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megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms · 3 months

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The Strongest Cullen

Based on this request: I loved your Jasper headcanon! Could you write a fic with it? Like Jasper meets his mate, but she’s human and he’s scared he’ll hurt her because of his strong blood lust. After they get to know each other, the reader tells Jasper what she thinks(your headcanon) and that she knows he his stronger than he thinks and that he won’t hurt her.

Here you are! I apologize for the wait! Familiar characters are NEVER mine!

Fandom: Twilight

Warnings: Mentions of vampire diet(I mean, it's Twilight), Jasper is an anxious boy. Fluff!

Pairings/Characters: Jasper Hale x fem!reader, mentions of other Cullens, specifically Emmett.

Carlisle frowned at the look on his adopted son's face. While Jasper was always tense around humans at school, he had never come home looking so morose. "Jasper?" The blond looked at Carlisle and sighed. "My mate…is human." It didn't take long for Carlisle to catch the drift. "And you're worried you'll harm them?" Jasper nodded which caused Carlisle to ask about the bloodlust around the mate.

"I don't-I don't feel the need to drain her. Really, I hardly feel the bloodlust around her, but what happens if an accident happens to someone else while I'm around her? I'm the weakest link, we all know that, especially after what happened with Bella. If someone else is bleeding around us, I can't guarantee she won't be hurt as well."

Carlisle smiled a little and patted his son on the shoulder. "Jasper, I really don't think that will happen. If you don't feel the bloodlust with her, it's possible that she will actually be able to calm you. Maybe you should give her a chance. You know mates, true mates, are a rare find. You should give it a chance if that's what your heart is telling you no matter what anyone else says." Carlisle left Jasper to think on what he'd said.

*time skip*

Jasper couldn't fight his smile as you laughed after beating Emmett at Mario Kart…again. "I told you, Big Bear, you cannot beat me," you said with a giggle. Emmett pouted playfully and you leaned back into Jasper. A smile made its way to Jasper's face. He was more than happy that he gave loving you a chance. Still, he worried that something would happen to you. You were, by nature, fragile compared to him.

"What's on your mind, handsome?" you asked, carding your fingers through his hair. Jasper sighed before standing and reaching his hand out to you. You didn't hesitate even a moment in taking his hand. Jasper led you up to his room and closed the door. For a moment, Jasper said nothing. He had no idea how to approach this with you.

"Jasper? Are you okay?" you asked, looking up at him with such concern, the vampire melted. "There's something I need to tell you," he whispered. You sat down on the bed that Jasper, unbeknownst to you, had purchased simply so you would have somewhere to nap when you visited.

"Okay. You're scaring me a little so just…get it over with." Jasper chuckled a little to himself. If you were scared now, he could only imagine how scared you'd be after he told you. "I-that is-my family and I…we're not exactly normal." You snorted a little. "No shit. What's normal about being so damn beautiful it should be illegal? Or never, and I do mean NEVER eating even though your mom cooks like a gourmet chef? Or the fact that none of you look like you get any sleep? Or the fact that I'm always so calm around you?"

Jasper heard his family laughing downstairs and sighed. "Beautiful, you are not making this easy," he joked. You gave him a smile and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood a little. Whatever it is you have to tell me, I'm ready to listen."

"We're vampires." The words just came out, as easy as breathing. You blinked at him for a moment and for that moment, Jasper couldn't feel any emotion coming from you at all. It frightened him, honestly. But then as suddenly as it happened, you were back. "Vampires? O-Oh okay. Well that explains…a lot actually." Jasper couldn’t feel any fear from you. Just curiosity.

“I can feel that you have questions. Ask,” he stated. He wanted to get this over with, just in case you chose to break his heart. You pondered for a minute as Edward’s laughter drifted up to Jasper. Clearly the mind reader had heard something funny in your thoughts. “So you’ve got some vampiric powers or whatever, right?” Jasper nodded and a slight frown made your brows furrow. “Does that mean Emmett’s been letting me win Mario Kart?!”

Jasper stared for what felt like an eternity. Then, before he could stop himself, he began laughing. Really laughing for the first time in a very long time. “Really?” he asked between laughs, “I tell you to ask questions and that’s what comes to your mind?” You shrugged a little. “Look, I expect to cream your brother at video games fair and square.”

“You, Darling, are something else.” You beamed and gently tugged at his hand so he would sit down next to you. “Got you to laugh, didn’t I? Jasper, if you thought I was going to run, then you clearly don’t know me at all. We’ve been together for what, eleven months now? If you were going to hurt me, you would have already.” Jasper’s smile dropped almost instantly, but he replied, “There’s more. Some vampires have…gifts.”

“Since you’re telling me this, I assume you’re one of those vampires?” He nodded. “I am. I’m an empath. I can sense and influence anything anyone is feeling. Sometimes it even happens by accident. Edward’s a telepath.” It was in that moment your face finally showed fear, but that conflicted with what Jasper was feeling from you.

“Y-You mean Edward can read minds? Like every mind?” Jasper confirmed, but mentioned that Bella was the exception. “Oh that’s…not good.” Jasper arched a brow and smirked a little. “Don’t look at me like that. You are insanely good-looking and there may have been a few…not so innocent thoughts a time or two.” Jasper shook his head fondly and chuckled. “Really though, why are you telling me this now? Has something happened?” Jasper denied it, but replied, “It’s only a matter of time though. I-I’m not as…strong as the rest of my family when it comes to our diet.”

“Your diet?” you asked, squeezing Jasper’s cold hand a little tighter. “We feed on animals. It sustains us, but not as well as human blood. I’m newest to the diet besides Bella and have struggled the most. I’m a weak link.” Your confusion grew in an instant. “Why do you say that? Do you think you’re dangerous to me? Do you want MY blood?” Jasper immediately denied your thoughts. “No. I just need to warn you. Accidents have happened around me. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” He then proceeded to tell you what happened with Bella and you asked a few questions.

Once you’d gotten your answers, you sat in silence for a little while. Jasper felt your emotions, confusion, curiosity, love, devotion. No fear, uncertainty, or disgust. That was a good sign. “What are you thinking, Darling?” he asked after a few minutes. “I don’t think you’re weak, Jasper.” His eyes widen. Had you not heard what he said? “What?”

“Think about it,” you told him, “You’re an empath. You said yourself that animal blood doesn’t satisfy as well as human blood.” At his nod, you continued, “Well then, it stands to reason that, when Bella gave herself that paper cut, you were all feeling some form of thirst, right?” Again, Jasper agreed. You nodded like you’d just solved a great mystery.

“There you go! You weren’t just feeling your own thirst, Jas. You were feeling Alice, Emmett, Rosie’s…everyone else’s as well. The thirst of seven vampires hitting you all at once. No wonder you snapped. You are absolutely not weak, Jasper Hale. In fact, I think you’re the strongest person I have ever known.”

Your impassioned words left Jasper speechless. His eyes filled with tears that would never fall. “I don’t deserve you. You are too good for me. You understand so much more than I thought you would. You’re compassionate and brilliant and I think I…love you, Y/N,” he admitted when he felt like he could finally speak again. You beamed at him. “Nonsense. You deserve all the love I have to give. And I love you too, Jasper. Fangs and all.” He rolled his eyes as you giggled.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Twilight Tags: @awesomebooklover17

#twilight #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper x reader

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theushijimaoverlord · 2 months

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"this whole thing is a mess"

♡ tooru oikawa x reader - 1.3k ♡ warnings - none other than oikawa himself (and some ugly baby shenanigans) ♡ notes - hi! i'm purple and this is my first post, enjoy! (prompt credit from @creativepromptsforwriting)

It was a mess.

A big, tremendous, nearly-unfixable mess.

The day started off normal enough, you in your comfy gray sweat, loose shirt (that may or may not belong to Oikawa), a book you’ve been overdue to read in your hands. As your eyes scanned the pages, your attention was drawn away as you began to the thump thump thump of someone running up the stairs. And unless someone had broken into your house, you already knew who was currently making their way towards your bedroom.

As if on cue, a familiar ruffle of brunette hair came into view as said person came barreling through your door. For an athlete, it always bemuses you how Oikawa always got so winded running up your stairs.

You patiently wait for him to catch his breath. Finally, after he had decided that enough air had entered his lungs, he looked up and if you knew any better from the look in his eyes, you could already tell he was about to tell the most ridiculous thing ever. Because your boyfriend wouldn’t be doing the world justice if he were one for the dramatics.

“You would not believe what I just found out.”

Staring at him for a few seconds, you roll your eyes, close your books and turn your whole body to face him. This was gonna take a while. “Okay I’ll bite. Tell me what you found out.”

If you squint hard enough, you could almost see the joy gleaming in his eye from the fact that he caused you to turn your whole attention to him. But it quickly disappeared as he crossed the room and plopped down face first onto your bed, arms wide, and began whining.

You should convince him to take up theater.

“Come on Tooru, tell me what you came all the way up here for or I’m going back to my book,” Turning his face, Oikawa looked at you and gave his signature pout. If you called him out for it, he would vigilantly deny it.

“Did you remember when you went over to my mom's house a week ago?”

“When we visited for new years? Yeah I remember, remind me later to ask her for her mochi recipe.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you remember when the two of you decided to torture me by looking at my baby photos?” Honestly, he was the one torturing you with the way he was loudly complaining with each flip of the photo album.

