fighting with the girl’s great-great-grandfather in some unholy war.

“Who the hell is this?”

“Your Advocate.” Shuri shrugged when Erik recoiled.

“She’s human. She doesn’t even have a degree. Or a drop of godly blood.”

“Actually we’re still running the tests on that one, but that’s not the point. She doesn’t know much about us, but she’s smart and fair. The Elders have approved her. They believe she’ll be unbiased with…everything.”

“Everything? What do you mean everything?”Erik figured he’d be out in a years time, five at most. No longer than a blink for a god his age. The Elders rarely bothered to hold grudges with Gods like him. He was too important for the balance to be indisposed for too long.

“There’s to be a trial.” Shuri could literally see Erik’s anger as veins of gold rose up his arms, trailing towards his neck. “Before you get upset! It was either a trial or immediate exile.” Shuri had expected this to blow the wind out of his sails, but Erik only grew angrier.

“So my only chance of coming out of this is a little human? I’ve never even met the girl!” He pounded on the bars of his cell annoyed that he was beginning to feel the chill of vibranium bars.

“Exactly. I’ve convinced the Elders that if you can convince the Advocate to help you, you deserve a trial. Led by Wakandan law and defended by her of course.” It was actually the most she could get the Elders to agree to. Even as she sat pleading on her knees, the Elders merely raised a brow and nodded in irritated acquiescence.

“Well where is she?” Erik looked around Shuri, but knew his ‘Advocate’ wasn’t around. He would have noticed a human on Eko. He wasn’t the Gatekeeper, but he knew energies.

“Erik, you don’t actually think the Elders would allow her into Eko without you convincing her first.” Erik rolled his eyes ad let his head fall against the wall.

“Now how am I supposed to do that from a cell Shuri?”

“You and I both know you can be resourceful. Pranking is not your only skill.” Erik stared up at the ceiling as Shuri walked away, wishing for the first tie since his imprisonment that his father was still around. At least he could give him some strength. Unfortunately, Erik would have to bolster himself.

“Good luck Cousin!” She didn’t bother saying anything else as she exited the cell. If Erik couldn’t get his Advocate on his side, then those might be the last words she ever said to him. Better to keep them jaunty rather than grave.

*^*

It was hot. Not unbearable, but not ideal either. The sun wasn’t shy today, finally breaking through the clouds that had been hanging over town. Still Lex trundled her way towards her favorite running path on campus. Huge shades covered her eyes, lips pursing in the heat and a wicker basket swinging on her arm. She’d borrowed the basket from the only pair of her friends that she classified as adults: Tom and Lucie. Though they were all around the same age, the couple had a nice little apartment, and emanated an air of togetherness that Lex couldn’t imagine having as a scattered grad student.

Lex pulled out her phone to share her location with Ruby at the entrance to the running path. Nothing had ever happened to her, but plenty of people had plenty of stories. The path was attached to some National Park and so long as you had your university ID, you could get into the thick of it for free.

On a running day, Lex found herself going ten or so miles, but today she just wanted to make it to her favorite little meadow. She wasn’t completely stressed, and so she didn’t need the run to get rid of excess energy pulsing through her. Today was a day to relax. Wiggling her toes in her shoes, Lex set off along the path.

It took nearly an hour, but she made it. By now, sweat made her skin sticky and the breeze came and went every now and then wrapping her tight and releasing her to the relentless heat of the sun. The meadow was just as nice as it always is, quiet and simple. A bed of grass dotted with toadstools, wildflowers and shrouded in peeling sycamores. The sun filtered through the leaves and the wind enticed them to dance, like a nature-made disco ball.

There was a vignette of three old tree trunks, stripped white and smooth. There was one in the center, nearly half her height, and some days, Lex could see bunnies and birds flitting around the area. Not today it seems. She shrugged, pushing away the irrational sadness at not seeing her usual gaggle of woodland creatures today, and shook out her blanket.

Lex kept her head low while pulling out her lunch letting the sun warm her neck for a bit. Remnants of fresh brie cheese were wrapped in kente printed beeswax, water crackers, a freshly chopped apple and another for the road. A turkey and swiss stacked with tomatoes, onions and lettuce on beautifully brown rye bread; fresh bread being one of the only things Lex splurges on weekly. A bottle of tea completed the setting, glass bottle winking in the sunshine.

Lex sank into the blanket, feeling a few blades of grass poking through the soft blanket as the tree roots cradled her. Eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, letting the exhale force any tension out of her body. When she blinked her eyes open, ready to eat, there was a brown lamb next to the tree stump, not even a breath away.

*^*

“I suppose you’ve heard the news Auntie. I’m to convince an ‘Advocate’ to help me.” Erik let out a bark of a laugh. “Can you imagine, the life of a God in the hands of a human. A tragedy for the storybooks, huh?”

“As far as I remember, you’re meant to be convincing that human to help you, so instead of belittling her, why don’t you get to work?”

“I already have. I’m just waiting to see if she bites.” And to see if she’s as ‘fair’ as Shuri says.

Ramonda raised her left brow tempted to ask more of her nephew. Did he not see that his place in the Godly court was at stake? Instead he lazes around in his cell waiting for a human to what? Rise to his bait? Briefly she wondered if this was something he learned from his time in the human world. They had lost track of him when he was small; Chaos and Kindness searched high and low for the little God. Still it took them a decade or so to find him and when they did…Ramonda shook the thought from her head as Erik spoke.

“What are you doing here, my dear Auntie?”

“Since you asked Nephew, I’m here because the Advocate was my idea. And I fear I would be remiss in my duties as your family if I did not help.”

“You’re helping me?” As the Goddess of Order, Ramonda had curled her lip at Ertumke the day he was born. A child born of Chaos and Kindness was never bound to be her favorite. Still she did her duties as a Godmother, not that the child seemed to care.

“Contrary to popular belief I do care about you Ertumke. You’re my nephew. Though irritating and often ridiculously dramatic, you are family. And you were the first to put a smile on T’Challa’s face when his father left.” There was a wave of silence as the sentence settled, but Ramonda breathed life into her body again in an instant. “Shuri did the hard work of getting the Elders’ approval. Now I’m happy to induct the girl but please Ertumke, no games.”

He seemed to think about this for a while, tapping his chin and studying his Aunt. They’d never been particularly close, Erik had always favored Shuri out of the lot of them, but then again, Ramonda had never done him harm. Even now she looked uncomfortable in his presence, but I suppose that makes sense. He is the child of Chaos. Order never sat well with him.

“I asked for Shuri and they sent you.” Erik had clanked an empty cup against the glass of his cage, barked a few orders at a Dora and waited. He should have known they weren’t going to get Shuri. Those demigods never get anything right.

“She’s been in the lab for a while, I wouldn’t want to break her concentration.” Ramonda knew just about everything of Shuri’s life except what happened in her lab. As far as she was concerned it wasn’t her business, or her speed. She’d much rather influence a few architects than spend her time trying to understand Shuri’s latest invention for the world below.

“Oh, Shuri couldn’t help her big cousin cause she’s in the middle of an invention orgy? Good for her.” Erik smirked and stroked his chin.

“That is my daughter you’re speaking about Ertumke.”

Erik shrugged. It’s not like he was actually talking about sex, which would have actually been normal for Gods like him. No, Shuri spent hours and hours in a lab, inventing and came out looking like she had just rolled through sheets with some of Eko’s finest. Still, he said nothing more on the subject, knowing that he should be grateful anyone came down to the dungeons at all. It was such an odd temperature here for Gods. Nearly cold enough to raise goosebumps.

“I would greatly appreciate your help Auntie.” Erik’s voice was more of s rumble than a clear sentence, and Ramonda’s mouth fell open in shock. There is a first time for everything she supposed. Even Ertumke asking another for help.

“Would you like some water? I thought you were choking on your pride for a moment there.” Erik cut his eyes her way with a minimal amount of heat and she laughed.

“I wish you had called for us earlier. You’ve already sent out your, bait?” Erik nodded though Ramonda barely paid him any mind, releasing a heavy sigh. “I’ll be late.” this time Erik really did choke on a laugh.

“You’re worried about being late? You’re a God. We invented time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being prompt Erik. Especially in a situation like this.” Besides, the Goddess of Order absolutely despised tardiness.

*^*

The lamb merely blinked at Lex. She froze, wondering what the hell was going on. Sure she’d seen rabbits and a few deer on the running path, it was a national park after all, but she’d never seen a lamb. She’d actually never really seen a lamb outside of a petting zoo, and that was ages ago.

This lamb, brown and unmoving, glowed gold in the sun. It’s fur had hints of red and curled like hers, in tiny kinky knots. It’s ear twitched as Lex exhaled and she froze again. The next time she breathed out, it tilted its head towards her.

“Uh…hi.” An ear twitched at the sound of her voice, but that was it. Still, she couldn’t pick up her sandwich, not while that little lamb sat there, looking at her.

Scooping the extra apple out of her basket, Lex approached the tree stumps. The lamb gazed on, black eyes unblinking. She’d taken off her shoes and socks and the grass beneath her feet was warm. The weeds circling the stump of the tree gave way the Lex’s knees as she knelt down to drop the apple before the lamb.

When she glanced up, just for a second, she saw the lamb dripping golden ichor from a crown of black thistles. Surrounded by torches and granite, the lamb was on an alter. But then she blinked, and the image was gone. Shaking her head, Lex wandered back to her blanket and ate her lunch. She was probably imagining things anyways, breakfast had slipped through the cracks in favor of another few hours of studying before Ruby woke up and berated her for it.

Lunch was delicious, the bread and brie especially. As she ate, Lex could feel tension slipping from her shoulders. She’d been coming on this path for years, and there was nothing like sitting out here. The natural sounds coaxed her worries away, and her eyes slipped closed under the sun.

When she woke an hour or so later, the apple was gone along with the beautiful brown lamb.

*^*

“Hallelujah!”

“Ruby, Jesus!”

“You look relaxed! You actually chilled out!” Ruby let out a whoop in Lex’s ear. “Though I see you haven’t used the bath bomb yet.” Ruby leaned into her neck for a whiff. “And you really should.”

“God okay, I just got back Ru.”

“I know, I know. Okay,” She plucked the basket from Lex’s arm and turned her towards the bathroom. “Go take a bath and soak in all of the serenity you found today. I’m ordering us takeout and then we’re watching crap TV!” Lex rolled her eyes as she stumbled to the bathroom.

The sunny day had taken more out of her than she imagined. She could still feel the heat on her skin as she undressed, and couldn’t stop thinking about that lamb. Sure she’d seen bunnies on the trail before, but never a lamb. Turning the hot water on, she let the tub fill as she grabbed her speaker and phone.

Light synth beats and soft piano chords filled the bathroom along with the steam, and Lex twisted the water off. Sitting on the floor, leaning over the edge of the tub, she let the bath bomb plop into the water. Closing her eyes as the bomb fizzed away, her mind drifted. She slipped into the glossy purple water absentmindedly relishing in the heat that prickled every inch of her skin.

This is always the best part of a bath. When the day is done, chores and homework taken care of, and you have to do is let the water ground you. Any movement, even your breath creates a soft current in the tub, encouraging the water to lap at your skin in a continuous embrace. Lex loved this moment, letting her head fall back as her eyes drifted shut.

When she blinked her eyes open, the album was drifting to a close and the lamb was back. In her apartment. In her bathroom. Lex jumped and water sloshed over the tub, crawling towards the lamb. She thought the steam was crafting illusions, but when she rubbed her eyes and blinked them open again, the lamb was still there. Steam swirled through the air as the lamb stood unblinking.

On a whim, Lex reached out a hand, palm open, water dripping from her fingers onto the mess on the floor. There was no way this was actually happening. Ruby would have noticed a lamb walking through the apartment, right?

“Hey, little one. What are you doing here?” Just like earlier, the lamb cocked its head at her words. Then it stooped down and licked a bit of water from the tiles. When Lex blinked again, the lamb was gone. Lex sat back gazing at the ceiling and wondering what the hell was happening.

It must be the heat. After napping out in the sun, and then a warm bath, she must just be experiencing some extreme heat exhaustion. Or some—

“Lex!” Ruby’s voice was higher than she’d ever heard it before, which raised an alarm. Ruby hated sounding shrill, she said it reminded her too much of her mom. Wrapping herself in a towel Lex hustled out of the bathroom and stopped short. Ruby was sitting on the couch in front of a woman. A woman in glowing robes.

“Um…hi?”

“Hello, Alexandra. I trust you are well.”

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A/N: *peaking out from behind a luscious palm* Hi everyone! I hope you’re all doing well! I never meant to leave things this long, but I got distracted with building stuff to redo my room and then starting a new job just as Rona got her feet on the ground.

I’ll admit I’m pretty nervous about posting this story. After being away for so long, it feels like I should just dip my feet back in and start slow. I’ll be honest I haven’t written in a WHILE. I’m kind of afraid I forgot how to write? lol *yikes* I’d love to know what y’all think, and I’m going to try to be a little more active in posting this story.

As I said before, I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a year and some change now (I think), and I was inspired by Champion by killmongersgurl.

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Let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the taglist :)

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl

#the advocate #God AU #my writing #mine #black panther #black panther fic #bpfic #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger fic #erik stevens x black!OC

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spicymishtii · 4 years

Text

HE(ART) • Victuuri

Prelude

Victor Nikivorov x Katsuki Yuuri

Parallel universe AU

Belief.

Ignorance is a bliss and a bitch, a generally popular universal truth, but hey, if that bitch has aided you to slap a quarter of your life with a big bold try me placard by your inner self-uplifter and has made you immune to this oh-so-evil humankind, you would believe the power of ignorance is not just a bliss but a fucking blessing. Unfortunately which, it seems only a chosen few possess.

Hence by laws of the hypothetically giving-a-fuck universe, Katsuki Yuuri just so happens to be one of the few elites. Though his ability is not that of intentional ignorance but plain old oblivion.

At the most recent occasion—that is right now—his ignorance can also be replaced with the fact that he’s running so he doesn’t really have much fuck to give to peers turning around from all directions to look at him.

And while that on a calmer day might reassure his questionable fashion choices, today he knows, he knows he smells dangerous enough to cause an epidemic merely by existing.

You see it was not his fault that his naïve (motherfucking) juniors tried moving an entire rack of chemicals that had just so happened to consist of all variants of Thioacetone.

Of course, the idea couldn't be any worse and by the end of screams, flailings, glass breakings, and trickling of the solutions to any and every corner of the room the lab had come to smell like diarrhea at a super level. He hates college.

After picking his nails while half-heartedly listening to the threats and scolding the ultimate seniors (those crazy Einstein-haired Ph.D. ones) had given to those juniors (who resembled a group of terrified hamsters by then), he reckoned it okay for him to slip out quietly.

He’s sneaky, sue him.

Cue his professor’s email.

He has special ding-ring-ring! notification in his baby to clearly inform him of the demise he acquires from his soul-suckers every now and then. Not that he doesn’t like his professors (he loves and respects them thank you very much), it’s just he’s so tired. Almost fourth year into college and he has given up on his personal and social life.

He has even forgotten the last time he masturbated. Rimming his textbooks (plus internet), mating his chemicals and blowing his assignments are on the verge of making him question his sexuality. But then he remembers, how he has always known what he was signing up for all those years back.

And if he wants to reach the finale, he gotta ace this final. And if he wants to ace the final, submitting his paper on Organic synthesis via Enolates before midnight is a nice starting point.

So he continues to torture his suppressed Usain Bolt gene while eloquently cursing his very respectable prof to be traditional as fuck and not utilize the normal idea of e-mailing.

For the total amount of time and energy his legs have flown him by, he thinks he deserves to be all the way across Iceland, instead, he makes peace with reality whilst reaching the dorms. He’s humble, you’re welcome.

One day, one day, he’s going to go on strike and petition to the admins for a goddamn lift. He has no care about learning to be punctual or money which he knows they won’t have any problem with; he and he’s sure every single living creature in college needs one elevator in their dorms just as badly as Romeo might have all those years back.

But he'll think about it later when his whole third year is not on the line. He needs to get to the most crucial year and graduate the fuck out of this hellhole.

The stairs squeezed out whatever hope was left within his knees until he’s left banging on the door akin to a lunatic with both of his hands. It’s a bad day—the chronicle since this sunny morning is proof enough—so he wasn’t surprised when halfway through his journey he had realized his dorm keys have been forgotten in his lab coat. Why he had even bothered to flick it out of his bag he doesn’t know but life is all about learning through mistakes so.

He can hear the shrill tone of his platonic soulmate/roommate shouting Who the fuck is this?! from inside but he’s too breathless to answer. The door snaps open only seconds later revealing a fuming owner of three hamsters that are perched on different heights of his body.

The person’s expression morphs into that of confusion then concern then suspicion then understanding and lastly deadpan. Yuuri flings his body on the said hamster-father who accepts him with a squeak and almost imbalance.

Subsequently closing the door and carrying the skeleton, Phichit Chulanot has once again proved himself to be The Best Friend™, something he’s going to rub on Yuuri’s face later.

As soon as Phichit sits both of them down on their excuse of a couch, Yuuri shoots up hitting Phichit’s jaw in the process.

“You—,”

“Later Chu!” he cuts the upcoming verbal splash fast and sprints inside his room, snatches the file and he’s out the door screaming bye. He loves Phichit for not barbequing him or offering him up to an asylum and staying by his side loyally.

