#current mood: everyone deserves a goddamn break

[esnyshire]

Split

summary: Ms. Tegan Peach Burn is the CEO of Bruiser & Burn Law Associates. As her and her team search for the missing pieces to their current case, a heated argument turns steamy very quickly. Mr. Styles, one of Ms. Burns student lawyers has a thirst for second chair, a short tempter and lacks control over his urges.

warning: boss/employee dynamic, dirty talk, some degrading, hardcore fucking, rage sex, harry is a teasing little prick, Tegan likes it nasty rough

wc: 5.4k

♫ Stay Awake by Dishwalla

The hard stomps of my boss' heels echo off the walls of the law firm, she makes herself known in the most nerve-racking way. It reminds me of that immediate panic I'd get when hearing keys or heels coming down the hall at school. You knew, when you weren't supposed to be doing something but you still somehow ended up there. That's the exact way everyone feels who works with Ms. Burn when those elevator doors ding.

My coworkers all scramble to make themselves presentable, collecting the stacks of evidence we dug up for the trail. These last few days have been tortious. She's been over-working us, sporadically allowing breaks, expecting us to stay unethical hours at the office, and trying any tactic to get things moving quicker. She's been rather emotional over this case and has taken it out on everyone in the firm.

Law school had taken a big portion of my sanity years ago, and it feels like she picked up on that and is breathing down my back more than the rest of the team. she sees how desperate I am to be second chair and dangles it in my face to get at me. I'm the first one in the office and the last one to lock up. Everyone knows I deserve it. I work hard, I never complain and she's no fucking picnic. Her assistants quit every week, and she picks me to take the load off her back every time.

The majority of my coworkers won't even try to work with her. They would much rather be with anyone else in the firm. How I see it, if you want to be the best you have to learn from the best. Ms. Burn is just that, my best option.

Tegan is one of a kind. She's what everyone wants. A way out. A second chance. An opportunity.

She's smart, callous, and determined. The first woman to rank in the top three for best lawyer in the Continental U.S.

An elite. In more ways than one.

At least I think.

With every click of her heels, my mind slips further into panic mode, trying to decipher in the way she walks if she's in one of her moods or not. The food I just scarfed down, threatens its way back up my esophagus. I swallow harshly leaning back in my chair, debating on if I should attempt to run through the tempered glass window and plummet to my eighty-seven-story death.

"I just finished up with Mrs. Stein," Ms. Burn barely walks into the room, wasting no time to start working. "We are missing something, I can't put my finger on it! I looked over every file trying to come up with something that isn't right but goddamn, this case is fucking me right now." Her raunchy statement goes under the radar. Everyone is so used to her, they barely flinch. "The maid, the doorman, his wife, the daughter, his estranged son, along with the death certificate of the estranged son's mother. Every single fucking witness statement!" Tegan thrashes her briefcase out in front of her, struggling to get her arm out of the sleeve of her pea coat. She rambles on like she's the only one in the room. Her eyebrows crease and her anxious lip biting begins.

It's safe to say that although I am very much afraid of my boss, I am also extremely turned on whenever she yells. Since the start of my career at Bruiser & Burn Law Associates, she's had me pitched in my slacks. Even after years of seeing how wicked she is, it did nothing to hinder my attraction for her. Her temper is what fuels my interest. I'm constantly wondering if she's just as temperamental in bed as she is in the office. Whether her tongue is as witty when she's tied up and pinned to the bed. Fantasies flash in my mind every day since working with her, I'm not happy about it one bit. I want to hate her. She makes my life hell. The drop of her suitcase snaps me back to reality.

"We have the murder weapon, two prints. His wife's and the maid. How can I miss som-" she pauses and looks around the room, quickly becoming irritated. "Why haven't any of you figured this out yet!?"

"If you haven't found it yet, how do you expect them to? Tegan- I mean Ms. Burn I thi-" I begin to say, but I'm cut off by her yelling.

"I refuse to have the judge and jury believe his wife murdered him all for money, after all, we've..." she covers her mouth and looks away, gathering herself before she speaks again. But I speak before she does.

"You're right," I say. "Someone's lying." The bile in my throat from holding down my vomit is still fresh as it burns its way down.

"What are you implying Styles?" She scoffs. She always questions my thinking, just cause she can.

"I was simply saying-" she interrupts me again. Right about now I'd be screaming back, and putting up a fight. Anything to get her to shut the fuck up. Her words cuts like knives but those soft pretty lips look like they can do no wrong...

God.

"I don't care what you were saying, I care about my client. I care about how she's being falsely accused of murdering her fucking husband!" Her face turns pink and her voice picks up an octave.

The only fucked up part about this is she's basically a dark cloud that looms over her own office. This case has her exploding with feelings. She suffocates us, shoveling her pent-up anger on my back and drowning us all in the process. But God is she sexy and on any day before today, you would've heard me express my dislike for her. Except right now, I can't get the visual of her legs wrapped around my neck out of my damn head.

"You'll give a fuck about what I'm saying when you find out your little widow is hiding something from you!" My jaw tightens, instinctively stopping myself from speaking anymore.

She stares, examining my face. Probably wondering if she imagined someone speaking down to her.

It's been very challenging to contain my secret urges , but I also don't hide my distaste for Tegan. it's almost impossible to keep my mouth shut and simultaneously hide the strong desire to shove my cock so far down her throat she won't be able to talk for a week.

I've worked for Tegan long enough to know that she does not do relationships. I know she has sex because they call here sometimes, asking for her but she just leaves them on hold and never gets back to them. They either get filtered or just hang up. Work is her life and I don't think she'd ever put anyone above it. Although I've been hiding my feelings towards Peach, I can't help but feel like today is the day it all gonna come rushing out.

God forgive me for what I'm about to do.

"Look who knows how to shut up." My whole body freezes, regretting my word vomit instantly. The battle happening within me has me not thinking so clearly. I need to get out of here.

"Everyone out!" She yells. Her fists are balled as she continues to stare at the floor. "Leave your shit where it is and get out. I don't need you anymore. Go home."

Instantly my palms begin to clam, I can't even get myself to look at her. I push myself off the chair and begin to make a b line for the elevator, I barely make it past the threshold.

"Not you. You're mine for the night. Sit." She walks around the table, reaching for one of today's evidence piles.

I finally get to courage to look her way, standing with a Manila folder. She flicks through the pages skimming over information. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I already feel this night is going to be filled with screaming.

With the last of her employees entering the elevator not far behind her, I feel the safety of a group dynamic diminish. The second we hear the ding of the closing doors, she lets me have it.

"How fucking dare you speak to me like that! In front of my firm?! At all?!" She shouts.

This was not how it was supposed to go. I just can't fucking stand her. She's all loud and powerful and I like that shit.

She riled me up! She fucking started it.

"I let you in my firm, I taught you, I still do?! I let you in on wonderful cases!" She points at me, her movements are so hard I feel free her finger pressed to my chest from 10 feet away.

"I-" I go to speak.

Bad idea. She hastily makes her way to where I'm standing. She pushes me into the chair and rests her palms on the armrests.

"Who said to speak." Her words sound more like a demand than a request.

"I own this," She waves her hand all around her, making sure I know what she means. "I've worked hard for it, I don't-"

"I never said you didn't work hard, you're just horrible at listening to people." I rush out my words, I feel myself growing frustrated.

Just breathe.

"You think people listened to me when I had something to say?! I'm a woman in a man's field." She scoffs, rolling her eyes like a little kid just stepped on her brand new white shoes. "I crawled my way to the top. Bloody nails and all to prove it!"

"I treat you the same way my father treated me when I worked for him."

"Disposable?"

"It's cause you are." she doesn't even hesitate to confirm my suspicions.

"You're not-"

"If I wanted to talk about my daddy issues with someone, it would be my therapist." With every word, a brick is added to her wall. "Call Mrs. Stein, tell her I need to speak with her." She sighs, handing me the folder. "I'll be organizing in the meantime."

I nod and make my way to the phone attached to the wall. I dial the numbers and wait.

"Stein's residence." A voice breaks the ringing.

"Hello Mrs. Stein? it's Mr. Styles from Bruiser & Burn Law Associates."

"Speaking. Is everything ok?"

" Yes, Mrs. Stein. I'm calling on behalf of your lawyer Ms. Burn. She has asked that you to come in and we can speak about some things involving the case."

"Right now?"

"Yes, that would be in your best-" The line goes dead. I feel the wire, making sure it's still incorrectly. Then the dial tone button.

I type the numbers again, trying to call back but the lights begin to dim around me, breaking my attention from the phone to the ceiling. The sound of the high-powered electric building hums loudly as it powers down.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." I hear Tegan on a mission to the circuit breakers. I quickly follow behind her, wanting to know what's happening. Our last contact with the outside world gets severed when the light above the elevator begins to flicker until it can't any more.

"Shit, shit, shit." Tegan pulls at the root of her hair, panic slowly starts to settle in.

She runs past me, and into her office. She grabs her purse and shuffled through it until she finds what she needs. I go to speak but I'm interrupted by a yelp of happiness.

"Yes!" She clicks some buttons on her blackberry as she checks her phone book for a number.

"No, no, no!"

"What?" I run to her office and see her fiddling with her phone. I run to my office adjacent to hers and grab my phone.

I get the same realization when I read 'NO SERVICE' in bright blinking letters across my blackberry.

We are stuck.

"Fuck." I whisper to myself.

The creeping feeling from earlier comes back to me at full force. I'm alone with my bitch of a boss and I happen to want to fuck her brains out.

I can do this.

I just need to stay level-headed.

Hard isn't even the word to use for the amount of restraint I'm using to stop myself from doing the things I want to do.

"Looks like we're stuck here for the weekend." She's in the frame of my door with her stupid fucking calm demeanor.

"What do you mean the weekend?" The thought of being stuck in this building with Tegan for the next three days does not sound bearable.

All the privacy in the world, no interruptions, and no avoiding.

"Well, yeah. This building is electrically powered. Since we have no service and the backup generator hasn't kicked in yet. So, I'd say we are stuck until someone comes into work." she pauses with a fake tight-lipped smile.

"Want to eat leftover Pad Thai with me in my room?" She asks me, taking a look at her watch not even phased by our predicament.

"No, I don't want your- you were just freaking out, why the fuck are you so calm right now." I grab my hair and pull on the roots.

"I sleep here, it's no different-"

"Stop talk! Just stop talking!" I yell.

No different. Sure, absolutely none right? Except I'm here stuck with you and I'm a ticking sex bomb ready to blow.

"Would you calm down, it's not that ser-"

"Stop talking before I make you." The stunned look on her face tells me all I need to know.

Here we go.

"You don't know when to shut the fuck up do you?"

"I'm your boss."

"Like I could forget! You remind us every chance you get." I scoff. "You have the prettiest goddamn lips, but the downside to them is only vicious things come out of it."

"Mr. Styles! I'm giving you one chance to take back the things you've said tonight."

She puts on this boss-like act, trying to ignore the fact that my degrading words have her clamping her thighs together to get some type of relief.

"Shut the fuck up. You talk a lot you know that?" Her hand shoots up to her mouth to cover it. She hesitates, doing what she was told to do but questioning why she listened in the first place.

"I'm gonna talk this time and you're going to listen. Got that?"

She nods.

"Good girl."

Tegan P.O.V

What is happening?

I don't like this. Not one fucking bit.

He's my employee. I can't. The throbbing between my legs has me obediently obliging.

I've had my fantasies about Harry, I partially hired him because of how attractive he is. The only thing that stopped me from pursuing him was the mutually agreed hatred my employees have for me, he jumped right on the bandwagon.

"You are cold, stubborn, and a know it all." He lists things I've heard my whole life. "You don't know what teamwork is and for the life of me, I can't understand why you push everyone away." He's barely even started and he's already hit some nerves. I look down at my feet in disappointment."But you are the sexiest woman I've ever laid eyes on and I can't keep myself from getting hard when you yell at me."

"I-"

"What the fuck did I just say?" His voice is low, barely above a whisper.

"Fuck you! You can't just insult me and expect me not to say anything!"

"Oh, I was planning on it." His sadistic tone only turns me on more, goosebumps form all down my spine. No. I can't let this happen. The first thing I think to do is leave. So, that's exactly what I do. I can't go anywhere, but it's the effort that counts.

"Get back here." He demands.

"For what? So you can berate again? No thanks." I shuffle with the paper in front of me, needing something to distract myself with.

He walks up to my back, leaving no room for me to move. My hands fall flat on the stacks of files, my breathing stops and I feel like I could pass out. I've wanted this since his first day of working here. This shouldn't be happening but I can't control my body cause there's no oxygen coming to my brain. I'm a fucking vegetable and it's the worst timing because I need this. I'd also love to hear him moaning my name. Fuck me.

The cold fabric of his pants suit snakes its way between my legs. His thigh puts pressure on my ass and my whole body shivers from the soft touch of Harry's hand on my waist.

"What are you doing?" I'm so out of breath I can barely get the sentence out. It's getting harder to breathe, oh god.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice is strained with a hint of curiosity.

No, why would I want that?

He slides his hand across my torso to the valley between my breasts, pulling my body into his. My head rolls back on his shoulder as my body falls into him. My mouth moves before my brain can process and that's the last of my sanity.

"Are you going to fuck me or what?"

"How do you like it Peach?"

"Peach?"

He quickly grabs me by my throat and puts a little pressure, just enough to feel that rush I love so much. Oh, so that's how we're playing this? I assumed he was pressed and prim.

"I gave you options, but I'm thinking now I should just show you how I like it. Sound good Peach?"

I smile a little at him using my middle name.

"Fantastic." I roll my eyes.

He turns me around and slams his lips to mine.

The kiss is sloppy and desperate. His hands roughly explore my body and I instinctively reach for his  hair. I slip my fingers through the short brown curly hair and tug on him to be closer to me.

I guide my hands down his back, taking off his suit. His hands make their way to my breast, groping and massaging my tender nipples through my bra. He harshly rips my shirt. Buttons fly across the office as I squeal in shock.

"I knew you were a dirty fucking lawyer." He breaks the kiss and goes for his belt.

My stomach flips in the excitement of this beautiful man stripping in front of me. "Shut up and take your cock out." He lets his pants fall to his feet and kicks them off. He walks to me, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. I gulp hard as I see his shirt pitch up a little, I look closer to see it's his dick, sticking so far out it's damn near stretching the fabric.

His hands glide up my thighs, causing goosebumps to travel to my already hardened nipples. "I'd like you to know one thing before I stuff your pretty little cunt." My breath hitches in my throat, I look him straight in the eyes and wait for him to continue. "I think about fucking you way more than I should" he whispers, lifting me to sit on the table. "I wonder how good your mouth feels." He takes his time in feeling my body, holding me close. Leaving wet and bruising kisses on my chest. Suckling softly as he travels up to my neck.

"I've fantasized you riding my dick, screaming my name. It'd do you some good to scream out of pleasure than out of anger, don't you think?" He chuckles in my ear. He snaps my bra strap on my skin and a small hiss escapes my lips. I can feel him smiling in the way he's breathing. My pelvis bucks against the table, trying to get some type of relief for my poor clit.

"Fuck." I speak out. I feel so dizzy. The whole office smells of Harry and I'm stuck on stupid. "Just fucking touch me."

"Oh don't worry sugar lips, I will." He grabs me by the back of my neck and presses our lips together. He wastes no time in ripping my skirt by the slit on the side, exposing my crotchless thong. He lifts my legs to his waist and goes to touch my swollen clit. What has him doing a double-take is the pink rubber oval ring sticking out of my vagina. Along with a shiny diamond butt plug to match.

"I thought you said you knew I was dirty?" He stares at my dripping core, not even listening. I laugh at him and spread my legs some more. Giving him full access to his watch party. "Harry?"

"C'mon baby, look up while you fuck me with your tongue." I feel myself growing impatient, feeling that small fire in my stomach grows.

Harry pulls my core up to his chest, just below his chin. His breath fans over my pussy and my head thumps against the table. I'm practically levitating with Harry using all his core strength to keep me level to his face. He licks a stripe up my wet lips. My mouth drops in pleasure, finally chipping away the ache that's formed rather quickly.

A moan slips from my lips. "Oh god."

"You can do better than that." He pushes his face down back to my cunt, sucking hard on my clit. My back arches and my fingers claw at my thighs.

"Fuck, that feels so good. Harry don't stop." I gasp for air. "More" He slips his middle finger in my soaking core, feeling my walls wrap around him. He curves his finger in subtle movements, allowing the slow build to burn its way through my body.

"You like that Peach? I've barely touched you and you're ready for me." He stifles a laugh and I groan in frustration. His silly little banter with himself has me feeling flustered.

"Please, cut the fucking shit," I yell in pleasure as he continues his fast finger motions. He takes his free hand and brings his thumb to my clit, circling until I'm crunching up towards him. He takes a second finger and enters me slowly this time. Barely allowing me to adjust.

"Oh fuck!" I moan with my jaw locked tight. So much is happening in such a short time, before I know it I'm coming all over his fingers.

"That's right, make a mess for me Peach. Tell me how you feel." He pressures me to speak.

"Don't stop!"

"Yes!"

"Lemme hear it, baby!" He grunts as he thrashes his hand in and out of my pussy, curving his fingers at just the right angle to make my toes curl in my stilettos.

"Harry!" I cry out, eyes rolling to the back of my head. My abs are sore and so are my legs, my body goes limp and he lays me on the table. He hovers over me kissing my damp skin. I haven't opened my eyes yet, they feel so heavy I barely have the strength to look up.

He takes his tongue and travels across my breasts and down my stomach.  I'm grabbed by my wrists and forcefully sat up. He tilts my chin up to look at him. "Look at me, Tegan."

My name coming out of his mouth had my eyes shooting open.

"Tell me to keep going." He demands.

"Keep doing." I rush out. He lifts my legs above his shoulder and whips out his cock, he positions himself at my entrance and slowly teases my hole. He sinks his tip in which elicits a grumble from the depths of Harry's chest. He teases his way in, barely moving an inch. I'm caught off guard when he slams himself in me, hitting my cervix one good time. Just to show he can.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good Peach," his voice is deep and slow. I've never heard him sound like this before. My pussy tightens around him at the nickname he's given me. "Fuck you 'till you can't walk anymore." He grabs me by my hair and pulls me to kiss him. His lips are soft and my brain is fuzzy I can't even put together a coherent sentence.

"Mhm." I moan.

He braces himself and thrusts into me again. This time it's fast and rough. With every slap of his balls against my ass, he fucks a small gasp of air out of me. From the harsh kisses to my lips, and the rough smacking of skin to my already bruised pussy I feel ready to cum again.

"Oh god, I'm close." I reach out to him, scratching at his arms and back. Trying to keep me from screaming out.

"Not so fast." He pulls out and flips me around. He spreads my legs with his foot and lifts me so I stand on my tiptoes. He places his hands on the crease of my arm and holds them behind my back. He's so hard he doesn't need hands to line himself up to my cunt. He slams into me the hardest he has tonight, grunting and heavy breathing are all that surround my ears and I'm falling further into hell because I have never felt dirtier. He licks up my back and blows a cold burst of air, blinding my senses temporarily.

"Harder." I barely get the word out.

"Gladly, now throw it back Peach or I'm going to stop" He pulls on my arms, thrusting deeper into me. My head falls foreword.

I open my eyes and see he's staring at me through the glass, sweat collects on his forehead from the workout he's putting in. His hair is stringy and his lips are red from biting them so much. He presses a wet kiss to my lips as he grabs my neck to bring me closer to him.

He bends his knees and slides back into me, from the new angle i feel a million different things, my body erupts in chills as a guttural sound escapes my body from being contorted in positions I'm not used to. I'm overstimulated, to say the least. I can't feel my feet and my head feels hot while my chest feels cold. I'm shaking consistently as he slowly pumps himself with my body.

"I'm not done with you yet." He speaks out into the room.

"I'd hope so." I giggle.

A smack echo off the walls of the office, immediately stinging begins on my right ass cheek. Adrenaline rushes through my body as he cracks down again on the same spot.

"Shit!" I screwed my eyes as my pussy clamps down again.

"I'm having so much fun seeing what's gets you off." He grunts. "How easy it is to make you cum."

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me!" I lose more of my resolve as I beg for him to do something. Crack. This time it's my left cheek.

That's gonna bruise.

"I love it when you yell at me." He pulls out and moans as he sees my juices dripping off him. He turns me around and slides two-finger across his dick, gathering some cum and shoving them in my mouth.

"Look how pretty you've made my cock." He tilts his head as he watches me suck on his fingers. "I wanna see you choke now." He pushes me down to my knees and I waste no time and shove him in my mouth. I moan at the taste of my juices mixed with his pre cum. "Show me what you got my Peach" he smiles down at me. I swirl my tongue around his tip, feeling him throb in my mouth. My eyes close in satisfaction. I push myself down on him, taking in every inch until I can't anymore. His tip is sensitive and thrusts forward accidentally causing me to choke. The small panic of not being able to breathe only encourages me to keep going. Bobbing my head at a speed that has my head feel light.

"Oh, yes." He vocalizes. "Tegan, mhm just like that." I'm so worked up I reach between my legs and begin to touch myself, wanting nothing more than to feel that so deserved orgasm. He opens his eyes to look at me in a disapproving way. He shakes his head and tisks at me. His finger sways in front of my face like I'm a cat that just knocked over the plants. He grabs my face and shoved his cock to the back of my throat. He violently fucks my mouth as his eyes squint tight and grind his teeth against his bottom lip.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" He yells at me, barely able to keep his voice stable. He gives me no time to adjust to standing and bends me over. My hands are gripping my ankles and I can see him pressing his dick to my clit. He playfully glides his tip against my lips, collecting out juices and pumping his cock.

"Let me help you with that my Peach." His voice is soft, yet sounds like he's holding onto his last peace of rationality.

"Please."

He pushes himself in and stills for a second, trying not to cum from my constant clenching. It's beginning to hurt and I don't think I can manage to go any longer. I feel like I'm going to pass out. He holds me up with one arm across my torso, squeezing my hard nipple getting me to clench even hard than before. I cry out in pain as he continues his torturous mission. As he slides his fingers across my clit I feel my nails dig into my ankles. I'm trying to distract myself, need something to keep me from melting in his hands.

