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scarletwinterxx · 3 years

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End to Start pt. 3 - Jaehyun AU

Hello lovelies! this part took awhile to write but she’s here, i hope you like it! I enjoy reading your feedbacks😊🤍

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

taglist: @the-universe-in-you-jjh @undevotedfangirl @dumplingley @halbae

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

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“But like how rich is he?”

“Rich enough to buy this building three four times over” you mumbled, not really paying much attention to Jungwoo and more on the cake you’re trying to decorate

“And you broke up with him? Wah noona” you looked over at him with a glare, signaling him to shut up.

It was the day after the gala, you were supposed to take the day off but you’d rather keep yourself busy than overthink at home. Thus why you’re here now at the cafe with a very nosy Jungwoo beside you with his 100 questions after finding out you dated the Jung Jaehyun.

“I’m three seconds away from kicking you out of this store permanently”

“That’s the third time I heard that, this month” he smiled at you, walking back to the kitchen to grab the other pastries to be displayed. It’s still pretty early and it’s the weekend so you don’t expect that many people right now.

“So is he the guy you dated when you were in college?”

“Yes”

“You didn’t say he owned a big company”

“Are we playing 20 questions right now? Go serve the customers” you pushed him to the side when you heard the bell right, going back to what you were doing and letting Jungwoo deal with it.

“Goodmorning, what can I get you today?”

“Two iced americano please”

Hold up, you know that voice. You don’t even have to look up to see who it was, “Is that all? Would you like to try some of our cakes and pastries? It’s good to pair with the coffee” Jungwoo said, still clueless about who he’s currently talking to

“Is that green tea with pistachio? I’ll take a slice of that” it just so happens it was the cake you were currently setting up.

“Sure thing, is that all?” After taking his order, the guy walked to a vacant table.

“Noona, should I set you up with that guy? He was looking at you, plus he looks handsome and rich”

“Jungwoo”

“Mhm?”

“Shut up”

You were preparing the order when the bell rang again, “Goodmorning, welcome to the cafe” Jungwoo greeted happily.

“Oh, looks like he’s with someone” that made you halt for a second but quickly shaking it away. Passing the tray over to Jungwoo, “Here, go serve this and please stop being nosy”.

Jaehyun wanted to visit the cafe for some time now, but he didn’t want it to seem like he’s stalking you. He already knew you know how to bake, your cookies were his favorite. You used to bake those for him after exams as a way to cheer him up.

He didn’t know the first time he’ll be visiting here is when he’s about to break-up with his current ‘girlfriend’, with you standing only a few meters away. But after last night’s gala, Chungha called him suddenly asking if they could talk.

“Here’s your order, is there anything else I could get you?” Jungwoo asked him and Chunga but the girl just shook her head with a smile, “Really? green tea cake? Your taste is so weird sometimes” she chuckled at the sight of cake on the table

“It’s one of the more unique flavors, we also have a chocolate one. It’s our bestseller” Jungwoo added, “Maybe later, thanks”

After Jungwoo walked away, the two were left alone to talk.

“Go on, just say it”

“You don’t have to act all tough all the time you know”

His eyes landing on hers, as if he was telling her to just get on with it. “We had a good run” she chuckled, “What will your parents say when the word gets out?” Jaehyun asked. He might seem like a cold guy but he does still have some empathy left in him,

“I’ll deal with it. Happiness comes at a price, it just took me this long to realize I’m willing to pay for it no matter what the cost. Maybe you should too”

Jaehyun can’t help but look over at you, you were having a conversation with the guy that took his order and was laughing at something he said. Jaehyun’s gaze made Chungha look over at the side too, in that moment she knew

“So that’s her?”

“No” he cleared his throat before drinking his coffee, “You know you can’t lie that good, not to me atleast. Or her it looks like. Word of advice though, if she’s worth it just do it”

You were doing your best to ignore the two people on the far side of your cafe, Jaehyun and the girl looked like they were having a very serious conversation. When the girl stood up you immediately busied yourself again, then someone was standing infront of the counter on the other side.

“I heard the chocolate cake is the best seller here” she said, her voice gentle and sweet. She seems like a lovely lady.

“Yea, and the chocolate chip cookies too. Would you like to try it?” you asked her with a smile of your own

“I’ll take both to go” you packed the treats yourself, passing it over to her as she hand you her payment

“Green tea cake, sounds different” she chuckled, looking at the cake with a single slice missing “Oh yea, I just like trying out flavors here and there”

“What are you talking about? You always make that, if you want to try something new, you can order that. We always have extra” Jungwoo butted in, “Will keep that in mind, my friend loves that flavor”

“Oh, friend” Jungwoo said then looking over at you, “Thanks by the way” the lady said then walked out the door.

“Friend” Jungwoo repeated with a wicked grin on

“Stop”

“But this is your chance at finally landing someone! Jihyo may be bad at setting you up maybe I can”

“No-”

“Let’s just try, see he’s walking over here”

“I said-” “Uh can I have this cake to go, please? I’ll also get the rest of it” Jaehyun said looking back and forth between you and Jungwoo

“Sure, would that be all?” you asked as if you didn’t know him

“Uhm so my boss here-” you elbowed him on the stomach, trying to stop him from continuing. “I’m here! Sorry I’m a bit late, class finished later than I thought” Sungchan announced as he enter the shop, making the three of you look over at the tall boy

“Oh, hyung what are you doing here?” he asked Jaehyun when he spotted him, “You two know each other?” Jungwoo asked from beside you

Then it clicked, you almost wanted to slap yourself. How can you be so stupid, you’re not sure.

“You’re related, how come I never put that together” you looked back and forth between the two

“You two know each other?” Sungchan asked back, “Something like that” Jaehyun mumbled. That made Jungwoo look over at you then Jaehyun then at you again, “Oh, Jung Sungchan. then you must be-”

After that stressful encounter, you chose to just call it an early day and leave the boys at the cafe. Jaehyun didn’t say much afterwards, just waited for his order then left with a few words said to his younger brother.

Add that to the list of things you were thinking about. After the gala yesterday, after seeing Jaehyun’s mom again you can’t help but overthink about things again. A big part of you itching to do what you’ve always been meaning to do, something you wish you never did.

Unable to stop yourself, you opened the door of your closet and rummaged through until you find the box stashed inside. Stuffing it in your bag before shruging your coat on, took your keys and drove off.

You've only been at their place once, that was the first and last time.

It’s what you see in movies, the typical huge mansion rich people have in movies. The Jungs were no exception, their home looked like something straight out of a magazine. Until now you feel like you shouldn’t be here.

Parking your car on the driveway, you walked towards the front door. Knocking twice and wait for someone to open the door, when it did it was just the person you wanted to see,

“Can we talk?”

Jaehyun didn’t expect the turn of events this day had, after finding out his youngest sibling works part time at your cafe ofcourse he had to know more. Telling Sungchan he’ll wait until his shift is over to drive him home.

“You didn’t tell me you work at the cafe”

“Why? would you stop me just like mom?” the younger one asked, he knew what his brother meant. With their mother there’s almost little to no room for freedom, their lives were planned out for them. As kids they were told what they should be when they grow up, expectations they had to meet, things they needed to accomplish.

“No, it’s close to my office. You could’ve just worked for me” he answered, the older brother tone gone

“Then what’s the point? Like I said, I wanted to atleast see the world on my own before mom and dad stops me. Or atleast until college” Sungchan mumbles

“If you don’t want to study the course mom and dad are making you study just tell me, I’ll help you”

“Why? They’ll just get mad at you too”

“Then they can be both mad at us, don’t make the same stupid mistakes I did. Don’t take too long to decide that this isn’t the life you don’t want to live. Just... just be you. If they won’t have that, then you’ll have me” he sincerely said, meaning every word he just said.

He wished he had someone to say that to him back then, in a way he did. You told him that.

Even if the world is against him, he’ll have your hand to hold on to.

“So, how did you know Y/N noona?”

“We went to same college” he answered, keeping it brief. After that Sungchan didn’t ask anymore questions. When they finally arrived at their home, there’s an unfamiliar car on the driveway. Assuming that it was one of their parent’s visitor,

“Are you staying the night?” Sungchan ask as they walk towards the house, “No, just came to talk to mom about something”

“Okay, well see you later” the two brothers went their own ways, Sungchan skipping up the stairs to his room while Jaehyun walk around the house looking for his mom.

What he didn’t expect was to see who she was talking to, they were at the foyer, sitting at opposite sides of the table.

“Even when I didn’t have anything to my name, I never touched a cent in that envelope. I’m ashamed I even took in the first place, that was my mistake. And I’m still paying for it until now, you got what you wanted. Jaehyun hates me”

You were talking about him with his mother?

What envelop were you talking about?

“Then why did you take it?”

“Because it was the only way you’ll stop, I thought if I took the money and disappeared you would atleast spare him, you’d let him live the way he wants to. I don’t care if he’s angry at me, he has every right to be” you answered, no sign of intimidation or fear in your voice.

But he does hear the pain, and he hated it.

“Your son is worth more than whatever you give me, that money is bitter reminder of my lowest point. But even then, I’d rather starve and have no roof over my head than spend a single cent you gave me. It’s up to you if you tell him what you did, I think we’re way past the point of going back anyways. He can’t even stand being in the same room as me. One way or another, you got what you wanted. All I want is my peace, I don’t want that with me anymore, I don’t want to keep that in the corner of my closet like the monster I’m too scared to face”

Jaehyun was trying to take all of your words in, struggling to process the truth he just accidently uncovered.

All those years he thought you left him because you didn’t love him was in fact not what really happened, His mother, surprisingly but not really, manipulated his life yet again.

“All of the money is still in there, I haven’t touched that since then. I was just waiting for the day I could finally give it back to you. I’m pretty sure you don’t need it, but neither do I” you said your final words then rose from your seat.

When you turned around to leave the place you didn’t expect to see the person standing by the door, a gasp leaving Mrs. Jung’s mouth

“Jaehyun” she said but his gaze was on you

You didn’t have to ask him, you already knew he heard it. How much? probably enough judging by the look on his face.

You looked at him with same intense stare, trying to say your apologies without saying anything at all. It feels like there’s this weight lifted off of you after you gave the envelope containing the money back to his mom. Like this time you can look him in the eyes without thinking about the money stashed away in your closet.

There are still questions floating in his mind, you could tell. But Jaehyun didn’t look as troubled as he should be, even with the overwhelming amount of questions in his head he knew this time it would be okay. You were the only answer he needed.

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thatoneraven · 4 years

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KINKTOBER DAY 10: Overstimulation

The Doctor x GN!Reader

Contains: dubcon, handjobs, blowjobs, non-consensual anal fingering, use of sex toy, and overstimulation

I’ve had this idea in my head for weeks, and I just had to get it out today. 3k words of self indulgent Doctor smut. If y’all want to take control of this bastard, this is the fic.

In the real world, you had been known for your ability to figure things out. You had a natural hunger for knowledge, and an insatiable need to put pieces together. When you were dragged into the fog, it seems that trait had followed you. Your unique ability to compile information on the killers had come in handy for survival tactics during trials. But lately, the itch in your brain had been craving more; craving something that little was known about. You wanted to discover more about the Entity. The survivors knew very little about the deity that controlled their lives, and you needed to know more about it. With the type of persistence known only to madmen, you set to unraveling the secrets of the Entity.

Turns out, the Entity is somewhat similar to you. It’s ever curious, constantly seeking new stimulation to dampen the boredom inside of it. Where you seek knowledge, it seeks the strange depths of human reactions. With this newfound information, you decide to do something just a tad bit insane. You’re going to manipulate the Entity and make a deal with it.

You’re absolutely fascinated by the killers of the realm. There’s so much to discover about them that it makes the hunger inside you feverish. While all of them manage to stir your mind, there is one that you will admit you’re obsessed with. The Doctor is constantly occupying your thoughts, making your brain twitch with the need to unravel him. Alongside the feral craving to know more about him, you can feel the familiar sensation of arousal mixing in. It wasn’t uncommon for your emotional signals to get mixed while you were on a feverish high, but this is new. You crave his body and his mind, you want to ruin his flesh as you discover more about him. It is in this line of thought that you decided what to discuss with the Entity.

With a deep breath, you let yourself slip into the dark fog. The sound of hissing embers follows you down as you fade in and out of consciousness. A familiar scratching makes itself home inside your skull, and you clench your jaw against the discomfort. “Entity, I’ve come to make a deal.” A flurry of clicks comes from around you.

“And what exactly do you propose?” Comes a multitude of voices, surrounding you like the fog you’re enveloped by.

“I know a way to entertain you. All I need is for you to restrain one of your killers, and I will show you a different way to sate your hunger.” The fog is silent around you, pausing in consideration before giving an interested click.

“Go on.”

“Herman Carter. I need you to restrain him so that I can safely interact with him. He’s never been broken down, yes? He’s one of your strongest killers. I want to unravel him. I’m sure the energy you can take from him when I finish with him will fill you up.”

The fog goes silent again, and you can feel the legs of the Entity moving around you, judging you. Finally, it speaks up.

“I will accept your offer. This better be worth my time.” With that, you’re swept into a different realm in a flurry of claws and embers.

You blink away the fog clinging to the edges of your mind as you awake to the faint cold of the institute. You recognize this area as one of the exam rooms due to the images taped on the walls. With a nervous chuckle, you look around the room, pausing when your eyes land on the chair in the middle. A very furious Herman is bound to the chair by the leather restraints and arms of the Entity. Your breath catches as you look him over, heat starting to flicker to life inside you. His head gear has been removed, allowing his face to express the vivid rage he’s feeling. Without the odd contraption manipulating his face, he’s somewhat handsome. “Entity! What is this?! Release me right fucking now!” His unhinged voice makes you shiver with perverse delight as you walk over to him and lean over him. “Relax. I made a deal with the Entity. You always get to experiment on survivors; I think it’s my turn to satisfy my curiosity. You’ve really captured my interest, and I want to explore you.” You smile at him before leaning back. He’s glaring at you, but his expression has loosened a bit and you can see a twinkle of interest in his eyes. “I am not some toy for you to test your hypotheses on. I am the doctor here, you are the patient. Cut the bullshit.” He hisses at you, his lips curling into a snarl. His muscles bulge dangerously under his skin, but the restraints don’t budge. “No bullshit Dr. Carter, just intellectual curiosity. You wouldn’t deny someone a chance to gather knowledge, would you? You know what it’s like to crave the power of knowledge, the way it consumes you. Indulge me a bit. The hunger is getting to me.” You grab his chin and tilt his face up. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, brows raised high. His lips twitch, and he suddenly bursts out laughing, head falling forward as he’s consumed by his amusement. In between breaths, he manages to stutter out some words. “Oh! Oh my god- I haven’t been this- this interested- In so long! You really know- how to spark someone’s curiosity! Oh dear- You are such a strange survivor! You know what- go on. You can try to analyze me, but only under one condition. When you’re done playing make believe, it’s my turn to experiment on you, yes?” He bares his teeth at you in a malicious grin, eyes sparkling with glee as he fights to get his breathing under control. You smile at him deviously as your heart starts to race in your chest, lower stomach clenching with anticipation. “Sounds like a good time to me, Doc. Deal.” The Entity chitters with excitement inside your head as you lean forward to brush your hands over his chest. He’s giggling again, and you can feel his chest heaving under your palms. Trying to keep the giddy smile on your face under control, you drag your hands down to the belt around his waist and undo it, tossing it aside. Herman’s body is shaking with his laughter, and you look up at him and raise a brow. “Is something amusing. Doctor? Or are you laughing because you’re nervous? Never been the one under control.” He growls at you and pushes against his restraints as he glares at you. “Let’s get something straight, you little shit, you are not the one in control here. I cannot be controlled!” It’s your turn to laugh as you set to work on unbuttoning his coat. “Mhm, sure. We’ll see about that.” This time you can see a flash of nerves in his eyes before he steels himself and rolls his eyes. You hum in appreciation as you pull the coat away from his torso. Considering how built the rest of his body is, you shouldn’t be shocked at how prominently muscled his torso is. Unabashedly, you let out a whistle and run your hands over his chest. Herman laughs again, brows raising as he watches you. With an irritated quirk of your brow, you pinch his nipples and roll them between your fingers. He gasps, body arching into the touch. “You’re laughing an awful lot, Doctor. I’m starting to get tired of it. This is serious work here.” His body trembles as he laughs out loud. “Oh dear, I don’t think this is serious work. I think you’re just aroused and looking for an excuse to get some-“ You cut him off by wrapping your hand around his throat and lightly squeezing. “Herman Carter, you’re just asking for me to do worse things to you. Stop running your mouth, or I will fucking break you.” His throat bobs under your hand and he looks up at you with half lidded eyes, irises glowing dangerously. “Go on, break me. Everything you do to me will only result in me absolutely destroying you when it’s my turn. Punishment will be tenfold.” You snarl at him and squeeze his throat tight before releasing it and trailing your hands down his abdomen. The skin is rough to the touch, and two tubes run over the length of his stomach. You curiously run your hand over one, yelping as he releases electricity into your hand. The stimulation only proves to make you more aroused, and you have to bite back a moan as he does it again. He notices the way your thighs tense, and his lips quirk up as he stashes that info away for later. You lick your lips as you unbutton his pants, hands eager as you hook your fingers in his pants and boxers and pull them down. Your jaw drops at the sight before you. Even soft, he’s fucking massive. Your eyes flicker in disbelief between his cock and his eyes, which shine with unspoken amusement. He moves to speak, but you deliver a warning slap to his thigh. “Speak one more time, Herman Carter, and I swear to the Entity I will fucking kill you.” He chuckles, grinning down at you. “I sincerely doubt it, survivor.” You furrow your brows in irritation and drop down to bite his inner thigh hard. He sucks in a breath as his thighs tense against you. You chuckle as you pull away from him and stare up at him with a dangerous glint in your eyes. His eyes flash nervously again before he sneers at you and lifts his hips up. “Get on with it.” You smile and gently kiss the bite mark before turning your focus to his cock. “When will you learn that you’re not in charge here? I will go at my own pace, and you will take what I give you.” You run your fingers lightly over his thighs before wrapping your hands around his length. He lays heavy and hot in your palms, and you can feel the ridged surface of a tube running along the underside. You give it a couple of experimental jerks before leaning in to kiss the tip. His breath hitches in his chest as he watches you, hands itching to reach out and grab you. Your tongue peeks out, sliding over the slit as you welcome the head into your mouth. Herman shivers, a giggle rising in his chest as he realizes how long it has been since the last time he’d gotten a blowjob. You hollow your cheeks and suck on the tip before pulling off to trail kisses down the prominent vein on the side. His cock twitches, slowly coming to life under your touch. You run your tongue on the way back up before engulfing him in your mouth. He hisses, bucking his half hard cock into the heat around it. “Knew you were a desperate whore. You only came here for dick. Liar.” You run your teeth lightly over the sensitive skin as a warning and look up at him from under your lashes. He grits his teeth and lets his head roll back, keeping his mouth shut. While your mouth is busy, you quietly slip the bottle of lube the Entity had gifted to you not too long ago from your pocket. You slick up two of your fingers, humming in amusement when Herman perks up at the slick sound. “Are you touching yourself? Filthy-“ His words end in a confused yelp as he feels something wet prod at his entrance. “No- No you aren’t! Are you insane? You fucker-“ His body tenses as you slip the first finger in and curl it against his prostate with practiced ease. His cock jumps in your mouth, tiny electric shocks dancing along your tongue as he shouts. “God, you are so fucking dead when I’m free!” Ignoring his words, you rub your finger over his prostate, moaning when you hear him cry out. The depraved sound makes your stomach clench with the need for more. You slip the second finger in and massage his prostate as you relax your throat and take him as deep as you can. He throbs desperately against your tongue, letting out a string of moaned curses as you work him to the edge. You swallow around him before pulling back and bobbing along it with hollowed cheeks. Herman is biting his lip and watching you with furrowed brows. “Intellectual curiosity my ass.” You pop off and mumble ‘literally’ and he gives you a venomous look. “You knew you were going to do this, you sick fuck. I will tear you apart when I am set free.” You chuckle and thrust your fingers against his prostate, causing him to jerk against his restraints and groan. “I said I was going to break you, I didn’t say how. You agreed to this, and you can get your revenge later. It’s my turn.” He glares at you, but doesn’t reply as you take him in your mouth again. You roll your tongue over the tip, reveling in the salty taste of his precum. Your hips twitch, seeking stimulation as you take him in your throat and bob back to the tip again. You set a fast pace, eager to get to the fun part of your experiment. Just as you feel him about to cum, you pull off with a wet pop and slowly jerk him with your hand. Just enough to keep him close, but not enough to push him over. He growls dangerously and drops his head to look at you, muscles tense with the urge to pounce on you. “Get it over with already so I can meet my end of the deal.” You giggle and get up, getting nose to nose with him. “You seriously think I’m going to end this quickly? Oh babe, I’m not even close to being done with you.” You get off your knees and pull a vibrating egg from your other pocket, another gift from the Entity. Herman looks at the toy in confusion, eyes going blank when you turn it on. “And… What exactly are you going to do with that?” You simply offer him a shrug and grab the masking tape the Entity had so graciously given you. You place the egg on the underside of his head and tape it into place, grinning with anticipation. Stepping back, you turn it up three settings and watch as Herman groans and bucks his hips at the sensation. He growls, baring his teeth at you as he cums all over the floor. Through the aftershocks, he laughs and gives you a cocky grin. “Alright, you’re done. It’s my turn. I have some hypotheses that need testing, bitch.” You raise a brow at him and place your hand around his throat. “I’m not done. I didn’t come here for a one and done. I said I was going to break you, and I’m going to do just that.” With that, you crank the vibrating egg up to half speed, grinning maliciously as Herman’s body jolts. “Fuck! Wait-“ He laughs nervously, eyes going wide as the sensation quickly becomes overwhelming. His abdomen tightens, and his cock jumps and throbs as the pleasure overtakes him. “I-I’ve already orgasmed, what are you doing?” You give him a sickly sweet smile and lean in to nip at his lobe. “Breaking you. All part of the plan.” He lets out a shuddering whine as he feels his second orgasm approaching. You trail your lips down his neck and bite at the crook, sucking a bruise into the sensitive flesh. Herman shouts as his orgasm hits him like a truck, causing his hips to snap up into the air and splatter cum over your shirt. You bump up the vibrations two more notches, causing Herman to let out a stuttering wail. His cock is throbbing furiously, jumping steady with each pulse. Electricity crackles from the tube on the underside, uncontrollable in the throes of pleasure. He grits his teeth and tries to remain silent, but he can’t help the whine that slips out of him when you bump it up again. His body is starting to go numb with the white hot pleasure coursing through him, causing him to drool as his eyes roll back into his head. “Not so mouthy now, huh Herman? You were gonna call me a whore earlier, but I think that term suits you better right now.” He can’t think of something witty to reply, and his tongue is slack in his mouth, so he settles for groaning and glaring at you with teary eyes. You smile at the last bit of fight in him, eager to completely destroy it. With a downright maniacal laugh, you crank the vibrating egg up to full speed. Herman screams as his third orgasm whites out his vision, body thrashing as the painful pleasure rips through him. A pitiful drop of cum leaks from his swollen head, joining the rest of the mess on the floor. When the vibrations don’t stop, he starts crying, something you never thought you’d see him do. You turn the vibrations down a little bit, watching with a smug grin as he gasps for air and bucks against his restraints. “Fuck, please please please please turn it off. God, fuck, I can’t take it anymore. It hurts.” You pause for a second to think, eyes wandering over his completely wrecked expression. “I think you have one more in you.” You bump it up to full speed again, feeling your arousal reach its peak when he lets out a stuttering whimper similar to his stun sound. He sobs brokenly as he cums dry, cock throbbing and swollen between his thighs. Satisfied, you turn off the egg and give him a moment to breathe. When you think he’s calmed down enough, you gently remove the tape and egg from his cock, giggling when he whines and jolts away from your touch. “Now I’m done. Entity? Do your thing.” You turn away to disappear into the fog, the sounds of Herman’s screams following you into the dark.