He has been honestly touched since the time Phichit got so used to unearthly smells on his body that he doesn’t even ask or get mildly uncomfortable now, and readily accepts hugs and cuddles from the human equivalent of a drain. He could never thank the universe enough.

He could faintly hear his platonic soulmate’s voice above his head so he looks up while continuing to dash down the stairs and finds Phichit leaning dangerously down the railing of their floor and shouting something he can’t really make sense of.

“What?!” shouts Yuuri, faltering a little in his pace.

“I said come back home at human hours we gotta be somewhere tonight!” yells back Phichit.

Not again.

“Ugh I’ll try!” he huffs out, almost slipping on the latest step.

“Bitch I’m going to murder you if you don’t get your nasty ass inside before nine it’s important!” screeches Phichit.

“I’ll hecking try I promise!”

“Yuuri it’s really important I have people you need to meet!”

“And I have a year I need to pass I’ll try my absolute best Chi, have faith!” yells back Yuuri and jumps over the last three steps hurrying out the building screaming outta ma way! to everyone around.

Then, he runs.

Their campus is a beautiful place with all the ponds and cherry blossoms that bloom at this point of the year. There are a few benches scattered around along with some intricately designed bushes and trees beaming at him from wherever eyes could reach.

Though the inside of their college buildings are technologically advanced, the outer environment gives off an early Japanese town vibe. He isn’t shy to admit his practice of favoritism regarding one particular pond and cherry blossom tree on his way to the library (where his professor probably is doing his own research).

His lungs are quite significantly burning from whatever the fuck adrenaline did to his conscience but he is one obdurate masochist so his voluntary muscles abide by his brain. His throat is all dried up and his breath keeps getting caught, he doesn’t understand why he is torturing himself this way but then a voice in his head answers he doesn’t have enough money to repeat a year so.

At one point his vision blurs but he supposes it’s because of his lack of sleep. Well, he is pretty exhausted.

Nearing the pleasant scenery, naturally, he glances towards his favorite chilling spot but what he sees effectively makes him stop.

The cherry blossoms, which were supposed to be all fresh and full and thick and brimming with life… is barren. Not a single petal could be seen even beneath the tree, only the desolate brown of winding branches doing little to nothing in shading the newly painted bench underneath it.

It’s detached, the way the bare tree and the empty bench overlook the clear water of the small pond in front; it’s so cold, so lonely, it has never been lonely around it.

A breeze blows by, weakly stroking the skin of his neck and fingers that are exposed. He shivers; it's cold.

It’s spring. He wonders if temperatures can drop so much in the afternoon because he definitely remembers the morning to be all warm and sunny and most importantly, he remembers seeing the tree, the full-thick-jovial tree only yesterday on his way to class.

He, on every molecular level, doesn’t know how what he is seeing right now is even possible. Surely he shouldn’t be the only one right?

His eyes rake over the students running or just walking by around him but none of them look mildly uncomfortable with this situation. He wonders if there has been an experiment or an artificial situation that caused his pretty little blossoms to leave without a farewell.

He wouldn't be surprised if it is so, after all, what he learns on a daily basis about the expertise of this century, he’s sure if there’s something other than criticism that doesn’t faze him anymore, it’s human intelligence. His only discomfort is how and why he hasn’t heard about it of all people.

There is a buzz on his upper thigh through the thin fabric of his ash-colored pajamas. He slips out his phone and stares at the notification of a text from his classmate informing him of his presence being required asap in the library.

Yuuri mutters a shit and pockets the phone, breathing in to keep the formation of lactic acid at a bare minimum for the rest of his way. He peeks back one last time at his beloved, ready to depart, but once again what he sees effectively freezes him.

Because they’re full. The fucking cherry blossoms are full.

Yuuri opens and closes his mouth like a fish in the middle of the street to try and explain whatever happened just now to himself.

He fails.

He’s about to start pointing accusingly at the tree to every passerby and shout in their face if they too saw what he did but surprisingly stops himself before making another rash decision in his life.

He keeps standing quietly before he decides that yes he needs to go sleep before he goes mad for real and maybe get his eyesight checked as well.

He turns around, shakes his head to pull himself out from whatever trance he is in and notes to allow himself to rest. As he has only this assignment to submit, he doesn't think anything can stop him from going dead this weekend, so he pushes himself one last time and promises himself a while of tranquility later.

But this time, he jogs.

Jogs are quite neat, rhythmic and luckily good for health—he will say if you ask him. Considering the number of times he has jogged to reach his lecture halls or played around with Phichit, he can probably say it’s what that has kept him from wilting away like the autumn leaves after inhaling those oil and grease that comes with the college life.

If we ignore the biologically healthy benefits of the kind, he appreciates jogs much more because of his bestie, as all things considered, these are the only moments when they both could goof and run around like they're meant to do without having the weight of both their majors hovering over them like a depressing gray cloud. Phichit misses him, he knows. But Yuuri will go down arguing he misses him more and he rarely lies.

Yuuri stares at the ceiling mutely, a pencil flicking in his hand every now and then.

Phichit glances at him just as quietly while continuing his essay on medieval era music from where he’s sprawled on Yuuri’s bed.

He takes a quick peek at the ceiling then at Yuuri then at the ceiling and then Yuuri. He sums up nothing.

“What are you thinking about? Don’t you have a test tomorrow?”

Yuuri’s gaze doesn’t waver. The pencil between his fingers stops spinning.

“Us.”

Phichit snorts. “You fell in love with me?”

“No, I have standards,” Yuuri replies seriously (“Hey—”) “I just—don’t you sometimes think we were meant to meet, meant to be best friends—be together till now and years to come—and even if we weren’t, we were meant to die together as complete strangers—if that would’ve gone off—as an apology or like, a tribute from the universe for the friendship that we have today that wouldn’t have existed then.

Like there’s this fate, which decides everything for everyone and time which, like you are to me, is the same to fate and both map and plan out everything for everyone from their beginning till end and all the coincidences in between. People say all those quotes about how we write our own fate but in reality, we don’t write shit.

Time makes us do what we do and fate then gives us whatever our actions have earned—good or bad. We both earned to meet each other—time pushed us to the right point and fate just did its magic in return.

They always leave a door open for what-ifs to be guesstimated; they give us doors to go through—most of the time they pull through whichever door we eventually stand across and sometimes they push ’cause they need to. We were pushed Phichit—we were pushed in that lake together to drown—we were pushed to be saved and then, we were pulled to be friends, slowly, at our own pace.

But what if we would have drowned? What if you wouldn’t have jumped in naively to save me when you didn’t know a cent about swimming? What if it had gotten too late? What if the ambulance had got caught up? What if the doctors failed to push out the water from our lungs? What if we had died, together?

They tend to leave these what-ifs a lot so we reflect. We reflect and either we grow better or worse, unlike itself. The universe is so stable, isn't it? With all the dark matter and the little white ones in it—quite like human personality yet it’s us who keep changing; we’re irregular, varying.

Besides that, I wonder if any more pushes are left, any more pushes to land me somewhere crucial yet, because at this point I think I’ve utilized all my pulls. Don’t you, Chi? Don’t you think about the universe?”

Yuuri stares back at Phichit who has gone silent.

Yuuri raises a brow; Phichit closes his mouth.

“Exactly what’s going on in that head of yours? Yuuri are you… are you okay? Why are you talking like this? Just half an hour ago we were having a debate on Teletubbies—you—what, why?” Phichit asks in disbelief.

Yuuri rolls his eyes.

“Just because.”

Phichit looks like he is about to go big bro mode and ask whatever the hell he meant just now but he cannot find a head or tail of how to begin so he shuts up and heaves a breath aggressively.

“We must, shouldn’t we? we’re not even at quarter to our lives. There must still be something, something big, something extravagant—something that push worthy. They should’ve planned it by now. Fate must be waiting; time is slow. Will you be ready for another ‘Kimi no Na wa’-level change in your life?” Yuuri wiggles his eyebrows.

Phichit sighs and decides to go along even though he’s still one hundred percent blank.

“I’ll learn if not,”

"Hmm… we always do I guess.”

Yuuri pushes the door slowly that opens with a haunted creak, the sound pretty much deafening in what it seems a deserted library if not for the clear clicks of keyboard keys from somewhere deep inside. He closes the door as silently as he can with the inevitable old wood creaks.

His slippers tap loudly on the polished marble of fused colors whilst he tries to follow the echo of keys. The library feels odd, this being the first time for him witnessing it so solitary, bleak. He wonders if the students are hidden in corners for their own space. His eyes scan through the shelves to search for anyone, or preferably his teacher. He passes by an aisle quickly noticing motion from his peripheral vision before he backtracks.

There sits his teacher, typing away on his laptop with as much concentration as he narrates his golden days during a substitute class. The volume and number of books sprawled across the table is no joke. Yuuri knows he doesn't want Ph.D. and definitely not Research but the scenes of pure mental torture still cultivates a shudder within him.

He clears his throat. He is ignored.

He sighs and makes way to his teacher’s chair.

“Sir?” he knocks on the table. His professor flinches hard at the interruption.

“Oh… oh you. Don’t scare an old man that way, you imbecile,” he huffs.

Yuuri ignores the comment (he’s used to it) and retrieves the file from his bag.

“Here, sir. By the way, did you ask for me?” he places the file beside a book lying open.

“Oh yes, yes. I need your help young man. I hope it’s not a bother,” he gives Yuuri a quick look and goes back to typing.

“Sure, no problem,” there goes my tranquility, “What for, if I may ask?”

“Thank you very much Yuuri, it’s really appreciated. You just have to type the rest of this document from this paper I have already written and save it. You can leave after that, just shoot me a quick text,”

“Are you leaving Professor Cialdini?”

"Oh yes. I have a meeting with the other professors in the Science department that I couldn't miss for my life. It’s about you lot after all,” the professor teases, “And I need to get this shithead done and published before I die. I refuse to leave earth without doing it so I’ll be very thankful if you just type out the last page. You’re the most reliable regarding this affair, although a little inelegant but it’s just typing and I couldn’t choose anyone else.”

Was that a compliment or insult?

“So I’ll be leaving the rest to you,” his professor pats his shoulder to which he offers his trademark smile and nods.

Professor Cialdini takes his file and disappears around the shelf, the echo of his boots fading. Yuuri heaves a long, long sigh and hopes the writing on this one page is at least eligible. He shrugs off his bag and pushes the chair back to sit down following the faint sound of the door closing.

He checks the page closely from where he’s been told to copy and cracks his knuckles. His professor’s handwriting is shit as expected. Floating his fingers above the keys, his elbow knocks out the spectacles case his professor must have forgotten about. He presses his lips in judgment.

He bends down, folding his body, to retrieve the case and lean back up after getting a hold. Except in the process, his head hits brutally at the table’s edge and he groans, immediately messaging the throbbing area. He tries opening his eyes but everything surprisingly goes into a blur for such a simple hit, it’s as if the blur from a while ago has increased tenfold.

His head hurts not only from the impact but the sides and all over, his head pounds. He senses a feeling similar to being clogged by water. He feels as if he is drowning all over again the way he had those years ago. He can’t speak and his throat indulges to emit only whimpers which are way too cryptic and way too hushed.

He is practically thrashing around in his seat causing the chair to go off-balance several times yet his legs can't find any stored glucose to provide for the use of them.

There’s a shrill sharp beak of sound in his ears which is raucous and increases the hurting of his skull intensively. He wants to shout but he can’t. He bangs his head down on the keyboard, holding it and tugging his hair roughly. He feels so, so exhausted. Grey dots in a vast plain of blackness keep appearing without fail and it is probably what he sees, feels before his body gives up in place of his fortitude.

End prelude.

#au #writerblr #yuri on ice #victor #yuuri #writing #fanfiction #my first time writing victuuri aaaa!!

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ivyfics · 4 years

Text

With Me - Chap 5

Even as an alive person, Tetsurou wasn’t easy to live with. He knows that much at least, fleeting memories of frustration and roommate agreements floating around his head.

Not much has improved with him as a not-alive person either.

Read on AO3

Pairing: KuroTsuki Rating: M Chaps: 5/? (May change in the future) Additional Tags: Ghost!Kuroo, Haunted!Tsukishima, Tiniest bit of crack, Future angst.

PREVIOUS CHAP - NEXT CHAP - INDEX

“You are not walking out that door wearing that. Absolutely not.” Tetsurou floats, hands on his hips. Works on learning how to give someone the evil eye.

“Can you hear that?” Kei pauses, hand stilling where he’s tying his shoes. He tilts his head to the side and closes his eyes straining to hear. “It’s me, not caring.”

Kuroo is used to Kei being an absolute little shit by now, so he only scoffs. “You have such a nice ass and you waste it–squander it!–on ill-fitting garments. What has your ass ever done to you? Don’t you fucking grab those shoes!”

Kei pointedly ignores him, sliding his feet in, retying his already perfectly secure shoelaces. He’s a bunny-ears type of guy and it makes it worse for Kei to be ignoring him on purpose while making bunny ears with his laces.

Tetsurou shimmers close, unties the other one side, and starts tying it again, no bunny ears on sight. Kei tries to bat at him. “Don’t micromanage me. Go away!”

Tetsurou swerves before Kei can make contact and when he’s a safe distance away from Kei’s long arms, he pulls on the end of the hoodie’s string until it’s uneven.

Tetsurou hates that thing. Loathes it. “I’ll burn that thing!”

“Excuse me!?” Kei tightens the knot with deliberate force. “I get no respect in this house. This is my place! I pay rent!”

That feels like an unfair shot, Tetsurou has never had to pay rent because he doesn’t live here (Or at all, really.) “Yeah, well, I was here first.”

“You bitch.”

“Asshat.”

Kei’s alarm goes off and he pulls himself away from their squabble. “I’m going to be late today.”

Wednesdays are study group sessions for Kei. He gets home and immediately dives into bed until Tetsurou pesters him to at least change into pajamas. On the days where he’s especially annoying, he might get Kei to have a snack before bed. “Play nice with your study group. Take off your earphones once in a while, talk to another human being.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later.”

“Don’t forget to eat if it’s getting late. Have a power break. Keep hydrated!”

“Yes, Mom. ” Kei walks away, middle finger high in the air.

Tetsurou doesn’t know it yet, but he started a war that day.

Even as an alive person, Tetsurou wasn’t easy to live with. He knows that much at least, fleeting memories of frustration and roommate agreements floating around his head.

Not much has improved with him as a not-alive person either. He’s nosy and too loud sometimes, he doesn’t hold his thoughts when he should. It’s not surprising that there are, occasionally, consequences to him being himself.

But this? This is going over the line.

Kei’s made a game of it, after their little spat last week. He’s turned it into slow, drawn-out torture. Taken all of the minuscule malice that lives in his gigantic body and poured it into the most miserable punishment.

Kei walks out of the bathroom already dressed. He comes out and stands, just stands, hands in his pockets, and manufactured aloofness radiating from his every pore.

Kuroo stills.

He looks once, twice, and gasps. “I don’t hate it. I don’t hate you in that. This is a mistake.”

There’s glee somewhere in Kei's expression. Hidden underneath all those layers of smugness and superiority, Kei is happy Tetsurou likes how he looks, he’s sure of it.

Maybe.

Maybe Tetsurou has finally lost the last marble he didn’t know he still had.

Kei is wearing what Tetsurou would consider the most obnoxious bright yellow tracksuit and he looks… so fucking good. Like Good good.

Like ‘Tetsurou might have tried to pick him up in a past life’ good. It’s slouchy and baggy and cool, somehow, matching to a tee with Kei’s pre-sleep vibe. The one that makes his eyes heavy and half-lidden and his expression slack. His limbs are leaden heavy and every move is set half a step slower.

It makes Tetsurou feel weird. Fizzy. He doesn’t know how to cope with it. “I’m sick.”

“You’re not sick,” Kei fires back. “You’re a ghost, you can’t get sick”

Tetsurou stammers. He feels off and Kei makes something inside him turn. He doesn't like turning, wants no part of it, no siree. He’s sick . “Oh, how do you know that, Mr.Ghost-Expert?”

“Can you get sick?” Kei's tone is mockingly bland.

“I don't know. What if this is ghost sick? Could I re-die? Like dead but a deeper level of dead.”

Kei’s eyes go nearly white with his exaggerated eye roll. Tetsurou half wants to smack him and half wants to run away and hide in between the walls for thirteen eons.

Kei gets home late one evening, walks in, drops everything, and stands in the middle of this kitchen. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Do you have to?“ Kei pleads. “Is there nothing else you could do?”

Tetsurou doesn’t pay attention to him at all, engrossed in his show.“What?"

"Kuroo."

Kei’s tone has him turning to see him.

Ah.

Tetsurou shrugs. “Pretend I am a cat. Accept my quirks with grace and a little loss of dignity.”

Kei closes his eyes, defeated, for a moment. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again.“Cats don’t crawl on walls.”

Tetsurou doesn’t move from his perch on the wall beside the window. “Only because of physics.”

“I could have lived somewhere else. Rented the other apartment. It smelled like mothballs, old pizza, and weed.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kei carries on, voice warping with his trek to the bedroom. “‘ This one is cheaper ’, I said. ‘ What’s a little ghost now and again’ , I thought?”