"Come on Tegan, let go." He comes in my ear. "I've got you Peach." His words are reassuring and make my body goes numb in pleasure.

"Harry, please." His fingers on my clit won't stop and his thrusts only get harder as I try to keep my balance.

"I wanna feel you wrap around my cock, your warm pretty pussy feels good. Oh god." He moans out his sentence.

He's in another world, gripping and pulling me into his body. It's an indescribable feeling that begins to pulse in my ears. The constant building in my stomach reaches its peak and I'm screaming my life away. Giving everything I've held back this whole time.

"Fuck me, Harry! I love it! Yes! Ah!"

"Harder?"

"Yes!"

"Anything for you, Ms. Burn."

"Oh my god!" My legs begin to cramp as the blood rushes to my head.

Harry twitches inside me no longer after.

"Peach. My Peach. Oh, Tegan. Yes! Fuck! " he doubles over in pleasure. We fall to the cold ground together, unable to catch out breaths as we ride our highs.

"That was..." I say.

"Yeah...that was..." he says.

"Yeah."

We look at each other and burst out in laughter. My mouth is so dry and the room is spinning, I don't even register the click of the emergency door opening, and footsteps approaching the office.

"Ms. Burn, Styles! Are you ok?" our co-worker comes rushing in, leaving no time to cover ourselves.

"Oh shit, sorry I heard yelling I thought you guys were... fighting." He looks around the room and falls on my breasts. Harry is quick to cover them.

"OI! Get the fuck out!" he points at him.

"Right, my bad." He focuses on the floor and walks backward. He bumps into the frame of the door. "The power will be back up shortly. Ms. Stein saved the day. She said the call went dead but she still showed up. When she did arrive the doors were locked and security couldn't get out. The electrician was called" He frantically says. "She's waiting for you down in the main hall." He rushes out the room, buying us some time to get dressed.

"Is my peach all pleased and bruised?" I roll my eyes and slap his ass, he jumps and uses the cluster of clothes to hide.

"Just peachy." I giggle out my words. "Bruised and peachy."

#harry styles #harry #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb #esnyshire #harry styles rec #fic rec #harry styles fanfiction

[ladykissingfish]

Driving with the Akatsuki

Itachi

Driving with this guy is ... nerve-wracking, to say the very least. It’s not as though he’s a reckless automobile operator; he observes all the laws of traffic, the radio is at a reasonable volume ((he’s the type to listen to podcasts rather than music)), he follows the speed limits, he actually slows down at a yellow light — but it’s the near-misses that are daunting. The just barely stopping in time before hitting the old lady crossing the street. The running up on the curb while parking. And then there was that incident with the tree — Itachi legally has to wear glasses when driving, but his passengers often wonder whether the glasses actually HELP him. Even with them on, he squints A LOT. And only someone with nerves of absolute steel, like Kisame or Kakuzu, will be in a car with him at night. However he is with driving, one thing he’s not blind in, is his car’s cleanliness. Will make passengers wipe feet before getting in, and after everyone is gone he’ll carefully scour the seats to remove even the faintest trace of lint or gum wrappers or any disturbance at all. Can be a bit of a “mom” driver; a holdover from his teenage years of constantly having to chauffeur around his younger brother and his brother’s rambunctious friends.

Kakuzu

Anyone getting into a vehicle with Kakuzu is in for a surprise. 91 years old? Surely he drives slow and steady, like a typical little old man, right? WRONG. Kakuzu is a goddamn speed-demon. He barrels down streets, he flies through intersections. Not many know this about him, but he was very much into drag-racing as a (much) young(er) man, and his current proclivity for quickness is a holdover from those days. Luck always seems to be on his side, as he’s gotten caught/received speeding tickets far less than he deserves. To make matters scarier, Kakuzu’s radio system has been broken for two years (and of course he’s too cheap to get it fixed), and the back left window doesn’t roll up to the top; so the only sound his passengers will hear is the wind rushing past the glass and Kakuzu’s deep, sinister chuckles as he sees other drivers (and pedestrians) scramble to get out of his way. Also, unless you’re a CLOSE-close friend, don’t expect a ride from him unless you have gas money.

Deidara

In all honesty, the blonde prefers to be the passenger rather than the driver, even in his own car. He gets his best inspirations for future art pieces when he’s traveling around, and it’s hard to pick up a sketch book when you need to be paying attention to the road. When he does have to be behind the wheel himself, he’s a fairly average driver. His passengers are always at risk of a case of auditory whiplash, as Deidara’s (loudly played) music tastes switch from one extreme to the other; and the guy isn’t exactly shy about singing along to his favorites. He’s also one of those eat-on-the-go guys, and his backseat will almost always be buried under a myriad of candy wrappers, empty plastic soda bottles and discarded burger wrappers. In the summer he prefers the wild and free feeling of having all the windows down, rather than turning the AC on, and he’ll have to remember to firmly tie up his long hair and keep it from blowing in his eyes or else everyone in the car will be taking an unscheduled trip into the nearest tree.

Zetsu

His car always has that calm, natural, “special plant” scent to it. The kind of smell that causes a panic when Zetsu sees a police officer anywhere in the area. A very relaxed driver; seat almost all the way back, one hand barely on the steering wheel. Obeys the speed limit but can put the pedal to the metal when in a hurry. Likes to listen to mostly reggae or jazz, and taps his fingers on he dashboard along to the beat. Water-bottle hoarder; has at least 1000 plastic water bottles, in varying staging of fullness, all over the front and back seats. The type to keep driving around the block until the song ends. Also the type to have really deep conversations with his passengers, and drive them out to really far away and scenic locations.

Hidan

If you have somewhere important to go, and need a ride, it’s best not to ask Hidan. He is the sort who always insists he knows a shortcut or a quicker route to every destination ... and ends up hopelessly lost. Can’t read a map to save his life and for some reason won’t trust a car’s gps system to guide him ((has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories about the voice behind the system)). Easily distracted by any and everything (both inside and outside of car), which makes being his passenger a bit daunting. Like Kakuzu, is a very fast driver, but infinitely more cautious as he has a LOT of tickets wracked up and isn’t looking to add more.

Really loves Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash; has a visor full of those CD’s and will play those rather than listen to the radio. Also has a butt-load of swear word laden and inappropriate humor bumper stickers.

Pein

Who needs a car when motorcycles exist? This guy has a classic hog that he keeps in mint condition, that he rides around wherever he goes. Every year he’ll try and convince his close friends to ditch their boring cars for something more sublime, only to be met sure emphatic No’s each time. Is very protective over his baby and will go ballistic over even the tiniest nick or scrape. Drives at a normal speed when by himself, but will drive just a bit faster when carting around a friend (especially if it’s a female friend). Doesn’t really like to wear a helmet himself but will insist on any passengers putting one on. Prefers the quiet of the open road but if in a musical mood it’s always 80’s hair bands; a lot of Def Leppard, Quiet Riot, Van Halen. Can do a variety of tricks on his bike but doesn’t do them often as he doesn’t like to “mess up” his baby any more than necessary.

Sasori

Absolutely 100% HATES driving. Has massive anxiety anytime he has to get behind the wheel, almost to the point where he’d need to take a sedative just to relax. Drives slower than the slowest driver you can think of. Yellow light? Slow down. Green light? Still slow down. Will drive himself to and from work, but any other time would prefer being a passenger in someone else’s car ((in which case he becomes the worst backseat driver in history)), or simply taking the bus. Doesn’t like giving rides to others but if he must, it’ll be a very tense, silent drive (forget about him turning on the radio and ‘breaking his concentration’), and he’ll freak out if a passenger takes their seatbelt off before the car comes to a complete stop. Also has a hyper-awareness to anything that might possibly be wrong with his car; if that check engine light comes on you can bet he’ll be at the mechanic in a heartbeat. Also the type who feels “uncomfortable” if gas tank is below 3/4 full.

Konan

The type who’s always heading somewhere/running errands, and will ask if you need a ride. Very neat and organized car, and always suspiciously shiny (as if she visits the carwash every other day). Seems to know absolutely everybody; is always waving at or honking to people in other cars. Keeps the radio volume down when she has passengers, but when alone she loves to sing at the top of her lungs to 90’s boy bands (her rendition of I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys is American-Idol worthy). Is always prepared for anything, especially in the winter; in her trunk is a shovel, an extra blanket, water bottles and protein bars, even emergency flares. May be pretty and delicate but definitely knows her way around a car; can change a tire or check the oil with the best of them.

Kisame

Has very long legs, so needs a car or truck that provides him ample room to stretch. A very relaxed and mellow driver, always puts whoever’s with him immediately at ease. Doesn’t use air fresheners in his car but inside always smells like whatever his cologne is, which is always yummy. Gets a lot of fast-food but always keeps the bags and wrappers stored neatly in a little garbage bag that he empties out daily. Will let his passengers do pretty much anything in his car EXCEPT smoke; he can’t stand the smell of tobacco. Isn’t really a Point A to Point B driver; will always think of other places to stop or visit en-route to his destination. Big fan of Musical music; his all-time favorite cd is the soundtrack to Grease. Also (when by himself) is a car-emoter; Kisame doesn’t let most people see anything but his cheerful side. Bring alone in his car is the only time he’ll cry, or scream, or express anger regarding events or people.

Obito

The type of driver who very often spaces out and “forgets” that he’s driving. Prefers traveling more with animals than with people; most likely to take his dog on a weeklong broad trip. Has been a smoker since his teenage years but is trying to quit, so in his car is the only place he “allows” himself a cigarette (but only when he’s completely alone). Almost started a fire once when he threw a still-lit cigarette out the window, but it flew into the backseat instead. Drives fairly slow unless he’s in a hurry for something (but even then his foot doesn’t press the gas pedal THAT much harder). His musical tastes depend on his mood but whatever he ends up listening to is always car-shakingly loud. Seems to have a new (and interesting) trinket hanging from his rear-view mirror every week. The kind who drives around for several days with his gas tank close to/touching on E because ”he knows his car, it’s fine”.

#the akatsuki #driving #vroom vroom #deidara #sasori #obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #zetsu #pein #konan #kakuzu #kisame #hidan

[thegreatestofheck]

Not So Unrequited ⚜ JJ Maybank ⚜

request - (from Anon)  JJ and the reader arguing about anything and he’s like I Love you and she’s begging him not to say it because she doesn’t think she can be loved. warnings - swearing (lots and lots your welcome), steaminess,  synopsis - in the middle of an argument with your best friend, he says something to you that you had never wanted to hear. 

(thank you for this, anon, I love it! I hope this is what you wanted, I made it a lil steamy because- well, I have no excuse. Threw a little bit of body positivity in there because everyone is beautiful, and you all deserve to know that.)

“God, you’re such an idiot,” Kie sighed, pressing an ice pack against JJ’s cheek. “She’s gonna be pissed.” 

JJ rolled his eyes, letting Kie baby him because it made the both of them feel a little bit better. He opened his mouth to say something when the door to the Chateau opened. 

He had expected it to fly open with a flurry followed by the hurricane that was y/n. But when it creaked slowly, barely opening enough for you to slide inside, both Kie and JJ froze. JJ flicked his gaze away from Kie and met yours. 

A chill ran down his spine at the look in your eye. Silent as you were, everything that you weren’t saying was storming behind your eyes. Your dead calm was more terrifying than your raging storm. 

You walked into the dark Chateau and leaned yourself up against the wall, crossing your arms. Tension shrouded the room. Kie felt like she had stepped in the middle of a show down, her movements on JJ’s bruised knuckles short and awkward. JJ knew he was about to get his ass handed to him in a verbal beat down and he wasn’t really in the mood for it right now. 

And you, you were pissed off. Beyond pissed off. 

Kie stood slowly, setting her cleaning supplies off to the side. She glanced quickly over at you, but your gaze was fixed solely on the blond boy currently nursing a bruised cheekbone. With a sigh, Kie put a hand on JJ’s shoulder. 

“Good luck,” she whispered before making a quick break for the door. JJ grunted in response.

The tension in the room increased ten times when Kie left. JJ refused to meet your gaze again, still holding the ice pack to his face. 

“Why are the lights off?” you asked, breaking through the silence. 

“Hurts my head,” JJ mumbled. You resisted the urge to sigh dramatically. 

“Cause you have a concussion. That’s what you get for getting in a 3-on-1 fight.” 

JJ tightened his jaw and slouched farther in his seat, dropping his hands into his lap. You finally let out that sigh you had been fighting back. Pushing yourself off of the wall, you crossed the room and lowered yourself to the floor in front of JJ’s feet. He watched you carefully with wide, curious eyes, just waiting for you to explode.

But you didn’t.

You lifted your hand slowly and took the ice pack from his hand and gently pressed it back against his swollen face. His breath hitched in his throat from the sudden cold. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

Being so close to you made him freeze, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. It made him want to throw up. He wondered why people liked falling in love if this was how it felt. Or maybe this was only what an unrequited love felt like. 

“You are a fucking idiot for taking those guys on like that,” you said, your voice quiet but shaking. 

“They were dicks,” JJ replied. He looked away from you as you cradled the ice pack in your hand. 

“You can’t fight every dick in the world, Jay.” 

“But I can fight every dick who treats you like shit.” 

You’re calmness started to quake, threatening to become something far more wild. 

“I don’t need you to defend me,” you told him, setting your jaw to keep your anger at bay. He had been trying to help, after all. JJ scoffed and slouched even farther. You pulled the ice pack away and scowled. “What, you think I need you to fight my own battles?” 

“You can but you don’t,” JJ snapped. “You let them harass you and call you names. You let them get away with it.” 

“I don’t let anyone do anything. I just don’t justify their taunting with a response. They’re not worth my time.” Your eyes narrowed at JJ. It had always been this way. Someone said anything bad about you and he would throw himself into a fight instantly, even if you were unphased. You just wondered why in the hell he thought that meant he should take it into his own hands. “If they’re not worth my time they’re sure as hell not worth you getting all bloodied up for.” 

“God, you do this every time.” JJ pushed himself up out of the chair and stepped past you. You glowered at him as he paced toward the other side of the room. Rising from you ground, you couldn’t bite back your irritated response. 

“Every time you do something stupid? Yeah, I’m sorry for caring about your sorry ass. Newsflash, jerk face, but I don’t like seeing you get beat up. It’s not fun, for any of us.” 

JJ ran his hands through his hair, but he didn’t say anything, which only fueled your fire even more. You crossed your arms and your glower turned into a full glare. 

“Why do you insist on fighting every goddamn prick who has to run their mouth?” You continued. “What’s so important that you have to throw yourself into every fight? Why can’t you just leave it be?” 

He still didn’t respond, but he turned his back on you as his face went red. 

“Huh? Are you listening to me? Jay, why-”

“Because I love you, goddammit!” JJ whirled around to face you, his eyes wide, his hair a mess, his breathing ragged. You stiffened, the anger in your chest vanishing like a painful mist. 

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the shock evident in your face. JJ’s face fell in desperation, dropping his hands back to his side. 

“I love you.” He said it again, much more desperate, but with no less emotion. JJ almost smiled. He took one short step toward you and you took one back, your eyes dropping to the ground. JJ’s smile fell. 

“Well, stop it,” was all you could find to say, your voice still quiet. 

“What?” You hated to hear the heartbreak in his voice, but it was better that you break his heart now than ten years down the road. 

“Just, stop!” Your hands trembled at your sides. 

“Stop what? Stop loving you? I tried that already and it didn’t work.” You crossed your arms over your stomach and turned your face away from him. “Say something, please. Anything.” 

“I don’t even know what love is, JJ. How could you possibly know?” You asked, still not looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“All I know is that every time I’m around you, I want to be holding you and my stomach gets all tied up in knots. That I miss you whenever you’re no around. That whenever I see you with another guy, I want to tear his fucking throat out. That it fucking breaks my heart when you cry. That I would burn down the entire world before I let anyone hurt you.” 

You finally looked up, your heart beating wildly in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, not now, not ever. You were supposed to just be friends. It was better that way. 

“What happens when those feelings go away, huh?” You asked, nose burning and eyes brimming with tears. “I say I love you back and we start dating and we get married and have kids and then what happens when you don’t have those feelings anymore and you wake up some day and you don’t love me anymore, what fucking then, JJ?” 

You sounded angrier than you felt. You felt terrified, like an animal trapped in a cage, the walls closing in tighter and tighter around you, suffocating you. 

“We’re not your parents, y/n.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they said the same exact thing when they were our age.” Bitterness laced your every word. Sure, maybe you had been talking about your own parents, but he didn’t have to actually mention them. It just made the sting all the more real. 

Your dad had up and left when you were 12, leaving you with a mother whose heart was broken beyond repair and a 4 year old sister to take care of. You hadn’t believed in love from that day on. And JJ knew this, so why was he throwing it on you now? Why was he putting you through this when he knew damn well what it meant to you? 

“You can’t,” you said, giving your head a shake and praying that the tears wouldn’t fall. “You can’t. Not me.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m fucked up, JJ.”

“Everybody’s fucked up.” 

“I’m especially fucked up.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” There was real anger in his voice, but not anger directed at you. He was angry that the world was so messed up that it had convinced you that you didn’t deserve to be loved. 

And it shook you to the core. 

“I’ve kept my damn mouth shut about this for so long, y/n.” His voice broke painfully. He looked exhausted. You wanted to cross the room and pull him into your arms and wipe the tears from his eyes because if he wasn’t saying the words he was saying now, that’s what you would have done. “Didn’t even tell the Pogues. I kept it to myself because I knew what it meant to you but you’ve gotta know because I can’t do this anymore.” 

“What about all those....all those girls from the parties?” You crossed your arms as your mouth ran dry, grasping for straws. JJ scowled, looking more hurt than ever. 

“They were nothing.” 

“Those girls aren’t nothing, JJ. They’re people.” 

“I meant they were nothing to me. They were just...distractions.” 

“From me?” You said the words like a breath, your stomach twisting as you did so. Because the more JJ spoke about what he was feeling, the more you recognized them as a mirror of your own. 

“Yeah. From you.” You felt yourself fall still again, but it wasn’t that frozen stillness from fear. It was a calm that washed over you and you didn’t know why. “Because every time I saw you sneaking off with one of those guys I just-” 

JJ’s words fell off as you took one small step toward him. As soon as that first step was taken, you couldn’t stop yourself from crossing the room until you were standing right in front of him, chest to chest. 

He looked down at his, his lips parted. Your eyes flitted from his down toward his mouth before venturing back up to meet his stare once again. 

“Maybe....” You paused, glancing down again. “Maybe we aren’t our parents.” 

JJ’s eyes were fixated on your lips, a breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew that, yet you weren’t sure you had the strength to break what was left of your walls. You wanted him to do it for you, but he wouldn’t want to push you any farther than he already had. 

Your stomach was already tangled into knots even before you stood on your toes. JJ’s eyes were closed even before you pressed your lips to his. Those knots detangled into butterflies and exploded throughout your bones. 

The kiss was a ghost of a thing. At least, it was at first. Because once the dam was breached, the water all came rushing out with a startling force. 

Your hands left your sides and found their place tangled in his hair, pulling him down closer to you. He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as the desire raged within him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He whispered, his eyes opening just a tad. You gave yourself one chance to breathe and second guess yourself. “Because once I have you, there’s no chance in hell I’m letting you go.” 

You pulled one of your hands out of his hair and rested it against his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before giving a short nod of your head. 

“This is what I want,” you told him. “I just want you.” 

That was all the permission that JJ needed. All of his hesitation was gone, vanished into thin air. Tucking his hand behind your neck, he put his lips right back onto yours with a fire that was just waiting to burst forth. 

You thought you had been control when you broke the dam, but JJ took no time in proving you wrong. With one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your hip, he pushed you back toward the wall. 

What little breath remained in your lungs was sucked away as your back hit the wall. Months of tension and deep rooted desire hit a boiling point as your lips found a rhythm with his. Your fingers left his hair to tug him closer by the collar of his shirt. Any space between you was too much. You needed his skin against yours, you needed to take his heat for your own. You needed him and you were no longer afraid to admit it, at least to yourself. 

JJ pinned you to the wall, his hips pressed up against yours. His hand shifted from behind your neck to the front, hanging loosely around the base of your neck just to keep you steady. His other hand found it’s way under the loose fabric of your shirt, kneading at your skin with his palm.  

You let out your first ungodly sound of the night, muffled only by JJ’s lips. You felt him smile so you pulled back. 

“Careful,” you murmured, eyes still closed. But JJ’s grin persisted even as he pressed butterfly kisses against your cheek, trailing past your jaw and finding rest against your neck. 

“Shit,” you breathed as his tongue grazed across your skin, his teeth pulling gently here and there. He started to work his hand farther up your shirt and you had to pressed your hands against the wall to keep yourself from falling. 

“All those other boys didn’t make you feel like this, did they?” JJ whispered against your skin. His breath was warm and sent ripples down your spine. You popped one eye open to glower at him. 

“Fuck you,” you breathed as he smiled against you. His hand at the base of your throat tightened ever so slightly and your glower deepened. 

“Was that a no?” 

“I don’t play that way, Maybank,” you ground out through your teeth. 

“Then how do you play?” 

You pushed him away from you and for a moment a look of hurt crossed his face. But when you grabbed hold of the bottom of your shirt, never breaking eye contact as you pulled it off and discarded it on the floor, a grin replaced that fear. You reached out for him, pulling him back in. 

Both of his hands went for your shoulders before tracing the curve of your body all the way down to the waistband of your shorts. You nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, you hands holding his head just where you wanted. 

“Damn, y/n.” There was that damn smirk still. You wondered what it would take to wipe it off his face. His hands worked at the zipper of your shorts, tugging on the hem before you even realized he had them unbuttoned. 

“You really don’t waste any time, do you?” You asked him. Instead of responding, he pressed a kiss against your neck. Part of you wished he would stay there again. But then he kissed your collarbone and then he was lowering him self slowly, pressing his lips to the skin beneath your breasts, then just below your bra. 

You were pretty sure no boy had ever done anything like this before. You weren’t ever one to take your time with them because, after all, they were just a poor replacement for who you really wanted. But the attention that JJ gave your body as he continued his trail of kisses down your stomach was enough to make your eyes roll toward the back of your head. 