If it wasn’t already obvious by the media attention, countless photo-shoot bookings, and (to his dismay) amount of fanfic being written about him, Oikawa Tooru was a very handsome man. Some might even argue (you) that the word pretty comes to mind when talking about the Argentina National Volleyball Team’s setter.

But a little secret that he had and would rather take to the grave is that he was a very, very ugly baby. At least by his standards. You have a running theory that he only thinks that way because Iwaizumi liked to taunt him about it, especially when they were younger.

“Yes Tooru, although I’ve told you pointless times that you were a very normal looking baby, I do recall looking at photos with your mom.” Reaching a hand out from under the warm blanket, you grab his hand that is closest to you and intertwine your fingers. You swear his pout lessens a little before he continued telling you about his current dilemma.

“Well I was scrolling online and you will not believe what I saw” Sitting up without disconnecting your hands, he sits on the bed, brown eyes now directly across from you.

“Well she. Posted. The. Photos.”

A beat of silence passed as he just stared at you, straight faced and serious.

And then you break eye contact by letting out a short laugh, which apparently broke a dam inside you because your free hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to suppress the fit of giggles you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Oikawa just continues to stare at you, but now he had a dumbfounded expression on his face, as if he hadn’t just told you the worst possible thing to ever happen to him. Realizing you weren’t gonna stop, Oikawa lets out a long drawn whine, closing the gap in between the two of you and throwing his arms around your body, pressing his face into your neck.

The position caused you to uncover your mouth and now the only sound filling the room was your unfiltered laughs. As much as Oikawa loved listening to the noise, he hugged you tighter hoping you would eventually stop being entertained by his misfortune.

“Why do you hate me, babe. What have I done to deserve this mistreatment?”

As your laughter finally dies down, you reach your arms around and hug him back, rubbing one palm up and down his back as the other hand carded his brown moppy hair through your fingers. Your bedroom was now engulfed by a (rare) moment of peaceful silence as you felt him breathing into your neck.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’d have a knack for always being the most dramatic person in a room” A pause before his response.

“...no” An obvious lie, but you let it slide.

“Alright, what are people saying about your photos though? Can’t be that bad”

Sitting up straight again, his arms were still wrapped around your body so he had to crane his neck to look down at you and you find yourself doing a similar motion to look up at him. If anyone else saw the two of you like this, they might find the positioning comedic.

“It’s terrible. Absolutely horrible. This whole thing is a mess. The entire world is making fun of me as we speak.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and begin searching for his mother’s post which wasn’t hard considering you closely followed her actively due to her weekly recipe post. And just as you presumed, Oikawa’s mom’s most recent post was a picture of some photos from the album the two of you looked at a few days ago.

You could tell they were pictures of Oikawa during his infant years, but only because you were able to see it in person but…. When you closely examined the post, you were astonished that anyone could even tell what the photo was off. Even though mama Oikawa had skills in the kitchen and taking pictures of the foods she makes, the woman wasn’t as skilled when photographing other things.

“Babe, literally no one can tell what this is a picture of. If I didn’t know any better, it just looks like she took a picture of a photograph of a loaf of bread and posted it.” A gasp falls from his lips, causing you to look back up at him.

“Are you saying I look like a loaf of bread? How dare you!” You are practically rendered speechless.

“No! I’m saying that unless people have seen the real thing, there is no way anyone would guess that it’s a photo of you as a baby. And I’m looking at the comment section right now, no one is saying anything about you, most people are asking what it even is.”

“What? I swear people were saying stuff” Snatching your phone, he also begins to scroll before he comes across a comment that read:

that’s the stupidest looking baby I’ve ever seen

Turning the phone to show you, he pointed at the words on the screen, giving you a wide eyed I-told-you-so look.

“See??” Looking at him, you gave Oikawa a blank stare.

“Tooru, Hajime is that one who commented that” Flipping the screen back around, his eyes quickly scan for the person who typed out the atrocious words and staring right back at him is Iwa-chan’s username, and profile pic of the gym he worked at.

“Oh”

Pondering his existence, Oikawa almost misses the snort you let out if it wasn’t for the explosion of laughter you let out.

Again

♡ hello! thank you for finishing my first work, i hope you enjoyed it. i would love any type of constructive criticism, either in regard of my writing, theme, or anything else

♡ i took a lot of my inspiration from @adoringhaikyuu, especially when creating my theme so i wanted to give them credit, and i completely recommend their work so go check them out

♡ thank you (again) and warmest regards, ms. purple

#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haiykuu #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fluff #tooru oikawa #haikyuu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x f!reader #oikawa tooru fluff #ms.purple♡writes

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

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AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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tennessoui · 7 months

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I'm begging on my hands and knees for more Twilight au, and those are words I never thought I'd say! Anakin being able to resist compulsion, and Obi-Wan seeming instantly obsessed, and poor Shmi! Pretty please 🥺🙏

hey!! sure! here's some more!

(2.5k)

Having a sheriff for a mom sucked a lot when he was a kid growing up in a small town. There was probably nothing Anakin was rebelling against more at eleven, at thirteen, at seventeen than the rule of law his mother represented.

All things considered, she was pretty good at separating her home life from her worklife. It was Anakin who was bad at respecting the separation, Anakin who couldn’t keep son out of delinquent. There’s only so many times he could be pulled out of wreckage and bars and buildings with Keep Out No Trespassing signs on them before he got The Sheriff at home and out in public.

He’d hated it growing up and had come to grudgingly respect it later and in fits and starts. His dad dying had, terribly and ironically, helped a lot. His mother had had a stroke just before and then Anakin had been faced with the possibility of being an orphan, and the terror of that had mellowed him out.

Sorta.

He still hates a lot of things about his mother’s job. Especially the fact that she’s the sheriff of a very small town.

And when people talk, she listens.

The thing about small towns is that everyone’s always fucking talking. And other people are always fucking lsitening so they can talk later. One big fucking community, which means when Anakin comes home from his weird doctor’s appointment with Dr. Kenobi, a few hours later because he took a detour biking along the edge of the seaside cliffs just to spit in the good doctor’s metaphorical face, Shmi Skywalker already knows more than Anakin ever planned to tell her.

Like, for instance, “Sheila says that Dr. Kenobi thought it would behoove you to spend some time at the local library volunteering.”

Anakin pauses, backpack half-slung off his shoulders. He hangs his stuff up slowly, careful to keep his tone very light. “Did Sheila say what I told him after he said that?”

His mom’s silence is very loud.

“I don’t want to do i—”

“I asked the new librarian about it on my way home from the station. She thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Apparently we used to have a program like that in the forties but it died out during the war.”

“Mom, come on—”

“It’ll look good on resumes, saying you created and supported a local reading program.”

“Yeah, but I’m a bit too old to be applying for babysitting positio—”

“It’ll look good for me as well,” Shmi says in her sheriff voice. “Elections are coming up soon. It’ll be good, if my kid was involved in the community.”

Anakin’s glad that his back is still turned to the living room, where his mom is sitting. “Are you gonna run again?” he asks, paying special attention to his tone this time.

“Why wouldn’t I?” his mom replies. “I’ve been sheriff for a decade and a half.”

Anakin lets his eyes fall closed for a second, knowing that his face can’t be seen. This is how they end up half the time: Shmi’s ardent belief that she is invincible, going up against Anakin’s desperate desire for her to be so.

And they just don’t talk about it. As if they’re actually in agreement.

He knows how this is going to shake out.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” His mother asks.

Anakin’s eyes remain closed. “I guess so,” he says.

—--------

Mrs. Kenobi—call me Satine—is sort of scary up close. She’s tall. She glides between bookshelves. Anakin’s never met someone who glides before. And she’s so intensely, incredibly, blindingly perfect that Anakin would rather be anywhere but in her vicinity. There’s something incredibly unnerving about the symmetry of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’s obviously an absolute knock-out, just drop-dead gorgeous, but it makes Anakin’s skin crawl and his heart beat fast, but not in a good way or a normal teenage boy way.

Anakin tries to keep the unease off his face as Satine leads him through a tour of the library, a gentle hand on his forearm. That’s another thing Anakin doesn’t really like. She’s wearing satin gloves. He doesn’t know anyone who wears gloves anymore.

It’s just all a bit…unsettling.

“I put in a few words around the school yesterday afternoon,” Satine tells him. They pass by the mystery section, the fantasy section, and take a hard right into the young adult section. The shelves are smaller here, and Anakin feels rather stupidly gigantic as he and Satine walk through them. “To some parents picking their children up after school. They agreed it would be good exposure to bring them to the library for an hour or so of reading before supper.”

Anakin highly doubts it will be, but Satine hasn’t really asked him.

She sweeps past his figure and pushes open a pair of double doors with a flourish better suited for a Russian tsarina hosting an elaborate ball than a small town librarian showing off a small, cramped, and dusty room filled with padded seats and threadbare rugs.

And then, as if she has been waiting to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin, Satine adds, “A few students from the local high school will be here as well.”

“Sorry,” Anakin says, “are you saying I’m going to be reading to high school students? Can’t they do that themselves?”

After all, Anakin went to high school here. Academics hadn’t been too rigorously challenging, but they’d taught the fucking basics.

Satine raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction. “They’ll be volunteering as well.”

Oh. Right.

“It looks good on their college applications,” Satine waves a hand through the air and the words linger there. Anakin looks out the rather dirty window, jaw clenching. “I’ve already chosen a handful of books I think the young ones will enjoy.”