Tetsurou lets him be. “Fucked yourself over with that one my friend. Ghost time is all the time.”

Rain, this far up, is soundless. A soft cushion from the everyday noises that reach them from the outside, a barrier sprinkling from the sky. Rain falls.

Storms rage. They are loud winds beating against the side of buildings, announcing their violence with gusts like fists that carry darts of raindrops and shuddering cries of thunder. Unignorable.

Alive.

Tetsurou sighs, contented. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

The storm hasn’t disturbed Kei’s reading against the couch. He’s one of those people who shift, hasn’t been able to be still in one place while devouring pages. He started on the couch, sitting against the arm. He’s on the floor now, sitting with his legs crossed on the second-hand rug his brother sent him in the mail. It doesn’t go very well with the rest of the room with its odd orange circles and green lines, but a rug is a rug and the shabby hair looks soft, even if it’s worn in places.

Kei burned through half of his book since before the storm became one and at this pace, he’ll be done before bedtime. “I thought you liked it when it was sunny?”

He does. He very much does love to gorge on sun until he’s drunk. Storms have that same vitality, energy pouring out of the sky and beating itself against concrete and glass. “I like sunny days and storms. Rain is very middle ground. Overcast is neither here nor there so I don’t like those very much.” It’s quite poetic, really, seeing as Tetsurou is the embodiment of neither here nor there.Maybe it’s just sad. He’d rather think it’s poetic. “I love storms.”

Kei hums in agreement. Someday Tetsurou will learn how he can make even a hum sound patronizing. “Of course you do. Isn’t it like ghost law?”

“What?”

“It starts storming, and out come the creepy ghosts to murder everyone?”

Tetsurou sputters, offended. “I am not a creepy murder ghost. I’m a cute, helpful ghost.”

Kei almost chokes on the scoff that comes out of him. “Sure.”

Tetsurou is about to refute with a ten-point list of why he is a cute, helpful ghost before he’s interrupted by a flash of light, followed by a deafening crack of thunder that plunges them into darkness.

Kei lowers his book to his lap, throws a mildly annoyed glance at the speckled window. He looks up at the ceiling when he’s bored of watching rain hit the window. Let’s out a deep, bored sigh when there’s nothing else to do. “So. What tricks do you have?”

“Tricks”

Kei doesn’t even look at him. “Yeah. Ghost things. Spooky stuff. Tricks. ”

“I'm not a dog.”

“I wish you were a dog.”

Tetsurou smirks. Kei is not ready for this. This is his moment. Finally, he's going to scare Kei shitless and win this thing. He focuses on Kei, on the way he looks around, his human eyes finally getting used to the drastic shift in lighting. He’s relaxed, at ease with the noise and the thunder. Lightning strikes at a distance, it’s light faint through the sheets of water. It sets Kei’s face alight for a moment, bouncing off his glasses and Tetsurou admires his penchant for timing by releasing his question straight into Kei’s head exactly at that moment. What kind of dog?

Kei's shoulders go up with a jump, a choked gasp. His head swings forward with a jerk to look at Tetsurou.

Tetsurou riots. Just gives it all in one big evil villain laugh. Finally!

“Not funny.”

“ Au contraire , my friend, t’was very funny.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh, you know, a little creepy murder ghost action.”

Kei rubs at his temple. “So you can just talk into people’s heads. That’s neat. Just great.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked for tricks.”

“If you can do that then why do you talk normally?”

Tetsurou shrugs.

He doesn't want to forget what it feels like to have a conversation, even with himself, to talk out loud. Losing words feels like losing more humanity. He doesn’t want to forego words for thoughts but Kei doesn’t need to know that. “It’s a bit rude, talking into people’s heads all the time.”

“Fair point,” Kei concedes with a nod, always one for politeness. It takes him thirty seconds to break from pretending he doesn’t want to know. His tongue clicks on his teeth, mild tone betraying the twitching of the hand not holding his book, thumb jammed on the page he was reading. He seems to notice he’s still holding it and places next to his knee after gently folding down a corner. “So, what else can you do?”

“Other than that, not much that you haven’t already seen.”

“Can you make other people see you?”

Kei looks at him, dissecting his expression. Tetsurou doesn’t know what he’s looking for but being on the end of Kei scrutiny always makes him antsy. “Uh, haven’t really tried?”

That is a lie, a bold-faced lie he hopes Kei doesn’t catch.

Of course, he’s tried. He tried, and tried and tried. It never worked. Nobody saw him. Nobody listened to him.

Nobody but Kei.

There are other things Tetsurou can do.

He can be solid but not for long. It drains him until he loses his shape and starts to phase through things unwittingly, making him feel as if there were two tons of bricks weighing him down for a while. He had to learn how to stop going through shit. It was so annoying, trying to grab onto something and going through it instead.

To make himself solid is not to return to his body. It’s not summoning a physical copy. Tetsurou is not flesh and blood. It is to steel the rawness of the entity that he is, pure unadulterated energy. Create a case around it, add weight but still feels like a ghost.

Thankfully, Kei doesn’t catch on and moves along. “Can you possess things? Make the couch cushion possessed?”

“Objects are a different thing. You see me move shit around all the time.”

“But is it like...Telepathically?”

Kei has been curious about it for a while, Tetsurou can guess, hearing the hidden excitement in his voice. “Yes. No. More like, a magnet, I guess?”

Tetsurou basically tapes the energy coming off of him to the energy left behind on objects until he can move them. Objects don’t particularly feel anything but if it’s a big object Tetsurou will feel very icky so he tries to avoid doing all of these things at all costs.

Then he opens his big mouth and gives Kei unsolicited information. “For humans, it feels wrong.”

It’s the best he can come up with to describe it. The energy of living human people is a cobweb of light surrounding them and what they touch. Strings upon strings of energy spooled together and slowly unraveling on all the things they come in contact with. Kei’s are a mix of—as a big Fuck you! to Tetsurou himself– yellow and orange, with some shiny black coming through very rarely.

He hates human strings. Every time he’s run through them even on accident it’s thrown him for a loop straight into hell. Minus zero out of ten, would definitely not recommend.

Kei gives him a look, a full one, with pursed lips and thinking eyebrows.

Tetsurou sighs. “You want to feel, don’t you?”

He nods. “I wanna feel.”

“Dude, it’s going to feel bad. Like, Awful bad.”

Kei juts out his hand, unphased. Tetsurou reluctantly brings his own hand forward, slowly, to give Kei a chance to change his mind. He doesn’t. The tip of Tetsurou’s finger glides over the top of Kei’s palm, phases through the barest amount, and a shock runs through his arm. Kei pulls away first and stares at his hand, runs the fingers of his free hand over the spot Tetsurou touched over and over.

He trips over his words trying to get them out. “It's like ice but more.”

“That’s...pretty accurate actually.” The freezing cold of the universe doesn’t solely belong to the void of endless black among the stars. For Tetsurou it’s frost burn, menthol invading his nose and his chest until he’s sure he’ll shatter.

“How?”

“As you know, there is not much material in the So now you’re transparent department, but I’ve thought about this a lot, so I think I have it down.”

He appreciates Kei’s restraint at the lack of an eye roll, but even in the dark, he can sense the twitch in Kei’s eyelid. “I think people who are compatible just have compatible energy. That spark everyone talks about. Some people aren’t so it feels icky.”

Kei does not appreciate his scientific breakthrough. “What?”

He rewinds a couple of steps. “Energy transfers through touch. It’s why it feels… icky to touch people. Alive people, I mean. For me. I—It’s not meant for me anymore. I’m different so it feels weird. It’s not compatible energy so you feel the oddness. Things—like the walls and stuff—they get charged with the energy of the stuff around them. Your bed, the counter, all of that.”

“My bed?”

“Yeah, your bed has your strings all over it.”

“That sounds so wrong,” Kei shudders out and closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall. The rain has picked up, drowning out everything else but the two of them, enveloped in the shadows of Kei’s books and the peek of moonlight valiantly sailing through the storm, reaching past the windows to die on the floorboards. A brave, silent death, beaten down by the sound of the wind slapping raindrops against glass. It’s a painting, a vignette of quiet.

Kei’s breathing is even, not daring to disturb the storm raging outside. “Hmm. Tell me more about these...strings I apparently leave all over my bed.”

Tetsurou matches the sound as best he can. He’s guessing at the volume, imagines his vocal cords in his mind’s eyes, and wills them to be calm. “Over everything, really. Just by being around it, it becomes a little more yours. It soaks up who you are, how you feel.”

“Everything should be yours, then,” Kei says, “since you’re here all the time.”

Tetsurou doesn’t leave anything behind. He doesn’t own anything anymore, really, other than what is left of him, his thoughts and his words; but Kei is happy and content with that lazy smile of his he’s probably not aware he’s showing and Tetsurou is not in the business of making Kei unhappy. He’ll be the scary, creepy ghost that owns Kei's apartment and that comes out during thunderstorms.

He laughs it off and they talk for hours and hours in low voices and hushed tones while water beats around them and Tetsurou expressly does not dwell on how much he wishes he could leave something of himself behind in their shared four walls, or own something inside the apartment other than his thoughts.

Bladder pressing down on his need for sleep, Kei crawls out of bed, hands smudging his glasses. If he’d exert the effort of putting them on properly he wouldn’t have walked into a wall, but you live and you learn. Halfway to the bathroom, he stops. The window is open, curtain fluttering with sporadic gusts of wind.

Were he someone else, he’d think of stories of spirits and things from the great beyond told in the dark.

On the windowsill is Kuroo, face lax, and centered on faraway worlds. The ink of his hair blends with the shade of the almost raggedy navy fabric, shoulders slumped and curled where he hugs a single knee against his chest.

Save for now, Kuroo has always looked alive.

Splashes of moonlight dance on his skin, bursts aided by the blowing breeze, light on ivory.

Kei is half asleep, surely, to think that whatever ethereal being is perched on his windowsill is made of the same energy as the bumbling nerd leaving obscene drawings on his mirror.

Whoever, whatever it is, they are filled with melancholy seeping through their form, pools of something beyond Kei’s ability to comprehend with his sleep-addled mind in the half-lidded gaze peering up at the moon.

Kei goes back to his room with slow steps, lays back on the bed, bathroom break forgotten. Slumber pulls him back, witching hour casting a veil of untruth to his late-night sightseeing until he wakes an hour later, bladder screaming.

When Kei wakes next, fully, late night memories are cast as fleeting dreams that manage to escape him in the rays of sunshine now slanting through his blinds, body tangled up underneath covers and a blanket of something close to sadness on his shoulders.

Kei’s missing something, he knows.

It follows him when brushing his teeth, when he drops his toast butter-side down on the floor when he steps on gum on his way to class. He doesn’t have a clue what it might be.

The next couple of nights find him sleepless.

Kei tosses and turns until he gives up, flinching when his feet meet cold tile. He slumps to the living room defeated and wanting company to distract him from his lack of sleep.

Instead, he’s met with a specter.

The odd wave that chokes him is déjà vu , he knows, but the once useless factoid of its opposite lives within that moment too. A new friend with an old face, twisted and blended in mismatching, perfectly fitting parts, stumbling into an unknown place for the millionth time.

Jamais vu has never made sense until it has.

Kuroo doesn’t register his presence at all.

He’s torn between calling out for comfort and breaking the spell that has fallen over them silently.

One more look at Kuroo and he’s set.

Kei’s sheets are as unforgiving as when he first rose.

#ghostfic #withme #kurotsukki #kurotsuki #hq #haikyuu!!

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shawnsorangeglasses · 5 years

Text

The Opposition - Part 1

2.7k words

the law student!shawn au is here and all because i can't keep my mouth shut or my hand down. meet Caroline (she'll get a surname later). today she has turned Shawn's morning on it's head.

warnings: none, bon appetit

Shawn saunters across the northernmost green lawn, deliberately crunching leaves beneath his heels. There's about five other people are heading in the same direction, weighed down by their heavy bags and arms full of folders. He remembers a time when he used to be like them. Green, small, and in a hurry. But he’d been in law school for two semesters now and the worst was behind him. He never had to join some stupid fraternity and even has an internship squared away at a decent firm just within city limits for next year.

His phone buzzes in his coat pocket but he doesn’t need to look at it. It’s only the alarm to remind him that orientation is in an hour. He’s supposed to be greeting incoming students today and participate on a student panel. Just enough time to grab breakfast from the cafeteria.

The dining hall is virtually empty as it is most early mornings. Other than a couple people sat by the window tables, the room was dead. Shawn meanders through vacant chairs while briefly checking his email. His employer for the summer break has yet to get back to him on details of his position at the firm. Any information he could get his hands on to prepare is invaluable to say the least.

Then a person bumps right into him right before he can pass the vending machines, spilling chilled water all the way down his front.

"Shit," she whispers, then turns reaches over to a table for some napkins. "Sorry, sir. I should have been paying attention."

"Sir?"

The woman takes a better look at his face. "Oh, you're a student. Dressed like the dean?" She hands him a bundle of napkins. "Halloween isn't for a couple of months."

Shawn has to stop himself from snatching them out her hand. "I have a panel to do this morning," he says through his teeth.

"The student panel? What time are you-"

"Do me and everyone else a favor and watch where you're going from now on."

She scoffs. "Excuse me, Trench Coat, but you ran into me. Try looking up from your phone for once. I was here first."

"Didn't you just apologize to me for not paying attention?"

"Yeah but that was before I realized you're a prick."

Shawn takes a closer look at her now that she's insulted him. At first glance, it looks like a mess, but he starts to wonder if she purposefully dressed this way. Her jet black hair is big and wild, contained only by a headband. She definitely doesn't look like any other female student he's seen this morning, wearing a faded Eagles t-shirt, black sweats, and untied sneakers. He checks his watch. Forty-five minutes.

"Listen, I’d love to stand here and win this argument, but I have somewhere important to be."

"Hm, hope your attitude improves before then," she says as she slips past him.

Shawn shakes his head as she shoulder checks him on the way out. He looks down at his wet button down and slacks. The best solution for now was to just button his coat and grab something quick for his stomach. He would not allow himself to be messed up by this stranger.

…

It's several minutes before orientation begins. Shawn is bounding across the parking lot, coat still buttoned up in the August heat. A few moments sat in a sunny courtyard table didn't do much to dry his clothes, but he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He ended buying an overpriced iced tea from the campus Starbucks and moved on. Harrison, his fellow SGA member and roommate, is waiting for him outside on the auditorium steps doing a crossword puzzle. He flashes that crooked smile at the sight of Shawn and scrambles to his feet.

"What happened to you? You're usually here before me."

"I just got sidetracked at breakfast by this girl."

Harrison's jaw drops, dramatic as usual. "You finally got a girlfriend?"

Shawn rolls his eyes. "Why is love all you think about? No, in fact this person in particular was actually pretty rude." He opens his coat. "She did this to me."

Harrison's eyebrows hike up. "Oh."

"I just want to do the panel and end this day already."

"Well just a heads up, we have a newbie, uh Caroline, joining the club. She's really cool, I think she'll be a nice addition."

"Good, because the last thing student government needs is another wrench thrown in the middle."

The dimly lit lobby is filled with students waiting to be let in. Shawn and Harrison cross the foyer and enter the vacant auditorium. In the center of the stage is a table and a young woman with her back turned to the seats.

"Caroline," Harrison calls out, "this is Shawn. The guy I was telling you about earlier."

Shawn almost chokes on his drink when she turns around. Of course, it's the young woman from the dining hall, dressed very different from before. She's traded her sweats for a slim red dress and her once wild hair is tied back in a neat bun. A wry smile plays on her lips, which now also wear a dark brown paint.

"Trench Coat," she chirps.

"You?!" Shawn can't control his tone. His voice echoes all the way into the lobby.

"I don't fucking believe it." Caroline places a hand on her backside. "Have you fixed your attitude yet?"

"You two know each other," asked a very confused, but also amused, Harrison.

"Unfortunately," Shawn bites. "She's the reason my clothes are a mess."

Caroline hops down from the stage and jogs up to them. "It's just water. And again, you ran into me."

Shawn blinks in disbelief. "Who the hell let you on SGA? On this panel?"

"I did."

Attie Bartlett emerges from behind the curtain with another chair for the panel. She's fairly easy to mistake for a student with her 5'2" stature and simple clothes. The only thing that gives her away now is the patch of gray on the top of her hairline. Shawn composes himself in her presence. Attie's been the SGA sponsor since long before he enrolled.

"I don't know what's going on with you kids, nor do I care, but you need to get backstage and wait to be called."

Harrison and Caroline run past the curtains. Shawn stays put, frozen at the edge of the orchestra pit. He contemplates diving head first into the music stands. Attie's just about to walk to the entrance and let the new students in when he stops her short.

"Ms. Attie, you can't be serious about Caroline," he whispers.

"I know," she sighs and keeps walking, "she's a tad different from what you're used to. But give her a chance. She might surprise you."

"I hate surprises."

"Go. Backstage." Attie gives him the look and Shawn sulks away. As he's passing the curtain, he tosses what's left of his tea in a nearby trash bin.

Naturally, Harrison is chatting away with Caroline in the girls dressing room. Shawn peeks inside from behind the door. "Harrison, you and I can't be in here."

"It doesn't really matter if there's only one fully clothed girl in here, Shawn," says Caroline. "I grant you passage."