He was on his knees in front of you, tantalizing, as he pulled your shorts down as slowly as he could. He kissed your thighs once they were exposed as he pulled the shorts the rest of the way down. You were going to simply step out of them when he put on hand on your calf and the other just under your knee. 

“What are you doing?” You asked with an almost nervous laugh. JJ looked up at you as he started to lift your leg. A smile pulled at his lips. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to have you,” he mused. “And I’m not wasting a second of it. 

He rested your foot against his shoulder and gave the side of your knee the smallest, most butterfly inducing kiss. You heaved out a breath and leaned your head back against the wall as JJ continued to kiss your inner thigh. His hands kept you steady. You had never felt more grounded. Your toes curled, fingers tensing. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, as if it was just a spoken thought. You lifted your head and looked down at him. 

“What?” 

He looked back up at you a look somewhere between concern and amusement. 

“You’re beautiful.”

You moved your leg off of his shoulder and joined him on your knees. For a reason you didn’t know, your eyes swam with tears. His smile was gone but there was something far deeper in his eyes that a smile couldn’t properly communicate in that moment. 

You took his hands in yours and pressed his bruised knuckles to your lips. When you met his eyes again, you gave a small shake of your head, the tears threatening to overflow. 

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” you whispered, trying to offer some kind of explanation for your strange actions. JJ looked taken aback. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, JJ, I’m serious. You’re the first person-” Your voice broke. 

“Is that why you didn’t believe me when I told you I loved you?” Your head fell and the tears you had been feeling started to fall from your eyes. He hooked his finger underneath your chin and moved your face to look back at his. “Hey, you’re beautiful, alright? And I’ll say it a million times until you believe me.” 

You nodded, sniffling as you tried to hide your embarrassing tears from him. He leaned forward and kissed both of you cheeks. You let out a small laugh as he pulled away. 

“Sorry to ruin the mood,” you said, still holding one of his hands. That look returned to JJ’s eyes, the hungry one, as he looked down at the clothes you were left in, or lack thereof. 

“Nothing’s ruined,” he said. “I’m still getting you in that bed.” 

You wiped away what was left of your tears and felt a smile of your own pull at your lips. 

“What are you waiting for then?” 

                                                                ***

Pope grumbled angrily as he climbed into the van, Kie sliding into the front seat. 

“I don’t see why they had to kick us out,” he said, plopping down into one of the seats. 

“I don’t think we were really kicked out, per say,” said John B up front with a slight smirk. “You were the last one in there, Kie, what happened exactly? One minute they’re screaming at each other and the next....” 

Kie shrugged, keeping her eyes fixed on the road as she started the car. 

“Guess they just reached their breaking point.” 

“I think that bed is going to reach it’s breaking point,” Pope huffed. “I mean, couldn’t they wait until they were alone to start going at each other?” 

Kie rolled her eyes and John B just laughed. 

“Give it until the morning. I’m sure they’ll pretend like it never happened,” John B said with a sigh. 

“Are you kidding?” Kie looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Those two have been waiting to tear each other’s clothes off for months.”

“Really?” Pope and John B both said at the same time. Kie laughed and looked back to the road. 

“You boys are so clueless.”

“Damn,” Pope breathed. “And they didn’t tell us?”

“He’s afraid of commitment and she’s got abandonment issues, of course they waited this long.” 

“Kie, when did you become a goddamn genius?” 

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” 

The van rattled down the road, the three friends laughing together. 

                                                           ***

JJ’s arms curled around your stomach, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He slept softly, breathing gently through his nose. Every now and again, he would mumble something, his lips grazing against your exposed skin. 

But you were wide awake. You ran your fingers aimlessly up and down his arms, relishing in the feeling of his skin still against yours. 

He hadn’t stopped telling you you were beautiful since he first said it. Every chance he got, the words would pass his lips. He probably said it more times than anything else, other than “shit” and “fuck”, which you loved to hear almost just as much. Almost. 

When he flopped down next to you, sweaty, breathless, and still grinning like an idiot, he wrapped his arms around you and said it one last time, whispering it into your ear before he fell asleep. 

And you believed him every time. 

If he had been any other boy, this was the time when you would have scurried out of bed, collected your clothes, and made a break for it. But you stayed. There was no where you would rather be than here, cradled in the arms of the boy who loved you. The boy that you loved. 

You moved slowly, carefully, turning until you faced him. JJ groaned quietly, shifting his head against the pillow, but he didn’t wake. You felt yourself smile again at the sight of him. That stupid grin was finally gone from his face. Now you found that you were missing it. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your voice quieter than the breeze that blew the curtain of the window above you. You tucked your head under his chin and he pulled you in tighter. A smile graced your lips. 

Even if he didn’t hear you, it was good to say aloud. Maybe now you could say it when he was awake. Maybe someday. Maybe not today, but someday. That thought was enough to sing you to sleep. 

JJ opened a single eye and looked down at you, unable to keep his smile at bay any longer. You had fallen asleep quickly, but he didn’t care. You didn’t need to know he heard you. He would deal with that in the morning. For now, he just let you sleep. 

#jj maybank #jj imagine #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank smut #is it really smut? #idk probably not #but its the closest i'm ever gonna get to #so enjoy it while it lasts i guess #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #request #outer banks request #anon

[samwrights]

I have a feeling we’re gonna start spiraling real hard into NSFW territory. Everyone here is aged up, and we ain’t afraid of the word cock on this blog. That being said, bust out your holy water and your vibrators and enjoy the semi-lengthy read!

Shinso;

There was nothing better than curling up on Sunday mornings with Toshi.

Even better on the days he felt like making breakfast for the two of you, but those were few and far between.

Not that you were complaining because when he was in the mood to be a doting partner, he was incredible.

Your personal favorite was having your head in lap while he absentmindedly played with your hair.

Today was not one of those days.

Rather than playing with your hair, his hands were gripping a PlayStation controller with zero intention of letting go.

Goddamn Final Fantasy just came out.

“Toshi, I’m hungry.”

“Go make breakfast then?”

Doesn’t even bat an eyelash. Sigh.

You wait patiently before making your move; you weren’t that much of a heathen that you’d interrupt your boyfriend in the midst of battle.

As soon as the screen cuts to dialogue, you’re on his lap and kissing him hard before your lips travel along his jaw just the way he likes it.

Intermittent biting with rough, open mouthed kisses.

All the while, you’re unabashedly grinding your hips into his, thankful to whatever higher power that exists above that he was only wearing boxers.

“Ohoh, so you’re that kind of hungry?”

“Only for you, Toshi.” Your mind goes blank before being filled with a hazy cloud and you’re now resting your head on his shoulder, unmoving.

Oh this fucking asshole just used his quirk on you!

“At least let me save my game first, kitten.” Is all he responds with, propping his chin on your shoulder to continue looking at the screen.

His goddamn hips are still grinding into while he does it too—cheeky mother fucker.

Todoroki;

Date nights with Shouto Todokori are every bit of a dream boat as you’d imagine.

Whether they were nights in or nights out, he always somehow managed to make them absolutely perfect.

However, nights in were your absolute favorite, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have to wait to get home before ravaging your boyfriend.

It was date night—the two of you were cuddled up on the couch with now empty boxes of takeout littering on your guys’ coffee table while watching some corny romcom on the television.

Full of food and happiness, you snuggle up to Shouto while he’s sprawled out on the couch, your head resting somewhere between his stomach and his chest.

Todo’s hands are absentmindedly playing with the hair at the nape of your neck and part of you is wondering if he’s doing it solely because he knows that it’s your weakness.

“Shouto...” you simper.

“Yes, baby?” He was definitely doing it because he knew it got to you. Confirmed it with the way you looked up at him, seeing list dripping from his pupils.

Without another exchange of words, you adjust yourself so that you’re in his lap, straddling his waist, arms loosely dangling off his shoulders.

The action is reciprocated, as he is cradling your back with his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Be patient, sweetie.” Is all he says before his eyes pretend to focus on the film.

“Don’t wanna,” you mumble against his collarbone, tentatively giving the skin a lick. Despite the rumble in his chest, Todo protests.

“I’m warning you, princess.” His voice is firm, and so is he, but you never were one for patience. You place open mouth kisses just below his ear, nibbling at the slightly loose skin because you know it’s going to drive him crazy.

“Sweetheart...” your tongue dances along the shell of his ear and he can clearly hear the broken breaths leaving your lips.

“Love you, Sho.” Your words are sweet, despite the salacious drip in them.

“I told you to be patient.” He growls, snapping one hand from your waist to gripping your chin. “Guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

Tamaki;

“Baaaabe!” You call out as soon as you enter the threshold of yours and Tamaki’s shared apartment.

“Living room, sweetheart.” He knew what that distressed call was.

Tamaki sets his book down on the coffee table in front of him as he hears your keys jingling while you take your shoes off before you throw your keys on the entryway table.

Immediately, you climb into your boyfriend’s lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Were you not in a bad mood, Tamaki would be a red-hot, spluttering mess. Low key he still kind of was, but he knew that in this moment, you just wanted comfort.

His arms encircle your waist, pulling you nearly flush against him. “Bad day?” You nod into his neck, letting the steady rhythm of his heart beat calm you down. “Wanna talk about it?”

How in the hell did you get so lucky?

But Tama feels you shake your head no, so he settles for just holding you until you feel better.

“You’re so sweet to me, Tama,” you mumble out into his neck and despite his skin muting the words, the sprig of praise sends goosebumps down his arms. “I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve you.”

Sweet little Suneater’s grip on your waist tightens, the words of praise going to straight to his cock. Mentally, he’s scolding himself because he should be focusing on comforting you.

But you feel him start to grow harder and your need for comfort is ebbing away, being replaced with the need to just feel him.

“Always so good to me, baby.” A groan rumbles in his throat, the vibrations moving against your tongue as you swipe the muscle slowly along a vein in his neck. “I love you so much, I should thank you for comforting me.”

You emphasize your statement by biting down on his neck before returning to lavish it with your tongue. You always did love leaving hickeys on him. “Thank you for taking care of me, Tama. Want me to return the favor?”

Tamaki’s more than thankful his hero costume hides his neck—it grants you the freedom to bruise every inch of his pale skin. But he can’t fucking take it anymore, and he needs to feel your lips on his.

“Love you,” is all he says before he smashes his lips onto yours, accentuating the statement with the forceful grind of his hardened cock over your clothed apex.

Bakugo;

“Babe, pay attention to me.”

Bakugo fucking hated when you were in this mood of feeling needy—needy to the point where you’d interrupt up while he’s doing homework.

“No, woman.”

“Pleeeeeease, Katsuki.”

“No, we have finals that we need to study for!” Yeah, fine. He was right about that.

But the only thing finals was gonna fuck was your GPA.

Knowing that your wonderful, and you say that wholeheartedly, boyfriend was going to stick to his word, you figure that desperate whores call for desperate measures.

That’s how the saying goes, right?

Regardless, you scoot yourself closer to Bakugo on the couch until your shoulders are touching, pestering him just enough to move away from the textbook and notebook was hunched over.

“The fuck did I just say?!” He snarls, looking at you fully.

“You’ve been so tense lately, baby. More than normal.” You say slowly, slithering into his lap so that you could straddle him.

Arms moving like a snake, you rest them on his broad shoulders, your hands gently grasping the cloth of the sofa.

“You need to relax,” the last syllable of your sentence leaves your lips salaciously before latching onto the blonde’s vein in his neck. “Just let me take care of you, babe.”

His crimson eyes shut briefly, forgetting all about organic chemistry for a moment and reeling into the feel of your teeth grazing his skin. “Fuck,” he grits out under his breaking resolve.

His hands grip at your hips, grinding them further into his rapidly hardening cock through his jeans. “That’s what I was trying to do.” You tease, nipping at his earlobe.

Your fingers work their way down the front of his thin muscle tee before they’re met with the tops of jeans—somehow calmly and frantically unbuttoning and unzipping them to give him some breathing room. “Still wanna study for finals?” Your face to face with Bakugo, your lips just out of his reach with your noses still touching.

He’s wearing a very displeased, disgruntled, snarl. “You aren’t even going to make it to the testing room when I’m done with you.”

Kaminari;

In hindsight, Denki should have known.

He should have known that, with the way you’d been so damn clingy while the two of you were out with your guys’ friends, you were plotting something.

With the way you refused to let go of him or the way you pressed long, slow, tender kisses along his jaw,

Denki Kaminari should have seen this coming.

Or maybe he did and he was more excited for the impending treatment than he let on.

“Fuck!” He hisses as you bite down on the flesh you have between your teeth at the base of his neck.

Currently, you have him pinned down on the couch with you straddling his waist and your hands gluing his wrists to the fabric.

Your tongue laves at the now swollen flesh in a futile attempt to ease the pain. He was definitely more excited for his punishment.

“Should have been a good boy while we were out, Denki~” your words are damning, thick with lust.

“I was!” He protests and, while this behavior wasn’t exactly left field for you, he knew there was an underlying issue fueling it.

“Uh uh,” you tut, moving from one collarbone to the other to give it the same treatment. He hisses again when your canines sink down—he knows you broke skin. “You told Jiro she was pretty.”

Denki has a love-hate relationship with your fragile ego and your insatiable envy. At the moment, he’s loving it almost as much as the way your plush lips trail kisses up his neck, biting as you go along.

A part of him wonders how he’s going to explain all of the fresh, angry, purple and red bruises at work tomorrow. Another part of him wants more.

“You belong to me, don’t you Denki?” You’re goading him with subtle touches of unbuttoning his shirt in addition to the hard bites and broken capillaries in his throat.

“Of course, baby.” It’s meant to come out as reassuring, but all that leaves his lips is broken whines.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing, sweetheart.” Despite your tone, his shirt is off now, giving you an entirely new canvas to mark up.

“I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Iida;

Oh, Tenya.

He was such a straight-laced good boy. It made teasing him that much more fun.

You’re sly and subtle that he never notices when you’re in that type of mood.

Or so you think.

You’re both just nonchalantly watching a movie together with his arm draped over the back of the couch over your shoulders.

He’s very textbook.

As the movie continues to play on, you start scooting closer and closer until you’re casually just sitting in his lap.

“What are you doing....” Iida knows something’s up now, but you’re just gonna play coy.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, adjusting yourself so that you’re straddling him with your arms around his neck before nestling your head into his chest. “Making myself comfortable.”

For a short while, it is rather comfortable, but you’ve got a different endgame in mind.

Your fingertips start to brush the back of his neck, fidgeting with his hair before they ghost over his neck and down his chest.

“Honey...” his voice is low and dangerous and rumbling with his rich timbre.

You ignore the literal choke that leaves his throat when your lips travel from the base of his neck to the spot where his jaw meets his earlobe.

“You’re being so good for me, Tenya.”

His hands are on your hips like a vice before he caves, nearly flinging both of you off the couch.

Thankfully, he’s got you cause you actually probably would have been hurt.

But he’s carrying you to your guys’ room now, all the while biting at his collarbones and telling him what a good boy he is. Definitely has a praise kink.

#samwrights #anon request #my hero academia headcanons #mha shinsou #mha #bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki shouto #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou imagine #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #denki x you #kaminari denki #tamaki amajiki #amajiki x reader #tenya iida #iida headcanons #iida tenya #iida x reader

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

You’re falling now. You’re swimming. (This is not harmless. You are not breathing.)

In a different universe where Dref survives Tiberius' attack in Burza Nyth. Everyone is having a hard time processing, hopefully this time they have eachother. 

Travis was having a bad day. That wasn’t too weird, considering they had just gotten out of Burza Nyth, Dref had been in a critical condition for weeks and they had only just managed to stop the Mariner. They all were having odd days: processing, repressing or whatever.

Still. Gable had known Travis for a long time, too long, and his bad days generally consisted of getting angrier and more venomous than normal.

Gable usually didn’t even notice, just got hurt and bit back, generally they left him too it, not willing to deal with him. Until they thought back on it; a day or even months later, realising this was Travis’ only coping mechanism. They added all the times they had hurt him in retaliation to the enormous pile of guilt they already carried, and kept going.

Travis being hurtful on purpose was at the very least familiar by now, almost comforting. But today Travis was silent, distant, only doing motions on auto pilot. Which was acutely distressing, even to the crew who didn’t know him like they did.

Gable might have been able to deal with just Travis, but Jonnit had the look of someone who hadn’t slept in a while, and a quiet nervous energy. Dref was still recovering from Tiberius’ attack and pushing himself to get back to work.

Gable might have been able to deal with all of it if they didn’t dream of Hildred’s fear after she had found out what they had done, if they didn’t feel like they had inexplicably failed everyone around them. If it didn’t feel like everything was falling apart and they were going to lose everyone. Again.

They were all sitting in Dref’s office. Dref was writing something, but Gable got the impression he was only writing for the pretence of having something to do.

Jonnit was sitting on his desk next to him, talking about small traditions he had as a child. Clearly he was trying really hard to cheer everyone up. Gable’s heart ached, he shouldn’t be responsible for holding them all together, and yet they knew his familiar chatter about what cake his mom would make him for his birthday was probably the only thing keeping them going.

Travis was sitting on a cabinet and not interrupting Jonnit at all. In fact, he seemed to be staring at a fixed point on the wall. Of course, he might just be bored of the conversation, but if this was the case then he usually just left.

They were all hanging on a small thread, teetering on the edge of something.

“Your mom sounds like she is the best, Jonnit,” Gable commented, hoping to join in lightening the mood.

They felt the awful pang of guilt as Jonnit started tearing up.

“Yeah,” he said, “She was.”

There was a deafening silence. Dref looked at Jonnit like he wanted to help, but didn’t know how.

Gable felt anger flare up in them, anger at the way the world always seemed so unjust to the people they loved. They were so acutely aware of how young Jonnit was, how he deserved everything to be nice and safe. And how they couldn’t give any of that to him.

They gathered their boy up in their arms, hoisting him onto the chair they were sitting in. Jonnit clung back, he was clearly crying now. Not quite sobbing, just like the tears were falling despite himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said, attempting to wipe his tears, but they just wouldn’t stop. “I’ve just been thinking about her lately, her and my dad and Zana, but at least I’ll see them again and she is just‒”

He choked on his own sob and Gable held him tighter, desperate.

“You d‒ on’t need to ap‒ apologize,” Dref said, hovering over them, unsure. “It is only l‒ logical you would f‒ feel this way.”

Travis was holding the side of the cabinet so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Still turned away from them.

“Travis?” Gable tried, tentatively.

Travis turned around, his eyes red and puffy, visibly shaking. “I am fine,” he snapped.

Dref flinched at the tone in his voice. Jonnit pressed his face into their chest.

It was too much, just too much. It felt like falling, or even worse, like drowning.

-

Travis fucking hated dissociation.

If there was something he was familiar with, it was feeling like a stranger in his own body. Distantly, he remembers years ago, when dissociation had been a welcome relief to not feel like he existed when his father had still been around.

The newer fear he had acquired around not being in control, combined with the fact that it always brought him back to his brilliant childhood, meant that now it just sent him into a panic, which in turn made the unreality worse.

The worst goddamned cycle he was trapped in.

He was aware he was crying, in the sense that logically, he knew he was crying, but he couldn’t feel the tears roll down his face. He saw them fall into his lap like he was looking through the eyes of another man.

In that same way he could see Gable looking at him worriedly, Dref was now pressed into their side, not quite hugging but holding their hand, clearly upset. Of course he’d gotten hurt, he should know by now that that’s the only thing Travis knows how to do. Get people hurt.

Travis couldn’t talk, or perhaps he could? Did he not want to? He only knew that trying more than simple sentences would make him cry more and he really didn’t want that. He wanted to leave so badly and he just couldn’t.

Gable was holding onto Dref and Jonnit, and they looked so lost, barely holding it together. Travis had to leave them. He would. But Jonnit had hit a nerve ‒ why did people always hit his nerves ‒ and all he could think of was his mother, weak and feeble in bed, and the sound of his father’s angry shouting.

Don’t leave me. William had said to her and then there was a river, and he was shouting louder and he couldn’t save her either.

He wanted his outbursts to be dramatic. It would make sense, screaming and ugly panic, but instead he stared into a corner and cried. He was trying so hard not to, but despite that he couldn’t stop it.

He felt like he was looking onto himself, like a spectator of his own life. How pathetic the picture was, with his friends he didn't deserve sitting across from him, not knowing what to do and him weeping, helpless, like it had always been.

It was brilliant really fucking brilliant

‒

Jonnit was known for being optimistic, but even he didn’t really know what to do with the current situation.

They had all been worried about Dref for weeks now. He’d finally woken up just a little after they took off from Burza Nyth, but the lack of sleep and constant stress had worn on all of them.

Partially because of that, probably, the anniversary of his mother’s death had hit him harder than it had in years. Usually he would have Zana and his dad, and they would cook her favorite food and share memories, like a bittersweet celebration. In hindsight, talking about it to someone, anyone, might have helped, but he’d known everyone was already feeling pretty bad. No need to saddle them with his feelings too.

It felt weird to even be upset about it, with everything that had happened, with the Mariner lurking and Dref being hunted by whatever the cutting stone was. But as much as he loved all his friends, he missed her, and he missed his family and his home.

Everyone had been quietly feeling awful, and it just so happened that they all had reached their breaking point now.

Gable was holding onto him like he might disappear, or run away. Dref still looked pale and sickly, now with added helplessness. Travis looked worse than Jonnit had even seen him, and he had seen Travis almost bleed to death. He was painfully aware of how small he was, how even with all his power, this is something he couldn’t solve. His friends had gone through so much pain he didn’t understand, and he so desperately wanted to help them.

But really, he was still just a child, and he too had been swallowed in the sea of problems, just like everyone else had. So he just clung to Gable, and then Dref took one of his hands, and they held each other, like a liferaft in a flood.

-

Dref was trying really hard to do breathing exercises. He was painfully aware of everyone's present distress, which is precisely why he had to calm himself down first. It was difficult, with two shaking hands in his hands and Travis’ awful sobbing in the background, with Tiberius' voice lingering, with the sharp pain still in his body.

Always thinking you can help everyone, Alisdair.

