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starletgirlie · 3 years

Text

glasses;

bucky barnes x reader

part one ⸺ part two ⸺ part three

Summary: nothing could put F.R.I.D.A.Y back online, not even Tony

Word count: 770

Warnings: curse words

Author's note: someone in the comments of the part 1 gave me the ideia to write a part 2, thank you so much, i really appreciated!

english it’s not my first language so I’m deeply sorry for any mistakes or inconveniences. xoxo, lola

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ten days.

ten fucking days.

that is how long F.R.I.D.A.Y was offline, and nothing seems to work.

When completed 3 days that the AI was having problems, Tony dropped his vacation and went directly to the compound, since then you two have been working non-stop trying to fix her.

The lab was a mess. dirty coffee mugs, dirty plates, and mathematical equations literally everywhere but no one was brave enough to say anything. you and tony were on the brink of collapse.

After seven days the lack of sleep was destroying you two. when pepper convinced tony to take a break, bucky almost kissed her, he was trying to do that for a long time now but you were too stubborn to even consider.

Tony was already out of the lab when bucky arrived, when he looked at you he felt his heart breaking a bit. you were a complete mess.

For the first time in a long period, you faced something that you weren’t able to fix, and that was crashing you. you’ve always been a fixer. since you were a little girl you would fix things around your house, and bucky knew that, he knew every little thing about you.

“I’m dead” you commented when your boyfriend entered the lab “I prepared a bath for you, go while the water still warm” you planted a soft kiss on bucky’s lips “I love you too” he responded with a smirk crossing his face.

While you were trying to relax in the bathtub bucky was cleaning the lab. taking the dirty dishes to the kitchen, organizing the snack bags that could be found anywhere, and gathering all the paper sheets with notes and equations. that was his way of showing he cares, running baths, and cleaning your mess.

Bucky was used to your mess. you could be very methodical but when you would start to brainstorm, organization wasn’t one of your first priorities and soon bucky noticed that not even clothes.

You walked into the lab with a towel wrapped around your body while on the phone with Tony. Natasha and Steve stood behind you trying to understand what the fuck was going on

“i don’t have time to explain to you, just come to the compound, RIGHT NOW” you hang up before he could respond.

“now is okay to walk around naked?” nat said handing you some clothes that she grabbed in your room when she saw you getting out of the bathroom to the elevator “thanks, nat” bucky looked at you, he was very confused.

“i think i know what is wrong with F.R.I.D.A.Y” he was waiting for you to finish but steve interrupted you.

“kid, go put on your clothes and we’ll help you with everything we can” you nod and went to the bathroom.

leaving the room you noticed how clean the lab was comparing with how you left it. you made a quick note to thank bucky later.

“so, where do we start?” Steve asked

“Remember that 2 weeks ago Dr. Banner accidentally removed all the security softwares of all the compound tech? F.R.I.D.A.Y is attached to the compound now. she got exposed to some kind of malware that probably has rewritten her code” tony arrives, he is sweating and pepper is trying to calm him down

“what you got for me, kid?” he ignored everyone else in the room

“We gotta reprogram F.R.I.D.A.Y, her codes were rewritten. we cant turn it on because we are using the wrong codes” tony looked confused for a sec but he quickly understood all

“But how? No one can’t break the F.R.I.D.A.Y security system”

“that’s the thing, no one broke it. they were deactivated by mistake” just like tony you were nervous as hell.

“you think she got exposed 2 weeks ago?”

“im 100% sure, it all makes sense”

“let’s do it then.” you two sit on your desks, AC/CD was blasting through the lab speakers.

everybody watched your moves with so much attention and when you shouted “done” they all stood quietly

“you do the honors, kid” you stood up and called for the AI

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” tony almost cried when the robotic voice responded, “yes, Miss Y/L/N?”

"god, you're amazing" bucky shouted, his voice contained a lot of pride, and he wanted to show everyone how proud he was of you.

all the avengers in the lab cheered, they were all proud of you

©deadivyy

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sillyguyhotline · 3 years

Note

17. “How is any of this ok?” with Joe and Sara maybe?

dude im gonna be completely honest i havent written anything in like a month so i think the quality isnt gonna be great but here goes nothing

God, Sara missed the feeling of home.

Every semblance of familiarity and comfort she’d once found in the town she’d grown up in, the house she’d spent her childhood running through, now felt chillingly foreign.

Perhaps it was the heavy burden of knowledge weighing fresh upon her shoulders: ASUNARO’s corruption seemed now to peer slyly around every corner, no matter where she went. She still didn’t know how much of the town had rotted away under its grasp, how much of the town its poison had pervaded… but she was probably better off not knowing.

Whatever was left of Midori, that miserable mix of pulsing blood and electronic emotion, had been ground to bits inside that coffin… but Sara couldn’t ignore the creeping fear that his burning, ever-present gaze would appear out of nowhere and terrorize her again.

But he wouldn’t. The death game was over, and they’d promised they would never hurt her or any of her loved ones again.

Most of the loved ones she still encountered day-to-day, gruesomely blood splattered and sitting like corpses propped up hastily in a corner, would be safe no matter if ASUNARO was fresh on her tail or a thousand miles away. What a cruel price to pay for safety, to never be hurt again.

They still lived on if Sara closed her eyes tight enough, if she listened to the twisting words of the hallucinations and let them convince her she was monstrous. But the second she dared to open her eyes, she knew they’d be dead again. Life worked in terrible ways, and that was all there was to it.

Joe’s house had always been a second home to her, ever since the two of them became friends. Joe was the farthest cry from Sara in terms of social interactions- it had taken at least 3 months for Sara to trust Joe enough to invite him over, but Joe had insisted she hang out at his house the very same day they became friendly enough to exchange more than a sentence with each other.

There was a certain sort of comfort to the warmth of his house, the constant scent of cooking food pervading the air and the little trinkets scattered in every corner. No surface of his house went without decoration, in its silly little way. It was full of pictures, too, some carefully framed and some dangling from the wall by pushpins, but Sara got the sense that none of the photos went unloved. Most of them were occupied by an orange-haired man, often carrying a younger Joe (back when he was still sporting that atrocious crew cut). Sara always assumed it was his dad, but thought it would be impolite to ask… particularly when the weeks stretched on and Sara had yet to meet that mysterious orange-haired man.

Eventually, pictures of Sara began to join the collage on the wall- pictures taken as she butchered yet another pop song during karaoke, or when they went out to get food, or when she mistakenly sat down on a traffic cone during gym (after many protests from Sara, he took that one down). As silly as the pictures were, and as obvious as it was that Joe had waited for the most embarrassing moments to take them, it was sort of sweet in a way.

Joe’s mother was always kind to her, though there was a constant weariness in her eyes that Sara always felt a bit uneasy about questioning. Sometimes she’d let the two of them cook things in the kitchen, but more often than not they’d go up to Joe’s room and screw around in there, with video games or music or the 50 times Joe tried to persuade Sara to climb out the window and sit on the roof with him before she finally agreed.

As rare as it was for Sara to agree to sit on the roof, it was even rarer for Joe to agree to study with her, much to Sara’s chagrin. Joe had always walked a fine line between passing and failing, but Sara had to admit he walked it well. When she did manage to convince him to study, though (usually the day before final exams), they’d sit on the cushy couch in his living room and somehow manage to bother each other as much as possible while feigning concentration.

The couch hadn’t changed after several years- Sara could tell that much the minute she sat down on it and avoided the urge to break eye contact with Joe’s mother. It was still well-worn, a couch that likely should have been replaced at least a decade ago but had never really been disposed of. Loose threads were protruding from the cover, drawn out from years of visitors fidgeting with them.

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the slight motion making her sink deeper into the couch’s soft cushioning. She’d only spent one minute in the house and was already sweating, whether from the heat of the home or the thousand-yard stare of the woman sitting across from her.

Ryoko was there, too, sitting to Sara’s left and gazing listlessly at the well-trodden carpet beneath her feet. …Ryoko.

Sara cast a hesitant glance around the room, duly noting the photos covering the walls. Not a single one of hers had been taken down, but several more photos had appeared with Joe’s beaming face featuring prominently in them. Joe’s presence was always enough to fill a room even when he wasn’t speaking; it took a lot to fill in the gaps left by his absence.

God, she missed him.

The wind whistled against the window-screen; Sara had memorized the familiar creak of the wooden window frame being lifted up to welcome in the mild autumn air. Sara had always thought of autumn as a beginning- she loved summer as much as any other kid, but as the haze of the weather began to wind down she was quick to grow impatient and look forward to the school year, to being productive again. Joe had always disagreed with her.

“Fall is the literal death of fun,” he’d complained once, walking home with Sara after finishing the first week of school. “Couldn’t they have pushed back the first day of school by, like, another week? You think if we got enough people to sign a petition, they’d give us an extra week of summer?”

“Oh, come on, we both know even if you had an extra week of summer you’d just be complaining a week later,” Sara had teased back.

The death of fun. It certainly felt like that, Sara decided. She’d never feared the looming darkness of fall and winter quite so much before. But now, she supposed, there was no sunshine who’d weather it with her.

“Well… Sara?” Joe’s mother spoke up, voice hoarse with the sound of repressed tears in her throat. Sara recognized the sound all too well.

There was no resentment in the woman’s eyes when Sara made eye contact with her. No anger, no frustration, nor had there been any in her measured motions when she welcomed Sara into the home. It didn’t take any words for Sara to tell that there was no blame to be foisted upon her.

She was still Joe’s best friend.

“I’m sorry to have dragged you out here on such short notice.” The woman’s voice was weak. “I don’t know all the details of what happened, of course. Haven’t heard anything, aside from the little tidbits the police told me when I dropped by the station.”

Sara’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of the police, at the idea of them pleasantly answering her questions as though they weren’t just as complicit in that tragedy as ASUNARO had been.

“And…” the woman glanced down at her hands, toughened from a lifetime of working. “I know something terrible happened to you. The circles under your eyes are darker than midnight, I know it’s so selfish of me to be dragging you out here, but… I haven’t slept a wink for weeks. Been so worried about Joe, and about you too.”

She nodded in the direction of the black-haired girl who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time. “Ryoko’s been worried about the both of you, too. Your parents weren’t answering the door, so she went to me. I hope you’ll forgive the two of us for disturbing you, Sara, but… you have the answers the police won’t give us, don’t you?”

God, her gaze was piercing.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

It was taking everything in Sara’s power not to look at the vacant seat to her right. If Joe was there, he would have been laughing and lightening the mood, completing the circle that had been left so jarringly empty.

But they wouldn’t have been having this conversation if Joe was there.

Ms. Tazuna nodded slowly. “This means the world to me, Sara. Don’t forget that.”

Sara did her best to muster a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The woman gave another nod, eyes defocusing as though even now, she wasn’t quite sure why she was there. “Alright. Alright. Well, then…” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Guess I should get right to the point, yeah? Is he… is… how is he…?”

So she still hadn’t quite let go of that little thread of hope, even after seeing Sara return home safe and alive with no best friend in tow. Who was Sara to judge? When hope was the only thing to cling to, it only made sense to cling to it like a lifeline.

Sara twisted her hands, the same old nervous habit she’d had for years, and wondered briefly if she’d picked it up from Ms. Tazuna. How terrible it was, to carry the news that nobody, much less any mother, ever wanted to hear.

“I… I’m sorry, Ms. Tazuna. He didn’t make it out alive.”

Sara hadn’t expected the hush that immediately fell over the room. She’d expected immediate tears, the grieving cry of a mother in pain. Instead, the room became muffled, still as a painting captured in time.

Slowly, Ryoko looked up from her bitten-down fingers, eyes rimmed red already. Ryoko had always been an emotional person, the only person Sara knew who could fluctuate from full-on sobs to cheerful giggles in less than a minute. Sara was so unused to the look that was now filling her eyes- cold, solid misery. As though there were no tears in her eyes left to cry, no more tragedies to bemoan. Just a deep and horrified comprehension of just how many things in her life had gone wrong.

And, slowly, Ms. Tazuna began to cry.

Tears had become so uncomfortable for Sara to bear witness to. Was it selfish of her to look away? It couldn’t be, not when every raw sob reminded her of the art student seeing her first (and certainly not last) death, of the broken sibling openly weeping over apologies gone unspoken, of the unknowing siblings screaming their throats out with pleas for death so the other could survive.

Especially not now. Not when every tear rang in her mind as a reminder of cold tubes piercing her best friend’s chest, of his corpse slumping and falling in a pool of blood, because oh god he wasn’t supposed to have lost so much blood, how was he supposed to live without it, of the clickclickclickclickclicking rising in volume while her attempts to save him grew feebler and feebler.

Her hands were bloodstained, no matter how many times she tried to scrub them clean. Those dreadful hands of hers had failed her, failed Joe, failed the women sobbing openly in front of her.

She swallowed back the apologies that always rose in her throat as Ms. Tazuna rushed to sniffle back her tears.

“I… god, I… he’s really gone?”

Sara couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please… please tell me it was a peaceful death. He didn’t… suffer too much, did he?”

The resounding wave of clicks flooded her mind. “It was as peaceful as I could make it. I… he smiled at me, right before he died. I’d… very much like to think that means he was happy when he died.”

“What happened?” Ryoko’s voice came out rough, the first of it Sara had heard in weeks. “Joe told me, after our date, that he was going to walk you home, and then neither of you showed up at school the next day. And now… it’s been three weeks? And Joe… Joe’s dead? What the hell happened, Sara?”

“God,” Sara mumbled, mesmerizing herself with the twisting motions of her own hands. “I’m not sure if you’d even believe me if I told you. I don’t even know if I believe what happened myself.”

“I’d believe anything.” The sentence was firm. “I just want to know what happened.”

Sara nodded wearily. The familiar weight of her bright orange ponytail was notably missing- the day after she’d escaped, she’d demanded the hairdresser cut her hair short and crisp. She shuddered every time she thought about the ponytail brushing against her neck as she spent each argument screaming and protesting for her life. Even worse was the memory of how carefully Joe had styled her hair, forsaking his usual clumsiness to braid every strand with a remarkable tenderness. She didn’t want to remember any of it- even though, as the locks went cascading to the floor, she was reminded starkly of Keiji’s bleach-stained trauma response.

“For some reason, something to do with the mafia, we were kidnapped. And pulled into a death game. There were twenty of us, including me and Joe. I- I’m not going to get into all the specifics. It’s going to make me sick to my stomach if I do. But… they made us play this sadistic fucking game to narrow down the competition. Based on cards. Joe drew a bad card, and… they executed him.” Something in Sara’s throat tightened as she finished speaking, and she fell silent.

“Just like that?” His mother’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “How… how’d they kill him?”

“I’d rather not say.” There came the gushing sound of blood pulsing through the tubes. “He didn’t suffer too long” - she hoped - “but it was a gruesome way to die. I don’t want to think about it, please understand.”

It took a moment for his mother to register the words and nod, face still painted with horror.

“Why… how did the two of you even end up there in the first place?” Ryoko spoke up again. “You said something about the mafia? How the hell are you two connected with the mafia?”

“I don’t know how I am,” Sara responded immediately. “It must be something with my family. I couldn’t control any of this, I swear, but… Joe wasn’t meant to end up there at all.”

Ryoko paused. “He… he wasn’t meant to end up there?”

Sara swallowed back the lump in her throat. “The game… it was something that was being prepared for ages. There weren’t just a few ragtag kidnappers behind it, there was an entire organization. Even the police were involved. They ran AI tests, hundreds if not thousands of them, trying to calculate who’d be the most likely to win. And… when all the numbers came back, the person most likely to win… was me.”

She spread her arms wide, baring her sins and her cruelties to the world, and in that moment felt distinctly like the angel of death Keiji had branded her to be.

“They needed something to drag me down, I guess. Make the odds more balanced. So they dragged Joe into this fucking mess. I guess they thought that him being there would keep me steady enough to make everything fair.” A cold hand, dripping with tendrils of phantom blood, caressed her chin with a lethal grip. “...They were right.”

Ryoko’s gaze had gone cold again. “So Joe died just because you cared about him? What the fuck kind of death sentence is that?”

Sara shook her head numbly.

“Why did it have to be him?” The heartbreak in Ryoko’s voice was clearer than day. “So many people love you, Sara, why did it have to be him? Hell, I’m your best friend too, aren’t I? Why couldn’t it have been me? I’m a much worse person than Joe ever was, I deserved to be in his place way more. Couldn’t they have killed me instead?”

Sara winced at the growing desperation in her best friend’s voice, the raw crack she knew all too well. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me. Sara could have almost fooled herself into seeing a crisp aquamarine when Ryoko’s hair flashed into the light.

“Ryoko… it could have been.”

The girl fell silent.

“They had files on you too. They knew how close we were, they knew how much you meant to me… but Joe was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they fucking killed him for it.”

Oh, how she wished she could go back to that balmy early-autumn night, see the smile on Joe’s face and listen to his lighthearted laughter again. The desire to keep one’s friend safe had become a crime deserving of a death sentence.

Ryoko’s eyes remained locked to Sara’s, devoid of any dullness. In the look they exchanged was a deep, sinking understanding, one that had nauseated Sara to the core the first time the realization struck her.

It was by no crafty strategy that Joe had died instead of Ryoko, no favoritism biased against the kindest person either of them would ever know. It was a simple, terrible twist of fate. Ryoko could have taken his place had she done something as inconsequential as offering to walk Sara home instead.

But she hadn’t.

It took everything in Sara’s power to avoid wondering what would’ve changed if she had.

“How is any of this okay?” Ryoko broke the silence weakly. “They killed him- they could have killed me, too. He was seventeen. Seventeen. How did anybody let this happen? How did this happen, Sara?”