He steps into the cramped room, "I wasn't talking to you."

She's staring back at him, smug and smart in her little red dress. Harrison is sat on the counter in front of the wall mirror. The vanity lights above his head make his usually brown hair glow with a tinge of red orange. Shawn takes the space next to Harrison, leaning back with his arms crossed, eyeing Caroline. She holds his gaze, not at all bothered.

"You guys, this is so great," Harrison beams. He continues to ramble on about how SGA needed more girls since the last few graduated this past spring. Only Shawn's not really listening. He's watching Caroline, taking everything in. Thick, dark eyebrows. A dimple in one cheek. Large, sharp nose. All of it impossibly irritating. Especially how even when she's not smiling, the sides of her mouth still curl upwards like she is.

Harrison's still reeling. "She's like a girl you, but relaxed. I'd say we might be a solid friend group again."

"We're not friends, Harry," Shawn mumbles. This makes her ears perk up and her eyes narrow.

"Well, why can't we be?" Harrison, all the more hopeful, moves next to Caroline. "I mean this feels right."

"Yeah, Shawn," Caroline chimes in. "This feels right."

"Quit saying 'feels' like that." Shawn rises to his feet, so he's just barely towering over Caroline. "I won't go that far, but I suppose a welcome is in order. SGA and the Student Mentors take any and all who qualify and I have to trust Ms. Attie made the right decision, as much as I may disagree."

Caroline extends her hand, beckoning Shawn to shake it. He takes hold of it cautiously. "I look forward to working with you Shawn."

Attie knocks on the door and it swings open. "Hey, come get in place you three."

…

The newcomers had plenty of questions and for whatever reason took a strong liking to Caroline. Every word that fell out of her mouth was charming and funny. No other person in student government had that kind of effect on people. And although he'd never say it out loud, Shawn was impressed.

Then orientation ends and Shawn can't leave fast enough. He and Harrison are halfway down the steps when his friend pulls on his sleeve.

"Oh, there's Caroline."

Sure enough, she is standing a few feet away from them, earbuds in, scrolling through her phone. Her hair is out again. "Let's invite her to lunch with us," Harrison says and starts to walk in her direction.

Shawn yanks on his jacket. "Harrison, she doesn't want to eat with us," he hisses

"How do you know? We haven't even asked her yet. Caroline!"

She takes a second to look away from her phone. "Yeah?"

"We're going to Waffle House right now. You wanna come?"

She glances at Shawn but he immediately averts his gaze to the nearest tree. "Only if it's okay with him."

Harrison glares at Shawn, and he sucks in his cheeks. "Sure," he says, forcing a smile, "the more the merrier."

Caroline skips down the steps to join them at the sidewalk. Harrison links arms with her while Shawn keeps his flush at his sides, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. As walk they off the campus grounds, he starts to relax. Strolling like this always clears his head. He seldom ever walked anywhere without being pressed for time.

"So what're you two studying," Caroline asks.

"I'm majoring in literature and Shawn's in criminal law," Harrison says proudly. "You should see him in the mock trials they put on every other weekend."

"I do okay," says Shawn.

"He does fantastic," Harrison corrects. "Last semester, he owned Jared Price's ass in every single trial."

Shawn suppresses a smile. Harrison enjoys boasting about his friends and he always means every word.

"So that's what you meant when you said you'd 'win this argument' in the dining," Caroline murmurs.

Shawn almost didn't hear her say it, and she's pretending he's not there when he looks her over.

"I may have been a bit coarse when we met this morning. I apologize. You caught me at a bad time."

Her lips twist into a pucker. "I'm sorry for spilling ice water down your pants."

For a brief moment, her eyes meet his. Shawn’s the first to look away when his face feels hot. He clears his throat for no reason.

"See," Harrison squeaks. "We are friends!"

"Don't push it Harry," Shawn warns.

The Waffle House sits on the corner of the school zone's intersection. Despite being a visual sore thumb to the otherwise professional office buildings lining the block, it often stays packed with kids either from the high school or college campus. This Friday however, the crowd was rather thin.

The three students walk into the small diner. Somebody recently put "Mr. Blue Sky" on the jukebox. Harrison makes a beeline for their coveted booth. It was the perfect spot in the corner window and not far from the music.

Caroline takes one side of the booth, and Shawn takes the other. Harrison is sat in the middle. A waitress named Joanne meets their table shortly after they sit down to take the drink orders.

"I'll be right back," she says then dips back into the kitchen. Shawn begins to unpack his laptop. The paper he was revising last night reappears on the screen. He picks up where he left off.

Harrison looks up from his menu, "Shawn, Kate told me she wanted to talk to you."

His nose twitches at the sound of her name. "Tell her I died," he says, not missing a beat.

"Or you could go listen to her?"

"Who's Kate," Caroline asks.

"A good reason to take a shot of cyanide," Shawn sighs.

"Shawn, be nice," Harrison insists. He turns to Caroline. "She's his ex. And probably first real girlfriend. And he needs to talk to her before my data runs out from her texting me about you."

Shawn types faster. "We were hardly anything for two weeks before she completely ghosted me and now she wants to talk? Hard fucking pass."

"First girlfriend," Caroline repeats. "In college?"

Shawn stops typing, "I didn't make time for relationships before now. Besides, I was trying to get into law school."

Harrison leans in Caroline's ear, "Which is insane with his face and body. I had three boyfriends total in high school and I'm a barely a seven."

"Not everybody can be a man whore like you Harrison," Shawn mumbles.

"I am not a man whore," he huffs. "I'm just charismatic. Something you could try a little harder to be."

Joanne comes back with an orange juice for Harrison, two mugs for Shawn and Caroline, and a pot of coffee. She takes their orders again and pours the coffee before leaving. Shawn takes a handful of sugar packets and tears them open one by one over his mug. He's on the fourth packet when he notices Caroline and Harrison staring fondly at him.

"What," he asks, now suddenly very anxious.

"I've just never seen someone load their coffee with so much sugar," Caroline says. Harrison stifles a laugh.

"Well it tastes like hot dirt plain," he claims, nodding to her mug. "So enjoy your cup of hell."

"And I here thought you'd be the mom of the group when it's actually Harry."

"Aw," Harrison coos.

Shawn's eyebrows furrow. "What the hell does that make me?"

"Probably the moody teenager."

Harrison covers his mouth. "Oop."

"Or the old man," she adds. Harrison snorts.

"Alright alright, I get it," he shuts his laptop. “You two are a barrel of laughs.”

A different waiter arrives shortly thereafter with three plates of waffles. The lunch goes well into the afternoon. Caroline made origami frogs out of napkins. At one point, Harrison recited his lines for a Shakespeare project perfectly. Shawn just sat back watched as he entertained Caroline with soliloquies and monologues. He has no choice but to admit this really does feel right.

They end up slightly overstaying their welcome in the Waffle House and Harrison has to leave for a rehearsal at 3:00 PM. Shawn offers to walk Caroline back to the dorms. To his surprise, she gladly accepts.

“Does this mean we’re friends now,” she asks a few minutes in.

Shawn examines her before. She’s crunching leaves under her toes. “I guess I can make an exception.”

“Well thank you, your honor,” she says, bowing deeply.

Shawn rolls his eyes, “I’m studying to be a lawyer, not a judge.”

Caroline shakes her head. “Always so serious.”

“What’s wrong with serious?”

She shrugs “Nothing. But what’s the harm in loosening up?”

Shawn stops and looks at the enigma before him. She’s looking back at him, waiting for something to happen. He looks around and spots a cluster of dandelions in the grass. He picks one up and sticks it behind his ear. “How’s this for loose,” he asks, holding his arms out.

A cheeky grin spreads across Caroline’s face. She snags a few more flowers from the ground and carefully threads them into his hair. What’s stranger is Shawn lets her. She takes a step back to view her work. Her lashes flutter happily. “It’s a step in the right direction.”

taglist

@spider-mendes @sebsdreamboat @innositer @sauveteen @sinplisticshawn @sohani02 @yourkidsfavbabysitter @imaginesofdreams @matchamendes @gxccicoffee @daisychains4 @tnhmblive @nervousaroundmendes

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes writings #law student!shawn #tell me what the fuck you think or I wont sleep #I crave opinions

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jeiyuuen · 4 months

Text

more doodles I found from the pile, I just love Nika who can go pocket-sized and those bendy limbs. This is an AU of sorts but we don't worry about that for now, this is just Law and his new inhuman roommate

#Luffy can still look more human it's okay #Law doesn't have to explain this white fluffy thing #but he might have to explain where the new sunshine boy came from #I originally had a Fate AU in mind when I first started sketching these I think #but not giving too much mind on the Grail War LMAO #we'll see how it goes tho #one piece #lawlu #lulaw #jeiyu sketch #trafalgar law #monkey d luffy #Law's Sunny Roommate AU

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flourchildwrites · 5 years

Text

Cost of Living

Read on AO3

Length: 5,347 words

Rated: Explicit

Status: Incomplete (1/3)

Written for @fullmetalsecretsanta

A/N: Surprise! Guess who's your secret Santa, @vino-and-doggos . IT'S ME! Like Dickens's familiar trio of Christmas spirits, this will be coming to you in three parts, representing different stages of this college/omg they were roommates/coffee shop AU. Do you think I added enough troupes? Expect the next part when the clock strikes... tomorrow-ish. I'll post sometime tomorrow. Probably.

Summary:

Change is in the air at Central University. Due to a jealous girlfriend and rising rent, Roy and Riza find themselves on a collision course plagued by misunderstandings, white lies and the joys of social media. The cost of living can be steep. Is a Christmas kiss worth the risk?

Special thanks to @ruikosakuragi for beta-ing!

Part One

Maes Hughes was like a Rubik’s cube, a tempting puzzle that begged to be twisted and turned between Roy Mustang's palms until the colors properly aligned. In Roy’s experience, answers came when he focused on the bigger picture, as opposed to a single facet of Maes’s carefully constructed façade. But the problem presented in the answer. Seeing past Maes’s persona was only the beginning. Accepting the contradictions, taking the genuine alongside the contrived, was a skill beyond Roy’s expertise, though he enjoyed looking all the same.

And who would blame him? Maes was undeniably attractive. He had a broad grin as enigmatic as the full moon on a cloudy night, and delicate freckles dusted the apples of his cheeks like an inverted array of stars. The man’s disposition was sunny from the tip of trademark hairstyle to the toes of his polished boots, disrupted only by a pair of thin spectacles that gracefully aged him by at least five years.

Nevertheless, Roy knew that his friend’s oppressive cheerfulness was only skin deep. Granted, there was a time when Maes hung the moon and the stars in Roy’s lovestruck eyes; however, that moment had all but passed. More recently, the two men had settled for friendship complicated by a living situation that teetered deliciously on the brink between financially beneficial and conveniently satisfying.

Their apartment was at the center of it all. To the untrained eye, it was just a two-bedroom, one bath condo with an open living concept. There was nothing special about beige sheetrock and Formica countertops. But to Roy and Maes, it was residential nirvana.

In the words of the seasoned realtor Maes’s parents had hired, it was all about the location. Close enough to Central University to keep their cars parked in the condo lot, but far enough that traffic wasn’t unbearable after football games. It was a seven-minute walk to Roy’s coffee shop of choice, and from there, a three-minute jog to the grand threshold of Central University’s Law Center.

And, for whatever it was worth, their corner unit’s light was unrivaled. Tall windows lined the perimeter of the living room, extending into the larger bedroom, Maes’s room. Though Maes’s prim and proper mother had stressed the need for curtains, neither roommate had bothered considering the unobstructed view from their third story locale. But the best thing about the light was the memory of lazy Sunday mornings spent tangled in the sheets of Maes’s queen bed, a place where sexual orientation and parental expectation had given way to a shared, somewhat primal truth.

Roy liked Maes, and Maes liked Roy. Until they didn’t anymore. Until Maes’s secrets caught up with him, and Roy’s obsession with success warped into something more selfish than focused during his first semester of law school.

As far as their inner circle knew, they split on good terms, agreeing to swap friendship for the love they cultivated over the course of three years. The truth was more complicated. It was a mess of leases, a great location and lingering attraction on both sides. Until one day it wasn’t.

Enter Gracia Martinez with her perfect posture, comely looks and ideal parentage, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Maes was honestly smitten by her. Roy knew that look even though he tried not to see it. And finally, on a late November afternoon, Roy came home to a sullen Maes, sitting in their living room looking like he finally had something to say about the elephant in their condo.

“You had to know this was coming,” Maes stated solemnly after the initial awkwardness of his overdue declaration. His words pried open a wound left by their breakup that had never properly healed. “It’s not that Gracia doesn’t trust you and I living together as friends, it’s just-”

“Gracia doesn’t trust you living with anyone you used to fuck,” Roy bitterly interjected. The space between the two roommates on the sectional uncomfortably widened. As usual, Maes stood his ground while Roy lashed out.

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 years

Text

Taking Back Neverland--Chapter 6 of 10

Pairing: Captain Swan

Rating: G or a soft T

Summary: AU. After actress Emma Swan’s lead role in a popular TV show is at an end, she is offered the leading role in the Regina Mills film, Taking Back Neverland, a fresh retelling of the Peter Pan story. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. Only problem? She’ll be starring opposite Killian Jones, who she positively can’t stand. (Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection.)

Previous chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Notes: So this is an old story, originally written about 3 years ago as part of my Fluffy Fridays collection, but @kmomof4 made the amazing above pic-set for it as a birthday gift, (Thanks Krystal! It’s perfect!), and I decided it was time for a reissue. Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma woke up feeling warm and fuzzy and altogether wonderful.

The feeling lasted only until she was fully awake and remembered the events of the night before. She sat up quickly, dropped her head in her hands and groaned. Had she really had dinner with Killian Jones and told him all about Neal and Walsh?

Her stomach dropped as she remembered the emotions as she revealed her deepest secrets—secrets she hadn’t even told her best friends until several years into their relationship. Emma didn’t open up, didn’t reveal herself, didn’t give people the opportunity to hurt her.

What was it about Killian that made her suddenly turn away from all her finely-honed self-preservation tactics and turned her into a blithering idiot?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

Gradually, Emma became aware that the scent of freshly brewed coffee had wafted its way into her bedroom. Interesting. She got to her feet, put on a pair of fuzzy slippers, and walked down the hall to investigate.

“Morning, Emma!” came the perky voice of Ruby Lucas as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. Her best friend and agent held out a large, steaming mug of very strong black coffee, and that alone, in Emma’s estimation, would have covered a multitude of sins.

Emma mumbled something that may have vaguely sounded like “Good morning” before falling heavily into her favorite chair at the kitchen table.

Not a bit deterred by Emma’s less-than-warm welcome, Ruby plopped into a chair next to her, her smile so wide and sunny, Emma half expected rainbows to shoot from her ears.

“Not to be, you know, rude,” Emma said, after taking a couple of fortifying sips of the hot brew, “but what are you doing here so early, Ruby?”

The woman in question rolled her eyes. “So early? Emma it’s already 10:00! You’ve just about slept the day away!”

Emma glanced to the swan-shaped clock on her kitchen wall, and noted that her agent had indeed spoken the truth. She was normally a much earlier riser, but, knowing she wasn’t due on set until 4:00 that afternoon, she’d turned off her alarm and indulged in a day of sleeping in.

“Guess you’re right about that,” she conceded. “But the question remains. What’s up?”

To Emma’s surprise, Ruby blushed, dropped her eyes, and started absently toying with one of Emma’s placemats.

“It’s just,” Ruby said hesitantly, “well, Graham and I went out again last night.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose. Well that was interesting. Ruby was more or less the poster-girl for the casual hook up.

“That’s, what? The fourth date you’ve been on with him in the last two weeks?” Emma asked, bringing the mug back to her lips.

“The fifth,” Ruby said, sending Emma a shy smile, “but who’s counting.”

“Wow, for you, that’s really getting serious.”

“I know!” Ruby said. “I’m not, you know, the long-term relationship type. I like to just have fun, but with Graham…I don’t know, Emma; I just like him. Like, really truly like him!”

Emma smiled and then reached over to cover her friend’s hand with her own. “Ruby, I think that’s great! I really do. Graham’s a great guy, and I think the two of you could be really good together.”

“You think so?” Ruby asked, the delight evident in her sparkling eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Ruby said, “because…well we’re supposed to go out again this Friday, and I think he wants to ask me to put a name to this…thing…going on between us. You know, like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Go for it,” Emma said.

“I think I will,” Ruby said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I was gonna go talk all of this over with Mary Margaret, because she’s like the true love expert (no offense to you, of course), but she’s sick this morning. Apparently a stomach bug or something.”

“So she was telling the truth last night,” Emma said, feeling more than a little surprise. “I’d more than half expected her ‘sudden nausea’ was an elaborate matchmaking ploy.”

Suddenly Ruby perked up, like a wolf picking up a scent. “Matchmaking? Last night?” she asked, leaning forward. “Emma, what’s going on that neither of my best friends decided to fill me in about?”

Emma called herself about three kinds of fool. She’d walked herself right into that one. She did not want to have this conversation with Ruby—at least matchmaking, innuendo laden Ruby. The compassionate, good-listener Ruby might be a different story.

“It’s nothing,” Emma said shortly. “It’s just…I went to dinner with David and Mary Margaret, and they invited Killian along.”