Another deep breath, hold it, exhale. Exercises like this helped, but it always felt like giving up when he needed them again.

Pathetic.

No. He was stronger than the ingrained memories and thoughts. His friends needed him.

He closed his eyes, felt the pressure of everything, adjusted his grip on the hands he was holding and took yet another deep breath. It was like fighting against a strong current, but a few more breaths and he felt more in control.

He let go of Gable and Jonnit, giving them a shaky but reassuring smile. They were both still wrecked, but it was okay, he needed to maintain his calm.

He went over to Travis.

“T‒  ravis,” he said, very carefully putting a hand on Travis’ hand, “C ‒ an you h ‒ h ear me?”

Travis’ eyes focused on him, he nodded.

“C ‒ can I help?”

He shrugged and shook his head. I don’t know.

Gently, Dref coaxed him to stop hurting himself by holding on so tightly, at least, and helped him off the cabinet. Then, he started to push his desk to one side. Jonnit and Gable quickly caught on and stood up silently to help him move it. He had a couple of blankets lying around in the office. They had been for if he fell asleep working late, and now they were to keep him warm as he recuperated.

Together they haphazardly laid them out, and in a few moments they had something that vaguely resembled a nest. Gable and Jonnit flopped onto it, Jonnit still safe in their lap, and Dref sat close next to Gable. He didn’t like tight embraces, so instead he held their hand.

Travis placed himself at the other side of them. Gable cautiously put one of their arms around him. He looked as limp as a rag doll, but he leaned into the touch a little, and didn’t seem quite so acutely distressed. Jonnit started humming softly, Dref rocked a little, and slowly they all calmed down together.

Gable was the first to break the precious silence.

“Thank you,” they said to Dref.

“Yeah,” Jonnit said. He looked tired but otherwise alright. “We really needed someone to pull us out of this one.”

“A‒ anytime,” Dref said, and he smiled, knowing they could get through anything, together.

Gable turned to Travis. “How are you holding up?”

Travis was still tucked into their side, looking mostly like an annoyed cat.

“I will say I have seen better days,” he said, “But overall this still doesn’t make the top ten worst days, so.” He shrugged.

The rest of them shared a look, but they all knew this was probably as close as Travis would ever get to admitting he was feeling something.

“We probably should talk about....well you know, stuff,” Jonnit said, gesturing vaguely. “That's what people always say, right?”

Gable actively winced, Travis groaned and Dref also felt a familiar twinge of apprehension.

Maybe they could all use some professional help. Dref filed that away as an idea for later.

-

They all went around and talked. Most of them were still clearly skirting around some topics, but that was okay. They were trying at least.

Travis barely said anything, but he still felt better hearing for everyone's voices, feeling the familiar weight of Gable around him. He looked around at them all. He could feel how much he cared about these people in his chest, and he decided not to pay attention to how afraid that made him. At least, not today. And he would never admit it, especially not to Gable.

-

Jonnit felt lighter after talking, even if he couldn’t fully verbalize his feelings about everything. He could only vaguely explain the feeling of duty, his desire to fix everything.

“T‒ that should n‒ not be your r‒ responsibility, Jonnit.”

Gable added quickly, “We are here to help you. We’re in this together.”

And at that he cried again, but this time it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

-

Gable knew there was nothing that could fix the guilt they had carried around for so many years in one single afternoon. They couldn’t even bear to talk about Hildred or what she had found out, not yet.

But it was alright, even then, because this time it felt like there was a way out of this downward spiral. Out of the darkness. There were at least these three people to help them, and this time, Gable was going to let them.

They laid down their head, and for the first time in ages they didn’t feel like they were running. They were home. They let themselves believe, hope, that maybe everything was going to be okay. Maybe they all deserved this peace, with each other.

Even if the universe didn’t let them have it, they were ready to fight tooth and nail for it, and in the determined faces of the others, Gable could see that they were too.

-

Dref had never really known what it was like to be part of a loving family. The lingering marks of his parents, Tiberius, and Olivia were still in his mind and his body both, and it often threatened to overwhelm him. But here was Gable's steady hand to anchor him, and Jonnit’s excited chatter to ground him, and even Travis’ annoying presence to distract him.

He looked at all of them, as they dissolved into a debate about something inconsequential, still tangled up onto each other, and he smiled to himself.

They were his family now, the one Alisdair Youngblood had always dreamed about on particularly lonely nights. He caught Travis’ similar wistful look, before he immediately looked away. But still, Dref could see the smile on his lips.

This family was small, broken and complicated.

But it was his, and that was all that mattered.

#campaign podcast #skyjacks #travis matagot #gable skyjacks #jonnit kessler #dref wormwood #my writing #special thanks to the uwuru for fueling my writing skills dafjfjkhla

[imaginingsoftly]

Wedding Date Pt. 2 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, asshole exes

A/N: Hey guys! I know I said these installments were going to come out on Thursdays, but I feel like my fellow Americans currently losing their shit could use a distraction. Remember that it’s out of our hands at the moment, and you deserve to take a break from the news coverage. Breathe. We’ll get through this. I love you all.

Tyler hadn’t asked any questions about Melissa’s sudden disappearance from the brunch after she woke up grumpy and disoriented before the rehearsal dinner, and she appreciated the hell out of him for it. Instead, he’d brewed her some coffee and talked about his dogs and life in Dallas. Somehow he could tell that she needed some time to not think about anything significant, and he’d given that time to her like it was nothing. 

Attending the rehearsal on his arm was almost fun, and he helped get her back to the suite early. Most of the group probably thought they were breaking off to go hook up, but that was fine as long as Melissa could get into her bed faster. He’d walked her all the way to her bedroom, despite her laughter that she could walk across the living space by herself, and she’d smiled that night as she fell back to sleep. 

Now they were getting ready for their respective roles in the wedding, Tyler as a guest/ wrangler of the middle-aged relatives, Melissa as the Maid-of-Honor. Tyler grinned appreciatively as Melissa handed him a cup of freshly-brewed coffee, and she turned back to the french press to make herself a cup when her phone began to ring. It was probably Kirsten freaking out about something, even though the wedding was a good 8 hours away. “Tyler, could you get that for me?” He could handle his cousin just as well as she would have, and hearing Tyler answer Melissa’s phone might put Kirsten in a good mood. 

“Hello?” Tyler’s voice, gravelly from sleep, sent a shiver up Melissa’s spine. Hearing that first thing in the morning was something she would be interested in getting used to. She snuck a glance over at Tyler to see him already looking at her, smirking like he knew what was going through her head. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The familiar voice, dripping in attitude and disgust, sent another sort of shiver down Melissa’s spine. Her ex, and not the hipster beer guy. 

“What the hell do you want, Liam?” Tyler looked at Melissa confusedly as she spoke, and she shook her head. Later, she tried to tell him with her eyes. He understood, and Melissa took the outstretched phone. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a second Melissa thought that maybe Liam had hung up. “I can’t believe you’re hooking up with someone else. This won’t look good to my parents, Melissa. It’s time to come home. Stop throwing fits.” Tyler threw a sharp look at her, like he actually believed what Liam was saying, and Melissa had enough. 

“I am not your goddamn girlfriend, Liam, so stop acting like I am.” He tried to interrupt her, like he always did, but she cut him off. “No. I’m not fucking finished. I love my job, I love my friends, and I love my freedom. I’m not interested in being some rich fucker’s trophy wife and I’m definitely not interested in being yours. Leave me the fuck alone before I get a restraining order.” She hung up before he could get another word in, throwing her phone on the counter in anger. “Motherfucker!” 

The timer for the french press went off, and Melissa prepped her coffee with jerky, angry movements. She could sense Tyler staring at her from his seat on the counter, but she ignored him as she continued to mutter curses under her breath. She should have blocked his number a long time ago, but she didn’t trust him not to just get a new one in order to reach out to her. At least this way she had proof of his continued calls and texts in one spot. 

Tyler’s voice broke through Melissa’s cloud of anger, and she actually jumped a little bit at the sound of his voice. “Bad breakup?” Melissa scoffed. He had no idea. “Well,” Tyler said with a bit of a laugh in his voice, “I can tell you one thing.” He waited until she turned to face him, an eyebrow raised, before he continued. “I’d be honored to have you as my trophy wife.” No he did not. Melissa gaped at him, more shocked he had made a joke about the conversation than about the actual comment. 

She didn’t really think, she just reacted. Tyler laughed as Melissa’s coffee spoon came flying in his direction, and he caught the utensil with ease. Her heart felt light, lighter than it usually did after phone calls from Liam, and Melissa found herself smiling back. “Hipster beer guy wasn’t my most recent ex. He was actually a guy from college, so a while ago.” Tyler nodded, and she noticed that he leaned forward like he was interested in the story she was about to tell. “I dated Liam for about 6 months last year. We met at a dinner for the university that I work at, some charity thing where the donors get to come and make sure we know that they pay our salaries.” Tyler cringed, and Melissa was sure he at least kind of understood where she was coming from. 

“Liam didn’t seem like the other donors. He’d gone to the dinner in place of his parents, and we talked for a couple of hours. He seemed sweet.” She didn’t see the red flags that she normally would have, mostly because he looked so friendly. Apparently being raised by rich and heartless parents taught you some pretty impressive false empathy skills. She wasn’t wholly convinced he actually felt empathy at all, actually. “We started dating, and it just felt easy. We were both so busy that we hardly saw each other, and I told myself I liked that. I realized later that I didn’t like the distance from a partner, I just liked the distance from him.”

“One night like a week before we hit the 6 month mark Liam invited me to dinner with his parents. I hadn’t met them yet, because apparently they were super busy running their empire, so I was pretty nervous. Liam is a pretty driven guy, and I had assumed he got it from his parents. The dinner went wrong from the beginning.” Melissa paused as Tyler patted the space on the counter next to him. She hopped up gratefully, and he squeezed the shoulder closest to him. 

“Just wanted you to be comfy. I have a feeling this next part is going to be a doozy.” 

Melissa laughed at Tyler’s choice of phrasing, though she nodded because he was correct. It was a doozy for sure. “You have no idea. So we get there, and I’m immediately othered when everyone shows up in cocktail dresses and suits and I’m over there in my teaching pants and a blazer. His mother looked like she had just sucked on a lemon when I walked into the room, and she glared down at my hand when I introduced myself like I was going to give her some kind of disease.” That wasn’t even half of it. She’d also made some snide comments under her breath about where the clothing had come from, though Tyler didn’t really need to hear that detail. 

“We finally sat down for dinner after some of the most uncomfortable cocktail conversation I’ve ever had, and then I make a giant mistake. I mention my job.” Tyler reacts perfectly, throwing a hand over his heart and fake gasping. Melissa chuckled a bit. “Yeah, exactly. So his mom gets this horrified look on her face, and turns to Liam and says, ‘she will not be working once you’re engaged, correct?’ I tried to respectfully state that I love my job, and I planned on working for the foreseeable future, but she wouldn’t take that for an answer. She kept insisting that I couldn’t work if we were going to be together, and Liam wouldn’t back me up. At one point he turned to me and said, ‘you know, I make more in a day than you do in an entire month. I can take care of you.’”

Tyler’s face looked disgusted for her, and Melissa felt a twinge of satisfaction that at least he was on her side. “I lost my damn mind. I stood up from the table and said that if the expectation was that I would be a brainless trophy wife with no ambition or intelligence then I was uninterested in continuing our relationship, and I stormed out. I’ve been trying to get Liam to realize that no means no ever since.” Melissa downed the rest of her coffee, suddenly in need of at least three more cups. 

She was halfway through making a second cup when Tyler responded again. “Isn’t one of your areas of expertise gender and stuff?” Melissa whipped around, surprised he had remembered. She nodded, and Tyler let out a scoff. “So they were pushing some idea from the 50s on you when your area of study is literally everything against that?” Melissa laughed. At least someone else understood the irony there. 

A knock sounded on the door to the suite before Melissa could respond. Tyler jumped off the counter before she could move to the door, and she admired the view from behind as he walked away from her. “Morning, cousin!” Kirsten flew through the door, sliding across the room and into Melissa’s arms with a laugh. “I’m getting married today!” The pair laughed, and Melissa hugged her friend close as she felt some tears prick her eyes. They’d been through a lot together since their days as college roommates, and today felt almost surreal. 

Kirsten pulled back with a slight frown. “Why do you look like you want to punch something?” Melissa tried to school her face into one of confusion, but her friend knew her too well for that. “Don’t bullshit me. Why the hell do you look so pissed?” 

She didn’t get a chance to make something up. “Liam called her.” Melissa turned to glare at Tyler from where he was sitting on the counter again. “He was an ass, but she handled him really well. It was kinda hot actually.” He winked at Melissa, and she flushed bright red. He had that effect on her, and it was kind of aggravating. 

“He still seems to think we’re still dating. I told him a restraining order was in the cards if he didn’t kindly fuck off.” Kirsten held up a hand for a high five, and Melissa slapped it gratefully. She had stayed in Kirsten’s guest bedroom for almost a month after that breakup because Liam kept showing up at her apartment. He stayed away from the house because John was a hell of a lot bigger than him, and John and Kirsten had been lifesavers as she tried to get over their relationship ending. 

Kirsten looped an arm through Melissa’s and began pulling her out the door, despite the fact that the latter girl was barefoot. Melissa managed to snag a pair of flip flops on their way out, though she couldn’t get them on her feet. “Ty I’m stealing your girl for a bestie breakfast, try not to miss her too much!” Melissa stiffened at her words. Maybe they’d been acting too well. She looked over her shoulder to mouth an apology at Tyler, her face bright red, only to find him smirking in her direction already. They were still staring each other down when the door slammed shut behind her. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Lissy.” 

She couldn’t keep pretending like this. “Kirs, it’s not like that.” If she wasn’t careful, Kirsten would be planning her and Tyler’s wedding by the time the night was over. Kirsten meant well, she really did, but sometimes she really just needed to chill out. “We get along really well. We’ve had a lot of time to talk, and it’s been fun. That’s all.” It was obvious that Kirsten disagreed, but she relented as they reached the patio where the brunch had been held the day prior. 

The tables were no longer set up to make one giant table, like they had been the night before. Instead it was an open area where several groups were eating, none part of the wedding party. Kirsten pulled Melissa over to a table set up for two in one corner of the patio. It was next to the vine and flower-covered wall she’d noticed the day before, and she leaned in slightly to sniff at the flowers brightening the space. 

“So,” Kirsten said with an air of mischief, “you and my cousin.” Melissa opened her mouth to protest again, but her friend cut her off. “Uh-uh. Nope. I saw the looks he was giving you, and you turned bright red every time you two made eye contact.” She was right, and they both knew it. Kirsten looked smug when Melissa didn’t try to disagree. “Listen. You’re moving to Dallas in a month. Why not hook up with him? See if he’s worth keeping around, and then have some fun. You don’t have to do the whole relationship thing babe, and you deserve to have someone appreciate your body.” 

A server came to take their order, and Melissa gratefully ordered another cup of coffee and some pancakes. “I think you’re reading it all wrong, Kirs. He’s just being nice.” The looks that he kept giving her, full of heat and interest, said otherwise, but there was no way he was really interested in her outside of a hookup. Although, would that really be so bad? Kirsten scoffed at her statement, and Melissa jumped in before she could say anything. “I don’t know if I really want to hook up with anyone this weekend, Kirs. If it happens it happens, but I’m not going to push it.” 

Her friend shrugged, though her face said she completely disagreed. “Well if you aren’t going to let me find someone to match you with, at least tell me you found a place in Dallas.” Their food arrived, and Melissa took a happy bite of her pancakes. They smelled heavenly, and tasted even better. “You were going to buy a house, right?”

Melissa nodded. “Originally I had planned on a house, maybe just outside the city, but I fell in love with this townhouse right off of Main Street. It has three bedrooms, so right around the size I wanted, and there’s so much natural light. Plus, there’s a rooftop deck with a beautiful view of the city.” This place was going to be her new investment. She was fortunate enough to have gotten a lot of scholarships and grants to do her schooling with, and professorial pay allowed her to pay off those loans rather quickly. That meant that she could start saving for a down payment on her own place and a new start in Dallas. 

She took another bite of her pancakes while Kirsten contemplated what she was saying. “I’m really happy for you, Lissy. You deserve this.” They grinned at each other, and then Kristen broke down into giggles. “Look at us! You’re a badass in your field that got job offers from like half the universities in the country, and I’m marrying my soulmate. We’re killing this whole life thing.” Melissa chuckled as she nodded at her friend’s words. 

“It wasn’t half of the universities in the country, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Kirsten waved a hand in a ‘whatever’ kind of way, and conversation moved to people-watching and bets over who would leave with whom tonight or how long it would take for John to tear up.

#tyler seguin imagine #wedding date ml #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

[365days365movies]

February 24, 2021: Annie Hall (1977) (Part 1)

Well...Woody Allen.

I, uh...OK, look, I could get into the whole Woody Allen thing, but INSTEAD of me doing that, I’ll just say this: look into it. Because there is a LOT on this subject, and it’s controversial as HELL. At the end of the day, I’ll recommend this upcoming series on HBO, and just recommend that you look into it.

Because, uh...yeah, it’s not great. That’s all I’m gonna say, because I need to educate myself on it more as well. Instead, let’s talk for a few seconds about divorcing the art from the artist. But ONLY for a few seconds.

I understand why some of you might be surprised I’m doing this one. Because, again...Woody Allen. But, yeah, I always try to do my best to divorce the art from the artist. Because some people suck, but they still make nice things, or at the very least, things that should be open to interpretation and appreciation.

“Superfreak” is a classic song of 1981, and everybody’s heard at least some of it, but Rick James fuckin’ kidnapped two women and kept them in his basement, WHERE HE TORTURED THEM. Edgar Degas made beautiful paintings of ballet dancers, and was also A MASSIVE ANTI-SEMITE. And before he was (RIGHTFULLY AND JUSTIFIABLY) outed as a roofie-ing piece-o-shit...I grew up with - and genuinely enjoyed - this guy’s comedy.

And you can judge me for this, but...I still think his stand-up was and is genuinely funny, and I still appreciate the cultural impact that The Cosby Show had on society’s perception of African-American families, divorced from the stereotype of the ghetto. Fact of the matter is, works themselves deserve to be separated from the artist who made them. That’s my philosophy, and I’m sticking with it Entirely fine to disagree with me, by the way, I get it.

But in that spirit, I’m watching Annie Hall, despite its creators likely transgressions. After all, this is technically his magnum opus, and it’s a good look into the man himself. And so, with that in mind: Annie Hall! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) is talking directly to us about his outlook on life, and his view on the potential future. He tells half of a joke, then an amusing anecdote, and a bit more until telling us that he’s broke up with Annie, and he’s still thinking about it, trying to figure out exactly where things went wrong. He goes back to the beginning, which is punctuated with flashbacks.

He grew up in Brooklyn in World War II, and a young Alvy (Jonathan Munk) is with his mother (Joan Newman) at the doctor’s. He’s depressed after learning that the universe will one day end after a period of expansion, and is having his first real existential crisis. I had mine around the same age, actually, went I learned that the Earth will one day get swallowed by the sun. And THEN came the realization that I’d be dead by that point. AND THEN came the realization that I’d die one day, and that was a WHOLE NEW crisis to...anyway.

He grew up under the Coney Island rollercoaster according to him (although his analyst says that he exaggerates), and that’s what he blames for his “nervous personality. He’s also got an active imagination, often blurring fantasy and reality. His Dad ran the bumper cars on Coney Island (a place that I’ve never been, but desperately want to go).

He continues on talking about his former schoolmates, and not really that well. While in class, young Alvy kisses a...little girl...ahem. And then, when reprimanded by the teacher, current Alvy notes that he was always...like that...and he also says this to the little girl, and they talk about Freud’s latency period, and Alvy said he never...had...one...that’s uh...that’s fuckin’ SOMETHING, now isn’t it?

OK, well, shoving that forcefully aside as hard as I can, Alvy wonders aloud on where his classmates now, and one of them says this:

This also involves a little girl saying she’s “into leather,” which is...awkward as FUCK, but WE’RE GONNA MOVE THE FUCK ON. Alvy recounts his paranoia, and was so even after he became a famous comedian (which we say after a VERY good joke about qualifying for the army as a hostage). He speaks to a friend, Rob (Tony Roberts) about potential anti-Semitism from a person in a passersby meeting, then heads to meet Annie.

Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) arrives at a movie theater, late and in a bad mood. The two are late to their intended film, argue briefly, then head to another film that they’ve already seen, The Sorrow and the Pity. In line, they’re in front of a man loudly soliloquizing on film, much to Alvy’s annoyance.

Annie and Alvy continue to argue a bit, while Alvy openly berates the casual film critic. In the middle, he talks to the audience about it, only to be followed by the crtiic himself, who also acknowledges the audience! Huh! Anyway, he’s a professor at Columbia, and starts continuing his line speech, this time on the work of Marshall McLuhan, one of the most important early media theorists ever. And then, Alvy brings out Marshall McLuhan (Marshall McLuhan) to debate him on it, only for Alvy to turn to the audience and wish aloud that life could really be like this!

I’m beginning to understand why people like this film. It’s metacontextual before metacontextuality was really a thing in film. It’s a fourth-wall breaking movie in some fantastic ways. But will it still hold its muster after breaking the fourth wall’s become so commonplace? we’ll see, I guess.

After a showing of the film, the two return home, and Alvy tries to initiate sex. But Annie’s not really into it at the moment, and Alvy complains that they used to have sex all the time, and it’s been a while since. So, I guess that retroactively awkward scene at the school was meant to foreshadow Alvy’s high libido, that will probably cause some conflict in the film. Anyway, Annie notes that Alvy once went through something similar with Allison, his first wife. Who’s Allison? Flashback!

Allison Portchnik (Carol Kane) is a graduate student in political science, working for a campaign that Alvy’s about to perform for. He’s nervous, as he’s going on after another comedian. She comforts him by saying that she thought he was cute, and he does well. But we flash-forward to a night after they’re married, shortly after the death of JFK, which Alvy’s obsessing over, entertaining various conspiracy theories.