“I- I don’t know.” Ryoko’s wrath was simmering; even though Sara knew truly that she wasn’t the subject of the anger, she still felt scalded. “I miss him so much, Ryoko. I watched him die, and nothing in my power let me save him. I miss him, Ryoko, I miss him every waking minute of every day. We were supposed to escape together and get out safe and pretend this never happened, but…” the tears were beginning to well up again. She couldn’t bear the thought of breaking down in front of anyone, especially not over him.

“I’m going to go make some coffee,” his mother interrupted suddenly. She’d been noticeably quiet, but the still-fresh streaks of tears painted down her cheeks told the story she didn’t need to vocalize. “Some coffee, and some snacks. And we’ll keep talking from there, alright? Do you guys have your phones?”

The two girls nodded uneasily.

“Please… find any pictures you have of him. I want to make this wall as bright as possible.”

Without any other words, she hurried out of the room, and it fell to silence once more. Outside the window, the cool autumn breeze began to stir the leaves in the air, gusting forward to brush against Sara’s cheek just as the hallucination had done mere minutes ago.

And the Tazuna household began to feel more like home again.

#is this worth publishing to ao3 #idk #gonna put it in the tags im feelin risky tonight #yttd #joe tazuna #sara chidouin #ryoko hirose #joesara #i guess #i just tag anything joesara at this point even if it's not outright romantic #idc whether it's romantic or platonic honestly #theyre them #and thats all that matters

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“I know you, Harry Styles”

Summary: Your boss asks you to quarantine at his house to watch over the place and his dog. He then calls you let you know a friend of his has gotten stuck in Los Angeles and needs a place to stay, so he has offered his friend the home that you are also going to be staying at. His friend is Harry Styles. Harry and you get to know each other while you both navigate through this uncertain time.

I’ve had this idea for awhile and im sorry if it’s a little late now, since strict quarantine has ended (lowkey might be coming back since california has been getting bad again), but still i really liked this and wanted to write it. Also look at how cute this sidelook from Harry is in this gif ^^ :) his nose is so slopey

It hasn’t been the easiest write so no worries if y’all hate it. I might do a part 2, but def no part 3 this time, unless it gets easier to write.

Word Count: 4.5k | Warnings: mentions of quarantine and Coronavirus (pls take care if the situation is triggering to you), language, drinking

Enjoy! (Feedback appreciated as always)

You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to break that bliss of him not knowing you knew. “I,” you took a sip of wine, trying to gather a bit more courage, you then laugh meekly, “I, uh, know what you do.”

“Damn…” he said. Harry also took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the gulp. “I was still debating whether I’d say that I was a musician or an accountant, y’know, something random.” You smiled, Harry was funny, you decided.

“You’d lie to me?” you said, a hint of flirtation behind your words.

“Oh no, never.”

You were living in Los Angeles when the Coronavirus outbreak first arrived in the United States and California went into quarantine. You lived in a pretty small apartment in Silver Lake and you weren’t excited to be cooped in there, alone for at least the two weeks they had just announced. The governor issued that everything would be shut down by morning and you had to admit you were a little stressed. Just as you were about to walk into your apartment and lock the door, ready to shelter in, your boss and friend of yours called.

“Hey Y/N,” David said quickly over the phone, “You know how I’ve just left for England two days ago and I’m already here. Well, since I’m not a U.S. citizen, I can’t come back. Which is fine, but I was just wondering if you’d mind quarantining at my house and just watching over it? Until I can get back?”

You sighed, “Oh my god, David. I’m so sorry.” “The U.S. announced their border closure so strangely, I couldn’t have known...But it’s fine, really, I’m actually kind of happy to be home.” You nodded as if he could see you.

“So do you think you can do it? I’ve been having my neighbor check in on my dog, daily, but I’d prefer a friend to be at the house with him right now.”

“Oh! Yeah of course, I’ll pack a bag and head over right now. I’m honestly relieved you’ve given me this offer. You’re house is fucking huge and my apartment is tiny.” David chuckled at your slow response but happy tone.

You were right, David did have a nice house. His place was up in the Los Angeles Hills, a place he’d inherited from a wealthy grandparent. It was definitely going to be an upgrade for quarantine. David’s place would make it easier to be alone because of his cute little dog around, a swimming pool, a beautiful kitchen, literally anything you could have asked for. You drove up the long driveway, to the rustic house, David refused to call a classic 70’s mansion as much as you insisted upon it.

“Guess it doesn’t matter what I call it now, huh.” You said to no one. You pulled out your spare key, David had given to you for emergencies when you had started working directly under him. You opened the door and stepped inside to the empty mansion. Checkers, David’s dog came running up to you, pawing your legs and howling his tiny voice at your arrival. You smiled, setting down your bags and grabbing Checkers from the ground. “Hi, baby!” You swung him around and he licked your face adoringly. You ruffled his fur and then placed him back on the ground, he wasn’t more than eleven pounds.

Then you went to find your bedroom. You heard your footsteps echoing throughout the empty house and it definitely felt weird. Being alone, in this big house. You wondered why you had to keep convincing yourself it was so great. Then your phone rang for the second time today. David again. You threw your bags at the foot of the guest bed and walked back through the house to the main room adjoined to the kitchen, near the front door.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Y/N, thanks for picking up! And thank you for agreeing to watch the house -”

“Yeah, of course, I’m just settling in.”

“That’s great! But, I hope you don’t mind, a friend of mine has similar luck to me. He was just supposed to be in Los Angeles for a couple days, but he’s gotten stranded there and has nowhere else to go. He’s a good friend of mine and the house is most definitely big enough for two…” He trailed off, slightly anxious to put you out, when you had already been generous enough to leave the comfort of your own place during this stressful time. “So, I told him he could stay at mine, if he didn’t mind living with a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger?” You asked, slightly confused from what David was saying.

“Yeah, yeah I mean, I told him you were a friend and that you worked with me, obviously.” You laughed with some relief, “Ok, I’ve got you. That’s fine, more than fine, he’s got nowhere to go, it’d be rude of me to say no to him joining me in this mansion,” You got a little excited and emphasized the mansion.

David groaned, but finished, “Well, great! Because I’m pretty sure he’s already on his way. Bye!” The line went dead.

You wouldn’t say you were unhappy that you were going to be sharing the house. The loneliness of the empty house had grown daunting the minute you heard your footsteps. But you realized David hadn’t even given you the name of the man you were going to be living with for supposedly the next two weeks. As well, what if you and the man didn’t get along and were at each other’s throats for two weeks.

You shook the thoughts from your mind, trying not to make any presumptions. Then, you began to put away the groceries you had brought with you from your apartment and refilled Checkers’ water bowl.

Maybe twenty minutes after your phone call with David, informing you of your quarantine housemate, the doorbell rang and you jogged lazily to the foyer with the grand front door.

In front of you stood, a man with mop of dark brown hair on his head, some large green eyes, a nice outfit, and an array of tattoos peeking out from under different parts of his clothing. Wait- you thought - this isn’t some random tall, good-looking white guy. And then it dawned on you. David would be close friends with Harry Styles. This is so typical of that man. And for him to never tell you that before. That is especially David, trying to keep this guy all to himself.

“Hi, I’m David’s friend, he said he’d call ahead and let you know, I’m ‘Arry,” he rested one of his bags on the ground and reached out to shake your hand. You blinked your eyes, still a little surprised at who your roommate was going to be, but determined to be chill about it. You then reached out your hand to meet his. You took note of the largeness of his hands and how soft they were. His hand slid perfectly in yours and his eyes intensely gazed at you in the hallway.

“Yeah, he called, I’m Y/N.” You released his hand after realizing you still had hold of it, just a touch too long. You stepped aside to let Harry bring his things into the house. “Do you need any help with your bags?” You asked quickly, not wanting to seem rude. Harry turned to you as he had just stepped into the house and was exactly beside you, he quirked his head, “Oh no, I’m alright, no need to worry about me.”

“Okay,” you simply responded and walked back into the kitchen. You had left your phone in there and still had some things to organize, David didn’t keep his house as clean or organized as you liked it. You always set to work around his house whenever you came by, no matter his protests. Music was playing from your phone over the bluetooth speakers David had in the house, a mix of random songs for the month that you had compiled a couple weeks ago. It was a mix of your favorite artists: oldies and some newer stuff. You turned it up as you got to work.

Your music played loud enough that you didn’t hear Harry walk into the kitchen. “Hey,” he said. Startled, you flipped yourself to face him, discarding the box of cereal you were moving to be with the other cereals.

“What’s up?”

“I know we don’t know each other,” Harry started. You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with this. “And I’m fine if you don’t want to really interact, but I was actually kind of excited to find out that I wasn’t going to have to be all alone in this house for two weeks.”

Your lips quirked up in about a half smile as a soft chuckle came out. You rested back on the countertop behind you, feeling more relaxed at the rest of Harry’s statement. Harry stared at your figure still taking in the stranger in front of him. You seemed fairly laid back and he liked the music he heard from the speakers, assuming it was your selection.

“Oh. Yeah,” you began, scratching your head, “I know, I was excited to not have to be in my apartment, but then when I got here I got lowkey scared of being here with just myself and Checkers.”

“Wait, Checkers is here?” Harry’s mood and tone immediately picked up, looking excitedly around for the little dog. “I think he’s outside,” you said, crossing to one of the many back doors. You called for David’s dog, you and Harry’s third roommate, and he came leaping through the door.

He ran to Harry and Harry knelt to grab the dog and pick him back up. He twirled Checkers around over his head and kept repeating “Who’s a good boy” before placing the dog on one of the couches. On the couch, Harry playfully flipped the dog on his back and scratched his belly. Checkers wiggled and opened his mouth trying to nip playfully at Harry. Harry in turn put his head right near Checkers’ and shook his own fluffy hair in the dog’s face. Checkers went wild, loving the attention he was receiving.

After a bit, Harry let Checkers go and stood up, you had been watching on amusedly, “God, I love this dog, so fucking cute,” he said. You were surprised Harry knew David well enough to know his dog, but you dismissed it. Then, you laughed and agreed with him.

“Well, do you want to get to know each other over dinner tonight?” Harry inquired as you walked back into the kitchen, still trying to finish your self-given task of cleaning it up. “Sure, why not?”

It was the dinner time you and Harry had agreed upon. You had showered and unpacked over the past few hours. Harry, from what you knew, had done the same. You two hadn’t talked much more since he had suggested the dinner. The guest room he had chosen was on the second floor, like yours, just down the hall. After checking the time on your phone, you left your room and went downstairs. You found Harry on the couch with Checkers, reading a book. You tapped his shoulder from behind the couch and he turned his head to look up at you. “We said 7, right?” He snapped his book shut after raising her brows, coming out of a reading trance. “Oh, yeah,” he responded, rising from his seat and heading to the kitchen. You followed after him, “So what do you want to eat. I brought some groceries with me so we could cook something or there’s always take out.”

Harry opened the fridge, “Let’s make something, yeah?” He leaned back from the inside of the fridge and threw a smile to you over his shoulder. He was very confident and charismatic in person you had noticed just from the few odd moments you had spent with him already. You liked his music and felt like you should tell him you knew who he was, but you also liked the feeling you got that you were just two normal people living together for a little.

“Alright,” you began, walking to his side to look into the fridge as well, “Any requests, Harry?”

You looked up at his face, he was quite tall, taller than you had really thought. He was a really big figure up close, slightly intimidating if you were being honest. He simply demanded attention just with his presence, something strong emanating from him. You could see that strength in the lines of his jaw, lined in stubble, his green eyes set deeper in his head, the sinews in his neck. In every part of his body, there was strength, yet he spoke with a kindness about him. You were extremely interested in getting to know more about him, for this very reason. How could such a big, intimidating man in size and presence be known for being so kindhearted and in touch with himself and the world? What was his secret?

Harry simply began to remove various items from the fridge, placing them down on the island behind the two of you. He only said in response to your previous question, “Like Mexican?” You nodded and laughed, you’d grown up on Mexican food.

“I was thinking fajitas would be good, what do you think?”

“Yeah, absolutely, how can I help?”

Harry grinned at your attitude, he could tell you were the really fun, easy-going type of person. He was glad you weren’t being weird with him, even if he was a stranger. He finished taking the ingredients from the fridge and then gave you instructions on what he needed help with. The two of you set to work, this time it was Harry’s music playing over the speakers.

You sat at the dining table in the next room over from the kitchen and seating area. Harry had told you to go ahead as he finished your plates of food. Moments later, he walked into the room holding the plates. “Ta-da!” He exclaimed while presenting the two plates of food, that looked admittedly, very tasty.

He had changed his outfit from earlier and you were just now noticing. Earlier, it had been a striped dress shirt that he had dressed down with rolled up sleeves and half of the buttons undone, revealing a nice string of pearls, with navy high waisted trousers that cinched at his slender waist. Now, he was in a simple purple knit sweater and brown corduroy flares, still wearing the pearls around his neck. Neither of you were wearing shoes, both wearing only socks. And while Harry might consider that to be a more casual outfit, you were in leggings and a hoodie with a sun on it that you had thrifted awhile ago.

He sat down across from you after placing one plate on the placemat in front of you. The dining table was huge, meant for dinner parties and entertaining, not a traveler and a young employee. You took a bite and hummed in appreciation, but then said, “Wait.”

Harry stopped eating and looked at you, concerned there was something wrong with his cooking. “Red wine,” you stated. Harry’s worried face grew into a grin. “Red wine,” he echoed in agreement and nodded his head. You hopped up from your seat and ran into the kitchen, looking for the cabinet David kept his wine in.

After finding a reasonable Malbec, a favorite red of yours, you grabbed an opener, two glasses, and went back into the dining room where the munching Harry awaited. He was happily chewing his food as he gazed at you as you placed the glasses between your plates, uncorked the bottle with ease, and grabbed the glasses once more to pour the wine.

Finally, you sat down and said, “To whatever the fuck we are about to get ourselves into.” Harry laughed and offered a “Salud” in response. The two of your glasses clinked and you both drank, afterwards setting off to eat your food.

As you ate, you began to talk. Harry started, “So, you work with David?” while taking his fork and stabbing at a cooked bell pepper slice. You finished chewing, “Ah, yeah, he’s my boss. But we work pretty closely, I’m kind of like a personal assistant, but I do more than just his scheduling and errands.” Harry nods.

“Oh no, never. I would’ve definitely just told you who I was if you didn’t know, but it’s nice to pretend for a little.” He grinned as he said the words, his elbow resting on the table with his wine glass in hand. You ate some more, letting his words linger in the air. It’s nice to pretend for a little.

“Well,” you finally said, “I won’t give you any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a guy staying at the same house as me. Doesn’t matter to me what you do to pay your bills.”

Harry liked that. You were very intriguing, the way you spoke to him. Especially now that he was sure that you knew about his music and celebrity. “You make it sound like I’m a sex worker or something naughty!” he said, feeling more comfortable with you with the more time that passed and the more wine he had.

“It’s kind of the same thing...providing a service - that your body is an essential part of providing it properly.” You stated smugly, looking over at Harry from behind the rim of your glass. “And there’s nothing wrong with sex workers,” you added.

“You’re right,” he stopped, wanting to continue the conversation, but confused how to move on from sex workers. “So what do you think of my music?”

“I thought you wanted to be treated like you weren’t a celebrity,” you countered.

“That’s out the window, c’mon,” he said, leaning forward.

“You just want me to boost your ego,” you smirked, liking the banter that was coming so easily between you two, “Like I said, I know you, Harry Styles.”

He scoffed at your teasing and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t actually annoyed, he was enjoying this. “Then you’re a fan, huh?” Not letting it go without you saying how you felt about his music.

“Fine,” you sang slightly, shifting in your seat. “Your music,” you paused again, enjoying Harry eager to hear your opinion and you being in control, “is better than a lot of other modern stuff considered good by today’s standards.”

“So you like it?” He said slowly. That was probably the most roundabout, vague compliment he had ever heard. He picked at his almost empty plate, still staring at you.

You tilted your head and placed it on your palm, looking to the sky as if you were thinking about his question hard. Finally, you shifted your head in your palm so you were looking at Harry wearily. Then you shut one eye and said, “I guess,” before shrugging your shoulders as if you didn’t care at all. Harry let a single blow of air out of his nose, like a short laugh, before standing and taking both of your plates. As he walked out of the room he whistled lowly, “You are such a tease, Y/N.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and you heard him cleaning up. You were about to call out to him and say how he didn’t have to do the cleaning since he did the majority of the cooking, but then your eyes fell to the half drunk bottle of wine. Normally, you’d re-cork it and drink the rest at a later date, but it was still early in the evening and you and Harry literally had nowhere to go. Also, the two of you hadn’t gotten past the work question of getting to know you. There was still a bit more to learn about each other and you were happy to continue to discuss over wine.

Harry reemerged from the kitchen and you held up the wine bottle to him and waved it, “We need to finish this.”

“Have I told you yet that I like the way you think?” Harry walked over and grabbed the bottle from your hand. He quickly poured both your glasses much fuller than the usual standard glass of wine. When you eyed him curiously about the heavy pour, he only shrugged practically saying it’s just us drinking it who cares if we fill up our glasses extra full.

“No you haven’t, but I like the way I think too! I’m very smart you know,” you said with some play in your voice as you walked through a doorway that led to the sitting room. Harry trailed behind, bringing the now less than full bottle with him. You both sat yourselves on the couch, a fair amount of space between the two of you, not too close, but not too far apart either.