“Let me guess,” Ruby said, “when Mary Margaret got sick, she and David left you alone with tall, dark and sexy?”

“Yeah,” Emma said dryly, “something like that.”

Ruby was silent for several moments, and Emma saw something that looked like compassion in her eyes. “Emma,” her friend said, “something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“I…talked to him,” Emma admitted, suddenly desperate to unburden herself, desperate for someone to tell her that what happened last night wasn’t as momentous as it felt.

“Okay,” Ruby said, drawing out the two syllables. “What…about?”

“I…I might have told him all about Neal and Walsh.”

Ruby abruptly sat tall in her chair, her brows nearly reaching to her hair line. “Really? Emma, it wasn’t even until we’d been roommates for three years that you told me about Neal.”

“I know!” Emma said in exasperation. “I don’t know what came over me! We were just having a conversation, and he suddenly seemed so sympathetic, and, I don’t know! It just came tumbling out.”

Ruby smiled—not her self-satisfied, “I knew it!” smile, but her compassionate “best friend” smile. “Emma, you like him, don’t you?”

“What?!” Emma shot to her feet and started pacing. “No! I mean, we are getting along better now than at first, but no! I don’t, I can’t like him the way you’re implying!”

Ruby calmly took a sip of her coffee. “Why not? And don’t give me that ‘his reputation as a playboy’ bull. I think the last few weeks of working with him have shown you the tabloids at least greatly exaggerated.”

“He is…different from what I expected,” Emma admitted, “and last night he told me he wanted to be friends, but I think he might want more, deep down, and I…I just can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about him!”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Ruby asked.

Emma blew out a long breath and dropped her eyes. “Sometimes…sometimes I wonder,” she admitted. “I mean, I know what Neal and Walsh did to me…well, they were world-class jerks, but I can’t help but wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“If…if it’s not really them at all,” Emma admitted, “if maybe it’s me that’s the issue. If I’m, I don’t know, cursed or something. If a happy ending just isn’t in the cards for me.”

Ruby came over to her and wrapped her in a hug. “Emma, I can guarantee that’s not the case. There’s someone out there for you. Maybe Killian, maybe not, but I know someone’s out there. At the risk of sounding like Mary Margaret, you just have to hold on to hope. And anyway, like you said, Killian told you he wants to be friends. You obviously enjoy each other’s company; just focus on the friend part. There’s plenty of time for the falling in love part if it’s meant to be.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

By the time Emma got to set that afternoon she was an absolute ball of nerves. Focusing on the friendship part would be a whole hell of a lot easier if her job didn’t require her to, you know, make out with her “friend”.

Because, yeah. Today was the day they shot that scene.

And Emma instinctively knew there was no way out of the “making out”. Regina had been playing up their chemistry and the rapidly developing relationship between Anna and Hook like crazy lately. She’d been explicit when discussing the scene. She expected fireworks.

The butterflies started doing the tango in her stomach at the thought, visions of Killian’s handsome face lowering toward hers…of his warm, firm lips, soft, minty breath, tongues, heat, passion…she groaned. How was she going to do this?

And why was it such a big deal? It wasn’t like it was real. It was just a stage kiss. She’d go through the motions as “Anna”, while a whole team of techs swarmed around her and Killian with sound equipment and cameras and lighting and everything else. Not exactly romantic.

So if her heart could, you know, stop pounding as fast as if she’d just run a marathon, that’d be great.

“Afternoon, Swan.”

Emma closed her eyes, trying desperately to get a hold of herself before she came face to face with him. She took a couple of deep breaths and then turned, convinced she’d gotten over her stupidity.

And then she was confronted with him and his artfully tousled hair and heavy guyliner and leather…everything…and chest hair on full display, and heaven help her, there should be a law against a man looking like that.

“Hey,” she squeaked, cleared her throat and then tried again. “Kinda nice to get the morning off, right?”

“Aye,” he said with a slight inclination of the head. He was silent for a moment, just looking at her. “Look Swan, I thought perhaps we’d best discuss our plans for our scene today before we shoot.”

And somehow, Emma didn’t even know how it was physically possible, her heart started beating even faster. “Um…yeah, I guess.”

Killian scratched at the spot behind his ear, blushing slightly and turning his eyes away from her. Finally he looked back. “I’ve had my fair share of scenes of this nature, being, after all, the leading man on many a chick flick, and I can assure you they’re always a bit awkward…particularly the characters’ first kiss.”

“So,” she said, “what do you do to make things…less awkward?”

“It’s best when there’s trust and understanding between the actors involved,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I assure you, Emma, I want you to be as comfortable as possible as we film today. To that end, I’d like to propose that it be you that takes the lead in Anna and Hook’s kiss.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Aye,” he said firmly. “It would seem to work well with Anna’s character, and it will ensure this is as pleasant an experience as possible for you. You, love, decide the direction this kiss will take, and I’ll merely follow you.”

“But…I mean, you’re involved too. Don’t you want to …I don’t know…do something to make yourself more comfortable?”

His eyes widened melodramatically. “Why Swan, do you have intentions to take advantage of me?”

She rolled her eyes, barking out a laugh. “You are such an idiot.”

He grinned. “Aye, but tell the truth love, you quite enjoy my nonsense.”

She shot him a look. “Maybe. From time to time.”

“Alright! Places everyone!” Regina shouted. “We’ve got a lot to cover today, and I for one don’t want to be here until 4:00 in the morning.”

Emma took a deep breath as the nerves took over once more. This was…this was a lot to deal with, stage kiss or not. She offered up a quick prayer that she didn’t make a total fool of herself.

Emma took her place in the “jungle”, having just passed the flask back to Killian. She closed her eyes, took a couple deep breaths and got into character.

“Did you really save him?” Anna asked, surprised in spite of herself.

“Does that surprise you?” Hook asked, looking aside.

She smirked. “Well you aren’t exactly, how do you say it, ‘mates’.”

“Doesn’t mean I’d leave your brother here to die,” he insisted.

Anna looked carefully at him, looking for the lie, looking for the caveat. It wasn’t there. Unless her ‘superpower’ was wildly off, Captain Hook was telling the absolute truth. She felt a sudden, intense wave of gratitude, of grudging affection.

“Thank you,” she said firmly.

He was uncomfortable with praise; she could see that well enough in the way he ducked his head, scratched behind his ear, blushed to the roots of his hair. After an uncomfortable moment, he straightened, a look of pure mischief on his face as he swaggered toward her.

“Aye, perhaps gratitude is in order,” he said, tapping his lips, and looking at her through heavily lidded eyes.

Emma’s breath caught. Had it suddenly gotten about twenty degrees warmer in this stupid studio?

“Yeah,” Anna said, tiny smile on her lips. “That’s what the ‘thank you’ was for.”

His smirk became even more pronounced as he invaded her personal space. “That all your brother’s life is worth to you?”

He was ridiculous! His flirting was absolutely ridiculous, but…it was fun and it was exciting, and it wasn’t like anything was going to come of this anyway. So why not flirt back?

She swayed toward him and rolled her eyes with a little smirk. “Please! You couldn’t handle it.”

He didn’t miss a beat, leaning in so close Anna could feel his breath hot against her face. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The way he popped that ‘t’ shouldn’t be allowed; it really shouldn’t.

Anna stood irresolute for a moment, looking closely at him. This was a mistake; a huge mistake! But…she was feeling good, and they’d just had a victory of sorts, and well, there was this weird tension between them. Maybe if they just…got it out of their systems…

And this was the moment of truth. The moment “Anna Swan” was supposed to haul off and kiss the stuffing out of Captain Hook. Emma looked up at Killian, his eyes reflecting the mischief of Captain Hook…but also the reassurance of Killian Jones.

She choked. It was too much, too intense. She couldn’t do this. She pulled at his lapels, letting her lips brush against his and then quickly pulling back, making it barely a peck.

(But God help her! Even that casual contact was enough to send an electric current shooting through her body.)

“Cut!” came Regina’s distinctly displeased voice. “What was that, Miss Swan? I’ve seen more passionate kisses between siblings!”

Well, that was a whole different kind of disturbing, but Emma got Regina’s point.

“It just..” Emma tried. “It didn’t feel right. I mean, Anna’s closed off, right? Is her first kiss with Captain Hook really going to be all passionate and hot and all of that?”

Regina rolled her eyes so hard Emma was afraid she’d hurt herself. “Yes, Miss Swan, it is. We talked about this! Anna’s had these simmering feelings for Hook ever since they met—feelings she’s kept strictly under wraps. But suddenly caught up in the moment, she just wants to let it all go, just reassure herself that kissing him wouldn’t be that big of a thing. And then there’s the matter of his challenge to her.”

Emma knew that; had known her ploy for the demure peck was doomed before it began, still, her heart sank when she heard Regina call for take two of the scene.

Stop it Emma! She chastised herself. You aren’t some brand new actress about to have your first on-screen kiss! This is no big deal! Pull yourself together!

After a long, cleansing breath, she placed herself once more on her mark. She’d follow the script this time; she’d get this stupid scene over with. The sooner the better.

The first part of the scene went well, Emma and Killian both delivering their lines with ease, everything about their body language screaming chemistry.

And then it was time for the kiss. Emma tensed up, grabbed his lapels, and pulled him almost violently to herself. The kiss was longer this time; Emma let herself relax into it for the barest fraction of a moment. But when it occurred to her that it felt good, more than good to have Killian’s lips moving beneath hers, she panicked, pulling away quickly.

“Well, that was a little better, I guess,” Regina groused, “but the two of you are flesh and blood people who have chemistry, who are supposed to be falling in love with each other, not two blocks of wood slamming up against each other! Again!”

After two more failed attempts, it was clear Regina’s patience was completely at an end. “Let’s take five. Emma; I’d suggest you take the time to get your head screwed on straight. And Killian…just…talk some sense into her!”

Emma stalked off toward the bottle of water she’d left just off-stage. She took a long swig and then hung her head, wishing this day was just over. She had to get this kiss right, she just had to! With every take they did the feelings crashed into her more and more. How the hell was she supposed to stay immune to Killian Jones and his ridiculously hot everything, when she was forced to spend all afternoon kissing him?

“Alright there, Swan?”

The unexpected question made her jump, and he hastily apologized, a hand to her side to steady her. Emma refused to pull away. There was no way she was going to let him see that even that casual touch nearly set her aflame.

“I’m…I’m just having a rough time of it today, Killian,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t get this scene the way Regina wants it.”

“Hey,” he said, turning her toward himself, looking at her with clear concern. “Relax love. I meant what I said before. I want you to be comfortable. If this scene is too much for you today, I’ll speak to Regina. I’m sure I can smooth things over, sweet talk her into using one of the takes we’ve already shot.”

Emma felt a warm glow spread through her at his concern. He spoke the truth. He’d really, truly do whatever he needed to to make her comfortable. Strangely enough, it was exactly what she needed to hear.

Emma smiled gently. “That’s really sweet, but Regina’s right. That scene needs a passionate kiss. It’s perfect the way it’s written. I’ve just got to find some way to…make it look natural.”

Killian reached up and hitched a stray lock of hair around her ear. “Just relax, Swan,” he said in a low voice. “You’re over-thinking it. Just let Anna’s feelings shine through and go with those feelings.”

They were called back to set far sooner than Emma would have liked. It had been a short break, the five minutes feeling more like a few seconds, but Emma felt more refreshed than she had all day. It was going to be okay. She could do this.

As she took her place, she closed her eyes, consciously became Anna.

“Please,” Anna said softly, eyes rolling, head gently shaking. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Hook leaned closer, so close she could feel his breath, could smell the rum, the leather, the salt from the ocean. She felt herself slowly slipping under his spell. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

She waited a heartbeat. Two. She shouldn’t do this; she knew she shouldn’t. This had big fat mistake written all over it.

But God help her, she was tired of the pain and the struggle. She just wanted to feel good for a tiny moment in time.

She grabbed his lapels and pulled him to her. Her lips met his, and she groaned, the feelings overwhelming her. Her hand found its way into his hair as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss.

She knew she’d surprised Hook. It was written all over the slight stiffening of his body as her lips made contact with his.

But it took him less than a heartbeat to catch up with her, his mouth slanting over hers, his lips parting for her, his ringed fingers tangling in her hair.

It went on and on, and Emma lost all sense of time, of space, of reality. Waves of pleasure, of heat, of want crashed over her as she dived in, letting her tongue duel with his. This was…there were no words in English or any other language to describe it, but Emma knew with every fiber of her being that she’d never be the same again.

“Cut! Cut! CUT! You two keep this up and we’re gonna have to up this film’s rating.”

It was only when Regina was nearly in their faces that Emma came back to herself, realizing the director had been calling for the scene to cut for the past few minutes. She pulled her mouth free with a pop, heard Killian softly whisper her name—her name; not Anna’s name—and suddenly the mortification hit her.

What had she just done!?

She mumbled something to Regina about how she was done for the day before nearly sprinting from the stage. Chances were…not good…Regina would agree to her terms, but she didn’t care. She had to get out of here, had to get some space, some air, some freaking perspective.

She was in her coat, starting to wrap her scarf around her neck when Killian showed up backstage, looking concerned.

“I’ve smoothed it over with Regina, love,” he said. “She agrees we have enough footage to splice together a good scene.”

“Good,” Emma said, looking anywhere but at him.

He stopped her frantic movements with a hand to her arm. “Emma, love can we talk about this?”

She shot him a nonchalant look that was so fake a blind person could have seen it. “Nothing to talk about, Killian. It was just a kiss. Just a stage kiss. Our job, you know.”

He was quiet for a moment. “It was more than that, and you’re well aware of it.”

Emma felt the fear claw at her, and she used that fear to fuel her anger. “Fine! Whatever it was…it was a one-time thing! Just…go, gather some firewood for your scene with Pan or something!”

He sighed deeply, but took a step back. “As you wish.”

#cs ff #cs au ff #taking back neverland #my fanfiction #reruns

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letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked · 6 years

Text

Words On My Skin

Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: This is for @shitty-imagines-95 2K writing challenge!

(Takes place sometime after civil war, with Bucky’s new vibranium arm from Shuri, but no Infinity War!)

Soulmate AU -> Words that have significant meaning in their soulmate’s life appear on the skin at birth.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, etc.

Word count: 5900 LOL

Main Masterlist

желание

ржaвый

Семнадцать

Рассвет

Печь

Девять

добросердечный

возвращение на родину

Один

грузовой вагон

These were the words that were tattooed on your left arm.

The writing was small, only covering your inner arm from your wrist to halfway to your elbow. The miniscule writing, that had been there since you were born, was something that had significant meaning in your soulmate’s life.

Every time you looked at the words, you had this wave of anxiety run through your chest. You weren’t sure about it, since soulmates weren’t as common as they used to be, but you felt a sense of unease as you looked at the foreign words. You knew they were Russian, from a friend in high school who asked about them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to translate the words.

Your parents hadn’t paid much mind to your aversion on the writing. They knew that you would do it, in due time. Everyone did. Everyone met their soulmate, eventually.

Plus, they were more worried about you becoming their perfect child.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart? New York is a big city.” Your mother asked through the cellphone, as you hung up your clothing in your closet. “It’s pretty expensive.”

“I need this job, mom.” You reminded her, once again. “It’s the Avengers. It opens a lot of doors for me, and I’ve worked really hard for an opportunity like this.”

“Honey, it’s just an assistant job.” She sighed, raining on your parade, again.

“Today it’s an assistant job. Tomorrow, it’s finally becoming something more.” You’d worked hard to be good enough to be noticed by Tony Stark. “I’m going to be more.”

You heard a huff though the phone’s speaker, “I highly doubt that, seeing as it’s just an assistant job. All you’ll be doing is fetching coffees and filing paperwork.”

“For Tony Stark.”

“You won’t impress him, sweetheart. He’s rich and famous, and you’ll just be his assistant.” She sighed like she was disappointed, “You should’ve just went to law school, like we planned.”

“You planned.” You corrected, feeling tears prick your eyes, “You planned for me to go to law school. I never planned that.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyways. You need to be smart to get in.” You could feel the venom in her voice, “Thank god you look like me, or you’d never have gotten anywhere in life. You’re going to fail at this, too. I can see it.”

She hung up the phone.

You stared at your pile of clothes in disbelief, feeling the tears start to streak down your cheeks. What if you couldn’t do this? What if the only reason you got the job was because of your looks? Tony Stark was known for his playboy ways…

No.

You’d gotten hired by Pepper Potts, there was no way that you were only hired for your looks. You were hired, because of your credentials. You’d worked hard to earn them, and you’d be damned before you weren’t taken seriously.

“Handshake your fear.” You whispered to yourself, remembering your therapy.

During your days in college, you’d decided to utilize the free counseling – after realizing that your parents kept you in a bubble, while you were living under their roof, and you had no idea how to be an adult. You’d gone to counseling, taken classes on life skills, and met new friends who had taught you how to be your own person.

That mantra had become your lifeline.

After wiping your cheeks, clearing any evidence of tears, you continued to finish unpacking your apartment.

You were ready for any adventure life decided to take you on.

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

The Avengers compound was beautiful.

You figured it would be, considering that it was for the freaking Avengers. Mr. Stark could afford some amazing lawn maintenance, and you were sure that the inside would be just as beautiful. The spring weather made everything green, now that the sun was out and there was no more snow. The chill was still lingering, but things were finally headed towards sunny and warm.