However, Allison rightly points out that his obsession is simply a way for him to avoid having sex with her, which mirrors the present-day situation him him and Annie. Flash forward TO Alvy and Annie, and there are just lobsters...everywhere, on the floor in their kitchen. After that commotion, they talk about Annie’s past romances.

And by talk about, I mean they LITERALLY WALK THROUGH her memories. And I gotta say...I fuckin’ love this method of storytelling. One of her previous boyfriends is an actor (John Glover), and his over-dramatic prose sickens Alvy. We see a second marriage of Alvy’s to New Yorker writer Robin (Janet Margolin), who’s dragged him to a stuffy high society party of intellectuals that he has no interest in going to. Same her, Alvy. I bet the caviar’s canned.

He tries to initiate sex with her - in the middle of the party, mind you - and she turns him down. later, when they get to it in their apartment, she’s unable to, uh...reach satisfaction. From there, we flash-forward after that marriage ends to a tennis match with Rob, where he meets one of his mutual friends: Annie Hall.

And for the record, Annie’s pretty obviously got a crush on him, and she’s adorable as fuck. Also, that outfit, real talk...that outfit rules. She offers to give Alvy a list, during which he’s quite worried about her driving, but the two still get along well enough. Annie’s an amateur photographer, during a time period where photography is considered a relatively new art form. The two go to her apartment, and share familial anecdotes and personal stories about themselves. And as they talk, we also see a set of subtitles on top of each of them that betray their inner feelings and thoughts.

I do genuinely like the stylings of the movie, goddamn. This conversation leads to Alvy asking her out on a date, although they end up scheduling it after Annie auditions at a nightclub as a singer. And while it doesn’t go great, Alvy tells her she was fantastic, and they share a kiss before they head to dinner. They head to her place afterwards, and we cut to later that night, post-coitus.

And then, we get a flash-forward back to the next day, where the two are at a bookstore, and Alvy speaks on his personal philosophy of life.

I'm obsessed with uh, with death, I think. Big - big subject with me, yeah. I have a very pessimistic view of life. You should know this about me if we're gonna go out. You know, I - I feel that life is - is divided up into the horrible and the miserable. Those are the two categories, you know. The - the horrible would be like, um, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. You know, and the miserable is everyone else. That's - that's - so - so - when you go through life - you should be thankful that you're miserable because you're very lucky to be miserable.

Iiiiinteresting.

Shortly into their relationship, they admit they’re in love (or “lurve”, as Alvy says). She moves in with Alvy, which he initially isn’t the biggest fan of, having been burned in two previous marriages And already, their relationship is showing a few bumps. Alvy’s also always trying to push her to take college classes, while she uses mariuana whenever they have sex, which Alvy doesn’t agree with.

But as they have sex one night, without the marijuana at Alvy’s urging, Annie’s mind wanders - LITERALLY.

This film...this film has a VERY unique style of visual storytelling, and I am HERE for it! Seriously, I genuinely love this method of storytelling and comedy, it’s extremely engaging to me.

Soon enough, Alvy gets an interview to write for a talk show host, which he ABSOLUTELY despises. But in doing so, he decides to go into stand-up for himself, and is actually quite successful at it! But before we get to that, we’re at the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

#annie hall #woody allen #diane keaton #tony roberts #carol kane #paul simon #shelley duvall #christopher walken #romance february #romance movie #romcom #romantic comedy #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year

[c-c-cherry]

Things I think about when writing

Momther Cherry is currently fic-writing! I’m here as your designated parental figure to share with you some shit that I remind myself whenever I’m stuck!

 I know some of y’all need to hear this. Yes, even you in the back. I know you’re forgetting at least ONE of these things right now.

-Your time will come. I know it seems hard when people post stuff and you’re scrolling through their comment section and see all this praise and love and then you realize that—shit— you haven’t posted in a week and your other stuff isn’t currently being loved as much in this very moment. We all do it. I do it all the time without thinking. Sometimes it can spark something that makes us want to do better, but sometimes it just makes us feel bitter and then we feel guilty for feeling bitter about it. Try to love what other people create without comparing it to your own. Trust me when I say that if you learn to love big, you’ll receive it back when the time comes. 

-Not everything will work out as you want it. Sometimes posts flop. Sometimes there aren’t as many likes on it as there should be or as you want there to be. That’s fine. :) Let it go. You might feel discouraged because of how much work you put into it, but sometimes it just happens. Don’t let that stop you from doing what you love.

-Comments and kudos are not your only worth. Please don’t rate your self-worth based on others’ approval. You are your skills and passions are worth so much more than that. Trust me when I say that all of that stuff feels great. It feels amazing when people gratify your work, but don’t do it specifically for that. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, if you rely on approval and praise as your only fuel for creativity, you’ll fall hard once you hear an ounce of doubt or negativity.

-Think about what you want. I find myself staring at a blank doc for days because I keep overthinking everything I write. Would they like it? Does that sound too self-indulgent? Will anyone read it? Would this get me more attention over this? Channeling other suggestions and criticism into your work is a great thing to do, but in the end, the writing will always flow better if you actually want to write it. I’ve had to completely drop entire prompts before because of this issue, but I feel like its worth it in the end if I’m actually enjoying the writing process rather than catering specifically to other people’s wants! :)

-Don’t treat it like something academic. Are you defending your thesis statement? No, you’re writing a hurt/comfort fan fiction (or whatever the hell you’re writing currently). Before I post something, there’s always the fear in the back of my mind that someone is going to comment some long, judgemental paragraph on “what could be approved” in my writing. I can’t exactly say that this hasn’t happened before (because it probably definitely has lol) but sometimes I’ve just gotta step back and tell myself that this isn’t meant to be harshly judged, its meant to be read. Most people who read it will have nice things to say about it because that’s the purpose of reading and writing fics!

-There’s no race and no competition. Unless of course you’re participating in a challenge with a time limit, you don’t have to rush your stuff in worry that people will be angry if you don’t post or update. They’ll be happier in the end if you post something that you worked harder on or wrote when you were in the mood or mindset to do so. You don’t have to post just because everyone’s posting! There’s no comparing works and there’s no rush to please people!

-Taking a break is good. It’s inhuman to not get burnt out once in awhile. Take advantage of it and try doing something else until you want to write again. I always work on headcanons or watch ✨Gordon Ramsay✨ whenever I don’t wanna write. Try not to feel miserable about not constantly making content! Everyone needs a break.

-Negativity?? Never heard of her. I’m actually very lucky not to get a lot of negative comments on my stuff. Most of it are people who are angry/disappointed on how I ended The Storm or want me to write a sequel where certain characters get what they deserve. If you do get something inherently mean or rude, try not to let it get to you. Most of the time, its for no  reason at all and the commenter is insecure. Maybe they’re just bitter??👀 Mmmm??👀👀👀 *cough cough see my very first jot*

God,,,y’all,,,this last one is the most important and literally goes for everything you’ll ever do:

-TAKE GODDAMN CARE OF YOURSELF!!!!!! Because of quarantine, I used to just—forget to eat all day because I was so sucked up in the writing void. I’d go to sleep at 6am, wake up at 2 or 3pm and wouldn’t eat anything until around 8 or 9pm because of schoolwork, write until it was 6am again and repeat. Yes, I updated a lot. Was it worth it?? Uhhhhhhh,,,,no??? I didn't do ANYTHING but write. People were happy for updates, sure, but if they knew that my dumbass was fucking myself over like that?? I get asks all the time being like “DRINK WATER SLEEP EAT PLEASE” and I’m always like “how the hell do they always know??”

Take care of yourselves first or else I’m gonna break into your home and make you drink water and eat chicken nuggets or like,,,vegan nuggets (even you vegans can’t escape my grasp)

Writing should be a positive or freeing experience! Whether its venting or creativity or any kind of expression, its very easy to get sucked up into a certain mindset that can negatively affect your process or inspiration. FEAR NOT, CHILDREN! If you try to consider the things I’ve told you while staring at that empty doc, just know that I’ll probably be doing the exact same thing right after I post this. 

Happy fic-reading/writing!! <3

#jjba #fandoms #writing #writing advice #Cherry's advice that no one asked for #self care #fanfic #fanfiction #writing help #advice #ao3 #tumblr #positivity #you can tell im procrastinating #because I just wrote this fuckin thing instead of writing my fic lol

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #371

“some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses”

What is one song you feel as though you sing particularly well, if any? Probably none, lol. What was the last lengthy task you completed? I love these unique questions I've had lately, but damn, are a lot of my answers "I don't know," lol. What type of photography do you enjoy looking at? Do you take any photos yourself, and if so, what types of things do you prefer to photograph? I love floral and wildlife photography. Landscapes, too, and I have a great fondness for boudoir for reasons I've mentioned in previous surveys. I like taking nature pictures, mainly. Have you ever gone out for the Black Friday shopping rush? Did you enjoy it, or not so much? Or, what’s the busiest shopping day you’ve ever experienced? Hell no, that's a hard pass. I'm sure the busiest shopping experience I've had was like at the mall or something around Christmas, idk. Do you enjoy reading diaries or stories you wrote from when you were younger, or does it embarrass you? If you’ve kept them, was there a particular reason for hanging on to them so long? NO. I DON'T. BECAUSE I CRINGE INTO ANOTHER DIMENSION. I keep a lot of it for memory's sake, but goddamn, is it always embarrassing. What would you say was your first true hobby? What about your most recently developed one? Um... the first thing I really remember is video games. I played Spyro like, a LOT, along with other childhood games. I was just really into gaming at a young age. Is there one thing that throws off your mood more than others, whether it be lack of sleep, lack of food, heat/cold, etc., and when was the last time you felt especially cranky? THE HEAT. I become so irritable. I was needlessly cranky a few days ago for whatever reason. What kinds of things are you likely to complain about? My legs hurting, more than anything. Also being hot. Do you like to put any extra effort into your food in terms of presentation, or do you prefer to just put it on a plate and eat it as it is, no frills? Ha, no. It's not gonna look fancy in my stomach, so whatever. Have you ever dated someone who had kids? No, and I very much doubt I ever would. Are there any candles in the room with you? No. Does the last person you kissed have tattoos? No, but I tell her all the time that dainty nature tattoos would be THE most beautiful on her. When was the last time someone called you pretty? I think when I last updated my Facebook profile picture. Do you like the color pink? It's my favorite! Does your cell phone have a case on it? What color? It came with this thin purple one. What was the last song you had on repeat? "Moon Baby" by Godsmack. Ever kissed someone your parents hated? No. Your most recent ex says he/she hates you, you say? I wouldn't *say* anything, I'd break down sobbing. Would you feel hurt if your last ex was in a relationship? No. Have you ever had to choose between two people? Yes: Jason and Juan. Juan and I dated for less than a day not all that long before Jason and I got together, and Juan was pretty upset. He was nooot a fan of Jason due to a shared ex-girlfriend. Jason, meanwhile, just didn't care. What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? What about the happiest? I think the saddest thing has to be my breakup, especially when you know just how madly in love I was with him and had endless trust that he would never leave, and then he was gone in a flash one night. The happiest is, in turn, my recovery from said split. I found strength in myself and felt hope for once as I learned coping mechanics and got a psychiatrist that was worth a shit in my partial hospitalization program. What was the last new drink you discovered that was delicious? *shrug* Do you have a YouTube channel? Yes. I don't make videos anymore, though. Were you happy as a teenager? God no, my depression was awful. What do you do for your mom on Mother’s Day? Sigh. Not enough. I just tell her happy Mother's Day, give her a hug, and try to be an extra good daughter. Do you know anyone who follows a raw vegan diet and lifestyle? No. Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? I can do it alone (but only have once), but I like to bring my mom with me still. Would you have sex with someone of the same gender as you? I'm bi, so. Have you ever had a concussion? One or two, I can't remember. How many dresses do you own? Zero. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Yeah, my friend Summer has a darling leopard gecko. I want oneeeeee. They look so damn derpy and adorable, and their chill demeanor is something I really like in pets. Would you ever go bear hunting? No. Absolutely never. Do you prefer drawing or painting? Any particular reason why? Drawing, for sure. At least you can erase stuff, and paint is just so messy. Do you like raisins? NO THANKS MAN. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? Nope. Do you forget to flip the page of your calendar at the start of each month? I don't have a calendar. Are you racist to any race? Nope. Have you ever intentionally hurt an animal? I've given cats and dogs a small pop on the rear, but nothing more than that. I hate doing even that, but with the language barrier and all, sometimes it's the only way to get your point across. Do you own any autographed memorabilia? No. Have you ever dated a twin? No. Oreos or Chips Ahoy? Oreos. Have you ever considered being a cop? Yeah, no thank you. What’s your favorite superhero movie? Maybe Logan. I thought it was very emotional and just overall a good movie. Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: MY MOM. Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: uhhhhhhhh Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: Dancing, maybe. Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda? Stale chips, for sure. It's certainly not my preference, but I can drink flat soda. Who’s the hottest guy and hottest girl out there? M-Mark Fischbach. :') Girl... let's seeeeee... maybe Alissa White-Gluz from Arch Enemy. GodDAMN what a WOMAN. ❤_❤ Do you ever trip over your pets? Yes, because he just looooves to follow me at my feet. What’s your relationship like with your exes? Aaron, Juan, Jason, and Tyler: nonexistent. Sara and Girt: great. What was the last thing you turned down doing? Going to my nephew's t-ball game. I always feel bad when I say no when Mom asks if I wanna go... but at least the kids know I just don't handle the heat well. Are you a party animal? Faaaaar from it, my friend. Who are you the biggest fan of? m-m-m-mMARKIPLIER You’re DJ for the night - first track to get everyone going? Uhhhh maybe "Party Hard" by Andrew W.K.? Have you ever been hit on by a pushy person? I think Juan was kinda pushy, but not to an uncomfortable degree. He respected what I felt. What accent do you find attractive? Most attractive, British. But I also really like Scottish and Irish. Also French accents in women I tend to find very beautiful-sounding. Have you ever had feelings for a friend's partner? Yes. What’s your favorite thing to do that doesn’t cost much? Drive around take pictures, maybe? Let's, uh, ignore the whole gas crisis in this answer. When in danger are you more fight or flight? Flight. Do you feel self conscious about a certain body part? *gestures to entire body* Have you been accused of being manipulative? Yes. Have you ever considered violence to solve your problem? No. Are you romantic? I personally think so. If you are a smoker, how long does a pack typically last you? If you aren’t a smoker, does anybody you are close to smoke, & if so, are you against the fact that they’re a smoker? I don't smoke. To answer the next part, yes, like my dad and stepmom. I wish they would stop so badly, like it's literally going to kill them both. Do you have more subscribers or more people that you are subscribed to? On YouTube? I'm definitely subscribed to waaay more people. Is there anything that has been drilled into your brain since you were young & you finally decided to stop listening to? How did it feel once you decided to listen to yourself over what you were told? Yes: "finish your plate." Teaching your kid to eat beyond their comfort can be very destructive, and I'm glad I never stuck to that once Mom stopped enforcing it. If you are currently in a relationship, what is one thing that seems to be unique or different about your relationship with this person, compared to other relationships in general? If you are currently single, is this more of a choice or is it more just the way things are going, not really something you chose? If you are neither “single” or officially in a relationship, what are your feelings on your current situation? I'm single, and it's just how it is. I know realistically I wouldn't tell what felt like the right person no, but it really is probably better that I stay single and keep figuring my shit out. Think of somebody famous that you have a lot of respect for. What is something that you really admire them for? To name just one thing I admire in Mark, his relentless "I'm going to do this no matter what" attitude is very inspirational to me. He lets like... n-o-t-h-i-n-g get in his way. If somebody were to leave a harsh comment on a survey you took, judging you on one of your opinions, how would you react? I'd get pretty self-conscious, just because I in general take judgment quite poorly. I obsess over "what if they're right, and you're just an idiot?". Are there any other sites you use to find surveys to take? What sites do you use? I mainly use Tumblr and LiveJournal, but in times of great desperation, I'll use Bzoink and just google surveys as well, haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Not sent, but I got one from someone I had no mutual friends with the other day. Safe to say I declined it. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? Uhhhhh no. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Apples. What was your pet’s last vet visit concerning? Roman has been to the vet once to get neutered (and I think shots?). I took Venus many years ago because I thought she had a respiratory infection. Thank god, she didn't. Which animals do you tend to go check out first at pet stores? The reptiles, snakes in particular. Have you ever been a victim of a house fire? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait before being seated at a restaurant? Like, over an hour. Have you ever had a cavity before? How about a root canal? A tooth pulled? Braces? Cavities and braces, yes. What is your favorite zoo animal that you would like to set free? Probably polar bears. Like especially here, it gets so hot in the summer, and the poor things sometimes only have a bit of snow in the shade. Like... they can't be very happy. Especially when you see those videos of them playing in snow, and then you think about situations like our zoo here... ugh. What kinds of artifacts fascinate you? I really think old figurines built with like clay and stuff are cool. But all artifacts I find to be very intriguing. It's so interesting to see that the desire to create has always been with us as a species. Is there anyone that you’ve visited in jail? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''killing in the name of'' by rage against the machine

[writerbyaccident]

A Hostage (Yandere Tomura ShigarakixReader)

Author’s note: hey everyone, i’m back! i felt inspired tonight, so here’s something new for all of you. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post much tomorrow and/or Friday though, my laptop battery desperately needs to be replaced so that’ll happen sometime this week hopefully. Thank you all for being so kind and supportive!

         Shigaraki clung to your waist as if he was afraid that you would disappear if he let go. Normally you would not have liked him being so clingy, perhaps even daring to attempt to squirm out of his grip if you thought he was in a lenient enough mood. But frankly, with the company you were currently in, you found being held in his lap oddly reassuring. His grip was so tight, so firm, that you felt as though you might float away without him holding you. Float away right into the jaws of the wolf standing before you.

           “So what’d you think?” Giran asked with a lazy grin. “Is he a good fit or what?”

           “His quirk is certainly impressive,” Kurogiri mused. Shigaraki grunted in apparent agreement, staring at the possible new recruit with a bored look in his crimson eyes. Really, he didn’t understand why he needed to be here for this. Kurogiri could have taken care of this little interview, and then Shigaraki could have kept playing his new game while you rested your head on his lap. It had been sheer bliss before you two were interrupted, feeling the weight of you resting on him and sneaking not-so-subtle glances down at your pretty, pretty face. He still wasn’t used to it, to having you there with him, not as a fantasy but as his, really his, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would be. But then Kurogiri and Giran had to go and ruin the fun.

           “So am I in or not?” the powerfully-built man asked impatiently. In all honestly, neither you nor Shigaraki could remember the name of this League hopeful. Scratching his neck absentmindedly, Shigaraki narrowed his eyes at the man thoughtfully.

           “No,” he answered after a pause. “His quirk’s good, but his control is shit. It’d be a liability.” Giran sighed, and Kurogiri nodded in pensive agreement, but the man receiving the verdict didn’t even blink.

           “Yeah, that’s what I figured,” the man chuckled. “Alright then, but I’m gonna need something before I go.” The friction in the room suddenly shooting up, you could feel the way Shigaraki’s muscles tensed beneath you. Hardly without noticing it, you held your breath as you waited for the storm to break.

           “And just what would that be?” Shigaraki hissed.

           “Well, I was looking for this job to give me the cash I need. You don’t want me, whatever, but I’m still going to need my money.”

           “And why the hell would we give you anything?”

Rather than answer, the man simply grinned and held out his hand, beckoning you over. Suddenly, as if you were being pulled by an invisible string that someone tugged on far too harshly, you found yourself practically flying into the man’s arms. The string now feeling like rope, and tied tightly around your body, the man pressed your back harshly into his chest and hovered his free hand just above your head.

“Because if you don’t,” he growled, “I’ll crush your little pet’s skull. We can see if her blood and brains are as pretty as the rest of her.”

For a moment, Shigaraki was simply frozen. He was frozen, but not in fear. No, it was rage that had frozen him. Fury coursed through him, setting his bones aflame with its intensity. But still, that was nothing compared to the frenzy in his head and heart. How dare this piece of shit threaten you! How dare he touch you, even fucking look in your direction! You belonged to him, to Shigaraki, no one else. You were his darling, his pet, his addiction, his love. He hadn’t let the police or heroes keep you from him, nor yourself, nor even the whole goddamn hypocritical world. And this fucking two-bit, wannabe villain was not about to do it either. No one would take you from him. If anyone ever tried, Shigaraki would tear the world apart until he got you back.

           “You really shouldn’t have done something so rash,” Kurogiri sighed, already knowing what the man’s fate would be.

           “Well you all shouldn’t have underestimated my quirk. Just give me what I want, and me and her will be on our way. I’ll return her once I’m situated. Unless you’d rather stay with me, sweetheart?” he purred perversely in your ear. It was that more than anything else that finally let Shigaraki’s fury break free.

           Rushing forward in a stormy rage, Shigaraki’s reached out for the man who had dared to put his hands on you. The villain stepped back, lowering the hand that hung over you threateningly, but that was exactly what Shigaraki was waiting for. With the criminal distracted, Shigaraki slipped into the portal Kurogiri had so quickly and discreetly made, appearing behind both you and the man in less than half a second. Before the man could make another move, Shigaraki grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from you with all five of his fingers.

           A scream being ripped from your attempted captor’s throat, you watched as Shigaraki disintegrated the man’s arm before your eyes. It was a horrible sight, even when seeing it happen to someone who had tried to harm you, and yet you couldn’t help but feel protected by the sheer rage that radiated from Shigaraki. Once the man had lost everything up to his elbow, Shigaraki nodded curtly to Kurogiri, who opened up a portal that encased everything below the stranger’s neck. Once the man was secure, Shigaraki turned back to you.

           Slowly, as if he was afraid that any sudden movements might frighten you, Shigaraki rested a hand on your head, stroking your hair softly. His blood-red eyes stared at you with such a fierce possessiveness, one that you had seen many times before, but never to this degree. And rather than fade as he continued to stare at you, confirming that you were unharmed and you were still with him, it only grew.