Anakin, committed to his fate, pads over to the titles placed carefully ontop of a short, stout side table.

“Peter the Rabbit,” he reads off the top. “Peter Pan. Alice in Wonderland. Treasure Island. The Prince and the Pauper—look, you’re the librarian here, but don’t you have anything written this century maybe? Harry Potter, even.”

“These are classics,” Satine tells him, her nose raised into the air as if she has encountered something particularly foul-smelling. She turns away, presumably to return to the front desk so she can welcome half the fucking town inside the library so Anakin can read them fucking Anne of Green Gables and become a better person.

“These are fucking boring,” he mutters to himself, flicking the cover of the first book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz open. Publication date: 1900. “I’d rather be in Kenobi’s office getting lectured at.”

There’s a sharp noise of disapproval from the doorway, and Anakin’s head snaps up to see the tail end of a very heated look from the librarian before the door closes behind her.

He shivers, alone in the emply room, and it takes several long minutes for his heart to settle back into its normal pace.

—----------

After the fourth kid sneezes, Anakin closes his book with a snap and stands from the very small chair they’ve got him sitting on. “Come on,” he tells the cluster of children he’s been assigned to. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Are you kidnapping us?” One of them, a snot-nosed kid who’d started the sneezing says, rubbing at her cheek beneath her glasses. “Cause mommy says that’s not allowed.”

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Anakin snaps back, barely holding in his natural follow-up to the sentence which is of course, I don’t want to be around any of you in the first place. “Also, just for future reference, you shouldn’t ask if someone’s kidnapping you after you already start following them.”

The girl scowls and reaches up her hand to hold onto Anakin’s.

For the love of Christ.

“We’re just going to go into the main part of the library,” Anakin tells his children, all six of them. “They have windows out there.”

They have windows out there and they also have parents. Parents who absolutely should be doing other things with their lives and precious hour of extra freetime.

Parents who are clustered instead around the library’s front desk as the town’s newest librarian holds court.

“Is reading time over?” one of the kids asks him, turning his head to look up at Anakin.

Anakin thinks about it. “Do you want reading time to be over?”

The kid thinks about it back. “Yeah,” he decides. “You don’t do the voices good.”

“It’s a boring book,” Anakin tells the kid. “Voices aren’t going to make it better.”

“Voices always make it better,” another kid says. “They make everything better.”

“Oh look,” Anakin says. “Is that your father?”

He gestures vaguely towards the cluster of drooling middle-aged somethings focused on Satine.

The kid peeks around his thigh and then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That’s Dr. Obi.”

“Dr. Obi!” The kid holding Anakin’s hand says, and she lets go.

Anakin gets a bad feeling about this, a feeling that only doubles when he turns around to see Dr. Kenobi sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the pockets of a long dark jacket that makes him look even more pale than he already is.

He scowls automatically as the man gets closer. “Dr. Obi.”

Dr. Kenobi spares him a look that’s far too amused for Anakin’s pleasure before he crouches down to the level of the kids. “Hello there, young ones,” he says, opening his arms to accept a hug from the traitor of a girl Anakin’s just spent thirty minutes reading to. “Are you eating all your vegetables? Even the brussel sprouts?”

“I like brussel sprouts,” one of the kids reports sounding proud, and that starts a cacophony of opinions about brussel sprouts from all around Anakin.

“Wow! One of mine just absolutely hates them,” Dr. Kenobi says. “She refuses to eat them, so you’re very brave, Michele.” He lets go of the girl and turns his golden-brown gaze up to Anakin. “And what does Mr. Skywalker think?” he asks, raising a hand for Anakin to take. It’s very obvious he’s asking for a hand up and Anakin is obeying before he thinks about it. He snatches his hand free almost too soon, but Dr. Kenobi doesn’t even have the grace to lose his balance and fall over.

His hand is like ice in Anakin’s, and Anakin stuffs his fingers into the pocket of his jacket automatically a second later.

“Do brussel sprouts help with circulation?” he’s biting out before he can stop himself. “Cause you may need some then.”

Kenobi’s head tilts very slightly to the side as his eyes catch and hold onto Anakin’s. “Oh?” he asks lightly.

“You’re cold,” is all Anakin mutters in return. He swipes his other hand against the back of his neck. “”S poor circlutation, isn’t it? Something in your diet maybe?” Dr. Kenobi blinks at him and then breaks into a wide smile. “I can assure my diet is very…circulation-mindful,” he says. “Blood health positive.”

Anakin’s mouth thins into a line. He guesses that’s what he gets for trying to give health advice to a doctor, especially a doctor like Kenobi who just so happens to be devastatingly attractive and also smart.

And also an asshole. And also married.

Speaking of which. “Are you here to fend off your wife’s admirers with a scalpel?” Kenobi’s eyebrows raise. “Young ones,” he turns his head away from Anakin, down to the children.

The strangest feeling breaks of Anakin the second Kenobi looks away, almost as if a strange pressure he hadn’t even realized had been building was suddenly dissolved.

The very small beginnings of a headache begin to thrum in his temples.

“Young ones, it’s time to find your parents, isn’t it?” Kenobi says, and like fucking magic, the crowd of six children around Anakin disperse, children swarming away from him towards the group of adults surrounding the front desk.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Anakin blurts out, even though he’d meant to ignore Kenobi now that he doesn’t have to make nice in front of small kids. Not that he was really making nice in the first place. But now he definitely doesn’t have to.

Kenobi gives him a half-smile, eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s a special sort of skill that takes, above all else, much practice.”

Anakin scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Does Kenobi think he can’t commit himself to something even as mundane as a fucking commanding persona? Does he think he doesn’t have it in him to be–-

Kenobi’s eyebrows go up again. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exceedingly defensive?”

“You’re extremely nosey,” Anakin snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have better things to focus on right now anyway?”

He gestures loosely towards Satine, who has started playing with one of the mother’s bracelets as the other woman stands and looks at her rather dumbfounded.

Kenobi follows his gaze and then lets out a huff of laughter. “Satine can take care of herself,” he says, even though it hadn’t really been Satine that Anakin was worried about.

He’s about to open his mouth to say so when Kenobi turns back to him. His eyes are piercing, a dark, captivating sort of gold.

“Do you find my wife beautiful, Anakin?” he asks.

Anakin blinks. His headache is getting worse, which is probably down to what can only be a trick-question fashioned to look like a grenade lobbed at his feet. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that,” he mutters, rubbing absently at his forehead. “What the fuck.”

“An honest answer is a good one,” Kenobi says lightly. “Tell me honestly.”

The words feel pulled from Anakin’s stomach, and he’s opening his mouth before he realizes it. “No,” he says.

Kenobi’s eyebrows crinkle together. “No?”

Anakin curses his stupid impulse control. “She’s beautiful,” he adds quickly. “Really. But…it makes me uncomfortable.”

Kenobi’s lips purse, and then there’s something like disappointment in his eyes as he examines Anakin. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “I’ve been told my wife can make countless young men feel rather uncomfortable. It’s normal in men your age, Anakin. Sexual ar—”

“Uncanny,” Anakin blurts out. He doesn’t mean to, but he also doesn’t want to listen to Kenobi trying to lecture him on fucking arousal in the public library. When it’s not even relevant. “She’s so beautiful, it’s uncanny.”

“Uncanny.”

“Yeah, like. Monstrous.”

Kenobi’s mouth falls open, pink lips parted in what looks like honest surprise.

Anakin’s own eyes widen as it hits him that he’s just called Kenobi’s wife a monster to Kenobi’s face.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m going to go.”

He throws a look at Kenobi, whose eyes are lit with something a lot like interest and then across the library to where Satine’s head is turned, cocked, and eyebrows up high on her forehead, as if she’s just heard everything he’s said.

He decides rather immediately that he’s going to take the backdoor exit.

#asks #twilight au #obikin #a couple of things:#all the books mentioned are published before 1920 because satine was probably a young mother around that time #imo she became a vampire during ww1 #brussel sprouts tasted very bitter in the 60s through the 90s before we tweaked how they were grown genetics wise #so kids used to hate them and one of the vampires in obi-wan's coven was a kid during the 60s so has strong memories of brussel sprouts #being awful #satine's special vampire power is her beauty which is like double that of the normal enthralling/alluring/perfect predator beauty #so anakin's own sort of immunity to vampire powers a la bella means he just finds it unnerving and uncanny #but he did fall prey to obi-wans mind trick at the end there because the immunity thing i think would be something he has to practice #to get strong at #so his immunity kicked in at satine's beauty and it didn't affect him #but he couldn't also effectively protect himself from obi-wan's mind compulsion #to tell the truth #because systems overloaded

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hobisstar · 7 months

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What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader Part II

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol.

Jungkook at this point was flying down the highway, where could yn be at this late?

He was confused really. He told her, never go into his office. Why would she disobey him?

He remembers that the coffee shop she works at is open late so maybe she’s there.

Yn was frightened the things she saw in that dark room where not normal to have.

“ You look so shocked, yn. I’m sorry you had to find out about that side of him. I should’ve told you sooner but I was scared he would hurt you or me,” Seokjin, her best friend since childhood, sat down her warm tea she ordered on his island.

“Does he know you are here?” Shaking her head, no, she sighed out of fright. “ I just can’t get the pictures out my head. Who were those people? Why was he hurting them? Why was he taking pictures of me… like that? I’m so scared, Jin.”