You both took long gulps of the wine. You were starting to feel a little warm from it, but you enjoyed where the wine was taking your conversation so you weren’t planning on stopping. Harry’s big green eyes squinted slightly at you from behind his wine glass, similar to how you had done earlier. He lowered it and licked his lips. There was definite tension between the two of you right now. Maybe you both had realized the implications of being alone with a stranger for two weeks with no interruptions and no distractions. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating because all you wanted to do was keep teasing Harry and have him keep baiting you.

Harry asked a question suddenly, breaking the silent staring that had been going on. And the tension was broken the two of you continuing your getting to know you for the rest of the night. By eleven, the bottle was empty and forgotten on the coffee table and you and Harry had scooted closer. You had similar likes and dislikes when it came to music. You talked about fashion and what it was like to get to wear top designers all the time - Harry being the wearer, not you sadly. You asked him what it was like to tour and he asked you more about your job and living in Los Angeles, how it was to not walk around the place and be bombarded with people. Then, you circled back to travel.

“I’ve been lucky enough to travel a lot in my life, too. I traveled with my family as a kid and I made sure my job would have me traveling around, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry took the last sip of his wine and set the glass down, readjusting himself to lean on his arm on the couch, looking at you.

“Was supposed to be with David in England, actually, but I got held up and was going to join him next week,” you mused, finishing your wine as well and leaning your body so your back was fully against the back cushion.

“No way, I was supposed to leave next week, too. Who knows, maybe we would have been on the same plane and crossed paths like that without even knowing,” Harry said excitedly.

You rolled your head to the right and looked at his face, how it had lit up at that unlikely prospect. “You probably wouldn’t have known, but I’m sure I would’ve been able to tell, probably have a whole crowd of fans there waiting for you, end up having to delay the plane for ya’. And I’d be sitting there like ‘which famous prick is holding us up?”

“Oi!” he swatted at your leg closest to him, “Has anyone told you you’re a bit mean.”

You raised your brows at his physical contact and his words. You shifted to your side again and slid your legs beneath you, looking directly at Harry. “Yes,” you said seriously.

Harry laughed at that. At least you were honest, and you were funny, too. You joined his laughter, it felt contagious, the way his voice was so loud, but so jovial. His eyes managed to twinkle even as he squinted, his smile taking over his entire face.

Without either of you noticing, the two of you had shifted extremely close to one another. You finally realized because you felt Harry’s breath fanning over your face. His breath smelled of Malbec, but his over scent mixed with it and turned it into something enticing. You wanted to lean in more, but the only place further to go was his lips.

Harry’s eyes flickered to meet yours, confused yet delighted about the situation he had somehow gotten himself in. The two of you breathing in each other, chests heaving from laughter, hearts beating from wine, and bodies ready to ignite the minute they touched. You remained there for a few moments more, basking in his glow.

And then you whispered, “I should go to bed.” You pulled away and retreated upstairs to your room. Harry was left there, sitting stunned at the whole situation. How had that happened? And what had you just stopped from happening? You were thinking the very same things as you sat down on your bed and calmed your breathing.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

Part 2

taglist: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry,

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #my writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles is domestic #harry styles slow burn #i hate this title #first long fic with no quote #nothing was strong enough #jk i had to change it #i couldnt handle it with out #enjoy

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

Ok imma be honest, this chapter moved me to tears and not the sad sobbing but the more inspiring kind. This chapter means the world.

She had told them her dreams were about ducks – since there were the only equally horrible thing she could think of.

Uncle Magnus had given her an odd look then, as if he knew she was bullshitting them. But he hadn’t said anything.

DUCKS AREN'T THAT BAD! HAVE Y'ALL EVER BEEN CHASED BY A GOAT?? I WAS CONVINCED I WAS GONNA DIE

Lexi would be royally pissed if this turned out to be some stupid pointless dream.

YUP

Even though she was only 7 minutes older than Lexi, Selena always acted like she was 7 years older.

That's so cute though

People looked at her pastel-coloured aesthetic immediately assumed she was the soft and sweet Fairchild twin. People saw Selena in her red leather jacket and thigh high boots and assumed she was in the infamous troublesome Herondale twin.

SMH THE DAMN STEREOTYPES

Why Selena hadn’t killed her in her sleep yet, Lexi doesn’t know.

BYE THAT'S EVERY SIBLING RELATIONSHIP EVER

The meals at the Academy were to die for – quite literally. Last week two students from the warlock fraction had almost killed each other over a blueberry muffin.

Oh how times change...they will never know the dreaded soup

NO ANJALI HAS BEEN GONE FOR OVER A YEAR???

IS JAIME OK?? PLEASE BE OK! HE CAN LIVE WITH TREATMENT SO I REALLY HOPE HE'S OK

Selena’s was Idris of course. She was kind of obsessed with it.

Max loved the shadow markets. Lexi thought they were very cool too.

Rafael loved his father’s office – which was weird. There was nothing to do in that room other than ponder about shadow world problems. Besides, the place still weirdly smelled like the tangerine perfume Anjali wore, even though the girl had left New York almost a year ago.

David loved the New York Institute – especially the library.

Gigi of course loved the dining halls.

Dining halls, kitchens, food trucks, vending machines - if a place had food with it, Gigi loved it.

It's so amazing how they all have their favorite places...(same David same)

“You’re supposed to pour the syrup on the pancakes not into your mouth,” Lexi chuckled as she sat down next to her.

“It ends up in my mouth anyway,” Gigi shrugged.

True enough.

AWW ROMAN MAKING GIGI PLAYLISTS!!

Someone make me a playlist.

“His parents fell in love in Rome when they were in Rome,” Gigi pointed out even though Lexi already knew. “I think it’s actually romantic.”

I had forgotten that-

Roman was nice. But not nice enough for Georgia. Lexi didn’t think there was anyone good enough for her parabatai – who was the most perfect person in the world.

Me @ anyone who tries to make a move at my best friend.

AWW GEORGIA LIKES HIM TOO!!

When's the wedding?

(you're telling me you didn't believe you were gonna marry your childhood crush? Liar)

“I like being his friend,” Georgia said. “I like spending time with him and all of that. But I don’t know if I like him…in that way. I feel like I need more time.”

Demiromantic??? YES GIVE US THE REP

Lexi sometimes thought life would be so much simpler if the world was full of women and everyone was a lesbian.

Ikr?? Life would be so much easier.

Lexi says Roman is too-nice-sus

Well well well

The kind of love that cheated death.

The kind of love that sustained memory spells put by princes of hell.

The kind of love that changed the world.

Trust me all of our standards are very high

Lexi successfully survived the class without falling asleep.

Me during English.

Ok who's the blond?

Lexi I thought we weren't gonna fall this soon-

Oh the girl's straight...sigh we've all been there.

which meant they had to hold hands. Kinda.

Lexi was a little scared of that.

Me.

Goddamnit, Alexandra. Get your gay together!

THAT'S SO RELATABLE LIKE?? YES

OH MY GOD IT'S EMMA AND JULIAN'S DAUGHTER GEIDIDHDOHDJSKSJSKGXJDHSODHKDGDDGDJHDJDGDJDGJDHD

Lexi knew Olivia liked boys. She hadn’t dated anyone officially of course. All the boys were kind of terrified of her father.

She could be bi or pan or omni. WE GOTTA HAVE HOPE

vegetable loaf... David I'm so sorry you had to go through this.

Lexi then decided not to do any of her homework over the weekend because she was not coming back to the academy. She was not going to survive the sleepover and whatever else Olivia had in mind.

Bestie...why is this me when I make eye contact with my crush.

“Good stuff?” Max snorted. “Rafe literally ran away from home cause shit got too intense.”

“I didn’t run away!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Stop telling people that!”

“But you have rumours and shadowhunters getting thrown into silent city and cohort drama and all that exciting stuff!” Liv pointed out.

I-

Liv-

True though.

“Wasn’t there a serial killer when your parents were young?” David asked.

“And didn’t your uncle do necromancy?” Max said biting into a chicken wing.

True and true

“Sorry, Chouchou!” Lexi winced. “I, uh, sensed a mosquitoe on your leg.”

“Girl, your angel powers are weird as fuck,” Max laughed.

MAX LANGUAGE

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged and threw her a wink. “I wouldn’t put anything past Lexi.”

Lexi looked at Gigi. She was one more compliment away from screaming.

But Gigi of course knew her struggle and therefore quickly stuffed a bread roll into Lexi’s mouth.

I need someone to stuff bread into my mouth when things get like this

There were rumours about David – and how Daddy had an affair. Lexi was yet to find those asshats and shove a witch light down their throats.

When you find them lemme know too.

“Or maybe it’s because you don’t need rumours be interesting,” David pointed out.

Max turned around, looking surprised at that. His cheeks turned purple. Lexi didn’t know why he was surprised. David only ever spoke fondly of Max.

JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY OH MY GOD

“Oh. Oh! I did hear something a long time ago!” Gigi said suddenly. “Olly, is it true you were conceived at the beach?”

“Georgia, you can’t just ask people where they were conceived!” David sounded horrified.

That is very much possible.

“I heard you were conceived in hell?”

“Oh my god,” Selena looked horrified. “That’s not true! It must have been about Max!”

“Y’all I am adopted!” Max was shaking with laughter and then stopped. “Although our dads could have definitely had sex in hell. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Oh yes. Both clace and malec.

Then they had of course continued to discuss that cursed topic until Rafael had threatened to tell the Consul about it.

LMAO

Lexi turned around and saw Liv waiting for her. Nope. She wasn’t going to talk a walk – a fucking stroll! – with Olivia all on her own.

“You are coming back to the institute with me or I will un-parabatai you.”

You know there being an un-parabatai ceremony would solve a lot of shit

What if their hands accidentally grazed or something? That shit was lethal.

RIGHT????

She is just trying to be nice. That’s what friends do. They are nice. And they give each other pretty dresses and say they would like to see them in it.

Honey that's gay.

EVERYONE ASKING HER OUT IM DEAD

Selena: Ugh boys

Selena: When I win back Idris, we are leaving all the men behind.

Lexi: Except Magnus? Lol.

Selena: Obviously.

Is that even a question Lexi? Duh.

ALEC LIGHTWOOD THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT? THE SHAME!

OH MY GOD IM CACKLING

Not everyone can kiss their partner in the Accords Hall. Some people didn’t have access to the Accords Hall.

And most important, some people didn’t have partners!

We're getting a lexi and Alec talk someone hold me

“I’m going to tell you something,” Uncle Alec said. “It might sound simple. It might sound ridiculous. But it’s the truth. So, you must believe me. Can you do that?”

Lexi gave him a small nod.

“It doesn’t matter what other people think,” Uncle Alec said. “Not when it comes to your future. Not when it comes to your identity. They don’t get to have a say in who you are and why you are the way you are.”

Lexi bit her lip.

“Alexandra, people will always tell what to do. But you shouldn’t let them. Never let anyone tell you what to do with your heart or your body. Neither belongs them. It only belongs to you.”

THIS RIGHT HERE MADE ME START CRYING BECAUSE DAMN YES!

“Yep,” she groaned and then hesitated for a moment. “Uncle Alec…Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Can I say no?”

“No.”

“Then go ahead.”

I love her so much

“I feel…I feel it’s something we have to bear, Alexandra. The fear of rejection. It’s something we have to accept as an inevitable part of our lives. Because no matter how much love we have around us, we will always be afraid of people not loving us – simply because of who we are.”

Yeah...

“Besides, they named you after me,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what else they expected.”

EXACTLY! Did they really expect a straight child after naming them after Alec?

“I do like shouting,” Lexi wondered out loud. “That’s good advice.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Uncle Alec looked alarmed.

“No, it makes total sense!” Lexi grinned. “Some of these people can be tone deaf. Gotta shout it out. Loud and clear. Awesome advice! Thanks, Uncle Alec!”

DO IT

“Hey, Lexi. I was wonderin-”

“MOVE, I’M GAY!” she yelled as she shoved him aside and kept on running.

ABSOLUTELY ICONIC

“I prefer she/her,” Lexi answered. "But sometimes I prefer she/they. But you can use she/her because some of y'all already shit at grammar."

That's exactly what I tell people when they ask for my pronouns. Istg people are shit at grammar.

alright girl im here to give you a lecture on how someone's dressing doesn't describe their sexuality

OH MY MY GOD THERE WAS A GENDER AND SEXUALITY CLASS IN THE ACADEMY ARE THEY RECRUITING???

One of the boys who had complimented cleared his throat. “So, uh, you don’t like boys?”

“That’s literally what I said,” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m gay. I’m very gay. I’m gayer than the Consul. Okay fine, that’s not true. No one gayer than the Consul. But I’m still pretty gay.”

Does the boy have hearing problems?

ALSO YES NO ONE'S GAYER THAN THE CONSUL

“Sexual orientation and gender expression are two different things,” she explained now, remember what Uncle Magnus had taught them. “Sexual orientation refers to who I am sexually and romantically attracted to. Gender expression is how I want to express my gender identity. Those two are not connected. Just because a woman wears feminine clothes it doesn’t mean she is straight. Just because a man embraces femininity, it doesn’t make him gay either. Does that make sense?”

“Ohhh,” the girl nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you!”

“What I wear does not reflect who I like. It reflects who I am and what I like to wear,” Lexi explained. “And regardless of my sexuality, I like pretty things.”

Exactly.

“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that,” he told her. “I mean I have to change the pronouns in my shovel talk. But that’s not a big deal.”

Awwww

Also – my good friend Raziel told me that homophobia is a sin.”

“You mean homosexuality is a sin?” an older man asked.

“No, homophobia is a sin,” Lexi repeated. “That’s what Raziel said.”

“But that’s not-”

Someone cleared their throat. When he spoke, it was in the Consul Voice.

“Are you saying know better than Raziel?” the Consul asked.

Listen to Raziel you dumb shit

“Sure. Let me just call the Lesbian Alliance,” Lexi rolled her eyes.

Ugh I wish

OH NO NO NO NOT THE FAKE DATING. JUST CONFESS AND DATE FOR REAL

“Alexandra, I have a fucking undercut and I have pink highlights and I cuff my jeans and I literally walk around with a sword and I can quote Lady Gaga to perfection! Why would you ever think I was straight??”

Lexi your gaydar is broken bestie.

Don't do this omg this is gonna be a mess

Gigi: THIS IS A BAD IDEA. ABORT! ABORT!

Lexi: Relaaaax. It’s going to be fine!

Gigi: I’ve read enough fanfiction to know the fake dating trope never ends well!

Lexi: I’ve told you to include the ‘angst with happy ending’ tag!

LMAO

Also Gigi which fanfiction do you read?

Jace omg...

That's so him though.

“How about my peeps? It sounds very hip.”

“It does not,” Lexi replied. “Please don’t refer to us as your peeps under any circumstance."

IM SCREAMING ASHSKHSIDBSHSHDH

Her father chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, you’re a Herondale. Being problematic is what we do.”

EXACTLY

Daddy opened the notebook again. “I need names.”

Grabs flamethrower names

“Besides, the Lightwoods and Blackthorns have been hogging the gay genes for too long. Now it’s our turn. I say you gay it up.”

“Gay it up?” Lexi laughed.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go for the highest possible level of gay.”

DO IT

He blinked for a second and then it hit him. “OH MY GOD YES! DOES EMMA KNOW??”

Lexi laughed. Yeah, he can never find out it was a fake dating situation.

Hopefully he won't have to because it won't be fake :D

“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”

THE GROWTH OH MY GOD

This chapter literally means so much to me. I don't even know what to say. I hope I too can one day have the courage to shout it in front of everyone and not be scared. See ya on Tuesday!

It means so much to me that this chapter meant a lot to you. I hope you find all the courage, strength and support you need. You are amazing.

And here. I made you a playlist.

You can find it here on YouTube. I hope you like it :)

#lbaf

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zontiky · 3 years

Note

au where the apocalypse was never a threat or a concept to begin with

*cracks knuckles* now i could make this a decent upbringing au OR i could make it EXTREMELY COMPLICATED and you know me you know exactly what im about to do ;)

reginald THINKS he’s prepping them all for the apocalypse but reginald is a child-abusing FOOL and an alien BASTARD and there’s no apocalypse there never was there never will be. the world is safe and sound but the hargreeves children aren’t.

five runs away from home and gets thrown into april 1st, 2019. the world is thriving. he did it. he tries to get home but he can’t because he’s stuck and im now realizing that everyone reading this post has seen a million fics with this exact concept but FUCK YOU THIS IS MY CITY NOWWW

so he’s stuck in 2019 and he’s like ah fuck ah SHIT what now! and goes to the academy and it’s not like he was super far away from it in the first place. he didn’t even make it a mile away it’s like a 5 minute walk back home lmao

now because reggie thinks there IS an apocalypse he still killed himself and i hate him a lot so cough ahem anyway

five shows up on the mansion and expects dad to be sitting there in his office, doing his evil dad evil villain thing yk the drill

but instead he comes in to an empty house. mom is unresponsive. he cant find pogo (dont ask where pogo is. hes doing monkey butler things ok). and diego is climbing in through the window

five freaks out because WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU THIS IS MY HOUSE and jumps diego and diego goes down HARD because WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT MY DEAD BROTHER?? MY BROTHER WHO DISAPPEARED 17 YEARS AGO?? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCKKKK

so they try to beat the shit out of each other for a second and by that i mean five tries to beat the shit out of diego whos gained his senses by now and is trying to convince his brother (his BROTHER) that technically he lives here too please stop punching me

luther comes downstairs.

“IS THAT FIVE???”