#not sfw #dbd #dead by daylight #DBD Doctor #Herman Carter #smut #dbd smut #dead by daylight smut #Kinktober #Kinktober 2020

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

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Want. Yan Risotto x Reader [COMM]

You’ve never taken this long before.

Risotto is acutely aware of your everyday routine. Your shift at this cafe ends at 5:00 P.M., but you’ll chat with your coworkers for a few minutes afterwards. Then you’ll proceed to the staff room to retrieve your bag, check your phone, and leave through the back exit at around 5:10. When it’s a nice day out like this one, you’ll then walk home to your dingy apartment. However, if it’s raining, you’ll set up a carpool with a friend.

Expecting you to be exactly on time always is unreasonable, yet Risotto prefers to stick to what he knows. This isn’t a small, overlookable delay either. It requires further scrutiny.

He mulls over his options, all the possibilities that’d offer an explanation for this delay. Knowing that you’re still inside despite it being twenty minutes past the normal time for you to leave, he assumes something must’ve happened. Slipping out front isn’t a possibility either, he keeps watch there too. Calling your boss is a possibility, but a risky one at that.

Binetti’s voice always quivers in blatant anxiety, never brave (or foolish) enough to ask why exactly a member of Passione has taken such an extreme interest in his employee. Curiosity is still there, as is to be expected. Ultimately, Risotto doesn’t want the weak willed man to mess up his carefully crafted plans, by accidentally revealing something to you.

So that leaves learning the reason for your absence to his discretion.

Metallica gives him the ability to freely observe you to his heart’s content, but it doesn’t entirely erase him from existence. Under normal conditions he’d follow behind someone entering the cafe to avoid suspicion, since to anyone else, it’d appear as if a door was opening for no reason had he interacted with it. Dispelling the iron around him, he cautiously approaches the door that leads into the back of the building.

He’ll be able to use his Stand to hide his presence once he’s inside, but quietly opening the door will be the main hurdle. None of the windows are an option since they’re locked, and breaking them would be counterproductive to his plan. All of this trouble to ensure your safety. A few feet lay between him and his destination, his approach methodical.

Only for you to open it before he even gets the chance.

Headphones in your ears as they usually are, you’re too busy picking out a new song while humming to notice Risotto’s presence at first. When you finally sense a shadow looming, it catches your attention, earning a small gasp. Risotto’s expression betrays his conflicting inner feelings, a calm facade already set in place to avoid further suspicion. He’s aware of his frightening appearance, but other than your initial astonishment, you don’t seem concerned.

Tugging the headphone out of your ear, you look up at him curiously. “Oh, uh, hello. I’m not sure if you’re lost, but the door to get into the cafe is--” you pause, pointing towards the corner that leads to the street. “--that way. I can show you, if you like.”

Voice saccharine like sugar, he entertains the thought of how much better it’ll sound when you speak his name.

“I’m friends with the owner.” Risotto lies with practiced ease, his deep voice causing a shiver to travel down your spine. It’s a small experience, but it’s overwhelmingly thrilling to finally interact with the object of his affection. This isn’t what he planned originally, but Risotto is able to adapt in any situation without breaking a sweat.

Letting out a hum of understanding, you offer him a beaming smile as if he’s your longtime friend. Muscles going taut at the endearing sight, he closes his eyes momentarily to regain himself. It’s nonsensical, how his heart remains steady when he takes the lives of others, but you render him weak at the knees by simply fluttering your eyelashes. Despite the lack of control it brings, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t savor it.

Interaction with others is understandably limited for Risotto. He speaks with his squad, but tries to maintain a business-like relationship for their sake. It’s a lonely lifestyle, even if it’s what he chose for himself. The less traces of an assassin the better. It won’t always be this way, you filling the gaps in his heart he never knew existed. He just needs a little more time…

“I’m glad you’re here then. I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but Mr. Binetti has seemed on edge lately,” you sigh, crossing your arms with a worried frown. “Please cheer him up if you can, okay? He’s a bit of a skittish man, but he’s always been kind to me.”

The news doesn’t come as a surprise to Risotto. Binetti can hardly stop sweating when he comes to check in on you, ensuring that you’re being treated well and no coworkers are giving you any flack. Still, it’s a detail he isn’t willing to overlook. If Binetti mentioned something to you -- whether it’s on purpose or not -- it’ll make things more complicated than they need to be.

Wanting more information to be safe, he prompts you to speak further. “Oh? Really? Has he said anything to you?”

Risotto’s vermilion eyes admire how your soft lips move to the side while you think, how you place a delicate hand to your chin. He’s seen and memorized your usual body language, but being on the receiving end of it feels different. Surreal. Now he’s this close to you, able to take in every aspect that makes you unique. Not to mention hearing the small flairs of your accent seeping through, it’s all too precious.

“Now that you mention it…” you trail off, eyes narrowing as memories come flooding back. “He did say something out of the ordinary the other day. Kinda like, be wary of everything? I didn’t think much of it. Maybe he’s just been paranoid lately. There is a lot of criminal activity in this area at times… though it never seems to affect us directly.”

So his concerns weren’t unfounded. Your boss was attempting to signal you in his own, covert way. Irksome as it is, all problems have a solution.

Clasping your hands together, you attempt to alleviate his worries, still believing that Risotto is emotionally invested in this person’s well being. It doesn’t come as a shock. You may be naive, but you have a good, compassionate heart. It’s what drew Risotto to you initially, like a moth to a flame.

“I know it sounds ominous, but I’m sure it isn’t anything that bad. Don’t worry too much, okay?” you reassure, eyes softening with empathy. Risotto’s owl-like stare observes as you reach out to him, the height difference not stopping you. Placing a considerate hand to his shoulder, you give a comforting squeeze. “You have to think of your own well being too.”

From all the immoral things he’s done in his lifetime, does he really deserve this? To have your attention for this long, to feel your heavenly touch. He isn’t normally a sentimental person, however, your caring actions touch him deeply. But as sweet as this little interaction is, it isn’t enough to placate a deeper hunger within. To know what you’d be like as a lover, his lover. All attention directed at no one other than him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

His monotonous response doesn’t reflect overwhelming emotions within, all of his strength being used to keep his composure in front of you. How he desperately longs to take you with him. Your future shared bedroom is already waiting, he’s nothing if not prepared. Risotto amuses the thought, wondering if he should throw caution to the wind.

But it’s not the time for that. Not here, not now. Patience is a necessity in his field of work, and it applies here as well. There are still loose ends that need to be removed, more arrangements that need to be made. Seeing you in front of him, so tangible and real, reignites a fire beneath him. It won’t hurt to speed up the process a bit.

Looking down at the time on your phone, you let out a quiet curse at how late it is. He knows it’s unusual for you to not be home by now. Troublesome as it is, he won’t be able to watch over you while you walk back either, but he’ll know when you arrive home. The motion sensors ensure that.

“I’ve held you here long enough. Have a good day, alright?” you smile, placing your headphones back. He dismisses you with a nod of his head, eyes tracking your retreating form with interest. Heading off in the direction you normally do, you shoot him a final look. Giving a cheeky thumbs up and wave, you return on your way.

A light scent of coffee mixed with your normal perfume stays even when he can no longer see you. He makes a mental note to buy this perfume late, recalling how it typically sits on your bathroom sink; making it difficult to gain access to when you’re home.

There’ll be time to reflect on this pleasant experience, but for now, he has business to attend to. A talk with Binetti is in order.

So it’s leftovers from Tuesday tonight.

It’s disappointing, as watching you cook is always a sight to behold. From the way you carefully place uncooked pasta into a boiling pot so as not to burn yourself, or how you hum when chopping vegetables. It’s a domestic task, but one that Risotto has grown familiar to seeing. He hopes that you'll make dinner for him one day with the same enthusiasm. Take out and microwave meals just aren’t the same.

Seasoning your dish more to your liking, you stick it in the microwave with a satisfactory click. A low hum fills the cramped room, Risotto taking note of how you begin to sway in rhythm. He knows what that means, his heart fluttering in excitement for what’s to come.

Lips parting, the room is filled with your singing. A song he doesn’t recognize, but he’s never been musically inclined. Singing only for yourself, you get distracted in your song and forget what it was you were doing originally. Your voice is heavenly enough, but it transforms into something else entirely when you sing. There isn’t a satisfactory enough way to describe it, but he settles on the word stunning.

The lyrics of the song are in English, your native tongue. He only picks up a few common phrases, but your talent transcends language. It’s a special privilege to be able to see you like this, entirely vulnerable and acting as your true self. Where you can apologetically be who you are, unaware of Risotto’s looming presence. Many sleepless nights he closes his eyes, picturing your voice serenading him with loving lullabies.

How intimate. Beeping from the microwave causes you to jump, laughter soon following after. Risotto hasn’t ever tasted your cooking, but by how fast you consume it, assumes it must be good. Taking note of the time, he knows he’ll have to leave soon, a job needing his attention tonight. Wanting to spend more time in your presence is tempting, but work is work.

‘Another thirty minutes.’

When you’re relaxing from a day at work, you spend time on social media or your other hobbies. Interchanging between them until sleep takes ahold of you. In the winter, blankets are warmed in the dryer at night for extra warmth. It’s a small detail, significant all the same. Observation is a vital part of his occupation.

You’re not a target, in the traditional sense. A target of his affections, nothing purely malicious with killing intent. Methods from years of tracking and stalking for the purpose of murdering gave Risotto all the tools he needs to effectively keep watch over you. It was for peace of mind at first, but it evolved into something more. A calling to be the person closest to you. From the color of your toothbrush to the time you wake up in the morning, Risotto knows it all, which brings him pride.

This knowledge will help ease the transition, once Risotto kidnaps you. He isn’t delusional, he knows the sudden change in lifestyle will be jarring. There’ll be exchanges of cruel words, tears shed, and possibly blood spilled. That’s why extra care is put into the villa you’ll soon live in with him. He still needs to find your favorite perfume to put on your bedside table.

Placing dishes in the sink, you dry your hands before venturing to your tiny bathroom. Risotto hears water running, faucet squeaking in protest. Frowning, Risotto reassures himself. Where you will live in the future is what you truly deserve, not this dingy studio apartment. He helps himself to the crevices of your room, running his fingers over your discarded clothes with interest.

‘These colors, hm?’

Shirts and dresses consisting of your favorite color and patterns are gently caressed, mind wandering to what you look like when wearing them. Casual is the style you’re fond of, wanting to be comfortable outside of your usual work clothes. Moving on, he looks at your phone which you had flung onto your bed prior.

Shower still running, he swiftly checks the screen while he’s still able to. A few text messages from your friends, and some from your parents in English. Scrolling further, Risotto’s eyes narrow in concentration at a new name. Marco. The text itself can be interpreted in a variety of ways, Risotto’s mind favoring the unsavory ones.

From the lock screen, all he’s able to see an out of context message.

I hope you’ll see it my way.

What were the two of you talking about? It’s a risk to steal your phone now, not wanting to alert you to any foul play. If only Melone were here, he’s more skilled with electronics. It sounds like this individual wants something from you, but what exactly? Now that he thinks about it, Binetti had mentioned that this coworker of yours is what caused the hold up earlier. Though the fickle man insisted that he’s unsure what words were exchanged, swearing on his life.

‘How troublesome.’

If it weren’t for the looming assignment he has tonight, he’d personally give this Marco a visit. There’s always an option to ask one of the members of La Squadra to do it for him, but he prefers not to intertangle business and pleasure unless it’s unavoidable. Reading the text another time, he hears you turning the faucet off and knows his time is short.

Placing the phone back to its original spot with care, he reactivates Metallica and heads for an unlocked window. Venturing down the fire escape, Risotto considers what methods will be used on this unfortunate soul. Razors, perhaps? Or maybe scissors? Death from iron deficiency? He has time to give it some thought.

Finally gaining the opportunity to speak to you was a blessing, and a curse.

As if he had tasted the forbidden fruit, knowledge of how euphoric it is to experience your attention firsthand leaving him wanting more. Watching you from afar is no longer enough to satisfy his deepest yearnings. For months he could tolerate never exchange a single word with you, harrowing as it was. Not anymore.

Everything is falling into place as he pictured it. The house the two of you were to share together fit your image well, furnishings put in place with your taste in mind. A wardrobe of your current clothing set up, normal toiletries, and the like. Even little, thoughtful gifts that Melone showed him from your wishlists. No detail is overlooked, Risotto wanting nothing more than to please you.

All that’s missing is the most important centerpiece to tie it all together, you.

Stepping inside your workplace without using Metallica to conceal his presence, Risotto ignores the few stares that are shot his way. It’s par for the course, he’s well aware of his daunting appearance. Coffee and pastry aromas hit his nostrils, along with distant sounds of silverware clinking and muted chatter. People don’t stare at him for too long, whispers dying out after a few seconds.

He spots you speaking to a male customer, an incandescent smile on your face. His stomach churns as the customer returns your smile, firmly believing no one else deserves to witness such a beautiful sight. It feels like a knife being twisted in his gut, having to share you with the rest of the world.

Risotto isn’t sure what he’s doing here. Maybe it’s the anticipation for tonight, or the distaste his conversation with Marco instilled; that gave him the drive to speak to you in person again. This might be the last time for a while that you don’t perceive him as a monster, Risotto not looking forward to the inevitable animosity you’ll soon express.

“Oh, I remember you!” you exclaim as Risotto approaches the counter, eyes lighting up in recognition. Binetti took notice of him, pretending to occupy himself with cleaning a spotless coffee filter. Risotto notices how his hands shake, yesterday’s confrontation still in mind. Not that Binetti’s behavior around you will matter much longer.

“I guess I should ask for your order first. What can I get for you today?” you inquire, leaning forward with a spring in your step. Risotto glances over the menu, before settling on a simple drink.

“A small red eye,” he answers without further thought. Remembering that he’s talking to you, continues. “Please.”

Nodding your head with a concentrated look, you input his order before exchanging the required amount. Risotto shakes his head when you go to return his change, motioning towards the tip jar. Every concern in his mind melts away at the bright grin you flash him, gratefully tucking the extra money in with eager thanks.

You move with practiced grace, working the silver machines with ease. He hears you humming a song you’ve sung in the past, recognizing it after the first few notes. Deft fingers measuring the required amounts for his drink, you set to work with the press of a button.

After a few minutes, you hand over a steaming hot cup. Fingers lightly brushing over his own, his breath hitches. The first time you’ve ever touched him, and surely not the last.

“Is it alright if I go ahead and take my break now?” you call back to Binetti, who startles at the sudden sound of your voice. The middle aged man props his glasses up, eyes briefly flickering to Risotto’s imposing form before looking at you.

“O-of course. Take your time.”

Smoothing out your wrinkled apron, you walk over to Risotto who has taken a seat in the furthest corner of the store. “Mind if I hang out with you for a bit? My feet are killing me, and all the other seats are full.”

Risotto feels his body erupt in warmth, knowing that you actively sought him out. Even if it’s only because there are no other options, the means to an end don’t concern him. Not wanting to seem overly eager by responding right away, he pretends to consider your proposition despite having already known the answer.

“Help yourself.”

Taking another sip of his drink, the bitter flavor pacifies his dry mouth. Hot liquid running down his throat, he maintains a stoic expression in spite of his hammering heart. It could be pure luck that you came to sit here with him, or it could be fate. He’s grateful for it nonetheless.

Chair groaning against the floor, you smooth out your skirt once you take your seat; thinking of how to start conversation. “It’s amazing that you can drink coffee without any cream or sugar. I know I never could.”

Risotto’s lips quip upwards as he places the cup down onto the wooden table, well aware of your preference for sweets. “You get used to it.”

“That could be true. I’ve never been brave enough to try it more than once, so I wouldn’t know,” you respond, a light laugh leaving your lips. “I don’t normally have caffeine this late in the day. It would be too hard to sleep, ya know? There was this time I saw a special that was only lasting one more day, and I didn’t want to miss trying the drink. So, idiot that I was, I went ahead and ordered it despite it being six o’clock in the evening.”

Shaking your head with distant regret, you continue your story. “What a mistake that was! I was awake all night. My hands were so jittery I could’ve sworn they’d fall off. Not to mention I had a test the next morning… you know you messed up when you look out the window and the sun’s rising.”

If it were anyone else, Risotto would find this chatter bothersome and pointless. However, since it’s you, every word matters to him. Fully appreciating even the most benign things you have to say, Risotto closes his eyes in contentment. Casual conversation doesn’t come easily, contemplating what a satisfactory response would be.

“Was the drink good at the very least?” he wonders, watching as your jaw tightens and nose scrunches up.

“Not at all! It was six dollars though, so you bet I drank the entire thing like it was ambrosia from the gods. A few days later I even saw articles of people making fun of how bad the drink was. It looked appealing enough, bright colors and all. But the taste… way too sweet, way too syrupy. A crime to the tastebuds.”

“The person who invented it would’ve been locked away in the stocks if it were medieval times. Or is that the dark ages? One of the two. Anyways, if you ever see a bright purple and blue drink, run like your life depends on it.” you continue with apparent disdain, before snickering.

“I wouldn’t try a drink like that.” he answers honestly, preferring bitter coffee over sugary flavors.

“I wish I had thought the same. Would’ve saved me a lot of strife,” you sigh with exaggerated melancholy. “Enough about my myriad of dumb mistakes. How have you been lately? Mr. Binetti seems to be feeling better, so I think whatever you said to him cheered him up.”

‘I don’t believe cheered up is the term I’d use.’

Risotto drums his fingers against the table. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I feel so dumb,” you suddenly proclaim, lightly hitting your forehead. “I just realized! We’ve been talking all this time, and I never bothered introducing myself.”

Risotto points to your name tag with amusement. Looking down, you let out a quiet “ooh” at the sight. “How about you then? I don’t see any name tags on you.”

It can’t hurt to tell you his name now, it’s far too late for you to do anything if you even did discover who he is. Sitting there obliviously, you’re unaware of the web the stranger in front of you has tied you in.

“Risotto.”

Goosebumps dot his skin as you repeat his name back to him, rolling off your tongue beautifully. Nodding your head in approval, you’re completely ignorant of the effect you have on him. He lightly clears this throat in hopes of regaining control of himself, excitement budding.

“It’s a unique name,” you comment. “I like it though. My break’s just about ready to end, so I should get going. Thanks for letting me chat with you for a bit. You’re a good listener.”

Bidding one another goodbye, you return to your job with a renewed vigor. Risotto finishes his coffee, tossing the cup before leaving the cafe. Everything he’s worked hard for is within reach, a small bag of sleep medicine in his pocket. One more visit to your apartment to gather some more essential belongings, and then he only needs to wait.

Unknown to you, this’ll be the last shift you’ll ever work.

It’s pitch black.

Everything feels heavy, an imaginary weight on your chest that you’ve never experienced. Head throbbing violently, a displeased groan leaves your lips. Fatigue has set in to every corner of your body, all of your strength required for the measly action of lifting your head. Blinking rapidly, the blurry surroundings start to come into focus.

‘This... this isn’t my room? Where the hell am I?’

You’re set upon a canopy bed, curtains obscuring where the door must be. Panic begins to set in at the unknown surroundings, shooting up only to hear a metallic clink. Hissing at a pain on your wrist, you look to see that you’ve been handcuffed to the bedpost.

It feels as if your heart will burst from how rapidly it beats, adrenaline overtaking you. Thrashing in hopes of freeing yourself, it does nothing but irritate your skin. Swallowing doesn’t come easy, mouth too dry with primal fear to produce saliva. What options are there? You’ve been kidnapped, no doubt, but why? Money can’t be the motivation, you scrape by every month.

Neither do you belong to any important family, who could assist in bailing you out. The motivations are murky, not that it matters now. All that matters is finding a way out of this nightmare of a situation.

‘Think, [First], think!’

Calling help for help could be detrimental, who knows what your captor (or captors) might do once you’re awake. It’ll be wiser to utilize this time where you’re alone, hopefully gaining your freedom in the process. Who knows what demands could be made of you if you’re no longer alone.

Glancing down at your body, you check to make sure everything is in order. You’ve read news stories in the past of people who traffic organs -- could that be what this is? With your free hand, you pull up your shirt, letting out a sigh of relief at the lack of tampering. No stitches, no pain. At least that’s off the table.

All the pain you feel comes from your wrist, and your head. Maybe you were knocked out somehow, most likely drugs; the pain not severe enough to have been bludgeoning.

The handcuffs are the biggest issue here. It’s skin tight, leaving no room or hope of wiggling free. If you can find something to dislocate your wrist with, maybe it’ll allow you to pull free? Looking around further for anything that might be of assistance, you frown at the barren room.

Everything that could be of use to you is out of reach. Bed creaking underneath your weight as you shift forward, you curse silently. Was that loud enough to alert whoever is holding you captive? Staying perfectly still, you will yourself to silence your uneven breathing, listening closely for approaching footsteps.

Nothing.

A shiver goes down your spine as you return to your previous task. It doesn’t make sense, but you don’t feel like you’re alone. Someone is watching you, somewhere. It’s an uneasy feeling, not being able to see the furthest corners of the room due to how dark it is.

Looking to your left reveals windows that are barred off. This person thought of everything. The door that you can see most likely leads to the bathroom, so even if you get free that won’t be an option. Maybe locking yourself inside?

Frustration and lethargy mix together, taking any semblance of logical thinking from you. This is too much, the fear of the unknown plaguing you with unshakable anxiety. Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel tears escaping down your face.

Sniffling softly as you can, you all but jump when a glass is placed down next to you. Head snapping in the direction of the noise, you’re able to make out a liquid that looks like water just within your reach.

