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trainingdummyrabbit · 3 months

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Woe. Extended Cocoa Monologue Be Upon Ye.

So. Her name is Cocoa. Theoretically. She's been around for a pretty long time, if not the longest when going by current employee terms. She's the one who works with Nothing There because shes the only one who. Can. A bit odd, she's almost entirely mute aside from a handful of phrases and words, and occasionally mimicking things said to her recently. She's considered to be a bit airheaded, not really paying attention to her surroundings and more often than not just kind of... cycling around the facility when not on the job.

She does a lot of things that would Seem normal on first glance, but are just.. kinda strange, when you actually pay attention to her. Like background actors pretending to be passerby, but when they get a lil silly with it and start like. Putting whipped cream on a carrot and eating it raw. Y'know. Girl Things. Most folks don't give her much mind aside from common pleasantries-- mostly because she just doesn't answer anything else. She just kinda stares blankly, no thoughts head empty, as if she doesn't understand. She's just silly that way though, so nobody minds.

When shes given a task, though, she's just. Entirely Different. Shes very methodical, cutting straight to the point-- oftentimes literally. It's where her experience with the whole Being A Lobcorp Employee really makes itself obvious. She can take a Lot of shit and just... Wont Die. She just gets back up! Easypeasy. It's almost mechanical-- and she barely seems affected at all by any of the Horrors(tm) that come with the whole... y'know. When it comes down to it, shes a little scary.

Nobody really Knows this necessarily, but before she was an agent, she was actually a clerk ! :] She just kind of... did her job. Was polite and enthusiastic, all that good stuff, model employee or whatever. but then, evidently, there was a pretty bad abno breach at some point, and she completely managed to hold her own, going so far as to be Almost Helpful! Astounding ! So they moved her around to being a fully functional agent! Something that has absolutely no consequences whatsoever !

. So, the horrors, right? Stepping out of exposition speak, Cocoa is an exploration on the split between human, monster, and object-- and what it means to define yourself within those terms. (It's honestly a common theme between the group as a whole, but they all tackle it differently.) Cocoa-- previously known as Holly-- was pretty much always a Highly Volatile person. Not that she ever showed it. A lot of her hinges on her desperate desire to be seen as Worthwhile, to be worthy of being kept around. Truthfully? She was always terrified of death.

She knew how the world worked. Either you made yourself useful and did what you were supposed to, or you were thrown out to the cruel whims of what the world does to people like her. She was, functionally, a Nobody. And she knew this. So she did her best to fit into the vision of somebody Useful. Polite, easy to herd around, noncombative-- all that stuff. It was grating, sure, but anything to keep her out of the bad books of people who could so easily crumble her already fragile life without a second thought. It was just what she needed to do.

So um. Unfortunately, pinning your entire identity on the whims of a conglomerated image of "other people" was never really sustainable. Not even remotely. Especially not for somewhere like the city. These sorts of things contradicted themselves, looped around, formed uncrossable chasms of expectation that she could never live up to even if she tried. And god, did she try. Constantly putting up a front was exhausting, but rewriting yourself completely every time you moved somewhere new? god can you even imagine.

She was just about Always tiptoeing a thin line between roles, teetering delicately between the gazes of those above her. Any action or expression or emotion contradicting from that image had to be immediately smothered, every step out of line earned a warning shot from herself that nobody else could really see. So like, no pressure!

So, going into Lobcorp, she was a model employee, secretly harboring the unstable energy of a dying star. Easypeasy. The abno escape was, as the kids say, "the last fucking straw in her miserable life," and she kind of just. blacked out, woke up, and it was over. She helped about as much as a clerk Could, but the fact that she was alive was an anomaly. Again, she is very very good at just... Staying Alive, when she shouldn't. So that was a pretty good vouch for her skill, even if she didnt present that at first. She, obviously, was pretty nervous about the whole thing, but if this is what she was being told to do, then so be it! Easypeasy! No big deal ! I'm sure Lobotomy Corporation is just an office comedy! She is very normal.

So, again, the thing about Holly is just that she. Doesn't Die. But the people around her sure do!! What happens around here is a bit of a blur, both to me and to her, but the long and short of it is pretty much this. Through the course of her acting as a full-title Agent, it did, shockingly in fact, Make A Lot Of Her Issues Worse ! Now not only did her Own life rest in her hands, but also a bunch of other people's! Crazy how that works.

She seems perfectly fine, mostly just because her immediate instinct in stress is to just. shut off. Panic, fear, anger-- none of that has any place in the role of a Useful Employee. She can't have doubts, cant have regrets, she just has to Move. So she just lets her body do what needs to be done, and tunes back in when everything is over again. It's not Easy getting to know people in a situation like that, but somehow she Did actually manage to make a friend! Though, I suppose, not that difficult, because "being friendly" is a very good Employee Trait to have, so obviously she has it. But, well, it Was nice! Was. Lobotomy Corporation Is A Tragedy ! Whoops.

So obviously, having a small bit of solace taken away from you is, to put it lightly, Not A Great Experience. But well, it wasn't exactly just that necessarily. To her, that person was everything that any model person Should be. Effortlessly. Intrinsically. They simply Were, and through the plain act of Being A Person, Unapologetically, was... well, it was refreshing! Silently, it was everything Holly Wished that she could be, but just couldn't gain the courage to reach. It wasn't even any huge event that killed them, it was just... some stupid mistake. The core of it simply came down to... well, if they couldn't do it, how could she? Her, hoping to be better than someone like that? Was that even possible? And this is about where things start . going sideways.

So. Her whole deal with Nothing There. It wasn't anything big. Not really, in the grand scheme of things. In all honesty, it was more of a Resignation. At this point, she'd already been kind of spacey and distant-- even for her own standards-- so of course, nobody would really notice much of anything. (Again, another good trait of a Useful Employee.) Working with NT for the first time was. odd. Nobody really knew what to make of it at the time, but Holly hadn't died Yet, so she was as good a choice as any. And seeing the damn thing, well. yeah, it was disgusting, but it wasn't what affected her the most. Rather, it was when it tried to start Speaking.

Calling it Horror isn't exactly correct, but it wasn't exactly... incorrect, either. All she could really do was watch it try to form words over and over, messy and stilted, inherently flawed. A crude imitation of something she should understand. Disgusting, sure, but not for the right reasons. Because all she could really see was a microcosm of herself. A horrible little excuse for a creature trying to pretend to be human, pulling itself together by the seams and stumbling over and over, painfully close yet uncomfortably alien to those it was trying to imitate. And she could only watch, as emotions she'd done her best to suppress slowly clawed their way back up.

It was then she had a choice. To confront what exactly it was that she'd been desperately locking away, that raging sensation of emotion, of desire, of anything-- or to resign herself into disappearing completely, letting herself drop all of the baggage of that flawed facade of "humanity" and allowing it to be replaced with... for lack of a better term, a Variable. an Anything Else. But... she was never very good at confronting herself, was she? So she sat down, and began correcting the entity's speech, forming both It and Her back into the shape that they "should" be. And at the same time, letting go of a "self" that could no longer exist anymore.

The thing about her, simply, is that-- again-- she doesn't die. Not the way that people do, not the way that people Should. But then again, "Holly" hasn't existed for a long time, by the start of everything. Anyone who Knew who she was never really had the chance to, with the way she was-- not that any of them were alive to be able to tell. She never answers anyone asking what her name is. or what her job is, or... well, much of anything. So people just call her Cocoa, because that's the only thing she seems to like :) And well, people say it confidently enough that others just Believe them, and Cocoa doesn't care enough to correct them, so like. whatever. Cocoa is here to do her job. Nothing more, nothing less. And nobody is going to stop her, because she's damn good at it. Nobody knows there was even a problem to begin with. Silently, wordlessly, the "person" she used to be simply... disappeared. And nobody was there to hear it. Which makes things... difficult.

Because she doesn't remember any of that. None of her peers do, either. She feels "fine," simply enacting whatever it is she needs to do. And because of that, people simply just Believe Her. It was as if "she" had never really existed at all. And at the end of it all... she was entirely indifferent. There was work to do, you know? No use worrying over some kid who couldn't handle the pressure. Happens all the time, right? And so the world moves on, without a second thought.

Not a second thought at all.

#pikocs #projmoon #long post #LONG fucking post i mean it #reading this back is so funny. 'stepping out of exposition speak--' No The Fuck You Aren't #anyway this is my little beast she can be trusted adn she is so so normal. perceive her at yuor soonest convenience <33 #i also. want to put down that ive been writing this group Before i read wonderlab which makes several things. VERY funny.#like. this isnt even the funniest bit. but um; thats an aside;#anyway this is like; an entire offshoot branch of Lcorp for context; and a lot of logistics im working out still #and a lot of logistics im just 'ehhh whatever' about so ^w^#but theyre just a horrible little jumble of 'oh god oh fuck oh shit' and th worlds most Unfortunate timing #and the worlds most Characters of ever who simultaneously make each other better and Significantly Worse <333 #ill uh. ill get to everyone eventually. probably. wapow ✌

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nlaoh15 · 19 days

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—PARADOX

Everyday I ask myself, what do I even see in him? What do I even see in this puppet who's desperate for validation from people just so he can feel like a human being and not a mere man-made thing that was abandoned by its own creator; a being that defies all laws of life, alive with no vital organs to keep him functioning; alive but not quite breathing, alive but yet he has only ever experienced one aspect of life that the world has thrown at him. A mere being put together with wires and porcelain that's so fragile, it'll break under a single touch. And then I realised as I stare back at my reflection that I see myself in him. A human who's feeling was invalidated whenever it was expressed, a puppet denied of its original purpose ; all because he was deemed too "weak", too "fragile". Yet when he tried to find other way to fulfil his life, to find another reason for his existence ; he was stripped of that freedom, denied once again by the people he trusted; he felt betrayed. Betrayed and disgraced is what he felt. He never once knew that the people he loved could evoke such feelings in him. Perhaps he had forgotten his first; for it happened when he was but a simple minded little boy. His appearance might make it seem he has already grown up to a nice young man, but it was only a distraction ; for his mind could be compared to that of a new born baby; curious, oblivious, unknown of the cruel and always on the move; never once stopping for the ill-fated that was doomed from the very moment they lay their innocent eyes on the world. Yet nevertheless, he was so full of emotions that was unknown to him even though just a second ago he was but a blank slate ; waiting to be used by his creator. He was so overwhelmed by all those emotions that it stirred a reaction in him that most would not expect from a mere puppet; meant to be controlled and used in certain ways. And yet like an infant, he shed a tear.

Oh, how pathetic he was.

For that one drop of tear was the sole reason that his own mother abandoned him and stripped him of the very reason he was created.

ᵃˡˡ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗˢ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ.

ⁿˡᵃᵒʰ¹⁵™

ᵏʸᵒ®

#kyowrites #character writing #character is inspired by wanderer from genshin #original writing #original work #an edit of scara in that one aventurine official art triggered this all #my writing #books #novel #fiction

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thecityofselcouth · 2 years

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The tight closet space being over-encumbered by Damian’s legs, Veronica molded herself perfectly to fit within the spaces he did not take up and entwined herself amongst his long limbs. As his head rested against her shoulder and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she arranged the blanket to cover him as well before staring down at his peaceful face. While he was sleeping, it wasn't hard to see the boy behind the man as his sharp features rounded slightly in a place of total rest.

The fullness of his lips was enticing, as her eyes traced the outline of his upper lip as though she were about to describe the shape of it to a blind man. Every sculptor in the world would struggle to mimic the curvature of his cheekbones, and Veronica felt herself pale in comparison. His beauty was devastating, and her heart skipped beats within her chest while she counted each eyelash that got to bless his cheeks with butterfly kisses every time he blinked.

“You really are just a teddy bear, aren't you?” Veronica asked the ghost of him with her volume barely above the sound of his breathing, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Pressing her lips ever so delicately to his forehead as to not wake him, she shut her eyes against the memories of her mother telling her bedtime stories of how her childhood teddy bear would come to life and protect her within the night. But once her mother was gone, the teddy bear did nothing to protect her from her nightmares, as they were there when she was awake too. Damian had actively fought with one of her day-walking nightmares and had won, the image of her brother’s blooded face appearing back at the forefront of her mind. Perhaps, unlike her childhood teddy bear, Damian would never fail to protect her.

Holding him in her arms, she brought herself even closer still as though she could be absorbed into his skin by the contact, and snuggled deeper into the nest that he had built for them. She knew that she would have to explain who Lukas had been at some point, as well as explain every flinch or overly apologetic tone that her body used as coping mechanisms against the outside world. But deep within the confines of her safe haven and with Damian by her side, Veronica felt as though she did not have a care in the world for the first time in a very long time. She wondered to herself, as she began fading into a blissful sleep, if Damian was experiencing all of the new raw emotions she was, and even if he wasn't, she was unsure if she would be able to ever let him go.

---

Although she wasn't quite sure what she had fully expected, June most certainly had not expected Tony’s sudden intensity, especially as he seemed bound and determined to pick up where her dream in the tub had left off. As she was thrown over his shoulder like he was a pillaging barbarian, June fought the urge to smack his well defined backside in retaliation, and, deciding to momentarily relapse on the drug that was Walker recklessness, told him how to get to her bedroom. At least, with the sound dampening that was installed into the room’s insulation, Margot would not have to be an auditory witness if Tony decided to kill her in her own home.

And, as it so was, Tony was actively trying to kill her, as June felt her heart pounding out of her chest, her arrhythmia halving every third beat, while his tongue wrote out its own poetry against her sensitive flesh. By the time he was traveling back up her body, she was letting loose a stream of endless Spanish that had long since stopped making any rational sense, even to her own ears. The way he looked at her made her feel as though she was burning alive, and the way he was touching her made all brain function cease as her body was brought to new heights.

But nothing, despite her body’s readiness, could have prepared her for the way Tony fucked her. Her nails dug into any piece of him she could get her hands on, clawing crisscross patterns across the expanse of his back, until he flipped her body around like a ragdoll and continued to hit the spot inside of her that made her see stars. Her hands roamed over his forearms as they wrapped around her body, as she matched his pace and adding to the sound of their joining. She clung to his length as he stole it away from her only to send her right back over the edge, crying out while her nails bit back into his skin.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered as he slipped out of her, but did not have to want for long as Tony lifted her up and filled her once again. Gripping onto the hair on the back of his head, June followed his gaze down to watch as he split her in two, and while the tension in her lower abdomen began to build, she threw her head back in pure ecstasy. Her release was halted as he moved them across the bedroom towards her mirror. Confused but too delirious to ask questions, June’s legs wobbled and nearly buckled underneath her as she used the wall for support. June made eye contact with him through the mirror as he inserted himself inside of her, and her eyes rolled back in her head at the new angle. His name flew from her lips like a passionate warcry as her orgasm hit her like a semi-truck, and she crumbled into his embrace, feeling him reach his own completion just seconds after her own.

As June tried to recover her breathing and steady her heart rate on the mattress where he had placed her afterwards, her eyes tracked his naked form as he checked his incessant cell phone that had gone off. Before she could make a snappy comment about it however, her brows pulled down in concern as she kept track of the micro expressions on his face. Something was wrong; something was really wrong. She jumped into action instantly, ignoring the ache in her hips and between her thighs, as she was asked to come along, and entered her walk-in to grab a pair of jeans.

Changing quickly, she threw her hair up into a bun as they walked, grabbed her med-bag from Loretta’s trunk and climbed into the passenger seat of Tony’s car. While Tony told her the details of the video, June sent a quick text to Margot, telling her that she left for an emergency, in case she woke up. The message would not be alarming or new to Margot, as June often left for business in the middle of the night. When they pulled up in front of the Javachi house, June took in its grandeur and Mediterranean inspired architecture as she exited the car, bringing her med-bag along with her.

Feeling as though she was stepping into the lion's den - as if she had not allowed one of the said lions to ravage her not twenty minutes beforehand, June stepped through the open front door and into the foyer, taking note of the blood splattered on the ground. Once June’s eyes found Lily at the feet of a mountain of a man, she walked purposefully over to them and sank down beside Lily. As Lily seemed to be unconscious and not the source of the blood, June checked her pulse, feeling the steady thrum of her heart through the thin skin of her wrist and noting the temperature of her skin.

Hating the angle at which she had to look up at the guard beside her, she glanced up at him anyway, “What are the ice packs for? Did she get too hot?” Whenever he said something in very thick Italian in reply, she frowned and wondered to herself how similar Spanish was and if he'd understand it better than English. Deciding it was a topic of research for another time, she returned to checking Lily’s vitals. Lily began to stir underneath her hands, and June was thankful that she did not have to pull out a smelling salts tablet from her bag.

“Hello there jefa - boss,” June spoke to her softly as to not startle her, “Are you able to tell me what happened? Or at least what you remember?” Looking over at Tony, who appeared to be calling someone, she nodded towards the man beside her, “Can you ask him to get Lily some water please?” She wasn't about to go searching for the kitchen on her own, and also did not want to leave Lily’s side until she knew what was going on. As the man only seemed to hover closer, her eyes flickered over to him and then back to Tony, “And to back the hell off please, so that both Lily and I can breathe.”

---

James’ muscles ached from the day, and he could feel bruises forming on his rib cage from one of the afternoons’ fights. He may be a tough guy, one that had watched the essence of life go out in someone's eyes by his own hands, but his body melted under the touch of the redheaded woman beside him. Missed you today, she had said to him with her fingers running through his hair, and James felt heavy at the weight that statement placed on his shoulders. Forcing himself to get out of his own head as she moved further down to lay next to him, James tightened his arms around her waist.