“SHUT UP AND HELP ME THIS LITTLE FUCKER CAN PUNCH”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

they manage to calm him down when five catches sight of diegos tattoo

WAIT I FORGOT THAT THE FUNERAL WAS BEFORE APRIL FUCK NEVERMIND SCRAP THE PAST 13 BULLETS ABORT MISSION

so five lands in april, goes to the house, and by then the hargreeves have cleared out and are back to doing their own thing more or less. he comes up to the door and grace (pogo has fixed her by now because i said so) welcomes her son back home like he never even left

she gives him a hug

reginald is gone and she hasnt seen her sun in years and dammit, he deserves that hug okay? she gives him a hug.

five pulls away. mom hasnt hugged him for years because he stopped letting her and he’s not about to change his mind now

“where’s everyone?” he asks. he doesn’t even consider that everybody is gone, because where would they go? or maybe it just hasn’t hit him exactly which time he jumped into, maybe he still hasn’t made the connection exactly what age his siblings are now, maybe he has but he still hopes he can deny it for a little while longer

grace wants to hug him again but she refrains. she calls his siblings

one by one, in the span of the next week, she gets ahold of them and calls them back to the academy. “important news,” she says. “you’ll want to -- you’ll need to be here,” she says. “your brother,” she says, and her children listen and come back home

luther is at the academy when five gets here. because, where would he go? he can’t go back to the moon, and dad is gone, and he’s never even been on a bus alone before, where would he go?

when five sees him for the first time he almost cries, because he’s so much bigger and taller and older and what happened to him??

this is his new reality. this is the new luther

but it isn’t, it can’t be, because five is going to get back home and he’s going to fix it, he’s going to fix this and he’s going to grow up just like his siblings did, and it won’t even be long before he’s back home almost two decades ago.

vanya is next to arrive, and five almost -- almost -- smiles at her and gives her a hug and teases her how she’s still shorter than him, but she has such a blank expression on her face and the way she looks between the portrait of him (he hated that portrait from the beginning, he wanted to burn it because hes back now, isnt he? and he’ll go back home and not leave again, but pogo didnt let him) stops him. it will only be a couple of days and he’ll be going home already, he tells grace, so maybe the others dont even have to come here. she nods and smiles and says nothing

diego comes a day or so later, dragging klaus along, and five is stunned by how they look once again. diego looks battle-hardened and angry like he never did just last week, five’s last week, but now he scowls and doesn’t stutter and dresses himself in black and he lives alone and diego looks so lonely but five doesnt think about it because its not his business and he knows better and its diegos own damn fault for cutting contact, isnt it? and even if it weren’t five will go back and fix it all

five knows klaus has been doing things for a good year or so know, but this -- living on the streets, giggling even as diego forces him inside, making lewd jokes with his eyes out of focus -- he couldn’t have even imagined. he stamps down the feeling of i should have been there to help stop him and doesn’t think how sad and angry at their father seeing klaus like this makes him feel, instead he forces thoughts of it’s his own fault he ended up this way and i’m going to get back and fix this (but that’s not a thought he has to force. he will. he has to. it won’t even be another week before he figures out how to get home)

allison gets there next. she took the first plane she could get on to get home and pushed off all her appointments but she had a family emergency just last week and it was hard to get away and she looks so sad even when she opens her arms for a hug and five cant help but relent and give her one. diego scoffs and allison lets loose a dig thats more of a barb thats more of a sharp sentence splitting the air and hitting her brother square in the chest. five doesnt say anything but his stomach twists. just a week or so and he’ll fix it because even as children they never said things like that to each other

he waits for ben to come last. he must be the most adjusted of them all, right? ben read a lot last five saw of him, and hes one of the smartest of them, and secretly five always thought that ben deserves to have friends that he doesnt live with

ben doesnt come

he asks mom and she smiles and he asks the others and they look away and he asks again and someone -- and it doesnt matter who because his ears are ringing and hes stumbling back and falling onto the couch -- says that ben died. ben died years ago.

ben died four years after five left

fives head is spinning and he needs to get back, he needs to stop it he needs to fix it he needs to make it all better because it was never supposed to be this way

(you thought this would be a happy au didnt you?? haha bitch think again)

(it is but they have to get there smhhh)

klaus laughs and elbows the air next to him and five asks, he doesnt beg, he asks him if he can summon ben

everyone scoffs. rolls their eyes. klaus is high as a kite and hes holding a bottle of whiskey and he looks like he hasnt been sober in days. weeks. years. and he’s a liar and ben is gone for real, im sorry, five. i know this must be hard for you

that can’t be right. five wasnt there for all of klaus’ lies and stealing and drunken sobbing. five remembers klaus rolling a joint at the breakfast table like it was last week -- and it was, it was, he’ll fix it still, but to five klaus is still just his brother. just klaus

he asks, not begs, five doesnt beg but he comes damn close in this moment, to tell him the truth

and klaus looks around and ben whispers please, klaus, just try and five is looking at him with wet eyes and he’s thirteen he’s so young and -- he can’t say innocent. none of them have ever been innocent, not since reginald hargreeves adopted them all those years ago. but five...

he tells the truth. and five believes him

so anyway five cant get back and then they decide well ok five while youre staying here we might as well buy you some clothes. ones that arent literally 20 years old. jesus these uniforms are ugly

my jaw is clenching so hard and im cold asdflksdh so im gonna end this here and maybe rb it and continue lated idk 😳😳

WHOOP this is getting away from me i know u didnt come here for quote poetic unquote bullshit but weihfsdkjdhskf THATS WHAT UR GETTING I GUESS XX <3

#asks #ftag #five hargreeves #nopocalypse au #aus #tua #the umbrella academy #im not reading over this. all the typos are there for the Authenticity and Flavor #misc #hfhkjwjkfdsaihshf #I HOPE U LIKED IT IM OUT OF PRACTICE DOING THESE 😭😭#not!fic

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

Text

We Fell In Love in October

dad!spencer x reader

a continuation of these blurbs. you do not need to read them to read this fic, but they all take place in the same universe

word count: 2.7k | warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, other than that all fluff

We fell in love in October, That’s why I love fall, Looking at the stars, Admiring from a far

There was nothing that broke your heart more than the fact that you were missing your daughters first time trick or treating. But, as Spencer reminded you every day, you were way too pregnant to be out walking around all night while she got candy. You were devastated, but you knew he was right. You were nearing your due date and felt like you were carrying a whale around at all times. There was absolutely no way you’d last longer than 20 minutes without whining about how your feet hurt.

So you and Spencer decided you’d stay home and hand out candy while he took Imogen to the fanciest neighborhood in your suburb so she could get the best candy. You remember trick or treating in the same neighborhood as a kid, and the houses always had full size candy bars and toys. There was one house that made a mini haunted house in their front yard every year, and it was your favorite thing as a kid. You felt sick thinking that Immy was going to experience it for the first time without you.

“You promise me you will take a ton of pictures and videos? If there’s not at least 500, we are literally getting a divorce,” you pouted, helping Spencer get his costume on.

“Babe, I promise you won’t miss a second of it. I know it sucks you can’t go, but you have to keep my little baby safe,” he smiled, kissing your swollen belly and then bringing his lips to yours, giving you a small peck.

“I’m gonna go check on her, make sure she’s got her costume all set. Why don’t you go downstairs and relax, you seem a little high strung today,” he teased, walking out of your bedroom together and into your daughters room.

“Of course I’m high strung, Spence. I’m a thousand months pregnant and you’re taking my daughter away from me to walk around alone in the dark.” You felt yourself tearing up, one again out of control of your emotions. Being pregnant fucking sucked.

“Do you not trust me to keep Immy safe? Do you know what I do for a living?” Spencer laughed, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance as you walked down the stairs to go flop on your couch.

You felt the baby kick, and you placed a hand on your belly. You both decided not to find out the gender, the same thing you did with your last pregnancy. Spencer loved not knowing, claiming you got ‘more gifts’ if you didn’t know. But it drove you crazy. Even though you didn't know for sure, Spencer was convinced it was a boy. He wanted a son so bad, so you played along with his fantasy, but you were pretty certain it was a girl. You felt the same as you did when you were pregnant with Imogen, even craving the same foods as before. You had a mother's instinct- you knew who she was.

You leaned your head back on the couch, closing your eyes to rest for a moment. You seemed to be constantly exhausted, despite spending most of the day sleeping. You slowly rubbed your belly, always afraid that if you went too long without touching her she would forget you.

“You ready, Mommy?” You heard Spencer’s voice say, from the top of the stairs. You smiled happily, keeping your eyes closed as the two of them came down to the living room in their costumes.

“Let me see my loves!” You responded, giggling in anticipation as you awaited your daughters first Halloween costume.

“Look at me, Mommy! I’m so pretty!” Imogen said, Spencer holding the girl in his arms. You opened your eyes to see her dressed as a fairy- exactly what she wanted. You felt yourself tearing up, which were a mix of happy and sad tears.

“You both look so amazing!” You stuttered, trying to get your words out through muffled cries.

“Don’t cry, Mommy!” Immy pouted, wriggling out of Spencer’s arms and onto the couch to give you a hug.

“Oh, I’m not sad, Im. You’re just so pretty!” You kissed her on the top of the head, trying not to mess up her costume.

“We should probably get going soon. I don’t want to be out too late,” Spencer frowned, checking his watch and looking outside to see if it was getting dark yet.

“Right, of course. Please keep me updated, okay?”

“Of course, my love.”

“Have fun, you guys. Be safe!”

Spencer and Imogen waved goodbye to you, blowing you a kiss as they walked out the door. You tried your best not to cry as they drove away, trying to focus on getting ready to hand candy out to other kids. You knew it was probably just your anxiety, and the fact that you and Spence had been watching scary movies every night for the past month- but you had a bad feeling about tonight. And it was only a short time later when you realized your feeling was right.

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Spencer was one of the smartest men alive- that was indisputable. But where he excelled in book smarts, sometimes his common sense was lacking. Like how he was consistently forgetting to charge his phone. So when it died after only an hour of trick or treating- probably because he hadn’t stopped taking pictures since they left- he felt like a huge idiot. Especially considering how much you reminded him to plug it in every night before bed.

But he tried not to panic, convincing himself he had recorded enough of the night to satisfy you. Plus, now he could really be in the moment with his daughter, which was what it was all about, right?

“C'mon Daddy,” Imogen groaned, pulling Spencer by the arm up to another house. And as Spencer followed his daughter, he realized where they were. This was the house. The ‘haunted house’ house that you talked about every Halloween, that the both of you were so excited for Immy to experience herself. And Spencer had promised you a thousand times over that he would record the entire experience.

‘Fuck,’ he thought to himself, shaking his head in disappointment, preparing for the inevitable fight when he had to tell you he didn’t record it. Unless, they just don’t go? That could work, right? He would just tell you that they didn’t do it this year, and next Halloween they could all go together. The plan was perfect. Except for one thing.

“Please, Daddy. I really wanna go to this house,” his daughter frowned, crossing her arms in frustration.

“Immy, please just listen to Dad, okay. Not this house.” His daughter was persistent and adorable, which made this incredibly difficult.

“No. I want to go to this one.”

“Imogen Josephine, when your Dad tells you no, you have to listen.”

“No! I want to go!” She turned around quickly, running up the driveway to the house. Spencer rolled his eyes in annoyance, chasing after her. She was running quickly, not paying attention to her surroundings. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and Spencer knew it. But he couldn’t catch up to her before disaster struck. She tripped over one of the decorations, falling on the pavement and falling on her arm.

“Ow!” She yelled, her eyes filling with tears as she sat on the ground. Spencer caught up with her, immediately getting on the ground and checking on her.

“Imogen! This is why you listen to me when I tell you no!” He yelled in frustration, trying to see just how bad her scrapes and cuts were.

“Don’t yell at me!” She responded, now fully crying and screaming.

“I’m sorry, peanut. I didn’t mean to get mad,” Spencer responded, wiping the tears from her cheeks and picking her up.

“My arm really hurts,” she wept, holding her now swollen wrist away from them.

“Okay, peanut, I think we need to go to the hospital and get that checked out,” Spencer instructed, carrying his daughter down the street and back towards their car. He knew you were going to kill him when he got a call from the hospital. He felt sick to his stomach as he got Immy in the car and started driving. What an absolute nightmare. Maybe he couldn’t do it without you. Maybe his skills as a parent were only valid if you were around to watch him.

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥♥

Seeing all of the cute kids in their costumes was definitely making you feel better. You knew you had to trust Spencer. He was an amazing Dad and husband, and he would always take care of your girl. You knew he would.

But, everything seemed to fall apart in about five minutes. It all started when you went to check Spencer’s location, a bad habit that you knew wouldn’t solve anything. When it popped up that he couldn’t be located, you felt your stomach flip and your heart skip a beat.

“Damnit Spence. Charge your fucking phone…” you whispered, shaking your head and digging your nails into your palms. It was okay, though. He was fine, they were fine. Right?

And then the worst possible thing could’ve happened. You felt a weird pain in your abdomen, one that caused you to nearly double over and fall on the floor. Only a few seconds later, it made sense. Your water broke.

You weren’t due for another two weeks. This could not be happening. There’s no way. But another contraction a few minutes later made it clear- you were having your baby, and Spencer had no phone. Holy shit.

You reached for your phone and instinctively called JJ, telling yourself it was because she lived the closest but also knowing she was the only person who could handle being in the delivery room with you if you couldn’t find your husband.

“I’m going to kill him,” you screamed into the phone, not even bothering to greet your friend or explain the situation.

“Woah, okay kiddo. What’s going on?”

“His phone is dead, and I am having this damn baby. I am going to kill him.”

“Oh, Jesus (Y/N). Okay… um… we can figure this out. Do you know what neighborhood they're in?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll send Will to go drive around and look for them. In the meantime, I am coming to pick you up and take you to the hospital. Just relax, take a few deep breaths. Everything will be fine.”

You hung up the call and grabbed your hospital bag, patiently waiting by the door. JJ was only about ten minutes away, but it felt like you were waiting for hours. You tried calling Spencer’s phone a few times, but it went right to voicemail. This could not be happening. Holy shit, this could not be happening.

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Spencer pulled into the emergency room parking lot, whipping his car through the lines as his daughter cried in the backseat. He finally found a spot, parking terribly and quickly grabbing Imogen.

“We’re here now, peanut, everything’s gonna be okay,” he reassured her, not truly believing the words himself. His heart was racing, his breath shaky and his mind going a million miles a minute. He needed to talk to you as soon as possible- he needed you to tell him, and your daughter, everything would be okay.

“Hi, um, my daughter fell and hurt her arm. I just need to get her checked in,” he spoke, his voice quick and panicky as he stood at the desk.

“Of course. What’s her name and date of birth?” The woman asked, smiling kindly at the two of them.

“Imogen Josephine Reid. She was born April 8th, 2017.”

“Oh, wonderful, I’ve got her file right here. Let’s get her admitted.”

Spencer stood impatiently, holding his daughters hand as she stood next to him, watching the secretary take her sweet time to admit Imogen. Spencer was tapping his foot in frustration, which Imogen quickly noticed, placing her free hand on his knee and telling him to stop. Spencer just laughed at his daughter, who was always so unapologetic, always just telling people whatever thoughts came to her head.

“Oh no, this is not good,” a familiar voice behind him said. He turned around quickly and saw JJ, a nauseated look on her face.

“What are you doing here…” Spencer asked, furrowing his brows in confusion. She appeared just fine, and she wasn’t with anyone else.

“Spencer, don’t freak out, but-”

“SPENCER REID!” You yelled, your face red and voice fuming.

“Wait, what is going on?” Spencer looked at you, confused, as you were being wheeled into the emergency room by a nurse.

“Why are you at the emergency room, Spencer? What happened to Imogen?”

“Hi Mommy! I fell and hurt my arm!” Imogen responded, her face stained with tears and her costume ripped from the fall.

“What?” You were seething, staring at Spencer with wide eyes. You were about to yell again, but your whole body seized and pain shot through your body. Another contraction. They were getting closer, and you knew it was only a matter of time before this baby came out. You whined loudly, gripping onto the arm of the chair and closing your eyes in pain.

“We need to get you in a room now, Mrs. Reid,” the nurse instructed, looking at JJ and Spencer.

“Wait… are you… are we having a baby?” Spencer’s eyes got wide, excitement filling his face as he realized what was going on.

“Yes, Spencer. Maybe you could try to not let this one break their arm,” you yelled, immediately noticing Spencer’s shit in tone as you yelled at him.

“Okay, okay, everyone. I’m sure what happened with Immy was an accident, right Spence?”

“Yes, yes I promise. She was running and tripped…”

“See, (Y/N)! Just an accident. So why don’t I take her to go see the Doctor and you guys can go… have your baby,” JJ smiled, doing her best to handle the situation. She was used to dealing with yours and Spencer's chaos. She was also Imogen’s godmother, and she did not take that role lightly.

“Okay… okay… let’s go have our baby.”

“Let’s go have our baby!”

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On November 1st, 2020, at 1:17 AM, your second daughter was born. You weren’t shocked at all when the doctors told you it was a girl, but Spencer was at a loss for words. They wrapped your small newborn in a blanket and handed her back to you. You were even more in love with her than you thought possible, and so was your husband.

JJ and Imogen were in the waiting room, along with Will and the rest of the team. Immy’s arm was fine- nothing more than a bad bruise. They had given her a halloween ice pack and a bag full of candy, to which JJ allowed her to have a little too much, and she crashed from the sugar rush pretty hard. She was passed out in Uncle Rossi’s arms, drooling chocolate all over his pajamas.

“Guys… she’s here.” Spencer smiled, walking out of the delivery room to share the news with his family.

“She? Another girl? I knew it. You owe me twenty bucks, Derek,” Garcia giggled, Derek rolling his eyes in response.

“Can we meet her?” JJ asked, happy to have another little girl to spoil.

“Of course. Come on!”