He tired comforting her but not knowing if that would work.

“ I really should’ve told you sooner, Yn.”

The only reason that Jin knows about it is because he’s seen Jungkook physically harm someone back when Jin used to work with him at the flower shop. It’s how Jungkook and Yn met each other 5 years ago.

Around that time, he wasn’t obsessed with anyone but Jin always would see the look he had in his eyes.

That darkness in his eyes, it was filled with brutal acts, the one thing that was the scariest was that he never killed them at first.

He would torture them, slowly, saying things like you made me harm you with your dumb ass acts.

He was pure evil and there was no saving him.

Jin thought maybe if he introduced someone so beautiful, peaceful, pure and quite literally a flower, he would stop these acts.

He did at first, but then they only got worst.

When yn would stop by the flower shop, Dropping them both off some coffee of some sort and leave back out. Costumers would simply smile at her and send a nice hello gesture her way.

Jungkook didn’t like that.

In fact, one older guy said hello to her as she was leaving, even held the door for her.

Later that day during closing, Jin saw Jungkook brutal beat that poor man to a bloody mess. He intervened and told Jungkook to leave him be he’s already not moving.

He was willing to kill a man simply for saying hello to yn.

“ Why didn’t you tell me?” Yn questioned looking at him. “ You weren’t going to believe me, Yn. You would’ve assumed I was jealous of the relationship and brushed it off.So I told myself, when she finds out for herself, I’ll tell everything I know about him” Jin sighed and sat back against the couch.

“Was he always like this?” Looking at him as she sipped on her tea, feeling a little relaxed.

“Since I met him? Yeah, he’s always been off. I thought he just needed someone to love and someone to love him. He grew up without his mom or his dad, he was back and forth from foster care and foster homes. Unfit child. That’s what his records say. I only know this because my father worked with him when he was younger when my dad used to work in the foster care facility. I’m sorry I even introduced you two. The worst decision of my life. He won’t hurt you though, he would rather hurt himself than hurt you.”

Yn decided to go back to the apartment after some time. Jin promised her that Jungkook loves her way too much to hurt her she was safe for now, at least.

She unlocked the door seeing the lights still on and Bam peacefully back on the couch sleeping.

Sighing she grabbed her phone seeing the missed text messages and missed calls from Jungkook and her sister.

sister : yn where the hell are you?

Did you tell Kook you are with me?

He’s looking for you?

Are you at work?

Hello?

yn pls answer

She sighed again and called her sister back. “ What the fuck yn! Where have you been? Jungkook is worried sick! Did you guys have a fight or something?” “ Somewhat. I was with Jin but just to calm down. I’m back at home now. Did Jungkook call you or something?” Yn already knew he called her, I mean she did say she was with her. “ Yeah he did, it wasn’t long though. Get some sleep and call me tomorrow okay? I’ll come pick you up so we can hang out and talk all about it. Love you” her sister hung up and yn put her phone down and cuddled with Bam.

“ what do i do Bam? I have to go, I can’t stay with someone so dangerous.” She whispered petting his head.

As if on cue Jungkook came into the house and he smiled happily. “ There you are! I was worried baby~”

Smiling hard he took his jacket off and sat down on the other side of the couch, he tried touching her leg but she moved it.

Yn sat up and looked at him. “ Are you hiding something from me, Jeon?” She knows questioning him wasn’t right. But she needed him to say.

She needed to hear him say what exactly those photos were. She needs to hear it.

He tilted his head to the side, looking at Bam then the floor. “ Ah, I got a new tattoo and got a haircut-,” “ Jungkook, are you hiding something?” She repeated Scooting back.

“Why are you asking me-,” “ I saw the room Jungkook. I saw those… photos.”

He sighed and stood up, “ You went in my office?why-,” cutting him off again she shouted “ Why do you fucking care if I went in there or not? That’s not the problem! The problem is why do you have those photos Jungkook?”

At this point she started crying out of anger.

“It’s just art, Princess. I swear that’s all it is,” Jungkook was starting to panic on the inside. “That’s not fucking art! You have photos of you torturing people like it was that fucking Saw movie!” He sat back down and ran his hair through his hair.

“ okay. Okay” he tried to calm himself down ready to admit the truth. “ It is art, to me. It’s a hobby I have. I know I know it’s not a good one but I promise I don’t do it often.” He looked up at her moving a little closer, “ I’ve only did it once since we’ve been together, baby. Well, I’ve only killed once since we’ve been together.” Looking at her still he watched her tears drop down her face onto Bams head.

“ Who are those people, Jungkook?” She whispered feeling herself becoming unwell. “Baby” he started and yn just shook her head, “ Tell me, Jungkook, just please tell me.”

He didn’t want to. Why does she care about the people that has talked to her. People who have flirted with her, touched her, looked at her, even brushed passed in her in stores without saying sorry.

“ Those people are people who has looked at you the way only I can look at you, but baby they don’t matter. No no see only we matter, yeah? They deserved it.” He saw her stand up and he went to defense mode.

“ You hurt those strangers because of them simply glancing at me?”

Fear. He sees it in her eyes. He knows the look of fear. He never wanted to see it on her.

Jungkook started rapidly shaking his head. “No no, baby, no. Don’t look at like that. Don’t look at me like you are scared of me. Please I don’t want you to be scared of me, princess.”

“ the photos of me… why are you developing photos of me? Weird photos…”

“I want to remember you always baby that’s all. I won’t do it again if you don’t like it.”

Pondering. Yn knew that leaving would probably make him upset and start crying, possibly raging. She needed time though.

“ I think we should take a break,” “ No. absolutely not. you aren’t going.” He instantly answered.

“Just for tonight, Kook.” She tried to wipe her face from the tears but Jungkook grabbed her face shaking his head.

“ No baby, whatever I did to upset you I can fix it. Yeah we can fix it baby there is no need to leave. I won’t let you.”

“whatever you did? Jungkook you are hurting people, and that’s hurting me. I can’t stay here.” She took his hands off her face and grabbed her phone and purse heading to the door.

“ yn, if you fucking walk out that door, I promise I’ll kill Jin and Your sister. I’ll watch them fucking suffer if you leave me,” he walked up behind her grabbing her purse out her hand and throwing it on the couch.

“ You are gonna leave me and your child, Bam, Alone again?”

Without waiting on an answer he picked her up and began to take her to his office. Yn was trying hard to not go in there, she held onto the door frame, screaming and putting her weight down, but sadly jungkook won this fight with an over powering push which sent her stumbling into the office floor.

He looked at her and sighed. He closed the door and locked it from the outside.

“ Jungkook!” She kicked at the door and hit it a couple of times. “ Let me out, Jeon!” Screaming through the door still trying to open it, “ Fuck!” She let out a cry.

“ You disobeyed me and tired to leave to go to that punk bitch. You’ll stay in there until morning! Get some rest baby. Good night.”

Jungkook walked away from the door, the sounds of yn banging never lowering.

To be continued…

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook #spooktober #jungkook yandere #jungkook ff #jeon jungguk #bts ff #jungkook yandere series

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itsfairly · 7 months

Text

A Culture of Our Own // Nanami Kento x Latine! F! Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: Intercultural dating is still pretty difficult. But you make it work with Nanami. Today, you do it through music.

Notes: sfw, fluff, f!reader, established relationship, Latine! reader (though it's more Mexican-leaning), intercultural relationship and all that, self-indulgent, Spanish, no translations, not proofread.

A/N: Please note that this is more from my experience, it is also highly self-indulgent. And that is because Nanami is my man, sorry about that. Anyways, also HAPPY LATINO HERITAGE MONTH. this is for us y'all, i did my best for the community. I wanted it to uploaded it on the 15th, but life happened. But hey, I still uploaded this before the month ended, so it's a win.

Dating becomes interesting when you add culture into the mix. Did you think you would end up dating a Japanese man? Especially after a lifetime of your mother asking you to be with someone who spoke Spanish? No. But life had a way to play with you and a way to be nice to you.

Just look at him. Nanami Kento. Someone who was just as handsome on the outside as sweet as they were on the inside. So respectful, so breathtaking, and so dreamy. No one even came close to how much this man makes your heart jump at the sight of him. No, he might not know your native language. But he certainly made you happy and content at his side.

Of course, eventually, you start to explain your cultures outside of the common knowledge and general facts like holidays and etiquette. You start getting into pop culture and what is normally taken for granted in your culture. It's a slow process considering how spontaneous the conversation can be.

From "What does that mean?" when using slang to an inside joke your culture has, little reoccurrences become opportunities to learn more about each other. Sure, you might not be able to fully explain something or understand it, but it doesn't take away that you two start to weave your cultures into the relationship and mix them into one that becomes intrinsic to your dynamic.

Today, you had one of those occurrences when you were cleaning your place and he just happened to come early. When he knocks on the door, you let him in without missing a beat despite being in your full-on cleaning outfit and playlist. A playlist that consisted of old songs your mom used to play when she cleaned such as Bésame Mucho, La Mentira, Si Una Vez, and such. Real classics obviously.

Classics he's not familiar with.

"You're early." You noted with a smile, walking over to your phone and pausing your music.

He looks down at his watch, seeing that he is actually on time. He remembers how much you joke about your family being late to everything or how time is just really abstract for you after years of being told ahorita. A word that could mean anything between 5 minutes to two hours. He chuckles at your words, agreeing with you that he was early for you. The different perception in time between the two of you could be weird at times, but it never really brought many problems considering that both of you (you mostly) put in the effort to accommodate for it.