“W-who’s there,” you shakily demand, searching around the room once more. Nothing. “I don’t have anything. Please.”

“You must be thirsty. Drink.”

It’s a terribly deep voice, that’s obscured by darkness. Bringing with it a sense of familiarity, you feel as if you know this man. That you’ve spoken with him in the past, but who could it be? And what does he want?

Grabbing the glass, you carefully inspect the liquid. Your mouth does feel dry and achy, you’re too leery of the contents to trust it. What if it’s drugged? Grimacing, you throw the glass in the direction the voice last came from. It shatters against the wall from the force, not hitting your intended target.

Somewhere else in the room, you hear a disappointed sigh. “Already acting up?”

Lips twitching downward, you sneer at this derisive comment. What the hell was he expecting? For you to lap it up gratefully like a dog? No, whatever is going on -- you resolve yourself to be a pain in the ass. There’s no way you’ll roll over for this fucked up monster, doing as he pleases.

“I-I don’t know who you are, but the police are searching for me. I always text my friends at night, they’ll report me missing if I don’t!”

A single chuckle resonates throughout the room, coming from another direction yet again. How can you not hear any footsteps? Or even see a slight shadow of this person? The moonlight streaming in from the window should serve to give you some information, but it does nothing for you. The voice is not coming from a microphone either, being too clear for that.

“Who are you?”

It’s all you can bring yourself to ask at this point, throat constricting and head growing dizzier by the second. Adrenaline is starting to wear off, all your energy being dedicated to staying awake out of fear. You’re not expecting a response, but he gives you one after a few minutes.

“You’ll know soon enough. Sleep, I won’t harm you.” he tells you, voice commanding. It’ll be pointless to argue, as much as you want to. You need your strength back, whatever you ingested earlier still remaining strong in your body.

“Though you may not believe me... this is for the best, [First].”

#risotto #risotto x reader #risotto nero x reader #yandere risotto #yandere risotto nero #yandere risotto nero x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #Jojo Part 5 #JJBA #jjba part 5 #jjba imagine #yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years

Text

~Jungkook soulmate AU~

It’s that same dream again. You’re standing on stage in front of tens of thousands of people. They are all shouting your name, but you can’t hear whose name they are saying. You look to your left and can make out 6 other guys. One with light brown hair and dimples when he smiles. One with black hair who nearly falls off stage when he laughs. Another one with bright purple hair who’s laugh makes you feel warm inside. There’s a guy slightly taller than you next to you. His voice is quite deep but his eyes sparkle when he looks at the crowd. You look intently into his eyes, trying to see if you can see your reflection in them but it’s of no use. Your image is blurred out in them too. A smaller man with silver hair is talking now. His eyes remind you of a cat’s, but there is a softness in them when he is looking at the fans. And there’s the final member standing at the end, who’s smile looks like it could rival the sun’s. You have no idea who they are, every time a name is said the sound is muffled. You feel that fate is toying with you. Letting you see through the eyes of your soulmate, but not letting you hear the exact things that would make you able to find out who they are.

And just like every other dream you’ve had previously, right before your soulmate is about to introduce himself, you wake up, startled and covered in a cold sweat. You glance down and inspect your body, making sure it is yours you are back in. You sigh heavily and lay back down against the pillows glancing up at the ceiling. So far you knew very few things about your soulmate.

1. He was obviously in amazing shape. In one of your dreams one of the other guys had lifted your shirt up and the crowd went wild. You glanced down in curiosity and were pleasantly surprised by the amount of muscle that was on your body.

2. He was obviously a singer or performer of some sort. And was in a group with 6 other guys.

3. He was Korean. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying but you had googled a few words you thought you had heard and discovered that they were in Korean.

4. He was loved and adored by many. The group must be popular if they are performing on front of this many people.

5. Finding him was probably going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Googling the hair colors of the other members had yielded many search results. Apparently lots of idols had dyed their hair purple. And a few others had dimples as well. You weren’t able to fully see the other members. Most of their faces were blurred out except for the few features the dreams allowed you to see. These must be the ones that stood out to your soulmate the most, or that he particularly cherished about them. You were at least fairly confident that your soulmate was in a kpop group. A very popular one at that. But you could never tell what country they were touring in so you had no way of even narrowing it down by which city they were in.

Your phone alarm suddenly went off, signaling that it was time for you to get up and go to your office and meet with your publisher about the release date for your latest story. It was a tale of two soulmates, their only connection being through their dreams. And you gave the main characters a happy ending in hopes that it would allow fate to give you both the same kindness.

Jungkook woke up startled. He shot out of bed with his eyes wide and heart racing. He got out of bed in an attempt to ground himself. His feet touched the plush carpet of the hotel room. The feeling helped center him in reality. He walked towards the mirror and turned on the light, seeing his own reflection staring back at him was a comfort. He turned the handle on the faucet and let the water run until it was ice cold before splashing it on his face. When he glanced back up, his hyung was staring at him in the mirror.

“Did you have that dream again?”

“Yeah. Same one. Actually, well this time it was different. I don’t know it’s hard to explain. I finally got to meet her. Instead of the usual where it’s me trying to figure out clues on how to find her. But her face was blurred. I couldn’t make out any defining features. But goodness when I was finally able to hug her it was like every worry or concern I had just melted away. I really want to find her but I don’t know how and it’s so frustrating! I’m living out the main character’s lives in her novels and this one is literally our story. She gave them a happy ending, so I can only hope the same happens for us.” Jungkook’s voice cracks at the end and he’s immediately enveloped in a hug. “It’s so frustrating, Jimin. I have all these clues but no idea where to even go with this.”

“It’s okay, Jungkookie. I know you two will find each other some day. Soulmates always do. Let’s go over again when you know so far?”

“She writes novels. She lives in a big city somewhere. She speaks English. Normally the books she writes are fantasy ones but this one was realistic. I think it’s her way of helping me find her maybe? Like maybe if I look up the plot line of this next novel I can find her.”

“So start there then!”

“I know a lot of English now since I have been studying but I don’t know how to look up this plot line.”

“Maybe just look up new books about soulmates and dreams? See whichever article looks to be the most recent?”

“I’m sure many people have written about this before, hyung.”

“True. But your situation is unique. You’re famous. Surely she knows this from the dreams she’s probably had about being on stage from your point of view. You just need to find one with the plot centered around that.”

“That’s... actually a very good idea. Thank you, Jiminie.”

“Jiminie hyung to you. And you’re welcome! Now come on it’s still early. Go back to sleep for a little bit we have to prepare for the first date of our world tour tomorrow! We’re gonna have to be up in a couple hours.” Jungkook groans at this.

“How am I supposed to sleep when the possibility of me meeting my soulmate is so close?!”

“Just figure out a way. You can look for her tomorrow. Right now you need sleep. We don’t want you passing out on stage, so come on now!” Jimin shoves him out the door and Jungkook reluctantly crawls back into bed. Jimin walks to the door that connects their two rooms. “I’ll try to look for you tomorrow too when I have time, okay? That can be our focus after rehearsal is done.”

“Okay. Thank you, hyung.”

“Of course.”

Jimin shuts the door and all is quiet. Jungkook tries to sleep. Really he does. But really, he’s potentially one Internet search away from finding you.

Resist the temptation, Kook. You can do it. Be strong!

He rolls over onto his side and gazes out the window... Then promptly turns back around and grabs his phone off the hotel nightstand and does a quick search for the plot line of your book. An article comes up so he clicks on it. He sees that your book is being released in just a few short days! And as fate would have it, one of the signings just so happens to be in the same city as one of his concerts. It has to be you. There is no doubt in his mind. You have the same hair and build as the girl in his dream. He clicks play on a video where you are being interviewed about your own book.

“It’s actually my own story. Well, although mine isn’t finished yet. I see things that my soulmate does through my dreams. He is actually someone famous in a boy group. I know he’s Korean. But that’s about it. I’m hoping through this book he’ll be able to find me, since it’s our story...” You go on to talk more but Jungkook cannot hear it over the pounding heart beat in his own ears. It’s you! It’s really you! He shouts happily and begins flailing about in the bed when suddenly the door is swung open, and a very grumpy looking Jimin is standing in the doorway.

“Jungkook, what on earth-”

“I found her, hyung! Her name is y/n! Look!” He practically shoves the phone in his face and Jimin has to back away to let his eyes focus before they widen in shock.

“Oh my god! You really did! This is amazing! And look one of her book signings is the same day as our tour date! Kook! You’re going to meet your soulmate in just a few days!” Jimin tackles him onto the bed and rolls over next to him, looking fondly at the maknae as he’s endlessly scrolling through your social media, watching your interviews, and reading up on what he can about you.

“She’s beautiful, Jimin. And everything I could have imagined and more. Oh my goodness look at how many books she’s written she must be so smart and creative. And listen to her laugh!” He goes on like that absolutely gushing over you. “I’m going to message her.”

“No! Jungkook, don’t.”

“Why not? I’m positive it is her.”

“Don’t you think it’ll be more meaningful to have your first interaction be in person? You can just show up at her book sign and boom! There you go. Couple of the year. Couple of the century. I wonder what’s your couple name going to be.”

“Jimin you sound just as excited about this as me.”

“Because I am! Our little Jungkookie is finally going to meet his soulmate. But seriously now it’s time for bed. You gotta be up in 2 hours now so at least try to get some sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night, Kook. Sweet dreams.”

“Oh I have a feeling from now on they will be.”

**The day of the concert and book signing**

You’re on the way to your fan meeting when suddenly a billboard and flash of purple hair catches your eye.

BTS to perform at the stadium tonight at 7pm!

“Stadium? Wait a minute.. The purple hair.. the silver... His eyes. Oh my god!” You run up to the billboard to get a closer look but by the time you get closet it’s changed to a different advertisement. You sigh heavily, pulling out your phone ready to snap a photo the next time it scrolls by. When it does you take a photo and closely inspect it.

“Oh my god I am an idiot. How did I not notice this sooner! My soulmate is in BTS. Holy shit.” You gaze at all of their faces until you see one you’ve never seen any defining features of in your dreams. “That must be him. Jungkook? Oh he’s so cute oh my god.” You pull out your phone and lose yourself in the searches, watching interviews, looking at pictures, watching a music video. “They are so insanely talented it’s not fair and oh! Look at these photos of him when they debuted! What a little cutie I wanna squish his cheeks.” Your fawning is interrupted when a call comes in from your publisher. You glance at the time and realize you are late to your own book signing.

“Shit. I’m so sorry! I got side tracked but I am on my way!”

“You better hurry up y/n! There’s a ton of people here right now! What on earth were you doing?”

“I found my soulmate! Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry what? Did you say Jungkook, like BTS Jungkook?”

“Yes! Do you know them?”

“I’ve been a fan of theirs for years. I’m actually going to their show tonight. My friend bailed on me last minute so I have an extra ticket if you want to go with-”

“Yes! 100 times yes, please take me with you!”

“Ok ok! You can come with me just.. how are you planning on finding him?”

“....”

“Y/n? You still there?”

“Sorry. Just thinking. I didn’t plan that far ahead. They’re basically untouchable how on earth am I going to ever meet him?”

“Oh come on y/n. I’m sure fate wouldn’t be that cruel to you! Have a little faith.”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up. I think for now I will just be content with admiring him from afar. Anyway I gotta go. I’m approaching the building now. Bye.” You end the call and your heart sinks. You have no chance of meeting him. You’re from different countries. He’s in arguably the biggest band in the world. You probably can’t get within 10 feet of them without getting tackled to the ground by their security. And besides he’d probably just think you were some crazy delusional fan. You feel disappointment and sadness threatening to spill out as tears, but quickly shove it back down as you see the line of your own fans waiting to meet you. You plaster a smile on your face and enter through the back, sitting down at the table and just hoping this time will pass by quickly so you can go home and sulk before the concert.

As the line begins to dwindle you notice a gentleman at the very back of he line. He’s dressed rather casually, in sweat pants and a huge Carharttt t-shirt. You admire the tattoos on his arm and wonder what the meaning is behind them. He’s wearing a bucket hat and sunglasses, and a face mask, clearly not wanting to be noticed. Either that or he was an axe murderer come to make you face your doom. You laugh internally and quickly shake that thought away. You always did have an overactive imagination after all, you are a writer. When he finally approaches the table you can’t help but feel a weird fluttering in your stomach. Like your gut is trying to tell you something. You are uneasy and aren’t sure why. He seems to be feeling the same if the way he’s constantly looking over his shoulder around him is any indication.

“You’re not some serial killer here to make me meet my untimely demise are you?”

“W-what? No! What the hell? Why on earth would you think that?” You can’t help but find his accent adorable.

“Gee, I don’t know! Maybe because clearly you don’t want anyone to know your identity! Easy for a quick getaway if no one knows who you are. And you keep glancing around all suspicious to see if people are watching you.” You lift your eyebrow and give him an accusatory glare,

“If I didn’t want to be identified in a crime I would have covered my tattoos.” He lifts and eyebrow at you back, as if to challenge you further.

“That’s a fair point. You got me there.” He starts giggling and says something in Korean. Your heart goes flying into your throat as the realization hits you.

“I don’t want anyone to see me because I don’t want to get mobbed by my own fans. And I’m nervous because wow you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He lowers the mask for a second and you gasp audibly.

“It’s you! The guy from my dreams!”

“You use that line often?”

“Oh my god shut up. It’s really you?!” You stand up from the table and reach your hands across it, squishing his cheeks between your hands.

“What are you doing, weirdo?” You can barely make out what he’s saying as it’s muffled due to your playing and pinching his cheeks.

“Making sure you’re real and that I’m not dreaming again. How did you find me? How are you here right now, isn’t your show starting soon? Oh my publicist is gonna flip her shit when she sees you here-” He covers your mouth with his hand and tells you to shh, lifting his mask back up to cover his face.

“I said I didn’t want to be recognized remember?” Your eyes widen and you nod your head. He lowers his hand, and you can tell he’s smiling brightly at you by how his eyes are crinkling at the corners. “Hi. I’m Jungkook.” He holds his hand out and you smack it away, opting to run around the side of the table and throw your arms around him instead.

“I think we’re a little past handshakes.” His arms tighten around you and you rest your head against his chest, enjoying the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his chest against your ear. You sigh happily and feel a kiss pressed to the top of your head. You glance back up at him and see his mask is gone again. And he’s absolutely beaming at you.

“You have the most adorable smile I’ve ever seen.” You don’t mean to speak this out loud but figure you must have by the way his cheeks are flushing bright red.

“Um, T-thank you. I like yours too. And your eyes. And your voice and just... everything.” Now it’s your turn to blush. You glance away from him and notice that everyone has cleared out of the store, seemingly went about their business to give you two a moment of privacy. “So, I was wondering. Do you want to come to our show tonight?”

“Oh! My publicist actually already got us tickets!”

“But I’m sure they’re not front row, huh?”

“Well.. no they certainly aren’t but-” He pulls two tickets out of his jacket pocket and hands them to you. “Here. I look forward to seeing you tonight. I’ll put on an extra good performance just for you.” He winks and ruffles your hair playfully and a giggle bubbles out of you.

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“We’ll be there!” You hear her yell from somewhere in the the store. You both laugh at that and you notice him staring at your lips. He starts to move in before you give him a playful tap on the lips with your finger tips. He looks at you in surprise.

“You at least have to take me on a date first before you get to steal a kiss from me, Mr. Jeon. Just because you’re my soul mate doesn’t mean you get special privileges.” He smiles and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well.. how about after the concert then? We usually all go out for dinner anyway but we can go out just the two of us.”

“I would really like that.”

“Okay then. I’ll um.. see you in a few hours then?”

“Oh you’ll see me alright. And you’ll probably hear me too. I’ll be screaming my lungs out yelling your name.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to his lips as he kisses the back of it and holy- his lips are so soft it makes you nearly take back your words from just moments before, thinking about how they would feel on yours.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too. I’m looking forward to everything. Finally getting to know you, and talk to you, I want to know everything about what makes you the kind, sweet person you are.”

“We have time. All the time in the world.”

“I can’t think of any better way to spend it.”

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #reader x jungkook #bts soulmae au

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phantom-curve · 3 years

Text

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying. She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

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zosonils · 3 years

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surely post some autistic ferb things for us all,,,,,,

hell yeah anon!! here’s an absolute hell dump of Ferb Autism Indulgence Things because i have really been wanting to get my grubby little autistic hands all over him lately

his special interests are engineering and tetris [which is the game he’s internationally ranked in!]

he stims vocally by humming or repeating other vocalisations, but rarely with actual words

if he’s too nervous to vocalise/just not in the mood he goes for small hand movements to stim like clicking pens or tapping his fingers

he does flappy hands/arms when he has a lot of excitement to release! otherwise he prefers to stick to smaller/more subtle motions for a variety of reasons

he only repeats actual words as echolalia, almost always off of either phineas or perry! that thing they do where perry chatters and the boys mimic it and they all just loop off each other for a while is absolutely an echolalia loop for all of them [yes even the platypus]

a very epic headcanon i have is that owca agents are typically labelled as having therapy animal training to give them some more wiggle room with showing intelligence, so perry is officially a therapy platypus for the flynn-fletcher kids, especially the boys. ferb does the aforementioned echolalia chatter thing with perry and also just generally finds him extremely comforting to hold. of course perry’s figured out all of ferb and his siblings’ needs by observation and makes sure to subtly be as comforting as possible for his kids, especially if they’re having a meltdown and need to hold someone who won’t try to talk to them

ferb genuinely dislikes communicating verbally, due to a combination of general social anxiety, struggling to translate his thoughts into words, and finding it physically uncomfortable to talk. it’s not serious enough to prevent him from cracking a joke or vocalising his thoughts every once in a while, but he prefers to be nonverbal as much as possible and communicate through gestures and body language

throughout the series he only ever speaks on his own terms and as much as he’s comfortable with, so it comes out without issue, but if he’s forced to talk when he doesn’t want to or while he’s under stress he struggles to string sentences together and stutters really badly. fortunately he’s got nice friends and a great family so this issue rarely presents itself, although it comes up sometimes during the school year in battles with pissy neurotypical teachers over oral presentations

over time he starts to work past the discomfort [genuinely, it’s on his own terms as opposed to masking to get allistics off his back] so that by the time he’s an adult he can hold an entirely verbal conversation for a decent while before it drains him, but he still tends to avoid speaking if he can

phineas instinctively understands ferb’s silent emotional cues, a lot better than he understands most people’s [but that’s a whole other infodump lmao], and unless ferb actively indicates that he wants to talk for himself phineas usually speaks for both of them and translates any of ferb’s less neurotypically obvious signals

phineas and ferb made The Ultimate Fidget Cube as one of their daily projects [they were being mass produced for an hour or two and then something or other happened, there was a mobile phone and an avalanche of instant noodles, long story short only the handful they made for themselves and their friends are left now] and neither of them go anywhere without it

ferb doesn’t have any specific comfort/security objects but he feels significantly more at ease if he’s got some kind of tool in his hand or within reach [or, failing an actual building-stuff tool, anything he can hold and Do Something with, like a pen or his fidget cube or a video game controller], and is a lot more stimmy with his hands and generally anxious if he isn’t holding something

perry performs the task of comfort item better than any inanimate objects but platypi aren’t allowed to come to school even if they’re very polite :(

believe me the brothers have tested this numerous times

school is stressful for ferb because it fires up his sensory overload and is usually where he’s forced to do some neurotypical shit that upsets him, but his friends always have his back and linda and lawrence are definitely super involved in making sure their kids’ needs are met and respected by their teachers, so he manages pretty well unless something really bad happens to set him off

he’s susceptible to sensory overload, mostly with bright lights, sudden noises, and being touched. the light and sound involved in many of his and phineas’ projects is alright because he usually designed them and knows exactly when they’ll come on and what it’ll be like, but if he doesn’t have that prediction available he freaks out easily. being touched [especially without warning] is the absolute fucking worst and he almost invariably flips out if someone unfamiliar tries to touch him or he’s hit with an unexpected sensation he doesn’t like

he only rarely has meltdowns because he’s good at self-regulating when he needs to and his friends and family know what does and doesn’t fly with him, but when he does they’re often triggered by either sensory overload or being forced to talk

when ferb starts entering meltdown territory his verbal skills are the first thing to shut off, and if it gets worse he usually stops communicating altogether and enters a really bad dissociative state that he won’t come out of until he feels safe again and can be carefully brought back to his senses

standard procedure for ferb meltdowns is to get him a weighted blanket and some tea and a perry if you can find the slippery little bugger, let him snap back to reality at his own pace, and once he can communicate his needs again pay extra close attention to them until he calms down enough that he can properly self-regulate again

his favourite sensations are weight/pressure, the funky bumpy shit perry’s tail has going on, and anything soft!

most of his clothes [including his usual outfit in the show] are tight-fitting but made out of soft fabric for maximum comfy

the blanket on his bed is a weighted one, but if he’s too far from his room or it’s too hot to be comfortable under a blanket sometimes he’ll just find the tightest spot he can wedge himself into without getting hurt or stuck and squish himself in there to calm down a bit

his favourite food texture is crunchy stuff, and he samefoods with particular cereals and sandwich combos that rotate every few months when he finally gets tired of the exact same breakfast and lunch every day and wants slightly different identical meals

while he’s fine with variation from day to day, he’s very firmly attached to the summer/weekend formula of wake up > cereal > big idea > where’s perry > [building montage] > mom holy fuck > sandwich > [having fun montage] > our fuckoff massive contraption has vanished somehow > oh there you are perry > snacks > nondescript vibing > dinner > bed time, and if this schedule gets significantly thrown off it really bothers him

ferb shows his emotions more subtly than neurotypicals, which can make him seem hard to read, but his external emotional range is still extremely distinct - he just expresses it in atypical ways sometimes!

one of his most notable atypical emotional cues is that thing he does when he’s startled and he pulls his hands up - he does this in we call it maze when candace falls over on her skates in the beginning, split personality when busting candace scares him, lost in danville when he’s worried another capsule might fall on him or phineas, and the phineas and ferb effect during how do i do it when milo’s exercise bike crashes, just to name a few instances! this boy has Unique Emotional Cues and i love him for it so much

he’s better at reading emotions than phineas [as low as that bar is], but sometimes misses more subtle cues and doesn’t quite trust his ability to read anyone aside from phineas, candace, and his closest friends

he’s been aware that he’s neurodivergent ever since he was diagnosed as a little kid [he was first diagnosed with autism when he was extremely baby, not even three years old, and had it continually reconfirmed as he got older] and he’s been entirely happy with being autistic for as long as he’s known what that even means, with this only being reinforced as he found siblings and made friends with other autistic kids :)

good lord this is such an infodump i’m sorry i just love my son so very much and have been feeling particularly self indulgent today ;<;

#i've been on and off typing at this ask for like six hours help hsjnkdfnkj /lh #i love ferb so fucking much you guys have no idea #[diverges his neuro]#sonic forces me to answer questions #just fucking whatever #THIS post goes RIGHT in the infodump tag #long post #good lord i'm sorry lmao [except i'm not because talking about my comfort characters is awesome]#anon

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donghyuwus · 4 years

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Haechan | Trip to Trouble Pt.1

pairing: haechan x fem!reader

genre: thriller, mystery, adventure, action, drama, crime, fluff, angst and light smut (most of these will apear in future parts)

warnings: mention of alcohol addiction, blood, murder, guns and i know it is a sensitive topic right now but the y/n person is a cop, don’t worry i stand by acab (bastards not bad) but i just had to do it for this one to fit it in the story line

words: 2221

summary: this train ride usually consisted of the same people, same events and same routine. however this time it was different. you get the choice to do something that will affect one person on this train and won’t affect you, in return a whole load of cash? easy right. little did you know what you were getting yourself into.

disclaimer: english is not my first language so sorry for my spelling or grammar mistakes, i tried my best. + this is based on the movie the commuter :)

Chaos. People running in all sorts of directions, some on the phone, others looking over at the big digital screens in the air to see where there next train departs from. People of all sorts of ages. Young couples probably going on a romantic trip, students who need to get to their colleges, families with little children going on a nice trip or vacation and elders looking for some adventure in their old days. Your breathing was making an obnoxiously loud sound as you were almost running, hurrying to the perron your train was waiting for you. It was one of those days were you would leave for work on the other side of the city and would come back maybe a couple of weeks later. To be completely honest with yourself, you despised your job, everything about it made you mentally and physically sick. From the long travel, being away from home for such long hours ‘till the misogynistic men who would command you around and make sickening comments and jokes about ‘the females’. However you didn’t have much of a choice. Living alone with your mom who wasn’t in the right mental state to work and a little brother who is still too young to and is trying his hardest studying to achieve his dream to become a doctor, left you no other choice but to find the most high paying job you were able to get into.