“Well, of course not,” he chuckled, rumbling the bed underneath them, “Hard to do whenever you aren't there to get into.” Using sexual induendo like a crutch was one of James’ go-to ways to change conversation direction, and he knew that Collins would only put up with it for so long so he decided to play nice and told her about his day at the boxing gym, leaving out any suspect details that might cause her to raise an eyebrow. “Wanna play doctor, and check me over for injuries?” He wagged his own eyebrows at her, pinching the soft curve of her hip.

---

a month later, Sunday, May 22nd; the afternoon before the charity gala

“You piece of shit!” Noah’s nose wrinkled in disgust, “What makes you think that I would ever sleep with you?!” Her voice had risen to a high volume, which made the red faced Mayor Davis move to shut his office door. She reached out and grabbed it with her hand before he could and held onto it as he tried to force it closed anyway.

He leered at her, but stepped away from the door and towards his desk, “I should not need to remind you to keep your voice down, Miss Louis.” Noah scoffed, knowing nearly everyone would have gone for the day, but he continued before she could say anything, “And as for your little outburst, I would never catch myself inside a dyke bitch like you.”

Noah’s blood began to boil underneath her skin, turning to face him, as his voice continued to drone on and on. She was no longer listening to him, but she understood the gist of where he was heading. He was planning on emptying the city’s accounts and running, leaving Noah in the dust to clean up his mess, as per always, and pinning it all on her.

Have you ever been so close to death that you had prayed that the ground underneath you would open up and allow your body to return to the dirt that once created it? Noah had. Experiencing something like that changes a person, no doubt about it. Those who knew Noah before the incident would have never recognized the person she was afterwards, but for some reason, Noah liked it that way.

She felt different, which meant that she hoped that the world around her would see her differently. She had been at the height of her military career and was only going up with no end in sight. After something like the incident, the world around you seems to just stop. The person she was before was going down a path that didn't align with her beliefs anymore.

And the hotter her temper flared, the more she could feel the metal of the gun she had hidden in her waistband. Hearing the words coming out of the mayor’s mouth, along with a fair amount of spit, Noah felt the cool acceptance of what she was about to do pouring like an ice bath over her skin.

She had learned how to hold a gun, as well as gun safety, by the time she was six years old. Her father, being the military man that he was, had trained her on every instance imaginable at the time, but something told Noah that nothing could have prepared even him for this. Without another word, Noah had the gun in her hand and the safety off within seconds, and within a few more, the mayor sat slumped over at his desk with a bullet perfectly placed between his eyes.

the day after, Monday, May 23rd; around lunchtime

Hurt; Lily, the only proper mother he had ever known, had been hurt. James was having a hard time focusing on what Collins was saying, as his mind still continued to show him the image from the beginning of the month of Lily’s battered body coming down the stairs, still as poised and elegant as she always was. His hands clenched and unclenched at the thought, and the taste of bile was continuing to rise at the back of his throat. He didn't think that she had seen him standing in the hallway that led to the guards’ quarters until she had asked him if he had eaten yet. The thought that she was still trying to take care of those around her made him want to rip the house down around him, but he also knew that there was nothing he could do. He would follow orders, and he would not tell Damian the truth, even if he nearly killed him to keep it from him.

Collins’ tone changed from casual to snippy, which drew James back to where he was leaning against her kitchen counter. “Hm?” his eyes tore from the old hardwood below to her face, and all he could imagine was Collins’ in the same shape as Lily had been. James had seen how his own temper got the best of him on many occasions, and he also had seen what he could do once he unleashed that anger. He had taken lives over someone saying the wrong thing in the wrong tone at the wrong time, not to mention the countless others where he had put his muscles to use for the Javachis.

“You’re a piece of shit,” Collins all but snarled at him, “You don’t even respect me enough to talk to me?” James’ head jolted backwards as if she had hit him. You’re a piece of shit, the words reverbed across his conscious, despite having heard it before.

“You’ll be nothing but a piece of shit, just like your son-of-a-bitch daddy,” his mother, strung out on a cocktail of heroin and crystal meth, had said before striking her small son.

“Just a delinquent piece of shit,” his first case worker had stated, gripping his arm as she dragged him off of another boy who was picking on his twin sister.

The same twin sister popped her gum in his ear during one of their visitations before she requested to never see him again, “Ugh, you’re such a piece of shit.”

He had overheard his lawyer in the hallway of the courthouse whenever he was eighteen with his first adult case, “Frankly, I think this guy is just a piece of shit child of the state, who is only going to end up a recurring occupant of our legal system.”

“Have you ever respected me, James?” Collins had come closer to him, and he watched her face turn to one of disgust, “Have you ever-” The first blow to his chest he was not prepared for, and by the second, he had her wrists in a vice grip to stop her. “I should have known to leave you when I had the chance,” she spat, struggling against his grip.

James looked down at his hands, and remembered the finger shaped bruises that Veronica had been left with the night that Collins dared her to slap him across the face. The bile that had been threatening to come up earlier made a return before turning into a scorching rage, like he had swallowed a hot branding iron. He released her wrists, finger by finger, and his jaw locked in resignation.

“Then let me save you the energy this time,” his voice sounded cold even to his own ears, “We are done here.” He moved around her, and headed towards the front door of the apartment.

---

Margot peeked into the pot that sat simmering on the gas range, the aroma of her mother’s cooking filling the room. From behind her, the sudden huff of exasperation that only her mother could make made her jump, and she stepped back away from the stovetop.

“Aún no está listo; no lo toques - It isn't ready yet; don't touch it,” June warned, shooing her further away from the stove, and turned to the pot to check on the boiling substance inside.

Margot rolled her eyes, and lifted herself up to sit on the island bar, “No lo toqué; relájate. - I didn’t touch it; relax.” She motioned towards the pot as her mother turned back towards her, brandishing her wooden spoon like a weapon.

“No me digas que me relajes, nena - Do not tell me to relax, babygirl,” her mother glared at her, and whacked Margot’s thigh with the spoon, the spot where it made contact stinging afterwards, “And get your rear end off of my countertop before I throttle you.”

Margot laughed at June’s empty threat but jumped down from the counter anyway, turning to Tony, who sat at the dining table, and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, “She's usually in a better mood whenever you stay over, blondie.” She leaned her weight onto one hip, and took a bite out of her apple, “You seem to be slacking on your wifely duties; I might have to report you to HR.”

June snorted out a laugh behind her, causing Margot to glance over her shoulder at her. Her mother stood with her back to them both, stirring the contents of their brunch and humming an oldies song to herself. While she still had her reservations about Tony, Margot couldn't deny that her mother seemed happier than she had been in years, and it was nice to see her doing something for herself for once - even if that meant she shared space with an exceptionally large Italian man on a Monday morning.

Turning back to Tony, Margot heard the wood of the staircase in the foyer groan from someone coming downstairs, and she raised an eyebrow, counting heads in the room, “Uhhhhm-”

Before she had a chance to decide that her house was haunted, however, Noah appeared from the foyer, “Is that coffee I smell?” She passed by Margot, clearly not phased by the man at the dining table, patting her on the shoulder in passing, “Hey Marg,” and heading straight to the coffee pot. Noah rubbed at a stiff spot on her back from the guest room mattress, as she poured herself a cup of coffee. With too many people in the kitchen, she decided to settle on drinking it black instead of adding her usual splash of whiskey, knowing where the liquor was stashed in the island bar cabinets.

Standing confused amongst adults who clearly knew what was going on, Margot’s fingers twitched in agitation, “What’s going on?”

“Damn, happy to see you too,” Noah smiled but it did not reach her eyes before sipping from her coffee cup, as Margot gave her a look that nearly rivaled her mother’s, making Noah’s stomach tighten at the sight but she kept her face amused, “Don't look at me like that, butthead; I am immune to the Walker tactics.”

“Bullshit,” Both Walker women stated at the same time, causing them both to laugh. June, setting down the wooden spoon and crossing her arms, faced the group and leaned back against the counter. Noah rolled her eyes at the pair before taking another sip from her cup, not caring as it scalded a layer of skin off the roof of her mouth.

“Is there any other mystery people coming to lunch, or is this everyone?” Margot asked as she sat cross legged in a dining chair across from Tony.

Noah nodded towards the foyer, “Well, nosy-pants, Germ and Olly are upstairs in the guest room, if you must know; I gave up on waking either of them up.” Margot processed this information with what she already knew, and decided that something must have happened the night previously at the charity gala. While feeling left out made her frustrated, she knew that she'd get information as she got it and didn't want to push, in case it did the opposite of what she wanted.

---

Her mother had owned a music box, one that had not played music since before Veronica had been born, but the porcelain ballerina on the inside of the box had always continued to turn. As a child, she had always sung her own music, watching her twirl for hours in her pale pink tutu. It had been the broken music box that had inspired her mother to place Veronica in dance classes at three years old, which is not an uncommon practice for those hoping to aspire to do more with dance than it being just a silly after school activity. Propelling her body to twist, Veronica mimicked the pirouetting little dancer in the middle of the empty studio space, enjoying the midday calm before the afternoon's classes.

After her mother died, Veronica never really did understand why her father had kept her in ballet. Perhaps it was his way of an apology for her childhood, or maybe it was one final love letter to her mother, as her father had never gotten over her mother’s passing. She had been four whenever her mother had driven off that bridge, and by seven, Veronica was well versed in all the horrors Jackson would force her to live through. It had taken the threat of child services for Jackson to allow his youngest child to leave and go to the boarding school that opened her world to endless possibilities away from him and that house of pure evil.

Her alarm cut off the music playing through her Bluetooth, and her thoughts and dance were interrupted by the abrasive sound. She glanced over at the clock on the wall above the mirrors, and smiled to herself, skipping over to her phone to turn off her alarm. She disconnected her phone, and sank to the floor to remove her pointe shoes. She rubbed at the tension in her feet before leaving the studio to find where she placed her sandals. Holding onto the door frame of the prop closet, she slipped on her sandals quickly and made her way out the lobby door to the parking lot.

As her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight of Damian waiting for her by his car, Veronica sank her teeth into her bottom lip to try to contain her smile from spreading to a grin. Noting he was not paying attention and sneaking up on him, she hopped in front of him to hear the gravel crunch under her feet, “Boo!” She giggled, pecking his jawbone, before she peered up at him, entrapping him by circling her arms around his waist. “Did I scare you?” She couldn't help but giggle again at her own joke, and buried her face into his chest, allowing the contact to soothe her and to push away all the negative thoughts from moments before.

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manic-pixie-dream-dude · 2 years

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GIVE ME ALL YOUR VARIPUNZEL THOUGHTS!!! THEY NEED META!!

THEY REALLY DO!!! THEY REALLY REALLY DO!! I tried my best to sort out my thoughts into something that could at least be called coherent but uh. It got super long lmao, so! please enjoy: Varian, Rapunzel, and the insanity they sparked within me

Individually:

To start, these two are my favorite charas in the entire series. The other characters I enjoy the most when they're interacting with each other but Var and Raps are fun even on their own, or just when they're talking to their Animal Sidekick.

Varian is such a good character and you can tell by how he shines even though he only appears in 3 episodes of S1. ONLY THREE. He's a delight to have onscreen, and he's got so much depth as a kid who's done nothing but fail yet still remains optimistic and resilient through it all. His development into the antagonist is very natural, being as he's only ever had his dad as his family and was avoided by everyone else, you can't help but sympathize and root for him. His personality is just… dorky little shit who’s well-meaning but just the slightest bit unhinged. I love him lots. His skepticism about magic is funny (and a nice contrast to Rapunzel's usually magical view of the world) but I like to think that, because of Rapunzel, he eventually does believe in it.

As for Rapunzel, I adore what they did with her character. Fleshed her out and gave her flaws that made her so human. Obviously, the "princess stressed about her role" trope isn't anything new but the way it's tackled here is great! She's only been out of that tower for several months and immediately thrown into duties and expectations all at once but still hangs on to her sense of wonder and curiosity, much like Varian.

Together:

from the first ep, I just found their interactions SO cute. They start off with Varian being so... LIKE THAT when he meets her, amazed and infatuated cus "WOAH THE PRINCESS IS HERE SHE SOUGHT ME OUT" and he's obviously trying to impress/seem cool. I love how Varian literally gets on one knee and exclaims "look at you!" to Rapunzel.

(and his fixation on her hair, being interested in its qualities and later using it as a sort of plushie, is insanely endearing).

And Raps was so excited and interested about his field of study, compared to how weary everyone is. The girl lets herself be strapped to the equivalent of a torture bench ffs.

They're both nerds! Rapunzel is shown to be super well-read and a dork in her own right, (usually being an art nerd while Varian is a science nerd) and I can so easily imagine them rambling to each other and sharing their interests.

It’s really cute how Varian matches her energy and almost juvenile excitement/optimism/persistence about everything while still grounding her because of his personality, both when he's just her friend and when he's her enemy.

Even in their later interactions, I like how Varian still seems to care for her, until his anger and fear for his father wins over (I like the idea that the "I used you" line was more out of spur of the moment frustration rather than genuine malice.)

Their dynamic in general is insanely compelling to me with its potential, I do function on my own fanon chain of events but even canon gives us a lot of it, both when they're friends or enemies.

when he IS antagonistic, it's dramatic and heartbreaking and FUN. I like their banter in S1 the most but S3 as well, even if sometimes the writing for it is a bit meh lmao. Varian going all out on the whole villain thing makes way for endless entertainment, especially when he slips into Dork Mode in the middle of it.

What's more romantic than undergoing a corruption arc in tandem with the MC’s hero arc and having both your destinies tied to the point where your downfall is her becoming, and you're both set up to be a perpetual motion machine of chaos and balance?

I enjoy their rivalry more in S1 and their friendship more in S3, and I think I'm not alone given how their interactions have been gif'd to hell and back. After everything, they've obviously grown much closer.

All I'm saying is that Disney are cowards have missed their opportunity with these two.

Canon:

Some cute similarities I’ve found is that both get bonked on the head by their equipment, both have a knack for making Rube Goldberg machines, and both draw (and have drawn one another).

It's also so sweet how she always encourages him and her joy around him and his interests makes him bashful, like when she sees him at the science fair and goes "Hi, Varian!". It's so cute.

And there's also the entirety of The Alchemist Returns. This being one of Many favorite scenes:

something I personally found really 👀 about them is how Rapunzel KNEW what Varian's plan was. She knows how he thinks, and he prepared for it cus he knows how she thinks. This mutual understanding of each other's thought process is VERY Inch Resting, esp since that moment could’ve easily been written so Cass figured out his plans as a show for her strategic thinking but no! Raps knows him well and vice versa.

And If I may skip ahead a bit, There's also their relationship in S3. and Yknow, I'm actually not done watching S3 yet (I know, I know) but from what I've seen, the number of Fond Gazing scenes is delightful. Also, I'm forever thinking of this moment:

I'm sure there would be a lot to say about them in S3, and I might return to add my thoughts once I'm done w it, but for now...

Complaint (oh boy):

Rapunzel is, everything considered, the only person who's ever really respected him and is his friend. Varian only has his dad and her (and debatably Cass and Eugene, though in S1 they still seem to have a 'this is my friend's friend so I'll be nice to him' approach).

She doesn't use him or undermine his sorrow, she gets him. Which is why her dislike near the end was so. Confusing. She canonically values promises (to quote: "I never break my word. Ever.") so her having to actually break a promise, and to him, she'd surely understand and sympathize.

I personally find it… Odd. that her reaction was hatred. At first, at least. Raps is an empathetic person, her whole schtick is inspiring villains/criminals to reform. Seeing her friend in the process of becoming one and, for once, not knowing what she’s supposed to do or how, should’ve made her distraught and feeling helpless. I could see her tipping into anger during the automaton fight, where everything sort of snaps as it dawns on her that she can’t save everyone here by talking it out or being nice.

I wish their development nearing the s1 finale was based more on the pain of having to go against one another rather than anger. Varian has to save his one family member, Rapunzel has to be a princess (and I don't think it’d be a reach to say she’d go to similar lengths to save any of her loved ones, let alone her only loved one).

Also, I'm gonna bitch here for a second and say: you're telling me he was helping her figure out more about the rocks and we don't see a SINGLE scene of her sneaking out to study the rocks with him? Or any mention of them communicating afterward? I really wish we had more screentime with those two but since we didn't, I’ve chosen to believe that they did interact often in the 6-month duration of S1 and were good friends. [the whining of a harrowed shipper]

Another thing, It struck me how... Present, Varian was in her thoughts, even after S1. We didn't get to see much of him or their friendship but she obviously cared, that much was implied. Cared enough that his cries echoed in her nightmares even though, at that point, he hadn't shown any resentment towards her. He's her guilt and the reminder of her destiny, that she can’t stay as simply ‘Princess Rapunzel’. Because of him, for him, she becomes more.

Also, because of this noticeable presence, his subsequent absence is damn near palpable in S2. When I was watching, I was just wondering to myself if we’d see wanted posters for him sometime soon, if he’ll still manage to follow them, even if just in spirit. It’s why him appearing as her fear/sadness felt so right to me, I almost stood up and cheered

episodes after the storm, where Rapunzel doesn't think to check in or visit him herself, feel so SO out of character. This has been noted before, but there are times when the writing feels like it's fighting AGAINST the characters just to ensure the plot goes in a Specific Way even if it would make sense for it to go differently.

(Though It's beyond me why they had to have Raps get a note from Varian when THAT episode could've gone similarly if Raps went by her own volition.)

To me, if they allowed the characters to lead the plot based on their own internal logic, morals, etc, Varian and Rapunzel arcs would’ve been more involved with one another and we would've gotten a deeper bond than what we did get in canon. It’s why I also think it makes waaay more sense for Varian to have been seeking out the moonstone as well. He's connected to them in his own way!

AND WHILE WE'RE ON THE TOPIC

Moonstone Varian (oh boy part 2):

I’ll say this now and I’ll say it with my finger pointed up so everyone knows I mean it: Varian being the one to speak of her destiny while black rocks sprout around him in her dreams, being the only one to translate and understand the scroll piece, and his colors being LITERALLY CALLED MOONSTONE BLUE, the fact that Varian wasn't her "other half" or the Moonstone holder was BULL.