Rossi woke Imogen up, who was thrilled to meet her baby sister. Everyone walked quietly into the room, where you were holding your sleeping daughter in your arms. You were overjoyed to see all of them, knowing they would always be your family, and the first to meet your baby, because they were her family, too.

“Mommy!” Immy yelled, running towards you.

“Shh, be quiet, peanut. She’s sleeping!”

“Got it. Quiet.” Immy whispered, giggly as she looked down on her little sister.

“She looks like you, Spence,” Emily laughed, lightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulder.

“Do you remember how much Imogen looked like (Y/N) when she was born?” JJ asked, smiling down at the two girls.

“We now have a clone of each of us. It’s only a matter of time before we take over the world,” Spencer laughed, his arm wrapped around you and the baby.

“What’s her name?” Hotch asked.

“Lola. Lola Danielle Reid.”

“Welcome to the BAU, Lola.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

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rip-a-dip-dip-you-potato-chip · 3 years

Text

Trade ya

based on this ask

TW//Slight violence and a mention of blood

Macaque slipped back into the theatre after his little chat with the Monkey Kid.

Boy howdy, that kid had some explaining to do, to his companions. If only he could stick around and watch that mess unfold. But he had to retrieve his lamp.

Honestly, that was easier than he thought it would be.

Wich was concerning.

As Macaque walked over to the stage he paused for a moment, where was (y/n) is all this?

The Monkey King was off doing his own thing for a while, and he'd assumed his kid would be hanging around Mk and his friends, yet the amber-furred monkey wasn't with them when they had entered the theatre.

Did Mk literally forget one of his friends? damn, he was starting to become like the Hero...

despite everything that's happened between them since the whole 'I stole the Monkey Kings powers from Mk and broke his trust leaving him emotionally distressed' thing, he actually wanted to get to know his kid(and maybe convince them to join him)the week of stalking wasn't enough for him to say the least.

Disregarding the thought (though not entirely) he make is way back to the remains of the lap.

And with a little magic it was good an new!

Fuck ya!

As he admirered his handy work for s little longer and sound of clapping caught is attention. Wiping his head around he saw the wired guy in a pin strip suit form the play, if Macaque remembered correctly this was the guy that game my the *Skeleton Key.

"My my, that was such a magnificent performance!"

"Ha, ya well it's over, t-this was the last show actually"

Oh he did not like this for a single second. His fur was standing on there ends screaming for him to just leave.

Just as Macaque was about to use the shadows to escape, in a flash of icy blue light the guy was now behind him, and the next thing he know he was being picked up by the neck and for some reason couldn't, fucking move.

What the actual hell is happening???

"Lady Bone Demon would like a word with you~"

In the blink of an eye, the scenery changed form the damaged auditorium he'd rented out to and underground cave with mechanical parts and machines everywhere.

Just one wif of the musty roten air and he knew he was in the Spider Queens lair. But it looked different then it had been that last time he was there.

Then again it's been centuries since he was last there.

He was shortly let go by the insane suite wareing guy and rubbed his neck where it had been grabbed. And just like that the guy disappeared, leaving the Lady Bone Demon in his stead.

"Why greetings Macaque, its beet long since we last spoke"

" not long enough if you ask me"

The white haired lady let out a hum of acknowledgement as she circled the monkey.

...

"Soo any particular reason why you got one of your brain dead servents to get me?" Macaque questioned, pulling back a bit not wanting to be in her immediate range.

Up purely tactical.

"Ah, well it's come to my attention that you poses something of grate use to me" her icy gaze fixed on the lamp.

"Ya not happening" Macaque said flatly, he went though a lot to get his hands on this thing and he wasn't going to part with it so easily. Besides what ever the Lady Bone Demon was planning, would spell doom for the world as they know it.

Macaque my be a bad guy in some sense, maby even be considered an antihero-that was just more of an ass on a good day- but he wasn't one for wold domination.

In the past he just wanted to wreck heaven with his dear beloved friend befor his change of heart, not enslave mankind. They just wanted to prove there worth nothing more. But this bitch, na she was jack shit crazy. It took the combined forces of Demons and celestials alike to seal her away, himself being one of said demons.

"Ohh what a shame, looks like I'll be keeping this little one then"

In a puff of smoke (y/n) collapses on the foor to her, there fur slightly matted with blood and a visible gash on the left eye.

Similar to where his was-

It wasn't deep and wouldn't cause damage, but it still needed treatment.

Holy hell is this where (y/n) was all this time?

Macaques mind was going a mile a minute but he kept his poker face.

"And I sould care about some random kid because?"

"Oh~ Don't play dumb with me, Six Eared Macaque. You know exactly who this little one is" she started using her powers for lift the amber-furred monkey off the ground there one good (color) eye glosed over and hazy.

"After all this is your child"

"Hate to brake it to ya, but I don't have a kid"

"My sources say other wise"

Several screens descended for the walls and around them, all flicked to like to reveal footage of Macaque during his little stalking mission when he first planed to steal the Monkey Kings powers and found out about his long lost kid, and then some other footage of his watching them from the shadows.

Oh, oh no.

"I had my suspension on the Luner New Years, but your reaction solidify's my assumption"

Wha- shit his poker face slipped! Shiiiit

"So I'll ask again, the lamp or your child- they won't die persay, but I think the underground market would pay a hefty sum for one of such unique lineage"

His heart was beating faster than he thought possible, wait why would it be doing that! He shouldn't care! Should he?

Glancing between the lamp and (y/n)'s beaten form Macaque made a decision he might soon come to regret.

(Y/n) was having a good evening, well that was until the Spider Queens minions jumped them while on there way to the theater to meet up with the others(minus Sandy, what he had cats to take care of!)

When the first woke up it was in a dingy cell. And the next thing they knew the Spider Queen tried to get information about the Monkey Kings whereabouts.

"Ya right like the peach loving old man tells me anything! So if you could kindly let me on my marry way that would be fantastic"

You realy needed to know when to such your mouth or just give total bullshit information because Queeni had gotten pissed, and tried to beat the information out of you.

The Lady Bone Demon had to pry the spider off you. Saying you still had a use befor you blacking out.

When they woke for a second time everything was hazy, and there was muffled talking almost like they where under water.

Water was nice, you should learn to swim! It seems like fun! Maby you could get Mk or Mai to teach you.

After all the Monkey King was a shitty swimmer- wait no he was crap as under water fights, but wouldn't that require swimming as well-

Uh oh, was you being moved? Nooo das no gooood stop!

Ughhh why won't the muffin voices stop! And why can't I feel my eye!

E-y-e

Y E S spelles yes

E Y E S spells eyes how did that one guy get that confused, and you is moving again ST 0 p

Wait this was more comfy than before, is that red? Oh my moons it is! It's so soft!

And soft it was and you drifted to a more comfortable rest this time.

The third and final time (y/n) woke, they weren't in a cell, or had a hazy mindset. Areas not that hazy, but this time it was more so due to medicine than pain.

In fact they lay on a plush mattress, with equally soft pillows and nice heavy blankets tossed other them.

As (y/n) sat up they winced in pain slightly.

Looking down they take notice of the bandages, and a slitting head- and there are bandages on your eye as well fucking perfect.

"Good to see your up" a voice greated. Wiping their head to the side, there stood Macaques with a slight concerned look on his face.

Wha- owowowowowowowow

Probably shouldn't be moving so fast as (y/n) winced in pain again.

As (y/n) tried to steady themselves again and think of a retort, and side of the bed diped and a hand was placed oh your forehead, whilst the other heaped your arm.

"What are you-" "checking to see if you're fever spiked " "I has a heaver?" "Fever, and yes it set is last night after a particularly nasty infection" "oh"

"Wait, why are you-"

"The Bone bitch had you, i-i couldn't just let her harm you any more than she already had"

"That's dumb, you're dumb"

Sigh

"Okay back to sleep with you"

"Where am I?" "One of my safe houses, now sleep"

Sleep but what if...

"I-its okay, it'll be okay I'll be here when you wake again"

(y/n) blinked at him.

"I promise" he said softly as he guided you back down to the pillow, he retucked you in and was about to leave when (y/n) caught his hand.

Well fuck

Uhhh, you know what he's had a long fucking day himself he needs some sleep too.

So discarding his scarf to the side, as well as some armor plating and his shoes, Macaque got into the bed himself and just used himself. As he made himself comfortable, back tuned away for his pup a single thought echoed in his head.

'Im a fucking dad now, geat'

*Skelton Keys are said to open any door, plus the cannon key had a skull on it so why not?

UwU Anon you have no idea what this means, you have water my crops cleared my skin and my mind is sane!

I was originally planing to have this thing where the spider queen captured the reader/oc and used the robo parasight to make them a follower, but this, this is so much better sksksksksksk

I did most of this on mobile and my auto correct is bitchy 🙃

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #six eared macaque #macaque #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid problem childern au #problem childern au #au #this is the really good angst #anon your brain is huge #rip a dip dip wrights

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pigeonxp · 3 years

Text

YGCMA songs and how they relate to c!Wilbur based off of yesterday’s lore (in my biased opinion)

This is so dumb and i literally don’t care. I can’t think about anything else other than doing this synopsis even tho like 28480329204 other people are going to do it. idc.

(I listened to the songs earlier, and i’m also listening to them as i write the opinions. these are basically just my thoughts while listening tbh. im also not doing the full song, just some things i feel relate within each song)

- Jubilee Line

the lines at the beginning of the song, “hate to see you leaving / a fate worse than dying” could relate to how wilbur feels after tommy gets pulled back into the overworld. or, he could be referencing L’Manburg and how he hates to see his country leaving him (ouch).

then we have the lines “your city gave me asthma / so thats why im fucking leaving / and your water gave me cancer / and the pavements hurt my feelings”. This could be in relation to L’Manburg as a whole. He put everything he had into L’Manburg and it only ended up hurting him in the end. yikes.

now we have “shout at the wall / ‘cause the walls dont fucking love you” repeated. This could be in reference to when he said he was fucking kicking and screaming to get out of the train station. hes screaming and he doesnt care because it doesnt matter to him. it doesnt love him just like how the people of L’Manburg didnt love him. wilbur get therapy challenge.

so based on the lore from yesterday, we know that c!wilbur’s limbo was a train station (props to fanartists. i love you.), presumably the YCGMA album cover type deal. when he sings “Theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the tube line / theres a reason / that London puts barriers on the rails” repeated. if the train station looks like how they do on the album cover, there could be barriers where he is. maybe hes trying his best to just kill himself over again by jumping onto the tracks. just in an attempt to escape. jfc

“theres a reason they fail”. he was still in the train station, wasnt he?

- Saline Solution

for this one, i feel like hes pretty far into the void and regretting his decision to have phil kill him. hes tired of being in a fucking train station for years on end.

“i think this time im dying / im not melodramatic / im just pragmatic beyond any / reasoning for thinking ive got / fuckin rabies or something.” hes so fucking sick of being in this goddamn train station and he thinks hes dying. hes so pent up and sick of being there, maybe hes just in so much pain that he feels like hes dying. if hes been there for a while, hes probably bound to go crazy at some point, hence the “pragmatic beyond any reasoning.”

“I think ive lost my mind / blurring the fact and the fictions” this feels like he really does believe hes going crazy and is mixing up the things he really knows and the things his mind is creating for him. maybe this is when tommy first arrived and he cant tell if he real or not (thats a stretch but i figured id share it anyway.)

“I think ive made my choice / im a deceased playing victim / slip the face, slip the victory” he quite literally says that hes a deceased playing victim. hes literally saying hes dead HAHHAHAH anyway. maybe hes blaming himself again, because us c!wilbur apologists all know that hes very good at doing that.

“Sit secluded in hatred /.../” hes sitting in a fucking train station for god knows how long beating himself up over and over again and just hating himself. hes all alone. with himself. someone he fucking loathes.

this is honestly all i have for Saline Solution, but i will definitely add more later if i get different theories.

- Since I Saw Vienna

This is my favorite song on the album and my comfort song so that could factor into this bit ahaha

im going to skip through this one a little bit and go to the line “The roads are my home, horizons my target / if i keep on moving, never lose sight of it / treating my memory of you like a fire, let it / burn out, don’t fight it, try to move on” this sounds like hes reminiscing on his home in L’Manburg and his presidency was something he relied on and he would fight to get it back, but now that hes dead and said that it should remain that way that he should just let it go. trying to move on from his symphony, forever unfinished.

“its been sixty weeks since i saw vienna / a bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face / ill pick up my hiking boots when i am ready / and ill put down my roots when im dead.” THESE LINES FUCK ME UP IN GENERAL BUT HOW THEY RELATE TO C!WILBUR RN IS JUST SUIBHYSBUSHDXNSKJDNHBD YK???? in the context that vienna is L’Manburg and he died, its saying that its been a long ass time since hes seen it and hes faking being okay about his death. he misses it but doesnt want to admit it. the picking up the hiking boots when hes ready is him moving on from his L’Manburg, and putting his roots down when hes dead is finally being okay with not living there/being an important part of it. he believed his death was the best for the people in L’Manburg and L’Manburg itself. it seems like hes still trying to convince himself.

“Ill be gone then, for when you must be alone.” hes gone. hes dead. hes in the train station. he left the L’Manburgians alone and hes alone in his limbo. man.

- Losing Face

this song is angry. hes so fucking angry. my thoughts are that this is about the following presidents after him. he feels like the L’Manburgians were happier without him and im pretty sure he believed that even when Schlatt was president. this is so evident in the lyric “Is he better than me?” Hes literally asking if the other presidents were better than he was. he doesnt believe he did everything he could to be the best president, even though we all know that he gave everything that he was into that country and then some. he broke himself for the L’Manburg but he doesnt believe hes enough. sheesh.

“Ive seen him / ive been him / ive felt the same way” even though he cant see the new presidents being president, he knows what its like. he knows that they might break under the pressure. hes been there. he knows how if feels. yikes.

“Ive lost all meaning / ive lost my sense of hope” this feels like when he was nearing the end of L’Manburg when he blew it up, and that he feels like trying to win it back is pointless. he has no hope for it anymore, so why not give up? his mental state is already shit yk so i cant really blame him for feeling that way.

“i dont care / i want you here / as long as youre happy, i dont care” this line. this fucking line. hes lost hope in being president, but he doesnt care. he just wants the L’Manburgians to be happy. that was his whole thought process while he was president. he didnt matter to himself, he just wanted them to be happy. he sacrificed his mental state for them. cries in wilbur apologist.

- Your Sister Was Right

this is my second favorite song on the album i think HAHAHAH

anyway

“I use everyone i ever meet / i cant find the perfect match / abuse those i love / while i ostracize the ones who love me / back.” wowie wow wow fucking ouchie. He feels like he uses his friends. this whole thing is a projection of his shit ass mental state rn fucking hell. he feels like hes abusive. thats what everyones been telling him. they tell him he was awful and a shit president and all that jazz even though hes been killing himself trying to be the best for them but its still not enough (pigeon projecting? more likely than you think)

“every time that i miss you / i feel the way you hurt / and i dont deserve you / you deserve the world / though it feels like we were built / from the same dirt.” man. hes dead lol. he misses the L’Manburgians. not only were they his supporters, but they were all his friends too. every time he misses his friends he feels their pain of when he first blew up L’Manburg. he feels like because he caused them all pain that they dont like him and that they never liked him and that he is undeserving of their friendship. he still wants to be friends with them. he still loves them. he still wants the best for them. he thinks theyre so much better than him even though they all created L’Manburg together. in reality they are all the same, but their actions impact each other and he feels that his actions make him worse than them or less than. fuckisonmdfnpbhife

“and i hate to say it / but your sister was right / dont trust english boys / with far too much free time” sister is dream mayhaps. fuckngeionsfjg that hurt sorry uhhh anyway yeah sister is dream?? he did say that wilbur would be a shit president and he believes that hes a shit president so he thinks they were all right about him being a shit president fbhjebinfnejg. maybe sister is just everyone who didnt believe in wilbur. man....

“a fucking waste of time” do i even need to explain this one? he fr doesnt belive hes worth it anymore and that hes literally a waste of time. hjkfbhnfve

- La Jolla

this one feels pretty far into train station limbo to me as well. namely from “and im lonely / there i said it” this could either be him being lonely as president and feeling like he doesnt have anyone to talk to really because hes too busy trying to hold himself together for everyone. either that or hes lonely in the station and didnt want to admit it because this is what he wanted. he wanted to die. he wanted to be dead because he believed thats what everyone else wanted and he just wanted the best for them.

“i could go away / i could pack my things and be gone before you wake” he could leave if they asked him to. he would do anything for them.

“you know ive tried hard to love me too / it always seems to fall in, through” this line already physically pained me but now it hurts even more having to relate it to a character i love. we already know that his mental state was declining as his presidency continued, but this would confirm that hes just trying to love himself even though he can never seem to get it right.

“my own personal sunset” this is just the ‘this is my sunrise’ line but different. my man misses the sun. fuck.

- I’m Sorry Boris

this song is almost definitely from a long ass time in the limbo.

“and im sorry / but, boris / im leaving / im not good for anyone here” boris represents L’Manburgians!! hes talking about how hes leaving the world by planning on killing himself. fuck.