           “Go back upstairs,” Shigaraki murmured. “I’ll be up there soon.” Nodding numbly, you did as you were told, the thought of curling up in the bed Shigaraki made you share with him a supremely comforting one. As he watched you walk out of the room, Shigaraki didn’t let himself think of anything but you until he heard you reach the bedroom. Once he heard the door close though, he turned his attention to the matter at hand. Simply letting that piece of shit be destroyed by his quirk would have been too quick, Shigaraki mused angrily to himself. The man deserved to suffer for trying to hurt you, the one person Shigaraki loved.

Please consider supporting me at my Ko-Fi account 

#yandere shigaraki tomura x reader #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere tomura x reader #yandere tomura #yandere tomura shigaraki x reader #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere villain x reader #yandere villain #yandere league of villains #yandere league of villains x reader #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere story #yandere scenario #yandere ficlet #yandere drabble #yandere drabbles #yandere self insert #yandere reader insert #yandere fic #yandere fanfic #yandere fanfiction #yandere

[countryshitposts]

You’re Shooting Your Bullet The Wrong Way

Interlude

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of rape and assault

-

Name Guide:

Daehan Minguk- South Korea

Daehan Imsi- Korean Provisional Government

Daehan Jeguk- Korean Empire

Nabi- Colonial Korea, belongs to @redffeather

-

America was leaning on her chair as she silently observed the goldfish swimming in circles on her desk, her eyes glancing at her charging phone every second, as if she couldn’t wait to entertain herself with the advantages of technology that has been plaguing humanity since the very start of the world. She then stares back at the goldfish who was listlessly swimming, no life and no voice in the world, as the water makes soft currents following the goldfish’s swimming.

Quiet stretches over her office, her eyes going back and forth from the goldfish to her phone, trying to focus on one or the other, not wanting her thoughts to plague her mind like it did last night. Her mind had vomited up thoughts out of nowhere after her escapade with Japan two days ago; she can still feel his soft lips on her own, the way he had wrapped her arms around her in a rather warm and loving embrace, and the way he had defended her when she can defend herself against those assholes.

She touches her bruised eye, which was from a hit by Russia that night.

Russia corners America on the alley walls, before she could even continue. She glares up at his icy blue eyes, flaring with anger as fire and ice coexisted. She could smell his breath lacing with vodka, his eyes kindling with loathing for her. The taller man presses his face against hers, and now his breath is hard to get rid of. She glimpses at the now passed-out Japan, and she realises she needs to apologise to him once he regains consciousness again.

“You’re really a nuisance”, Russia growls, as his fingers dig deep into her wrist, while she tries to squirm from his grasp. Before she could respond, however, his lips crashes into hers, as . America’s eyes widen in surprise, his hard and dried lips making contact with hers, as she has no power to stop him, the taste of his mouth lingering on hers.

Of course she doesn’t think about that bastard; she’s thinking of Japan once again, who tells her she can have a break from her duties, with that kind smile and grey eyes showing how sincere and lively he is, and she can only smile back. He makes her feel something… warm deep inside her, a feeling she has never experienced before unless it was completely crushed by her own soul. A thousand feelings had crept up to her that night, as if his lips had given her another thought, to continue this sharing of warmth as if it was her own.

Goddamn it, she has been thinking of Japan lately, especially after that night where he took on a few punches for her sake.

(She misses those warm arms wrapping around her body like she was something.)

Her conscience wants to go back to Japan’s home though, but she stops herself.

It’s time for her to take a break from her fake job, away from everyone else, away from Japan and his family, because they’re all slowly driving her crazy.

She hears a knock on her door, and she tells them to come in.

Canada peeks his head from the door, his green eyes sweltering with anger; America spots him sporting a black eye as well. She smiles back at him, standing up to welcome his brother with open arms.

“Finally home”, she says, as Canada makes his way to her desk, also sporting a few bruises here and there. She frowns, as if she finally notices the predicament her brother was in. “What the hell happened to you?”

Canada averts his gaze, gazing sourly at the windows where they find Philip plucking at red dahlias and Vietnam shaking her head as she silently watches her coworker with a grief-stricken face. He looks back at his sister again, a smile on his face, as if he had not been scowling and wishing to murder someone right now.

“Prostitutes”, he says simply, before opening the window and poking his head out. “Philip, Vietnam, I need you to gather our officers in the meeting room. I have an announcement to make.”

His sister raises a brow, “What kind of announcement?”

He gazes darkly at Philip, his kindly green eyes turning into murderous poison, his pupils aiming at one of his officers, wanting to shoot the golden ring Philip has on him a few days ago. Canada ignores his sister’s question as he marches out of her office, as if she had never been there in the first place, a ghost to all ghosts.

Canada - for the day - takes the lead of the meeting, which was a hard push of pride for America herself, who was now seated quietly at the front desk, as her brother stands silently, glaring at everyone around him, his green eyes that used to host kindness and friendliness replaced with a burning rage that destroys and sets the forests of green into a blazing colour of red and orange. America stares at him with a worried look, because he has never been in a horrible mood before, except for those times she or her other brothers purposefully threw out all his pornos.

Then America notices his glare lighten as he looks at her, then picks up again when he glances at India.

Vietnam loses her patience first, “What are you waiting for, Canada?”

That seems to snap him out from his trance, as he clears his throat and starts to talk about why he’s been making a face all day. “So a few days ago, I was absent from work due to collecting intel from clients of one of Teikoku’s brothels.”

He once again glares at India, who glances away, as if he had done such a deathly sin to get Canada fuming with rage. He collectively gazes at a few officers, shooting a wary look at Philip, who was biting his lip, his dark blue eyes on Canada, as if he had found out a dangerous secret that was once exclusive to his and only his is now being broadcast to the entire world, before he glances down to look at the pattern of the table.

“I met a few colleagues of Teikoku, some unidentifiable faces of corrupt officials and businessmen, and some…” Canada looks around the entire room once again. “Very, very familiar people.”

From the corner of America’s eye, some of the officers are giving each other furtive glances, knowing what was about to come while the others were busily staring at Canada with confusion, as if it wasn’t possible for any gold-hearted warrior to be bribed with the promises of money and lust so that they can shield this horrifying secret away from the others who have come to search and find those kinds of secrets.

Canada smirks a little, as he steps on the table America specifically told him not to step on, but now is not the time as he, without hesitation, yanks India’s plaque from his uniform, and the man just stares back at his superior, meanwhile Canada was bending down and taking Bangladesh’s identification as a police officer, then Brazil, then Columbia, Ecuador, and Indonesia, all of them looking ashamed of themselves, as Canada glares at them, one by one.

He shakes his head despondently, before he finds his voice once again. “These officers don’t deserve to even be called as such. If they are this easy to manipulate, then we can’t trust them at all to do a good job. So, I’m firing them.” He turns to America for permission, and she looks at every single one of her - former - officers.

She can feel anger and justice growing deep inside her, as she continues staring at those who gave in to Teikoku’s promises and words of glory and fame, all for them to stop controlling their lusts and keep this whole secret from the entire department; they were supposed to be catching and arresting crime, but in the end they become criminals themselves, taking advantage of their higher position in power. She stares at every single one of them, anger amplifying like a raging fire, as she stands, commanding authority to all.

“They can’t even do their jobs properly”, she answers, narrowing her eyes to almost everyone of them, “so I’ll say this: if you can’t keep it in your motherfucking pants and decide to turn to more illegal methods of fucking, you ain’t fit for a position like this. Get out of my sight.”

Canada nods as he scowls at those whom he took away their privileges from, “You heard her. Get out.”

The fired officers take their leave, never looking back at the others who remain in their seats, who were all looking around, as America slowly sits back down, anger vanishing, and now left with an awful migraine, probably her bruise two nights ago.

Canada once again glares back at Philip, who was toying with the red dahlias he had plucked from the outside, ring shining, before stalking out of the room, then followed by his siblings.

-

“What the hell happened to your eye?”, Canada asks a while later, as he and his siblings were now lounging on the front desk as the others were on their lunch break. America subconsciously puts a hand over her eye, as she munches on the burger her brother gave to her.

“Russia”, America simply replies with a shrug.

“Russia? How did he do that?”, Australia asks from behind them, having finished a phone call from Villers.

America scowls. “Kissed me right in the lips. Then hit me.”

New Zealand looks up from his lunch with a raised brow, but his eyes scream outrage. “Asshole. How did you and Russia encounter?”

America shrugs, her mind trying to go back to that night but instead of Russia in her mind threatening her it was Japan’s soft lips pressing against hers. She immediately goes red at the thought, trying to disregard those churning feelings inside her as she keeps her face serious and not look like an enamoured teenager because that’s now what she is. She has a life now.

“Japan decided to go to a bar in the middle of the night”, she replies, “to ‘make me feel better’, I guess. And then I realised that Russia is one of the bartenders there and Jesus fucking Christ, was he horrible at it. Assholes decided to harass me but Japan beat them unconscious. Then he passes out from drinking too much.”

Canada tilts his head. “That was a wild fucking night. I, meanwhile, was being tied up by girls in the brothel because they think I kidnapped one of them. Shanghai, I think?”

America gives him a look, “I found her, by the way. Didn’t know you’d let a prostitute of someone as perverted as Teikoku leave without guidance.”

Her brother had the right to look sheepish. “I thought she would’ve ran to the police station.”

His sister shakes her head, “Found her in Daehan Imsi’s home. You know, the uncle of the guy we’re risking our lives for. He was very defensive when I called her a prostitute and one of Teikoku’s toys.”

Aussie sighs, “Why would you even say that with no hesitation nor remorse?”

New Zealand snickers lightly, “She’s always been blunt, no need to call her out more.”

Canada stretches his arms to the back of his head. “So America, did you find any more clues about what the hell Teikoku’s been doing?”

She immediately slaps herself internally; she was so busy taking care of Koku that she forgot about her assignment entirely, knowing she shouldn’t have come back empty-handed, but she remembered what Russia had told her before he had the nerve to hit her square in the face.

“Russia said something about Soviet Union trying to date Ost”, America says, before blanching- Soviet was a decade or more older than Ost, even older than Koku had ever been, meaning this age gap was even worse than the latter’s, but that doesn’t make it any better.

Aussie’s face sours, his eyes narrowing as he calculates Soviet and Ost’s age, “But Ost is fifteen and Soviet is- NOPE I’m not thinking about it!”

The others also look just as disgusted as their brother, who had almost dropped his cup of coffee out of sheer shock,

“What a creep”, Canada states, frowning, “exploiting a young teen like that. We need to do something, quick.”

“‘Creep’ isn’t even the word I’m looking for”, New Zealand replies, looking sick in the stomach. “That’s full-on pedophilia.”

“I’m wary of Soviet”, America says, “just as I’m wary of Teikoku and Weimar.”

“Didn’t you say on a phone call Weimar put something on your and Koku’s stew?”, Aussie asks as he takes a sip from his coffee mug. “Because that’s some fucked up shit, man.”

“Very fucked up shit”, Canada supplies.

“Really fucked up shit”, New Zealand adds.

“It’s Weimar’s dad, I’m sure of it”, America says. “Who the fuck puts their dead dad’s remains in a stew and expect people to turn cannibal?”

Canada shrugs, “Apparently Weimar. But we don’t have enough evidence that he murdered his dad. Remember; there’s no more body because he made people eat it.”

Kiwi nods thoughtfully, “A horrifying way to get rid of evidence, but still quite effective.”

“But what does Soviet want with Ost?”, Aussie asks out loud, as they come back to that messy subject. “We already know that she and Koku are going to get married, whether both parties like it or not.”

“To enrage Teikoku?”, America suggestively replies, “the letter Soviet gave to him seems to think it.”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.” Just then, Aussie’s phone rings and he picks up and answers it, his eyes lighting up and his lips curving to a bright smile, which means, “Ah, Villers!”

Everyone instinctively groan and sigh- the lovebirds are once again calling each other. America can feel herself subtly get reminded of the fact that she is now reaching her thirties (she technically is in her thirties but don’t correct her) but it seems that no one is interested in her or she hasn’t found the right person yet. Or maybe she didn’t seem to think no one would like her that way- there was this charming man back when she was fifteen who gave her a drink, but she passed out and ended up in her room barren.

And with child.

Aussie hangs up with a “Love you too babe!” (it makes America sick) and turns to stare at his siblings who were all victims of his damned monologue to his fiancee. He gives them all a huge smile, “Villers said she’s going to meet all of us in the park.”

Canada scoffs, “What, she organised a picnic for all of us?”

“She really did”, Canada says a few minutes later, mouth agape, as Aussie helps Villers set up the picnic table while she hums and kisses her fiance on the cheek, earning a chuckle from him.

New Zealand shakes his head fondly, “Never underestimate Villers.”

As the picnic table is settled, Villers and Aussie takes a seat on the far end of the table as the others take a seat with them.

America huffs a laugh as she looks at Villers, green eyes twinkling, “We already had lunch when you called us- you didn’t need to cook food for all of us!”

Villers laughs softly, a simple breeze to the harsh winds that strike fear in everyone’s heart. She was quite a warm lady, always caring more for others than herself. It is what made Australia so in love with her, and at the same time wanting to be like her in every single way. She was such a sweet dame, a lovely person with sharp wit and tongue, but that doesn’t mean she is going to let people step all over her as if she was just a doll.

“How was the kindergarten, Villers?”, America asks as she dines in with the others, and the woman’s eyes brighten like stars.

“They’re all so brilliant and talented and kind!”, she replies with a soft smile on her face, as she looks at Aussie shyly. “It makes me wonder if I would have kids someday.”

Aussie instantly goes red, as the others laugh and clap him on the back.

America laughs, “Glad to hear that. So, have you guys planned when the wedding will be?”

“When you get a boyfriend”, Aussie jokes, and America playfully throws her fork at him, lodging into the table as everyone laughs.

“Asshole!”, she exclaims. “Don’t be so smug that you’re getting married!”

“Literally everyone here is jealous you’re gonna get married first”, Canada says, as he shoots a look towards Kiwi. “What about you and Luxembourg, huh?”

Kiwi blushes with embarrassment, “Shut the fuck up about him!”

Once again, everyone in the table laughs, before they start eating the marvelous wonders of Villers’ cooking.

While America’s brothers are making absolute shits out of themselves in the park, America and Villers were sitting under the tree, the both of them enjoying its shade from the sun. She likes the sun sometimes, but not when it makes her all hot and bothered and gives her a sunburn just from staying under it for too long. Then again, it was a great source of warmth in the cold mornings, and a light that will vanish during stormy days and winter, when the sun was not confident to shine on those who he had saved.

From beside her, Villers sighs, her golden curls shining from the hints of sunlight peeking playfully from under the leaves. She looks on at Aussie with a small smile on her face, as she subconsciously pats her belly, as if something was growing in there other than the digestion of food. Her eyes sparkling from joy morph to one of sadness, her smile faltering as it crumbles.

America frowns, “What’s wrong, Villers?”

Villers looks back at America, her eyes shining with an undefinable sadness that she had never seen in the woman before. “Can you keep a secret?”, she says through hushed lips, and America hesitantly nods.

“Why?”

Villers takes a shaky breath, as her eyes show an intense sadness that even America herself never thought she’d harbring. “Today, I went to the pharmacy to get a pregnancy test after I complained of morning sickness to Aussie.”

Her friend’s eyes light up excitedly, “Are you pregnant?”

Villers holds back a sob, as she turns back to Aussie and the others, laughing and muttering gibberish. “I wish I was.”

America cosies next to Villers, “What’s wrong?”

Her friend was trying not to cry, as she sniffles a little, “I was so excited when the pregnancy test flashed positive. I thought me and the love of my life are going to have a kid.” She buries her head on America’s chest, while America wraps an arm around her comfortingly, her golden hair glowing with sadness, as if it obeys its master’s emotions.

“In fact, I was proven wrong by the doctors”, she says between sniffles. “They said I can’t bear a child. That I’m too infertile. I don’t think Australia would want me anymore after I break the news to him that I can’t have children. H-he wanted us to have a big family, you know.”

America stares at her sadly, as she lifts Villers’ face up so their eyes can come face to face, Villers stormy blue eyes full of sorrow and sadness in contact with America’s determined and comforting eyes.

“Villers, where did you get the idea that Australia would leave you?”, America asks softly.

She looks away, back at Aussie sadly, “No one likes an infertile woman.”

America sighs, shaking her head, “Now where did you find that? We ain’t in the fifteenth century anymore, where every single asshole would want their wives and daughters to crank out more babies. This is the modern world, and Australia will never leave you just because you can’t bear his children.” They stare at each other’s eyes once more. “So don’t say shit like that, alright?”

Villers nods hesitantly. “O-okay. But please keep this a secret.”

“I will, you have my word.”

“Oi Villers, look at what Aussie got himself too this time!”, comes New Zealand’s voice, and Villers immediately wipes her tears as she and America run towards the stream.

As America and Villers finally reach the stream, America almost chokes just from laughing. Australia was battling with a few frogs defending their eggs that were a few feet near Aussie. From the corner of her eye, Villers cracks a smile before she instantly laughs as a toad jumps on her fiance’s face, making him fall down the stream, splashing him even more.

“Filthy vermin!”, he shouts as he tears the amphibian apart from his face, as he turns to glare at his laughing siblings and fiancee. “I could’ve used your help, ya know.”

“It’d be better laughing at ya”, Kiwi replies between laughs.

“How did you even manage to get into a fight with frogs?”, America chortles.

“Well, whatever the reason, I think he needs help.” Without waiting for another beat, she approaches the fight scene as loads of frogs are now climbing on Aussie’s body, as he kicks and swears at them to get off. As Villers approaches, his mood suddenly brightens, as his fiancee brushes the amphibians off him gently, before kissing him in his damp stream-filled lips, and he reciprocates, his hands on her waist.

Then Aussie presses his body onto her even more, deepening the kiss and making Villers gasp.

“Get a room!”, Canada bellows from above them, as Aussie immediately breaks the kiss, with the woman in his arms looking dazed and lovestruck all over again.

He gives his older brother the bird as the others laugh, going back to the picnic.

(Somewhere, in America’s heart, she is overcome by the fact that she also dreams of looking at someone with lovestruck eyes.)

-

Shanghai dreams of a hundred hands tearing her clothes apart, bit by bit, faces mangled and distorted beyond recognition, just faces looking absolutely delighted to finally get their filthy hands on her like it was the end of the world. Their voices were like smoke in her nose; forever bothersome and polluting her lungs and mind, dirtying her soul and damaging her heart into tiny little pieces.

Then one of the hands finally tears the last layer of her clothes, and with a blood-curdling scream, they were all upon her like rats finding food.

“Shanghai!”, a voice from a distance echoes throughout her mind, but all she sees are hands everywhere, controlling her moves and body forever and ever.

She feels someone’s hand land on her shoulders, and she kicks the person away from her, her shaking body trying to guide her away from the trespasser, but all she could find are walls, walls, walls. They surround her, torment her with their solid boundary, knowing there is no escape between them and the man in front of her. She screams and shouts with all her might, loudly, hoping someone will help, but no one does, no one really does.

“Shanghai”, the voice says with a grunt, as she hears footsteps advancing towards her- there is no hope but to crawl into a fetal position and sob into her arms, knowing the inevitable was coming.

But no one kisses her in the cheek and whispers an inappropriate comment in her ear before pinning her down to the bed. But he was still there, waiting, watching.

She hears him sigh, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have startled you. I will be leaving you now, but if you ever change your mind, you can come out and have breakfast with me and Minguk.” She lifts her head from her lap, as she stares at Imsi’s back leaving her.

Shanghai remembers anything, and she immediately stands, “Wait.”

Imsi looks back at her with a questioning look. “Would you like to eat breakfast with us?”

Shanghai nods hesitantly. “O-okay.”

Breakfast was a quiet affair with Imsi and Minguk; Imsi encourages her to eat more as he reassures there will be a lot to feed the family. She cautiously takes a bite of her food, still paranoid it might be drugged, but as her tongue tastes the properties of the meat Imsi had cooked, she immediately eats her entire food from her plate. From the corner of her eye, Minguk was glaring at her suspiciously- it seems that he still has not got over his suspicions of her being a robber.

“Samchon”, Minguk starts as he takes a bite of his breakfast, “when is she going to leave?”

She stops eating to look at Imsi expectantly, who drops his fork and is now glaring at Minguk.

“Minguk, where are your manners these past few days?”, Imsi asks, “because she will not be leaving unless she is now well.”

“I can leave now”, Shanghai pipes up, her eyes never leaving Imsi, at how easily he defends her than his own blood, “I feel fine.”

Nephew and Uncle stare at her- one with victorious eyes, the other with an unreadable look.

“Are you sure?”, Imsi asks with a concerned tone, too genuine to be considered fake. “You had bruises on your body the last time I saw you.”

She was taken aback at how he cares for her, as if she was just a family member to him, as if she is measurable to his nephew who seems to certainly be attached with. Shanghai hesitates, not sure if she should go out in the real world and risk being caught by Teikoku and his guards and being put back in the brothel (although she will be reunited with Nanjing and Ryukyu once again), so perhaps the safe move is no move.

She turns back to Imsi, “I don’t think I’ll be going for now.”

Suddenly, they hear someone drop their fork violently, with Minguk locking himself in his room, closing the door with a bang. Imsi shoots up from his seat, glaring daggers at the locked door.

“Dangsin-ui maeneoneun dangsin-eul tteonassseubnida!”, he bellows at him in Korean, grumbling before sitting back down, toying uselessly with his food, a dejected look plastered on his face. Shanghai knows it is her fault that drove Minguk away from the dinner table, so she brings herself to comfort the man who had blessed her with a home.

“Joesong haeyo”, she apologises in Korean, which turns Imsi’s attention from his rebellious nephew to her, his eyes wide with surprise and fascination.

“You speak Korean?”, he asks with a growing interest, his mouth curving to a smile. “Because you speak quite well.”

Shanghai nods, feeling flattered at the fact someone had complimented her language skills- this skill has faded over time, as the only vocabulary she knows in the brothels is playing the lowly seductress and screaming into the sheets as she tries to dream of a life where she and her sisters in the brothel are living in a paradise that no one else will touch.

“Gamsahabnida”, she replies shyly, “I was a translator and knew a large number of languages back then.”

Imsi looks quite fascinated, as he completely forgets his food to turn his interest to her, but no lust nor desire evident in his face. “A job as a translator sounds really nice! I’ve mastered a few languages because I was quite curious, and also because I have no interest in making friends back then.”