After parking in your designated parking space, you sat in the car for a moment, doing a few deep breathing exercises. You were excited for this position, no doubt about that, but you couldn’t help but hear your mother’s words repeating in your ear. You’re going to fail. No, you weren’t.

She could go fuck herself.

After one more deep breath – in through your nose, and out through your mouth – you exited the vehicle, making your way inside.

You were right. The interior of the building was just as beautiful as the outdoors. The place was a contemporary modern design. Everything was open, and spacious. There were agents and staff walking all over the compound, all busy working, and you felt like a kid in a museum – just gawking at everything.

“Can I help you?” The security guard asked from his desk, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh! Sorry! My pass…” You dug it out of your pocket, clipping it to the collar of your blouse. “I’m actually looking for Ms. Potts? I have a meeting with her at seven?”

“Yes! You’re the new assistant! Follow me.” He smiled, getting up and waving someone over to take his place. “Her office is on the second floor, fairly close to your own. If you’re ever lost, there’s little maps at the end of each hallway, or you could just ask FRIDAY.”

“FRIDAY is through the whole building?”

“Most of it. FRIDAY is pretty handy. Especially if you’re looking for someone in the building.” He shrugged, “It’s like having your own assistant wherever you go. It’s pretty cool.”

“That’s amazing.” You laughed, memorizing the route to Ms. Pott’s office.

You politely thanked the security guard, Caleb, for escorting you to the office, knocking on the open door as you slowly entered Ms. Pott’s office. “Good morning, Ms. Potts.”

“Y/n!” She beamed, looking up from her computer, “Thank god you’re here. Tony is driving me up the dang wall.” She picked up a medium size box, gesturing for you to take it as she started to lead you to your office. “These are all your items. There’s a tablet and a phone in there for all of us to reach you, and there’s a Stark Watch in there that helps you get everywhere in the building that you’re allowed access to.”

You took note of everything she was saying as you entered your personal office. The office was really nice. Nicer than your whole apartment. There was a large desk, two comfy looking chairs in front of it for small meetings, a personal bathroom, and a book shelf for your belongings. “Oh, wow.” You looked around in awe, eyes finally landing on the stunning view of the terrace from the window behind your desk. “This is amazing.”

“You’ll be spending a lot of time here, while you work for us.” She grinned, leaning against one of the chairs, “We wanted you to be comfortable, while you’re working.”

“I think this office is bigger than my apartment.” You chuckled, putting on the stylish watch, “Thank you.”

“You’re going to need all the comforts you can get, if you’re going to be the team’s assistant.” She snorted, running her fingers through her hair. “The team is kind of a handful, but you’ll grow to like them.” Once you had everything you needed, she motioned for you to follow her. “It’s time you met Tony.”

Your stomach flipped with nerves, as you tried to fight off the jitters. This was the big moment. This was the moment that you were meeting the famous Tony Stark.

Oh god, if you were this nervous meeting just him… How were you going to feel meeting the rest of the Avengers?

Handshake your fear, Y/n.

When you entered the engineering lab, you could hear Mr. Stark’s irritated voice, “No, frostbite, I have a meeting… well it will have to wait, now wont it! You can survive without your damn arm for like twenty minutes, while I meet the fresh meat!... Oh my god! Unless you know a ten-letter word for ‘tending to cause tears’ with a Y in it, I’m getting back to my crossword… GOODBYE.” You and Ms. Potts stood there, behind him, while he slammed his phone on the table in frustration – muttering in annoyance. She loudly cleared her throat, startling him as he whipped around with his hand over his chest. “Jesus, Pepper!”

“Be nice to Barnes.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing his empty chair and sitting down. “This is your new assistant, Y/n L/n.”

Mr. Stark turned, eyes slowly taking you in from top to bottom. You watched as he raised an eyebrow, a small smirk curling his lips upward. “Well, hello there, dear.”

“No, Tony.” Ms. Potts sighed, shaking her head. “If this becomes another sexual harassment suit, I’m going to be really pissed off.”

He turned to her, face lighting up in a grin, “You’re so much fun when you’re mad.” He quickly sat in the other chair, spinning around once before grabbing his crossword puzzle and slamming his feet up on the work table. “So, Ms. L/n, tell me about yourself.”

You tried not to let your voice waver, pulling on the sleeves of your long sleeve blouse a little, “I’ve got a bachelors in Community Psychology, and-”

“Pepper,” Mr. Stark huffed, cutting you off while rolling his bowed head in her direction, dramatically, “I told you I was fine. I asked for an assistant, not a psychologist.”

“Don’t be rude, let her finish.” She slapped his shoulder, gesturing for you to continue.

You cleared your throat a little, thumb rubbing your soulmate tattoo nervously over the sleeve, “…and, while I’m a huge advocate for mental health, I’ve also been a PA for six years. I’ve also dabbled a little bit in manufacturing engineering, due to my roommate in college. I helped her, and her boyfriend, build a couple of different things. I’m no expert, but I know my way around…” You thought for a moment, “Oh, and I was a barista for the entirety of high school, so I can make a plethora of awesome coffee drinks.”

“Oh?” He turned around with a raised eyebrow, intrigued, resting his elbows on his knees and studying you harder than he was before, “Is that all?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed with his antics, “Yeah, the word your looking for on your crossword is ‘lachrymose’. L-a-c-h-r-y-m-o-s-e. It means someone who cries very easily, and often.”

Pepper burst into hysterical laughter, as Tony whipped around to his tablet, typing in the word. He grinned, turning back to you, “You’re hired.”

“I’ve already been hired, Mr. Stark.” You smirk, watching Pepper rise from her chair. She patted Tony on the back, gave you a smile, and left the lab. You turned back to Tony, “Is there anything you need, right now, Mr. Stark? We should probably go over the team’s schedule and-”

“STARK!” You heard a deep voice bellow from the door, causing you to jump. Your hand flew to your chest in a panic, heart racing.

Handshake your fear.

When you whipped around, you saw a large man stomping into the lab with a furious look on his face. His entire left arm was covered in metal – no, it was metal, you could see the gold lining between the plates – and hanging limply at his side. His hair was on the longer side, and his face could use a shave.

Though, that wasn’t what caught your eyes.

His eyes were the lightest blue you’d ever seen. They were like ice. He looked young – he had to be in his later twenties, maybe early thirties – but his eyes… they had the haunted look of a man more than twice his age.

Wait…

Idiot! Metal arm! That’s Bucky Barnes!

“Seriously! I need-” He stopped, noticing you and the startled look on your face. He stared at you, face growing blank, “Oh… sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Jesus, Barnes, try not to give our assistant a heart attack before she can actually do her job.” Tony came up from behind you, standing on your left side. “Barnes, this is Ms. L/n. Our new assistant.”

You shook off your panic, holding out your right hand for him to shake. “You guys can all call me Y/n, if you want. You’re going to be seeing a lot of me.” He stared at your hand for a moment, and you let your hand drop. “Ohhkay…” You shook it off, glancing at your watch. “Anyway, I need to meet with all of you one on one, so I can get your schedules, coffee orders, and… all that jazz.” You were starting to grow uncomfortable under his blank stare, so you turned to Tony. “You can, uh, help him with his… Wait a minute.”

You whipped back around, glancing at the dark metal of his arm, and zoning in on a spot that looked out of place. You took a step forward, trying to get a closer look “You, uh… You broke…” He took a step back from your prying gaze, and you looked back up at him in confusion, “How the heck did you break a vibranium plate? There’s something broken between the plates a few inches above your elbow.”

“Steve did it.” Bucky grumbled, looking away from you. “With his shield.”

Why is he acting so weird?

“How’d you know the arm was vibranium?” Tony asked, stepping into Bucky’s personal space so he could examine. “That’s not public knowledge.”

You shrugged, taking a step back from the men and scratching at your itching tattoo, “The metal looks just like Captain Rogers’s shield, just… darker. I, uh, did a project on Captain America in high school, so I know what metal it is… I just kind of assumed they were similar. It looks different than the one from the news reels, a few years ago, though.”

“That’s because it is different.” Tony muttered, lifting the arm up a little to get a closer look. After a moment, he looked up at you, “You said you were good at making fancy coffee drinks, right? Put what you need to make those on the grocery list on the fridge. I’m curious about your ‘awesome coffee drink’ skills.”

“Sure thing.” You smiled, as Tony made Bucky sit in a chair, so he could start fixing the broken plate. “Anything else you want?” Fucking arm needs to stop itching.

Bucky glanced down at your hand, as you scratched your tattoo again. “Are you okay? You keep scratching your arm like it hurts.”

“Oh.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your blazer, face heating up in a blush. “I’m fine.”

Why the hell was your tattoo itching?

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

The dang thing would not stop itching all day! It made working hard to do, when you literally wanted to claw the hell out of your skin. It was hard to ignore, but you’d managed to get through the day without scratching in front of anyone else.

You were already embarrassed at the fact that Bucky had pointed it out and didn’t want anyone else to notice.

The weird part about it, was the fact that you started to get a small headache when you looked down at the tattoo. Normally, you’d just feel nervous when you stared at the words. A type of nervous that would get your heart racing and make you nauseous. Like an anxiety attack, but… muted.

Weirdly, it felt like you were feeling your soulmate’s anxiety.

You weren’t sure if that was real, or not… You’d never really looked up information about soulmates, before.

Apparently, today’s the day to start.

When you got back to your apartment, after a long day of meetings with the team and getting their schedules figured out, you’d decided to sit at your computer and translate the words. You’d gone your whole life without translating them, so there was no time better than the present.

Fate was trying to tell you something.

Your heart rate increased, rapidly, as you pulled the sleeve of your blouse up to your elbow. You closed your eyes to take a deep breath and calm your nerves. Is this a good idea? Maybe this isn’t a good idea… No. It was time. You were getting too old to ignore it, any longer.

Handshake your fear, Y/n.

Your eyes slowly opened, landing on the black lettering on your skin.

Russian was a beautiful looking language. You’d generally tried to avoid learning the language, not wanting the ability to translate. The lettering was beautiful and dainty, spanning from the inside of your wrist to halfway to your elbow. Your skin wasn’t even irritated from all the scratching. The words were small, but the impact was anything but miniscule. These were the words that made the most impact in your soulmate’s life. These words, however your soulmate felt about them, were permanently on your body – for the rest of your life.

You needed to translate the words.

“Handshake your fear.” You whispered to yourself, again, finger tracing over the first word. “You’re not afraid.”

You waited until your pulse started to slow from its rapid pace, eyes glued to the dark lettering etched into your skin. You’d used google translate before, when you’d taken Spanish in high school, but it was never totally accurate. What if google gets it wrong? You thought for a moment, huffing out a breath and pressing your forehead against your inner arm for a moment, to think.

You could ask FRIDAY to translate it… But someone could see that you have a soulmate.

You could ask Natasha or someone to translate it… Ugh, but you don’t know her well enough to tell her about your soulmate tattoo.

Your head popped up, as an idea ran through your head.

“A translator!” You spoke aloud, immediately looking around your empty apartment like you were going to get caught speaking aloud. God, you needed a vacation. You were losing your dang marbles.

You could afford a translator to translate the tattoo, and the translator wouldn’t know you. It’d be fine. No one would know you, and you could be guaranteed that the words would be accurate.

You pulled up Google, typing ‘hire online translator’ in the search box and hitting enter. You clicked on the first link, reading the reviews of the website, and deciding that it was good enough. You followed the prompts, paying the $10 for a short translation, and a chat-box popped up.

Translator: Hello, my name is Inna. Can you please verify the language you need assistance with?

You: Russian to English, please!

Translator: What will I be translating?

You: A picture of my soulmate tattoo.

Translator: Okay! All you have to do is copy and paste the picture into the chat box, and I should be able to help you! Please note: We are happy to assist you and would love it if you could let us know how we did at the end of this chat. There will be a survey sent to you via email, immediately after the chat is closed.

You had a picture of your soulmate tattoo already loaded onto your computer, so you pulled up the file, copied it, and pasted it into the chat box.

Please don’t be something weird. Please be something normal.

Translator: It looks like the words are (as in order from top to bottom): Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight.

Oh, god. It was something weird.

While writing the translation down on a scrap of paper, a pang of anxiety stabbed at your chest. You thanked the translator and closed out the window, filling out the stupid survey with a clouded mind.

How could such a random string of words have such a powerful meaning to somebody? Enough so that it ends up on their soulmate’s arm? Furnace? What the fuck did a furnace have to do with anything?

You were so confused.

Just as you went to Google the words, the screen on your computer went black. You hadn’t heard a zap, or anything indicating that the computer was shut down from the power source, and you tried to turn it back on – frustration tightening your jaw. “Useless piece of junk. ‘Get a MacBook’ they said. ‘It’s worth the price’, they said.” You glared at your computer, trying the usual ‘unplug it, and plug it back in’.

No luck.

You were so calling customer service in the morning.

You glanced down at your watch, an idea popping into your head. “Hey FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. L/n?” The AI’s voice came from the little speaker in your watch. “How may I assist you?”

“Can you figure out if these words have any relevance to each other?” You asked, grabbing the scrap and holding it up. You read the words aloud, a small headache forming in your temples as you went through the list.

“Contacting Mister Stark, now.” FRIDAY responded.

“Wait, what?” You tapped at your watch, “FRIDAY, what the fuck?”

“Y/n?” Tony’s voice came through the speaker, sounding confused, “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” You groaned, feeling an intense loathing for technology. “I have no idea. My computer fried, then I asked FRIDAY a question, and suddenly you’re being called via watch.”

“What was the question?” He asked, sounding like he was working on something – even though it was ten o’clock at night.

“I was… translating… something.”

“That’s intriguing.” The power tools stopped. “What were you translating.”

“It’s… kind of personal.” You gulped, wishing you could hang up on your boss.

“What was it some sort of porn?” He laughed. “Because I think you’re looking on the wrong website.”

“NO!” You felt your face heat up, wanting to smash your watch with a hammer so you could end the conversation. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. No!” You took a deep breath, “I was translating… my… my soulmate tattoo.”

He was quiet for a moment, and the entire apartment was dead silent along with him.

“Well… FRIDAY contacted me for a reason…” He cleared his throat, “What… what did it say?”

“Oh my god this is embarrassing. You’re my boss.” You muttered, wiping a hand over your face. “It, uh, was just a bunch of random Russian words.”

“Wait.” He said quickly, “What were the words?”

“They make no sense, to be honest.” You leaned back in your chair, piece of paper in your hand. “They’re literally just ten random Russian words.”

“Y/n, this is important.” You frowned at the serious tone in his voice, “What were the words?”

“Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, and Freight.” You read them off. When he didn’t respond, you shifted around nervously in your chair. “Why are you quiet? What’s wrong with my tattoo?”

“You said your computer shut off, suddenly?” He asked, quickly, sounding like he was out of breath. “How long ago did it shut off?”

“Like… barely a few minutes before FRIDAY called you.” You replied, heartbeat picking up at the urgency in his voice. “Mr. Stark, what-”

“You need to get to the compound, now.” He cut you off, yelling at someone in the background. “We’re coming for you. Stay on the line.”

“Tony, what the hell is going on?” You stood, hugging your arms and pacing around your apartment. “Why are you coming to-” You cut off, as you were suddenly shrouded in darkness and quiet. The power was out in your apartment. “God dammit.”

“What’s happening?”

“My damn power is out.” You sighed, moving to grab your phone from your desk for a flashlight. “Hold on a moment…” You swallowed, thickly, as you noticed a little red light on the top of your laptop. “Uhh… Tony?”

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

You leapt forward, slamming your laptop closed with a shaking hand. You moved back, away from the windows.

“Y/n?”

“My laptop camera has been on this whole time.” You replied, shakily. You felt cold, chills running down your spine as the gravity of the situation was starting to hit you. “Tony, what do those words mean?”

He remained silent.

“Tony!” You cried, ripping a sweater off your bed to cover your shorts and tank top. “What do the fucking words mean?!”

“They’re the trigger words for The Winter Soldier.” Another voice replied over the line. The deep voice was easily recognizable, since you couldn’t get his damn voice out of your head all day. Bucky. Your tattoo itched in response. “You’re my soulmate.”

“Wait… what?!”

CRASH!

You yelped, startled, hearing the front door blow from the hinges. The sounds of stomping feet could be heard through the apartment. You raced to your bathroom in a panic, clicking the door closed quietly – without locking it so they wouldn’t know you were in there.

“Someone just broke in to my apartment!” You whispered to your watch, turning their volume down on the watch so no one could hear Tony or Bucky, while you climbed into the cupboards lined against the wall. There was a small space in the side where you could cover yourself with the stack of towels and linens, without being seen by those who open the cupboard.

You turned the brightness on the watch to barely glowing, seeing a message pop up on the screen.

2 minutes. Almost there.

Fuck.

You were going to be taken.

You replied quickly, Hurry. In bathroom. In cabinet.

You heard the door open to the bathroom, a man’s voice whispering as footsteps pounded along the tiles. You put a face rag over your mouth, trying to stifle your loud breathing, and stay quiet. Your screen of your watch was against your leg, to cover any glow that could come from it, and you closed your eyes in a panic. Though it was silent in the room, the pounding of your heart was deafening.

How could they not hear your heartbeat?