That same job was the reason why you were hurrying as fast as you could right now, bumping into strangers here and there and mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ while pacing along. Only a few more steps. The staff member of the train was already putting the flute into his mouth, ready to signal that they would leave, when you passed him into the train. And there was the whistle. The doors closed and you went ahead and searched for your place in the train. Usually you would sit next to a window. That was one of the good things about this trip, the scenery you passed was absolutely gorgeous and a great distraction from your thoughts. Lucky for you there was still a two-seated place left. You sat yourself down on the ugly blue seating after placing your bag in the little storage above it. Already feeling hot because of the hurrying you took off your long brown jacket, one of the more fancy clothing pieces you owned and put it on the seat next to you. You weren’t expecting anyone to sit next to you anyways, nobody really ever did unless the train was really full. However today looked like a rather peaceful day for the ride to the other side.

Letting out a content sigh because you made it in time and you now had time to relax, you sat backwards and craned your neck to look at the other passengers, checking if the same people as normal were there. By now you took this train so many times you knew almost everybody’s name, where they got off and what their favourite lunch break was. The last part made you embarrassed. Let’s just say you liked watching people when you were bored, not in the creepy way of course. You just found them interesting, it always fascinated you how everyone truly has their own life and their own intentions, a family, jobs, beliefs and dreams. So today you started looking around again. On the left side of you, the other side of the ail, sat Lucy. A middle-aged woman, slick black hair, most of the times in a ponytail except if she was running late and in a rush. Usually she would be typing away on her laptop or she was on the phone with what you assumed her kids, since she always talked in such a loving and motherly way to the person on the other side of the line. Sitting in front of her was the elderly man you absolutely adored. You didn’t find out his name yet, but you found him a George so to you he was named George. George would mostly read some newspapers and play sudoku here and there. He loved his granola bars as he eats about 3 in only 1 hour. Honestly you were doubting if it was healthy, you should search that up later. Next to George was an elderly lady, you did know her name since she was quite the speaker and introduced herself sometime in the past to you and every train ride would have small talk with everyone she could. Her name was Lilith, the most loving lady you ever saw. You knew she was old because she had told you her age but honestly you couldn’t really tell, her beautiful black skin barely having wrinkles and her smile making her seem 20 years younger and let me tell you, she smiled a lot. She especially smiled a lot at George. Deep down you hoped they would end up together, you knew Lilith was single after all.

But the most interesting person was seated in front of you. Well not directly like George with Lucy, they were seated on a 4-seat area, you were on the 2-seat area. But he was though and he was facing your way. You could see him through the little line between the two seats in front of you, sitting at your left, the seat away from the window. He had dark brown hair, lighter brown highlights going through them, it would usually hang over his forehead and sometimes even over his eyes when he looked down. Speaking about eyes, he did look in your way a few times but usually you would look away real quick, embarrassed. The few seconds you did see his eyes though you noticed how interesting and beautiful of a shape they had and how childish they looked in a way. Usually he would either be playing a game on his phone or napping, which got him to miss his stop a few times. It would make a lot of curse words come out of him, which would make you giggle and make Lilith give the young boy a lesson about the meaning of curse words and how they are not the way to go. It was one of the only times you heard his voice. Except for the rare times he would have his earphones plugged in and he would quietly be seeing along to the lyrics of the song that he was listening to. The first time it happened it completely caught you off guard, it was rather quiet in the train, the only thing being heard was the typing of Lucy on her laptop and George and Lilith quietly whispering to each other while the rain was ticking against the windows. That’s when you heard the most unique and beautiful sounding voice sing along to a song you never heard of before but immediately googled as soon as you had access to Wi-Fi. You didn’t dare to look at him even once, afraid that if he would notice you were listening and he would stop. So you kept quiet, closed your eyes and laid your head against the window while his voice mixed in with the rain, soothing you and making you drift off into a slumber. That was the first time you missed your stop and was late for work.

Today he was back at playing his game, his tanned fingers clicking here and there, his hair covering his concentrated face while his tongue was sticking out of his mouth slightly. You were about to take off your jacket because you noticed how hot you were again, when you noticed you had already done that. That is.. strange. You shook the feeling off and decided to just stare out of the window, maybe that would cool you down. The sound of the door of the compartment opening and closing in the background as you looked at the outside world zooming by you, it was probably the conductor checking for tickets. You felt in your right pocket of your jeans to make sure your ticket was there and it was, so you got back to relaxing. The sound of heels ticking against the floor, it made you think of your mom when she would go out to a bar, already quite wasted before even leaving the house. A shiver went down your spine thinking about the memory. You despised the sound more than anything, so you couldn’t be happier when it had stopped.

‘Mind if I sit here?’ Startled you turned your head to look at the tall and stunning woman standing next to the seat your jacket was lying down on. She gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen except for Lilith’s and you couldn’t help but nod in confusion as you took the jacket of the stool and instead placed it on your lap. Quietly she sat down and it stayed quiet for a few more minutes. She probably just wanted some peace and quiet, that’s why she maybe came to this compartment. This was one of the more quiet ones, the others either consisted of business people or teenagers. So you decided to give her that peace and quiet and stared outside the window again. ‘My name is Savannah. Nice to meet you.’ Even more startled then the first time you turned around to look at her and the hand she extended for you to shake. Which you did, while greeting her back. ‘Nice to meet you Savannah, I’m Y/N.’ Again she smiled as brightly as ever. ‘So, what brings you on this train today, y/n?’ Her hand went through her short and curly, blonde hair. ‘Work.’ You smiled sadly. She noticed. ‘You don’t like your work?’ Were you really going to explain that to this stranger you just met? ‘Not really, long story. What about you? What brings you here?’ You decided to keep it simple and switch the spotlight on her. ‘Same as you.’ But she seemed happy saying it. ‘I work in a social and psychological field.’ She answered a question you never asked, however you still nodded, actually quite interested, there was something about this woman that you couldn’t place your finger on. ‘I study people and their behaviour. While doing that I mostly ask one question.’ A pause, her eyes piercing trough yours, like they were waiting on something. It was almost uncomfortable. ‘And that question is?’ You decided to ask so she continued on with her story. ‘What kind of person are you?’ Another nod from your side, this time more confused. Suddenly she scooted a little closer and looked out the window for a quick second before bringing her glance back to you. ‘Let’s do an experiment! Let’s say.. hypothetically I asked you to do something that affects someone in this train but doesn’t have any effect on you.’ ‘And what do I have to do?’ ‘It’s simple. There is a person on this train who doesn’t belong here and has something they shouldn’t have. They are carrying a bag, you don’t know what it looks like. The only thing you have to do is find them.’ Your confusion grew even bigger. ‘Why would I do that?’ A chuckle escaped her lips. ‘There is a reward in return.’ ‘What kind of reward?’ Her blue eyes scanned around the room, trying to find a person who heard you being a bit too loud while asking that question. After finding no one her face came even closer to yours. ‘In the bathroom in the second wagon is 75 thousand dollars. The money is yours if you do that one little thing.’ You blinked once, twice. ‘You said hypothetically.’ ‘One little thing, nothing more. You only have to find them.’ ‘Nothing more?’ ‘Nothing more.’ You bit your lip. Was this some sort of prank? A few minutes ago you didn’t even know of the existence of this woman and now she was offering you to find this person in exchange for so much money. If you had been in the right mind you would have said no to such a dumb offer, what were they going to do with that person either way and how would you even find them, would there even be money? But it still sounded attempting, very even. You could pay for your brothers college and maybe even move out with him, to a save and better place for him to grow up. You could maybe even find another job. Very tempting. You could just check the bathroom and see if she was right, if so you could just take the money and go and never come back and if she was lying you could just go on with your day and have a new experience with a crazy lady in your memory frame.

The speakers announced that it had arrived at one of the stops. Savannah got up. ‘Looks like it’s my stop. You have until the next stop to decide. Don’t tell anyone about this deal or there will be consequences.’ She walked off but halted before the doors of the compartment and turned around to ask you the question one more time.

‘What kind of person are you?’

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peaceinside · 3 years

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Spinning

I have never been a writer, I have always been a thinker. I think about things endlessly. All kinds of things. I never know where my brain is going to connect to something else. On my 30th birthday, in the midst of a long covid-19 inspired depression, my life seemed to click. 30 years of being a thinker, made me see that a lot of my thoughts are worth sharing. And even now after reading that sentence I start to wonder if people will think that sounds narcissistic. But aren’t all people who write just sharing their ideas? Mine are just rooted in my unique brand of thought. And my thoughts today are a reflection of 30 years of thought behind me. I thought maybe the ones that I’ve stitched together into a coherent string can be read by others who see reflections of themselves in me. Because I see struggle everywhere. Struggles I understand. Everyone has their own story, I have come to the conclusion that there are no “normal” people. And in 2021, I realize that only few are really happy. Everyone is plagued to some extent by internal struggles they refuse to share or receive help for. Help comes in all forms, I wonder if anybody might find these words and get help to look inside themselves for who they really are. Until people find peace within themselves we will never find peace elsewhere.

My thoughts today while driving home from having coffee at a friend’s house were inspired by such a small thing. But I have come to such a stage of thinking that other trains of thought are already well explored. This blends a few parts of my views on the world and things that have happened in my life. But they all came to me at once when watching my friend’s child play outside in the sun with his friends. His child broke from the group and came to talk to his father, and returned back to his friends. In the time he had left the group, his friends decided to start spinning. When was the last time you spun? Arms out on the grass under the spring sun? But when my friend’s son returned to the circle of friends, no explanation needed, he started spinning too. This is how kids play, this is how humans play. And we lose a lot of that when we get older. Or do were? I spin with friends all the time. I’ve had cigarette friends, cannabis friends, coffee friends, gambling friends, alcohol friends, and sex friends. Sharing in vices and activities and view points. When others are spinning, sometimes we don’t question it, we just shrug our shoulders and spin with them. That’s playing. And that’s part of being a human being.

I’ve always known that there were a lot of similarities between my brain and Karl’s, Karl was my big brother, who fought a fight his entire life. One with mental illness, one with addiction. And in 2018, he lost that fight and left my life forever after a drug overdose. That’s a story I’m sure I will get into in much more detail at some later time. Today’s thought was that I know there are similarities between myself and my brother. I don’t think we ever fully connected before he died. But I’m in tune enough with how my brain works to know that I suffer from forms of “mental illness”. Bi-polar disorders, manic depression run in the family. I don’t need to go to a doctor to know It didn’t skip me. My brother lived his struggle alone, like I would have. But I got to have the benefit of the endless warning signs he left behind him while paving a road to nowhere. That’s why there is a lot of my brother left in me, because through his life, he was able to show me that whatever our family has been plagued with genetically, is something I had to carry down a different path than he did. I don’t know all the things Karl struggled to cope with in his brain. But I have an idea of how he thought about them. It’s hard to talk about all of your sad thoughts, your complicated thoughts because we don’t live in a world that’s open to thoughts that are radically different. We call it illness. And I know that he got to the end of his road quicker than most because for a lot of it, he didn’t have the benefit of someone else’s road markers. Traveling an unlit road is scary and I understand how my brother would have been looking for anyone to help him navigate. And when he did have the benefit of co-pilots… His friends just spun a little faster than mine.

In a final desperate blaze my brother fizzled out like a road flare. A flare that was no longer asking for help, but a last signal for future travelers to turn around if they happen to find where he left his car at the end of a dark and lonely road. Shine on you crazy diamond. And thanks for all your help.

#addiction #mental illness #depression #new blog #thoughts #idontknowhowtousetagsyet #willanyoneevenseethis

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manifestationtips4you · 3 years

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5 Simple Ways to Change Your Life With The Law Of Attraction (Learn This)

Johanna, a college student from Kuala Lumpur, had been struggling to finish her studies.

She was living in a dorm with other students and had trouble making ends meet.

Johanna was on a scholarship which meant she needed to keep her grades high while working part-time to support her living expenses.

Strapped for time and resources, she barely got by and started feeling burnt out. If Johanna wasn't hitting the books, she was working.

Everything started to become a blur and she was losing motivation to keep going.

It got so bad that Johanna even thought about telling her parents she couldn't do it anymore and drop out of college.

But then a classmate from her philosophy class introduced her to the Law of Attraction.

Jacques, a foreign exchange student from Canada, had been reading up on it and applied it in his own life.

According to him, it had helped him manifest a solution to his own problems.

He had lived in an abusive home growing up, and Jacques learned how to shift his thinking and perspective to change his circumstances.

Johanna wasn't sure at first what to make of it, but she took Jacques's word for it and started applying its principles in her own life.

Click Here To Discover the Lazy Person's Secret To Get Everything You've Ever Wished For <= [Link this text via your affiliate link]

After she made a shift in her own mindset and attitude, Johanna started to experience some positive changes.

She eventually quit her part-time job and found another one with better pay and hours which helped with her living expenses.

It also helped free up her time, so she managed to study AND start a side income project selling items online.

Johanna ended up growing her side business so much that she got Jacques to help her manage it.

By the end of the academic year, she had turned into a completely different person.

Johanna was no longer a depressed, burned-out student from before. She had become a self-sufficient student and even made the dean's list!

The Power of Changing Your Focus

Sometimes, we get so discouraged that we feel powerless to change our situation.

Like Johanna, we fall into a FIXED mindset where we think things will stay the same and we can't do anything about it.

But the only way to break out of this negative spiral is by changing your INNER world.

This is the key to influencing your external world so you can move forward in life.

In a nutshell, the Law of Attraction is a way of living that requires you to change your frequency.

When you do this, the Universe will pick up your signal and your life will change for the better.

As for the frequency I mentioned, this is basically the vibration of energy that your mind gives off.

You can either operate at a high or low vibration, and each type will give you a specific result.

Most people don't realize they're giving off low-frequency energy, which is actually making their situation worse. Discover the Lazy Person's Secret To Get Everything You've Ever Wished For - CLICK HERE

The main problem is when you attach your emotions to your external circumstances.

For instance, it's easy to feel bad when you're broke. And naturally, it's just as easy feel the opposite if you had money in the bank.

Similarly, seeing other people in a happy, romantic relationship will make you bitter and angry if you're single.

And so on…

I'm not saying it's wrong to feel bad about things like that. However, you shouldn't use your circumstances (and how you FEEL about them) as an excuse to STOP trying.

People fail to realize that NOT doing anything about their situation will only make them feel WORSE. And this further traps them in a vicious cycle of negativity and inaction.

Thus, the Law of Attraction will help you install a more positive attitude in your consciousness.

This keeps your mind from being overrun by negativity - and more importantly, give you the leverage to BREAK FREE from your situation.

With some practice, your thoughts and actions will effortlessly work together to attract positive circumstances in your life.

But where should you start? Here are some ways to put the Law of Attraction into action and start creating massive changes:

#1: Share Your Gifts to the World

The Bible talks about the power of giving, and how it outweighs the benefits of getting.

But no matter what your faith or beliefs are, it helps to think of generosity on a LARGER SCALE.

Giving is more than just a virtue - it's a type of cosmic currency.

When you perform acts of kindness or share your resources for no other reason than WANTING TO, you're putting this currency into circulation.

And soon enough, this positive energy you send into the world - and the Universe as a whole - will find its way back to you.

You won't get it in the same form, but it will come around, one way or another.

I know that sometimes, giving feels like the LAST thing you want to do - especially when your own life is lacking in some capacity.

Why bother extending yourself when you've got enough to worry about for yourself?

But that's exactly the point.

Giving - even when you THINK you can't - will prove that this is a FALSE perception.

Let your acts of generosity serve as a reminder to everyone that in spite of everything, life IS and will ALWAYS be abundant.

Trust in the infinite energy of the Universe and tune into its unique frequency.

Your selflessness is the key to that. A generous attitude raises the quality of the vibrations you send out into the world.

Escaping the scarcity mindset and the fear of not having enough is one of the most liberating things you can do.

By doing so, you're FREE to improve the lives of others - and yours in the process.

Learn How To Use Destiny Tuning To Manifest The Life You Want - CLICK HERE

#2: Stop hanging out with losers

I don't mean to sound judgmental, but there are people in your life that will try to drag you down, whether they're aware of it or not.

You should avoid them at all costs.

People in a bad situation will try to feel better about themselves by spreading their toxic way of thinking to others.

They pull others down with their hurtful words, or convince them that they're not good enough.

Instead of doing something about their own situation, it's easier to go down this dark path and take everyone else with them.

And the Law of Attraction states that when you focus on something, the Universe will feed you more of the SAME.

So the good news is that you can choose to avoid this downward spiral and get on another path instead.

This is why you need to be careful about the company you keep. Choose the people that can share their constructive energy with you.

If their attitude, mindset and words lift you up, you know you're in the right place.

Their energy is contagious, and you'll naturally raise your own frequency and attract only good things in your life.

As for toxic people, I know there are times when you simply can't avoid them.

They could be family, friends, or co-workers - and you might be even living with some of them.

It's a challenge for sure, but do your best not to let their negative energy get to you.

You don't have to butt heads with them and simply respond with positivity.

If you're in a conversation with them, try to frame it in a healthy, positive way so you don't get sucked into their toxic field of gravity.

You don't have to change their mind; just take the “agree to disagree” route and leave it at that.

Who knows, your own energy might “rub off” on their consciousness. They might even think about what you told them and re-evaluate their own perspective.

#3: Get out from under the grind

We all have our lives to lead, and that means falling into a routine.

Now, don't get me wrong - having structure in your life is important and even necessary.

At a basic level, we need it to function on a daily basis. Incorporating helpful habits into your everyday routine is a GOOD thing.

However, there is a danger in being TOO embedded in it and shutting yourself off to trying NEW things.

Sticking too closely to your routine could make you afraid of the unfamiliar and uncomfortable - and hinder your GROWTH in the process.

So if you want to attract new and exciting things into your life, you should carve out some room for that.

Learn How To Use Destiny Tuning To Manifest The Life You Want - CLICK HERE

Doing things that help you grow ALWAYS has a place in a well-balanced life. A stable, healthy routine is the best way to avoid a soul-crushing existence.

What are the things that inspire you?

Outside of your usual chores and duties, what gives you a sense of fulfillment - even if it doesn't pay the bills?

People usually shoot down any desire for this because they're afraid they “don't have enough time.”

But you'll see just how flimsy that excuse is once you actually take the plunge and spend that time you didn't think you had.

In as little as half an hour, you could engage in a fulfilling pursuit. Find (or rekindle) a hobby, take up an online course or watch free videos.

Let it energize your senses, inspire you to greatness and empower you to create something wonderful in this world.

More than that, you can acquire knowledge to advance you in some way, like learning a skill, for example.

I recently came across a post on Twitter that made me smile.

It said: “There's too much free information online for y'all not be crushin it in whatever field.”

Use your precious time to invest in a better you and express yourself through your passions.

Don't worry about the “if”s and “how”s. Just get started with something now, and the rest of your life will adjust to it.

You won't know what new avenues will open up UNTIL you get the ball rolling,

#4: Quiet your mind

Meditation is one habit that goes very well with practicing the Law of Attraction.

When you learn how to control your thoughts (instead of the other way around), you're in the best position to manifest the things you want.

A lot of people find it challenging to keep their thoughts above water when they're flooded with negative emotions.

With meditation, you can take a step back and remove yourself from a situation in a healthy way.

There are books, free content online and mobile apps that can help you with this.

For instance, I just tried out the Insight app on my phone which is kind of like the YouTube equivalent for meditation.

Learn How To Use Destiny Tuning To Manifest The Life You Want - CLICK HERE

You can search by a specific person or channel, or even topics like easing anxiety, anger management, and so on.

This is a low-maintenance habit which will only take about 10-15 minutes daily. You could even spend five minutes if you're really strapped for time!

This basically works by sitting down on the floor (or a chair) and closing your eyes.

The idea is to take slow, measured breaths and pay attention to the physical sensations you're feeling at the moment.

Are your muscles tense? Is your heart beating quickly from the stress you're currently experiencing?

These are some of the things to be mindful of as you breathe in and out. If any other thoughts enter your mind, don't resist it.

Don't chase after them and just let it pass. Then you can go back to focusing on the rhythm of your breath.

Take this time to focus on the feelings of love, health, success and prosperity.

In other words, the things you want to ATTRACT.

Concentrate your attention on inhaling and exhaling. Once you've calmed your mind enough, you're ready to visualize the things you want to manifest in life.

This will have a powerful effect on your subconscious and put you on the path towards your goals.

And that brings us to the last life-changing habit…

#5: Affirmations

Muhammad Ali, one of the greatest boxers in history, was known for saying, “What you're thinking is what you're becoming.”

Indeed.

That attitude helped him become what he was, and it will serve you well, too.

Most of the time, people don't pay attention to the kind of thoughts they hold in their heads.

Left unchecked, they often feed into a toxic narrative they have about themselves without realizing it.

Like I said earlier, what you put in your subconscious affects you.

The things you tell yourself are like seeds you plant in your mind and they'll grow over time. Those same thoughts will express themselves in your actions and the choices you make.