Shanghai is taken aback about how blunt and honest he is about why he had learned a dozen languages in his lifetime, just because he didn’t want to make friends back then. She remembers that she was quite social, when her entire life was still a whole empire, and not the vast disorganised city states that her life came to be now. There was a hint of sadness and loneliness in his eyes, as if he regretted not making friends in his old life.

She doesn’t know how to respond, and she simply nods to the beat, “Ah, interesting.”

Imsi shrugs, as if this was no big deal and there are other ways to get over his loneliness. “What other languages do you know?”

Shanghai thinks for a moment- she certainly had not practised all of the languages she learned, and she feels like she has failed herself in overcoming her pain these past few years and never developed her old interests since her only interest was now to survive.

“I don’t know if I still remember some of them”, she replies hesitantly, “French, Swedish, Portugese, Russian, Italian, German, Danish, and Dutch.”

Imsi’s eyes light up, impressed. “I’ve… never even mastered that many languages. I mean, I know Chinese, French, Spanish, Russian and German, but that’s it for me.” He smiles at Shanghai shyly, as if he is starting to make a friend after all these years hiding in books, getting lost in each page like he was inside a story rather than the real life where he is living and breathing and suffering.

Shanghai shyly smiles, once again feeling flattered at the compliment. She can feel an unnecessary but determined friendship growing at the both of them, their feet being planted at the soil as roots start to grow overnight, and in the morning a flower blooms in the gardens.

(After breakfast, she remembers that she is still wearing Imsi’s shirt, so she tries to give it back to its rightful owner while he is washing dishes- for some reason he feels uncomfortable at a woman taking a shirt off in front of him and tells her she can keep it.)

Minguk is out for school and Imsi is in his office, well, working, leaving Shanghai alone, lounging around the home with a bored expression on her face. She looks at all of the books in the bookcase- she had read almost everyone of them, but it doesn’t hurt to reread the same fictional words once again, so she gets up and examines the books that she feels she had not fully stemmed out, not fully fleshed out and fully studied.

She chooses Stranger in a Strange Land- she remembered thinking it was rather bizarre, and never gave it another chance, but she decides she’ll take a closer look at it today, knowing she will regret opening the book’s covers. As she takes a seat on the sofa, she inhales the scent lingering in her shirt; it belongs to Imsi, and it still belongs to him. Whenever she smells it, she can feel a sense of calm in her, as if Imsi is there comforting her wherever she is, she will be reminded that Imsi is there to shelter and secure her.

She makes herself relax a little, once again smelling Imsi’s shirt - damn his cologne is enchanting yet comforting too - as she starts to read the book.

A few hours passed, and she had now finished the damned thing, and now she wishes to take a break from reading. Shanghai hears someone in the kitchen, and she turns to look at Imsi, busily making himself a drink.

“Hello”, she says, which shocks him a little, almost making him drop his drink.

He awkwardly smiles at Shanghai, shifting uncomfortably, “Is there something wrong?”

She shakes her head, “Nothing. How is your work?”

He averts his gaze, scratching his head, before looking at her again, “Well, I’ve been struggling at something, and I am pretty sure you have the knowledge to help me.”

Shanghai tilts her head, “Me?”

He nods, “You’re smarter than I’ll ever be. I can see it in your eyes.”

She cannot help but scoff at the way he says it, an old spark rekindling inside of her. “A boy assumes he can see my wit inside my eyes.”

Imsi gives her a small smile. “Well, you’re already doing it right now.”

Her eyes widen, as she realises what she had just said to the man in front of her. She stiffens, thinking that he is offended at what she had said, but he simply chuckles.

“I mean it, you know.”

Shanghai looks into his eyes, so genuine it hurts her. “I know.”

A few minutes later, Shanghai’s body is - uncomfortably - pressed up against Imsi’s, highlighting a few curves on her purposefully. Imsi looks neither interested nor aroused, but more uneasy and awkward, like he doesn’t want someone’s body making contact with his like this. She feels puzzled at the fact he is not giving in to her advances- many men who had been vulnerable to her wiles will have already taken their shirt and pants off just at the sight of her. He doesn’t seem to be caving in yet.

“Wow- I never thought about it that way.” He taps on the keys on his keyboard, as Shanghai points at something on the screen, purposefully pressing her body even more into his.

“Like that. The police sometimes can’t be trusted- they can be as corrupt as any government official. The problem of corruption is like a rot in the core.”

“It is something depressing, yet real at the same time”, Imsi agrees, as he leans further away from Shanghai. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

She blinks a little before realising he’s serious, then sits on his lap, with him grunting in both shock and awkwardness. “No, Shanghai, get a chair for you to sit in.”

“Oh… okay.” Once she gets herself a chair to sit on, she accompanies Imsi with his work, pointing out a few mistakes and suggesting a few words to enhance the vocabulary of his presentation, with the man thanking her profusely every time she points out something is wrong with his document.

Shanghai unconsciously buries her face in Imsi’s shirt sometimes- whether it be the shirt she is wearing or the shirt Imsi is wearing; it seems to have a calming effect on her, like she was standing on a rose garden as butterflies snack on the pollen in each blooming flower, paying her no mind as she roams around the gardens, wondering if she can always be there, if she can still find this in a place where she is in peril.

Once she is now helping Imsi edit and proofread the document, she can feel her stomach groaning and moaning, knowing that hunger is an old enemy she has to face.

(In the brothels, Teikoku had only given her and the other workers a formidable amount of food, but in the end she only eats little of it and gives most of her food to the younger girls who are more in need of food than she ever will be.)

“We’re finished”, Imsi says as he stretches his arms over his head, a smile on his face. “Wanna celebrate by going to the malls and buying food? I’ll pay, of course.”

She bites her lip; on one hand, she wishes to explore how much has changed while she was stuck in the brothels like a dead woman inside her coffin. But on the other, Teikoku will know she has escaped his clutches and now he’s hunting her down like a dog. She shakes her head, a little rapidly, making Imsi a little concerned.

He nods, understanding. “All right, I’ll just make lunch for all of us.”

That is one thing that can make her nod, as she follows Imsi out of his office.

She submissively waits for him to finish cooking, her arms on her lap, eyes on the table, biting her lip with a clear vengeance, now tasting copper in her mouth. There is a thick but comfortable silence, enveloping the both of them, only to be broken by Imsi’s singing, which was calming her down the same way Imsi’s scent is.

“I like the way you sing.” That statement makes Imsi jump, as he looks back towards Shanghai with a flustered look.

He gives her a lopsided smile, “Thanks. I rarely sing since my voice is crappy- Minguk’s the better singer, but thank you.”

She shyly smiles at him, “You’re welcome- you should sing more.”

He laughs, which was surprisingly pleasant to her ears, as he goes back to his work. “Your voice is quite melodious too.”

Instead of being flustered with the compliment, her smile falters as a dozen memories come and try ruin her mood.

“Your voice would be more beautiful if you scream for mercy.”

“How much will it take for you to sing for me?”

“You’re nothing but a slut and a whore.”

“I…”, she blinks back to the present, her body shaking and quivering, tears clouding her vision.

“Shanghai?”, a tentative voice asks, and she looks up at Imsi, who’s now done with what he was cooking. “Are you all right?”

She slowly stares up at Imsi, whose face was once again full of concern and worry. She nods, a little more shakily.

“Did… I say something that triggered your past?”

The way he says it, like he cares more about her welfare than his own, makes her want to reveal the truth about herself even more.

She simply nods.

She feels someone carefully wrap his hands around her. “I… I’m so sorry.”

Instead of fighting and pushing him away from her, she slowly accepts the embrace, burying her face into his chest, the smell of roses enthralling her.

(Lunch was also just as quiet as breakfast, the only thing that is different is the hot weather around the house.)

“Why is she still here?”, Minguk asks as he arrives home, taking his shoes off and putting his bag on one of the sofas, glaring hard at Shanghai, who is once again fidgeting in her seat. Imsi looks up from his work to glare at his nephew, but it is more tiring.

“Minguk, please”, he sighs, “give her some respect. She is more than just a suspicious individual.”

He groans as he goes to his room to sulk, closing the door behind him.

“I really should have left a while ago, then”, Shanghai says softly, sighing sadly. “I’m sorry, again.”

“It’s okay. Minguk is never really fond of visitors. Don’t worry, once he gets to know you better he’ll warm up on you.”

Shanghai nods, knowing Minguk not trusting her easily is reasonable and she would not trust the family if she wasn’t so desperate in hiding herself from Teikoku. Speaking of which, she should think of a plan on how to get her friends - no, sisters - out of the brothel, wanting nothing but to see Teikoku dead at her feet. She wants to know if she could sneak inside of the brothel once again, and meet the officer who had freed her so that he and she would break her sisters out, away from the life of exploiting their bodies and into a life together, forever and ever.

She looks back at Imsi, who is once again doing his work.

“Do you like working?”, she speaks up.

He looks at her with those dark brown eyes, a hint of grieving and sadness in them, “Yeah. I really like working. It helps me relax, to be honest.”

Shanghai tilts her head, “There are other ways to relax, so why choose working as a way of relaxation?”

He gives her a small look that does not hint indignance or irritation, but the sadness in his eyes grows larger, too much that she worries he might succumb to it. “It’s the only way that can keep my mind distracted, long enough for me to help the inner workings of my brain relax. When I’m doing nothing, I think of horrible thoughts.”

She can feel her interest perk up further, as she leans further from the couch. “What kind of horrible thoughts?”

He didn’t say, which is good, because if he did say anything then that means she must say something about her in return, which was bad.

The thing about Imsi is that he gives himself away more often than keeping to himself; just the other day he was busily talking to himself in a torn bathrobe, almost looking a decade old, pacing back and forth, dark hair that is usually kept wild and not that kept. He was muttering about how it was the day where ‘she’ went missing, where ‘she’ was taken by ‘him’. When Shanghai fully comes out of her room, he stops pacing around and gives her a small but awkward smile.

“Why are you wearing a filthy bathrobe?”, she asks.

“Why are you awake at 5 in the morning?”, he replies, before shrugging. “A force of habit, especially today.”

(The first thing she learns about Imsi is that he answers her question honestly- a little too vague but he had made things clear: he can’t keep secrets of himself.)

The next day, she had gotten up early once again, a nightmare shaking up her very core (she couldn’t remember what it was about but she knows men were touching her again), and Imsi was there, with a glass of water and a concerned expression on his face. He was like a doctor, that man… too much of a doctor.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah- no, not really.” She tries to lie, but she does a complete 180 and tells him how she really truly feels, as if his genuinely concerned voice and worrying expression is enough to break the ice between them and to enter a favourable friendship.

“Bad dream again?”

She nods, choking back a sob, feeling her insides twist and churn with melancholy and grieving. The past will always catch up to her, no matter how many times she runs from the past and into the present like it was a human being, hunting her, catching her and succeeding ultimately, as the past forces her to watch the painful memories of her and her sisters being placed in the brothel, one by one, nothing else really mattering.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She doesn’t answer, because that is what always happens- she ignores his worried face as she closes her eyes, trying to remember what Nanjing and Ryukyu looks like; even the others who didn’t have the luck to be here with her, free but confined in the house.

(The second thing about Imsi is that he doesn’t seem to leave someone helpless or crying or sobbing or shouting or basically having bad feelings. And that also applies to himself. He’ll comfort every single one of them until they are free from sadness.)

Shanghai surprisingly wakes up not from dreams the next day, but from shouting.

She peeks her head out of the door, the sounds of the voices growing louder. It seems Imsi was berating Minguk again. For what, she doesn’t know.

“You shouldn’t have been wearing it while asleep!”, the sound of Imsi’s voice somewhat calming her down, but it is an octave too high for her liking, and she hopes to herself that she wouldn’t face an angry Imsi in the future.

“I forgot to take it off and that’s it, samchon!”, she could just feel Minguk rolling her eyes, because he has that energy (who’s to say he’s doing it now?).

And now she can also feel Imsi shaking his head disappointedly. “Minguk, I’m sorry to say this but you won’t be wearing your binder today.”

A pause, then-

“What the fu- samchon please! I have a tutor coming today and I’m not wearing anything other than my binder!”

Imsi just clicks his tongue, “Minguk, I know you, but sometimes you go overboard with wearing your binder. Please, for your sake and mine. I just want what’s best for you.”

“Why do I feel like what’s best for me isn’t the best?”, Minguk asks through sniffles, which is something out of the ordinary, as it seems that the boy with no feelings actually has and just has the difficulty in explaining them.

“I’m so sorry, Minguk. But you were having trouble breathing in your sleep. I love you, your mother loves you, your brother loves you.”

And now Minguk is full-on crying, rain coming down in a dry terrain, with Imsi whispering comforting and soothing words in his ear.

She meets the tutor soon enough, his presence in the same room as her making her blood run cold. He reminded her of him too much so to consider escaping. She drops her books from shock when he enters the house, looking all damp and cold from the rain outside, as a rundown of memories start torturing her, from the cold and wicked grin, the crimson red eyes swirling with madness and the cold, always cold hands pinning her to the walls or bed, as she stops squirming and just disassociates.

“Teikoku?”, she had said in a small voice, as he turned to look at her, with clear grey eyes, a parting storm.

Not Teikoku.

But enough to make her feel vulnerable and helpless again, and now Imsi knows who she truly is, but defends her in every single way against America, who is spitting out the real truth; that she was a dirty whore who was too far away from home.

“You don’t like me anymore, do you?”, Shanghai asks after dinner time, as Imsi carries out a tray of teacups and a teapot standing tall and proud in the center. He sits down from across her and tilts his head.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because…” she chokes a little, looking away from Imsi. “I’m a whore.”

He shakes his head. “No. No you’re not. No one is a whore first. You are a brilliant woman who had been unfortunately taken by Teikoku like the bastard he is. So no, you’re not a whore, and don’t you ever call yourself that.”

“You seem to have a lot more confidence in me than myself.”

He meets her eyes, sad and defensive, “It’s what I do, to make everyone feel better. I love them for what they are, I hate them for what they are.”

“But why like me rather than hate me?”

“Because it will kill me to hate someone like you.”

(They talk about how green tea is their favourite flavour of tea right after.)

Imsi treats her the same way he treats her after the incident; always giving her a second look, treating her as a functioning object rather than a broken one - thankfully - and Minguk seems to be giving her a chance as well. Imsi seems to love hearing her talk, hearing her ramble more and more about the general public and politics and opinions with no break in her voice; as if he was more invested in hearing her voice than his.

And that was - in her point of view - enlightening her. He does not treat her as a toy meant to be broken, rather than someone who needs help and is helping her in the most discreet of ways, but he still is accompanying her through some hard times.

“I like you”, she says one day, as Imsi types in his laptop, and he looks up, his face tinged with red.

“I like you too”, he replies, softer and silent. “You’re a good friend.”

She nods, “You are too.”

He snorts, “I’m a crap friend. I’m never good for anything.”

“But you helped me overcome my fears- not all, but some.”

He gives her a small smile, “It’s what I do; help people feel happy and confident about themselves.”

“Do you feel confident?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, before saying,

“No.”

She can feel something in her that turns her into a fiery woman she once was back then. “Je bent een zelfverzekerd persoon.” She never thought she still has the expertise to talk in a language she had never exercised in the brothels, but it seems that her skills have just been pressed aside into her mind as she thinks of ways on how to survive.

He stares up at her, failure in his eyes. “Tu no sabes eso.”

Shanghai snorts, “You say that I am a smart person- so of course I know if you’re confident or not.”

Imsi stares back at the keyboard, despondent. “I’m a failure.”

“Why?”

“I just am.”

Maybe that is what hurt her about Imsi the most.

One day, Imsi and Shanghai are now in the backyard, sipping tea on the porch as she stares at the butterflies that are ravaging the peonies.

“Tell me more about her.”

“Who?”

“Nabi.”

“You know her.”

“I know her only as one of us, but not as a mother.”

Imsi nods, getting her drift. “Nabi was… sweet and kind. She’d get flustered and red at any kinds of comments, she’s always there to comfort either me or my twin brother. The one who’d become her husband one day. She is also quite fragile, but we don’t use that much to our advantage. Jeguk was quite protective of her, like any husband who loves his wife very much. Especially at how young she gave birth too.”

“How old was she when she gave birth to her sons?” Nabi talks about her sons all the time when she and the others are being left alone by men who prey on them; she seems quite attached, like Nanjing is to Taiwan.

“Sixteen.” He says it so simply, like it is no surprise that Nabi had borne two sons at a young age.

Shanghai’s eyes grow wide, “Sixteen?!”

“An accident in my brother’s part, really; when he found out she was pregnant he underwent an anxiety attack since our father wanted him to continue our legacy. In the end I told him who he would choose if our dad is out of the picture, and he chose Nabi. They were inseparable, those two.” There was a hint of sadness, and now Shanghai is thinking of Nabi and her husband holding hands… Nabi cradling her children while singing a lullaby… Nabi, being full and rich of life.

She wants to know what happened to Nabi when she was happy. When they were all happy.

“How did your dad react?”

Imsi shakes his head. “Not good; he and Jeguk argued and disowned my brother.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine.” He doesn’t look fine, as his eyes are clouding over with memories once again, memories of a life where everything was easier and that everything was fake but real, nonetheless. There was a searching in his eyes, wanting to see the person that completes his heart once again, as brothers, as friends in a lifetime. He wipes a stray tear that escaped away from his face, as he turns to smile at Shanghai, wanting to forget that he is indeed sad at how his life had turned out more than he will ever reveal. “More tea?”

She nods. “More tea, please.”

They enjoy the afternoon together, just the two of them.

-

dangsin-ui maeneoneun dangsin-eul tteonassseubnida- your manners have left you

Joseong haeyo- i’m sorry

Gamsahabnida- thank you

je bent een zelfverzekerd persoon- you’re a confident person

Tu no sabes eso- you don’t know that

#writing #you're shooting your bullet the wrong way #mine #countryhumans #countryhumans america #countryhumans australia #countryhumans canada #countryhumans new zealand #cityhumans shanghai #countryhumans kpg

[tenaciousarcadeexpert]

Criminal Minds-The Good Ol Days

Chapter 9-It All Falls Apart

Tagging:

@marvelfanlife, @itsmeedee, @cynbx, @jaqren, @gabriellewritermua, @princesswagger15, @screaminginbi, @tleighstone12, @cosmicmelaninflower, @ssadavieboy

A collaboration fic with @princesswagger15

If you thought the last chapter was bad, things get even worse for the team in this chapter

 The following day after Stephen’s accident, it was like a dark energy was formed over every student in the campus. Everyone’s movements were hesitant and slow, almost zombie like. It was as if everyone shared the same burden with the team, without any real knowledge of the situation. Especially during breakfast, where even in the cafeteria, there was not a single peep, apart from a few whispers.

“Well, I ain’t heard a room this quiet since Thanksgiving two years ago at my momma’s house.” Marissa comments, trying to lighten the mood.

“Marissa, calm down. A student just got into an accident, I’m pretty sure now is not the time to make jokes.”

“Forgive me if i'm trying to make at least ONE PERSON SMILE!!!” Marissa shouts and a few glances our thrown her way for breaking the deafening silence.

“Babe, calm down okay? We appreciate your efforts, but now really isn't the best of times love.” Reid says.

She sighs. “Well I’m sorry for trying to lighten the mood.”

The gang all give some rather exasperated looks.

“This can’t get any worse, can it?” Elle groaned. 

“Elle I swear to god if you jinx us I’ll kill you myself.”

“Listen y-” “Can you both stop it?!” Emily snapped. “We were all a bit shaken up about last night. Gideon is was murdered, Kyle too and now Stephen is currently in a coma. So, it’s pretty reasonable that everyone is a bit paranoid today.” “I still can’t believe that of all people, it had to be him.” Kate moped as she plays with the bits of fruit on her bowl. JJ rubs her shoulder. “I know, it’s always the nice ones that get hurt the most.” “I hope that whoever did this, I hope they rot……..in HELL!” She lashed out, unknowingly stabbing her meal with a fork. 

“OH shit, someone needs a visit from Dr. Phil.”

“I’m NOT fucking around!” Kate slams her hands on the table, startling everyone in the cafeteria. “Uh Kate, yo-” “I-I think I need some fresh air.” She slowly got up from the table and walked out.

“Guys, until Rossi comes around shouldn’t we be coming up with theories, finding suspects, finding clues? Something?” Luke asked.

“Why? You got something?” Tara asked him.

“Well maybe we can go back to square one. Look at the CCTVs and see who was last to talk to or at least see Stephen. Or at the very least, see if someone was following him around campus.” 

“We do know that the page from Rossi’s journal was found in Stephen’s car. Which means that he must’ve had the journal with him.” “That’s still not enough, it’s possible that he did have the journal. We don’t know why he would steal it?”

“The car….” Emily pondered. “It’s possible and I hate to say this but…..this accident must’ve been staged.”

“You mean someone planned this on purpose?” Derek asked.

She glared at him. “Yeah I mean, it’s just an assumption-” She was interrupted by Kate, who had just returned after storming the place. “Sorry about that, I just had to clear my head. What did I miss?” “Emily thinks that someone planned Stephen’s accident.”

“And I mean there is one more thing we can consider guys. Maybe Stephen didn’t have the journal. Maybe whoever planned the accident planted the page from Rossi’s journal. I mean, consider this. If this wasn’t planned, then why would there be a page from Rossi’s journal perfectly layed on the front seat? And where would he even be going if he was part of this? The cabin is easily walking distance of the campus. And the car would leave tracks in the dirt, which could make the car identifiable.” Marissa points out.

“You know you talk too much, no offense.” Elle glares at her.

“None taken, but you may want to get an invisalign for them crooked ass teeth you got Elle. No offense.”

Elle gives a cold stare at Marissa as she sips her drink while everyone else consider the possibility of Marissa’s theory.

“As much as this little banter is annoying as it is, Marissa does have a point. It’s possible that whoever has Rossi’s journal is trying to evade arrest and what better way of doing that than to put the blame on someone else...Stephen.” Hotch responds.

“Does anyone here know Stephen a little? Or at least someone you know that knows him? Like maybe his best friend! If we can find his best friend, maybe we can see if he has any enemies.”