Moon Cass vs Moon Varian is a whole ramble of its own so I won't get into it too much (my thoughts could be summarized here and here). Just know, it should've happened. Their arcs should've been switched.

I mean… his design, man…. In s1 it’s a stark contrast to Rapunzel; blue and pink, dark and light, simple and intricate. Plus, him being the only one with Eccentric Hair besides Raps… C’MON MAN.

But the dream thing is what I’m really hung up on, it’s as if he's set up as knowing more, or at least trying to learn more. He's the first one shown to have a connection to the Dark Kingdom, he's the one who relates the rocks to Rapunzel and the Sundrop, it would've made so much sense if he broke out in s2 and followed the rocks as well.

They could've both had the same goal, making way for a slowburn enemies to rekindled friendship arc.

Keeping them separated when it would make sense to weave their arcs together was dissapointing. Disney knew they'd be too powerful 😔

TL;DR: They're an amazing pair with lotsa canon set up and had the potential to become something more but the writers did my boy Varian so dirty and I'm gonna be redirecting my bitterness about it into drawing them kissing. The End.

#tts #varipunzel #thank you for the ask! so sorry it took this long askljas #I didn't share much of my hcs/fanon interpretations but this was getting lenghty and my brain can only focus on text for so long #maybe another time!#🌞🧪#meta #mani.txt #mail? in MY chicken coop?

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 13

Hello friends we have come to the end of Cult Girl. Thank you all for hyping me up throughout this story and giving me the confidence to actually post my work. Y/n and Hannibal throw a dinner party.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the entire kitchen in that homey mid-morning glow. You were enjoying your coffee and scrolling through an article on your phone.

"Senator Hatch reportedly coughed up his late wife's toe on the floor of the precinct." You read out loud. "Huh. Wonder how that could have happened."

You side-eyed Hannibal, who was contentedly sharpening his knives. Placing a rather large meat cleaver to the side, he met your gaze. "I have my ways."

You finished off your coffee and brought the mug to the sink. "There was no way Theresa was going to survive that night, was there?"

"Clever girl." Hannibal praised.

"You were going to kill her if I didn't, were you?" You felt a smile coming on. "Did everything turn out as expected?"

"Darling, this all went much better than I could have ever hoped for." He smirked. "See, I had the whole evening mapped out. I was hoping you'd be the one to deliver justice and kill her, but I had to prepare for the possibility that you wouldn't."

You folded your arms and leaned against the island. "Is that why I was so sick that day?"

You could have sworn you saw some hesitation in Hannibal's face. Maybe even a touch of regret. "Yes. You needed an alibi. It was as easy as removing a single birth control pill from your packet. You'd see it was missing and think you'd already taken your medicine-"

"So I'd neglect to take my focus meds." You cut in. "Yeah, I knew something was off."

"By the end of the day, you'd be experiencing full withdrawal symptoms." Hannibal nodded. "I don't take any pleasure in upsetting the delicate balance of your brain chemistry, and for that I am sorry. I did what I had to."

"Yeah, don't ever do that again." You ordered, no disarming smile in sight. "I need those meds to function."

"I promise you, darling," Hannibal said, sincerely. "I would never keep you from being anything but your very best. I was just looking after you."

"I suppose now that all this is out in the open, you won't need to pull any shit like that again." You muttered. "But I'm still going to keep my pills at my apartment."

"That reminds me." He said. "Would you like to invite your roommates for dinner tonight? I've prepared a wonderful Spanish-inspired menu that's perfect for entertaining."

"I'd love for you to meet my friends, but, they all keep such weird hours I doubt they'll all be free tonight." You shrugged. "I'll give them a call though."

"Wonderful." He smiled. "You make arrangements while I prepare the kitchen."

You stepped into the office and called up Pilar. She answered within the minute.

"[F/N]!" She near shouted. "Holy fuck, how are you doing?"

"I'm actually doing..." you looked back into the kitchen, watching your beloved Hannibal in his element. "Really well."

"I heard about your cousin." Pilar cut in. "One down, two to go."

You snorted. "No fucking shit."

"Sorry, was that okay for me to say?" She apologized. "I know you said Theresa was a bitch, but it's your trauma and I-"

"No, you're fine." You laughed. "She was a bitch. Hey, do you have any plans tonight?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so." She answered. "Why?"

"Hannibal wants to invite you all for dinner tonight." You said with an audible smile. "Y'know, to celebrate the bitch's death."

"Yo! Steph!" Pilar shouted across the room. "Wake Randy up! We're having dinner at [F/N]'s rich boyfriend's house!"

You could make out Stephanie's voice in the background. "It's about damn time. We've been waiting for her to redistribute the wealth."

"She means thank you for the invitation." Pilar corrected.

"It's not like I had to twist his arm or anything. It was his idea." You chuckled. "He loves having guests. And excuses to dress up."

"Oh so we're getting fancy, huh?" Pilar's voice turned up in excitement.

"Hey [F/N]!" Randy snatched the phone from Pilar. "Text me the menu for tonight. My girlfriend'll steal a nice bottle of wine to pair. She's a pro, she works over at Cavatappi's wine and spirits."

"Much obliged, Randy." You said. "I'll see you guys at seven."

You returned to the kitchen with a smile. "They're coming."

"Well, we don’t have a moment to lose, then." Hannibal placed something wrapped in butcher paper on the counter. "Come now. Let me show you how to properly prepare a heart.

You and Hannibal spent the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon preparing a bountiful meal. You reveled in the irony of finally finding a space for Theresa in your life. That space just so happened to be on the stove.

Seven came far too quickly, but your friends were always a welcome sight. You greeted them at the door with hugs, Hannibal watching with stoic adoration.

"Guys, this is Hannibal Lecter, my partner." You introduced. "Hannibal, this is Pilar, Stephanie and Miranda."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies." Hannibal greeted. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

"Here you go, Dr. Lecter." Randy handed him a bottle of wine. "Thank you for inviting us."

Hannibal examined the bottle. "Yes, this will pair quite nicely with our meal. Thank you very much. [F/N], could you show our guests to the dining room?"

You nodded and accepted the bottle, given the extra responsibility of pouring. You led your friends to the dining room and wasted no time distributing the alcohol.

"A toast." Stephanie rose her glass. "Too many of history's worst have had the privilege of dying on their own terms. Today, we celebrate the death of one who didn't: Theresa [L/N]."

"She will join her sisters Nancy Reagan and Madame Nhu in hell tonight." You concurred, tapping your glasses together with a series of satisfying clinks.

"Okay, you need to spill." Randy scooted her chair up and leaned towards you. "How the hell did you get away with it?"

"Well, it helped a lot that her husband was already a felon." You teased. "If I didn't kill her, he was going to eventually."

Pilar made a face. "I can't believe it took actual murder to get that latter-day lump thrown in prison."

"Well, the LDS church is a very influential organization with a stronghold on all of Utah." You explained. "There's a long history of legitimizing sex abuse there."

"We know, cult girl." Stephanie laughed. "You remind us every time your pedophile cousin-in-law comes up. Relax and take your victories where you can get them.”

“Ladies,” Hannibal entered. You rushed to his side to help him with the dinner plates. “Have we ever tried organ meat before?”

Everyone’s eyes found Pilar.

“Braised liver is delicious and you guys are just cowards.” Pilar protested. “I will die on this hill.”

Hannibal smiled and presented your friends with their plates. “You are a woman of good tastes, Pilar. Our first course is Riñones al Jerez.”

“Kidneys.” Randy translated. “Who’s kidneys are we eating today, Dr. Lecter?”

He tilted his head. “Theresa’s, of course.”

“I don’t care whose organs you harvested.” Stephanie said, her eyes rolling back into her head. “This is delicious.”

You and Hannibal shared a glance and a smile.

You and your roommates devoured the Riñones al Jerez, then dug into the next serving of heart stewed with chickpeas and olives. You finished off the evening with natillas de leche and a bottle of Sauternes Hannibal just happened to have lying around.

“This is the first time since like, Keith Raniere got sentenced that I’ve seen [F/N] happy-drunk.” Stephanie observed.

“Or even just... happy." Pilar said, looking at Hannibal. "I'll have some of whatever she's having, please."

"My pleasure." Hannibal poured her another glass of wine.

Your phone began to buzz on the table, capturing the attention of your guests. You didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Nobody else in the world had such horrid timing.

"Shit, you've got to answer it here!" Stephanie pleaded. "So we can all give her a piece of our mind!"

You looked over to Hannibal, who you knew was just as curious.

You dragged the answer icon across the screen and put it on speaker. You gestured for your friends to be quiet. "Yeah?"

"Well look who finally decided to pick up." Grandma said. "Thank you for gracing me with your attention. I know you have so much going on right now, you're just too busy to pick up the phone and talk to your grieving grandmother."

"For your information..." you stumbled over your words. "I was interrogated by the police yesterday. I think that counts as having something going on."

"Are you drunk?" Her voice was laced with a disproportionate level of disgust.

"I'm grieving too, Beatrice." You counter. "What, suddenly you're the only one who can drink the pain away? That's not very democratic of you."

"In your state, you shouldn't even be thinking of alcohol!" Grandma scolded. "You of all people should know the effects alcohol has on an unborn baby."

You smacked yourself on the head. Of course Theresa would plant a seed to fuck you over one last time. "Did Theresa actually tell you I was pregnant?"

"It was her last message to me, actually. Anyway, you're coming home." Grandma said, without so much as waiting for a response. "I won't have my great grandchild living in that dangerous city that your cousin was killed in."

You exchanged looks with your friends, who were going through the same combination of emotions as you were. Grandma's words just seemed to fade out as you shared an entire nonverbal conversation with the people around you.

"And you're leaving that terrible, terrible man."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and looked at you, waiting to see how you'd respond. You knew what you had to do. It was finally time. You did something you should have done a long time ago.

"No." You said, your nerves loosened by the wine.

"What?"

"No. And I mean it." A big smile crossed your lips. "Theresa lied to you. I'm not pregnant. And you have to live with the fact that your granddaughter's last words to you were a blatant lie."

Hannibal looked at you with pride and your friends began to silently gas you up with encouraging gestures. "

"...And that you're the only one to blame for her deception." You continued. "You raised her in your own image."

"This is why I refuse to let you raise my great grandchild with that man!" She wailed. "He's twisted your mind against me! He's made you cruel!"

"Hannibal made me see clearly that you made me cruel." You said with absolute certainty. "You'll never see me again."

"Don't be like your mother, [F/N]." Grandma snarled. "Don't cut people out for trying to help."

"You'll never see me again." You repeated and decided to leave it at that. You ended the call and blocked the number, joined by an eruption of excitement from your friends.

It was finally over. Your life could truly begin.

#hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #cult girl

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codenamesazanka · 4 years

Text

TOGA!

and the answer she’s looking for: a very long ramble.

Toga! Toga Himiko! Her quirk lets her transform into anyone she wants, provided she’s got their blood. When she was 14, she reportedly stabbed a classmate she had a crush on to take a sip of his blood, and from then on, she’s been on the run. Spent the next two years on the streets, dodging Heroes and avoiding capture, until she joined the League of Villains. Now she’s 17 years old - still a minor, though, and that’s likely why Giran says her name has been kept under wraps, at least until Kamino:

So that’s 14+ years of her life living as a “normal” kid, going to school, having friends, living with a family— as far as we know, out of the League, Toga is the one member that had been living most adjacent to the standard norms of the world; been enculturated/socialized as a person living in a Hero society. (Shigaraki was raised from age 5 by All For One, Twice was on his own as an homeless orphan for more than half his life, Spinner was a hikkikomori, etc) She was from “the other side”, she was from the “right” side, part of the civilian population that Heroes had a duty to protect.

In other words, she would’ve learned, from an early age, that when she’s in trouble, a Hero will come save her. Heroes are good people, Heroes are there to help, Heroes protect everyone. Symbols of justice and peace, associated with fairness and kindness and all that nice stuff, etc etc. Heroes are people who save people.

So... why is Toga so scared of Heroes?

Ever since her attack on her classmate, she’s been running, desperate to avoid capture. When I say ‘desperate’, I do mean desperate.

Everyday she has had to run, and so she had to learn some street smarts, gain new skills, train her instincts. Within two years, she’s mastered her quirk and all it entails - like observing people, behaving just as the original person did or close enough, and measuring the exact amount of blood needed to finish her goal without killing the person (Camie). Within two years, she can hold her own in a knife fight and more, she has learned to be sneaky as heck and gain a frankly supernatural level of hiding, and who knows what else.

Which is understandable. She’s up against multiple Pro Heroes, which Shigaraki has said regular Villains don’t stand a chance against, probably because Heroes are trained combatants who have mastered their quirks and have years of experience. So she had to learn fast and quick. Toga says the trick is to not see the training as training - because to her, it wasn’t, it was like being thrown into a rushing river to learn how to swim or else drown.

But still— why? Why this amount of fear? Why throw her lot with Villains and the underworld at 14 years old, instead of going to juvenile court and rehabilitation?

Why in the world did she think she’ll be better off hiding among vicious, dangerous Villains than Heroes that are supposed to help her, like she’s been (supposedly, I admit) taught her whole life? Heroes, who are people who save other people.

And she’s still scared! She’s joined up with the nation’s most notorious terrorists, but she kept her wariness. Moment more Class A students - kids younger than her, still just trainees - shows up, she’s retreating, she picking flight over fight.

—saying she doesn’t want to die. It’s a statement that I think we can logically say comes from a belief of something like, “Heroes can kill me,” which then also logically means—

To Toga, getting caught by Heroes will mean she’ll be killed by them.

No, she’s not insane. No, she’s not some airheaded teenager prone to melodrama. No, she’s not a ‘psychopath’. Toga’s got some strange ideas about love, but otherwise she’s perfectly functional: she’s clever, she’s able to assess the situation and risks and act upon that information, and she’s shown to be observant and empathetic to her teammates, especially Jin. Any ‘damage’ she has isn’t from reasoning or understanding social norms and cues. She’s smart, she gets people, and she knows that as a Villain, she’s liable to be executed by a Hero. Even if that was just a fear before, she’s now seen it happen in reality to Twice.

I think we can all agree that in a civil society, people who have done wrong still deserves to have the right to due process and a trial, and not be executed right then and there on the street. That’s the agreement most societies has come to on conflict resolution - innocent until proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt, and despite what crimes you’ve committed, there’s a system to give you a fair chance for amends and atonement. Ideally, when you know you’ve done something wrong, you’ll turn yourself in because you expect to still be treated as a person and that the justice you’ll receive is appropriate. At the very least, that’s the better option than living the rest of your life on the run, always looking over your shoulder, possibly committing even more crimes because you’ve run out of options in your effort to not get caught.

But that’s not what’s happening here, with Toga. Whatever she learned from her 14 years of life in Hero Society tells her that now that she has committed a crime, a Hero will come and kill her.

And that’s kinda messed up. Why is that?

Putting aside Twice’s situation for now, we haven’t seen blatant proof of this - that if you’re a Villain, you might as well have a target painted on your head for a sniper’s bullet. What we have seen is the masses’ quick and harsh condemnation of potential criminals. Toga’s parents essentially disowned her after the stabbing incident.

But even with people who haven’t done anything wrong yet, people are so quick to judge.

“Does he even have a future?” That’s harsh, Journalist man. Bakugou’s a kid, 15 years old, he’s the victim here of a Villain plot, and here you’re talking about “no future” - meaning no career, no functional role in society, no chance for a normal life. That’s like giving him up for the dead. There’s not even a body and you’re already chipping in the words for the gravestone. Except maybe even worse, because there’s at least the courtesy to not speak ill of the dead; Villains tho, Villains are ‘bad’, ‘evil’, ‘violent’. Demon child.

What we have seen is a terrifying ostracization of anyone deemed criminal, considered acting against a Hero’s work, considered outside the norm. You’ve got people giving up on you, you’ve got your property getting vandalized—

And maybe you even eventually get a lost kid denied help for not looking like a proper victim.

If you’ve got any association with being a Villain, Heroes aren’t gonna help you. Even if that’s not true, I think people can be forgiven for thinking that from what we’ve seen. Toga certainly thinks this. Villains won’t be helped, even if they need it. That’s what she has gleaned from all her years living in Hero society; that’s what all the Heroes might do to her, if she ever gets caught, and she’s not getting caught to find out; and now that’s what she has seen, her friend dying right in front of her, killed by a Hero. Villains - and those who approach that label in any capacity - don’t get saved by Heroes; they are at best defeated, at worse killed.

So then, if Heroes are people who save other people, then who exactly are those who Heroes don’t save?

And that’s the answer she needs to know.

#nalslastworkingbraincell #Toga Himiko #Himiko Toga #bnha #mha #heroaca #long and pretentious #I’m sorry

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Petty Pair (Raymond/F!Reader)

Summary: Reader wants to fuck Raymond to spite his father. Raymond thinks that’s really hot, actually.

A/N: This idea came into my head and literally never left. It lives rent free in my head, and I hope you feel it now, too. Couple: Raymond/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, mild exhibitionism, getting caught Word Count: 5k

MASTERLIST

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There was a grand total of one functioning bar in this town at this hour of night. This drastic and unforgivable shortage of places for me to buy alcohol was also the only reason I found myself frequenting said bar.

After about an hour of swatting off a group of men that were objectively disgusting, I resigned myself to fate and the realization that the night would turn out no better than it would have if I hadn’t tried to get drunk on cheap liquor. I was ready to pack up, close out, and fuck off back home when it happened.

A familiar face walked through the door. Familiar, I suppose, was a stretch. I’d only seen his face in one picture – a picture I’m pretty sure was meant to be thrown away. It stuck out to me because it was the first indication that I got that Donald Wadsworth had a son. And a cute son, much less.