So, you need to be careful which seeds you plant.

Joseph Murphy, author of the book, “The Power of the Subconscious Mind”, tells us that this part of your mind can't distinguish which thoughts are real or imagined.

As far as it's concerned, your subconscious will treat it as FACT whether it's happening in the physical world or NOT.

Thus, people don't just operate on these subconscious beliefs. Without being aware of it, they're turning their thoughts into reality.

And it WILL happen - one way or another.

The perception you have about yourself is largely influenced by the people you had around while growing up.

Their input - whether good or bad - left a mark on your subconscious that's hard to shake off.

And this programming kicks in whenever you make decisions and it dictates how you respond to tough times.

This inner dialogue can act as your inner voice of confidence and self-assurance…

…or as in most people's cases, it's the voice of fear and self-doubt.

You might think you're not good enough or smart enough because you couldn't stop the bad things from happening.

You curse yourself for messing things up, then blame it on some pre-assigned character defect.

Usually, it's in the form of labels like “Loser”, “Hopeless Case”, “Slacker”, “Weirdo” and so on.

But remember, these labels only have as much power over as you ALLOW it.

You can apply the Law of Attraction to change this inner chatter and rewire your mind for success instead.

It's impossible to attract wealth, abundance and happiness if you're focused on putting yourself down.

Learn How to Force the Universe to Manifest Your Dream Life - CLICK HERE

You can do the opposite by using encouraging statements that will empower you to take action.

Here are some examples to try during your meditation sessions:

Affirmations that span across time: Think about what's already happened, what's happening now, and what's yet to come. Then put it all together like this: “BEFORE, I was broke, miserable and hated the world. But I know better NOW and want to turn it around. Things are about to change, and SOON I'll be prosperous, happy and living my dream life.”

Affirmations that are crystal clear: Saying something like “I am loved” or “I am blessed” is a good start, but they're a bit vague. Try elaborating on these ideas and flesh them out even more. Then you'll end up with a statement like “I'm surrounded by people who love and support me. They help me grow as a person and want to see me succeed.” As for being blessed, you can say “I'm blessed with infinite opportunities and resources, and my life is full and abundant.”

Affirmations with an attitude: Another way to supercharge your subconscious is by being a little cheeky with your statements. When that voice of fear and insecurity kicks in, drown out the noise with, “Whatever, I'm amazing at everything I do. I fight like hell and do my best, and I can't hear what you're saying!” Adding some lighthearted humor amplifies your signal and makes it easier for the Universe to hear your thoughts. Try this the next time you're feeling especially down on yourself.

When you improve the quality of your thoughts, it's as if your circumstances will rearrange itself on their own.

These changes will seem to happen without doing much on your part. But the truth is that you're already doing the heavy lifting by disciplining your mind.

Starting today, you can apply these five tips I've just shared with you to create ripples of change in your life.

The more you practice them, the bigger waves will result from your efforts. I hope you make use of this knowledge and empower yourself for greatness.

Before I go, there's ONE MORE gift I'd like to share with you…

It's called the Manifestation Breakthrough Kit, and for a limited time I'm offering it totally FREE of charge.

You can combine this kit with the five tips you just learned to get even BETTER results.

learn how to FORCE the Universe to give you everything you've ever wanted…and MORE! - CLICK HERE

#manifestation #manifesting meaning #how to manifest #manifestingdreams #manifest #manifestanything #manifestingmoney #manifestyourlife #manifestingmindset

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mostweakhamlets · 4 years

Text

Untitled Sheep Project: Vegan Cheese and Wine

CW for mature, semi-explicit beginning. Nothing is described in detail, nothing is actually sexy, but stuff is happening.

This is an original story in project I’m working on. I’d love to hear any feedback or if anyone enjoys it! It was posted initially on my patreon where I’m gradually building this project up!

“We’re going to be late.”

“I know, my darling, but it ruins the mood when you keep saying it, and that’s just going to make us even more late.”

Cherry Bomb knew that when she focused too hard on maintaining her arousal, it made the whole situation that much less sexy. Once she felt herself start to lose it, she couldn’t force herself back into the proper mindset. She had to think about what was sexy about looking down at her bored partner propped up on pillows, doing the bare minimum to help her out.

And then her thoughts wandered to what she had to do after: laundry, shopping, meeting a client. In this case, she thought about how she had to shave her legs and how she should really try to put on a little makeup. Then, she thought about what her newest step-sister would look like, and while she had no hard feelings about the woman, she did feel a sense of competition whenever they were going to be in the same room.

She thought about Peggy’s usual well-lined lipstick and neat eye shadow. She owned expensive, luxury brand makeup from across the globe while Cherry Bomb bought most of her makeup at Boots and let it expire in her bathroom before she managed to use even half of it. If she were lucky, her mascara wouldn’t be dried up and clumpy yet.

“Fuck it.”

They lost it.

She climbed off and crawled off the side of the bed, picking her panties off the floor and pulling them back on for the walk to the bathroom. Richard lifted his hands in defeat and threw the sheets off himself.

“I’m glad we wasted our time with that,” he said.

“Don’t start with any of that,” Cherry Bomb mumbled. “Let’s just get ready.”

And half an hour later, when she heard the unmistakable sound of him jerking off in the shower as she left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, she said nothing.

—

Vegan cheese turned out to taste not much different than dairy cheese, but it was just different enough for Cherry Bomb. She sipped her Spanish rosado wine to wash away the taste of the fake ricotta, and then scraped her tongue on her back teeth to get the coating of sweetness off.

Perhaps if she had been to an actual cheese and wine tasting before, she would know what to compare the vegan option to. Perhaps if she had a more refined palette, she would be able to make better conversation about it.

Her father, meanwhile, spoke about his latest research with the colleagues they had met. They droned on about studies and their results and gave little teasers about what they were going to present.

“You know,” Richard said, keeping his voice low. “The bar has other drinks.”

Cherry Bomb looked over at the bar that stretched across the back corner of the room, partially hidden by the crowd. Servers were leaving with trays of wine and individual people were gathering for hard liquor breaks. She waited for a lull in discussion.

“We’re going to step out for a smoke,” she said.

“Neither of you smoke,” her father said.

“We’re hoping that someone out there might peer-pressure us into it.”

She grabbed Richard’s wrist and pulled him away as he explained that they were just looking for fresh air after their many glasses of wine.

With her generous glass of whiskey and his generous glass of tequila, they stepped outside onto the empty patio. Groups hovered around the garden, smoking and making conversation. Maybe even gossiping about those around them.

Cherry Bomb took a moment to admire Richard. He was in a jumper she insisted he wear because the dark red looked so nice against his complexion and hair. That and she believed that a pale top would be a bad idea for a wine tasting—just in case of accidents. She reached up to re-tuck his white collar into his jumper.

“Can we talk about earlier?” he asked.

Cherry Bomb shrugged and took a sip of her drink. The stinging oakiness to it was a welcomed change from the sweetness of the wines that still clung to her tongue. The flavors did mix horrifically for a moment, but the next sip was that of strong liquor only.

“What should we talk about?” she asked.

“I think it might be time we talk to someone—”

Cherry Bomb cringed. Sex therapy was never something she wanted. She had always associated it with other people—people who had run out of options and were unable to communicate anymore. They were the people her father studied and wrote books and essays on. They were the fake names that appeared in studies next to stories about their failing marriages and deep parental issues.

“I don’t think it’s come to that just yet,” she said. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time when there’s people who genuinely need that help. Besides, what are they going to tell us that we haven’t read on our own?”

“A lot.”

“I don’t think we need to resort to a therapist.”

“We’ve been having problems for nearly a year,” Richard whispered. “And it is multiple problems at this point. I’m keeping a list.”

“Then, let’s wait until it’s been a full year, okay? If February comes, and we’re still having problems, then I promise you that we can start looking for people. I’ll ask my dad if anyone he knows is taking new patients.”

“And that’s another thing we need to talk about. I don’t want your father involved in our sex life. If we do it, I don’t want him to know.”

“That’s reasonable, and I will respect your boundaries. We can Google it like other people.”

Richard smiled down at her. He looked far too sweet to deny anything. She wanted to cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss on the forehead, but she refrained.

Cherry Bomb watched the people around them. They all looked very posh with swanky dresses and suits and jewelry. But they also all looked the same, obsessed with being perceived as successful and upper class but not wanting to go too far as to look as if they were bragging. Though they definitely were bragging. The dress codes of the upper-middle class were all about being just relatable enough to people below them while also signaling to those above them that they had taste and money to spend as well. It was a balancing act in a circus of classism.

Cherry Bomb counted only a few women without dyed-brunette, chemically straightened up-dos and two men in blue suits that they were trying so hard to look casual in. They swung their drinks around and pursed their lips and rolled their eyes.

It was who her father had become. Obsessed with appearing not out-of-touch but then flipping a switch once he safely could complain about how much he lost to taxes that year and how his gardener did a poor job planting new bushes.

The patio door swung open. Cherry Bomb looked over her shoulder to see Peggy scan the room before spotting them. Cherry Bomb swallowed the rest of her drink, clearing her throat after.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to get away.” Peggy walked to their side. She smiled at Cherry Bomb. “Your father is a brilliant man, but I cannot, for the life of me, follow what they’re talking about.”

Her eyeliner was perfect. It was a nostalgic style—something that would have fit in in the 1990s and went around her entire eye—and it fit her well. Just like her lipstick and foundation and dress. She wasn’t attractive in the conventional way. Her nose was a bit wide, and her face was more square than most women would have liked theirs to be. But that made her all the more attractive, Cherry Bomb thought. It made her unique, and she seemed to know it judging by how she held herself with so much confidence.

Or maybe she believed that she didn’t need to be attractive. That for her, looks were truly superficial and she had found happiness in her work and personality and social life and it had all reflected back out to give her a clear complexion and a few beautiful, silver wisps of hair.

“Imagine being raised by him,” Cherry Bomb said. “My bedtime stories were about debunking the Oedipus complex—he wanted to start me off with the Introduction to Psych basics.”

Peggy laughed. Cherry Bomb laughed, too, only because the liquor and wine she had had were all catching up to her and making her head float above her shoulders. Laughing made sense to her. Richard pressed his hand into her waist, and it felt distant.

“I’m leaving in a few minutes,” Peggy continued. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Cherry Bomb leaned in for a half-hug and a cheek kiss she would never give anyone else.

Richard leaned in for an awkward hug. Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight, though it wasn’t reciprocated in the slightest. She hummed as she pulled away and smiled up at him, letting her hands rest on his shoulders.

Maybe Peggy wasn’t that great.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” she said.

She walked off the patio and back into the event room. Her heels clicked the entire way.

“That was a bit weird, wasn’t it?” Richard asked. “I didn’t imagine that?”

“No. No, it was weird.”

They looked through the glass doors, eyes on Peggy until she completely disappeared in the crowd. Maybe Cherry Bomb would keep her distance next time they met. Surely, Peggy would catch the hint.

“Do you want to leave and get chips?” Richard asked.

“Fuck, yes. Please.”

#untitled sheep project #original work #please lmk if anyone likes this #writblr

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omgviolette12 · 4 years

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Dark Morning

An AU Loki fic

Summary: Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

Chapters: 1/3

Pairing: Loki/Original Character

Words: 1767

Warning: Angst, Implied/Referenced cheating

A/N : A sad fic to match the gloomy, rainy weather rn. I love reading heartbreaking shit on occasion, so enjoy this two-shot of depression. Sorry not sorry. Inspired by @voila-tout‘s fic, “Little Do you Know”

—————————-

Lita could no longer feel her arms or legs.

Hours had passed since she stumbled into the house, lost and broken. It took tremendous effort just to remove her jacket wet from the rain, moving sluggishly to the large window inside their bedroom. She slumped downward slowly, perching on its edge.

How much time went by, she was unsure. Three hours? Five, perhaps? Judging from the darkening skies, she surmised that it’s been a while. She was starving, but no matter how hard she tried to move her limbs, her gaze remained transfixed to the streets below.

She hated it, the feeling of helplessness. The deafening silence and darkness of the room. It engulfed her, helping the horrid memories that she encountered hours before to replay inside her mind’s eye like a broken, filthy record.

Loki, her beautiful husband, making love to a woman that was not her.

Lita didn’t think she’d ever forget the way he gripped the flesh of the woman’s backside, his wedding ring glinting cruelly against her irises as he aided his lover into riding him. Was she so insignificant, a fleeting thought, that he didn’t even bother to remove it?

Her limbs tightened further at the thought. She wanted to cry and scream, do anything but just stare blankly into space. But her body refused to listen, as if it was turned to stone. Besides that, she was supposed to pick up their son. The daycare must be worried sick.

Perhaps…she was the problem. Surely she was. The burden of her growing sadness since the passing of her sister was too much for him to bear, so he needed a release.

She was always a helpless burden, when was she never? She was so surprised when he got down on his knees to propose to her, all those years ago. Someone so perfect, so good looking, treating a plain woman like herself with so much adoration she did not deserve.

Lita’s sex drive wasn’t particularly high, but she attempted to please him in whatever way she could. She loved him, so whenever they were intimate, she loved it as well. It was passionate, searing, and wonderful.

Eventually, they gave birth to a child. Loki loved the fact that their son had her eyes. He stated it made him all the more beautiful. That he couldn’t wait to have plenty more.

But judging from what she’d seen, his appetite was much larger, much darker than whatever she could offer.

Lita sourly regretted going to his office. She should’ve stayed home, to work on her manuscript. Then she would head out to the daycare, and watch her cute little son play for a bit. Live in her ignorant bubble. But no, she just had to make him lunch, didn’t she?

She never did something like that before in the years they’d been together because she was always busy, so she wanted to surprise him with something special. Lita had an inkling she’d been neglectful to his feelings for a while now, what with the stress of deadlines for her novel and her sick sister.

Janet, Lita’s now-deceased sister, was her only family left. So Loki was especially sympathetic. He didn’t even give an indication that her changing moods distressed him, reassuring her with the same glowing smile and attentiveness each and every time she felt low. And goodness were those times horrible. Even before she met Loki, she would have periods of overbearing sadness. It would hit her like a freight train. Unexpected, unsuspecting. She wouldn’t even wish it on her worst enemy.

So like the good wife she was, she decided to bring him lunch in order to show some appreciation. Loki loved her cooking, after all.

She should’ve found it strange when the secretary that was usually seated at the desk was nowhere to be found. She’d frequented his workplace in the past, and Loki kept his employees on a strict timetable. The tall, pretty woman should’ve been at the desk, her lunch break not for another half hour.

But Lita brushed it off. Whatever emergency that woman had was none of her business. Or so she thought.

It was like a blade had slashed her heart when she heard the sounds coming from her husband’s office. She stepped closer to the source of the sound, heart hammering. The door was left ajar.

“Sir, please…I’m yours,”

“Then ride me like the good girl I know you are. Then maybe, I’ll let you cum this time.”

“Yes… yes, please! I love it, I love your cock,”

“So fucking tight…”

Lita could’ve sworn she almost fainted right then and there.

She stumbled backward as if the wind had been knocked out of her by an invisible force.

The food she took time to prepare fell to the floor, the contents spilling from the box with a loud thump. But even with that, the pair within the room was absorbed in their own world, unhearing.

Her legs felt like lead. She made her way slowly towards the elevator, clicking the button to return to the ground floor.

From that moment onward, it was as if she was in a trance. The greetings from the employees that knew her fell on deaf ears as she made her exit, her movements slow and painful. She wanted to run, get away as fast as possible, but it was like walking against the unrelenting waves of the ocean.

Lita reached home eventually…and from that moment on, her body became a part of the windowsill.

Loki, and hopefully their son, should be home any minute now. Lita dreaded to see him. To see him smile, as if nothing was wrong. His touch. She’d much rather disappear.

Unfortunately, she was right. Lita heard the tell-tale beeping of the security code being entered, as heavy footsteps eventually came into earshot.

————————————————————

As soon as his meeting ended, Loki rushed out in a panic. Everyone in the meeting room could tell he was anxious for whatever reason, and he confirmed their suspicions when the normally calm, stoic boss was out the door in seconds, ending the meeting early.

He received a troubling call that his wife had yet to pick up their son. It made the knot in his throat worsen.

His anxiety began when his secretary - Clara, if he could recall her name correctly - made a strange inquiry as soon as she left his office, skirt ruffled from their weekly tryst.

Loki wasn’t sure when it started. Lita was a wonderful, beautiful woman. He loved her to hell and back, and that love only grew in their years together. She was passionate whenever they made love, and a caring mother to their son, a child he loved dearly. However…there were certain limits that she made clear she wouldn’t and couldn’t surpass, whether it was sexual or otherwise.

He never once blamed her, or judged her for it. Loki understood from the moment he fell for her, that some of his wants would never be fulfilled. He thought he could manage, that the love he had for her would be enough to curb his darker desires. But apparently, he was wrong.

Clara was like a flame, and he was the moth. Whatever Lita refused to do, Clara did it without hesitation. Did he love her? No, but she was addicting. Thrilling. Once the rush was there, it was hard to let go - despite the guilt that slowly ate away at his heart.

And that slow, burgeoning guilt and paranoia raised its head once more whenever Clara left his office.

“Huh? What is this?!”

He heard Clara’s startled voice from the door, and he made his way to her to see what was wrong.

Food was spilled all over the carpeted floor, the ornate box that housed its contents tipped to the side.

Loki’s heart plummeted. He recognized that lunchbox.

“Who would just come here and spill food all over?! Don’t worry sir, I’ll call the janitor-“

“Leave it.” His eyes were transfixed to the box, panic slowly overtaking his body. “…Oh? But-“

“Clara,”

He nearly hissed, his eyes cold and unfriendly, “ You have somewhere to be, do you not?”

Clara’s eyes widened at his tone, entirely different from the man she was with moments prior. She hurriedly scurried away when his expression grew more severe.

Loki was alone now, and he stared at the box. Perhaps it was a coincidence? The box wasn’t particularly unique, so surely it belonged to someone else. Lita had no reason to come all the way out to his building, especially when she was already so stressed. But the contents…they were all his favorite things to eat.

He took out the phone that was in his suit pocket, his hands trembling as he dialed Lita’s number.

Her soothing voice immediately entered his ears, meaning it had gone to voicemail.

Loki tried several more times, and the result was the same. This wasn’t an odd occurrence, actually. Whenever she concentrated on writing, she was practically deaf to the world. But this still unnerved him.

That was all he thought about as he begrudgingly went to his meeting. He could hardly focus as his employees spoke, running through all the possibilities as to why that lunch box was there. Did Lita ask someone to bring it up for her, and they were clumsy enough to spill it? Surely she would’ve cried and screamed at him, confronted him about his unfaithfulness if she came herself. Just imagining that scene tore at his heart.

His thoughts came to an abrupt end when his cell-phone interrupted the chatter in the room, and he hurriedly checked it. Was it Lita..?

No. Instead, it was the daycare company that took care of their son while they both worked. If they were calling him at this time, something must be wrong. He signaled for the people in the room to hush as he picked up the call.

“Hello, is this Mr. Laufeyson speaking?”

“…Yes, this is he.”

“Your wife was supposed to come for Uri over an hour ago, and she’s not answering our calls. Is it possible for you to pick him up at this time?”

And that was when he ended the meeting abruptly, rushing out the door.

He hurried home after picking up his son, Uri babbling nonsense in his safety seat at the back of the car. This was so unlike Lita, to leave their son for a prolonged period of time.

There was something wrong, and he hoped dearly that it wasn’t the reason he feared.

#loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki (marvel)

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wlw-in-space · 5 years

Note

Can you do one where little Luthor and baby Danvers are best friends but then gets kidnapped and Kara Alex and Lena needs to find them! Thank you! Love your stories

warnings: violence, kidnapping, blood

this one is really long -ah, i’m sorry

You woke up with a bag over your head and tied to a chair.

Panic set in immediately, but you took in what you could of your surroundings.

Someone’s forearm was touching yours, they were sitting beside you.

You could feel a bracelet on their wrist against your skin and immediately knew who it was, recognizing the uniqueness of the jewelry, “Lucie?” You whispered, trying to get your best friend’s attention.

“(Y/n/n)?” She responded quietly, seeming shocked.

“Yeah. Do you know where we are?” Your fingers tried to unknot the rope tied around your wrists.

“No idea, but my head hurts like a bitch,” She groaned softly.

“Mine too,” You grunted and moved your arms to the side to at least try to get her free if you couldn’t free yourself.

“Have you got a bag over your head too?” Lucie inquired as you tried getting her free.

“Yep, can’t see a thing,” Just then you remembered the watch Kara had given you and Lucie, and you mentally facepalmed for not remembering before.

“Lucie, press the button to call Ka - Supergirl,” You caught yourself. Lucie knew, obviously, but you didn’t know if anyone was listening to you guys or if you were being recorded, so you spoke very quietly.

“You’re a genius,” She smiled, even though you couldn’t see it and shuffled to reach your watch the best she could.

It took a good minute, but she was able to press it hard enough that you felt it click, before she closed it, not wanting to cause suspicious if your guys’ kidnappers saw it open.

Then you reached over and pressed the button on hers letting Kara know that the two of you were together.

“You know,” She began. “I’ve been kidnapped with a lot of people, but never with you.”

“We’ve both had our fare share of kidnappings, Lucie,” You chuckled.

The door opening in wherever you guys were made the two of you stop talking.

“Looks like you guys are finally up.” Hearing a voice you never wanted to hear again sent chills up your spine, and you knew damn well Lucie had the same reaction you did.

—

When Kara got both of the alerts seconds apart she knew you’d been kidnapped with Lucie.

She changed into her new Supergirl suit and flew to the DEO while dialing Lena’s number and quickly telling her, “Come to the DEO, (y/n) and Lucie are in trouble,” before hanging up and landing, looking for Alex as soon as her feet touched the ground.

“(Y/n/n) and Lucie both pressed their buttons, Al. They’re in trouble,” Kara was panting a bit from arriving so fast.

“I’ll find out where they are,” Alex’s face showed how panicked she was but she didn’t let that distract her as she pulled up a database on the computer that was tracking the few bracelets Kara had given out.

Brainy opted to help and ushered Alex out of the way.

Lena had arrived very quickly and ran up to Alex and Kara, “Where are they?”

“I’ve picked up a signal from their bracelets just give me three seconds.”

He zoomed in on where you and Lucie were being kept and immediately recognized it. “This is Lex’s old lab.”

“What?” Alex, Kara, and Lena all said in shock simultaneously.

“I said this -“

“No, I heard you,” Kara shook her head, clenching her fists and bouncing on her leg. “Alex, Alex, what do we do?”

“Stop talking,” Brainy quieted Kara, which was seemingly rude but no one cared when they realized why.

On the computer was an audio livestream coming from Lucie’s bracelet.

“A Super and a Luthor, once again,” Lex spoke with a smirk that no one needed to see to know it was there.