"Is there something wrong with wanting to see my partner a little early?" He asks, a small smile coming to his face as he walks closer to you, leaving a small kiss on your forehead.

You smile, happy to feel his lips on you once more. "No, but you're seeing me in the most typical way a Latina looks when cleaning. I don't need that image in your mind.

He looks up and down, trying to see this look you're talking about. Sure, you had baggier clothes and your hair was in a bun with a few hairs sticking out and decorating your face. He hums, brushing those hairs back behind your ears.

"I think you're exaggerating considering that we've dated for a while." He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking when he sees that you really think you look messy or bad for just wearing something more comfortable when cleaning. Nothing wrong with that and definitely not making you look ugly in his eyes.

"Still, what if you caught me mid-performance? This playlist doesn't play around, alright? It's classic after classic."

Nanami laughs softly, seeing how serious your face is with your words telling him that you mean every word. Though, now that he thinks about it, he doesn't recognize the songs from the small snippet he heard through the door to the moment you paused the songs. It makes him curious about them.

"Classics?"

You nod before taking your phone and standing by his side to show him your playlist. It is after a couple of swipes down that you realize he can't even read the titles of the songs since they are in Spanish.

"In Latin America." You clarify, getting an idea. You hand him your phone, tilting your head down as to give him permission. "Choose one, we'll put it on right now while I change my clothes."

He takes the phone and raises a brow as he tries to gauge the unfamiliar songs. "I don't even know what I am reading, dear." He deadpans, making you chuckle.

"Then choose one randomly." You say, guiding him to your bedroom so you can pick your clothes.

He looks at the phone, looking through the album covers of the song. He recognizes some of the artists that are part of mainstream pop culture, Shakira being the easiest to recognize. Yet, his finger presses onto a song that he doesn't recognize at all.

But you do and it's obvious from the way you slowly turn to look at him and instantly melt into a light sway of your hips to match the song's slow and romantic rhythm.

"I always knew you were a romantic at heart but I didn't know it came naturally to you." You tease, taking out a shirt and jeans that were much more suitable to go out than the baggier and frankly unflattering clothes. "Let alone that, but you also chose a classic among classics."

Sabor A Mi. Now that's a real gem across Latin America and generations. Guitar strings fill the air with a romantic and sensual sense that warms up the room while the yearning lyrics are contracted by the singer's soft whispers. More than a classic, it's romance 101 in music.

"I take it I chose a good one then." He hums, placing the phone on your nightstand, turning around to face away from you as you change. To him, even if you dated for quite a while now, that didn't give him a right to look. Even if you insisted there was no problem and that you didn't mind, he still turned around out of respect for you. No matter how many times he has seen you out of those clothes, he still wanted to be the gentleman that you first met.

The pure intention made you smile and the song amplified those butterflies in your stomach.

Quickly changing out and into your clothes, you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and placing your chin on his shoulders. As you begin to sway on the spot with the music, you whisper, "A great one."

He's quick to follow your lead, letting you set the rhythm you have become so used to dancing after a lifetime of hearing boleros like this one. He doesn't have to understand the lyrics to understand how intimate the song is. The guitar strings and soft melodies tell him that enough. Enough to pull you closer to him as you two sway to the song.

He looks down at him, your head now against his shoulder with your eyes closed. He can see how relaxed your face is, the sun sweeping through your window and occasionally hitting your face with its light just enough to decorate your features. If his heart was struck by you once before, this moment served as a reminder of that.

"It's a nice song." He says softly, his hand running down your arm until it finds your hand. He entwines his fingers with yours.

You hum, looking up at him and lifting your head off his shoulder. "You certainly know how to choose them." You tease, stretching your arm as you separate your body from his, your hands connecting the two of you as you hold the other's.

He sees you smile, brightly and softly in a way that tugs his heart. God, you were so pretty. Plucked strings encourage him to pull you closer once more, seeing you spin until his arm is wrapped around you and your back meets his chest with a giggle.

God, he was so lucky to have you.

"I do." He wasn't talking about the song.

The song ends but you two continue to dance. Swaying and spinning in your bedroom without a care in the world. How could a match this heavenly happen against all odds? When neither of you thought you would date someone from a culture so different from your own?

Neither of you thought about that. Not right now when you were dancing so gently and oh so passionately at the same time. No words exchanged, just smiles and hums. Maybe a kiss here and there that either managed to steal. But words? No, just your phone playing songs about love you never thought you would live.

Oh, how wrong were you.

How wrong were you to think that when this moment showed that you were not only loving and being loved, but you were doing so in the way these songs made you feel. It was a dream. It was luck. It was a movie. It was music. It was him. Him.

"Please send me these songs later." He says, breaking the silence.

"You're gonna study these later?" You tease, chuckling at the idea of Nanami listening to songs he doesn't know what they are about.

"Maybe." He chuckles, lifting your hand as he spins you around. "You said they were classics, didn't you? I have to know about them if we're going to keep dancing like this."

You smile at him. After so many people were disinterested and even critical of your culture to the point that you felt like having to keep it private, he wanted it to be included in your relationship. Even celebrate it in a way. Why does it even come as a surprise when he always looked at you in awe whenever you spoke Spanish? Even if he didn't know what you said, he would always have this curiosity towards that part of you that was once criticized.

Nanami knew how to love you, but now it was clear that he knew how to love the culture you were so in love with too.

"You're right. You have quite the content to go over then. So do I. Not only do I have to go over Japanese culture, I also have to study a bit of Danish, don't I?"

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him and letting you two become one with the music once more. The world melting away with just the two of you existing in this very room.

Yeah, there are bumps in the road. Misunderstandings and uncertainties that could sour what you two had. But it never did. Not when he was so patient in sharing and learning. Not when you were so excited to know more and explain what made you you. Culture could be tricky, but for the two of you, it was what made your relationship so enjoyable. You may have had different upbringings but you were still similar enough to work well together.

Though it was something the two of you already knew, it was something that was confirmed to Nanami once he translated the song he just happened to choose by chance earlier today. Our souls have become close enough that I keep your flavor and you keep mine all well. It was funny how a song he just happened to tap on happened to describe why you two worked so well. You had different cultures that entwined together once you became a couple, having pieces of each other's culture embedded into the other.

He thought it was just a wonderful idea that it became one of his favorite songs that you've shown him.

Dating someone from another culture is interesting, scary even. But life was kind to you and let you meet Nanami, someone with whom you could unapologetically share your culture knowing that it would be as cherished as every other part of you. Someone who made it easy to share both cultures until you created your own. A unique culture that was both him and you.

A culture that tasted of both you and him because of how much you loved each other and stayed by your side.

Neither of you would have it another way.

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serenity-songbird · 2 years

Note

hi i hope ur doing good, i have a south park request for main 4(Kenny,cartman,Stan, and kyle obv) where even though theyre young the reader started puberty already and developed fast? i dont mean to make it seem sexual i just mean like maybe the boys feel embarrased talking to her? lol sorry if this doesnt make sense i just rlly like the way u write🥲 and also i would like seperate pls and platonic or romantic, whatever u want and also the reader a girl pls. Sorry if u are uncomfortable with any of this thats perfectly okay if u are so just feel free to ignore this then. and thank u either way for taking the time to read this even if u dont do it! have a good day or night, and make sure to rest, drink plenty of water and eat food!❤️

(There's no reason to be uncomfortable. I think the concept is cute. Don't worry. I'm also drinking more water and eat fine. Thank you! 💜💜💜)

I really hope you can tolerate being puked on...

Because it is going to happen a lot...

He's super embarrassed about it.

Avoids you for a while.

In the end his mother had to explain it.

He asks his father for advice...but it's not good advice.

"Stan, never ever piss off a woman on her period. They get scary and mean."

Did not help his internal conflict.

After that, he apologizes and stops avoiding you.

"Sorry. I had no idea that you have to go through this every month."

He really tries to understand. Though He still doesn't get it completely.

He will sneak peaks at your growing chest. (Respectively of course).

He'll get you snacks and anything you need.

You'll have to tell him what to get first before he leaves.

Because the first time, he came back with diapers thinking that was what you needed.

He's a sweetheart.

A confused and anxiety filled one because of his dad's "advice."

But a sweetheart nonetheless.

He takes it more mature than the others.

I mean, he does get embarrassed at first.

Like, were you always this pretty?

Doesn't know how to approach you.

He will ask his mom for advice, awkwardly.

Once his mother explains it, he feels bad of all the pain women go through monthly.

"Hey, my mom told me all about what girls go through during puberty. I'm sorry about being awkward before. I got you some items that may help."

Will do research on ways to remedy the pain and what products you might need.

He has Ibuprofen, hot pads, and your favorite snacks in his locker in case you need it.

This man chugs his Respect Women Juice.

And if Cartman shits on you for hitting puberty, he'll beat his ass.

Kyle is your right hand man and he helps you feel less awkward.

Will still include you in groups activities with the boys and breaks the tension.

Ignores Cartman's complaints.

You appreciate his efforts in trying to understand.

While he might not get it completely, he knows enough to make you feel comfortable and normal.

You are grateful for him.

He doesn't get weirded out or awkward about it like the others.

In fact, he's excited.

Not about the bleeding. Gross.