My brain scanned through buried memories to try and find the one where his recently divorced mother had told me his name. I knew the memory existed somewhere, surrounded under a mountain of bullshit, but it was so hard to focus when I was watching the poor kid shuffle over to the bar and plop himself down against the counter.

It had taken me that long to realize that he was wearing pajamas. Cute.

His fashion choices and bedhead paired nicely with the pout he wore when he shyly scanned the room. Altogether, everything about him assured me that he literally couldn’t have been less intimidating if he tried. That theory was further solidified by the way he shrunk against the counter when he saw me approach. By the time I sat down next to him, he’d all but disappeared under his jacket.

“Hey, you’re... Raymond, right?” The name came to me at the same time his eyes locked with mine. The dark hazel color shone almost gold in the orange hue of the bar.

“You’re Donald’s son?” I asked as warmly as possible while using his father’s name. Which is to say, not warm at all.

“Unfortunately,” Raymond droned with a similar disdain.

“I’ll say,” I chuckled as I leaned forward to match his slouch over the bar. “I work with your dad.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That alone seemed to cause a shift in his entire demeanor. It didn’t surprise me. Most of the women in this town were brainwashed into thinking that if a guy didn’t outright assault you at first glance, he was probably a solid dude.

And Donald Wadsworth was not a solid dude.

“He’s like, a giant fucking asshole,” I said.

Raymond’s eyes lit up.

“Right?!” he shouted back, practically falling from his seat in his enthusiasm as he continued to yell, “I know!”

There was no keeping it together with this caricature of a man, but I didn’t really want to, either. In the few seconds I’d interacted with him, everything about him changed from defensive to relaxed. Like all he needed was someone to tell him that it wasn’t all in his head.

Unfortunately, I was going to need to ask something of him. But I figured he wouldn’t mind what I was going to request.

“But hey, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. I have a favor to ask you.” I kept my tone even and nonchalant, trying to avoid coming off as parental.

He eyed me as warily as I expected, tugging his drink a little bit closer as he started to shrink in on himself again.

“I’m gonna be honest,” he mumbled, “there’s not really anything I can do to hurt him that I haven’t already tried.”

There was no need for self-degradation. Raymond might have thought he tried everything, but from his body language around a woman, it was safe to assume he’d never tried my plan.

“Wanna bet?”

Raymond sighed in surrender before he shrugged, “Sure. What’s the favor?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

It wasn’t my intention to wait until the drink was in his mouth before I spoke, but it was how it ended up happening. And almost instantaneously, he spat the drink out over the bar before calmly squeaking, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I want to have sex with you,” I repeated like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then I sought confirmation that was only a little important in the grand scheme of things. “You’re staying at his place, right?”

“Just for tonight, yeah—" he started, but all I heard was the ding of a checkmark on my mental list that meant we were cleared for the next step.

“Great. We should do it there, then. Tonight.”

Raymond’s tongue stuck out from between his teeth, the visual of restraint matching his narrowed, shifty eyes and fidgety legs.

“I feel like I’m missing something...” he muttered.

I heard him, but I didn’t really care. The clock was running, and I was ready to get something good out of this night. Possibly even two good things, if he ended up being as helpful as his cute, submissive demeanor implied.

“I’ll drive. You want to go now?”

“I— I mean, sure, yeah,” he stumbled over the words and his own feet as he left the bar. “We can… go have sex.”

I laughed at how cool he tried to sound because he definitely failed. I reached past him to drop cash on the bar and grabbed his hand on the way back. The amount of warmth stormed it in was shocking, considering all the blood seemed to be in his face, ears, and the tent in his pants. But the comfort of his fingers interlocking with mine on instinct did more for me than he knew.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Raymond was silent on the way out and into the car, which was about what I expected from him. Every glance his way would show the gears slowly turning in his head, like he was still trying to grasp whether my proposition was serious. Like I was trying to murder him or something.

When the car started, so did some sliver of confidence in him, although he still cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you need directions, or…?”

“No, I’ve been to his place before.”

That caution and suspicion returned and multiplied, and before I even pulled out of the parking lot he had shrugged down in the seat and buried his face in his hands.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck my dad,” he whined in the most dramatic manner possible.

I couldn’t blame him for the theatrics, although the implication was not at all appreciated.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I spat, my face curling into a pure expression of disgust. At least we both felt similarly on that note.

“Thank god.” The relief flowed through him, allowing him to sit back up to his previously half-straight position. I decided that it was probably best to cut him some slack for assuming I would ever fuck that devil of a man, because I got the sinking suspicion that he might have known a couple girls his age that had done exactly that.

That thought led me back to the very reason I was there at all, and a chill ran down my spine as I muttered without thinking, “Wasn’t for a lack of his trying, though.”

The whole tone in the car shifted in seconds. One glance over at Raymond confirmed the repressed rage and sadness rolling off of him in waves that were more accurately described as a tsunami.

It was just unsettling enough that I snapped my eyes back to the road, giving a nervous chuckle to tell him that it wasn’t that serious. I didn’t need him to defend my honor, or anything. It did enough to quell most of the rage, but that self-pitying sadness was still there when he let out a shy, quiet plea.

“I don’t want to pry but… Will you tell me what this is about?”

“You really want to know?”

It was one thing to know the vague generalities of how much his father sucked, but another thing entirely to paint him a vivid depiction of what he was willing to do.

“Yeah,” he said with fiddling hands, “I think.”

I think he was trying to do me a favor. I think listening to my story was meant to be a sign to me that there were people who would care — people who would believe me. He clearly didn’t actually want to hear the story, but I appreciated his willingness to experience some discomfort to make up just a small part of his father’s misdeeds.

“So, I’m new at the school, right? It’s awkward. It’s a small town and everyone knows everyone,” I started, trying to look over at Raymond whenever I could to show him that I was doing alright. The poor thing looked like he needed the reassurance more than I did.

“Your dad very quickly tried to take me under his wing, despite my very obvious discomfort.”

“Sounds like him,” he interrupted with a pissed-off murmur.

“Yeah. I just kind of accepted his help because I was too scared to say no, but then one day he…” My voice trailed off, the words getting clogged in my throat and muddled on my tongue. It wasn’t that bad of a story; it should have been easier to explain. But something about Raymond being there, him listening to me so intently and with such a strong desire to make it better, that made it hard to speak. Eventually, I managed to start again. “He cornered me in the damn teacher’s lounge and—“

“Please don’t give me a reason to kill him. I’ve been toeing that line my whole life, and I will definitely do it.”

That time when Raymond cut me off, it was very clear to me that he was not kidding. He enunciated the words so clearly, venom dripping from his tongue and his chest heaving with a determination coming through clear, despite his best efforts to hide it.

He was a sweet kid.

“He didn’t try to touch me or anything. It wasn’t like that,” I said with an awkward smile, reaching over to pat his thigh. The action alone seemed to calm him, almost like a dog that was being told to stand down.

He was a really cute kid.

But I had to finish this stupid story. I had to give him all the information so that he would know exactly why I’d invited myself into his bed. Sex is sort of a big deal, you know? I mean, not always, but the other party in spite sex should probably know who exactly the target is.

“He just made it very clear that he felt I owed him something, and I kindly told him to fuck off,” I concluded just as we pulled up the dirt drive. The bumps in the road seemed to shake some other memories in Raymond, and he just shook his head to rid himself of those, along with the story he’d just heard.

He looked over at me with a new understanding and something else.

“So that’s what this is about?”

“Yep,” I said with a pop of my lips to match the sound of my car door opening. He clambered out of the car much less gracefully, which was funny considering he’d had significantly less to drink.

But I figured I would have the decency not to laugh, instead just joining him on the passenger side of the car to finish our conversation before we went inside. I wanted to give him the chance to change his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Although I was the one who would have to deal with the brunt of the downfall, Donald wasn’t my family. Like, I wouldn’t be at his holiday dinners. Then again, I’m not sure Raymond would be, either.

When I looked up from the thought, Raymond was staring at me. It wasn’t like before, though. There was nothing suspicious or any sign of concern in his eyes. No, they were filled with a very different feeling.

“You want to fuck me just to spite my dad?” he asked with a deadly seriousness.

I thought about it for exactly one second before I shrugged at the extremely accurate summary.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“God,” Raymond practically groaned, throwing himself on me and pinning me against the car with his hips before he growled, “that’s so fucking hot.”

Those same lips that produced the words quickly covered mine with the same force he’d used to pin me against the metal. I didn’t fight him at first because, well, I didn’t want to. It was the first clear sign he’d given that he really wanted to do this, and who was I to argue with how he expressed his consent?

Also, he was like, a really, really good kisser. The desperation he felt came through in his tongue as it tangled with mine, drawing a quiet, muffled moan from me that alerted me to how quickly this would escalate if I didn’t shove the boy off me.

Which, I did.

“Raymond— inside,” I ordered with the little breath I had left.

He was confused for a second, almost like he’d blacked out in the meantime. But then his tongue swept over his lips, his hands digging through his pockets for his keys before he hastily answered, “Right. Let’s go.”

It made sense to be quiet then, as the two of us tip-toed through the much too large house. Our occasional giggles were louder than our feet, and the whole experience was seriously reminiscent of sneaking into your boyfriend’s house as a teenager. And when we walked through his bedroom door, the sight stirred up even older memories. From the UFO poster and alien sheets to the boxes filled with dinosaur toys and action figures, I felt like I’d walked straight through a time machine into Raymond’s childhood.

“Sorry about… all of this,” he said with an overly apologetic tone, like this scene didn’t perfectly suit what I was planning. Like it wouldn’t be salt in the wound for Donald to see me fucking his son in the most juvenile room I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Ugh, it’s perfect. You are literally a man-child.”

I didn’t mean it as an insult, but his nervous shifting told me he took it that way. But when I kicked off my shoes and started to disrobe my outer layers, it was becoming obvious to him again just how serious I was about this whole thing.

“Sorry, but—“

“Stop saying sorry, Raymond.”

“Sorry,” he squeaked back, doing the exact thing I’d just told him not to do. I shot him a warning glance and watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in return. Then, still worrying the hem of his pajama shirt between his fingers, he looked away as he asked, “Are you sure you actually want to have sex with me?”

I was a little too busy at first to answer him. I was already rustling through the bedside table to find a condom that I was absolutely positive would be there. When I finally found it, I turned my attention back to the blushing boy.

“Why are you asking? Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes!” he answered with a clear excitement, only to lose it immediately. “But I would have wanted to have sex with you even if my dad wasn’t a pervert.”

“Awww, thanks,” I cooed with feigned sincerity. Raymond was still just pouting, though. I was learning more each second just how starved of affirmation this boy had been. But it wasn’t like I could just start praising him; the poor thing would have whiplash if I wasn’t careful. There was no worse mood-killer than crying, either, so I settled for a joke.

“I’d probably have sex with you, too.”

“Probably?” he responded with a smile and a seat next to me.

“It’s pretty likely, depending on how much we talked first,” I explained as I helped him out of his coat. I even managed to start undoing his pajama top buttons before he realized it was happening.

He didn’t stop me when he did.

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or not,” he said, instead.

With a coquettish grin, I leaned in to whisper against his lips, “And you never will.”

There was absolutely no resistance from Raymond when I grabbed hold of his collar, tugging him on top of me as I laid down on the tiny twin bed. Despite all of his insecurity, he didn’t hesitate to kiss me again, either. This time it was somehow even more heated, like he was trying to pour all of his heart into it.

I almost warned him that he had better cool it if he didn’t want to risk getting me hooked, but I was too late. He was already busy undoing the buttons on my own top and gently kneading my chest through the fabric of my bra, and I was quickly losing track of which of us was more into what was happening.

It didn’t really matter, but just in case he was still worried that I might not want to be there, I snuck my hand down and under the waistband of his pajamas.

“Fuck!” he cursed in a hushed whisper, his body buckling forward far enough that he almost dropped all his weight on me. It was so damn cute that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t be too loud or we’ll never get to the fun part,” I warned, my voice barely a whisper in his ear.

His very eloquent response was a breathless, “Shit.” I couldn’t blame him, though. It was honestly more than I expected him to be able to enunciate when I grabbed hold of his dick and began making soft strokes.

It was obvious that he was trying very hard to stay quiet, but the whimpers and whines were falling from his mouth so quickly that I was forced to kiss him just to muffle the noise. Thankfully, Raymond took the hint that he needed to be quiet and decided to redirect the attention from himself back to me. He accomplished that task by pulling away from me just far enough that he could grab hold of my pants and underwear and roughly pull them down my thighs. The speed and force lit a fire deep in my gut, my whole body breaking out in goosebumps as I allowed myself to enjoy just how badly he wanted me. I’m sure the spite thing had a lot to do with it, too, but it had been a long time since a man was so clearly into me. It was an unavoidable conclusion in every touch from him.

A much-too-loud moan caught in my throat when he returned, slipping his fingers into my heat as he laid another feverish kiss against my lips. But it broke almost immediately with his own choked moan, followed by a low, breathy observation.

“You weren’t kidding about wanting this.”

“Nope,” I replied quickly, trying to control the noises coming out of my mouth by replacing them with words. It only sort of worked when I keened, “Fuck, you’re better at this than I thought.”

Raymond didn’t even stop, continuing to curl his fingers inside of me with each thrust. He did smile, though. A cheeky, borderline annoying smile that told me he knew what a bastard he was being.

“Again, I can’t tell if that is a compliment,” he said with an overwhelming amount of sarcasm as he watched me squirm under him.

I chose to ignore the taunt, opting to grab the condom from the bedside table and throw it directly at his face instead. “Put the fucking condom on, Raymond.”

There was less commentary from the peanut gallery from that point on. I did enjoy the show, though. As I removed my bra, I watched with rapt fascination as he stripped himself of his clothes. My desire grew at an exponential rate at the sight of him slipping the condom on. I’d gotten some idea of the size of him with my hand, but to see something so lewd in such an innocent room and on his shy little figure was something else.

Raymond shrunk a little under my gaze, only regaining his confidence when he saw the way my teeth dragged over my bottom lip. I ran my hands over my body that was still on display for him, thoroughly enjoying the way I could make his eyes go wherever I wanted with such a simple motion.

“Fuck me, Raymond.”

I heard his breath catch and watched the shiver flow through him at the order. Sure enough, he started to follow my instructions and lined himself up at my entrance with adorably shaky hands. But then, right before I got what I came for, he paused.

“Are you su—“

I was tired of waiting. Hooking my leg around his waist, I forced Raymond to thrust forward. My assistance didn’t take any of the pleasure out of it when he was finally, fully inside of me. I couldn’t stop the way my back arched, pressing my chest against his with a wanton cry.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled into my hair, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he adjusted to the new set of sensations.

I only gave him a few seconds to get used to it, fully ready to get the release that already felt so close.

“Fuck me,” I whined, already starting to roll my hips against the boy blubbering curses into my skin.

“O-Okay,” he muttered in the most adorable fashion.

That shyness was contrasted strongly by what followed. For all his whimpers and trembling, Raymond didn’t seem to mind the way the bed would creak under us. In fact, it seemed that he was playing his own game, trying to elicit as many noises from me as he could get from the bed.

On instinct, my hands rose to try to still the headboard. But to my surprise, they never made it. The man above me had grabbed hold of one wrist, pinning it against the pillow to stop me. That simple, thoughtful act was enough to almost send me over the edge right then, but I held on for what I knew would come.

My moans were another story. They seemed so inevitable, with Raymond slamming into me with a progressively rougher force until I rode that line between pain and pleasure. I could see it on his face, too, that we were barreling full speed to the inevitable.

So, it was as good a time as any for me to set the next step in motion. With full volume and a pitch nearly an octave higher than usual, I screamed, “Yes, Raymond!”

That cheeky little bastard laughed. That noise was such music to my ears, that I couldn’t just stop there.

“God, yes! Fuck me harder!” I cried dramatically while drawing out the words. In a way, I was over exaggerating for effect, but I was also actually having a great time. In fact, it was the best sex I’d had in a long time.

Raymond, catching on to the plan that I’d never explicitly explained, joined in with his own chant of my name, mixed with deep moans rumbling in his chest. I ran my nails down his back, seeking to elicit the higher pitched sounds I knew he was capable of when I realized just how much fun I was having with him.

It was also, of course, super fucking hot. But how often do you get to have this much fun with a random one night stand you found at the bar? Not often enough, I decided.

“Please, Raymond! Harder!” I begged, both in accordance with my previous moans and also because it was what I needed.

I couldn’t decide on a word to describe that wild look on his face, but Raymond had no problem following through with my request. Releasing my wrist, he sat up on his knees, grabbing hold of my hips and lifting them so that he could come down between them at a new angle.

That angle, it seemed, left him bottoming out inside of me with each brutal thrust. My legs were actually shaking around him, my back barely touching the bed as I threw my head back on that damn alien pillowcase.

The clacking of the headboard against the plaster shook the hung UFO picture, which ended up clattering behind it with about as much grace and subtlety as Raymond and I shared in that moment.

But that crashing also masked the sound of the door slamming open, just as I’d been waiting for. And for a long moment, neither of us even looked over to the light filtering in from the hallway. Instead, we locked eyes with each other as the two of us simultaneously reached our peak.

I was so, so glad that I didn’t look away. I kept my eyes firmly on Raymond as he threw his head back, forcing himself as deep in me as he could and holding me against him as I nursed him through his orgasm with my own. His mouth, though dropped open, was curved in a satisfied smile, one last moan tearing through the two of us before he promptly collapsed on top of me.

Then, it finally came. Donald’s voice bellowing, “What the fuck is going on in here?!”

—

As Raymond and I sat in my car that night, there was a much more relaxed atmosphere. Whether the catharsis was from the sex or the big fuck you to his father, the two of us were just basking in the afterglow of the overall experience.