“Ever the poet, Lex,” You rolled your eyes. “You know I don’t have powers, why did you even kidnap us? We’re literally no use to you.”

“Are you really that stupid, (Y/n)? It’s -“ Lex was interrupted by you talking.

“Not as stupid as you are,” You said, earning a slap. The sound of it ringing through everyone’s ears as they listened.

“Lex!” Lucie spoke up, stopping him from doing anything else. “What is your problem?”

“The Danvers sisters are my problem,” Lex said with a sickeningly sweet tone for someone who had just slapped you.

“Okay, right, so I don’t mean to be annoying or anything, but they’re not dumb. They know you’re using us as a trap for them,” You deadpanned giving Lex a look, genuinely interested about what the hell he was planning on doing.

“I don’t intend to just hurt them, (Y/n). This is only to hurt you and your sisters. Lucie is just here to watch.”

“Lex, don’t,” Lucie’s voice broke.

“It’s fine,” You interrupted her. If this was going to happen, which you knew it was because your sisters were fast, but you knew they wouldn’t be here until after Lex had accomplished something, at least, so you were going to be an asshole to Lex. Maybe it would make you feel a little better.

“Bring it, Megamind,” You snickered, bracing yourself for the punch he was about to throw.

Brainy paused the live audio and looked up at everyone, “This is happening right now, if we hurry we can hopefully stop Lex before anything too bad happens to (Y/n).”

Lena stood beside Kara breathing heavily, in disbelief that Lex was back, slightly relieved that he didn’t intend on hurting Lucie but terrified fo you.

Alex and Kara were in tears, terrified about all the things that could happen to you.

J’onn and Winn had been listening but hadn’t started to engage in the conversation.

“Agent Danvers,” J’onn called, grabbing Alex’s attention. “I’ve called in a team for you and Supergirl. Go save our girls.”

Alex nodded and got her things but Lena took her arm, “I’m coming with you guys. I can help.”

Kara was about to protest but Alex interrupted her, “Lex doesn’t want to hurt her, Kara. She can go in while we’re fighting him and get them out. Go change, Lena.”

Lena left and returned five minutes later, and since everything was ready, everyone left, Kara flying off as fast as she could to reach you and Lucie.

—

Blood dripped down your chin, dripping onto your clothing. You looked like shit.

Lex had eventually grown bored of inflicting pain on you himself so he called in a few of his goons and separated you from Lucie so she was farther away and allowed them to have at you, punching, kicking, slapping, whatever they pleased.

It was getting really hard to breathe and see.

You were crying but made no noise, refusing to give Lex the satisfaction.

Lucie on the other hand was sobbing loudly, begging Lex to stop hurting you.

You stopped caring after a little bit, staying hopeful that your sisters would rescue you. Everything would be okay, and if you got lucky, you would pass out from the pain.

You winced when a gash opened on your forehead and kicked the man who’d given it to you right in the shin, knowing you were in deep shit anyways.

Luckily, he never had a chance to get back at you for it (although it was more: you getting back at him) because Supergirl came crashing through the glass windows and into the building.

Lex was smirking, and it was weird. He didn’t even care that he got caught. It was odd, but Kara didn’t care, punching him so hard that he flew up out of his chair.

His goons hurried over to Kara, preparing themselves to attempt to shoot her and punch her (stupidly).

Alex and her team busted through the doors right after and took out the goons as Lena snuck in and started to untie Lucie.

You caught Alex’s eye, and she immediately dropped her weapon, letting everyone else take care of Lex’s people (and himself) as she ran over to you with tears in her eyes.

“(Y/n/n),” Alex breathed, pullling a pocket knife out to cut off the ropes holding you down.

Lena and Lucie hurried over together and Alex finished getting you untied before picking you up in her arms, “You’re okay now. Lena and I are gonna fix you up.”

You nodded lazily against Alex’s chest, feeling yourself slip in and out of consciousness slowly.

When you, Alex, Lena, and Lucie made it outside, Alex set you down on the ground of the van, leaning you against the wall.

“Lucie, go get inside the car, please,” Lena said, kissing her on the forehead and watching her go inside the car right next to them.

Lucie was still watching everything they were doing, crying softly, feeling like it was all her fault.

She watched as J’onn pulled a bruised Lex out of the lab in handcuffs and as Kara flew over to you through the window. She opened it, to get a better look, her heart clenching as she saw you unconscious with blood dripping down your face and the amount of bruises you had developed.

Lex was loaded into a different DEO van (they’d taken three vehicles) and that one drove off with him and the team of agents.

J’onn joined Lucie in the car, giving her a tight hug, “She’s going to be okay. The Danvers siblings are very strong people.”

He drove away, leaving Alex, Kara, and Lena to take you back to the DEO. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew that Lucie was not in the mental condition to be able to see you hurt fo much longer and she needed to leave.

—

The girls had decided that Kara would drive the van. There wasn’t exactly much Alex and Lena could do in a moving vehicle to fix up your cuts and bruises anyways, but they did what they could, stopping the bleeding coming from your most recent gash in your forehead and stopping your nosebleed.

A few minutes from the DEO, you regained consciousness and held on to Alex tightly.

“Thank god you’re okay,” Alex exhaled, cradling you in her arms.

“Drink some water, honey,” Lena spoke, guiding a bottle of water to your lips.

You drank half of it at once, panting softly and tasting blood from your bottom lip as you did.

You offered Lena a lazy smile and settled yourself deeper into Alex’s lap, looking up at her tear-stained face, “Don’t cry, Al. I’m okay.”

“You are far from okay, bub,” Alex shook her head, her eyes watering once again, but you took her hand in your own and squeezed it tightly.

“I’m just fine. As long as I have you guys, I’m the strongest girl in the world, even stronger than Kara over there, but don’t tell her I said that,” Your antics made everyone chuckle softly, releasing a bit of the tension in the van.

“Where’s Lucie?” You asked, looking around as much as you could without causing yourself too much pain.

“She went with J’onn,” Lena said. “I could tell Lucie didn’t want to but it was tearing her up, seeing you like this. I’m really sorry -“

“No,” You shook your head, taking Lena’s hand with the hand not holding Alex’s. “Thank you. I would’ve done the same thing. She looked traumatized in there.”

Lena nodded and sighed softly as Kara pulled into the DEO and lept out of the car, picking you up in her arms and kissing the top of your head as she hurried inside.

Alex and Lena followed quickly in pursuit, right behind Kara as she took you to the med bay.

You saw a bunch of familiar faces as she carried you. Lucie’s first, to which you gave her a soft smile, reassuring her that you were totally fine. Then you saw J’onn, Winn, Brainy, Nia, James, even Maggie.

It seemed like they all knew what happened, since they were there, but they seemed shocked to see how battered you looked nonetheless.

Once you reached the med bay, you were placed on the bad and hooked up to a bunch of machines that you didn’t care enough to ask about.

You were able to remember to ask Lena and Alex not to give you anesthetics, knowing how embarrassing you got when you were under them.

Honestly, the pain couldn’t get worse so what did it matter.

Within the next hour, your cuts had been cleaned and stitched, including the one on your forehead to which Maggie said (she’d been in the room while Alex was stitching it for you), “Chicks dig scars, Danvers.”

Eventually someone had convinced Lucie to visit you.

She stood at the doorway, unsure of wether she should come in or not, “Hey.” You smiled.

She smiled back at you and went to sit down beside you, “I’m so glad you’re okay, (y/n/n).”

“Eh, I’m alive,” You smirked.

“You’ve got some nerve talking to Lex the way you did,” Lucie shook her head, slightly annoyed at how you aggravated him on purpose, knowing that you would only get hurt for it.

“Someone had to put him in his place. God, I wish everyone could’ve heard what I said to him,” You laughed, and it didn’t take anything other than hearing you laugh to get her to laugh.

“Well, I think you’re very brave,” Lucie chuckled, winking at you.

“Mhm,” You nodded. “And I’ve got a cool new scar to show for it too.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely worth it,” She said sarcastically, making the two of you laugh.

“C’mere,” You said, making grabby hands, and scooting as much as you could so Lucie could lay beside you.

She carefully got in, knowing better than to argue with you and pulled you close to her.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“What’s up?” You asked, drowsily.

“Thanks for being my best friend,” She smiled.

“Duh,” You chuckled. “I’d be so bored without you, dummy.”

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pyrewriter · 4 years

Text

Ascension

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Ogethres had declared both my brother and I Vandals, allowing us to skip the rank of Wretch which was something most Eliksni could only dream of. Our allotted ether would be more than doubled, allowing us to grow marginally larger but our strength and status within the guild would increase greatly. Vandals were the lowest rank Eliksni that were granted enough ether for their bodies to grow it's sub arms which allowed for a wide range of increased capabilities. I would not be growing a pair of sub arms however. After the declaration Ogethres and Pyrrhaks had asked that Brykis and I join them in the Arkon's chambers.

There was something in Ogethres's eyes "Ellrymksyt, Pyrrhaks and I think it time you are told something" he let out a somehow self ashamed clicking as he spoke. "Do know why you different from others?" he asked hesitantly.

"I am not of Eliksni blood" I started with a blunt chattering, earning myself a surprised look from both my uncle Ogethres and father Pyrrhaks. My brother Brykis put a hand on my shoulder as I continued, "Yet, I stand as Vandal, son of Barron, I earn rank with brother, like all Eliksni".

Pyrrhaks looked us over "How-" he began to ask.

"Sekos-4" I answered knowing what father would ask next, "Ogethres my Arkon, you allowed me, keep data that intrigued, but serve no purpose to guild. Some, visual, moving pictures, learned from and put together, always knew was different, surprised at first". My gaze fell to my hands, they had five protrusions instead of the three of other Eliksni though I bound them together to make them three. I did not have stumps where my sub arms would grow on other Eliksni though my equipment still bore apertures where they would grow. I looked to my brother and met his eyes ,all of them, and he gave a supportive nod. I turned to my uncle and father "Body human,but mind, heart, people, Eliksni" I stated with a proud trill.

Brykis pulled us shoulder to shoulder "Since Sprog, has been Brother, told first and helped come to terms, Brothers, nothing change that". My brother spoke only the truth, I had told him that I doubted I was Eliksni after looking more and more into otherwise useless data I had kept from expeditions. I had my suspicions at the time that our father and uncle knew but was too scared to ask such a thing. After a while the problem I had made for myself simply dissolved itself as none within the guild had shown any form of discontent toward me and it did not appear to be forced. With no logical reason for my mind to dwell on the matter it faded and I fully intended to live as any other Eliksni regardless of whether or not the matter came up.

Ogethres and Pyrrhaks were silent but they had a relieved and proud glow in their eyes, then ,for the first time in memory, they wrapped around us in an embrace. We stayed enthralled in the moment of that embrace for a long time, it felt like it was something that they had wanted to do for years and this was their way of making up for lost time. When they finally released us they regained their composure and our father spoke first, "There something else, want to tell, congratulatory honors". Pyrrhaks looked to our uncle and Arkon as though turning over his right to speak.

"As Arkon I grant special privilege, Brykis, Ellrimksyt, may forge own armor, use skills, craft master pieces, modify as you see fit" Ogethres told us. To be granted forge rights is an honor coveted by all but granted to only those who have proven themselves among the greatest the granting Arkon or Kell has seen. Brykis and myself bent the knee and bowed our heads, thanking him for being so gracious, though he was our uncle and Pyrrhaks our father they were still our superiors. Ogethres chittered in a chuckling manner, "Rise honored sons of Barron Pyrrhaks, go, craft that which you earn, return when complete, your ascension will be grand".My brother and I rose and bowed our heads once more before leaving the Arkon's chambers together. Before one was truly a Vandal they first had to molt and grow their sub arms then they would be fitted into their new gear.

Brykis was first and I stayed with him as he molted and grew which gave me time to think about my lack of sub arms. Molting was a lengthy, draining, and sometimes painful process if unassisted. As for my lack of extra arms it would be of no matter, trivial and not a factor from day to day and minor hindrance at the worst of times. I was next and though I did not molt like my brother I did go through immense pain as the increase in ether intake forced my body to grow at an accelerated rate. My bones grew first, I could feel them becoming denser while they expanded in length and width as they forced their way through obstructing muscle, stretching connective sinew. Said muscle grew quickly to compensate for my body's increasing skeletal structure but it could not quite match the rate which often resulted in tears. Were it not for the constant flow of ether to fuel these changes any Eliksni would die or at the very least lose consciousness but with the flow we remain conscious. All together it took both of us five days to achieve forms worthy of being called Vandals and another two days of rest before either of us could move.

When we could move and were able to use our new bodies we walked straight to the forges to begin our work. A Forge Captains greeted us "Brykis and Ellrimksyt, we were expecting, enter, you granted forge rights, we assist if needed" she explained as she guided us to what would be our work areas. She did not wear standard Captains attire, there was little plating, she had tools hanging from various sashes and belts, bandages covered her arms and legs. We bowed our heads in thanks, "No need for thanks, you two, done much for forge, you earn forge rights" she told us before bowing her head to us and returning to work.

The forges were sweltering, and rank with the thick choking fumes of smelting, the sound of hammers clanging followed by the gurgling of quenching surrounded us. Ogethres had warned us ahead of time and we had entered with only our leggings on but the heat as we worked was nonetheless immense. Most was as simple as making minor size or shape adjustments like the grieves, gauntlets, and pauldron but they still remained of Eliksni design. I was forced to forgo much of the standard Eliksni design as run of the mill Vandal equipment ,though reliable, would not fit a human properly. But I planned to use our forge rights to their fullest when creating my armor and helping Brykis with his.

Neither the standard House Dusk breastplate that rested on the shoulders nor the large cuisse that was bound to and protected the upper part of the legs were worth trying to modify. Instead I salvaged an old House Winter Vandal plate as it would offer greater protection and would be simpler to modify than starting from scratch. As for upper leg protection I created a short set of tassets rather than using a single large solid plate to grant me greater mobility without sacrificing protection. Brykis had run into the same similar problem of finding House Dusk armor lacking or uncomfortable early on as well. Because of this the two of us decided to create matching sets with the main difference ,for the sake of knowing who's set was who's, we used an old House King Vandal plate.

To forge, fit, and finalize our armor with the ether life support was time consuming but retrofitting the consolidated system into old housing was easy, though it left empty space. Rather than further modifying what we had we simply left them hollow, making our Vandal's plate lighter. It was not until we were satisfied with our work and the Forge Captains appraised and approved our work that we left the forges days later. "Work exquisite, master pieces two of a kind, will serve well, go now, will notify Arkon and your Captain" the same Forge Captain that greeted us said, shooing us out almost excited.

Naturally our new ,not to mention unique, equipment garnered stares from those around us as we made our way to the Arkon Chambers. Both our father and uncle met us half way and picked us up in an embrace as their greeting. "Brykis, Ellrimksyt, have not seen in days, heard finished, came to see, armor looks good" Ogethres chortled, giving us pats on the chest as he put us down. "Ready?" he asked with an anticipating tone, my brother and I looked to each other then to Pyrrhaks and finally Ogethres and nodded. With a wave of one of his sub arms he motioned for us all to follow. Together the four of us walked back to the Ceremony hall where our ascension to Vandals and Barron would be completed.

The sight of the guild Arkon moving outside of his chambers to anywhere other than his workshop was enough to signal anyone who saw to head for the ceremony hall. Usually word spread throughout the guild and within only a few minutes the guild would be gathered in the hall for whatever was happening. But it was a short distance from the forges to the hall so not many saw. "All, gather in Ceremony Hall, this day we honor newest Vandals and Barron" the voice of our uncle and Arkon resonated within the hall itself and undoubtedly through the guild. Minutes later the hall was once again packed wall to wall with everyone not out on mission.

The lights pinned into the walls faded until the hall was draped in darkness until ceremonial torches were lit, providing a dim glow. Servitors floated in from the entrance, their purple aura serving to further illuminate the hall and add the reflections off the armor of those below to create a dazzling display above. Then as the servitors hovered high Ogethres began the ceremony, "Today two become VANDAL, one becomes BARRON" he bellowed with pride. "Pyrrhaks my Barron, you bring greatness, your sons, Brykis, Ellrimksyt, bare armor made with forge rights, earned by your feats, become Vandals". At his words the servitors doting the ceiling moved aside to allow only one to float to us with a Captain's helm flanked by a Vandal's on each side caught in it's kinetic grasp.

Immediately I recognized the servitor, it was Sekos-4, there was no mistaking it and why would it be any other. As Sekos reached us we took the helms now ours, Pyrrhaks taking his first, then Brykis, then myself and together the three of us donned the helms that etch our ascension in history. Dregs, Wretches, Vandals, Captain, and Barrons threw their fists in the air with a thunderous roar of celebration. The Dregs, Wretches and a fair number of Vandals chanting "Ellrimksyt, Brykis" with revelry in their words. The rest chanted "Pyrrhaks, Barron of ace sons" to praise him for his accomplishments and those he had raised with him.

The celebration was tragically short lived however as every servitor snapped it's attention to the entrance to the ceremony hall. Their ominously aggressive noises indicated a proximity alarm had been tripped inside the compound.

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#destiny #eliksni #fallen #fanfic #eliksni fanfic #Ellrimksyt #Chapter 2

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dfel-exe · 5 years

Note

Hello, I have a huge soft spot for cute fictional teenage murderers, for example, Lawrence (dfel) and Jason Dean (Heathers). Only if you wouldn't mind, what do you think about writing a Lawrence X Reader where it is a Heathers AU where Lawrence takes the place of J.D. and the reader takes the place of Veronica? Omly if you want to, though.

BASED OFF OF THE MOVIE!!!

i apologize it took me so long to get to this, requestee. but, it’s here now! it may be a little messy, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! (there may be a few typos, as i said, this was 30 whole pages of editing. but i’ll probably find them sometime along the road! enjoy~)

this took a long time (7 hours in total, actually), but it was super fun! i avoided calling the three girls all by Scarlett to avoid confusion, as i know that wouldn’t have only confused me, but you guys as well. i tried my best to keep everybody as in character as possible, but Lawrence will probably seem really out of character here, as JD is a very unique character and i felt the need to keep Lawrence very similar to him. Sue will also seem very OOC near the end, but if you’ve watched the movie, you know why~

Love Story (Heathers!AU) - Lawrence x Reader

Word Count: 10,938

Warnings: death, mentions of suicide and eating disorders, vomit, swearing; lots and lots of dark humor

Key: Y/N - Your Name; E/C - Eye Color; H/C - Hair Color

Y/N’s diary writing and thoughts will be in italics

You let out a sigh of annoyance as you watched Scarlett and her minions trample the flowers in your yard, their croquet sticks dangling from their hands. You’d think after they buried you under the ground, they’d at least have the decency to respect your flowers. They walked up to the croquet balls, each of them having their corresponding color of red, yellow, and green. The one who wore yellow (who you liked to call Scarlett #2) had beautiful long, light brown hair, and gorgeous dark blue eyes. She positioned herself in front of the yellow ball, swinging the stick back to hit it. As soon as the ball and the stick connected, she let out a sigh at the unfortunate results of her hit.

“Damn. It’s your turn, Scarlett.” She looked back at the girl wearing red. Scarlett clicked her tongue and looked at Hailey.

“No, Hailey. It’s Sue’s turn,” she spat, her ruby red eyes narrowing. The two of them looked over to the third girl. She had a book in her hand, her mind far away from the game of croquet. Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Sue?”

The ravenette looked up, her glasses framing her large, brown eyes. She closed the book and looked down at her feet. “Sorry, Scarlett.”

You huffed at the interaction between the three.

Sue tossed the book to the ground, hastily getting in position to hit the ball. The ball neared your head, but rolled to a stop before any damage could be done. Scarlett was up next, a smirk crossing her face as she bent down to pick up the red ball. The smirk didn’t leave her lips as she kissed the ball, placing it back down on the ground. Getting in the right stance, she swung the croquet stick to hit the ball.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the red ball made contact with your forehead, a sudden stinging pain emerging from the area. A few seconds after the hit, you shook your head and looked up at the three as they giggled. You looked away, your misery and humiliation only growing.

————————-

You sat on the school steps, a pen in your hand as you scribbled down your scattered thoughts. Well, maybe not as scattered as you imagined. In fact, they were quite organized. Unlike your hasty handwriting…

Dear Diary,

Scarlett told me she teaches people real life. She said, “Real life sucks losers dry. If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly.”

I said, “So you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?”

She said, “Yes.”

I said, “You’re beautiful.”

Hailey walked up to you, Sue close to her side. The brunette gently kicked you in the side, a pout on her face as she avoided eye contact.

“Come on, Y/N…” she muttered, clearly not enjoying her time pestering you. Her soft voice echoed in the (surprisingly) quite corridor, her distant eyes almost as dull as her voice sounded.

Your eye twitched as you flipped the hair out of your face, looking up at the girl in yellow. “What is your damage, Hailey?”

She flinched at your aggressive tone, tilting her head once more and avoiding eye contact. She squeaked out a reply. “Please don’t blame me, blame Scarlett… She told me to haul you into the cafeteria, pronto.” She lifted her head, looking over to Sue, signalling for help.

Sue took the signal and continued the conversation. “Yeah, she really wants to talk to you, Y/N.”

You shut your diary, aggravation covering your facial features at their urgent tones. “Okay, I’m going. Jesus Christ…” You stood up, following the two to the cafeteria. As you entered, Sue and Hailey led you to Scarlett. Your eyes traveled the room, finding a variety of different students.

Of course, you had to have your table of jocks. More like the dumbasses of the school, in your opinion. But hey, to each their own, right? And then, there was the table of cheerleaders. If anybody could make somebody’s life a living hell in thirty seconds, it was them. If they had dirt on you, your high school social status was down the drain. The rest of the tables consisted of the basic groups, your nerds, your losers, your weirdos (named by the one and only Scarlett).

You looked straightforward once more, facing the back of Scarlett.

“Hello, Scarlett.”

She turned around, a fake smile on her perfect features.

“Y/N, finally. I’ve got a note of Zion’s. I need you to forge a hot and horny, but realistically low-key note in Zion’s handwriting, and we’ll slip it onto Martha Dumptruck’s lunch tray.”

You glowered at her, speaking up with an irritated voice. “Shit, Scarlett, I don’t have anything against Martha Dunstock.”

Her jaw dropped at your words as she raised her eyebrows. “You don’t have anything for her either! Come on, it’ll be very. The note will give her shower nozzle masturbation material for weeks.”

Sue and Hailey made eye contact with each other, small smiles on their face. A despondent look crossed your face as you looked her in the eye. “I’ll think about it.”

She gave you a familiar nasty look. “Don’t think,” she jeered.

Her famous smirk appeared once more as Martha turned the corner, putting more food on her lunch tray. Scarlett turned to her minions, giving them a smile. “Y/N needs something to write on. Sue, bend over.”