More so on the fact that you were developing a bigger chest and wider hips.

As we all know, Kenny is very perverted.

So of course he'll try and flirt with you.

Like Kyle, he also does research, but in secret.

He doesn't change the way he acts around you for the most part.

Except for the fact that he offers to give you hip, shoulder, or back massages.

He claims it helps with the cramps, which it does in a sense.

But you know he just wants to cop a feel.

"Are your boobs sore again? Let me hold them for you."

You politely decline.

All perverted jokes aside, he really does try to help you out when you're on your period.

Like, you gotta go through that shit every month?! That sucks ass!

Will offer peace offerings like flowers he picked up from the ground or some origami project that will make you smile.

(He can't really buy you anything).

The fact that Kenny doesn't make it weird for you is relieving.

You may or may not let him massage your shoulders since it feels nice.

ONLY the shoulders.

He is the literal worst out of the four.

Like, he does NOT take it well.

"Ewww gross! You're bleeding!? Get away from me!"

Will avoid you like the plague.

Literally believes that periods are contagious.

Kyle did beat his ass a few times for his remarks he kept making.

Absolutely loses his SHIT if you were to accidentally brush against him or touch him.

Cries to his mom saying he's now going to bleed every month now.

His mom had to sit him down and explain to him what puberty Is like for woman. And that boys can't get periods.

He is relived and just utterly DISGUSTED.

Eventually will stop avoiding you.

But when it's that time of the month, he will throw snacks to you, so you can get your mood swings away from him.

You're pissed, but still accept the free food.

I mean come on, who'll deny free sweets?

It takes a while for things to get back to normal.

He will start making snide comments here and there.

Overall, -10/10 reaction.

#south park #south park x reader #sp style #south park headcanons #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #eric cartman #kenny mccormick #kyle x reader #stan marsh x reader #cartman x reader #kenny x reader

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fangirlwriting-stories · 4 months

Text

Dam Still Holding

Summary: After patching Danny up from a nasty fight, Tucker spends the night to make sure he's okay.

Author's Note: Fun fact, I did originally write this for seasons skirmish, but then I'd realized I'd gotten away from the prompt too much for it to fit, so I'm gonna take another crack at that prompt, and you all can expect another short Danny Phantom fic sometime in the near future, but for now have this!

...

Tucker wakes with a panicked gasp, which is just unfair, honestly. Sure, he has the aversion to hospitals and medical procedures, but Danny was the one who had to have a giant gash in his chest sewn up, and Danny’s snoring away in the bed next to him.

Tucker drops his head onto his knees and takes a deep breath. Danny’s the one who got hurt, and Danny’s fine, he shouldn’t be reacting like this. But he can still feel his hands shaking as he threads the needle, and knowing that he has to steady them or he’s just going to make things worse for Danny, who’s lying unconscious in front of him. He remembers wishing that he’d told Sam no, she actually can’t go on that family vacation, he knows she’ll hate it anyway please stay here he needs her, he’s going to need her because Danny’s about to get himself torn open again in another ghost fight and Tucker can’t help with that he’s terrible at it—

Tucker takes a couple staggering deep breaths, and apparently it’s loud enough to wake Danny, because he feels a hand on his arm and a gentle voice saying “Tucker?”

Tucker lifts his head to find Danny looking at him, obvious concern on his face. As soon as he sees Tucker, his frown deepens, and he reaches over and wraps his arms around him. “Hey, I’m okay,” he murmurs.

Tucker pulls Danny in closer with a mumbled “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Danny says.

“No, I mean, you’re the one who got hurt,” Tucker says.

“Hey, you’ve never done this before,” Danny says. “I’m used to patching myself up.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Danny shrugs and gives a sad smile.

“I’m alright,” he says. “Heart still beating and everything. Well, half the time.” He gives a lopsided smile to Tucker, and succeeds in making him laugh.

“How do you do that all the time?” Tucker asks. “With the blood and the disinfectants and the needles. And I’m not even in pain.”

“I just got used to it I guess,” Danny says again. “And it doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.”

Tucker gives him a disbelieving look.

“Really,” Danny says. “The scale’s kind of… adjusted, you know?”

Unfortunately, Tucker does know. His mom talks about that sometimes, that patients with chronic pain tend to have a different pain scale, and she’ll have to give them a pain scale with qualifiers for what each number means whenever she asks how much it hurts.

The fact that one of his best friends uses a similar kind of pain scale is something Tucker has never been comfortable with.

“Did I do an okay job?” Tucker asks quietly, because if he thinks about that for too long he’ll just start shaking again.

“For the first time you’ve done it? Yeah,” Danny says. “It’s clean, you used the right stuff that I can’t phase through, and you stayed with me afterwards to make sure I was alright. Even though you’re not good with medical stuff. Thank you, Tucker. Really.”

Tucker looks Danny firmly in the eyes. “It really doesn’t hurt that badly?”

Danny winces, and Tucker knows he has him.

“I’ve had a lot worse,” Danny says. There’s a not insignificant amount of bitterness in his voice.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well, what would you do about it anyway? It’s not any worse than normal. I’m gonna be fine.”

Tucker sighs, and leans forward until he can pull Danny into a hug. “I know,” he mumbles. “I just hate seeing you get hurt.”

“I’m okay, Tucker.”

Another thing his mom tells him about her chronic pain patients is that they’ve gotten used to ignoring the pain most of the time. That it’s more of a background hum, but sometimes little things can set off a breakdown that seems to come out of nowhere, when they’re tired of being in pain all the time and want it all to stop and it won’t.

And sure, Tucker hates medical stuff. But he can look out for Danny. And he knows what it looks like when his best friend is close to a dam breaking moment.

But it’s also late, and they’re both tired, and Tucker has a feeling pushing Danny tonight won’t end well for anyone. He’ll just have to make sure to be there for Danny when he’s needed.

So for now, Tucker says, “Okay,” and lays back down on the bed. Danny lays down next to him, and Tucker wraps his arms around him without thinking, though being gentle of the injury on his chest. Danny wraps his arms around Tucker too, probably thinking Tucker’s asking for comfort instead of offering it. Well, maybe he’s doing a little of both.

It certainly helps him to fall asleep listening to Danny’s easy breathing and feeling the rise and fall of his chest. He hopes it helps Danny too.

#danny phantom #tucker foley #danny fenton #is their relationship platonic or romantic in this one?#who knows?#certainly not me #maybe you guys can figure it out #my fic

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foolondahill17 · 2 years

Text

Dear Mr. Vonnegut,

Transcript (bracketed text are notes from Mrs. Dalton):

[11/15/94, please add date]

[C- please see me after class]

Dear Mr. Vonnegut,

[Introduce yourself here]

We’re supposed to pick our favorite author and write them a letter, or whatever. I don’t have a favorite author because I’m not a fucking [unacceptable language!] nerd, but I thought Cat’s Cradle was the best book we read so far by process of elimination (no offense). I just thought the other books were stupid. My Antonia? Total snooze fest [point taken]. And the story about the tricked-out wallpaper?

I get that it was supposed to “mean something,” but – call me crazy – I think a story should have a good story before you start talking about hidden meanings. Some lady getting locked in her bedroom and hallucinating - that’s a shitty [language!] story. If I were her, I would have just jumped out the window or beat my husband over the head with a lamp. Not that I’m ever gonna have a husband. I’m a dude. But my point is, it doesn’t matter if the story’s secretly some feminist commentary on how we shouldn’t lock up women (see, Mrs. Dalton? I do pay attention) [not quite] if it’s just a crummy story in the first place.

But Cat’s Cradle was a good story, first, before all those messages about how we shouldn’t have gone so crazy with nuclear technology during the Cold War because it might blow up the earth someday. But anyway, the story was good, you get me? It was funny and weird and had all that new age religion and science fiction stuff – kind of like “Star Trek.”

I liked the stuff about Bokonism Bokononism. There’s this real stuck up prissy bitch in class named Marie [very inappropriate to discuss another student like this!] who was really upset that Bokononism was basically saying that all religion is just a bunch of lies people make up to make themselves feel better about the fact that everyone dies. And Mrs. Dalton said that, why did it matter if it was all lies if it still brought people peace? I don’t know, I think I’d rather not be lied to and find peace on my own terms, you get me? But Marie was all like “but Jesus is the truth and the Bible is the word of God.” People like her are all over Texas. I hope we move soon. It’s way too fucking [language!] hot here, too.

My dad’s got this friend who’s a pastor who used to babysit me and my brother all the time. He’s always saying the same kind of stuff Marie is, accept [except] he’s not a jerk about it. He thinks that the evil all around us is proof that there’s good, too. My mom used to think that. She taught me the hole [whole] “when I lay me down to sleep” schtick, but then she ended up dying, anyway, by something so evil you wouldn’t even believe it if I told you.

The foot thing was kind of kinky [??], but one thing I liked about Bokononism was the karass idea. I move around a lot, so I meet a lot of people, and I guess some of them have sorta joined my karass [nice connection to your personal life]. I don’t think we’re cosmically linked like the book was talking about, but I think it’s weird [significant?] that we all met each other even though we normally never would have. Like if Dad never met Pastor Jim, he never would have met Caleb and Bobby [run-on sentence] and then me and Sam never would have spent that summer with Bobby [run-on sentence] and I never would have learned how to replace a catalytic converter [impressive!], which was helpful because I had to do it all by myself on the Impala when Dad broke his arm and I needed to drive [??] Sam to school.