Of course, he was also laughing at the fact I was currently wrapped up in his alien bedsheet.

“We could’ve gotten your clothes, you know.”

“There was no way in hell I was going to drop this sheet in front of that man,” I said through my laughter, my mind replaying the chaos of the last few minutes over again in my head.

“Probably a good call,” Raymond answered.

But then another thought occurred to me, which caused my face to contort into a disgusted grimace.

“You’d better go get my underwear and bra later, though. He cannot keep those.”

“Will do. Promise,” he said with a little nod that ended with him staring at me with an absolutely smitten look plastered on his face.

“You can keep them, though,” I offered, reaching over and pretending like I could actually fix the birds nest on his head.

“Thanks. I’m flattered,” he said while chasing after my hand that eventually settled on his cheek. His face was still flushed, his eyes still only half opened as he nearly fell asleep against my palm. I wondered if it was from the orgasm, or if it was just the first time in a while he’d felt safe enough to do it. He must’ve seen the worry in my eyes, because he interrupted the thought with another question.

“Did you accomplish your goal?”

I thought about it for a second, dragging my fingers down his face before I pulled back with a sigh. “I feel satisfied,” I decided. “What about you?”

Raymond also took the chance to think about it before he nodded with more enthusiasm than before.

“I feel pretty good,” he said proudly.

“That’s all? Just pretty good?” I replied with an annoyed click of my tongue. I mean, I was wrapped in his bedsheets after just helping him achieve one of the most satisfying catharses of his life, and all he had to say was ‘pretty good?’

But then I saw it, that little sparkle in his eyes that showed me he just wanted to rile me up before he gave his real answer.

“It was fucking glorious.”

It wasn’t even the words that filled my heart with pride, but the way his whole expression softened as he said it. He obviously meant it with every fiber of his being, and I couldn’t help but fall in love a little bit at the sight.

“Sorry I got you kicked out,” I said to distract myself from that dangerous line of thought.

“Not the first time. Hopefully the last,” he nonchalantly shrugged as I turned the key in the ignition. We hadn’t actually planned on what to do from this point, but I certainly had some ideas.

“You can stay at my place,” I slurred through my exhaustion, “I have a guest bedroom if you feel weird staying in mine.”

But Raymond didn’t answer. He just laughed, shaking his head and rubbing a heavy hand over his tired eyes.

“What?” I asked, a little worried I’d made a mistake.

“Nothing,” he reassured with that stupid fucking grin that was soon aimed straight at me, “it’s just… You’re asking me if I want to sleep with you. Again.”

“Yeah, what about it?” I laughed, turning to pull out of the driveway. The bumps didn’t bother Raymond that time.

“I’d love to,” he said as we turned onto the main road, his hand finding mine on the gear shift.

“Great.” Allowing the relief to flow through his hand and into me, I realized that the reason I’d had so much fun with this random one night stand was because a large part of me knew it was never going to be just that.

“You know, my bed’s not a twin, and it doesn’t creak, so…” I trailed off, hoping that he would be clever enough to put it together.

“So what?”

He was not. But that was okay, because I realized that was exactly what I loved about him.

“Never mind,” I sighed, “I’ll show you in the morning.”

——————————————————

(Tell me what you thought of this piece here!)

#raymond wadsworth #suburban gothic #suburban gothic fanfic #mgg fanfiction #mgg fanfic #matthew gray gubler fanfic #raymond wadsworth fanfic #raymond wadsworth fanfiction

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unfortunate17 · 3 years

Note

HI I JUST REALIZED YOU WROTE BETWEEN THE LINES WHICH IS MY COMFORT FIC AND JUST FAVORITE PIECE OF FANFICTION THANK YOU FOR BEING A GENIUS

Miss, you are too kind. Especially because your social media fic “all the trouble that we made” is on my mind constantly. I love the format of it so much, it’s so so creative and genuinely makes my whole week everytime you update (obv no pressure to do so take all the time you want!). Kaz being canceled on social media is such a hilarious concept to me and I laugh about it a little inside every time it crosses my mind

Now, instead of us just yelling nice things at each other, here’s a little (unedited) outtake from that fic because I don’t know how else to thank you for the kind words 😭

(yes I cut NINA for KUWEI bc I’m kind of a fool but I only regret it a little bit)

. . .

Nina’s never seen where Kaz Brekker chooses to lie his head at night. A small part of her childishly wonders if someone like him actually partakes in something as normal as sleep, though she’s sure that if Kaz were somehow able to fuel himself on spite and sarcasm alone, he absolutely would.

The inside is as bare and bleak and austere as she’s expecting. Kaz was no interior decorator and his lack of talent is apparent in the stark, clinical set-up. One narrow bed. A basin. A rickety slab of wood haphazardly laid across what looked to be fruit crates that clearly functioned as some sort of desk. The sheets on the bed are pulled so tight, Nina thinks she would’ve cut her fingers open trying to tuck herself in for the night.

The room is otherwise entirely, visibly empty, even though she knows Kaz likely has reams upon reams of Crow Club ledgers hidden somewhere in the space.

In fact, the only sign of residence comes from two coats tossed across the mismatched wood floor.

The two coats, and from Inej perched on the edge of said terrible desk, head thrown back mid-giggle, of course.

She’s currently half of a semi-embrace, fingers reaching up to brush through the back of Kaz’s horrifically uneven haircut as he stands between the spread of her legs, gloved fingers tapping mindlessly at her knees.

It’s disgustingly intimate and if Nina was any more sober, she would’ve been ashamed at her gall. Even from the awkward angle, Kaz’s face is illuminated with a kind of private fondness that’s clearly only reserved for one person.

“How much of this are you going to remember in the morning?” Kaz sounds amused, the grating roughness of his voice doing nothing to cover the way his words slur ever so slightly.

Inej leans back to assess him. There’s a look on her face that Nina’s seldom seen before, a closed mouthed smile that speaks of nothing but sly mischief. “Probably nothing,” she laughs again, tossing her hair over her shoulders. It hangs like a black curtain across her back. “Nina kept pouring me that sweet wine and let me tell you - ”

The wine is certainly what’s keeping Nina hidden at this doorway so perhaps it was the real hero of the equation. The hero and the nemesis.

Kaz’s gaze doesn’t move from Inej’s face. There’s something helpless in the way he looks at her, something that makes Nina ache for a long buried love and the safety it had promised her.

“Good,” he murmurs. Kaz brings one hand up to his mouth, biting down on the tips of two leather clad fingers until the glove slides off entirely. He discards it carelessly; neither of them turn to watch as it hits the floor, forgotten.

Nina’s heard the myth of Dirtyhands as often as anyone in the Barrel. The stories read of violence and dominance and blood and an unforgiving cruelty for the sake of cruelty. She wonders how they’d read if anyone were to witness the reverence with which Kaz slides a pale hand into Inej’s hair. The gentle way it cups the nape of her neck. The tender way Inej looks up at Kaz in return. Like he is the very axis of her world.

“Darling,” Kaz says quietly as Inej’s eyes flutter shut in what is most definitely pleasure. “I missed you.”

Nina steps away from the door, heart hammering. She thinks she’ll ask Jesper to have another drink with her instead. Inej was clearly preoccupied.

#ask #likefirings #between the lines kanej bullshit #kanej fanfiction

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rachelbethhines · 3 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - “Rapunzel Knows Best!” ( A first half of S3 Recap)

So I decided to place the recap after Be Very Afraid for several reasons. For starters it’s where the season three hiatus took place. It’s also framed like a cliffhanger episode the same as The Great Tree and Queen for a Day; so while Cassandra’s Revenge is technically the midseason finale, Be Very Afraid functionally servers this narrative purpose better. Finally I want to keep the Cassandra heavy stuff contained in it’s own recap later same as I did for Varian’s arc in season one.

Also keep in mind, everything I discussed in previous recaps still apply here. Nothings changed and you could argue that the issues I bring up now could have also apply to past seasons; they just happen to be at their worst here.

Here are the past recaps

To Filler or Not to Filler

Hey, What Ever Happened to That Varitas, Guy?

What Is the Point?

‘Whatta Twist’

And here are the episodes that’s covered in this recap

Rapunzel’s Return Part 1

Rapunzel’s Return Part 2

Return of the King

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne

No Time Like the Past

Beginnings

The King and Queen of Hearts

Day of the Animals

Be Very Afraid

Poorly Defined Conflicts

I’m not just talking about Cassandra’s lack of goals here either, though that is a part of it. I mean in several episodes the central conflict isn’t laid out clearly enough before being resolved. We flip from one set up to the next without ever resolving the first; like in Rapunzel’s Return when Cass and Varian fight for screen time or whenever Rapunzel is suppose to learn one lesson only for someone else to learn a completely different lesson in every other episode. And to this day I don’t know what Rapunzel and Feldspar’s subplot in Lost Treasure was suppose to be about.

There’s also of course the ill-defined overall conflict; which at this point has become convoluted and nonsensical to the extreme, and will only grow more aggravatingly stupid as the season progresses. The main villains lack clear goals, their motivations don’t align with previously stated facts, and the actual interesting conflict involving the threat of the rocks and their destruction of people’s lives and homes is just shoved under the rug and forgotten about.

There is no story without conflict. Having the conflict be all over the place is not only confusing but makes it harder for the audience to invest in what’s going on.

Failed Narrative Promises

Tying in with the above statement regarding conflicts, we have failed narrative promises. Rapunzel is repeatedly told to that she needs to learn something in several episodes only for her not to learn it at all. She either learns some unrelated ‘lesson’ that wasn’t established, (like in Rapunzel’s Return with her pervious goal about ‘opening up to others’ being switched out for a generic ‘responsibility’ lesson that at the last minute, where she doesn’t even do anything responsible,) or she winds up ‘teaching’ the opposite lesson to a different character thereby rewarding her for her bad behavior.

And that’s just within the induvial episodes themselves; there’s also broken narrative promises through out the overall story arc; like...

no justice/redemption for Lady Caine,

no acknowledgment that the Saporians are the victims of colonization

no conclusion regarding Corona’s murky past

no satisfying ending to Varian’s plot that sees everyone in involve grow

a poor copout of an explanation for Cassandra’s face/heel turn

The Dark Prince reveal going nowhere

The Brotherhood being put on a bus

King Frederic, or any royal, not being held accountable for their past actions

Lance’s new found responsibilities just being thrown away for the tenth time

The Disciples plot being being dropped

next to nothing in season two winds up being relevant

And Rapunzel, the protagonist of a coming of age story, fails to learn anything at all

I could probably go on but you get the gist. Tangled is incredibly frustrating show to watch because doesn’t deliver what it promises. You’re not being clever by ‘subverting audiences expectations’ unless you can justify your narrative decisions with previous set up. Tangled is too lazy to build proper set ups so it’s ‘twists’ leave you wanting to punch things rather then impressing you.

Character Assassinations

Every single character in Tangled the Series gets thrown under a bus, driven off a cliff, and then allowed to drown in the ocean of their completely unaware self-congratulatory smugness.

Rapunzel is turned into a bully

Cassandra is given the idiot ball to hold permanently

The King and Queen are lobotomized

Quinin gets replaced by a robot

The rest of the Brotherhood are pale shadows of what they could have been

Edmund is transformed from tragic complex figure into a dumb jerkoff who abuses his kid for a laugh

Zhan Tiri, once an ancient demon warlock, is reduced to a floating impotent ghost girl

The Saporians become poor hipster parodies

Cap is put on a bus

Any villain who isn’t Cass is gets ignored

Lance is infantilized to the point of absurdity

Eugene becomes a doormat

and poor Varian is forced to become a complacent victim to his abusers as oppose to being allowed to keeping his dignity

I think the only person who escapes this mass murder of characterization is freaking Calliope, and she’s hasn’t even appeared yet! (Well okay her and Trevor, maybe)

This all ties back into the poorly defined conflict and failed narrative promises. Rather than let the characters drive the story, they’ve become puppets to the plot, and plot is really stupid and forced, and circles back in on itself and is full of contradictions.

Manipulating the Audience’s Empathy to Do the Work for the Writers

The reason why the creators believe they can get away with such poor characterization and lazy writing is because they expect the audience to do all the heavy lifting for them.

Cass isn’t given an on screen reason for what she does because they’re hoping her fans will just automatically excuse her because they like her/relate to her and not, you know, get mad at the writers for dumbing her down. And after all who doesn’t love the creator’s pet? Meanies! That’s who!

No one calls out Rapunzel’s bullshit on screen, because if everyone likes her, then you, viewing audience, should too. Because if you have any sort of independent critical thinking abilities and a sense of right and wrong then clearly you’re ‘just a hater’.

Everyone should just shut up and be satisfied that Varian is even on screen now and be grateful for the scraps that they get cause he’s not the real point of the show and according to Chris ‘Varian fans aren’t real fans’. Even though they make up most of his viewing audience.

I could go on, but it’s just variations of the above. The writing in this series is very fond of gaslighting the audience and trying to trick them into justifying the absolute worst behaviors while desperately hoping they doesn’t noticed the continued downgrading and dismissal of characters they do like or once liked.

And the sad thing is, it’s worked. There are people to this day that still try to justify this show’s shitty morals and bend over backwards to excuse the likes of Rapunzel, Frederic, Cassandra, and Edmund. Worst, there are loud sections of the fandom, (usually on twitter) who think bullying is okay and follow in Chris and his characters footsteps. Most of them young impressionable girls who are now ripe for TREFS to indoctrinate because they use the same bullying tactics and excuses for authoritarianism.

Media does effect reality, but not in the way purists and antis would have you believe. No one is going to become a violent manic from playing a video game nor a sex offender because they read a smut fic. But they very much will conform to toxic beliefs if it’s repeated enough at them by authorities they ‘trust’; like say the world wide leading company known for family entertainment and children’s media, and the ‘friends’ they find within the fandom for said company...

I’m not saying you can’t enjoy Tangled the series or that you’re some how wrong for liking it’s characters, nor do you have to engage with every or any criticism thrown it’s way. But yes you need to think about the media you consume on some level and valid criticism is very much important to the fandom experience for precisely the above reasons.

Conclusion

This isn’t even the tip of the iceberg of what’s wrong with this show, but it is most of its biggest problems laid bare. Anything that haven’t covered here or in the past recaps will be explored in the final recap. Cause this is it folks; the last leg of the journey for this retrospective. When come back, hopefully next week, we’ll tackle Pascal’s Dragon.

#tangled #anti-tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta

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dragonseattofu · 3 years

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NekuShiki question time! #2 :)

Who said "I love you" first? When?

Do they ever go dancing? How does it go?

Who is more affectionate with the other?

First I love you

The person who I envision to say the first “I love you” in the post-NEO world would be Neku. Pre-NEO I would hands down have thought it would be Shiki, because out of the two I feel like Neku’s more of an awkward sort and wouldn’t know how to put romantic feelings into words. But after NEO I feel like Neku became a little better at conveying his feelings and here’s why:

He watched her exit the elevator. She was talking to someone holding a camera bag, possibly the photographer she had just hired a couple of days ago. He remembered their evening meal yesterday, one he had to pry her away from her work to partake in, relating to her upcoming photoshoot. He learned their usual photographer had double booked and she had to scramble to find a replacement. The replacement looked young, around their age, and seemed to be bowing a goodbye to her before walking towards the exit behind him.

Neku continued to watch her, as she pulled out her phone from her Mr. Mew purse. Shiki tapped furiously at the screen, with speed rivaling Nagi, and seconds later he felt a buzz in his pocket.

After tucking her phone back away, Shiki moved toward the turnstiles situated near the door and finally saw him. It took her a second to overcome the surprise, he didn’t tell her that he was coming to pick her up, but she immediately brightened as she walked toward him at a steadfast pace.

How many days, months, years had he waited and hoped for to see a sight like this? To feel like this? Like his chest tightening in anticipation of her being in his arms, his cheeks warming at her smiling at him for simply … existing? How long had he spent thinking about the life he could have had with his friends, with her?

When Neku was dropped into the Shinjuku UG, he went into shock. Why? Why was he back when he was banned from ever playing the game again? He had just gotten his life back. He finally didn’t feel so alone in the vast seas of Shibuya.

But then he got shot … again.

His cynical side thought, maybe this was his retribution. He didn’t deserve friends, not after what he did to him…

But then he remembered them, and what they had all said to him.

“Let me in! Tell me what you're thinking!”

“Give up on yourself, and you give up on the world.”

“You're not my partner anymore man, you're... my friend. So trus' that yo!”

Come on, work with us. A problem shared is a problem halved!

And then he could have sworn he heard her…

“You finally came back to us … I knew you would.”

“I’m so happy you're back, Neku.”

He didn’t remember her saying that to him, but it wasn’t the first time he felt like he saw things that haven’t happened yet, things that could happen if he played his cards right. Visions of a future that gave him some … hope.

Every battle he fought, every new area he stumbled into, every floating thought he passed, all led to this hope that he would get back to his friends.

When he wasn’t fighting to survive, or when Coco was standing watch so he could rest, he thought about them. Was Beat skipping classes still? Was Rhyme learning how to do those ollies Beat was trying to teach her. Was Shiki … was Shiki hanging out with Eri right now? Was she fixing a stitch on Mr. Mew? Did she miss him, the same way he missed her?

His time in the RG after playing three weeks in the reapers game was short, but nothing less than wonderful. Shiki and Neku went on a couple outings together, just the two of them when the Bito siblings had family errands. It started out a little awkward, especially when familiar restaurant and store keepers thought they were an item already. A specific ramen owner was the worst of them all even though his teasing came from a place of fondness for the pair.

Without him realizing, being with Shiki was almost as natural as breathing, and every moment he spent with her was fun, interesting, precious to him.