“we reached the end of a decade” mans been dead for a decade. sheesh.

he then goes on to say that he cant believe hes leaving, he doesnt think he wants to leave them, but he thinks its whats best for them.

he talks about how they do all of these bullshit things before helping you and i know its in reference to london but for the sake of my sanity its about the presidency role and how it will fuck you up before bothering to help you not want to kill yourself.

should i do a separate post about how i visualized it/about how i thought about the song in paragraph form like a lowkey explanation? idk how to explain it but in this one i wanted to just cover some of the lyrics of the songs and my thoughts on them. i think c!wilbur wrote these in the limbo after he died. i know this is also shit and Not Good, but i really just needed to get my thoughts out before it killed me. i also didnt reread this. its probably repetitive and shit yk. i do Not Care. id also love to hear thoughts on this if yall want to. if you made it this far i love you please hydrate and eat today and youre so sexy ahaha

“and even though im finished / im not quite done with it” even though hes finishing his symphony by blowing it up, hes now realizing he wished he hadnt blown it up and that he hadnt killed himself. man.

#tw death #tw suicide #wilbur soot #ycgma #dream smp #tommyinnit #dream #c!wilbur #fuck i love this album

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memoriashell · 3 years

Text

seashells and shores ( and something a bit more )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru, ensemble class 78; varyingly background / implied ships are sakuraoi / ishimondo / celeschi / naeleogami

crossposted on ao3

Notes: a very late day 3 for @tokomaruweek. beach prompt! yesterday i was feeling a little burnt out so i decided to not write since i didn’t want to put out something half assed. hopefully this being a bit longer helps make up for it! ( and by a bit, i mean i basically doubled the word count compared to what i’ve done for this week so far lmao rip so much for hoping i’d catch up tonight )

rated t for touko's trauma. and also for junko having her tits out. thanks junko.

anyways tw for like trauma, the general self-depricating / self-concious stuff for toko but also like. her trauma w/ water is brought up since it's. beach? and also drowning doesn't actually happen but it is brought up. and touko mentions claustrophobia in relation to her trauma offhandedly once, and again, just generally feeling insecure.

also it's kinda implied that chihiro and celes are both trans thank you!!!

Summary: going to the beach isn't exactly an exciting thought for her, given the fact she has no desire getting in the water.

komaru seems dead set on making sure she makes some memories anyways.

Do you want to come to the beach with us? That is the first text of the morning that she receives, courtesy of Makoto Naegi. Touko considers asking who he means by us, gathers that he probably means some assortment of their classmates, and ( while it is very tempting to say yes ) concludes that she can safely say no. And she intends to do exactly that, but she gets a set of texts that stops her from being able to do so.

touko-chan!!!!

ur coming with us, right?

you should come with us!

itll be fun!

So Komaru would be there too— their...friendship is odd, all things considered. Not that the knowledge of knowing she’d be there makes the offer any more tempting, but she bites her lip and considers what to say. Not that there’s really much of a question, just keep it blunt and to the point as per usual. No point in sugar coating things.

I’m busy. Maybe next time. She’s not that busy, current manuscript aside. Not that Touko intended on ever not being busy. It’s not her fault that Komaru is too dense to take a hint.

awww :(

pls?

if u don’t wanna get in the water, ill make sure they’ll leave you alone. im sure you won’t be the only one that doesnt want to!!

Ah. She might have to ( partially ) retract her statement on Komaru being dense. Had she figured out her reluctance without her even mentioning it, or had that just been a lucky guess? Maybe it was just Makoto’s luck rubbing off on her...

i understand if you don’t want to come

and i’ll leave u alone if u rlly dont wanna come.

but it wont be as much fun without you there :(

Urgh. Yeah, this girl doesn’t understand a thing, does she? She’s probably not even realized the impact her words have on her. Touko grumbles under her breath, but figures she should respond before Komaru sends another text begging trying to convince her.

Fine.

I’m not going in the water, though.

If this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you.

That is a lie. Even if worst comes to worst and Syo feels the need to front for her, she won’t hold it against her. She’s the one who agreed, after all. It’s just one last attempt at offering her an out. To change her mind. Like she should. But Komaru is nothing if not stubborn, so she doesn’t really expect that offer to be taken up on. She starts making a mental checklist of what she probably needs to take with her, doesn’t get very far into that list because Komaru’s response is nearly instantaneous.

yayayayay tnk u touko-chan ily!!!!!! :D

we’ll pick u up k????

ur staying @ the place near the dorms right? see u soon!! ♡♡

Touko grimaces at the butchering of language that is Komaru’s texting ( and ignores her own fluttering heart upon seeing the casual hearts sprinkled in at the end ), and sends back, If you love me, fix your grammar.

The car ride over is mostly uneventful. In that she means she feels like she’s going to have a headache before they even get there and Makoto keeps giving her a sympathetic look. In other words, she’s learned that Komaru and both Asahina siblings should not be left to entertain themselves for the hour-long car ride, but the only silver lining here is that it was only an hour-long ride and hopefully they would be tired out for the ride back.

The highlight of the hour was that even if it’d been a tight squeeze in the backseat, that meant she’d been ( somewhat ) uncomfortably sandwiched between the door and Komaru herself. She’s a little surprised that it doesn’t set off her claustrophobia, but reckons that might just be because it’s too bright to remind her of being locked in a closet. And also because Komaru is generally distracting in close proximity, from the way she’d been halfway sitting on her lap, to the faint scent of what Touko figures to be her shampoo.

She also considers it a victory that she did not dissociate in the midst of that, but probably only because Komaru kept checking on her and apologizing for how close they are: she’d had to bite her tongue several times from saying something harsher than she’d really mean. She doesn't hate Syo, but probably counterintuitive to let them front today: whether they are aware of this, or simply just disinterested in trying to front right now, she is thankful. If nothing else, she would consider this some kind of learning moment. Maybe. Something to draw inspiration from?

Still, once she’s free from the confines of the car, she can actually relax a little— or does for all of two seconds before Komaru has grabbed onto her free hand and started dragging her towards the loud group that she recognizes as her class. Yuta and Aoi had bolted out of the car the moment they’d come to a stop to race to the waters ( she can’t imagine being that athletic and feels tired watching them ). Touko gazes back longingly at the confines of the car and the consideration that she might’ve been able to isolate herself there, but her grip’s pretty tight on her hand. Which is nice, and distracts her from thinking about escaping until it's way too late, and she’s forced to look at the group before her, and—

Slaps a hand over Komaru’s eyes with a groan. “Enoshima, wh-what the fuck, you—” She holds off on the ( derogatory ) word she wants to say, and just scowls at the sight before her. “This isn’t a...a nude beach? Are you t-t-trying to get us in trouble or something?” Granted she’s not technically completely nude, but also more revealing than she should be. Seriously, she would’ve figured that Ishimaru would’ve already told Enoshima off already because what else is he good for ( then again, he is single-handedly the only person who would probably take no real issue with it, or be naively convinced by her that it wasn’t really a problem, so maybe she really shouldn’t be that surprised ).

Enoshima cackles at her. “Don’t be a prude, Fukawa! Or are you jealous? I’m just trying to get a sick tan.” While she’s at it, where the hell is Ikusaba to keep her sister in check? Whatever, that’s not really important, and she refuses to dignify that with a response given that Enoshima probably only wants to get a rise out of her.

Instead, she makes sure to put a decent distance between them before removing her hand from over Komaru’s eyes with a huff. “Urgh, honestly...what on earth m-made her think that was a, a good idea?” She grumbles, glancing around now that she doesn’t have to stare directly at...that.

Actually, now that she looks around, the only seemingly responsible person from their class currently present was Oogami— and honestly, she seems too busy being in love with her girlfriend to count ( if it wasn’t kind of heartwarming, she’d probably be disgusted. Not in a homophobic way, in a general ew PDA sort of way ). As for any else viably responsible: Kirigiri being absent wasn’t a surprise, Fujisaki’s too soft to really keep people in check, Byakuya is...his own entirely separate category, and she would rather die than count Hagakure as responsible in any capacity. And Makoto might be a voice of reason, but she’s pretty sure he’s utterly useless here. Which is probably a horrible sign of things to come, but what else did she expect from anything involving her peers?

“You don’t want to go in the water, right?” Komaru’s voice cuts in through her thoughts, watching her closely before taking her hand to start pulling her along then. “We should set up somewhere to sit, then!”

We? She thinks, but instead attempts to free her hand from her grip and voices, “...Don’t you want to go in th-the water with the rest of them? You don’t have to, uh, to stay with me, you know. I’m not a k-k-kid.”

Her expression looks conflicted. “Well, yeah, of course I do want to! But only for a bit, probably? I mean, it’d be kind of rude to leave you alone since I asked you to come?”

She ignores the way her stomach twists at that, and purses her lips. “Technically s-speaking, Makoto asked first. You aren’t— it’s not rude of you to want...to want to have some fun without me. I know I’m n-n-not fun to stick around.” She knows she wouldn’t want to stick around herself if she had the choice. “It’s not like, like I wasn’t prepared for th-that.”

“Yeah, but— that’s the thing. You shouldn’t be! And I want to spend time with everyone, and that includes you too.” And now she’s sulking. God. Fukawa is about to growl back something she’ll probably regret saying, but is saved from doing so by a much calmer voice interrupting, having overheard their argument.

“Why don’t you go join your brother for a bit? Fukawa-san can join us if she would like to. We have an extra seat.”

Celes looks hot— and she means that in a very literal sense ( mostly ), decked out in one of her usual frilly black dresses. She looks out of place in the hot summer heat. Touko is also not sure where and how she managed to get a table out here ( and tea, apparently, and you know what she’s just not going to question it ), but Fujisaki is already pulling out the extra seat in offering, and she sighs reluctantly. Better this than feeling like she’s holding Komaru back.

“G-G-Go. Or...or I’ll let Syo toss you in the water.” Not really a threat - if anything, Syo would dive bomb into the water with her. Argh, maybe she should’ve just let them front today...

( No, no she shouldn’t have. The only person currently present that Syo would’ve mostly listened to would be Komaru— and maybe Makoto or Fujisaki if they were feeling generous— which is an entirely different set of issues she doesn’t want to linger on. Needless to say, she doesn’t particularly want Syo to cause chaos today )

Touko is saved from having to argue further with her on this because as Komaru opens her mouth to protest, Yuta comes to steal her away, blabbering on about something about a game they should play: and while he’s definitely as oblivious as his sister, she’ll consider that a good thing, just this once. The only words Komaru manages to get in is to ask Toko to keep her bag for her, which she would’ve done anyways, picking it up from where she’d dropped it. She watches them wander off ( and only looks away when Komaru starts discarding the clothes she’d been wearing over her swimsuit ) before trudging over to sit next to Fujisaki, who flashes her a small smile as she types away on her laptop.

“I am surprised you came, Fukawa-san. You do not seem like the type for these activities. You are usually quite disinterested in participating in these kinds of things, in fact. Did something change?” Ugh. This is why Touko hates being around Ludenberg. Because she’s observant, generally only bested by Kirigiri in that regard, and is generally good at picking people apart when it comes to lies and acts and fronts ( though Touko would argue this is from personal experience, and not from being a gambler ). And this fact would have irritated her, quite honestly, if she had not self-sabatoged herself by taking it as an insult, instead.

“I-I-I get it. No one really wants...wants me here. That’s what you meant, right...? You don’t have to r-remind me.” She grits her teeth. If nothing else, when she isn’t busy lying, Touko can appreciate her honesty. The tiny hand that wraps around her wrist stops her from saying anything further, even if it doesn’t take much to wrench her arm out of Fujisaki’s grasp: but she gets the feeling she is only able to do so because she isn’t actually trying to hold on too tightly.

“I’m sure th-that’s not what she meant, Fukawa-san...” Ever quick to play peacekeeper, she supposes. Touko simply grumbles at her and rolls her eyes. “...Especially since not everyone was available today, it’s nice that you were able to join us!”

“Yes, it is a shame. I would have liked for Yamada-kun to have been able to help with my tea, today.” Celes sighs as if disappointed— really? That’s what she’s on about?

Touko does a second look at who is not currently gathered, and denotes, “Is Maizono st-still out on tour...?” She thinks Komaru had mentioned something like that in passing.

“Yes! Maizono-san is on tour, Yamada-kun is at an important convention, Ikusaba-san, she’s...doing some kind of training...? I think Kirigiri-san is supposed to be on the tail end of a rough case, and...” Here Fujisaki pauses to giggle into her hand. “I sh-shouldn’t really laugh at this really, but Ishimaru-kun got sick. Oowada-kun had to force him to rest since he had been trying to work through it and made it worse for himself... or so that’s what I was told.”

Oh, so that’s the reason she hasn’t heard the loudmouths today? She might take back her sentiments on Ishimaru being useless, but he’s on thin fucking ice. Of course the overachiever would get sick during the summer holidays— apparently, she’s not alone in that thought.

“Only Ishimaru-kun would get sick during vacation and still manage to find a reason to not take a break.” Celes rolls her eyes, but Touko gets the feeling she’s amused too.

“So wh-what you’re saying is, uh, is that Oowada’s going to get sick next...right? I guess— we’ll find out if idiots get s-s-sick or not.” Touko quips— which earns a softer laugh from Fujisaki, so that’s pretty good.

Of course, it wouldn’t be like her if she didn’t put her foot in her mouth almost immediately afterwards by asking why they aren’t going in the water: she’s not really surprised because Celes rarely participates in gym ( and coming from Touko that says a lot ), but she was pretty sure Fujisaki wasn’t that self-conscious of herself. Not as much? Not that she really has any place to talk in that regard.

“Well, we already went to the beach at the start of the summer holidays! I’m not really missing out on anything, and it’s probably not my last opportunity to go during this break anyways.” And then, a little more sheepishly. “...Also I’m close to making a breakthrough on this code, I think. I wanted the fresh air, but I don’t really think I can afford to take much of a break right now.”

“She would have stayed on the train if I did not warn her we were approaching our stop, I believe. And not all of us can be like Enoshima. The brazenness of that woman is truly something else.” Touko is not sure if she says that from a place of respect or fear, and honestly she relates. And also doesn’t say any further on the subject because Celes gives her a dirty look.

Her gaze goes back out to their peers— she is pointedly avoiding needing to look at where Enoshima is— and spots Komaru and Yuta splashing around with Aoi and Oogami. Well, it looks like just splashing at least, from where she’s at. And Hagakure, who really just looks like an out-of-place sea cretin with the way his hair floats on the water’s surface, so. There’s that?

( No, she’s not at all envious of the fact that all of them get to have fun because they don’t have crippling fears: the ocean does not instill the same fear of confinement that a cramped bathtub does, but fear— there is still the fear that something will tug her down and her body will simply let herself dragged underneath out of instinct, a fear of something worse if she tries to fight for survival— )

Focus. She can feel the way her breath catches a little, the uneasy way her heart beats and concentrates on calming down. She doesn’t seem to have gotten Syo’s attention yet, nor anyone else’s, thankfully. She’ll just...watch Komaru for now, yeah. It takes a moment to relocate her, head breaching from underneath the water and surfacing like...like one of the sea’s legendary enchantresses. She means that in a wholly respectful way, of course, watching the way she shakes the water from her hair, mouth open in a wide grin while she laughs. Touko doesn’t need to hear her to know that on the sole basis of her appearance— the bright look in her eyes is enough to say she is happily enjoying herself without her.

On that note, hm. Maybe she can use some of that for the basis of her next novel— something about a siren and a lady visiting the sea? Tragic romances are always a hit, aren’t they? Okay maybe a tragic lesbian romance is more self-projection, but that's besides the point. No one has to know its self-projection if people eat it up like anything else that has her name on it.

Or maybe you need to talk to a therapist more often? Syo contributes helpfully, apparently having become more conscious at some point. Maybe her panic hadn’t gone as unnoticed as she thought. Not that they’re wrong, but talking to a therapist isn’t exactly going to help with her gay pining ( unfortunately, she wishes it were that simple ).

Yeah, that’s not something she really wants to linger on, and as if Celes can read her mind, says, “How do you ladies feel about a bet?”

“Pass.” Touko says immediately, because she is arguably far from a smart person, but she is smart enough to know to not take her chances against the ultimate gambler. Celes ignores her.

“You see, I would bet that Komaru—”

“No. We’re leaving h-her out of it.” Toko interrupts, and Fujisaki ( thankfully, like the god sent angel she is, even if she seems too good to be real ) nods her agreement.

“I don’t think Naegi-kun would be really happy if he heard us talking about his little sister like that...” Her reasoning is fair, if nothing else.

“Fine. Do you think Naegi-kun is going to interfere on Togami-kun’s behalf, or help Kuwata-kun?” A painted fingernail points out the trio by the sea. Kuwata seems pretty intent on forcing Togami into the sea, suit and all, much to his disdain. The duo is yelling, probably. On the other hand, Makoto just looks like he doesn’t know whose side he’s supposed to be on here.

In the end, it doesn’t matter because by some luck ( or lack thereof ) Togami manages to trip on a washed up stone and ends up taking the other two boys down with him. The heir doesn’t even look all that mad, really, as Kuwata dunks him back under the water in retaliation: she knows what his angry face is, and that is not it, even if it looks kind of like he’s swallowing a lemon.

Or maybe that’s just her and her sour mood feeling like she’s swallowed several lemons raw because Touko doesn’t know how to make lemonade out of all the citrus life has handed her.

“By the way Fukawa-san, about Komaru—” Celes starts, but is interrupted by Komaru’s sharp yelling, which is followed by the wet feeling of her arms wrapping around her. Touko frowns, pushing her away.

“You’re w-wet.” She states the obvious as she makes a face, not that that seems to stop her. “Are you...you're done going in the water f-f-for now?”

“Mhm! It’s too cold in the water, honestly. You’re nice and warm.” Komaru hums happily, and she grabs a towel from her bag to wrap her up in it before she ends up being the next sick kid. “I was thinking we could maybe spilt a snack...? And then we could make a sandcastle! Asahina-san was telling me about shells she saw earlier that we could use?” Touko bites back a small snort at how childish she sounds.