“Well, Haley knows……” Ashley responds. “I saw them do a play together.”

“Hotch, aren’t you and Haley dating?” Says Matt.

Hotch glares at him. “Y-yes….and?”

“Maybe there could be a way you could ask her somehow without letting her know about the situation.” Hotch grunts under his breath, while everyone snicker around themselves. “Fine…...but you are coming with me.” “Dammit, why?”

“Because you came up with this idea in the first place. So you’re coming with me and you’re gonna like it.”

Matt groans. “Fine.”

“Meanwhile,” Hotch addresses the team. “Can you hack into the CCTVs again Garcia? Without getting caught, of course?”

“I can..” Garcia gives him a thumbs up.

“Good the rest of you stay here and look for more clues through the cameras and talk to any people you can without raising suspicion. Garcia, I also give you the go ahead to look through texts and phone calls if you need to. Good luck everyone.”

Hotch and Matt leave to find Haley while everyone else try to find more evidence and clues.

“We still don’t know how this all connects to Rossi, like what’s the endgame here?” Ashley asked.

“Best conclusion right now is since Rossi used to be a fed, this could be someone he put away, or their loved ones.” Emily responds.

“I guess so.” 

“If only Rossi was here.” Luke thought. “I wonder where he is?”

“Safe? Hopefully?” Kate shrugged her shoulders.

“Hopefully.”

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

   A few hours later, the group decided to part ways while continuing to solve the mystery behind Stephen’s accident. 

“I can’t believe it.” Emily paused, still overwhelmed from what Garcia just found on her computer. “I-I” 

“Well, if what Garcia found is true, then is could change everything.” Tara rubs Emily’s shoulder. “We should tell Hotch and Matt about this.”

“I know…...but for now, I just wanna relax.” She grabs her hand and slowly swings it. “With you.”

Tara smiled. “Well, we could do that at the lounge.” The two walked together through the halls only to be stopped by an unexpected visitor. “Mom?” She gasped, pulling her hand out from Tara’s. “Emily.” Elizabeth gives a sincere smile. “And you must be?”

“Oh, I’m Tara, Tara Lewis.” “Nice to meet you.” The two shook hands.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked.

“I uh…..” She looked at Tara before turning her focus back on her daughter. “I think it’s better if we’d discuss this privately.” “Oh.” She looked over to her girlfriend. “T-” “It’s okay Emily, I’ll see you at the lounge.” She nods before leaving the halls. “She seems like a nice girl. Are you two friends?” “Uh, yea, guess so. What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“I’ll tell you, but first let’s head somewhere private.”

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

 Elsewhere JJ and Ashley had just returned from their respective classes and were walking outside the courtyard while pondering over the aftermath of Stephen’s accident.

“Any word from Hotch or Matt?” “Not yet, though Matt texted me that they would wait after dress rehearsal is over so that they could talk to her.” “That’s cool. You’ll think they’ll get something from her?”

“Hopefully. I just hope that they, Hotch especially are careful in getting info from her.” Ashley raised an eyebrow. “Why so?” “Cause if Haley finds out that her own boyfriend is interrogating her about her friend’s accident, the only info we’ll get is that he got dumped.” The two girls laughed at the thought of Hotch being dumped in a ridiculous manner, though as they continued to walk, they witnessed several students whispering amongst themselves, slightly louder than inside the cafeteria, but still mostly quiet. 

“Well this just got a bit weird.”

“You don’t think they’re talking about us, are they?” Ashley asked as she noticed some of the students giving them ugly glares at them.

“Not exactly.” They are joined by Elle who was sitting by a bench. “They’re a bit aghast that two girls happen to be laughing out loud the day after a student got into a coma.” “I see.”

“Although, I’ve managed to overhear a few whispers but…” She stood up, leaning over to say something to her friends. “I could’ve sworn that they mentioned Rossi a few times.” “What?” “Yeah, like I’ve heard at least seven students mention him, even from those that don’t even have him as a professor.” “What did they say?”   

 “T-” “That your poor poor professor is a big phony.” The girls were suddenly joined by Meadows and her posse of friends. 

“Well look who decided to show up?” JJ rolled her eyes. “Whatever it is, save it. Cause I’ll make sure Garcia knows what kind of person you really are.” “Aw.” Meadows pouts. “Why so defensive ‘Gigi’? You know it’s true.”

“Don’t call me Gigi, you goddamn bitch!”

“Yeah Meadows, what’s your fucking problem?” Elle adds.

“OH come on, old man Rossi deserves what’s coming to him. Why do you think he disappears everytime something bad happens here? It doesn’t matter how good of a teacher he is. He’s a disgrace.”

“How dare you say that about him!”

“Yeah Rossi is a good man.” “Really Ashley, you’re siding with them.” Meadows crossed her arms. “Guess I should’ve known you were all just Rossi’s little pets.” “Please, don’t do thi-” “Why? So you could protect your pathetic friends a-” She was suddenly grabbed from the wrist by JJ.

“Take that back, you bitch!”

She scowls at her. “Fuck you you stupid slut.”

JJ lifts her arm, only for Elle to pull it down.

“Leave her, she’s not worth it.” Meadows smiled at the little exchange. “That’s right, go listen to your little girlfriend.” She and her friends snicker and walk away, only for Elle to mutter something under her breath.

“Skank.” “What?” She turned around. “What did you just say?” “S K A N K!”

She and her lackeys march up to them. “Take that back.” Vanessa, one of Meadows friends snarled at Elle. “Okay, I will, if your friend here takes back all those things she said about our professor.” Meadows walks up to her and smiles. Elle raised her eyebrow as she opens her mouth, instead of words, she was stunned after getting hit with a splat of spit on her eye. The girls all gasped, where Meadows’ friends all laughed at her.

“Y-you” “What’s wrong? I did what you asked.” Ashley hands a tissue to Elle while JJ confronts Meadows. “Meadows what the he-” Before she could finish, she too was also hit from her spit, feeling the stickiness from her face.

“And those are for all those things I said about Garcia. Though no words could never be as ugly as she was-” Out of nowhere, JJ slapped Meadows right in the face, much to the utter shock from everyone outside. Meadows managed to pull herself up, rubbing her cheek while staring at JJ dead in the eye.

“You bitch.” “I-I-” Meadows lunged right at JJ, tugging her head while she screams. As she tries to resist, Meadows punches her in the face, causing her to fall down. After recovering, she lifted her arm up, grabbing Meadows by the collar and dragged her to the ground. The two wrestled it on the grass, taking turns slapping, kicking, scratching, even pulling each other’s hair. The other students looked on in anticipation as the two girls continue to attack each other, watching as JJ slams Meadows against the dirt. Amidst the chaos, both Elle and Ashley run out, trying to contact the others regarding the scene.

 At the same time, Garcia was not far from the scene in which she saw a group of students swarming one area of the quad. Curious, she goes to see what’s happening, only to witness the sight of JJ pinning Meadows to the ground.

“Woah woah woah!” She screamed, the students all stopped as the open a path to Garcia. She then rushed to the sight of her two friends, whom have both pulled out from fighting, shocked to see her presence.

“What the hell is going on? Why are the two of you fighting?! You know I hate seeing my two best friends fight!”

“Garcia, I could explain-” “Oh Garcia!” Meadows rushed to grab her hands. “Oh you don’t know how relieved I was. She did it!” She points at JJ. “She’s the one who started the fight!” “What?! Me?!” “It is true JJ?” She shook her head. “N-no Garcia, I didn’t-” “Liar, liar! Don’t believe her. All I did was try to talk to her about Stephen and then she called me a bitch and tackled me to the ground.”

“Is this true?” Garcia’s voice gotten stern.

JJ shook her head. “N-no, it’s not true-” “And oh!” Meadows looked as the large tear on her skirt. “She even ripped my dress, my favorite dress!” She hugs Garcia before pulling up, and lifting her arm up. “And look at this scratch she gave me.” JJ stood up and watched as Garcia gasped while Meadows sobs over the rather small cut on her arm. She was then nervous as Garcia turn to give her a harsh glare at her.

“Garcia, I-” “How could you do this JJ?! Mary is my friend and you did this, you you back-stabbing bitch!”

“Please please.” She stammered. “I didn’t mean t-” “Shut up JJ! Don’t ever talk or come to me or my friends ever again!”

“B-but!” She tries to grabs her hand, only get slapped in the face by her now former friend.

“Stay the hell away from me, J.” She spits on her before walking away. She then grabs Meadows hand. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

“Thanks.” While the two walk away, Meadows turns back to give JJ a smug smile, much to her frustration. Devastated, JJ collapsed on her knees breaking down into tears just when Elle returned from the scene.

“JJ what happened? Where’s Meadows?”

“S-she left, with Garcia.” “With Garcia?” She nods. “Mm hmph. Garcia saw it, the whole fight, and she’s mad. S-she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.” With that, she collapsed into tears. Regretting that she was not able to help JJ when Garcia arrived, Elle bent down and hugged JJ, comforting her. “I’m sorry, I should have stayed.” She lets her friend rest her head on her shoulder as she continues to cry. “She’ll reach out to you.” “No she won’t, not anymore.” “Yes she will, I promise.”

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

“No, absolutely not.”

“Sweetheart, this was only for your own good.” 

“Mom.” Emily complained. “You’ve asked the dean to file a leave of absence behind my own back. Without telling me. How is that good?”

“Well to be fair, you seemed to have a genuine dislike when you first set foot at this place.” “That was before, but now…...it’s different.” She raised an eyebrow. “What made you change your mind?”

She stammered. “I-uh-I, a lot of things.” “I see.” She paused as she looked down on her daughter. “Still, I think it’s best that you leave this place immediately.” “Why?” Her mom glared at her. “After what? Two murders and another student in a coma, you think I’m gonna let my own daughter stay here and risk endangerment? I don’t think so.” “I have friends here, I’m not leaving them.” “Well, you can always make new friends at Oxford.” “But it won’t be the same.” “So, it’s not l-”

“Listen, I’m staying here mom, whether you like it or not.” She crossed her arms. “And that is final.” “Oh.” She then hands her a piece of paper. “Well, here’s the form incase you changed your mind…...but don’t bother calling me for help should you ever find yourself in a sticky situation.”

Emily snatches the paper from her mother’s hand and watched as she slams the door behind her. She then unfolds the piece of paper, reading it and sighs. She was now worried on what to say to her friends, especially Tara.

       A few minutes later, Tara was at the lounge reading a magazine. She heard a couple of footsteps approaching her, placing the magazine down when she sees Emily sitting down across from her.

“Hey, nice to finally join.”

“Sorry about the delay.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad that you’re finally here.” “So am I.” Emily stared down at the table.

“So what happened?” “Huh?” “Why did your mom wanted to speak to you?” “She….” She tapped her fingers on the table. “She gave me an offer to switch to another school.” “Why?” “Well, after everything that has happened so far, she thought that this place was no longer safe for me to continue my studies here.” “I see.” Tara rest her back against the chair. “I can’t blame her for wanting to protect her own daughter.” “Yeah well…..I told her no.” “Why?”

She hesitated. “Because I didn’t want to leave my friends, especially you. You and all of my friends are the reason I care about this place…..and Rossi, he needs us. I can’t turn my back on him when he needs us, especially now.” “Well, what did your mom say?” “She said that she accepts my decision, and it’s cool.” “You sure? Cause going by that long face of yours, it seemed like you both part in ill terms.” “Well, she said that if something else happens and I get involved, she won’t try to help me out anymore.” “Ouch, I’m sorry.” “It’s whatever, not like she even tried to help me. All the times she did, it was only to help herself, make herself look good. Cause she’s an ambassador and one small mistake and oh no, scandal. Too bad she doesn’t even bother understanding how I feel, how hard she can be on me sometimes.” “Well…” She rubs her hand. “She’s a mom, just wanting what’s best.” “I guess.” “She might not understand you, but I do.” 

“Thanks.”

“But I do hope that you patch things up with her.” “Why so?” “Despite your differences, she’s still your mom, you’ll never know what life throws at the two of you. I know I didn’t when I lost my mom.” “Yeah…...maybe….just not right now.”

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

“Are you sure about this?” Kate asked. “I mean you haven’t told the gang about this yet.”

“Well, I mean there’s nothing wrong in trusting her. After all, she is a friend of Rossi.”  Marissa responds. She then pats Reid on the shoulder. “What do you think, Spence?”

He continued to stare at the door in front of them. Not bothering to turn to his friend and girlfriend, he walks up, knocking at the door.

“Why hello there.” The door opens, revealing Blake. “What can I do for the three of you.” “W-we have a few things to share, about Rossi, and Stephen.” “Okay.” She paused. “But can this wait a little later? I got some work I need to d-” “Also, we did some online research and....” Reid leans over to whisper to Blake. “Do you know anything about someone known as ‘The Replicator?’“ 

She hesitated at first, but the three students noticed that the name brought a chill down her spine, indicating that she knew who Reid was referring to. 

“Come on in.” She responds, allowing the three to enter before looking around outside and closing the door shut

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

    Somewhere at the campus center, Courtney was exiting the art studio, parting ways with her friends and classmates after finishing a painting for her Intro to Color class and was making her way back to the dorms when she sees JJ standing. She was too hyperfocused on seeing the blonde hastily pressing her phone, muttering Garcia’s name and getting all frustrated whenever she hears it go on voicemail. It was only when she felt a tug on her friend’s shoulder that she shifts her focus on her friends.

“Hey, is something up?” She shook her head. “No, I-I uh.” She glanced at JJ. “Sorry, I was just feeling a bit tired. I’ll uh catch up with you guys tomorrow, okay?” “Okay.” Her friends part ways as she walked over to JJ. “Uh, excuse me-”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She nearly jumped when seeing Courtney tap her shoulder. “Courtney.” “JJ, am I right?” “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Are you okay?” “Yeah.” She shrugged her hand. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” “I don’t know, you seemed a bit distressed, seeing how you were trying to get a hold of Garcia. Is something wrong?” “I-”

Courtney grabbed her hand. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

JJ shook her head. “I don’t know.” “Please, if it’s about Garcia, trust me, I can help.” She hesitated at first, but seeing how sincere she was and knowing that she was Garcia’s roommate, she nods. “Okay, but let’s go somewhere private.” “Okay.”   A few minutes later, they head to a cafe, JJ rest her head against the table as Courtney hands her a croissant and a cup of coffee.

“So, what’s up with you and Garcia?” “We got into this huge fight.”

“You and Garcia got into a fight?” “N-no. Technically, it was me and Meadows. She said some rude things about Rossi and my friends and them humiliated me and my friend Elle.”

“How so?” “.......she spat on us.” Courtney scrunched her nose. “Ew. I’m guessing you retaliated.” JJ nods. “Yes, I did…….I slapped her.”

“Oh…” She gasped.

“And that’s when the fight happens….unfortunately, Garcia saw us and….Meadows. She blamed the whole thing on me….that I started the whole fight and that I hurt her when it was in fact the other way around.” Her eyes start to water as she continued. “I-I tried to reason with Garcia b-but, she wouldn’t listen to me anymore. She believed Meadows and lashed out on me, thinking that the whole thing was my fault.  And now, I’m no longer her friend.” She whimpered. “It’s sad because all this time, I was nice to her, cared about her and defended her from bullies and now, she won’t even talk to me.” She shed a few tears while Courtney hands her some tissues. “I’m sorry.” “Oh no, don’t be…..” “Thanks…” “You know I’d hate to see someone as sweet as you cry.” She grabbed JJ’s hand. “I know you got a heart J, if only Garcia knew that you truly care about her.” “Well, not anymore. She’d rather rely on a girl like Meadows than me.” “Well, you got a point. She may be a bit ditsy but she has a way of meeting people.” “I guess.” She frowns. “Hey, I know we were never really close, and I may not know much about your relationship with my roommate, but I believe you JJ. I really do.”

“I’m glad someone does.” “Well, give Garcia some time…..eventually, she’ll give you another chance. She’s rarely the one to hold grudges for so long.” JJ sighs. “I hope so too.”

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

Matt was exhausted, today had brought a lot of new questions that had no answers, whom was a lot to cope with. Gym was really one of the only places where he could really let loose, even if it was only for an hour and a half. It was his way to get away from reality for a bit. As he walks to his gym class, he has a bit of spring in his step. Just the thought of playing basketball with Luke and Derek and having fun was putting a smile on his face. He was practically glowing as he walked into the boys’ locker room as he walks towards Derek and Luke, greeting them with a smile.

“Sup.” “Oooooo.”

“What, what’s going on here?”

“I know that look…” The two guys rushed to their friend. “So what happened?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

Luke sighs. “Haley, did you and Hotch talked to her?”

“We did.” “And?”

“And what? Nothing much happened, we got a little info but nothing groundbreaking.”

“That’s it? That’s boring.” Derek groans. “Oh, I’m sorry that i wasn’t able to get some juicy deets on their relationship.”  

“Damn….and to think that I was hoping for a little something from them.” Both Luke and Matt had some bemused faces at Derek’s response.

“Well it’s not like I can say ‘Hey guys, make out right in front of me so I can go gossip to Luke and Derek about it!’ I’m pretty sure Hotch would punch the shit out of me.”

The two laughed. “Relax bro, we won’t tell him.” “Though it’d be pretty funny to see Hotch get all hot and bothered. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t done the deed with her yet.”

“Will you guys quit it?” “Come on Matt, I’m just saying, to see Hotch flustered would be………………….. Legendary!!”

He scoffs. “Ugh, and to think, you two made it to college.” He muttered as he opens his locker.

“Okay Matt, don’t think we’re that stupid.”

“What do you mean Derek?”

“Come one man! The party! You left HOOOOUUUUURRRSSS earlier. You barely stayed for two and a half hours AND left with Kristy. We know you two did the deed already!”

“Oh.” He groaned while trying to get dressed. “So what if I left the party with her? We’re already dating.”

“Yet you’re crashing on us for commenting on Hotch’s relationship. HA! Matt you can’t defend yourself here hahaha!”

“It’s his choice to disclose his relationship, not mine. How would you feel if Luke decided to tell me, Hotch and Reid about you and Savannah that night after the party?”

“Whhhhaaaaaaatttttt?? What do you mean?”

“Wait, you and Savannah?” Luke raised an eyebrow at his roommate.

“I have no idea what you are talking about? I know no one by that name.”

“Really Derek? Really?” “Take it easy Luke, he’s trying to mess with us.” Matt continues to dress. “Besides, all that happened was that she and Stephen were friends and he stopped by to ask for advice on this girl he was asking out.”

“Kate!” They all shout, referring to the girl Stephen was gonna go out with.

“Yeah……” Matt tugs on his shirt. “Anyway, I’m starving, you guys wanna get a bite?”

“Sure.”

“Where to?”

“I’m thinking maybe a quick bite down at the diner?”

“Sure, that sounds nice.” Matt closed his locker door. “Be right back.” 

“Okay, hurry though man, we’re starving!” Both Derek and Luke complained while Matt leaves to finish cleaning up by the sink. As they wait, they noticed Matt left his bag on the ground. Curious, Derek decides to take a peek.

“Derek, what are yo-”

“What?” He glares at him. “What could possibly go wrong? I just want to see if there’s anything in here I can tease him for.” Derek laughed. He zipped open the bag, digging through some of his friend’s belongings. “Find anything?”

“Nope, noth- Oh my god.”

“What is it? Did you find something?”

Luke watched as Derek pulls out a small book.

“Is that a journal?” 

“It’s not just any journal man! This is Rossi’s journal!”

“Oh come, that can’t be.” “No, look at this. There’s a page ripped out right here. Along with a few more pages!”

“My god.” Luke muttered. “I wonder why Matt has that in his bag?” Just as Derek could answer, they suddenly heard Matt coming back.

“Hey guys have you seen my-” They look up to see Matt catching them snoop in his bag, and gasps when he sees them holding Rossi’s journal.

“Dude, what the HELL are you doing with this?!” Derek’s attitude shifted from being all jokingly to a more stern tone.

“What are you guys talking about- have you been looking through my bag?!!”

“That’s not the point here! You don’t get to ask the questions here!” Derek throws the journal down. “WHY THE HELL IS ROSSI’S JOURNAL IN YOUR GYM BAG!!”

“What?!” Matt gives him an exasperated look. “Don’t what us! Now we know who’s responsible for Stephen’s accident.” “What the fuck Derek, I did not start that accident.”

“Why so defensive Matt? Are we getting close?”

“NO! I-I, Okay, someone start from square one. HOW THE HELL DID YOU FIND THE DAMN JOURNAL?”

Luke crossed his arms. “I-I don’t know man, you tell us.” “Luke, not you too.” “I’m sorry Matt, it’s just that Rossi needed that journal and a page of his was found in Stephen’s car and now all of a sudden, the journal suddenly appears in your bag.” “Please.” Matt begged. “You have to believe me guys! I didn’t do anything!”

“Matt, we want to believe you b-b-”

“Bullshit. Shut up Luke! We all know you’re full of shit. You lied to all of us! So make this easy on yourself and all of us. Who are you working with and why?”

“N-no one okay!!! No one!!!” “Liar!” Derek slams Matt against the gym lockers again. “TELL US!!”

“I’m fucking serious, I don’t work for anyone.”

“Derek please…” Luke begged, brushing his shoulder. “Can we not make a scene here? Can’t we just settle this down the right way?” “I see.” Derek sighs, he turns to Matt, whom was still pleading for his innocence. “Luke..” “Yes?” “Take out your phone, the team will want to know about this.”

“But w-” “Just do it. Also, while you’re at it, call Rossi as well.” He turns to Matt. “I want them to know what this traitor has done.”

Although hesitant, Luke sighs, pulling out his phone and texting everyone to meet at the conference room on the other side of the campus. Now.”

“Not so tough are you, Matt.” Derek taunts him.

“Screw you Derek. You’ll see I have nothing to do with this.”

“We’ll see about that.” He grabs Matt’s arm, dragging him along to the other side of the campus to the meeting spot.

#elle greenaway #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #tara lewis #emily prentiss #derek morgan #matt simmons #luke alvez #spencer reid #alex blake #ashley seaver #kate callahan #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #the good ol days