Neku didn’t get the time he needed to work out how important Shiki was to him before being plunged into the Shinjuku UG, but three years of company to only the disembodied thoughts of lost souls and an occasional “fairy” reaper gave him the opportunity to delve into it. The conclusion he reached gave him the motivation to keep fighting, to keep surviving. For once, he had someone worth living for.

“Earth to Neku?” Shiki waved her hands in front of his face.

He blinked, bringing himself back to the present. Shiki stood on her toes, trying to look at his face underneath his overgrown bangs. He felt her touch his cheek, concern marring her adorable face.

He hates that he brought so much strain to her life. Maybe she could have been happier with someone else, someone who wouldn’t break their promise to go shopping the next day and abruptly disappear.

But then she smiled at him, having noticed that he simply zoned out. And all of a sudden his negativity stopped spiralling and he felt grounded again. He may not feel like he deserved her, but she chose him nonetheless.

She chose to never give up on him, that he would survive the ordeal he was thrust into. She chose to be the best version of herself that she could be while she waited for him.

And then even after all that time had passed, she still chose to be with him.

Neku didn’t know if there was a word that encompassed the overwhelming emotion he felt whenever he thought of Shiki. One certainly felt close enough though.

“Hey Shiki?” He asked, putting his larger hand over her smaller one that lingered on his cheek.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he said that to anyone, if he did at all. Even though Neku had told Shiki almost immediately after his arrival in the RG that he wanted to be more than friends, he hadn’t used that word before. Love was still such a foreign concept that he wasn’t sure he understood it completely, but if there was anyone in the whole world he could associate love with, it would be Shiki.

Shiki’s hand on his face stiffened at the sudden confession. For a hot second, maybe it wasn’t the time or place she expected him to say it. He felt a slight panic from the doubt of her not reciprocating his feelings.

But those thoughts were quickly thrown out when she leaned in and kissed him.

It was a kiss longer than they had ever shared before. She was physically telling him something, but he was a little preoccupied to fully process anything. Shiki pulled away, far quicker than Neku would have liked, carrying the sweetest grin he ever saw on her.

“I love you too, Neku.”

Dancing

Shiki would have this fancy company dinner that she’d have to go to for networking. As friendly as Shiki is, she’s still introverted and the whole event just sounds utterly exhausting. Neku would be her plus one, because even if that’s the last place he would rather be, he’s her partner, and that’s that. She gets well enough along with everyone, but she has to make the rounds and greet everybody, leaving Neku alone at times. Thankfully Eri’s also there, and the girls take turns between networking and keeping Neku company. He surprises both of them when the head designer for Jupes notices Neku’s deep purple button down shirt from Jupes under a Gatto Nero’s half grey plaid - half black solid blazer (it’s visually better in my head than what I just described), and wants to talk to the designer of the jacket. Neku goes full endorsing mode for his girlfriend, and smiles smug when the girls realize they didn’t need to worry about him, much less securing a major deal with a major brand for a collaboration. He’s pretty happy with himself when he hears a version of Someday play on the surround sound. The dance floor opens up, and a couple of people start a waltz.

Neku thinks to himself, it’s an odd thing to have a dance in the middle of a company dinner, but dinners in the fashion industry are often hosted by the most eccentric of people, and he supposes it’s not so peculiar after all.

The melody plays soft and slow, and if he’s honest with himself, it’s a pretty good rendition of one of his favorite songs. He sees Shiki from the corner of his eye, silently asking her to dance as he extends his hand out. She’s surprised at the gesture. Neku’s many things, but dancer’s not one of them. The exaggerated kicks he’s so fond of are sort of hard to move elegantly in. A simple slow dance, he thinks, is enough for him to handle. Her thin finger slipped effortlessly into his hand.

More affectionate

Post-NEO, I feel that both are pretty affectionate toward one another, but in different ways. Shiki’s more physically affectionate, she’s more of a hugger and is always holding his hand, or his clothes, just so she can feel that he’s there. He doesn’t initiate physical touch as often as she does, but he never let’s go, or moves away from it. This happens more naturally as they start dating, snuggles and such.

Neku’s more affectionate verbally. He’s gotten comfortable saying what’s on his mind more often. He’s not shy about complimenting her, she doesn’t need his reassurances but his opinion is important to her nonetheless. He’s a natural flirt; says things that would be considered suave without intention. He would say pick up lines without realizing that they were pick up lines.

Okay, so I’m like not really sure how best to put my thoughts together but here goes:

The Shibuya and Twister kiddos would all be at some fashion function, and the Fret and Beat would comment on how attractive some of the models are. Neku would just be like, “yeah, they are attractive, but they aren’t as beautiful as Shiki.” Him referring to how much he loves her appearance as well as her personality, whereas he knows nothing about these girls so all he is going on is their looks.

And of course Shiki, who has pins in her mouth and is trying to get her models ready, hears this. Her jaw loosens and the pins fall on the floor. She’s essentially flushed and flabbergasted, by what he said and how nonchalant he said it. He looks at her like he said nothing wrong. Then he just smiles at her, and she just stutters out curse words. She doesn’t have time for this.

Notes: I’m so sorry for the late reply. I’m such a slow thinker and writer! But thanks again for the ask! The first prompt sort of snowballed. Hope you like it! @doesitringabell, I added a collection on Ao3 dedicated to you for any/all other prompts that end up longer than I had anticipated. Check out the source content.

Also sorry for any typos and such, let me know if you spot any. If anyone is still interested in my rambling mess of Neshiki fanfics/ficlets, don’t hesitate to send me more asks! It might take a while, but just know that my moments of silence are just me tinkering with ideas (writing something, hating it, revising it, writing again, rinse, repeat, then screw this, just take it.)

#TWEWY #Neshiki #NekuShiki #the world ends with you #NekuShiki question time #ntwewy #neo twewy #twewy neo #the world end with you neo #neku sakuraba #shiki misaki #daisukenojo bito #rhyme bito #eri #coco atarashi #my post #mypost #myfanfiction #myfanfic

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grimmradiance · 3 years

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Sunlight/White Light: Thoughts on the "TPK is artificial light" theory

Hey, you know that theory that's floating around that the Pale King represents artificial light? (if someone has that thread please link me I've lost it) Of course, I love it on the immediate merits of artificial/natural symbolism, but it scans even better if you know about the physical properties of light and neuroscience. Let me geek out about how light changes the way your body works, and how this most definitely helps TPK seize control over the Radiance:

[Image descriptions: two screenshots from Hollow Knight. The first is of the Radiance in her Dream; her glow, and the world around her, are largely tinted in orange and gold. The second is of the closing cutscene of the Path of Pain, showcasing the Pale King and the light of his palace, which is pure white. End descriptions.]

The fact that the Radiance is yellow-orange is most definitely not a coincidence. The sun itself emits frequencies of light from infrared to ultraviolet, which means it also emits every frequency of visible light, from the reds to the violets. Not in equal measures, though! The sun's electromagnetic output looks something like this:

[Image description: a graph charting the sun's output in terms of Solar Irradiance against Wavelength. It indicates that the sun outputs a variety of wavelengths, with the largest amount in the "green" medium-length wavelengths of visible light. End description.]

You might look at this and wonder--if sunlight is more green than anything else, why do people say the sun is yellow? To make a long scientific story short, shorter wavelengths of light scatter in the atmosphere, which is both why the sky looks blue during the day and why the sun tends to look yellower than the light it actually puts out.

Artificial lights, on the other hand, often have a narrow band of wavelengths they put out:

[Image description: another chart of light output. The sun spectrum from before is plotted on a yellow line. Alongside it is a standard filament lightbulb (a red line), which has similar proportions of light but shifted more towards red. There's also a line for a fluorescent lightbulb in green and an LED in blue--both have several "peaks" in both reds and blue-greens, and have almost no infrared or ultraviolet light. End description.]

Note the blue and green lines--blue represents an LED, and green is a fluorescent light. Instead of an even curve of wavelengths, they have certain targeted frequencies that are far more common (which is why you might look washed-out under a fluorescent light--way less red!)

What does this have to do with the higher beings? The kind of light you're exposed to actually affects the way your body and mind function! There's a lot of ways this happens, but today I'm focusing on the action of the pigment melanopsin. In humans, it's found in ipRGC cells of the eye, which are clustered alongside rods and cones. Eye receptors (rods, cones, and ipRGCs) all contain pigments that break down when exposed to light; when they break down, that nerve cell fires. However, they each react differently to different kinds of light--cones have three kinds of pigments that respond to short, medium, and long (blue, green, and red) light wavelengths, rods take far less light to respond than cones (so they work in dim light), and ipRGCs and melanopsin react to long/blue light. What this means is that cells with melanopsin are far more sensitive in response to blue light, compared to other colors.

In humans, melanopsin triggers the suprachiasmic nucleus of the hypothalamus (just above the place where your optic nerves cross in your brain, in your midbrain where sensory information is relayed throughout the nervous system). This nucleus is absolutely vital in keeping the body on a schedule--your circadian rhythm, which coordinates hormones, organs, and cognitive processes around a 24-hour schedule. By itself, the suprachiasmic nucleus can keep a rhythm without any outside input, but information from sources like melanopsin-containing neurons helps to adjust this rhythm to things like changing seasons and social input.

Have you ever heard "don't use your phone at night?" This is why. Light that's especially bright or especially blue, like what you see in the sky during the day, or artificial lights, suggests to the suprachiasmic nucleus that it's currently daytime. Red-shifted, dimmer light suggests nighttime. Ergo, this is another example of "things that worked fine until technology started going really fast."

What does this mean for Hallownest? Well, one of two things. Depending on where in Hallownest you are, either the brightest light you'll ever see is the Pale King, white light extraordinaire, or you're surrounded by it, like in the palace. So either you have, on a neurochemical level, a king who lights you up when he comes around, or you're literally bathing in it non-stop.

So what does this look like? Sudden exposure to bright white light looks like the body's rhythm being thrown off, causing cognitive difficulties and fatigue. Constant exposure to white lights outside of expected times brings with it depression and the risks of allostatic load--the body kicks off the day with a burst of cortisol, to get the energy to get going; constant activation of cortisol taxes the body and contributes to chronic disease.

But most of all, artificial white lights encourage you not to sleep.

#i took a sensation and perception class and EXCLUSIVELY use it to make fantheories #the higher being speaks #hollow knight #the radiance #the pale king #hollow knight spoilers #'op are you writing this at night on your phone' yes but i have a sleep phase issue and adhd so I'm screwed anyways #also yes i know melanopsin works different in bugs. but these bugs can talk so they have human neuroanatomy to me #also i forgot how to do readmores on mobile sorry for anyone who had to scroll past this

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Never Satisfied [Chapter 6]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“I don’t wanna look like this, fuck”

Previously on Never Satisfied:

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time.

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

* * *

Corpse sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s been trying to step up a little with the dressing game since he’ll be having a special guest over - ok, truth be told, he didn’t invite her, she invited herself but he’s glad she did. Lord knows he wants her company and wants her around but he could never bring himself to invite her over or initiate a hangout. Good thing Cora doesn’t expect anything from him, not of that nature at least. It’s oddly amazing having a person like her - someone who basically reads his mind like an open book and then takes action according to what she’s read. It’s not only the fact that she accurately gauges all his wants and needs, but also how she knows exactly what to do to satisfy them. To calm him down, to relieve his anxiety, to make him feel comfortable. He feels strangely selfish for always being on the receiving end of this friendship, although he doesn’t see much he could do for her. He’s decided to let time have full control of the course of their relationship, hoping his giver time would come soon.

As of now, however, it still hasn’t and he can stomach that.

It’s been about a week and a half since their first hangout but he hasn’t missed her once. That may be due to how much they’ve been texting ever since he unlocked that checkpoint she offered him. To be more specific, it probably has something to do with the fact that her texts are always so full of life and light, sounding almost like she’s there with him, talking in her signature upbeat and bubbly way which is such a contrast to his own melancholic approach to any conversation ever.

She’s also sent him a ton of memes and selfies, plus pictures she took of clients’ pets. In return for her kindness, he’s sent her bad jokes, weird internet articles about ghosts and pictures of the current game he was playing. Needless to say, their chats have been very colorful.

Now that the scene has been set up a little better, a direct timeline of events lading up to this one would be appreciated, wouldn’t it? Ok so, it all started with an “I’m bored” text Corpse received from Cora about two hours ago. Instinctively, and partially because he didn’t have any idea what else he could possibly say in response to that he sent back an apology. An apology Cora apparently deemed a loophole she could use to invite herself over cause that’s exactly what she did, not that Corpse minds it much. In fact, he felt his heartbeat quicken with excitement when her “K then, I’ll be there in a bit :)” text came in. At first he thought it was his anxiety kicking in but when he realized the rest of his typical symptoms remained absent it took him a little while to pinpoint what that emotion could be.

The epiphany came in the form of the word ‘excitement’.

Regardless of the newfound feeling, or maybe exactly because of it, he attempted to protest. A protest she killed easily with a threatening “I know where you live” text which sent Corpse scrambling to get the apartment in some kind of order. Himself too, it’s safe to say he wasn’t looking the most presentable when he received that message.

His cleaning session consisted mostly of him shoving the strewn about items in his closet and closing it shut like a wild beast dwelled inside, placing a chair in front of the door as a sign for her not to open it and also as a way of preventing the thing from opening on its own because of how overflowing it was.

Afterwards he scrambled into the shower to scrub himself down. It’d been too much for him to tackle given he wasn’t doing too well mentally, but considering he was now suddenly expecting company he thought it’d be for the best not to subject his new friend to the three-day-unshowered Corpse stank.

Right now, his main focus is his face, his stomach sinking at the sight of himself in the mirror’s reflection.

How does she even want to see me?

His mirror is cracked along the right side, spider web-like cracks reaching towards the center of it from the impact point serving as a reminder of a particularly bad night he’d rather forget.

He sighs as he combs his hair, knowing the dark curls won’t oblige and behave no matter how much he tries. He touches his jaw, deciding to let himself off the hook by deeming that a shave wouldn’t be necessary for at least another day. And then his eyes land on his clothes - an outfit it didn’t take him long to put together since those are the only articles of clothing in his closet he’d consider presentable enough to be shown off in front of a new friend who is yet to find out how much of a slob he really is. That clothing choice consists of a black button-up shirt and jeans.

This is nice, right? It’s fine. It’s business casual but definitely leaning more towards casual, as some would say. I look...nice, decent. I’ll take it - it’s enough. Far better than my ‘usual’.

A knock at the door startles him, though it’s quickly followed by a voice he’s grown to find very endearing:

“THIS IS THE COPPAS! OPEN UP YA’ DOOR!” The voice yells out, probably loud enough for the whole complex to hear but it’s not like he gives a shit. And, as context clues show, neither does she.

Corpse exits his bathroom, heading for the front door, pulling the chain off and unlocking the deadbolt before opening it. The object of his newfound affection stands on the other side, grinning and beaming with that usual light she has surrounding her. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun - a hairstyle she seems to love - and she’s wearing a simple red t-shirt covered in little chubby, cartoonish black cats that seem to be struggling to exist.

He smiles a little, finding it in himself to speak up but when he opens his mouth to do so, she cuts him off.

“Jesus, did you just come back from a funeral?” She asks, pulling at one of the buttons on his chest as she walks past him, letting herself in.

His eyes, completely on their own accord, wander down as she walks on by, causing him to swallow hard as he finds himself staring at a pair of tanned legs, patterned by the fishnets she’s wearing, leading up to a pair of short black shorts.

She turns on her heel about halfway down the hall, leading him to take an inevitable notice of how her well-loved boots could use a polish. Anyhow, he snaps his gaze away to hide the fact he’s been gawking, despite not really meaning to.

“No, but for real, why are you wearing that? You seem super confined and uncomfy, bud.”

Corpse blinks before swallowing and glancing down at himself, pulling at the button she touched before looking back up, his gaze traveling up the length of her legs. She has suspenders hanging over her thighs, more of an accessory than a necessary addition to her outfit. “I just...I dunno, I thought it looked nice. Does it not? I mean, I wouldn’t know, really. I don’t usually dress like this.”

“I mean, you look dapper as fuck but if you’re not comfortable then change, get your comfy game on. I’m the last person you need to impress in this world.”

God, she sees right through him. Even so, he considers protesting, trying to convince it’s all fine, that he likes this shirt and the outfit in its entirety. But her stare sets the record straight for him - she’ll know it’s all lies. And with that in mind, he lets his shoulders fall. Not a full second passes before he promptly starts undoing his buttons.

“Oh, thank fuck.” She comments as he goes to retreat into his room, stripping the shirt off as he walks, unaware of her lingering eyes on his back, unaware of her lower lip bitten between her pearly teeth. Unaware of the subtle shift in her stance as she looks him over much like he did her moments earlier.

When he returns a moment later in a simple dark grey t-shirt, she greets him with a grin and pats his chest. “Much better.”

It doesn’t take long for them to decide to crash on his couch, throw on a bad movie and just sit in comfortable silence. Comfortable silence - something that usually eats away at him and is anything but comfortable he now sees as calming, a soothe to his ever-racing mind.

Disrespecting the movie, Corpse takes to analyzing his guest instead. She has so much confidence, he can’t help but notice, like she’s been here hundreds of times, known him for so long. He hates her a little for it. Well, it’s not quite hate, it leans more toward envy. Jealousy. That human-nature characteristic of wanting what someone else has but you desperately need/wish you had. In his mind, she’s almost selfish: Why couldn’t she share some of that confidence and carefree manner with the rest of the world? It oozes out of her like a drip of honey from a beehive, sweet and warm. And all he wants yet has none of.