It’s like what Newt said: “life’s just a game of Cat’s Cradle. [end quote] I see what you mean, but I don’t know if I totally agree. It just seems so pointless if you really think about it. Life’s nothing more than interconnected strings [nicely phrase]. It’s…doomful [??]. (My dweeb little brother says “inevitable” is a better word) [It is a better word].

Living in a world where you’re not in control of your decisions seems kinda depressing. I mean, I don’t have a lot of control over where we live or what my dad does for a living, but at least I get to decide to help people. It’s not me who’s trapped inside a story that’s already been written. I’m not some corpse on the highest mountain of some Caribean Caribbean Island, thumbing my nose to God. I’ve got more power than that, right? [A significant question]

Anyway, it ain’t like you’re actually going to read this because I probably won’t get a chance to send it. And Mrs. Dalton won’t get to read it, either, [spoke too soon] because I won’t even be at this school in a week. But there’s nothing else to do while I wait for Dad to get back home. There’s nothing good on TV after 11:00, so I might as well do homework. He said he’d be back in time for dinner, but it’s already 1 AM. [??]

Bye, [Regards,]

- Dean W.

A+, you’re a genious [genius] Mr. Winchester! [haha]

[Passably written, and you followed the assignment well enough, but your language and attitude toward your fellow students are unacceptable.]

*Pages surrounded by doodles of a devils trap, fire, Star Wars logo, book, stick-figures, grocery list (peanut butter, apples, bread, soup, cereal, socks), snail, partly erased cartoon dog, glasses, gun, Scooby Doo, baseball, skull, Samulet, Chevrolet logo, Zeppelin lyrics (‘Twas in the darkest depths of Mordor I met a girl so fair, but Gollum, and the evil one, crept up and slipped away with her), note: Call dentist for Sammy! 555-8451*

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #young dean winchester #tean dean winchester #kurt vonnegut #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #ficlet #cat's cradle

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peach-coke · 1 year

Text

Yesterday I watched some totally random horror movie called "Under The Bed", that my prime told me I'd probably like. Fair enough, it's horror, and there's brothers in it - That tracks.

But then it started. And it's just... Okay, so there's cool-guy big brother Neal, with his tousled blonde hair and his half-denim, half-leather jacket who got send away to avoid prison, ‘cause he set their house on fire, right? So he's coming back from his "exile", running right into a welcome-back party that his dad (who he has a strained relationship with...) and his new step-mom throw for him. Because, you know. Their actual mom died in the before mentioned house fire. Uh-Huh.

He then ditches the party (and the girl he "came back to" apparently) to run around the house, frantically searching for his brown-haired baby-brother Paul (which he alone calls Paulie. Unless he’s angry at him, then it becomes a very stern “Paul!”. Because of course.) screaming his name like a maniac for... Reasons? How would I know? Neal just needs to find him asap??

And when he does, they hug it out for a minute or two. Very important stuff? I get it, you're close. Thanks for taking like... Ten minutes of screen time to establish that. It’s only the first. Of many, many, many hugs to come.

They then BOTH ditch the party to hang around in a diner. And we have wonderful dialog like: "I really missed this." - "What did you miss more, the diner or me?" Yes. Normal brother things - Like come on LOOK AT THEM y'all are doing this to me on purpose at this point?

But then. THEN. Neal just whips out a fucking leather-bound diary with monster-scribbles in it and at this point I'm fucking certain that I'm just tripping on my pneumonia meds.

But IT JUST KEEPS GETTING WORSE?!? Sammy Paulie has weird premonition-like nightmares that come with an extra cool hell-filter

While Dean Neal is just out there being very normal, scribbling pictures of the two of them in his diary while his baby-brother is at school without him

Thorough the movie both of them just keep constantly reminding us about the fact that they're brothers (by saying it like, 20 times as if we could've missed it) and would never hurt each other and do everything for each other. They share beds and we get the actual Baby-camera-pan I’m just- while their dad is just out there like????? Y'all are weirdos maybe stop sleeping together (because this movie is actually about a monster under their bed and not them being weirdos lmao)...

...until Paulie gets hurt by the monster and John Dad forcefully separates them because he assumes it’s Neal’s fault. Obviously they can’t have that and sneak out and break locks to hug it out. I mean, they’ve been separated by a door for like, maybe half an hour in realtime. Can’t have that.

Dad is really not amused to find them like this. Again.

AND THEN THEY GEAR UP TO HUNT THE MONSTER UNDER THEIR BED (where Neal shows little Paulie how to properly hold a gun a screwdriver just because... hands??) 'cause what if they end up getting permanently separated because of it?! THE HORROR.

In the end Neal is absolutely ready to sacrifice himself to get his brother back from the nightmare-realm where they do some reunion-forehead-touching, Dad dies on his first hunt in the final confrontation and they beat the monster by throwing their mothers ashes at it (which was totally Paulies idea because you know - He‘s the smart one)...

TLDR this is not just a random Horror Movie, it's a canon divergent Winchester/Teenchesters Fanfic unfurling right in front of my salad and I AM OBSESSED and I need someone to watch this movie to confirm that I am, in fact, not losing my entire mind.

#Textpost #Movie Gifs #Under The Bed (2012)#Paulie and Neal Hausman #Who are basically just #Sam and Dean by proxy #Teenchesters #Kind of?#This movie is making me feel insane #I can't even pretend to be normal about this #Send help

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trimanulo · 11 months

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A few of my theories on Beavis and Butthead!

1. I think everyone noticed that Beavis did not invent a woman for himself. Instead, he came up with a Butt-head, which he was probably really waiting for. Beavis has always had strange tendencies, which I attribute to his orientation. After spending many years with Butthead, he just doesn't think about women anymore, because a friend has completely replaced them. Most likely, he even likes that Butthead beats him, for Beavis this is something normal, so much so that with each season he began to beat Butthead less and less in response. It seems to me that Beavis loves Butthead, but he can't admit it in any way, because he denies it in himself and believes that butthead will not take his feelings seriously.

2. Beavis was raped, and in my opinion more than once. In many episodes of the old seasons and in the last one, he told about a man who "did something to him", Beavis is not a virgin and was sexually assaulted. And not only in adolescence, but also in childhood, which indicates his fear of touching from other people.

3. Butthead was raised by his uncle, his mother's brother. But the mother seems to have visited her son, as she told Butthead that his father had died. Also, Butthead's uncle is most likely not poor, since he allowed his cousin to put braces on his teeth, and this is not cheap.

4. Beavis' mother did not abandon him. Beavis always remembers her and it seems that it was she who paid taxes for the house in which the boys lived for a long time. As it was in "Beavis and Butthead beat the universe", the mother found out that her son had died and she "out of grief" put the house up for sale. Perhaps she hates her son and that's why she left him alone in her house, and she lives with some rich uncle. But in any case, she does not forget about Beavis and maybe they even see each other sometimes.

5. Butthead's uncle is the rich husband of Beavis' mom. That's why these two were merged together into one house. And the phrase "I fucked your mom" came to Butthead from his uncle when he told Beavis her as a child.

6. If you sleep with Beavis or Butt-head, then you will have a new Beavis or Butt-head, who will be 100% together again later. As it was with the fathers of Beavis and Butthead.

7. Butthead does not hate Beavis, on the contrary, he loves his friend for all his stupidity. And even when Beavis is talking complete nonsense and she annoys Butthead, he says the phrase "I'll pretend I didn't hear it." But in no way offends a friend for his mental abilities.

8. Butthead always followed the "Great Corn" not only to laugh, but he also kept an eye on Beavis so that he did not do things. Perhaps it was he who brought him home after the attack and followed him everywhere so as not to lose sight of him.

9. Beavis insanely likes abuse from Butthead, that's why when butthead became good, Beavis hated him. Perhaps he just lacks touch and tactility, that's why he found them in the strokes.

10. Beavis and Butt-head may be disappointed by the fact that after sex, nothing has changed in their lives and the guys, having fulfilled their dream, will come to the conclusion that they have no one but each other and nothing else and can not be. That's it!

#beavis and butthead #beavis x butthead

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donutwatches · 8 months

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MHA 2.10 - Shoto Todoroki: Origin - part 2

This is my first watch of MHA, no spoilers please!

SOUND THE ALARM WE GOTTA CALL CPS!

Why are you wearing your ridiculous flame-beard in your own house, sir? Is it permanent, because that would be inconvenient at dinner time. If it isn’t permanent, why have it lit up while training his 5 year old kid?

He is training his 5 year old kid until his is hunched over on the floor up-chucking his dino shaped chicken nuggies. “...forget about beating All Might” How delusional is this man? His little kid has not outgrown Alphabet Soup and he is talking about beating All Might?

Holy hell, I did not expect MHA to break my heart like this. It is good to see that his Mom was supportive and a positive presence in his early life. I did not know what to expect from her since Todo told Deku she burned him.

SIBLINGS! Three older failed designer kids? So Todoroki is the only one with the quirk match-up that Endeavor was looking for to beat All Might. What a silly plan that will never work. He really decided to make his kids pay for his failure to be #1 himself. What are the other kids supposed to do? Do they at least get to be normal kids?

This episode is really pushing the heartbreak. His sad little face, he just wants to play with his siblings. Why is Endeavor separating them? It feels unnecessarily cruel to all of them to keep the baby brother isolated.