“Yeah, yeah— let go of me, s-so I can get up...” She agrees, ignoring the curious way Celes’ watches their interactions. She mutters something that passes for a thanks before she leaves ( not that she thinks Fujisaki notices at that point, full enraptured by her laptop screen ).

By snack, Touko realizes that this is more of a way of making sure she eats lunch— Syo had not so accidentally let it slip once that when she gets caught up on things, she has the tendency to skip meals. She bites her tongue on saying that it wasn’t necessary and instead pays for their meal because she can do that, she has the money to spare for that kind of thing: and she knows she doesn’t need to, but sometimes she feels like she needs to make it up to her before Komaru gets sick of their friendship.

And if it comes off like a date, that’s simply just coincidence.

When they return to the shore, Komaru drags her off to an area a little more secluded— she doesn’t really realize this at first, simply accepting her fate to follow along, but notices she can’t really hear anyone else. It helps her relax, feel like she doesn’t need to be so guarded.

( It doesn’t stop Touko from briefly complaining about how sandy she’s going to get because of this, which is annoying. And then immediately shuts up because Komaru offers to let her borrow her clothes, and she has nothing coherent that she can say to that. She eventually manages to spit out a no when it becomes obvious Komaru is waiting for her to say something )

“Well, okay then. You can always let me know if you change your mind.” She says, then, “Oooh, Touko-chan! It looks like there are tide pools over here!”

Komaru leaves her to pick out shells for them to use while she does the dirty work of constructing a sand castle. “So you won’t end up too sandy,” she explains. “And I trust your eyes to pick out nice shells.” She can’t really complain— although she almost makes a scathing comment about the fact that her eyes can't really be trusted when she wears glasses— and just keeps away from the waves for the most part. The water laps at her feet while she lingers around the tide pool, and then returns with the fruits of her search.

It’s...not an awfully constructed sand castle. Well, that’s probably more than a little generous to say. You know, if she was going to compare it to something kids made. As it stands ( or doesn’t, if Touko is being honest ), it’s probably not the most...concretely built and looks like part of the base might fall apart at any moment, but doesn’t say anything as she dumps an assortment of shells at her feet. And then pulls out a towel, so she can sit and watch her work. It feels like there’s another problem with this, but she can’t quite place what it is; it’s probably not important enough to point out.

Going back to the novel idea: maybe it’s not about a siren after all. Maybe it’s about a sea princess instead. A lonely girl drowning in the waters called home, in a lonely castle, and—

“Here you go!” Komaru plops a shell into her hand with no warning and beams at her. “It’s nice and pretty just like you, Touko-chan. So you should keep it!”

She definitely doesn’t almost tear up upon hearing that, swallowing thickly as she bites back a self-deprecating, Are you sure it’s not just ugly like me? Instead, she picks out a small shell from the pile and holds it out to her.

“...H-H-Here. Completely plain and, and average like you.” And cute, but that’s not important. Still, Komaru looks like she’s actually said something of worth as she throws her arms around her neck.

“Thank you! I’ll take good care of it.” She acts like she’s given her a houseplant or something of actual value, and not a shell.

Stiffly— because she still really doesn’t know how to respond in these kinds of moments, despite being friends for a few odd months now— Touko pats her back and mutters, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is!” Komaru pouts at her. “It is to me. Isn’t that enough?”

She opens her mouth to point out that she’d really just been reciprocating a gesture, but the wave crashing over them interrupts the conversation— oh yeah, she thinks absently. That’d been the other problem that she’d noticed when Komaru had started building, but hadn’t thought it was a big enough issue to point out.

Once she processes that yes, that happens, her first thought is how cold she is now, soaked to the bone. Touko represses a shudder and tries to ignore the fact that she will need to shower later because salt water gets itchy. The second thing that occurs to her, in the midst of this, is that now Komaru is wailing into her shoulder.

“I should’ve been more careful, I’m sorry Touko-chan! You’re okay? You aren’t upset, are you? I thought th—” Touko leans forward to cut her off. Her lips taste like salt, and vaguely reminiscent of the sweet snack Komaru had coaxed her into splitting. She wants to bite down on her lip, a nervous habit, and pulls back before she can accidentally manage to bite the other’s lips instead. The implications of that are a lot more than she’s willing to handle right now, and averts her gaze as soon as she leans back, so she does not have to acknowledge her actions.

That doesn’t stop Komaru from throwing her arms around her a little too eagerly, a grunt at the impact of their bodies colliding. “Too m-much.” Touko manages to wheeze out, and before she can start apologizing again, follows with, “I’m not upset. I should probably just...just buy something overpriced from one of th-the nearby shops since our clothes are soaked now...”

She takes this in fairly good stride, jumping to her feet and pulling her up by her hands. “Can I pick out an outfit for you? It’ll be fun!”

Their ideas of fun are very different quite frankly, but considering Komaru won’t overthink her appearance like she does, thus meaning it’ll be more time efficient. And quite frankly, she’s tired, so she just agrees. On the condition they can just go take a nap in the car afterwards.

Touko doesn’t quite agree with Komaru’s fashion choices, but she picks out clothes that cover up everything that needs to be hidden, so she can’t exactly complain. Nor does she complain when they do less napping and more snuggling in the backseat. Which means on the ride back, Komaru ends up falling asleep on her shoulder. She thinks about how pretty she looks in the light of the sunset.

Maybe she can rethink her next novel being a romantic tragedy.

#tokomaru week 2021 #toukomaru #tokomaru #komaru naegi #toko fukawa #touko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes

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bxthharmon · 4 years

Text

Never Go Home Again, Pt. XI || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words: 2910

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: Abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes, sex and sex tapes

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy. teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: JJ and Y/N reconcile upon her return

A/N: and yall are finally gonna learn the readers story lmao. im going to bed like, asap

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

You’d known JJ for over a month, and you’d never been nervous to see him. You always felt comfortable, and sure, you felt fluttery when he kissed your cheek, flirted with you, put his arm over your shoulders, but you’d never felt like this. You fiddled with the friendship bracelet Kie had made you a week ago, and chewed on your lip as you sat on the porch of the Chateau. You could hear someone in the garden, but made no move to see who it was, stuck in stasis as you stressed. Your vision was cloudy. Everything he had said, it hurt. It hurt because it was true. You hadn’t been honest with him, with any of them, and they had welcomed you and helped you for weeks now. You needed to come clean. They deserved to know - JJ deserved to know - and it was unfair of you to keep it from them any longer.

It was all still fresh. It had been three months since the divorce was finalised. Two months since everything went down with Tyler. One month since you met JJ. You closed your eyes, psyching yourself up. Was John B home? Kie or Pope over? Was JJ even there, or was he home? You wondered, Please don’t let him have been home.

You heard an engine, and looked up. Pope’s car rolled up, and you stood, Kie popping the door open and pulling you into a close hug. She pulled away, eyes shining, “We didn’t know where you were - you weren’t answering calls and your dad only said you’d gone away.” she blinked slowly, opening her eyes again with a determined light.

“We thought you were dead.” you looked away from Kie, seeing Pope. You pulled him into a hug. “JJ’s been a mess. He stole 30 Gs off a drug dealer.”

You smiled slightly, “I’m sorry for leaving like that. And I’m sorry for hiding everything. JJ was right, I haven’t been honest, and that’s not fair, you guys mean the world to me.”

Pope nodded, “You needed time, that’s okay. You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

You thanked him. “Did JJ go home?”

“I think so.” Kie murmured, and you swore.

“I haven’t even been home yet.”

There was a whirring behind you, and you all turned, the trees igniting in gold as a stupid amount of fairy lights lit up you small scene. You raised your eyebrows.

“What the hell?” asked Pope, the three of you in matching surprised expressions.

“Who the hell is that?” Kie questioned, leading you and Pope through the trees.

Lights illuminated the clearing outside the Chateau, gold and red shining brightly on the scene before you. A jacuzzi, lit with floating flamingo drink-holders, surrounded JJ, shirtless with a pair of stolen glasses. He held a champagne flute in one hand, and you heard the pop of a bottle opening. The three of you stood across from him.

You could see, plain as anything, he was at breaking point. The combination of the hunt, his dad, and you had unravelled him. I did this, a voice commanded, this was me.

“What did you do, JJ?” Pope asked, taking in the brilliantly lit display.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now.” he crooked the glasses, down, looking over the three of you with unfocussed eyes. “Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me?” he sloppily poured a drink “Salud!”

Your heart broke for him. His eyes fell on you, “Y/N?” he slurred, “Y/N! I thought you were-” hiccup, “-dead! You just, uh, you just disappeared.”

“I’m sorry.” you sighed.

“No - no!” he shook his head, voice too gleeful for his words, “I’m sorry!” he tipped his head back as he downed the champagne straight from the bottle.

“How much did this cost?” Pope interrupted.

“Uh… well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery…” he chuckled, “pretty much all of it, yeah.”

You kept your eyes on him, knowing that one too many questions would release a dam full of emotions he’d been hiding for years.

“All of it?” Pope stepped forwards.

“Yeah, all of it.” JJ repeated.

“You spent all the money in one day?”

“Pope,” you muttered, knowing JJ wouldn’t last.

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket.” JJ confirmed, gesturing sloppily. “But, I mean, like, come on - guys - like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me!” Kie looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?” his voice was hoarse, and you felt worry building in your stomach and pounding at your head. He whipped his glasses off, “Come on, all this scrimpin’ and scrapin’...” his voice went soft, “I mean like - guys, we - you only live once, right? Enough of this emotional shit, get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on!”

“In the what?” you frowned.

“In the Cat’s Ass.” he shrugged, a small, drunk smirk playing at his lips, “That’s what I named her. Oh! Hey, yo, I almost forgot!” he switched a button, and the water lit up, a light flashing as the already bright display got weirder. He was about to break. “Yeah, that’s right, I now. Disco mode! That’s right, baby!”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope cut in, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a second, knowing that he and Kie were pulling at a tether that was seconds from coming loose. “You could have paid for restitution!”

“Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie added.

“Or better yet, you could have helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!”

“Okay well you know what? I didn’t do that!” JJ burst forwards, showing a selection of purple bruises littering his torso. “I got a hot tub!” you kicked off your shoes, tears building at the thought that the person supposed to love him the most would hurt him like that, “For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No, you know what? Screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family! I got this for you! Look, guys, look what I did for you! Alright? Look at this! Look at this! No, you stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?” You stepped forwards as he continued, stepping over the walls of the tub and pulling him in, letting him cling to you. You let him sob on you. “I just couldn’t do it.” He was convulsing with sobs while you tried your best not to, knowing you had to be strong for him. You had to. “I couldn’t take him anymore! I was gonna kill him.” You felt Pope and Kie’s arms wrap around the pair of you, the lot of you wet with tears and hot tub water. “I just wanna do the right thing.”

“I know.” you murmured, stroking his hair and closing your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing steady.

Kie and Pope got out first, leaving after you told them you’d deal with him. You sat him down in the tub again, turning the jets off. You wiped away the last of his tears, gently prying the champagne away from him. You stroked his hair, letting him lean on your shoulder until his breathing returned to normal. You stood up then, helping him out of the tub and guiding him to the bathroom, where you sat him down on the closed toilet seat as you ran a hot bath. You distracted him by reminding him of your best memories since you met him, until the bath was full. You helped him in, washing the chlorine out of his hair, and letting him relax.

You sat on the edge of the tub as he blinked up at you, sobering up quickly. He lifted a hand from the water, touching your waist tentatively.

“Where did you go?” he whispered, the silence pressing down thickly.

“To see an old friend.” you hadn’t thought about your leaving for hours, and now you did, you wondered how broken he’d be when he found out you’d slept with two people while you were gone.

“You went to LA.” he muttered.

“Yeah.” you nodded slowly, touching his cheek, lightly. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked at you, confusion painted in his features. “Why?”

“I left.” you helped him stand up, guiding him out of the bath. You handed him the towel you’d found, leaving him to get him a change of clothes. You picked out a top and joggers, brushing away a stray tear before rejoining him. You turned around while he changed, then lay him down in the spare bed. You draped the blanket over him, changing quickly into the only other joggers you could find, and one of his tops. You lay down in front of him, taking in his bright, cobalt eyes and soft pink lips.

“Why did you go?” he sounded broken. So broken.

“I felt trapped, like you would all hate me. So I went to see the people who I knew would be there for me, no matter what. Then I realised that, more than anyone, more than my friends in Cali, that was you guys.” he gazed at you, a strange look in his eyes as he processed your words.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” he closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, there was a teary sheen to them.

“No.” you rejected his claim. “I needed it. I’ve been avoiding it, thinking that would make it all go away. It was stupid. If you hadn’t have yelled, I wouldn’t have gone. And if I hadn’t have gone, I’d have avoided it for the rest of my life.”

He let a tear slip. “I fucked up.” he murmured. “I fucked us up.”

“No. No, I did it. I wasn’t honest. I was so desperate not to repeat what had happened that I pushed you away.”

“What did happen?”

“Where do I start?”

“At the beginning.”

Your parents loved each other. They lit up when the other entered the room, and looked at each other like the world revolved around them. They met young, in highschool. Your mom was pregnant with your brother by senior year, and they got married when school was over. Three years later, once they had a house and two steady jobs, they had you. Highschool sweethearts, it always seemed perfect.

You were convinced they were perfect, until you were ten. They had a huge argument, so big, so loud, that the neighbours called the cops, and you and Lewis had to spend the night at friends’ houses. They never argued like that again.

You knew they loved each other, even after that. Over three years later, on the brink of your fourteenth birthday, you noticed they hardly spoke anymore. Family meals stopped, and they avoided each other at all costs. After a few weeks, you came home to a floor covered in glass and crockery, and your parents sitting across from each other crying. Things were perfect for two more years.

Then, she started getting angry. She threw things, hit things, broke things. She took out all of her frustrations on the family, never caring to explain herself.

Your mom lost her job, but was still out all day, everyday. You saw her with another man three months after. When you saw her, you understood something.

Your mom hated her life. She hated not being able to afford things, not being able to go on holiday, not being able to treat herself. She wanted to live a life more glamorous than what your father could give her. You hated her for it.

You asked her about it the next day.

Your brother and dad got home to see her things packed, and you sitting at the kitchen table, bruises around your neck and a cut over your right eyebrow. The divorce papers arrived within a week.

She didn’t fight for custody. She didn’t call. She didn’t try to see you.

JJ nodded slowly, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. “She’s been calling you.” he murmured.

“She feels bad.” you shrugged, “I had a go at her, she hasn’t called since.”

“Did you see her while you were in LA?”

“No, she lives in Brentwood, I didn’t want to waste my time there.”

“Fuck her.”

“Yeah.” you smiled, “Fuck her.”

“Y/N?” he whispered, “Thanks for telling me that.”

“Your welcome.” You shrugged.

“Who’s Tyler?”

“My ex.”

“What did he do to you?”

You searched his eyes, knowing you had to tell him. You took a deep breath.

You met Tyler in middle school. He was the tallest in the class by an inch and a half, and the best looking. You were best friends with Cassie, and Cassie’s parents knew his parents, so you were friends by association. You cruised through middle school, skating with him and his friends when you weren’t at school or hanging out with Cassie.

At some point in Freshman year of high school, his friends stopped joining your skating days, and you and Tyler got close. He asked you out near the end of the year, and you said yes. You spent your summer drinking and smoking with Cassie or skating with Tyler, losing your virginity to him just before the start of your sophomore year. You went steadily for a year, letting your relationship become more and more toxic, until he would throw fits if you so much as spoke to another guy. You lost your friends as he tightened his grip around you, keeping you close with threats and bribes.

He was the only one who was there for you when your mom started cheating, because he was the only one you talked to. You let yourself be vulnerable, and he took advantage of it. You went out with Cassie just before that night with your mom, telling her about your failing relationship and breaking family. She was the one who told you to break up with him.

You waited three days.

He took it well. Nodded, didn’t cry, left quickly.

The next day, your life was hell. You got pulled from English by the police, and taken to the principal's office, and sat down. He told you that a load of photos and two videos had been leaked from an anonymous account. Nudes, two sex tapes. You didn’t even know the videos existed. It was all over Instagram, and even a couple of porn sites.

You didn’t even know. Not until that moment. No one mentioned it, they just gave you funny looks. It all made sense. Your dad came in, they explained it all to him. They traced it to Tyler’s phone, and your dad chose to press charges.

You saw Tyler a couple of times, in huge, explosive fights outside his house. The case was days away from success, days from him being sued, an agreement saying he’d never be able to share them. Then, your mom came back. It had been almost a month, but she came back, taking almost every penny your dad owned.

Unable to afford the lawyer as well as the moving fees, the case fell through. You only found out about the move the next day, talks of it having been circulating for a few weeks. You had three days, and in those days, all of your friends fell out with you, deciding you had chosen to hide it, not believing that you hadn’t known. Your only ally was Cassie.

You moved, and then, you met JJ.

JJ’s eyes were glittering, shining, with fury. He was hurt at the idea that someone would hurt you like that. He wanted to hit something, but given your vulnerable state, tried to remain calm. You nestled into him, breathing sporadic as you processed the fact that you had said it out loud. He ran his hand over the bare skin under your borrowed top, an act of comfort that spoke the thousands of words he didn’t know how to say. The air felt thick with tragedy, hanging over the pair of you like a suffocating blanket.

The night was raw, painful. Wounds that were hardly healed were torn open, twice as big, exposed, hurtful. Both of you, teenagers who’d been through more than any teenager should have, hurting. You didn’t move for a long time, the comfortable silence consuming you. His breathing was slow, resting. He slipped into a well-deserved slumber, as you listened to his heartbeat. You realised that you felt something for him. You’d never felt it before, not even with Tyler. You felt your heart swell when you thought about him, and contract painfully when you thought about his hurt. You decided you would protect the boy until the day you died, because God knows he needed it.