You jumped as the cabinet door was thrown open, forcing yourself not to make a sound as the man said something in another language that you didn’t understand.

Please hurry, please hurry, please-

You were suddenly shrouded in a blinding light, as the linen was ripped away from you, and hands grabbed at you.

“NO!” You screamed, trying to bat the hands away and back further into the cupboard. Your back was hitting the wall, and there was nowhere for you to go. “NO! Tony! Bucky! Help me!” You continued to scream, kicking your legs as the hands tried to find purchase against your bare skin, and praying that none of them were going to shoot you. “HELP!”

Your nails scratched against the wood, as a hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked. Your heart was racing, pounding in your ears just as loud as your screams. You were blinded by flashlights, the flashes of the beam like a strobe light, confusing you as you were dragged along the tile. You grabbed the door frame, but your sweaty fingers slipped right off the wood – taking a fingernail with it. Pain radiates down your arm, but you continued to try and find some sort of purchase as they dragged you to your living room.

All the self-defense training you’d ever taken flew right out the window due to your flight response. Every nerve in your body was screaming ‘get the fuck out of there’.

They stopped pulling you, leaving you shaking on the floor, blinded by the flashlight beams.

“P-please! Please!” You begged, curling up into a ball. “Don’t!”

“They’re coming. We have to go.” A man said, quietly. You could barely hear him over your own cries.

“Knock her out.”

WHAT?!

Blinding pain suddenly radiated from your head, whipping your head to the side. Someone just kicked you in the fucking temple. You gasped, ears ringing, and slumped in a daze. You couldn’t move, nor could you see, but you could hear a little bit over the loud ringing.

You felt yourself being lifted from the wood floor by a pair of large arms,

“Take the south stairwell, the car is running and ready.” A woman agent’s hard voice came from behind the man carrying you. “We’ll distract the Avengers.”

“Bucky…” You whispered, trying to open your eyes. The pounding in your head was making it hard to focus. “Bucky…”

“They’re closing in.” Someone said from beside you. “What should we do?”

“More agents are on their way. Get her in the car, and-”

The man cut off, and there was a wet spray along your legs as you were dropped like a sack of potatoes. You groaned in pain as your shoulder slammed into the floor, and you rolled from the force of the drop. Swallowing thickly, you hissed as you stopped rolling on the very shoulder that you’d injured in the fall. You slowly rolled onto your back, head spinning. You lifted your arm, slowly bringing your watch closer to your mouth – hoping that it was still functioning. “I think… I have a… a concussion…”

“Y/n?”

Oh, thank god.

“What took you so long?” You groaned, his large hands sliding under you and lifting you from the ground. Your head lulled against his shoulder, as he carried you away from the scene. “What’s… What’s on my legs?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He murmured, almost too quietly with the gunshots and yelling from down the hall. “Just don’t pass out, okay?”

“I’m… I’m gunna’ pass out...” You felt the spinning in your head grow worse, as a wave of nausea washed over you. “Or puke.”

“Don’t-”

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

“-your soulmate, Buck. That’s… wow.” You heard Steve’s voice fade in, as you started to wake up. “I was kind of worried it’d never happen.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal.” Bucky chuckles in reply. You felt pressure on your hand, as if someone was holding it. “I just can’t believe that the tattoo… that it’s the trigger words.”

“They’re a big part of your life, even if they don’t work, anymore.”

“Well, those words almost got her killed.” He sighed, sounding miserable.

“No.” You croaked, cracking open your eyes to the bright lights of the hospital room. “HYDRA almost got me killed. You saved me.”

“Hey, you’re awake.” His hand left yours, as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got kicked in the head and dropped on my shoulder.” You chuckle, clearing your dry throat. “How long was I out?”

“Not long.” He replied, handing you a small bottle of water as Steve left the room. “Just a couple hours. It’s morning, now.”

As you took a sip of the cool water, you glanced at your tattoo, blurting out, “Hey, my tattoo doesn’t itch, anymore.”

“Wait… Yours itched, too?” He frowned, leaning forward, bringing up his pinky to trace the small lettering on your inner arm. “I thought I was just going crazy… Well, crazier than normal.”

“Where’s your tattoo?” You asked, a blush rising to your cheeks when you realized that you’d just asked him something that was considered very personal. “I mean… you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to… It’s just that… uh, mine is so visible, and I- I can’t see yours.”

A small smile formed on his face, as he let go of your hand. “They’re your meaningful words. Of course, I’ll show it to you.” He rose from his seat on your bed, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and lifting it up.

You gulped, face heating up as you eyed his muscular stomach. His skin was littered with a few scars, but what stuck out was the miniscule script, staining the pale skin over his ribs on his right side. The words only spanned a couple of inches across his rib, but you could read them, clear as day:

Handshake your fear.

“Oh my god. My mantra.” Your hand slowly lifted to the area, a few inches away from his skin. “Can I… I mean… I’m sorry.” You quickly lowered your hand, looking away from him, to the white wall. “This is weird. I’m being weird. I’m sorry.”

Jesus Christ, Y/n.

He snorted, leaning down and gently grabbing your trembling hand. “Y/n, you can touch it.”

“That’s not awkward, or anything.” You muttered, lips lifting as you glanced back up at him. His blue eyes were crinkled in a large grin, and you felt your heart quicken. Blushing harder as you realized that the heart monitor sped up, as well.

You moved forward, eyes flicking back down to the tattoo as you slowly ran your finger across the markings.

His warm skin was smooth over the tattoo, muscle twitching slightly as you traced the words that had become your life’s mantra over the years.

“Wow.” You whispered, warmth rushing through your veins as you realized that this was real.

You found your soulmate.

“You know, I used to think about your words all the time. I used to repeat them over and over in my head during the war, and my time as the soldier. I still do… Even today.” You glanced up at him, watching as he closed his eyes in regret. “I’m sorry that your tattoo almost got you killed.”

Slowly, you reached your hand up to the one holding his shirt – the vibranium one – and laid your hand over the top of his. His eyes flew open, glancing down at your hands and pulling his brows together in confusion.

“There was no way of knowing what your words would be.” You slid your fingers around, so they could intertwine with his cool ones, gripping them tightly. “Though, I am a little worried about this affecting my job. I mean, I’m kind of your assistant.” You frowned, “Plus, I have to be able to afford a hotel, until I can find somewhere else to live.”

“Live here.” He shrugged, cool thumb brushed over the top of your hand, “It’s safer than any apartment you’ll find.”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t just move in here on a whim. What about my stuff? What about an actual place to stay?”

He was silent, looking away from you and pressing his teeth into his lip.

“Oh my god.” You sighed, leaning back against the bed, but continuing to hold his hand. “I’m already moved in, aren’t I?”

“It was, uh, Tony’s idea.” He cleared his throat, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “He thought it would be a good idea… to keep you safe.”

“Do you?” You looked down at your entwined hands, a knot forming in your stomach. “Think it’s a good idea, I mean. Is it weird?”

“I don’t mind.” His voice was quiet, flesh hand moving so your hand was encased between the both of his. “We could… get to know each other, more… I mean, if you’d like.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and your lips lifted in a small smile. You’d finally found the person – your person – whose life was meant to mingle with yours and be the one person meant to make an impact on your life.

You’d spent the majority of your life feeling inadequate, worthless, and trapped.

Learning to ‘handshake your fear’.

In that moment, though, you’d never felt more at peace.

“I’d like that.”

(PART 2)

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

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dreamscript · 7 years

Text

File #666

“So let me get this straight, Yoongi: you’re saying that this thing is the reason why your friends were found hanging from the ceiling fan? That this was the thing that nearly killed them?”

Yoongi’s convinced a double suicide attempt is actually a murder, and you’re busy stalking a comatose student’s blog.

request - 666: for continue file #666 from welcome to ff.net ; badpasta gone cereal.

horror triggers apply.

5.5k words, horror/thriller, yoongi + reader, college/cop au.

You tug the thick manila folder from the stack of files. File #666, marked as “resolved.” You take it from the storage and back to your cubicle. Ruminate over the case a bit. In a strange, twisted way, it’s funny: for months, members of the department had been making bets and dark-humored jokes about what the six hundredth and sixth case would be. Would it be bizarre? Or something more commonplace?

When case #665 turned out to be the kidnapping of twenty-six schoolchildren and gained international attention, speculations for case #666 grew exponentially. A mass murder. A mysterious outbreak. Or maybe someone would actually manage to summon Satan.

And yet, after all the debates and guesses, case #666 turned out to be a double suicide attempt. It’s uncommon—of course, but it was underwhelming compared to all the expectations it had garnered. You lay the folder on your desk before taking a seat. Two college students. Roommates. Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. You review their profiles, just to make sure that nothing’s been changed.

Nothing has, as expected.

According to the case file, one of them was a blogger—Jimin, you think—and a link to the blog is hastily scribbled on the bottom corner of the folder:

mochi-min. university . blog . com

Dutifully, you type the URL into your browser.

The notes in the folder say that nothing of importance was found on the website; it was simply a loose, carefree, lifestyle blog. The last few entries talked about gaming—but the psychologist’s notes say that the “sudden recession” into “nostalgic times” and the “gaming world” suggest the two stressed students were simply “trying to find an escape from reality.”

And eventually, the two boys realized that the ultimate escape was Death itself, not a digital world of fantasy. So, together, they tied each other’s nooses and hung themselves from their ceiling fan.

Or so the story goes.

You think back to your talk with Yoongi earlier, the way his voice was cracked with desperation, determined to prove the facts wrong. The webpage finally loads.

The minimalistic layout is aesthetic, functional, and the sidebar contains a sunny biography of the blogger:

Jimin. University, ‘19. I love giving advice and writing about my day!!! Dance is my passion and graphic design is my major. Hmu ! ig: @mochi-minz15 sc: @pjm995

Underneath the block of text is a small photo of Jimin. You study his face, compare it to the shots in his file. Yeah—that’s him.

You quickly skim over a few posts, not exactly lingering on a particular one, before sorting them based on chronological order, oldest to newest. Twenty-four entries total. Not bad. You’d been expecting more.

First post!!

“

Hey! I’m Jimin. As an up-and-coming college sophomore, I thought I’d start up this lifestyle blog to provide advice and other college-y things for my younger followers (or at least those who were as anxious and curious about the whole college thing as I was).

School doesn’t begin until next week, but um, here’s this post anyways. I guess I’ll see y’all laters!

”

0 comments

“You’re still on that case?”

Heejun’s voice startles you. Talk about meddling co-workers—seriously. You swear that he and Sehun are the nosiest and biggest gossipers you’ll ever meet.

“Huh–wha–yeah, duh,” you say, turning around to face him. He’s got a mildly amused look on his face, one arm resting casually on your cubicle.

“Didn’t we all conclude it was just a double suicide attempt by two stressed college students?”

“No, you guys did,” you say, turning back to the blog. You’ve still got twenty-three more entries to read. “I wasn’t even assigned to the case, so I never got a say in the manner.”

“So why now?” Heejun shifts his posture. “Why all this sudden interest? And why don’t you think it’s a suicide attempt?”

You turn back to him; it feels a bit awkward talking at a computer. “I was contacted by their best friend, you see. And, funny thing is, their best friend is actually my–oh, what is it? My sister’s cousin-in-law?” Heejun raises his brows skeptically. “Well anyways, we knew each other - kind of - and he insisted that Jimin and Taehyung’s case wasn’t just a suicide.’”

“Then what is it? An almost-successful double murder attempt?” He shoots you a look and you shrug, knowing that a double murder attempt on a college campus is significantly less likely—and plausible—than a double suicide attempt. Heejun crosses his arms.

“I mean, I guess, since besides suicide, there’s no other plausible reason as to why they were both found hanging from the ceiling fan… Thank god Yoongi–that’s their best friend’s name by the way–found them when he did, and the paramedics came when they did, because otherwise those boys would’ve been goners.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. They’re both unresponsive and in critical care. They might be still be goners after all.”

“Have some sensitivity,” you say, and chuck a book at him. He smirks as he straightens up, carefully running a hand through his perfect hair. Prick.

“But seriously, why is that Yoon–Yoonji, was it?–guy so adamant about it being a sort of murder attempt? I can see why the murderer would try to hang them, you know, as a way to fool others into thinking it was a suicide, but what’s the motive? And this was done in a college dorm. Did no one hear any shouting? The walls are pretty thin. The room didn’t seem to show any signs of a struggle, which is weird because this is two full grown men we’re talking about. Not little grade schoolers who will follow you around anywhere ‘long as you got KitKats.”

“KitKats are good,” you say defensively. “But yeah no—that’s what I don’t get either. Who’d want to kill two average, not-rich-but-not-poor college students? What’s there to gain? A higher ranking? A slightly quieter dorm? Was someone jealous that the two of them managed to score a suite? I don’t get it, and Yoongi didn’t have many ideas either, but he vehemently insisted that Jimin and Taehyung would never do that, and that they did not seem to exhibit any signs of depression.”

“And, despite the lack of evidence to back up the claims other than pure intuition, you believed him and are currently studying the case right now.”

“…Yes.”

“On your own free time.”

“…Yes.”

“Please tell me that at least that Yonghi guy or whatever is helping you.”

“Yoongi was actually planning on starting his own investigation, if I hadn’t agreed. So, yes.”

Heejun still continues to look at you judgmentally, so you turn away.

“Well,” he says. “Suit yourself. Don’t forget: we got another briefing at 1.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Friend opened a new shop !

“

So have any of you guys heard of Etsy? I actually didn’t know what it was until one of my friends opened up this like… shop on it. Or at least that’s how he describes it.

Anyways, I went on the website and it looks pretty cool. Kinda like a hipster E-bay and super (SUPER) artsy. My friend asked me to do a promo for him on here, so here it is:

https:/ /www .etsy .com/shop/JoonDaily

He likes to design his clothes and is practically a fashion snob in that respect, but his stuff (I hate to admit it) actually looks really nice… So y’all should go check it out!

”

3 comments

NamsgotJamz commented: Thanks for the shout-out, man. You’re a real homie.

Guest commented: hey guys this rly worx i just made $89./hr part time thanks to this check it out —> bit.ly/work@homescam

Pink_mario commented: what the fuck you never told me you were doing promos, hit me up too. I’ll give you cookies.

The web page buffers for a while before the “no connection” sign comes up. You sigh, tuck your phone back into your pocket. The speeding subway car careens through the tunnel, heading towards Yoongi’s dorm. You check the time—5:06. You’re running a bit late, no thanks to Heejun.

“...the next stop is…”

You get up.

“So?” you say. “Come up with any new ideas?”

Yoongi shrugs. He’s still moody as ever—but now there’s this unsettling darkness about him. Determination. Vengeance. Everything brewing just beneath the surface of his pale skin, his lips thinned into a harsh line.

“I visited their dorm yesterday,” he says.

“Oh? How?”

“Got a key.” He flashes it at you before pocketing it. “Tae used to forget his all the time, so I ended up with a copy. Got it illegally replicated, but that’s beside the point.”

“Not sure if you were supposed to tell that to a cop, but okay.”

He gives you a wry smile. “But right now I consider you my partner in crime.”

You shrug. “Sure.”

“Anyways,” he says, brushing past you and towards the door. “I think that, before I say anything, you should go take a look, too. I saw some pretty… interesting things in there.”

Your chest constricts.

What I do in my Downtime

“

A few of you guys have been asking about what I do in my freetime/downtime—especially since I keep on telling you all that I have so much more of it now that I’m in college.

Well, most of the time I just sit in my dorm and blog, or I’ll go and hang out with my friends. Or I’ll hit the gym.

Recently, though, I’ve been getting kinda nostalgic for the old days—like, the way old days—so I’ve been kinda playing a few childhood games like Smash and Mario Kart. I actually just downloaded this PC version of Pokemon Emerald from, quite frankly, a sketchy website. I don’t think I got any viruses or anything, though. Hopefully.

So. Anyways. I really encourage people to join clubs—I’m part of a few myself—because they give you a community, and they’re always doing fun stuff so you’re never bored. Don’t be like me, though. Actually attend the meetings and get involved. I mean, I do attend some and such, but like… it’s a lot better to be really involved in one club. That’s when things get super fun, because then you really connect with everyone over that one interest….

In the meantime, you can catch me catching ‘em all…. In Pokemon Emerald (I haven’t started it yet, been kinda busy. But I’ll begin it next week and maybe post about my progress on here?)!

”

2 comments

Guest commented: COME TO THE NEXT MODEL UN MEETING, SLACKER!!! We’ll kick you from the next conference otherwise >:(

jungl3-c00kie5 commented: wow college sounds lik so much fun. lmao nxt yr vs me in smash ill shcool u also how much can you benchpress jw

“Just before we go in,” you say, “I just wanted to let you know that I brought their file with me.”

Yoongi nods wordlessly and pushes the door open. “Okay.”

“And according to the file, Taehyung was genderfluid.”

“And?” The door squeaks open. Just as the files say, there appear to be no signs of a struggle; it’s disorderly, yes, but nothing seems to be… violently tossed about. No blood on the walls, or scuffs in the paint.

“He was struggling with his sexual identity and appeared to be having trouble coming to terms both with himself and his parents.”

Yoongi looks annoyed. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but he—he was making it, okay? He was doing well, and we were working on it, and he was slowly just getting his parents to understand.”