Sue let out a sigh, but obliged to Scarlett’s words and bent into an L position. Scarlett gave you a piece of paper to write on, holding out the note she had gotten from Zion. You let out a dejected sigh, placing the paper on Sue’s back and beginning to forge what Scarlett was telling you.

“Dear Martha, you’re so sweet.” She continued to talk in her sugary voice until you had finished the letter, tearing it out and handing it to Scarlett. She then handed it to Hailey, who folded it in half and slipped it onto Martha’s lunch tray. She ran back to the three of you with a giddy smile on her face as you watched Martha take a seat.

You all sat yourselves down at a lunch table, the chatter between the trio continuing as you tuned them out, resting your cheek on your palm. A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze, Scarlett giving you a smile.

“Y/N, guess what day it is?”

You thought for a moment, but quickly answered. “Lunchtime poll? So what’s the question?”

“Yeah, so what’s the question, Scarlett?” Sue asked as well, looking Scarlett in the eyes.

“Goddamn, Sue. You were with me in study hall when I thought of it.”

“I forgot.”

Scarlett stared at her for a moment before shaking her head and looking back down at the paper. “Such a pillowcase,” she muttered under her breath.

“This wouldn’t be that bizzaro thing you were babbling over the phone last night, would it?” You questioned, your eyes scanning the lunch room once again. You made a brief second of eye contact with a boy who seemed to be staring at you. He had brown locks and circular glasses, a confused squint crossing his face. You quickly averted your gaze, looking back to Scarlett.

“Of course it is-” She stood up, you and the other two following behind- “I told Dennis if he gave me another political topic, I’d spew burrito chunks.”

You looked over at the boy once more, barely hearing Scarlett’s words. This time, he gave you a charming smile with a small raise of the brow. With your eyes glued to him, you didn’t even notice where you were heading until you ran into somebody’s lunch chair. The impact made you gasp as you jumped back, looking down at the person sitting in the object.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry!”

“Judy, gosh. Hey, I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to your birthday party last month.”

She shrugged and let out a slight laugh. “It’s okay. Your mom said you had a big date. I think I’d probably miss my own birthday for a date.”

You playfully punched her shoulder. “Don’t say that.”

She gave you another one of her bright smiles as the conversation continued. “You know what? I was looking around the other day, and I dug up, uh, these old photographs.” She let out a slight laugh as she pulled a few photos out of her bright blue backpack. She handed the photo to you as you smiled at her.

“Oh, these are great!” You exclaimed as you looked at the old photos of you and her. The both of you were dressed up in Halloween costumes, you a ghost and her a devil. Both of you had bright smiles on your faces as you had your arm around her.

Scarlett firmly grabbed your arm, giving it a harsh tug. “Come on, Y/N!”

You dropped the photos (against your own will, might I add) as the blonde dragged you away from your childhood friend.

“I was talking to somebody!” You gave her a glare. She rolled her eyes and walked over to another lunch table, smiling at a brunette girl who looked quite annoyed.

“Hi Courtney. Love your cardigan,” Scarlett said with a judgmental look on her face.

Courtney smiled, placing a hand on her chest. “Thanks, I just got it last night at the limited. Like totally blew my allowance.” She giggled.

Scarlett smiled, pointing at her notebook. “Now check this out. You win five million from the publisher’s sweepstakes, and the same day that the big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on earth and say that they’re going to blow up the world in two days. What do you do?”

The boy sitting across from her smirked, responding to the question. “That’s easy. I just slide that was over to my father, because he is like one of the top brokers in the state.”

“If I got that money, I’d give it all to the homeless. Every cent,” Courtney replied, looking you in the eye.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, pursing your lips and furrowing your brows, nodding at her answer. You turned away from the table, walking off. Scarlett gritted her teeth, turning towards you.

“If you’re going to openly be a bitch-”

You cut her off immediately. “It’s just, Scarlett, why can’t we talk to different kinds of people?”

She opened her mouth in shock and gave you a confused look. “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, do I look like Mother Theresa to you? If I did, I probably wouldn’t mind talking to the geek squad.” She gestured to four boys at a table. The one who she pointed directly at spit out his milk at the sight of the two of you looking at him.

“Does it not bother you that everybody in this school thinks that you’re a piranha?” You questioned while leaning your head forward, looking directly into her ruby eyes.

She gave you a sinister smile. “Like I give a shit. I mean, seriously Y/N. They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I’m worshipped at Westerburg, and I’m only a junior.” She shook her head at you. “I can’t believe this. We’re going to a party at Remington University tonight, and we’re brushing up on our conversational skills with the scum of the school.”

You rolled your eyes and averted your gaze to the floor, bumping your shoulder with hers as you walked towards the table of geeks. You gave them a soft smile.

“Hi,” you said, waving at them politely.

One of the geeks smiled, giving you a wave in return. Scarlett walked up next to you, letting out a sigh and staring down at the geeks with venom in her eyes.

“So this is what’s called a lunchtime poll.” You gave her a small nod as she asked the question before the both of you walked off to other groups, getting an answer from each of them. Some answers were weird, some normal, and others were quite… different, to say the least.

As you finished up with the poll, you and Scarlett found your way back to Sue and Hailey, both of which were watching Martha read the letter.

“Here we go…” Hailey muttered as she latched onto Scarlett’s arm. Martha stood up, walking over to Zion and his jock buddies. She handed him the letter, one of his friends looking over his shoulder to read it as well. The three girls behind you began laughing as discreetly as they could.

Zion’s friend burst out laughing as Zion looked at him with anger, giving him a punch on the shoulder. “Lay off, dude.”

“No way,” his friend replied, snatching the letter and passing it around the table. As the scene went on, you looked over back to the boy that had been staring at you earlier.

He adjusted his glasses, leaning back in his seat and giving you another smile, this one accompanied with a shrug. Letting out a sigh, you looked back to the table of jocks only to see Martha storm out of the cafeteria as they all continued laughing, Zion’s mood dropping at their animalistic behavior. You looked at the girls next to you, shaking your head and walking over to the donation table where two boys stood.

“Hey, Y/N,” Harry, a calm and kind boy, smiled at you. You nodded at him in acknowledgement as his friend took over the conversation.

“Five keeps the neighborhood alive,” he said, raising his eyebrows in hopes that you would donate. You gave them a small smile, reaching into your pocket. But before you could grab any money, a hand grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the table.

“You wanted to be a member of the most powerful clique in school. If I wasn’t already the head of it, I’d want the same thing.” Scarlett gave you a sadistic smile. “Come on, Y/N, you used to have a sense of humor.”

Her smile dropped as she flipped around, sashaying out of the cafeteria. As her back was turned, you lifted up both of your middle fingers and shot them out at her before quickly putting them away, rolling your eyes, and following her to the bathroom.

Hailey and Sue were already in the room when you and Scarlett entered, Hailey re-applying the little amount of makeup she had on and Sue standing near a stall. Scarlett joined Hailey as you stood by them.

“Y/N, could you come back here a minute?” Sue asked, eyeing you with an unintelligible look.

You looked at Scarlett, lifting up your pointer finger to your temple. “True friend’s work is never done,” you stated, turning around and following Sue into the stall. Scarlett rolled her eyes, muttering a ‘gross’ as you walked towards the girl in green.

“Grow up, Sue. Bulimia is so ‘87.” Scarlett leaned forward, putting on some lip gloss before smiling to herself in the mirror.

You looked Sue in the eyes, as you filed your nails. She was obviously embarrassed about the subject, being one of the most serious in the group.

“You know, maybe you should see a doctor.” You smiled at her. She looked down at the floor.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Come on, Sue, let’s take another look at today’s lunch.” Sue tried to make it go unnoticed, but you let out a quiet chuckle as she rolled her eyes at Scarlett’s next words.

You gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to her.”

Pushing yourself off the stall, you opened the stall door and walked out of the bathroom, the three girls following you back into the cafeteria. For the fourth time that day, you made eye contact with the mysterious boy with glasses.

“Wow, Y/N, drool much?” Hailey gave you a smug smile as she whispered out her words. It wasn’t often that she would speak like this, but on the rare occasion, she would muster up a few of these words to impress Scarlett. “His name is Lawrence. He’s in my history class.”

You ignored the stares the three gave you as you began to walk towards the boy, your gazes not leaving each other once. As you fully approached him, you began to speak.

“Hello, Lawrence.”

He looked down and let out a small chuckle at the fact that you knew his name, but looked back up at you with a gentle smile. “Greetings and salutations. Are you a part of them?” He gestured towards the three girls you had been standing by previously.

“No, I’m my own person. I’m Y/N.” You hugged your books tighter to your chest at the smile he gave you for your answer.

“This may seem like a really stupid question,” you said, eyeing him up and down.

“There are no stupid questions,” he replied. You bit your lip and smiled at the response.

“You inherit five million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?”

He furrowed his brows, looking down for a brief moment before looking back up at you. “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard. Ah, I don’t know. Probably row out to the middle of a lake somewhere, bring along a bottle of tequila, my sax, and some bach.” He smirked, looking satisfied with his playful response.

“How very.” You smiled. He nodded back at you. The conversation was cut short by Scarlett storming towards you, a dissatisfied look on her features.

“Come on, Y/N.” She looked at Lawrence with a sour expression. You gave him a smile.

“Later,” you said, biting your lip once more.

He smiled back at you, fire in his eyes.

“Definitely.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes and grabbed your arm, dragging you away.

———————————

After an afternoon of Scarlett and Sue bickering and a short conversation with Lawrence at the snack shack, you had finally arrived at the university party with Scarlett. As you walked into the area the party was at, a college kid stood up and smirked.

“Hello ladies, throw your coats on the floor. Ah, Y/N, this is Brad.” The guy said, pointing to his friend who stood next to him. He eyed you up and down before letting out a quiet ‘excellent.’ Scarlett grinned at you as the college kid (who you still didn’t know the name of) continued to talk.

“Did you girls bring your partying slippers?”

Scarlett smiled up at him. “Let’s party.”

He smiled and leaned over to Brad. “She loves to party!” He shouted over the music. Brad smiled and whispered something in his ear, the both of them breaking out into chuckles afterward.

Dear Diary,

I want to kill, and you have to believe it’s for more than just selfish reasons, more than just a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me.

Brad smiled at you as you awkwardly stood in the small, young adult filled hallway. He shouted over the loud music so you could hear him.

“It’s so great to be able to talk to a girl and not have to ask what’s your major! I hate that.” You took a sip of the alcohol in your cup before looking away from him, ignoring his comment. He stayed silent for a moment, before his loud mouth opened up once more.

“So, when you go to college, what subjects do you think you’ll study?” You rolled your eyes at the question, repeating the process for the earlier comment. You pushed yourself off the wall, walking away to find a room that was empty.

Oh Christ, I can’t explain it, but I’m allowed an understanding that my parents and these Remington University assholes have chosen to ignore. I understand that I must stop Scarlett.

After multiple (awkward) incidents of walking in on college couples making out and such, you had finally found a room for yourself. You plopped yourself down on a couch, looking around in boredom. After a while of scanning the room, your eyes came across a box of matches.

Taking a match out, you lit it up and hovered your free hand over it, feeling the heat. Your hand got a little too close to the flame (probably because you were slightly tipsy) causing you to drop the match. But, you weren’t planning on it landing in your cup. The alcohol in the cup caught fire as you lifted the cup up, staring at the accident.

“Shit…” you muttered, throwing the cup out of an open window in panic. You leaned back on the couch, twiddling your thumbs at the boredom that visited you once again. After a few minutes, the door creaked open.

Brad gave you a cheeky grin, walking over to the couch.

“How’s my little cheerleader, huh? Oh, I know everyone at your high school isn’t so uptight.” He sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on.”

You gritted your teeth out of frustration and anger, beginning to raise your voice at the boy. “Come on, now look, I don’t feel so good, okay?”

Ignoring your comment, he picked up one of the coats on the couch. “Hey, let’s do it on the coats. It’ll be excellent, huh?” He gave you a wide smirk, his cocky voice annoying more than ever. You stood up out of his arms, looking at him with a glowering look.

“You know, I have a little prepared speech I tell my suitor when he wants more than I’d like to give him. Gee, blank, I had a really nice-”

“Save the speeches for Malcolm X. I just want to get laid.” He cut you off with his bold statement.

You reached down and nabbed your coat. “You don’t deserve my fucking speech.” You were practically fuming as you walked away from the room.

Judy was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of swatch dogs and diet coke heads.

Killing Scarlett would be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West. Wait, East. West! God, I sound like a fucking psycho!

You leaned against the hallway wall, the alcohol becoming a little too much for your teenage stomach. Before you knew it, a loud, booming voice reached your ears.

“What’s your damage, Y/N? Brad says you’re being a real cooze.” Those familiar, ruby eyes were narrowed at you, venom lacing her voice.

“Scarlett, I feel really sick like I’m going to throw up. So can we please jam now?” You replied hastily, your breathing labored.

She raised a brow. “No. Hell no!”

Before you could prevent it, you felt the bile coming up your throat. You lurched over to avoid throwing up on Scarlett’s dress and let the vomit leave your mouth. As you came up gasping for breath, Scarlett let out a sinister laugh as she stared at you.

Tomorrow I’ll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Scarlett. A world where I am free.

You rushed out of the building, Scarlett not far behind you. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths before Scarlett began scolding you.

“You stupid fuck!”

Anger built up in your system as you quickly shot back a retort. “You goddamn bitch!”

“You were nothing before you met me. You were playing barbies with Judy. You were a bluebird. You were a brownie. You were a girl scout cookie. I got you into a Remington party. What’s my thanks? It’s on the hallway carpet! I got paid in puke!”

“Lick it up, baby! Lick. It. Up!” You replied with a satisfied smirk.

Her ruby red eyes glimmered in the moonlight, eyebrows furrowed in fury. “Monday morning, you’re history. I’ll tell everyone about tonight. Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No one at Westerburg’s gonna let you play their reindeer games.”

————————

You finished scribbling words into your diary, quickly throwing it across your room not long after. You let out a sigh. Preparing yourself to go pick it up, you looked over to the direction you threw it. But the one thing you weren’t expecting was to see Lawrence’s face popping through your window.

“Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.” He gave you a small smile.

You let out a small, awkward laugh. “It’s okay.”

He bit his lip, raising a brow at you. “I saw the croquet set up in the back. You up for a match?”

————————-

After a night of Lawrence’s so called ‘strip-croquet’ and talking about both of your hatred for Scarlett, you both made your way to her house early in the morning.

After the two of you snuck into her house through the backdoor, you decided to put out a bit of reassurance.

“Trust me, she skips the saturday morning trip to Grandma’s even when she’s not hungover.”

He shut the door behind him, following you into her kitchen. “I guess we’ll make her a little hangover cure that will induce her to spew red, white, and blue then.”

You let out a small snort at the comment. “What about like milk and orange juice? What’s the upchuck factor on that?” You asked him. You walked over to the fridge, opening it and looking for the two drinks that you were planning to put in your evil hangover remedy. After spotting the two, your face lit up.

He stood up from his crouched position of searching through her cabinets, holding up a bottle of liquid drainer. “I’m a no-rust-buildup man myself.”

“Don’t be a dick. That stuff will kill her.” You rolled your eyes as you took out the orange juice and milk, putting it on the kitchen counter. He gave you a bit of an awkward smile, the grin on your face slowly dropping.

You looked around the kitchen counter, thinking about the comment he just made. You quickly thought of something to change the subject. “I know, we can cook up some soup and put it in a coke. That’s pretty sick, eh? Now should it be chicken noodle or bean with bacon?” You screwed the cap off of the orange juice and put the two soups on the counter.

He turned around and gestured the various cans and bottles on the counter in front of you. “Put a lid on that stuff, I say we go with big blue here.” He lifted up the glass of blue liquid drainer in order to show it off to you.

Holy shit, he wasn’t joking, was he?

“What are you talking about? She would never drink anything that looked like that anyway.” He clicked his tongue, looking up into the newly opened cabinet.

“So we’ll, uh, put it in this.” He grabbed a mug with a lid on top of it, turning to you to get a look of approval. “She won’t be able to see what she’s drinking.”

You sighed, walking over to the area he was standing at with the orange juice and milk in your hands.

“Let me get a cup, jerk,” you said playfully, reaching up to grab a mug to put the two drinks in. He began to dump the liquid drainer in the mug he grabbed, while you started pouring the milk and orange juice in the cup you had grabbed.

After a bit of conversing, he looked you in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing your cheeks and gently lifting your face up. He initiated a gentle kiss, while you reached down to grab the cup of orange juice and milk. Too focused on the kiss, you accidentally grabbed the liquid drainer. Pulling away from the kiss, you gave him a soft smile before walking away to go find Scarlett.

As you were about to walk away, Lawrence called out to you.

“Ah, Y/N?”

“What?”

“Uh, nevermind. I’ll carry the cup.”

The two of you entered Scarlett’s room, watching her sleep peacefully.

“Morning, Scarlett,” you greeted her as she opened her eyes, sitting up slowly.

“Y/N and… whoever the hell you are. Nice surprise. Hear about Y/N’s affection for regurgitation?”

“Scarlett, I think last night we both said a lot of stuff we didn’t mean,” you spoke to her in a soft voice.

She raised a brow. “Did we?” She shifted her gaze over to Lawrence. “How the hell did you get in here?”

He looked over to you as he began speaking, changing the subject quickly. “Um, Y/N knew you’d have a hangover so I whipped this up for you. It’s a family recipe.”

“What did you do, put a phlegm globber in it or something?” She questioned. “I’m not going to drink that piss.”

He looked over at you once more. “I knew this stuff would be too intense for her.” He brought the cup down to his side.

Scarlett let out a laugh. “Ha! Intense. Grow up. You think I’ll drink it just because you call me a chicken?”

You and Lawrence both shared mischievous smiles as she got out of her bed and began walking towards him.

“Just give me the cup, jerk.”

He licked his lips, extending his arm as she took the cup and quickly lifted it up to her lips, downing the entire drink. Her eyes widened after she got a taste, and she began to lurch forward a bit.

Your face morphed into one of confusion at her reaction, and it only deepened as she began choking and gasping for air.

She walked forward, clawing at her throat and before you knew it, she fell forward, straight through a glass table. The glass shattered and you let out a gasp, looking over at Lawrence as he smiled a bit.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, shock overcoming your system. “I can’t believe it. I just killed my best friend.”

“And your worst enemy,” Lawrence added on.

“Same difference.”

You walked over to a chair, holding your head in your hands and closing your eyes tightly.

“What are we going to tell the cops?” He questioned. “Fuck it if she can’t take a joke, Sarge?”

“Oh the cops,” you gasped out, the shock still settling in. “I can’t believe this is my life. Oh my god. I’m gonna gave to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford.”

“All right, just a little freaked here. At least you got what you wanted, you know?” Lawrence feigned shock, a smile on his face as he stood behind you. You turned towards him, his smile dropping immediately.

“Got what I wanted? It is one thing to want somebody out of your life, but it’s another thing to serve them a wakeup cup full of liquid drainer.”

The both of you stood silent for a few moments, the air being broken by Lawrence’s silky voice.

“Alright, we did a murder. Now that’s a crime. But if this were like a suicide thing, you know?”

“Like a suicide thing?”

“Yeah. I mean, you can do Scarlett’s handwriting as well as your own, right? Right?”

You reached down into one of her drawers, grabbing a sheet of paper. Looking Lawrence in the eyes, you responded. “Yeah.”

Lawrence nodded as you began to recite what you would write down. “You might think what I’ve done is shocking.”

Lawrence continued on to your words on what to write in the note. “Um, to me though, suicide is the natural answer ot the myraid of problems life has given me.”

“That’s good, but Scarlett would never use the word myriad.”

“This is the last thing she’ll ever write. She’s going to want to cash in on as many fifty cent words as possible.”

“Yeah, but she missed myriad on the vocab test two weeks ago.”

“That only proves my point more. The word is a badge for her failures at school.”

“Oh.” You sighed. “Okay, you’re probably right.”

He nodded at you as you continued to say the words you were writing out loud.

“People think that just because you’re beautiful and popular life is easy and fun. No one understood, I had feelings too.”

As the two of you finished the suicide note, you ran out of the house, seperating with a kiss and going your own ways.

—————————–

After a long school day of the students ‘mourning’ for Scarlett (and your small mental breakdowns in the locker room and english class) you had finally settled down next to Lawrence on his couch. You rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes closed as he had a tiny conversation with his father. You tuned most of it out, until you heard his father mention something about you. Lawrence lightly tapped your shoulder, forcing your eyes to open as you looked up to the man.

He was almost the spitting image of Lawrence, but a lot older.

“Y/N, this is my dad, Dad, this is Y/N.”

You smiled at him, giving him a small greeting as you held your hand out for a shake. He just stared at you, an unreadable look on his face. He didn’t return your handshake, resulting in you awkwardly retreating your hand. Lawrence rolled his eyes at his father’s actions.

“Gee, Dad. Why don’t you ask your guest to stay for dinner?”

Before you knew it, an unsettling feeling rested itself inside your stomach. You lifted yourself off of the couch, a gentle (yet awkward) smile resting on your face.

“Actually, um, I can’t. My mom’s making my favorite meal tonight. Spaghetti, lots of oregano.”

Lawrence gave you a nod. “Sounds good.” He stood up from the couch, walking over to give you a small kiss on the cheek.

“See you,” he mumbled.

“Right.” You bid the two goodbye, quickly walking home.

After a very short dinner with your parents, you quickly got clothed in the old black dress sitting in the back of your closet. Scarlett’s funeral wasn’t exactly something you were looking forward to, but out of respect, you had decided to attend.

As you sat in the church pew next to Lawrence, the (quite opinionated) priest continued to drone on.

“I blame not Scarlett, but rather a society that tells its youth that the answers can be found in the MTV video games. We must pray that the other teenagers of this town know the name of that righteous dude who can solve their problems. It’s Jesus Christ, and he’s in the book.”

“Amen,” the attendees of the funeral chorused, both you and Lawrence looking over at each other with hesitant looks.

As each of the fellows teenagers of your school took their turn praying next to Scarlett, you were finally up. You kneeled down next to the girl (who still managed to keep her beauty, even in death) and softly closed your eyes.

Hello, to whoever’s listening in on this. I’m sorry. Technically, I did not kill Scarlett, but hey. Who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nice place. Amen. Did that sound bitchy?

As you walked away from the casket, you ran into Hailey not long after.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?”

“I’m not sure, mourning? Maybe watch some TV. Why?” She linked her arm with yours and walked you out of the church.

“Well, Ram asked me out tonight, but he wants to double with Zion and Zion doesn’t have a date.”

You sighed, stopping her in her place and looking at her sympathetically. “Hailey, I have something going on with Lawrence.”

“Please, Y/N. Put Lawrence on hold tonight, I really need your help here.”

You exhaled, giving her a hesitant nod before walking off.