Oh god, this makes an awful kind of sense. Endeavor has been abusing her to the point of a breakdown. The children resembling him put her on edge, and caused her to wrongfully lash out.

Imagine going to the kitchen for some late night chocy milk and overhearing that your Mom does not want to raise you anymore. Damn. But I suppose Mom was trying to remove herself from parenting since she could not trust herself with them anymore. She tried, this was just the worst timing.

...and then she snapped. These are the scariest dead eyes. It really communicates how she lost control. I will be clear on the fact that she still committed child abuse herself and is responsible for her own actions in regards to her kids safety. However, it is obvious to me that the lion’s share of this tragedy lies at Endeavor’s stanky feet.

Dear god, it gets worse. So he has essentially lost his Mom now too? I am not certain what kind of hospital this means? Baby Todo just went through major physical trauma and got hit with this emotional loss at the same time. I am kind of glad that he is blaming his Dad and not himself. A lot of children internalize and blame themselves for abuse. It is never the kids fault.

click for part 3

#tw child abuse #abuse #child abuse #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #anime #todoroki shoto #shoto #todoroki #endeavor

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croszukis · 23 hours

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Nick 38 🤲

38. Multiverse/meeting alternate version of self (send me a guy and a situation)

well, naturally it must be local boy nick right?

“You’re late,” Nick grumbled to Nanea when she finally breezed through the front doors as always, she never fucking used the staff entrance in the back side either.

“Sorry, ah. My car is shit, wouldn’t start this morning and I had to call Kawika for one jump.” She was obviously lying—she grinning when she said this, twisting her hair up into a titah bun or whatever on her head. It was good thing they didn’t have a dress code or bosses (aka Nick’s parents) who cared because Nanea always showed up in cut off jean shorts, slippers on her feet, and Suzuki Shave Ice t-shirts with the neckline cut or the bottom twisted up with a hair tie on her back.

“Whatever, it’s fine. You owe me though, I hate taking orders.” He’d much rather be working the machine, hands almost painfully cold from moving ice blocks and forming mounds of shaved ice into neat little spheres. He was good at it, after years of working in his parent’s shop, making perfect cones every time. “Some dumb fucken’ haoles spent an extra ten minutes bugging me for hiking recommendations because they wanna know where the real locals go. As if I’d tell ‘em. Like try stick to Koko Head, brah?”

Nick moved aside to let Nanea take over the cash register so he could shift over to the ice station, rows of bottles of syrups in every possible color imaginable lined up in front of him. She was better at dealing with customers than him, her fake smile to endless tourists more believable. She flirted, let sunburnt haole boys with crew cuts believe she might be into them or whatever party they try to invite her to. As if she didn’t have a hot surfer boyfriend with tons of family in Waialua that could beat them up. It got tips though, so Nick could only admire her.

It was hours later, deep into the afternoon post-beach rush, when Nanea hissed at him, “Eh, Nick. Try look at this guy.”

He was busy trying to remember all four flavors this little girl had ordered, a weird combination she’d definitely regret but Nick didn’t say anything and just pulled out all the bottles to set on the ledge in front of him. “What? Is it another guy trying to steal a t-shirt?”

“No. He looks just like you. Like, it’s freaky weird.”

He wiped the sides of the plastic holder on the cone of spilled syrup and handed it to the mom before glancing to where Nanea was gesturing. “What are you talking about?” She nudged him in the direction of a group of guys—a bunch of haoles he’d guess were from the mainland, probably. But in the middle of them was an asian guy.

“Woah.”

“I told you! Totally looks like you. Shoots, we found your doppelgänger!”

Nick had to admit that the guy did look like him, if he grew up on the mainland he guesses. If he were the type to cut his hair like that, or wear golf polo shirts and never see the sun. The group made it to the front of the line and Nanea was doing all of her normal routine, flirting a little, gesturing with her hands as she talked in a way that made the tahitian pearl bangles she wore jingle.

She kept glancing back at the asian guy, Nick could see even from over at his station, and he watched them notice it too. The guy didn’t seem weirded out or like he thought she was interested in him and he was interested back. Actually he seemed to brace himself, like he was expecting something he wasn’t going to enjoy much.

“Hockey fan?” He mumbled, Nick could barely make out the words over the buzzing of the shave ice machine.

“No?” Nanea responded with a laugh. “I don’t think you’ll find anyone here who is.”

The guy looked embarrassed now, glancing at his friends, “We’re hockey players. I thought maybe you recognized us and didn’t know how to tell us.”

“Oh, no.” She didn’t even seem at all fazed to have been caught staring at him. In fact she looked excited and Nick groaned internally. Nanea owed him much more than sweeping the floors at closing now, this was like, some of her mom’s homemade kulolo territory. “It’s just—you look like one of our workers. This is his family's shop actually.” She was pointing to Nick now, who was trying to start on their order actually.

Nick didn’t move any closer, staying by the safety of the machine, but gave a close-lipped smile to the group who were all staring at him now.

“Nick, isn’t it funny your doppelgänger plays hockey apparently? Do you even know how to ice skate?”

“I do,” he grumbled, feeling insulted. He spent one summer in junior high with a group friends who were obsessed with Ice Palace and went almost every week. He used to be able to skate backwards, even.

“Wait, your name is Nick too?” One of his friends popped up, he was the shortest of them all. Nick only noticed because the other guys were all pretty tall.

“We came here because it’s named Suzuki’s. Like him.” He had an arm around well, Nick, apparently. “So you’re both Nick Suzuki. That’s crazy.”

Nick thought the guy had way too much energy for someone who hadn’t even eaten a large shave ice yet. The tops of his cheeks were red and he was grinning like it didn’t hurt to do that when Nick knew it must’ve.

He looked back at Other Nick to see him staring back at him intently, observing him or something. It was unnerving, they looked so alike but they were so different—the way he dressed, the way he talked with his vowels sounding all weird—there was almost nothing else similar about them.

“Yeah, crazy.”

#*writing #local boy nick suzuki

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railingsofsorrow · 7 months

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𝙾𝙲𝚃. 15th; 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘.

summary: iris's letter.

pairing: spencer reid x oc!iris valentia

w.c: 635

warnings/content: mentions of AHS; brief mention of coulrophobia; fluff.

navi

masterpost

series masterlist

whoever wants to be tagged for this fic, fill this out or dm me.

[letter 1] [letter 2] [letter 3] [letter 4] [letter 5] [letter 6] [letter 7] [letter 8] [letter 9]

October 15th.

Hi, Spencer.

There is no such thing as “recent research” that says that coffee can replace meals throughout the day. I did my research, and this is total bullshit. If you are not eating healthy at least once a day I'm going to find you and I'm going to shove broccoli down your throat. (that's a threat)

Just FYI: just because you have 5 PhD's and people call you “Doctor Reid” doesn't mean you can say your opinion means you are a medical doctor. It is not a second opinion, therefore, coffee is not a whole meal, Spencer!

(I hate broccoli. It tastes so bad.)

Oh, and yes. I am one of those 14%. I can't stand them. I can't see or hear anywhere close to me. It's unsettling. They are unsettling and the costumes should not be allowed anymore. Have you ever watched American Horror Story? It explains everything — and stop calling it irrelevant facts! They're relevant to me, Doc!

Did everything end up alright in the end, though? Did your team get to solve it in time? (Please tell me there isn't a crazy clown running around Virginia...)

Oh, Spencer. Henry sounds lovely. I hope you are not teaching how to steal his mom's forbidden books, though. What do you mean “your magic tricks”? Is the Doctor Reid a great magician too? Is there anything you can't do?

I classify “troublemaker” as a cheeky kid who defies his mom's rules. Since we're on this topic... I used to steal cupcakes before their deliveries. My mom had a catering service. Every time the food was ready I'd go to the cupcake section — her recipe is the best thing, I wish I knew how to cook — grab five and then I'd hide somewhere to eat them.

She caught me once.

Switching the subject, it's understandable that you can't be impartial all the time during cases. You're human, you feel. This is normal. Don't beat yourself up for it, please. It's your job and you love it but with what you face every day, you can't expect to be happy all the time. Even I can't be, at my field which is nowhere near yours. You are allowed to feel sad, angry, anything, really. Please, know that, okay? And you can talk to me. Write. Send birds, whatever. I think over two months of exchanging letters we could consider ourselves friends, somewhat, right?

Okay, so the strangest thing just happened. I was just grading my student's midterms in my lab, then one of them walks in. We initiated a conversation, totally fine, he's a great kid. When he was about to leave he told me to not come to University on the 27th of this month (for some reason?) and he left. I didn't even think much of it until now. I don't know why but it unsettled me a bit? Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I'm sharing this here because it's late and I have no one else to talk to.

I'm exhausted, I need to get home!

About the book, I think Radcliffe makes me visualize exactly what is happening through her writing, that's what grabbed my attention. I've created so many theories and now I think all of them are wrong but I'm only halfway through the book. What spell did you put me under, Spencer? I don't like horror!

Anyway, remember to hydrate yourself and get a good night's sleep. I hope you have a great week, Spencer <3

(I'm glad you know what the symbol means now, thank your friend on my behalf!)

Ps: I read The Tell-Tale Heart and I had to sleep with one eye open tonight. Thanks, Spencer. I have to say I prefer Annabel Lee.

Love,

Iris.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz

#sun-bleached paper petals fic #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x original female character

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