“And do you know if he ran into any...problems shortly before his suicide? His parents didn’t tell the cops anything of the sort—but maybe you know?”

“No,” he says bluntly. “I don’t know, but I doubt there wasn’t much of anything. Not when he had so much to live for.”

He leads you into their living room. There are no bodies, but the sense of horror is still in the room, lingering by the ceiling fan. Silently. You and Yoongi both know it and wordlessly move onto their shared bedroom.

“Yoongi,” you say, softly. His back faces you. “I know this might sound a bit… rude but… are you sure you aren’t in… denial?”

He flinches. His fists clench. You steel yourself. And then his fists unclench, and he takes a deep breath.

“Think what you want.”

You chew your bottom lip.

“Come on,” he says, jerking his chin over towards a desk. “I need to show you something.”

He heads over to a laptop, which sits open and blank. It’s been turned off. Yoongi slowly, deliberately pushes it aside, revealing a gray-black skid mark along the cream-colored wall.

“Here,” he says, pointing at the mark. “I was sent over here to help collect the valuables and have them shipped back to their families.”

You nod. “And so what’s so special about this mark?”

“It’s a long story, but in short, I’m 90% sure it’s from the laptop, which means that Jimin—that’s whose desk this is—must’ve like, pushed or thrown this thing against this wall to create such a mark. And like, he’s Jimin. He treasures his computer a lot. Hardly lets anyone touch it and is such a neat freak—like, look. He wipes his keyboard and screen daily. Not a speck of dust. Well, now there is, but before there wouldn’t be.”

Yoongi takes in a deep breath and you urge him to continue. “So he must’ve like, saw something or heard something frightening while on his computer… But I don’t know what. It must’ve been really scary, though.”

“Maybe he was watching horror movies? And this mark could’ve been there before either of them even moved into the apartment. Or it may have appeared during moving. How are you so sure?”

Yoongi shakes his head, slightly frustrated. “Jimin’s a wuss. He wouldn’t do that. And even if he did, he wouldn’t like, throw his computer. One time Jungkook pulled a scare prank on him, and all he did was scream at the screen and back away. This—it’s almost like….” Yoongi shakes his head. “It’s almost like he sensed danger from the computer itself.”

He pauses and meets your skeptical gaze. “Oookay. But that still doesn’t explain how you know that it came from the laptop, and was pretty recent.”

He shrugs. “I’ve done tests. I’ll submit them to you later.”

You narrow your eyes. “Sure, I’ll take a look at them.” You lean in, study the skid mark. Straighten up. “Okay,” you say. “So let’s just go along with this theory you’ve got here. Jimin sees something on his screen, sense his computer is a dangerous object, gets scared, throws and-or pushes it against the wall out of fright. What did he see? And what happens after that? Something crawls from the screen and hangs both him and his roommate?”

Yoongi sighs and deflates slightly. “It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

You say nothing.

“Hey, you know,” he says. “You said you brought the files, right? Mind if I take a look at them?”

“You’re technically not allowed to,” you reply. “But if it helps us both, then I don’t mind sharing information. You just need to ask for it specifically.”

“Fair enough.”

“He had a blog?”

“You know, for someone who claims to be his best friend, I’m very surprised to know that you didn’t know he had one,” you say. “I mean, so many of his other friends did.”

“I mean like, I did, but I thought it was just some kind of hipster-fluffy-animals Tumblr kind of blog, not like, a legit blog!” Yoongi sounds astounded. “Damn.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Hold up,” he says. “Let me—lemme check this out. How many entries have you read up to?”

“There’s only twenty-four. I’ve read through most of them. Want to look at the rest together? The ones at the beginning didn’t really say much at all.’

“Okay.”

He chuckles at the screen as it loads, comments how the layout is “so Jimin.” He visits the Etsy link, blanches, exits. Most of posts are, just as the file says, carefree and loose.

My new Addiction

“

Oh god, I think I’m addicted to Pokemon now. I’ve only just started Emerald and already I’ve got like, 10 hours on the game. Fuck. Thankfully midterms are over but still…

(I even got my roommate hooked LOL)

Anyways, since we’ve already played this game before, my roomie and I are having a race to see who can beat it the fastest. Loser has to do chores for a week and make food. I’ve invested so much money in repellant it’s ridiculous… but hopefully I’ll be able to make it to the Elite Four like, tomorrow. Maybe.

Oh—almost forgot. I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s a PC version and such, but this copy of the game has got some really cool (and slightly creepy) mods. And glitches. Like some of the music gets played backwards—especially Lavender Town’s. Man, that is creepy as fuck, lol. And what’s really cool, though, is that some of the people you fight against will have more than 6 pokemon. Like, there was this dude who had 10 magikarps LMFAO.

For any of you guys wanting to play this version (some of you have asked me for the download link and I’ll post that later) just know that sometimes Pokemon in your party will get swapped out/go missing… so always make sure to save!

”

2 comments

tea-HYUNG commented: wtf investing in repellant is such a good idea THANKS FOR THE IDEA MAN NOW GET READY FOR AN ASS WHOOPING TOMORROW BC GUESS WHOSE GOING TO BEAT HTE ELITE 4 B4 YOU?!!! Thaats rite me ho

jungl3-c00kie5 commented: lul kek

After that, the entries stop. There are no other updates after that date… And, with a twisting feeling in your gut, you note the post was made the day right before his death.

Yoongi knows it too, as his breathing stills for a second and he backs away slightly. “This—this is going to sound kind of crazy,” he says. “But do you think… the game… had anything to do with their deaths?”

“You think this is the thing that Jimin saw?”

“I—I don’t know!”

“It’s literally a rip-off Pokemon game. How… Would this kill them? In any way? And it’s two of them, mind you. Plus, to hang them…” You shake your head. “None of this is making sense. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at the ground.

“That brings me to another point, Yoongi.” He doesn’t respond, still lost in thought. You gently prod him on the shoulder.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?” He looks away but this time you know he’s listening.

You take in a breath. “How did you know to go to their place at half-past midnight?”

Jimin groans and cracks his neck, flexes his fingers, knocks back a Coke. The taste is getting a bit overly sweet and the fizz is practically gone from sitting out so long, but he drinks it anyway. Outside, the insistent pitter-patter of rainfall threatens to lull him to sleep but he resists, shifting his position. He’s finally made it to the Elite Four, and there’s no way he’s calling it quits now. Not when he’s so close, and when he knows that Taehyung’s also hard at work playing in the living room.

Ah, rivalry. Jimin tips back his near-empty Coke can, tosses it towards the trash can. He misses. Shrugs. He’ll clean that up later—right now, he’s got to focus on beating the game. His PC finally manages to load up the scene, and, unsurprisingly the music is backwards. He rolls his eyes and turns his volume way down; it’s past midnight and he’s really not in the mood for creepy glitches right now.

The battle begins. The first of the Elite Four sends out her Pokemon and the sound it makes is uncharacteristically loud—especially with his volume turned down so low—and strangely, vaguely reminds him of a twisted cry.

It’s hard, no doubt. His Pokemon are pitifully underleveled—a downside to avoiding all possible confrontation and rushing through the game—and he’s only got a few potions and full revives on hand.

“Come on,” Jimin says under his breath. “I need that critical hit—gimme that critical hit, you can do it, I believ—YES!” He jumps up in his seat, ecstatic.

When he gets to Lance, however, Jimin is more than irked. First of all, Lance isn’t supposed to be in this game; the Dragon-type specialist is supposed to be Drake. However, that’s not what’s bothering him—what’s really pissing him off is the fact that all six of the Pokemon in his party have been replaced with unknowns. His annoyance increases when he realizes the unknowns spell out “UR DEAD.”

Seriously? What kind of sick joke was this? This was probably one of those dumb glitches or mods—only this time it came at one of the worst times. He’s practically blanching at the thought of having to restart and fight the other Elites all over again—especially since the main reason why he’s made it so far is purely by chance. And an immense amount of luck.

“Of course I’m dead now,” Jimin hisses at the screen. “All I’ve got are unknowns! You can’t expect me to go into this fight and win, especially since I don’t have Rayquaza with me now…” He glowers angrily at the Pokemon.

Internally, Jimin fights a raging battle. To restart or not to restart? He chews the inside of his cheek.

“Fuck it, ‘m goin’ in.”

He’s probably going to have to restart the game anyway, so he may as well give it a go. Maybe he’ll luck out.

The battle begins, and the music changes.

Lance sends out his first Pokemon—except, to his pure, unadulterated horror, Jimin sees himself and Taehyung. Bloodied and lifeless. The sound the thing unleashes is eerily akin to screams of terror, shrieks of pain. A violent shudder runs down his spine and, throat dry and heart pounding, he shoves his laptop away from himself.

It makes a loud thump against the wall; the screen flickers. Jimin stands up, staring wide-eyed at the screen. When it flickers back again, the image of him and Taehyung is no longer there. In its place is Lance’s signature Dragonite. No blood, no shrieking noises. Just an orange, big-eyed dragon. Jimin blinks, slowly. Was he—was he imagining things?

In the next room he can hear Taehyung curse out loud. He’s fine. It’s okay. He was just seeing things; sleep deprivation does that to you. He knows—he read it in a psych textbook once. Shakily, Jimin sits back down in his chair, carefully drags his laptop towards him.

It’s just a game, he tells himself. And it’s in his computer. Like, what’s it going to do to him? Flash the Blue Screen of Death? He laughs nervously. It’s fine, he’ll be fine, he just needs to finish the game… And then he can go over and gloat to Taehyung and they can laugh about all the dumb glitches. Yeah—that’s right. That’s what’s going to happen.

Thirty minutes later, Jimin stretches back in his seat, a happy—albeit tired—grin on his face. The final Pokemon screeches in defeat before disappearing into the ground. He’s finally beaten the Elite Four—somehow.

With a jump in his step, he triumphantly skips—and almost trips over various objects—to the living room, where he knows Taehyung will be sitting on the couch, PC in his lap, still furiously battling the Elite Four. He’s practically giddy with the thought of getting to see the defeated, disbelieving look on his roommate’s face.

Jimin sucks in a deep breath, grasps the handle, and throws the door open.

“Hey Tae? Guess wha—oh...fuck.”

He stares, horrified, at the shadowy, limp, very Taehyung-shaped body that swings ominously from the ceiling fan.

And then when he feels the foreign touch of fingers—no, those are bones, he realizes—on his shoulder and the brush of a skull against his cheek, he knows that he’s next.

The rough squeeze of the noose and the sudden up-and-down drop from the ceiling fan cut off his screams before they can begin.

Darkness is all that’s left.

Yoongi’s silent for a moment. And then, quietly, without moving to catch your eye, “What does the file say?”

You flip it open. “It says that you were going to sleep at their place after coming back from a party. Both because of the proximity and to allow your own roommate some… privacy.”

You look up at him, raise a brow. “But was that all it? The timing is almost impeccable. The coroner said they’d only been strangled for a minute or two before you’d found them. Granted, the nooses weren’t the best, but still.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I mean, yeah, I was planning to crash at theirs after my roomie told me he was going to take some girl home, but I also felt this thing deep down telling me that something was really, really wrong. Call it a sixth sense or intuition or what—I just really felt a need to check on them.” He pauses, takes in a deep breath. “It sounds suspicious, I know. But just to be clear, I have an alibi.”

You nod. “I know. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so willing to help you.”

He swallows, then gestures at Jimin’s computer. “Um, so, about that game he was playing… He never got around to posting the download link, but I happen to know the password to his computer…”

“You’re planning to play that game?” You put a hand on your hip. “How do you know it’s still on there?”

“I don’t, but it won’t hurt to check.”

“So let me get this straight, Yoongi: you’re saying that this thing is the reason why your friends were found hanging from the ceiling fan? That this was the thing that nearly killed them?” You gesture at the computer.

He shrugs. “I mean, what else do we have?”

“That’s true, but…”

“All that’s left is to play and see. What’s there to lose?” Yoongi shakes the mouse and boots up the PC.

You roll your eyes. Whatever. “Who knows?”

Three hours later, and the two of you have yet to encounter any of the glitches that Jimin reported.

“That’s weird,” you say. “Could it be possible he may have been exaggerating them a bit…?”

Yoongi reaches back and scratches his head. “I don’t think so… But at the same time I can’t come up with any other reasonable explanation as to how this is so different…”

You shrug. “I don’t know—maybe giving all that suspense attracted more blog viewers. People do strange things to attract more views, you know. Just saying.”

Yoongi seems reluctant and lost. “Maybe there was something wrong with the wiring that would explain some of the sounds…” He continues to mutter to himself, checking the sides of the PC before picking it up entirely. “But how does the ethernet wire affect the speakers? Maybe I can take it over to the Geek Squad at Best Buy or something…”

You sigh, check the time. “It’s getting late, Yoongi. I’m sorry, but I think I need to go. If you want, we could schedule another meeting next week? I’ll see if I can pull any more information from the servers.”

He nods absentmindedly. “Same place, same time? Wait, no actually, can we do it a bit later? Like, is 7 okay? I know it’s going to be dark and all but…”

“Sure.”

The final Pokémon faints, fades away, before the triumphant, happy music comes in. You yawn, stretch back in the chair. Behind you, with his legs crossed and elbows propped on the armrests, Yoongi lounges in his seat, thinking.

“So I guess that confirms it.”

You blink at him. “Confirms what? That I suck at Pokemon? It’s not my fault that you’re so crap at levelling them up—the only one above level 20 is your starter! How the hell am I supposed to fight a team of level 25 Pokemon with this mess?”

“No, not that,” Yoongi says. “And by the way, I don’t normally do that. It’s only that way since I was just messing around—wasn’t taking the game all that seriously.”

“Oh.”

“But anyways, back to the point. I was playing this game on and off through the week, sometimes alone, other times with friends and… I noticed that… the glitches only happened when I was alone…” He looks down. “And…”

“And?”

“And at one point… when one of the guys sent out a Pokemon… I could’ve sworn for a second there that... Instead of a Pokemon, it was a picture of me… except, well, bloodied. Brutally.” Yoongi swallows. “But it quickly disappeared right after a friend of mine walked into the room… Everything went normally after that. But um, I’m really really sure I wasn’t imagining it. I think I’m probably going to post on the forums and see if anyone else experiences something similar… I tried searching for stuff and the original file of this game but not only was I unable to find it, but for some reason the file is locked. Encrypted. I can’t get to it without a password, and I have no idea what it could be. Fortunately, I have a few friends who are heavily involved in cyber, so after we finish examining this game, I was planning to call them and have them help me somehow upload the game onto an online download link so we as a community can post about our experiences and stuff. Y’know?”

He fiddles with his fingers. Your eyes narrow.

“Anyways,” he says, “We should probably finish up with this game anyways. You wanna continue playing or...”

When you don’t answer, he prods you on the shoulder. “Hello?”

“As I thought,” you say, “You’re too dangerous.”

He gives you a confused, slightly suspicious look. “What?” You whip your head around, get out of your seat.

“Nevermind that,” you say, and, quickly, before he can attempt anything, shove a cupcake-shaped stress reliever—it had been sitting on the desk—into his mouth and quickly straddle him, holding his wrists together in one hand with a vice-like grip. He makes incoherent noises as he attempts to fight you off.

“It’s too bad, Yoongi,” you say, as you fumble out the length of rope with your free hand. “If you hadn’t been so adamant about it all, we could’ve avoided this fate. But the thing is you didn’t—you continued to meddle and stick your nose into something that you shouldn’t have. And now, unfortunately, you are going to have to be—well, silenced.” His movements are getting more frantic now.

“Min Yoongi,” you continue, as you swiftly—or as quickly as you can manage with one hand—loop together a noose, “a college student overcome with grief upon losing his two closest friends. After countless hours of research that ultimately led to nothing, he succumbed and hung himself in the very room his late friends took their lives in. How unfortunate.”

You gently place the noose around his neck. He fights hard against you, hands desperately trying to pry themselves from your grip. You giggle.

“That’s not going to work, you see. The undead have much greater strength with the benefit of having no muscle to tire out.” As you speak, a beam of moonlight filters in through the window and reveals you for what you really are: the human skin and flesh disappears under the silvery rays, leaving nothing behind but knotted and rotting bones. A skeleton, with no fingerprints to leave behind or heart to feel emotions.

His struggles stop abruptly as fear overtakes his body. You give him a lopsided grin. “Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

Inside the University Hospital, on the fourth floor, two heart monitors beep. Their slow, mechanical sounds echo off of the walls, seeping through the cracks and diffusing in the stale air. The place smells of antiseptic.

The monitors continue to beep. In unison, the spacing between each sound growing longer and longer until finally, there’s one long, unfaltering beep that continues for nearly a minute.

And then there is nothing at all.

a/n: @goldfishh , after reading this: What The Fuck

helloooo i have a chem test in two days that i know nothing about it’s chill. so. many. projects. holy shit. and then exams starting next week fuuuun

anyways if you watched the video this was based off (it’s hilarious--it’s supposed to be a parody of bad creepypastas) then like. maybe the ending was kinda obvious lol

tbh if it was up to me (like if i weren’t trying to base it off the video) then the ending would have been much different. you, for one, would not have turned into a skeleton lmFAO

#btswriters #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #bts fanfiction #yoongi #bts #bts scenario #yoongi scenario #writing #drabble game 4 #not rly a drabble tho LOL #horror #college au #detective au

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