He instinctively tenses up as he feels her move closer before, suddenly, her head drops into his lap, legs kicked over the armrest of the couch. He holds his breath almost subconsciously, staring at her as she remains focused on the television. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he puts one across the back of the couch and the other awkwardly bent above his head. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea if he touches her. He doesn’t want to come off as a creep nor does he want to overstep any of her boundaries, despite the fact she’s walking a dangerous line of overstepping his. Well, that would’ve been the case if this was done by anyone but her. The way Corpse comes to this realization is when he figures out that he really doesn’t mind this proximity, as long as he doesn’t embarrass himself or creep her out in any way.

What felt like an eternity passes before she finally speaks up, still without looking away from the movie playing on the screen opposite the couch, “You know, I can feel how tense you are.”

His face flushes with embarrassment, heating up as his mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome of this situation.

She’ll probably sit up, or leave, he thinks to himself, heart thumping in his ears as he tries to observe her face the best he can from this angle. Nevertheless, he swallows that fear as she rolls her head to look up at him with those large glittering doe eyes, grinning a bit as she seems to always do, “You can just put your hands wherever it’s comfortable for you. I don’t mind.”

He hesitates for a moment but, as always, he doesn’t get much say cause she makes the choice for him, knowing that pesky fear is keeping him immobile. She takes the hand from over his head and pulls it down to rest just next to her skull. She then drags the one resting at the back of the couch, placing it so his hand is resting dead-center on her stomach. Satisfied with how she’s rearranged his posture, she goes back to watching the movie but not before asking: “This okay?” while looking at him through her peripheral vision.

He’d have to admit it’s far more comfortable like this.

“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay?” He asks, feeling relieved when he feels her nod against his leg.

He moves his hand a little and swallows hard as he contemplates if he really should make the move he’s thinking of at the moment. And then he abruptly decides not to think. So, instead, he acts on it.

Without thinking of any potential negative consequences, Corpse slides his fingers to lace with hers, resting their conjoined hands on her stomach in the same spot where she left his hand a bit ago. She curls her digits around his tighter as reassurance that it’s ok. Her palm feels warm in his hand, her thumb tracing his cold metal rings.

Checkpoint...his checkpoint.

Is this what it feels like to be normal?, he wonders, Is this what it feels like to really connect with someone? He has never felt this before. He’s never met someone who has such an effect on him, understand him like this - Without even having to ask she grounded him; she knew what he needed and didn’t make him feel like an idiot about it. Instead she gave him the comfort he needed.

And suddenly he finds himself afraid - realizing that this isn’t simply a vibe of two buddies hanging out. He has that subtle ache in his chest that’s telling him he wants something…something substantial from this friendship. He wants this to last, or for it to blossom, he’s not sure yet. But for the first time, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to figure it out. That’s one of the many effects this girl has on him - she’s the definition of improvisation, unpredictable and alive. He’s slowly learning to let loose himself, all thanks to her. Slowly, he’s learning to trust time.

He abruptly realizes he’s glancing at her often as the movie is still running, examining her features and slowly running his gaze down the length of her fishnet-clad thighs before quickly looking away, mentally scolding himself. It’s hard, but he manages to turn his gaze elsewhere for his sake and hers. For the sake of keeping things normal, platonic and not in any way awkward for either of them. The last thing he needs is to make things weird by letting his mind wander and activate his libido and then she’d really notice how tense he is.

Cora remains oblivious to what’s going on in his head, thank God, as she continues running her thumb across his knuckles, eyes half lidded in calm content - something that’d typically seem like the complete opposite of what she is. He likes seeing her like this, tamed almost. He feels like no one else has had the privilege to see this calm side of her. Maybe that’s not the truth - it probably isn’t - but he still feels special, knowing that it’s a tight circle of people who have seen her this way.

And then he realizes the movements of her thumb on his hand have stopped.

He freezes for a moment, his fearful gaze travelling to her face where he’s relieved to find her eyes closed only seconds before he hears a light snore escape her.

She’s fallen asleep.

It’s an odd scene. She’s such a wild and free spirit, seeing her fall asleep like this is like observing an abnormality, a paranormal event. You know, like something one doesn’t usually believe exists or is capable of happening. He’d never before been able to imagine her asleep. It’s ridiculous, he’s aware - she’s human after all, but his mind has never been able to comprehend the thought and image of her captured by the power of sleep. He simply couldn’t see it happening. But now that it’s happened in front of him, he can’t look away from the sight of her relaxed, peaceful features, overcome by sudden slumber.

And then he comes to the realization that he’s now practically held hostage on his own couch, crippled by the danger of waking her up. It’s gonna be a long while, isn’t it, he thinks to himself, yet there’s still a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that’s a result of knowing he’s held hostage by her. That’s more a blessing than a curse, if he’s being honest.

@fockingwhore @vixenl @annshit @wineandionysus @wiseflamingoqueen

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Relax

Pairing: Han Jumin/Main Character

Bio: You just need a moment... a second to breathe as the world passes you by. Jumin sees you and he gives you a chance to slow down and find yourself again.

For the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang Project. @mysme-rbb

[Read on AO3]

[Check out my Partner’s half here.]

The party felt like it was… alive.

There was just so much to do and so much to take care of that it was hard for you to function. You knew what was expected of you as the party coordinator but at the same time, this was out of your realm of comfort. You weren’t the kind of person who tended to go out of their way to be chatty.

You were just…

You.

Not that, that was a bad thing. It was just that you weren’t as outgoing and bubbly as someone like Rika had been. She seemed to be the center of attention no matter what and you had always been more of a wallflower if anything. You didn’t go out of your way for people unless you had the feeling that they needed help.

The need to help others overwhelmingly made you do things for others beyond your limitations. It meant that you ran yourself ragged without meaning to and by the time that you knew that you were overloaded, it was already too late. Your skin would crawl and you would feel sick to your stomach for quite a while.

It was the same old song and dance every day of your life when you were thrown into something you weren’t sure you were prepared for. This party, for example, you barely had any time to be able to get the wind of what you were meant to do and somehow it came together.

It didn’t seem like you made any mistakes.

But, you were physically far too aware of every detail that you’d made and nobody else had touched. You had just made your rounds over the party to check on everyone, mingling with the guests and trying to keep a smile on your face the entire time. It wasn’t easy, but you were doing the best that you could.

What you didn’t realize was that it was increasingly obvious to the one person that had been around you the most lately that noticed that something was wrong. The dread that coiled in your gut was far too strong to ignore but you were trying to hide it, trying to make sure that this party turned out the way that it was supposed to.

Breathing in deeply, you tried to disregard that cracking noise that came underneath it. It was always there whenever your anxiety flared and sometimes, it would be a warning that would be okay, and other times it was a warning that you needed to get away from everything. All of the lights and all of the sounds were just too much.

Your skin crawled and hissed at you to step away as the overstimulation of your senses grew stronger and stronger. It was one of those feelings where you could be perfectly fine to those around you who didn’t know any better, but on the inside, you were trembling and shaking like a leaf in the breeze.

You felt pathetic and still overwhelmed by something as small as a party when you knew how to handle it. You knew how to control these feelings and ground yourself, but it was just so hard to think clearly with the thumping of the music and the chattering voices in the back of the room.

That’s why it surprised you when you felt a hand grasp at your wrist. You lifted your head to meet dark eyes and a gentle look. Jumin had appeared to you seemingly out of nowhere and nudged you in the direction of outside. You weren’t in any condition to decline his offer but anything to get you away from the buzzing sound was fine by you.

Jumin led you out onto the balcony that overlooked the city, the sounds of the party now simply a distant hum against the sounds of the evening breeze and the occasional sound of cars driving by the building. The party was in a secluded and quiet little area of town so there weren’t a lot of people clattering about outside.

You had never been this high up before nor had you had a view of the city like this. You let the buzzing feeling in the back of your mind rest where it was as you tried to find a distraction. You took a step forward and leaning over the edge to peer down at the world below. As quiet as it was, you could see things you never saw before.

Not just glimmering lights, not just people living their lives, but feeling like nobody else could exist at this moment apart from the two of you. It was peaceful. It was what you wanted. It was a moment to breathe and find yourself when it felt like the rest of the world was collapsing around you so quickly.

“I imagine it’s overwhelming to be in charge of something like this for the first time,” he said, leaning against the ledge next to you. “Are you doing alright? You haven’t taken a moment to catch your breath since you arrived.”

“That’s very… astute, Jumin,” you said. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. It felt like that foreign feeling of wanting to cry was still there. You didn’t want to worry him for anything. “I expect no less from you, though. I’m… I’ll be okay. I just needed a minute to cool down.”

Jumin didn’t have to take a hint.

People were always joking and saying that he wasn’t emotionally mature and he didn’t know how to read into others, but he did. You knew that he did. For someone that everyone called a robot, he had always been checking in with you and making sure that you felt welcomed.

Sure, it had been strange how you felt, but Jumin didn’t treat you differently because of it. He was ready to talk and converse with you about just about anything. He had a range of interests that could’ve made your head spin with how easily he could shift a conversation and talk to a person about anything.

Even things that he may have just started learning about. Jumin was always learning, and in a way, you wanted to be more like that. You wanted to see what it was like to handle the room instead of running away from it when it got tough. It was something that you had been working on all your life but it wasn’t moving as fast as you wanted it to be.

“Take as much time as you need, then,” Jumin’s voice drew you away from your thoughts once again. “You’ve done the hard work of coordinating this event. You don’t have to handle this all on your own. That’s why we’re an organization.”

“Funny you say that,” you felt a laugh come to your lips as you thought about all that Jumin had been doing for the party. Not even for the party, for everyone that was in the RFA. He had been making sure that everyone was safe from not only the hacker but from outside threats that they couldn’t account for.

He was doing that without being prompted.

His compassion knew no bounds.

Jumin Han, if anyone, was the one that needed to know how much he was appreciated. He was even trying to help you right now instead of doing his tasks for the party. He was always the one that put his loved ones first and you could relate to that. It was just hard to imagine the sheer weight of it given the length Jumin went to.

It was above and beyond what you felt capable of yourself.

That was when you turned to look at him, “It seems like you’ve been taking care of everything yourself, too. I think if anyone needs a break, it’s you, Jumin.”

Jumin chuckled. He gave you that rare smile that made you feel like you were on cloud nine all over again. “How about we both take a break, then? I imagine they can handle things for a few minutes if we’re away.”

“I think that’s fair,” you smiled. Sliding your hand across the balcony, you bumped your palm against his and he looked down at where your fingers interlocked. It was a simple gesture but he returned it, holding your hand tightly within his own as if it was meant to be. “Thank you for saving me back there. I usually can handle it when it gets bad, but…”

“It’s your first party. You want things to run smoothly,” he replied as if he had pulled the answer right from your mind. “I understand. There are things that we can control and things that we can not control. Don’t worry too hard about it. Thanks to your delicate care, things are going to turn out wonderful.”

“Give yourself some credit, we wouldn’t have the party right now if now for how much you’ve been looking out for everyone.”

“I suppose we both have to be a bit less modest, wouldn’t you say?”

“Jumin Han, modest ?”

“Preposterous, right? I imagine Zen would have an interesting response to that.”

“Hahaha… Jumin, you always know how to make me feel safe again.”

You watched as Jumin stared back at the city lights and the skyline. He was lost in his thoughts but you were lost in him. If nothing else, you knew that you always had a safe place with Jumin and there would be nothing that could ever take that away from you. It was just what felt right to you and all you wanted to be.

With Jumin, you would have a peaceful place to hide away from the world, and you knew from the way he held your hand, that he felt the same way about you. Smiling, you looked back into the party hall and then back to Jumin as the faint music began to play once again. You figured it was a good time as any to have a dance.

And, the first man you wanted to share that with happened to be right there with you.

You looked at him and watched as his deep eyes returned to you, “If I could be so bold, could I have a dance with you, Jumin?”

Jumin held your hand so tenderly and nodded. Thus began a dance shared between the two of you that stayed so sweet underneath those stars. “Of course, you can. I was going to ask you myself but it appears you’ve beaten me to the punch. I admire that. You keep surprising me, and I can’t wait to see what else you can do.”

And so, you swayed against him and felt that feeling of peace wash over you. During a busy night with everyone on their toes, you would enjoy this moment of serenity with Jumin as you intended. Even if the world was tumbling around you, there would always be Jumin to fall back on when you needed support.

No matter what.

#mysmerbb #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #jumin han #han jumin #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #jumin mm #jumin mystic messenger #jumin mysme #mysme jumin #mm jumin #mystic messenger jumin #mod kait #long post

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krreader · 4 years

Text

tears of gold | the aftermath.

pairing: min yoongi x reader fandom: bts warnings: anxiety ; depression genre: angst ; fluff word count: 3.3k+ previous: x

summary: if yoongi had a super power, it would be to turn back time and undo his past mistakes.

a/n: tumblr, you better not do me dirty again, let ME POST THIS NOW.

This started out as a very normal day on tour.

Yoongi got woken up by his alarm at 6 in the morning, turning it off with a heavy sigh before lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling through the darkness of the room. As always, his first thoughts were about his daughter, hoping that she was doing okay, that she was healthy and happy. Then his thoughts drifted to you, hoping that you were better off now that you were away from him.

It's been two years since Hoseok had told him that he had spotted you out on the streets with his child and back then, he had done everything he could to track you down, only to find out from one of your old friends that you had decided to move out of the country.

And he didn't know where to.

Two years of the never ending wondering where you were, sadness about the what-could-have-been, disappointment in himself, all the while pretending he was still the same bubbly Suga that fans loved so much.

One of those days, he wouldn't be able to put on the facade anymore.

Finally, he slipped out of bed and under the shower, getting ready within ten minutes, before joining the others for breakfast.

He got himself a plate, sat down and continued his morning like he always did, his thoughts slowly managing to focus on the performance today.

Until Namjoon said something that made him freeze, a cold shiver running down his spine, because he hadn’t expected to hear that name being said out loud ever again.

“What the hell?” he turned the flyer in his hand around, his eyes widening, before reading what was on it: “Join (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for the reading of her bestseller that captivated the hearts of millions.”

It got very quiet for a moment, everyone that was sitting at the table stopped eating and now stared at Namjoon, but he stared at Yoongi.

“I thought (Y/N) was in management?”

“The (Y/N)? Yoongi hyung's ex girlfriend?”

“She's an author now?”

“She moved here?”

Question after question was being thrown around a moment later, but Yoongi couldn't do anything other than stare at your smiling face printed on the flyer.

You looked so happy, your eyes literally sparkling and your posture screaming nothing but confidence.

Had it really only been three years? Because looking at you on that flyer now made it seem like it’s been over twenty..

Hoseok was the first to clear his throat, knowing more than the others did, “Doesn't really matter, right? They broke up, I don't think that it's any of our business.”

Even if they were all curious, a look at Yoongi, whose head was hanging so low that nobody could see his face through his long strands of hair, was enough for them all to return to eating quietly.

No matter how long it's been, he was clearly still struggling, they all knew that. They had tried to help, had done everything in their power, but at one point, there was nothing left to do for them. None of them could truly help.

Nevertheless, Namjoon left the flyer on the table as he and the others got up to go back to their rooms to get their things before they had to leave for the venue and Yoongi couldn't help but to reach for it and stare at it for a long time, his fingertips running over your printed face.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered to himself.

And once again, he got reminded of just how much he missed you. Your face, your touch, your lips against his. Everything about you, he missed, yearned for.

So even though it was a bad idea for both parties and his mental health, he made the decision to go there, hoping that he’d get to see a glimpse of his daughter from afar.

The room filled up within the first ten minutes until there was absolutely no seat left.

You truly hadn't expected so many to turn up, but looking at the crowd of so many clutching your book to their chests with a happy and excited smile on their face made you once again realize of just how good of an idea it had been to write down your struggles and thoughts, knowing that so many could relate and connect with you like that.

“Are you ready?” your agent placed her hand on your lower back, “They're all waiting for you.”

“I'm nervous,” you admitted.

“That's normal. But you'll do great. Just read the passages that we've talked about, don't think too much about it.”

And while you and your agent discussed some final things before you’d go on stage, Yoongi managed to sneak in and stand at the very back, his eyes immediately scanning the room in hopes of seeing a little girl, but there was none.

Just.. fans.

You had fans now.

A part of him was so proud of you, of what you had achieved after everything that he had put you through. But that other part hated him for that exact reason.

“Please welcome (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Your name made him snap out of his thoughts, his breath getting stuck in his throat when you stepped out on that stage and he swore that for a moment, the world stopped spinning. He couldn't hear the claps and screams anymore, it was as if everything blurred except for you on that stage, smiling so happily and carefree, even if you seemed a little nervous.

You looked gorgeous.

Your hair had grown a little, but it suited you so well. You wore a blue dress, one of his favorite colors on you, with black heels that he loved so much. And like when he saw you on that flyer, all the feelings for you that had never vanished came crashing back down and all he could think about was: ‘I love you so much.. even after all this time.’

“Uh, thank you all for coming here, I really didn't expect so many of you to show up,” you chuckled nervously and sat down, grabbing your book from the floor, “If you read my book – which I assume you did, since you showed up here today – then you know how much it means to me. Sharing it with the world and reaching so many of you that have been or are in the same boat as I used to be in... if I was able to help even one of you with it, then I've achieved everything I wanted.”

Another round of claps echoed through the room, Yoongi's eyebrows furrowing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Maybe he should have read up on what the book was about.

Probably would have been a good idea.

Because he really wasn't prepared for what he heard once you started reading.

“I used to think that my live was perfect. Perfect job, perfect friends, perfect family, perfect partner. There was not a single thing in my life that I had wanted to change at the time. I was living in a bubble with nothing but happiness and bliss. A bubble that I wasn't prepared to burst.. ever. But that's what happened when the pregnancy test showed two lines. That day, time stopped for a very long time. I truly thought that my life was over when these two lines appeared. It's not that I wasn't well off financially, or that I had parents who would disapprove. It's just that I wasn't ready to be a mother yet. The thought of taking care of something so precious and raising them to be the best possible version of themselves, that was something that scared the living shit out of me. It paralyzed me to the point where when I walked out of the bathroom that day, I was just the shell of my former happy self. I knew I had to tell my partner right away, was expecting him to put his arm around my shoulder and tell me that everything would be alright. That he'd be with me and that we'd raise this child together, that no matter what, I wouldn't be alone in this,” you stopped for a moment to gulp down hard, then you looked up at the crowd with tears in your eyes, “But I was.”