———————–

You gave Hailey an annoyed look as the two of you stood next to each other in the towns pasture. Turns out, Ram had wanted to tip cows and decided to bring Zion, you, and Hailey along. You raised a brow while Ram giggled, circling the cow. Zion stood behind him, rolling his eyes every so often. After a small countdown, Ram had finally managed to tip the cow.

The cow landed in a big puddle of mud, the liquid splashing across you and Hailey. Ram let out a loud laugh while Zion, of course, continued to roll his eyes.

You let out a sigh of discontent, walking away from the trio and leaning up against a nearby tree.

After a couple of minutes, a familiar voice found your ears.

“What is this?” Lawrence questioned, walking down the hill. You groaned, walking towards him.

“I’m doing a favor for Hailey. Double date. I tried to tell you at the funeral, but you rode off before I could.”

“Another one of Scarlett’s clones.” He let out a chuckle, anger laced in his words. You gave him a disapproving look. He looked down at his shoes, muttering out an apology.

After a quick invite to go get a slushie (which the both of you enjoyed, thank you very much), you ended up going home in preparation for the long school day ahead of you.

And to your expectations, the next day started off shitty. Apparently, Ram decided to make some nasty ass rumors about you and him, plus Zion, which wasn’t going too well for either of you. The day was filled with rude comments directed towards you, and after a while, you were fed up. You called your mother to pick you up from school, and you spent the day coming up with revenge plots in you mind (that would never happen).

As you (sorta) expected, Lawrence had shown up later that night with a proposal. He wanted you to call Ram and tell him to meet up with you somewhere so the two of you could give him a scare with blanks. Crazy idea, I know, but hey, you only live once, right?

“Hi, Ram? Hey, this is Y/N. Yeah, I didn’t expect to be calling either. I guess my emotions took over. I was wondering if you wanted all those things you’ve been saying to really happen. It’s always been a fantasy of mine to have two guys at once.” You almost gagged at your fake words, but kept up the sickly sweet act. Lawrence let out an airy laugh, staring at you with surprise. You smiled and picked up a pillow, chucking it at the boy before focusing your attention back to the boy on the phone.

“Oh, sure. You can write to penthouse forum. Yeah, in the woods behind the school at dawn. Don’t forget! Oh, and you don’t have to bring Zion. It might be a little more interesting with just the two of us.” You quickly hung up the call, pursing your lips as you tried to hold back your laugh.

Lawrence gave you a charming smile before giving you a small peck.

About an hour later, you let out a sigh. Placing the gun Lawrence had handed you on the bed, you looked at him in the eyes. “I don’t get why we’re faking suicide notes when we’re just going to be shooting them with blanks.”

He returned your stare, raising his brows. “Well, we’re not going to be using blanks this time.”

Your brow raised as you stared at him in shock. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Holy shit, I’m dating a fucking sociopath.

“Listen, my Bonnie and Clyde days are over,” you breathed out, beginning to lift yourself off the bed.

“Wait a second, wait a second.” He grabbed your arm, gently yanking you back down. “Do you take German?”

“French,” you corrected.

“All right, these are ich luge bullets. My grandfather snared a shitload of them back in WWII. They’re like tranquilizers. Only they break the surface of the skin enough to cause a little blood but no real damage.”

“So it looks like the person’s been shot and killed, and really they’re just lying there unconscious and bleeding?” He gave you a nod.

“Right. See, we shoot Ram and make it look like he accidently shot himself, and by the time he regains consciousness, he’ll be the laughing stock of the school. The note’s the punchline. How’d that turn out?”

You smiled up at him. “First, tell me the similarity is not incredible.” You smirked, grabbing a paper with a sample of Ram’s handwriting and the note you forged.

Lawrence grinned. “It’s incredible similarity.”

You let an accomplished smile, clearing your throat so you could read off the fake note you wrote. “I died the day I realized I could never reveal my forbidden feelings for Zion to an uncaring and ununderstanding world. The joy I shared when I was around him was greater than any touchdown. Yet, I was forced to live the lie of a sexist, beer guzzling, jock asshole.”

Lawrence let out a chuckle. “It’s perfect.”

———————-

The next morning, you waited in the woods with a gun tucked into the waistband of your skirt. You readjusted your jacket so it would cover the bra that you were wearing for the act, jumping slightly at a sudden voice that chirped into your ears.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You gave Ram a nod of acknowledgment. “Glad you could make it.”

He stood around for a few seconds. “So… should I just whip it out or?”

Jesus Christ.

You gave him a fake smile. “Well, I’ve made a circle on this side of the clearing. Ram, why don’t you step over here.” You pointed to the circle you had made, Ram following your directions.

“When you get to the circle, strip.”

Ram raised a brow. “What about you?”

“I was kind of hoping you could rip my clothes off me, sport.” You gave him a wink, disgusted at the look he gave you.

“Good idea.”

After he had finished stripping down, you looked away, a fake smile crossing your face. “Okay, count of three, yeah?”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.” A surprise entrance was made by Lawrence. He stepped out from behind a tree, his gun held up high as he shot at Ram. Ram fell to the ground, blood surrounding the wound. A shuffle and gasp was heard from the forest, the both of you looking at each other with brows raised.

Before you knew it, a flash of red zoomed away.

“W-Was that Zion?” You questioned, looking over at Lawrence.

“Damn… stay here, Y/N. I’ll be right back.”

Lawrence ran after the boy, leaving you and Ram in the dust.

After a few minutes of silence, you kneeled next to Ram. You shook him a bit, noticing that he wasn’t breathing. The shocking realization came over you quickly as you drew back, a gasp leaving your mouth. “Oh my god.”

Zion came running around a tree, staring down at you and Ram. Lawrence didn’t hesitate in this stall, shooting him in the chest quickly. Zion slowly fell to the ground, a look of regret washing over his face. Another gasp let you as the blood from his chest splattered across your face, your hands reaching up to wipe it away.

You stared at Lawrence with suspicious eyes as you placed the note onto Ram’s body. Voices were heard not too far away, Lawrence looking up at you with wide eyes. He stood up, grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the scene.

You and him continued to sprint, a harsh whisper erupting from your throat. “Where the hell are we going?”

He shushed you, running even faster. The two of you eventually reached your car, both of you rushing to open the doors. You sat in the driver’s seat while he sat in the passengers, him ditching his large coat.

“Take your jacket off,” he said, out of breath while he pulled his shirt over his head.

“What? Why?!”

“Just do what I say!”

You complied, shrugging off the jacket to reveal your bra. Lawrence hastily reached forward, grabbing the sides of your face as he roughly kissed you. You didn’t exactly comply at first, until he mumbled ‘just follow my lead’ under his breath.

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his head as you matched the intenseness of the kiss. He leaned forward even more, making you lean slightly back as he bit your lip. You let out a slight yelp, but continued with the session. You shifted your eyes over to the front of the car, seeing a police officer on his walkie talkie. Shifting your eyes back over to Lawrence, you moved your lips down to his neck.

He looked over your shoulder, watching the cop leave. Letting out a sigh, he parted away from you. “We’re all good now.”

You leaned back into the seat, putting your jacket back on. “Thank god.”

————————–

Following a brief argument with Lawrence in your car about whether they deserved to die or not, the both of you sat next to each other at a funeral, once again. A repeat of the same speech from the same priest and an emotional speech from Ram’s father set off something inside of you, something that agreed with the feelings you had about the murder of Zion and Ram.

Dear Diary,

My teen angst bullshit has a body count, and I’m not too happy about it. The most popular kids in school are dead. Everybody’s sad, but it’s a weird kind of sad. Suicide gave Scarlett depth, Zion a way out, and Ram a brain. I don’t know what it’s given me, but I’ve got no control over myself when I’m with Lawrence.

Are we going to prom or to hell?

—————————-

The day consisted of a lunchtime filled with you ignoring Lawrence and an afternoon of bickering between you two (as well as figuring out that his father is just as psychotic as he is), which resulted in a break up that didn’t end too well.

Roaming the hallways wasn’t exactly the easiest. I mean, after all, your ‘best friend’ was dead, your ex was a psycho, and Sue and Hailey weren’t your favorite people of all time. But, you grew some balls and showed up.

As you stood outside of Scarlett’s locker, you weren’t expecting a pair of cold hands to fall over your eyes.

“Guess who?”

You lifted the hands up, turning around to face the one and only Sue. But not only was she in high spirits, she had Scarlett’s red bow clipped up in her hair. It did compliment her nicely, but it didn’t seem correct.

You looked at the bow, letting out a scoff before walking away.

As the day came to an end, you laid down on your bed, letting out an exhausted sigh. It was basically a routine by now. Ever since Lawrence came into your life, the only interesting things that happened were pure chaos, which wasn’t your favorite.

You looked over at the phone on your nightstand, reaching over to dial a familiar number. The line began to ring, and before you knew it, a cheery voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Judy? This is Y/N. I was wondering, would you want to come over and play a game of croquet with me?”

Judy showed up not too long after, and the croquet game commenced. Judy was in the lead, but that wasn’t the thing that you were too focused on. After a bit of small talk, you decided to strike up an actual conversation.

“You know, I’m sorry for… dropping you like I did.”

“Oh, Y/N. It’s okay, I understand. I’d drop me too for a chance to hang out with Scarlett and her gang. No hard feelings, yeah?”

You gave her a gentle smile, but before you could vocalize a response, a voice interrupted.

“Well, look what we have here.” Sue and Hailey walked in, Sue clad in red.

Judy smiled at the ground, giving you a bashful look. “Listen I… I gotta get home, okay? Let’s talk again.”

You smiled at her, bidding her farewell before looking over to the two who rudely interrupted your free time with Judy.

Sue looked at you with a chipper smile. “I’m red.”

You rolled your eyes.

———————–

Succeeding an argument with your parents about teen suicide, Sue decided to stroll into your house claiming that ‘the door was open.’

You walked up to her, giving her a small glare at the smile she sported. “Y/N, have you heard? We were doing chinese at the food fair when it comes over the radio that Martha Dumptruck tried to buy the farm.”

You opened your mouth in shock at the new information, but decided to let her continue speaking.

She let out a chuckle. “She belly flopped in front of a car wearing a suicide note.”

Despair flowed through your veins as you stared at Sue in surprise. “Is she dead?”

“No, that’s the punchline. She’s alive and in stable condition. Just another case of a geek trying to imitate the popular people of this school and failing miserably.”

You squinted your face up in anger at her words, lifting up a hand. Your hand flew across her cheek, the loud sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. Sue gasped, holding her hand up to her cheek.

Let’s just say that hours later, you were stuck apologizing, once again. The two of you sat in your room, listening to Hot Probs, and advice hotline on the radio. After a few ridiculous calls, a familiar voice entered your ears over the radio.

“My name is Hailey– no, it’s not Hailey. No, it’s Madonna. Jeez, no not that.”

You stared at Sue with wide eyes, her returning the look.

“Hey, babe, I need a name,” the man hosting the hotline called out. A few seconds of silence followed, but Hailey’s voice soon came through.

“My name is Tweety. God has cursed me, I think. The last guy I showed interest in killed himself the day after we had our date. I’m failing math, my whole life is a mess. I was supposed to be captain of the cheerleading team-”

You looked up at Sue in shock. “She knows we listen to this show.”

“Holy shit, we’ll crucify her!!” Sue smiled widely. You rolled your eyes at her comment.

—————————-

The next day came by all too quickly, and here you were, stuck in your thoughts once again. Hailey’s name was written all over the board as she sat idly in her cheerleading uniform, a sad look crossing her face.

Dear Diary,

Sue told everybody about Hailey. Yes, I’ve cut off Scarlett’s head and Sue’s head has sprouted back in its place like some… mythological thing my eighth grade boyfriend would have known about.

Sue’s even doing the old note trick. I’ve seen Lawrence’s way, and nothing has changed. I guess that’s Sue’s way. And Jesus, what about Lawrence? I can’t get him out of my head.

Wait– where’s Hailey going?

Hailey picked up her stuff, covering her face as she stormed out of the classroom.

You closed your diary, the teacher walking into the class asking the same exact question. Sue chuckled, looking down at her nails.

“She’s going to cry~” The jocks in the class laughed at her response. Not being able to handle the urge to go after her, you shot up from your desk, walking out of the classroom in the same way Hailey had. The teacher called after you, but no response was given.

You ran into the bathroom, catching sight of Hailey filling up an empty prescription bottle with water. Storming up to the timid girl, you grabbed ahold of her cheeks, forcing the tremendous amount of pills out of her mouth. “Hailey!”

“What are you trying to do, kill me?” She pushed you away, hugging her torso.

“What are you trying to do, sleep?” You shot back as she lowered herself to the ground.

“Suicide is a private thing.”

“Hailey, you’re throwing your life away to become a statistic in the us-fucking-a today. Now, that is the least private thing I can think of.”

“What about Scarlett, and Zion, and Ram?”

You sighed, sitting down next to her. “If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?”

She hesitated for a moment, but answered not long after. “Probably.”

You reached your hand down to hers, gripping it tight. “If you were happy everyday of your life, you wouldn’t be a human being. You’d be a game show host.” She chuckled at the comment.

“What do you say we knock off early, but some shoes, something lame like that?” She asked, smiling at you.

“Okay.” She rested her head on your shoulder as the two of you sat in a comfortable silence.

———————–

You stomped down the stairwell, catching Sue sitting on the windowsill at the bottom. Apparently she had started a stupid little petition, and you weren’t too happy about it. “Sue?”

“Y/N, color me stoked, girl. I’ve gotten everyone to sign this petition, even the ones who think big fun is stupid. People love me! You know, you haven’t signed yet.”

“People love you, but I know you. Jennifer Forbes told me the petition she signed was to put a hot tub in the cafeteria. And Doug Hilton said–”

“Some people need different kinds of convincing than others. Look, just sign the petition, okay?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, okay?” You imitated, mocking her words.

“Look, it was Lawrence’s idea. He made out the signature sheet and everything, so why don’t you just sign it?”

“No,” you spat. She gave you a smirk, adjusting her glasses.

“Jealous much?”

You gritted your teeth, letting out some of your anger. “Sue, why can’t you just be a friend? Why are you such a megabitch?”

“Because I can be.” She smirked. “Y/N, why are you so damn persistent? Do you think, I mean, do you really think if Judy’s fairy godmother made her cool, she would still hang out with her dweebette friends? No way.” Sue finished the conversation, walking away swiftly.

You ran a hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh coming out of your mouth.

“Wanna go out tonight, catch a movie? Some miniature golf?” The ever-so familiar voice of Lawrence called out.

You crossed your arms, smirking at the ground. “I was thinking more along the lines of slitting Sue’s wrists open, making it look like a suicide.”

Lawrence walked up to you, rubbing your arm as he put his around your shoulder. “Now you’re talking. I could be up for that. I’ve already started underlining meaningful passages in her copy of Moby Dick, if you know what I mean. I knew you’d be back, Y/N.” He wrapped his arms around you, but you still had yours crossed. “I knew it. I was positive, I was sure.”

You lifted up your elbow, bringing it down into his stomach. “It’s over, Lawrence. Grow up!”

After a few feeble attempts of his to change your mind, you walked away, leaving him behind.

———————-

According to your parents, Lawrence stopped by the house and left you a letter. After opening the letter and revealing ‘Look familiar, sweetheart?’ in your handwriting (forged by himself), the message seemed pretty clear to you.

You rushed up to your room, only to find a doll with a tiny noose around its neck hanging from your ceiling fan.

This crazy bitch wants me to kill myself. Well, nice try, Lawrence. You don’t have a clue who you’re messing with, do you?

You laid down on your bed, curling yourself up in fetal position. Not long after, the sweet sound of the whistling wind managed to put you to sleep.

That night, you had a dream. Lawrence had shown up to your house and faked Sue’s suicide, and at her funeral, Scarlett had visited. The dream was very vague and you couldn’t remember much, but you weren’t too big on symbolism, so you decided to ignore it.

You were awakened by your mother shouting that dinner was ready. But, you decided to ignore her. If you wanted to carry out this fake sucide correctly, you couldn’t be having dinner with your parents, right? So, you went and sat down at your desk, opening your diary.

Dear Diary,

Last entry.

No one can stop Lawrence. Not the FBI, the CIA, or the PTA. He once told me that the extreme always makes an impression. Well now, it’s my turn. Let’s see how the son of a bitch reacts to a suicide he didn’t perform himself!

You slammed shut your diary, tying together one of your bed sheets into a noose.

Hanging it from your ceiling lamp, you took a deep breath before sticking your head into the loop at the bottom.

“I swear to god, if I actually die from this, I will come back and haunt every single soul that goes to my school. Dear God, please let me live,” you muttered, slowly stepping off of your bed and hanging from the noose. It hurt quite a bit, but it wasn’t enough to kill you.

You heard the sound of your window opening, but you kept quiet and let your head hang down.

“I can’t believe you did it!” Lawrence exclaimed. “I was teasing… I loved you. Sure, I was coming up here to kill you. First I was going to try and get you back with my amazing petition. It’s a shame you can’t see what our fellow students really signed.”

You heard the sound of a few paper before Lawrence spoke up again. “All right, listen–

‘We students of Westerburg High will die. Today. Our burning bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us. Fuck you all!’” He finished reading the petition.

“It’s not very subtle, but neither is blowing up a whole school, now is it? Talk about your suicide pacts, eh? When our school blows up tomorrow, it’s going to be the kind of thing to infect a generation. I mean it’s going to be a woodstock for this century! Damn it, Y/N. We could have toasted marshmallows together.”

As your mother called out for you one last time, Lawrence finally decided to leave the scene, your mother walking in on your hanging body. As she started to sputter out a few words, you lifted your arms up and untied the noose, falling back onto your bed. Your mother went silent as you gave her a smile.

“Hey, Mom, why so tense?”

—————————-

You entered the school more stressed out than you had ever been. Your search for Lawrence was shorter than you expected, as you saw him walk into the school with a duffel bag, that you could only assume carried the bomb. You followed after him, silently praying that he didn’t hear you. (which he probably wouldn’t, as he had headphones on). You were quite a ways away from him, but you lost him through the mass of students on the way there. You knew he had gone to the top floor, but you weren’t sure where.

Think, Y/N, where would a crazy psycho want to place a bomb…

A place with lots of students… we do have a pep rally today… and its held in the gym!

Eureka!

But where would he place the control for the bomb? Think, think, think…

Shit! The boiler room is under the gym, that’s the only logical place!

You rushed down to the boiler room, slamming open the door and beginning your search for Lawrence. Luckily enough, you managed to catch him.

“May I see your hall pass?” You asked, holding up the gun he had given you only mere days ago when you were dealing with Ram.

He let out a laugh. “I knew that noose was too loose. God damn you, woman.”

“Like father, like son. A serious-as-fuck bomb in the boiler room to set off a pack of thermals upstairs.” You let out a few breaths, getting closer to the boy. “Let’s start by putting the bomb down on the ground.” He gestured to the ground, where the bomb was already sitting.

You inhaled sharply, your hands shaking. “I knew that! I knew that. Put your hands on your head.”

“You didn’t say simon says.”

You raised a brow at his words, but before you knew it, you had been disarmed. He held you against the wall, taking the gun that you were previously holding and slamming it down to your temple. Darkness clouded your vision as you slid down the wall, helplessly watching as he walked off.

You weakly lifted yourself up, fighting the urge to pass out. As you finally managed to find the strength to stand up, a bright red fire extinguisher caught your eye. You grabbed it off of the wall, making your way towards Lawrence. As you neared him, your shoes squeaked against the ground, catching his attention. He turned around, about to shoot, but you slammed the extinguisher against his skull. The force managed to make him drop the gun, as the both of you scrambled towards it. Before you could reach it, he grabbed you by the shoulders and lifted you up, slamming you against the wall.

As he smirked at you, you took his minor distracted state to your advantage, kneeing him in the stomach. He lurched back at the impact, giving you a chance to run and grab the gun (which you gladly took). You picked the gun up and pointed it at the boy, but he ran away, knocking over a bunch of cans in the process. You stood up, on alert for Lawrence. As far as you knew, he could be anywhere in the boiler room. One mistake, and the lives of every kid in the school were gone.

You turned each corner warily, keeping the gun straight up. As you turned the final corner, he stood there with a knife in his hand. The diffuser was in between you two, time ticking with forty seconds till it exploded.

“You think just because you started this thing you can end it?” He shouted at you.

“I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you, I swear to god!” You threatened, the gun raised high. “How do I turn off the goddamn bomb, asshole?”

“Fuck you!” He shouted, flipping you off. You put your finger on the trigger, shooting the gun. The impact wasn’t exactly where you expected, but you let out an airy laugh as you saw his middle finger missing.

He let out a sound of pain, cursing as he dropped to the ground.

“It’s all over, Lawrence. Help me stop it!”

He struggled to breath as he covered his finger with a dirty towel he found off the ground. “You want to clean the slate as much as I do. All right, so maybe I am killing everyone in the, because nobody loves me! Let’s face it! The only place different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven.”

You furrowed your brows in anger. “Which button do I press to turn it off?”

“Try the red one, all right?”

You looked back at the timer, seeing all three buttons were red with thirty seconds left on the clock.

“Seriously, people are going to look at the ashes of Westerburg and say, now there is a school that self-destructed not because society didn’t care, but because the school was society! That’s pretty deep, huh?” He questioned, a crazed smile still on his face.

“Which red button?!” You yelled.

“Press the middle one to turn it off if that’s what you really want.”

“You know what I want, babe?”

“What?” He shouted, hastily standing up. You panicked, shooting the gun. This time, the bullet hit him in the stomach. Because of the impact, he stabbed his knife into the diffuser, the timer beginning to beep as it came to a stop. You let out a sigh of relief as Lawrence fell to the ground once more.

“I want cool guys like you out of my life.”

You walked out of the room, watching each and every one of the students cheer, none of them knowing what went on in the past two minutes. You walked away from the gym, exiting the school and taking a seat on the entrance stairs. Lawrence walked out not long after, the dirty towel now covering his stomach wound.

“Color me impressed.” He spoke out. “You– You really fucked me up pretty bad, Y/N. You um, You got power. Power I didn’t think you had. The slate is clean.” He stated the last remark, lifting up the corner of his coat to reveal a bomb. He turned it on, walking a bit away.

Looking back at you one last time, he smirked. “Pretend I did blow up the school. All the schools. Now that you’re dead, what are you gonna do with your life?”

You smirked at him, pulling a cigarette out of your pocket and sticking it in your mouth. He smirked, holding out his arms as the timer ticked away.

You pulled out a lighter, lighting your cigarette while the explosion went off. As you puffed on the cancer stick, you began to walk away from the school, not a single regret in your mind.

And that, my friends, is the story of you and Lawrence, a love story that might not go down in the books, but will be engraved in your memory for years to come. A love story that probably would have been better off not happening. A love story that you’d rather forget.

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