The more you read, the weaker Yoongi's legs became.

This was about him.

“I gave him an ultimatum that one day. That if he didn't want the child now that he'd never get another chance at being a father again. Even if I wasn't ready for the baby, I never would have abandoned it. But he did. He abandoned her before she was even born. He walked out that day and I was completely alone.”

When the world started spinning around Yoongi, he took a step back until he hit the cold window, trying to regain control over his body and emotions.

“The following weeks were the worst of my life. I didn't feel alive anymore, despite the life inside of me growing. I didn't feel anything, gave up on crying eventually, stopped eating and just didn't function properly anymore. Anxiety and depression consumed me, I was feeling worthless and unloved and nothing could fix it. No matter what I did, no matter who tried to help me. That continued on until I went for my first ultrasound appointment,” despite the tear that rolled out of your eye, you smiled, “I've never heard anything more beautiful than that sound. The heartbeat of my child. Beating so strong and loudly, despite me taking so little care of myself. I sobbed my eyes out that day, kept apologizing to the screen, to my baby and made a promise that day to take better care of myself to take care of the baby. The baby, that was so strong, even when I couldn't be. But I wanted to be. I wanted to be strong for her and so I made a decision that day. I became the mother that I wanted my child to have. A strong one. I changed my number and I moved, I started a new life, far away from the man that promised me the world but threw me away the moment that his idea of the future got destroyed. I was done crying over someone that treated me like trash, that treated my child – our child – like trash. So I regained control over my life again, saw a therapist to talk about my issues and by the time that my daughter was born, I could hold her in my arms with the happiest of smiles and say: I love you and I'm so glad you're in this world. I’m so glad that I get to call you my daughter.”

At that point, Yoongi was silently crying, biting down so hard on his lip as to not make a sound and alert anyone of what was going on that it started to bleed.

“I raised my daughter on my own and I couldn't be prouder of who she is today. This beautiful bundle of pure joy and happiness that loves with all her heart. I did that. I didn't need her father and she didn't either. Him leaving us was so hard at first, but it made me so strong, it made our bond so strong. But I guess, if I could say one thing to him now..-”

Yoongi hadn’t expected you to spot him in that moment, but maybe you had seen him from the very beginning and had only waited until now to acknowledge him.

You weren’t surprised to see him here, you had heard that BTS was in town and since he had tried to contact you for so long after your break-up, you had assumed that he'd come by.

But you were still composed, were smiling at him, very softly, actually. Something that he hadn’t expected, “I forgive you.”

When you closed your book and signaled the crowd that the reading was over, everyone got up and clapped, but you still stared at Yoongi.

You meant what you said.

You were done being angry and disappointed. You had grown as a person and had decided that you'd rather spend your days surrounding yourself with things and people that made you happy, than hold a grudge over people from the past, that including Yoongi.

People started to line up after the reading was done for the signing of your books that came afterwards. Many of the ones that came told you just how much your book had helped them on their journeys, knowing that they weren't alone and that this feeling of hopelessness would go away once they realized they were so strong and just how much stronger they could be for their child.

It took a while, but eventually, the room started to clear, until there was only one more person, still standing at the same exact spot as before.

“Uh.. do you want me to..-?” your agent asked, but you shook your head.

“It’s alright. I will see at the office tomorrow.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded and walked away. Whoever this person was, the way you looked at him made her believe that you two had a lot to discuss.

You took a few deep breaths to prepare yourself for what was coming, then you got up and walked over to him, smiling as softly as before, “It's been a few years, hasn't it?”

“Three years, two months and one week,” he said without having to think twice about it. He remembered when he made the biggest mistake of his life.

He would forever remember that day.

You watched him for a moment, cocking your head to the side, before your smile dropped, “I wish I could say you look good, but.. you don’t, Yoongi.”

“You do,” Yoongi nodded, “You always did.”

You brushed over your dress, almost lovingly, before you said: “Thank you.”

Yoongi had so many questions and so many things to say and ask, but the most pressing thing was: “Is.. she here?”

“No. She's with my mother.”

His shoulders dropped in disappointment, “Ah.. I see.”

You knew that he regretted his decision, despite never having read his messages since you had blocked his number soon after the break-up and then having gotten another number altogether. But your friends had told you about how often he stopped by their places in hopes of you being there or them telling him about you and your daughter.

“I've worked very hard for the last years, Yoongi. To raise my child, but also to become the woman that I am today. I've grown. And I've.. been thinking a lot. What I said before, about me forgiving you. I mean that.”

“Why, though?” it’s not like he deserved it.

“Because even after everything that happened between us... you gave me the most beautiful gift I could have asked for. And if I had to go through all that pain again, just to hold her in my arms eventually, I would.”

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, pressing his eyes shut before more tears could escape them, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

“Don’t be,” you put your hand on his shoulder and waited for him to look at you, before you said: “I’m happy now, Yoongi. We both are. What’s done is done and there’s nothing we can do to change it.”

You didn’t say anything else after that, just gave him one last smile before disappearing.

At first he thought about running after you, but you had forgiven him and that is much more than he deserved. He couldn’t really ask for anything else, could he?

But someone else? Maybe.

Two days later, Yoongi was packing up his suitcase, ready to fly back to Seoul to return to his daily routine, when someone entered his hotel room.

“Hey hyung,” Namjoon smiled a little, “You got a second?”

“Almost ready,” Yoongi said in a small voice.

“Yeah, about that,” Namjoon opened up his suitcase again when Yoongi had closed it and pressed something into his hands, making sure he was holding whatever it was tightly, “Why don't you take a few more days off to relax? I think this city would do you some good.”

And with a wink, he left, Yoongi spotting Hoseok leaning against the doorframe, smiling encouragingly at Yoongi

He didn't know what he meant. It was only when he unfolded the piece of paper that his legs gave in and he had to sit down for a moment.

“Namjoon?” your eyes widened, a huge smile spreading on your lips as you embraced him without thinking twice, “What are you doing here? And Hoseok too? You guys!”

“Hoseok hyung told me.. well.. everything. We wanted to hear your story and wanted to apologize for everything. If we had known sooner, maybe we could have helped.”

“No, don't blame yourselves. Yoongi is his own person, he made that decision himself.”

“That.. is actually another thing that we wanted to talk to you about,” Hoseok sighed heavily, “We would never ask you to give him another chance, not after everything. But.. would it be too much to ask you to let him meet her? Just... once?”

That question caught you off-guard, Namjoon quickly adding: “You can say no if you're uncomfortable with it, of course!”

It was something that you had thought about a lot over the course of the last years. Would it be so bad if he met her? Just once? Or if you sent him a picture of her, at least? If not for his sake, then for hers? You were raising her on your own and you didn’t need a man to help you, but the older she got, the more questions she had about why she didn’t have a dad.

If he really had changed..-

You were quiet for a long time, before saying: “I promised myself I would never let him see her when he walked out that day. But the older I get and the older she gets, the more I think about it... if it really were so bad if he met her just once.. if maybe they could have a relationship, even when we couldn't.”

“It's your decision just how far you want this to go, we're just asking you for letting him meet her once.. just to see her face, so he doesn't have to imagine it anymore.”

With the piece of paper in which your address was scribbled on clutched tightly in his hand, Yoongi pressed the doorbell with a shaking hand, his breathing uneven and his legs wobbly.

He didn't know what to expect. Three hours ago, he hadn't expected any of this to happen, so now he wasn't able to wrap his mind around it that it was actually happening. That he would meet the girl that was on his mind constantly for the last three years.

Once again, he was face to face with you, the one he called the love of his life once.

And a moment later a little girl squeezed herself through your legs, looking at him with the same eyes that he found himself looking at when he looked in the mirror, only a lot more alive and happier.

“Hello, mister. I'm Dae!” she introduced herself without hesitation and a beaming smile.

Yoongi couldn't help but let out a happy laugh, all the tension easing for a moment.

What would happen after today? Only time could tell. But for today, you would let them have this. And maybe you did this as much for him as you did for yourself.

To finally find real closure to all this.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #min yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #suga imagine #bangtan boys #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #min yoongi #suga #yoongi #reader #requests

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Sentiment

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Inspired by Lorde’s Hard Feelings

“Three years, loved you every single day, made me weak, it was real for me.”

a/n: fluff+angst mixed because i’m in the feels.

It seems as though you’re running out of time.

The room is empty while you’re laying on your stomach on the hot mattress. There’s a fan in the corner of the room, doing its best to cool the air but the breeze coming from the window does much better. Your eyes close as the record fills the walls of the room.

You sigh, finding a more comfortable position on your back while the ceiling becomes a screen where you relive all your cherished memories. It would go away, you thought, all the comparisons and the flashbacks you had once things settled down but they keep coming back to you.

It’s been a month since he broke up with you.

It had been expected from your part. He’d been away at first, barely calling and when he did arrive at last, he told you he wanted some space. The sweet man who told you to spend the night with him each time you were around had turned into a cold brick of ice right in front of your eyes.

You’d never know the real reason why he broke up with you.

He’d told you he didn’t love you anymore at first, that his heart was tired of you but you that to be a lie from the way his lips trembled after he’d said it. He then moved onto another excuse, he had another lady. It was better than the last lie but it was a lie regardless. He’d never been good at lying to you.

There was nothing to do but leave.

It had taken you three weeks to get over the shock of not having him around anymore and the last week was spent reliving all the memories that would not leave you. The smallest things reminded you of him, but you figured it would pass.

Your housemate came in through the front door but you were too occupied in your thoughts about Alfie to realise. She knew you were having trouble forgetting the first man you loved, she figured some space would do you some good.

You watched the sunlight flicker on the ceiling, its shadow chased the sunset while the room stayed silent. You’d heard things around, about how he had a new girl. She was prettier, apparently, much more adored than you were at his side or at least that was what you heard from Ollie’s girl.

The truth was, Alfie had told Ollie’s girl to say those things to you, knowing that she saw you around.

There were too many things going on in that head of Alfie’s. He was getting into extremely dangerous territory in business lately and he desperately wanted to protect you. He knew there were better ways to go about it than breaking up with you but it had to be done fast and right away.

Alfie had never been the one to care for someone the way he cared about you and before getting into the relationship, he’d told you he swam with the big sharks. You hadn’t cared then, you were blindsided by your fascination with Alfie to realise that he was indeed working with dangerous people.

It wasn’t until they had threatened him with you that he realised the kind of danger he was putting you in.

It wasn’t fair.

You soon found yourself on the back porch of the balcony. The air danced around with your hair as you tried to focus on the book in your hands but it was helpless. Putting the book down, you closed your eyes, imagining the way he said your name each night in between the sheets you used to share.

Even though he had your heart, a growing part of you also hated him.

You hated him for being so cruel. You’d not known love before Alfie. He had taken your clueless self and made you happy, genuinely happy to the point where life would feel incomplete without his love. It wasn’t life you depended on his love but it had made life better for you. It had felt like things were right where they needed to be.

A knock came from the door extended to the porch and you saw your housemate, she had a smile on her face. Getting up, you shook your head, signalling for her to speak but it was far too late.

You saw his figure looming around in the dark corridor.

You could’ve ran into his arms, telling him just how much you missed him but the part of you that had gotten hurt had too much pride. The words that came out of your housemate’s mouth were a mystery to you as you approached his figure, brows furrowed due to how confused you were.

Why now?

As you stood right in front of him, the light coming from the living room hit his face in flickers, showing you the new cuts and bruises he had gained. You saw the small patches of bandage around his temple but decided not to ask, it wasn’t any of your business now.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not being able to wait any longer. He didn’t have his cane in hand which meant that he was feeling better.

“Pet, I need to talk to ya’.” he said in a softer voice than you were used to. You saw the plea in his eyes which made you nod. You murmured a small ‘this way’ as he followed you to the living room.

You ignored the comment, it would upset you further if you went ahead and told him not to call you that. You couldn’t tell him that the pet name only reminded of the times he’d chanted your name behind closed doors, or when he’d hug you so tight you’d forget the worries of the world and find yourself to be completely calm.

Instead, you sat in front of him on the table that was situated in the living room right in front of the large window you used to wait for him. You gulped, he sensed the tension but said nothing while examining your features, you were as beautiful as ever.

“Do you need something?” you asked, your voice was far too harsh with him but he knew he deserved it.

He deserved the kicks and the shouts and the shit you would give him for leaving you.

“Luv, that’s not why I came, yeah, I need to tell ya’ somethin’.” he spoke, he seemed more fidgety than usual.

Your eyes drifted away for a second from his eyes to the room. It could be anything, you thought. Being with Alfie meant surprises and it didn’t matter that you weren’t seeing him anymore, he was still sitting at the table like he usually would be.

“Go ahead.” you spoke, almost like a small encouragement on your part.

“I miss ya’.”

There it was.

Alfie and feelings didn’t go well, he would get bothered and all frustrated when he felt the tiniest emotion but he couldn’t help but voice the feelings that had been hunting him for so long. He had to tell you.

You knew he did, you missed him very much yourself but that didn’t change things. He knew that for a fact. You just blinked at his words, not able to muster up the witty comeback you usually had. There was silence for a while then, he got to speaking again once he realised that you were too hurt to say anything.

“Ya’ know very well, yeah, that my line of business is no place for a fuckin’ weak spot.” he spoke, trying to reason with you but you weren’t even speaking.

“I’m the weak spot?” you spoke, offended in the slightest mostly because you couldn’t pinpoint what he was trying to say.

“You’re my weak spot.” he spoke, sighing once he was done with the sentence. He was tired, you could tell from the way he slouched but that didn’t faze you.

“And?” you spoke, your heart was still hurt from the way he ended things, he had been as gentle as he could be but you were still covered with emotional wounds. He knew that.

“You came to tell me that you miss me but you’ll do nothing about it because I’m a weak spot?” you spat out, not realising that your voice was higher than it should be. It didn’t matter to him.

When he ended things, you’d abruptly left.

No words, no screams or insults thrown his way. It was the first time he had seen you that calm, there were thunderstorms inside your orbs but you’d chosen to keep that to yourself.

He needed you to shout that day, he needed you to tell him that you hated him and that you never wanted to see him again so he would hear the words and have a reason to stay away from you. But you hadn’t done that. You’d just murmured a small ‘okay’ and left his office.

He was frustrated at you for being this mature.

A sigh left his lips, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hurt but there’s nothing he can pinpoint.

“Pet, I jus’ came to...” he started speaking but the thoughts were soon lost.

Why was he here?

You let him take his time, your angry side was a little calmer now that you’d seen just how hurt he was. He was angry at himself, for whatever reason it was and you knew Alfie’s anger was not something to mess with.

It took him ten minutes to talk again.

Meanwhile, you waited and walked around the apartment. Your housemate had left the minute Alfie came in, mostly because she thought that you would have a fight and she didn’t want to be near that. She’d seen Alfie’s angry side once when he’d heard that you’d been hanging around with the youngest Shelby and it wasn’t pretty.

You brought Alfie a glass of water and waited with a book in your hand as he tried to find the words, he was fighting with himself to come to a conclusion. He then cleared his throat which made you put the book away, he was taking his time.

“Will ya’ take me back, luv?” his voice was hoarse as he spoke, he didn’t touch the glass of water you’d brought him.

His ocean blue eyes bored into yours as he waited for an answer but you were too hesitant to say anything.

A part of you desperately wanted to, he was your Alfie after all. He’d given you the best years of your life and you knew that you’d always love him in some way or another but the rational part of your brain thought him to be a monster for being this cruel to you.

You scoffed, a chuckle soon followed.

The audacity he had never failed to surprise you.

“Why would I?” you spoke, a part of you needed him to convince you that he still loved you. And he did.

“Cause I can’t-” he spoke but his fingers went to rub his eyes, he hadn’t slept in so long. It wasn’t the same in the empty bed. “I can’t fuckin’ function, right, I need ya’.” he spat out, eyes desperate as they told you what you needed to know.

You blinked, eyes filled with confusion and agony as Alfie looked at you. He wasn’t the one for voicing out his opinions, he’d show how he felt through his actions most of the time so hearing him say the words made you feel as desperate as he was.

“Alfie, you can’t just..” you started speaking but you knew he was just as needy as you were.

You couldn’t act like you hadn’t thought about him every single day since he’d broken up with you. It hurt but it hurt more to miss him, not having him by your side had been something you still weren’t used to.

“Do you want me to leave?” he spoke, giving you the space you might need since he happened to be a decent person.

You shook your head immediately.

You didn’t want him to leave. His presence made you feel better in all senses of the world and you couldn’t afford to feel the burning in your heart again so you made sure he sat down before you spoke.

He’d stay but he had to pay for the hurt he had caused you.

“You can stay but you have to tell me what happened...” you said, eyes not meeting his eyes he looked directly into them.

He was holding back a smile.

“...and don’t lie to me about having a mistress again. I know you don’t.” you finished the sentence, you didn’t actually know if he was seeing someone again but this would do to confirm the suspicion on your mind.

“How could I.” he said under his breath like you couldn’t hear it but you just faintly smiled at the sentence.

“And I won’t just forgive you in the blink of an eye.” you spoke as Alfie watched. His eyes glistened with amusement and endless excitement this time.

“You have to earn it.”

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Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @itsjusttaralove

a/n: Let me know what you thought of the chapter/if you want to be tagged!! <3 I also just started uni again and it’s quite hectic so i apologise if i’m not able to reply to any messages!!

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