Always the protector, helper, giver. He deserved to be protected. He deserved more than what he had, more than you could offer, but it didn’t matter, because as long as you were able to, you’d try and be what he needed, deserved, wanted. It came out as a whisper, breaking the long, peaceful silence. Rough and straightforward, plain and forward, but full of meaning. Full of the emotions you’d hidden from him, the thoughts that plagued you at night, the words you’d tried to push down for weeks now.

“I love you.”

Tags: @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @lolitstiana @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @teamnick @thoughtsofthestars @obxmxybxnk @jjmaybankswife @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @sxcretinhuman @alexa-playafricabytoto @angvelics @badwolf00593 @coloradogirl07 @mendesmaybank @jiaraendgame @5am-cigarette @emerald-xcd @haharudy

#obx #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #kie #kie carrera #kiara #kiara carrera #pope #pope heyward

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jjuzoir · 4 years

Note

haiiii (idk if im doing this right-) but can u do a mc x eugene (from dangerous fellows) fanfic?thank u uwu💜

Request:

A/N: hi! you are doing absolutely amazingly don’t worry! this was actually very damn fun to write,,, but i’m gonna do a short bullet point fic and a small drabble that takes place after the end of the fic!

————🌷————

Realism | Eugene

- So! You met during the apocalypse and that’s not very… you know, romantic.

- But somehow, you two kind of fell for each other.

- It’s kind of silly when you think about it, in a life or death and in such a survive or die situation you still managed to fall in love with Eugene.

- At first, he kind of pushed you away with his pessimistic almost depressing point of view.

- That and his edgy comments and rude remarks made your grumble in annoyance.

- His constant dark remarks anguished you a lot, especially since he seemed to constantly want to remind the group after you tried to cheer things up.

- But still... he was kinda cute when he kept his mouth shut.

- “Being realistic and pessimistic are two different things, Eugene,” you whispered harshly at him during one particular night shift.

- “And being optimistic and stupid are also two very different things, [Name],” he responded annoyed at you.

- After that you argued a little bit and then you two kind… started understanding where the other came from.

- And that’s how a very unexpected friendship formed.

- On one hand there was you trying your best to look at the positive side of things and then there was Eugene who did not like the situation and constantly reminded everyone that he did not like the situation.

- You two balanced each other out a lot, neutralising the negativity and the positivity into a very nice balance of realism.

- Slowly, his remarks started to be softer and it was like he actually felt bad when he hurt you and you stopped calling him as many names as you used to.

- Zion describes you two as the group’s emotional brain-cells.

- And when you two were caught kissing by a flustered Harry and Lawrence no one was surprised.

- Dating Eugene during the literal apocalypse was probably one of the few things that kept you from going insane.

- And so you two started sharing a classroom, duh.

- During patrols you two were always paired together and were often found around the music room where Eugene would show you the songs he planned on recording once things were over.

- And when he told you that same exact quote you broke down crying and at first he didn’t understand why until you pointed it out while hugging him.

- “You said ‘once things were over’, dummy,” you whispered into his shirt.

- “O-Of course we’re gonna survive,” he looked around the room blushing red, “I ain’t letting you die on me.”

- It meant so much because it was a sign from him that he had now started to see things in a more positive light.

- And you were proud of him, because you both knew how scary it was to not know if you’d survive.

- After that, you two became even closer and Zion grew more and more uncomfortable with you two and your affection.

- “Dude please stop we’re in the apocalypse stop being all romantic and shit.”

- But that changed once you both found out about the safe zone, a heaven on earth.

- And that’s how you two tried and failed to convince Lawrence to take the whole group to the safe zone, accidentally triggering him to attempt to kill everyone.

- At the end, from what you knew, only you and Eugene made it out alive that night.

- You both ran until your legs gave out in front of a huge stadium, the only chance of survival you had left.

- You two were rushed in and checked out for any sign of injury or infection.

- Surprisingly, the safe zone was quite empty.

- Only a couple hundred people, shocking considering the size of the town you lived in.

- Police officers filled you both in; Many people were infected and it was too late to save them and not everyone had successfully reached confinement.

- Once you were left alone, you both hugged each other.

- A hug way longer than any hug he’d let you two share before.

- Worried about your friends you informed the police officers about the school and fear of them not making it.

- They assured you both they’d look into it as soon as they got more supplies and orders from the government.

- Eugene and you shared a tent you would now call home until news from the government came.

- It was awkward at first, especially not knowing if your friends were still alive but at least you had each other.

- You two stayed there for three weeks until you two were allowed to move into a hospital that hadn’t been touched in the mountain side, Eugene, you, and a couple of other survivors were taken from the stadium to the new location.

- Much to your horror; what about the group? Had they made it? Your thoughts almost mimicked the ones you had gotten the first day of the outbreak; except now, they were possibly worse. You wouldn’t know about them...

- The brown-haired boy took you into his arms and hugged you tightly; “Being optimistic and realistic are two different things, [Name], stop being a crybaby...”

- You sniffled into his worn down gray sweatshirt and nodded. He smelled like shit, really, but even then you still felt comfortable in his arms.

- “Let’s hope Lawrence got his shit together and that we’ll meet them again.”

- And that’s the day you two shared your firsts “I love you”.

- “I love you, Eugene.”

- “I love you too, idiot.”

——

It had been 2 weeks since you had arrived at the hospital, a hospital that had been turned into a shelter of sorts.

It was hidden in the mountains but it was near enough that the government could bring you food and utilities. It had a water source nearby allowing you all to bathe and drink water with no worries, you always had three meals a day and a warm bed. It surprised you that it was only five weeks ago that you were in a rundown high school sleeping on a cold bedroom floor.

Now you shared a bed and room with your boyfriend, Eugene. A sanitized room with a nice warm bed and a window to the mountain sides, you had filled it rather quickly with Eugene with trinkets and plants you had found; all in hopes of salvaging any sort of normality in the situation. The government had outdid itself really, it managed to build hundreds of small shelters for the survivors while actively looking for a cure and from what the news had said, after a particular breakthrough they estimated they’d finish their first prototype in a month's time.

However, no matter the amount of good news that came your way you were still plagued by the nightmares of the night Lawrence lost his mind and went berserk on you. You could still hear the sound of glass shattering from the force the living dead used to break into what once was a safe haven for you. You could only wish and pray the remainder of the group got out on time.

Probably sensing your worries, you felt your boyfriend’s arms circle your waist in a hug. His breath on your shoulders a reminder that he was here and that, at the very least, you weren’t alone.

“They’re gonna be fine,” Eugene whispered, his soft hair (which he had finally washed for the first time in weeks) tickles your cheek.

“How do we know? We barely could make it out and we were close to the exit as it was,” you looked at him in worry, his dark eyes looked back at yours filled with affection. Such gentle affection you wondered if he was the same Eugene you had met weeks earlier.

“We don’t, but as you said once, there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of hope,” he painfully squeezed your cheek until it turned red before kissing you.

You leaned against his chest and gently caressed his hands as they drummed a soft pattern against your chest, a warm and carefree moment painted in oranges by the setting sun.

“When did you get so sensitive and smart?” You laughed as you both watched the sun set from your room, an odd sense of peace washing over you.

“I’ve always been a genius, [Name],” Eugene responded in fake offense, his tone way too annoying, “Who do ya’ think I am?”

“You know I love you to bits, right?” You turned your head gently to the side to admire his profile; sharp nose, long lashes; he looked out of a painting. As cheesy as it sounded you felt the need to remind him, you knew he felt guilty as well, you could still remember his face when you two first heard the music blasting from the speakers, and you hoped your words didn’t cut into any open-wounds.

“Yes I do,” he looked at you as he leaned to rest his head against your shoulder, “Bug ya’ know I love you more, right?”

“Tch, this ain’t a competition,” You snorted, “and impossible, I love you to death, asshole.”

“Nah, I love you more,” Eugen challenged you before picking you up and throwing you against the bed, you bounced up and down shrinking in horror as he wrapped his hands against you sides.

“No you don’t-! Eugene stop!” You gasped as he tickled your sides harshly, “Stop!”

“Nope, not until you admit I love you more,” he continued being merciless. This was off enough in his character for you to know he was doing his best to keep your mind off any negativity and you appreciated his efforts.

“N-no-! Gah, fine! Fine y-you win, you love me the most, Eugene stop-! Just let me breathe, oh my god!” You gasped for air tears trickled against your cheeks.

“Good,” he smirked as he looked down at you and you could see the worry in his eyes, “I love you, [Name].”

“I love you too.”

#—🎀 defel!#dangerous fellows #defel #dangerous fellows x reader #defel eugene #dangerous fellows eugene #eugene x reader #requests #—📨 request #—💕 sora’s ruwubie!#—✒️ sora’s scripts

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anteroom-of-death · 4 years

Text

Life, For Dummies p6

a/n: so the words just flew out and boy. much thanks to all who read and commented and reblogged/liked! im sorry ahead of time! it will get uptempo again.optimism, babes.

You stood in the console room in wait, you had no clue the punishment that lay waiting. You didn’t know what was going to happen and that was worse than knowing. There had to be worse consequences for a consummate freak out that bordered on betrayal.

For a snap you thought of just reverting back to being her companion just to smooth things over. To stop all the madness that was bound to ensue. But you didn’t. You held your ground, despite having to run away.

You shivered involuntarily. You felt like a freezer that happened to be left open all night. You let yourself be crippled by everything. Seeing them left you blindsided, if you were a quarterback it’d have been a sack at the tenth yard line.

Did that make the Master the coach?

You ended up stripping off your blazer and leaning over the console, mildly hyperventilating. Your arms glistening with sweat in the ambient lights.

The door swung open and you hunched up. Jaw clenched your ringing in your ear came back, drowning all else out.

You swore he was speaking but your mind was so swirled with thoughts and crackles and the persistent ring you ended up trying, “Get on with it, punish me. Kill me. You know I’m no good to you now.” but it came out garbled, as if you suffered a stroke.

Maybe you did.

You started a brief list of stroke symptoms but decided, was no use. If he was going to do what you thought, he’d probably use your own laser screwdriver against you.

You suddenly remembered ages ago yourself in a similar situation. You disrespected him. You’d’ve done it three times now.

If going by the sudden need for sports metaphors you were currently riding, third strike- you’re out.

He wasn’t doing anything and that drove you absolutely insane. Clutching your sides, you spun around and met his eyes. Those eyes, so large and so beautiful and emotive were virtually unreadable. Your vision was getting blurry and your eyes started stinging. You were aghast with the day. It was a simple scheme. How could it go so wrong. You had heartburn. The acid was rising in your stomach and you tried to not hurl. The anticipation was getting to you on all levels.

You elected to allow yourself to black out. You were headed that way, so you just gave into it without a fight.

When you came to, you found yourself at your house, on your couch. Your favorite mug with your favorite tea blend was waiting for you and across the room leaning on your wall was him.

The Master. Your Master.

“Nice touch, passing out. Noble even.” His eyes yet again unreadable voids.

Your head pounded and the back of your skull was a dull pain.

You did notice and take appreciation from the pillows cupping you and your feet up.

“We need to talk.” His voice was just as unreadable as his eyes. The sentence flooded your throat and dropped into your stomach. You clenched your eyes and relaxed your jaw as you brought yourself up and cupped the mug gingerly.

“Thank you.” You gave him a meager smile in genuine thanks.

“Don’t think of it.” He waved it off.

He was uncharacteristically devoid of emotion or passion. Stoic.

You took a few sips, letting the warmth and the taste give you strength and some comfort. You had lots of experience where this was going. Why fight it? He was an ageless alien and you were a human. The fact that he gave you all you got was phenomenal.

You could feel your heart stop when you put it down. The silence was starting to get to you.

“I need some time.” He murmured, voice silky.

“How long?” You hoarsely whispered.

“No clue. I just need to process this.”

What was processing time? Feasibly for him? You could be just here for a few moments and he could have taken centuries. Or he could have taken a day or 36 hours and you could already be dead.

Maybe he was just telling you this to shake you off and stop more damage.

You wanted to fight him on it. But how? Your jaw unlocked and lay slack.

“You have a concussion. I’ve dealt with the necessary care. I put some pills that’ll take a week to heal you up properly.” He pointed towards the vicinity of your bathroom before pushing off your wall and headed towards a curio cabinet you really didn’t notice until now.

Obviously, more than a week.

“Text me?” You said.

“Maybe.” He looked at you, his eyes were big and seemed filled with nothing but agony and resolve.

You swore you saw his mouth move and a whisper of something you couldn’t make out. A different language.

He stepped in and the curio cabinet vanished from your living room.

You leaned back, the Fam mentioned that your place was dusty, but obviously he must have broken out the dust buster. That was sweet of him to take care of the place before you were unceremoniously dumped on your ass. You went for your neck. The collar that you usually stroked in times of stress was gone, along with him.

What was the date? You had no clue. Days passed, flooding into weeks. This agony of not knowing outweighed anything. You vaguely remembered the Covid-19 “shelter at home” but that was truly another life entirely.

Twenty-twenty passed on and you had to get a new job, but nothing seemed to take for you. You’d either get fired for lackadaise or not showing up or quit out of the blue because you felt deep down you deserved better. Dozens of civilizations across the stars probably still spoke of you in hushed tones as a haughty goddess, or Queen sent by the divine.

The nights were the roughest. A few times the cops were called because you were wailing in your sleep. They soon just stopped coming, unless your neighbors just accepted it as the new normal.

If you could joke, and if you were in a joking mood, you’d probably remark how this was just like Bella Swan in New Moon “sksksksksk jksk lol!” But you weren’t anymore. You weren’t in a joking mood no matter what at the time.

Life, without the Master, simply wasn’t worth living.

How could you go back? After all those stars seen? People met? And emotions felt.

You felt your heart harden and break.

You half thought of trying to push through the pain and see if you could somehow contact him. At least see if he was okay. Especially since you overheard the news at a metal bar you started working at that some strange lights followed by a subsonic explosion happened in a small city far away and there were confusing footages being leaked on social media of Daleks and death. It went away in a day, but still. You swore you heard a TARDIS in a few of the Facebook Lives people did as they died. People thought it was a hoax. People were so dumb.

It made you ache.

Maybe it was the Doctor, or the Master convincing them to go destroy somewhere more important.

It was more likely her.

You didn’t know which one would be worse, just in case more footage was released and you saw a flash of a face.

You broke again, dropping the heavy drink laden tray on the ground and locking yourself in the walk-in fridge. Rackus sobbing came out of your chest like a snarling animal. You had to get yourself together before you lost the only job you made good tips at. You knew it was purely because the uniform was trampy, and not your sparkling personality or wit. You placed your head between your thighs and screamed through it, trying to see if that would stop you from your tears. It was literally more time that had passed than you had actually ran away with him at this point.

You should have moved on. If not moved on, repress it enough to worry any mental health specialist. This wasn’t like you.

So you tried therapy.

The big mistake there was dumbing it down and humanizing the Master and the Doctor so you didn’t sound like you needed inpatient care or to go on some watchlist somewhere in the universe. Let alone your planet.

Some people somewhere might want to abduct you and harvest your organs for the residual artron energy. That could be valuable on certain markets.

Or your brainwaves. Some planets would pay rogue Time Agents to harvest them and the knowledge you knew and technology you learned.

You became more skittish when walking at night. You had gotten so used to just blasting anyone who’d try to wrong you with your screwdriver. It was a crutch you missed. Every moving shadow scared you.

You also had to consider someone, somewhere might be angry enough with him enough and see that his little human whore was no longer velcroed to his side and go look for you. Penance for his actions, delivered unto you.

Not like he would care, obviously he was far gone and far away.

Your manager came in and gave a quick look at the sight before him.

“Why are you in here? People at table 6 were complaining. Had to give them vouchers and comp their bill.”

You wiped your eyes and got out from your hutched state, “The news. So much death.” You snorted up the snot threatening to leak out.

Strange cognitive dissonance coming from someone who aided in toppling empires and had a past of executing people.

It wasn’t that, but my goodness, you had to sell it. It was a human thing to say.

“Oh, wow. I’ll give you a minute, then get back to work.” He closed the door gently and let you be.

You paced and paced and thought, “What would he do?” But all the answers involved space tech you didn’t have in a five by eight cooler. Or loud theatrics and sass.

You had none of those.

For the first time in a while, you went to your neck and rubbed at it, wishing you still belonged to him, and you knew what to do. Anger flooded through you and honestly, you didn’t know who it was directed at. The anger felt good. A blistering difference to the waves of agony and silence in you.

You bratted off and knocked down a row of premade salsas and stomped out before heading to table 6.

“Oh, so you didn’t fancy me dropping the drinks? Or whatever? You were complaining about the shape of the wings earlier? Anything else, your highnesses,“ You false curtsied before straightening out and untying your apron and tossing it on the ground, “Anything?” You spat.

They recoiled.

The paunchy middle aged man asked, “What the fucks your problem? Like, what do you want? Cause you’re definitely not getting a tip now?”

An idea shot into your brain, “What do I want?” You jabbed a finger at yourself, “I want you to kneel!” You pointed at him and made a vague “get down” gesture with your index finger.

“Kneel?”

“Kneel!” You ordered, all the chutzpah of a former self radiating through. You tossed a glass at that man’s head. It was no laser to the stomach but would do the trick. “I said, kneel for me, love.”

The blood streaming from his head as he obeyed you, his fatty neck blubbering in pain and tears streaming down his face filled you with nostalgia. It felt good to be in this position again. Someone obeying you, the fear in their eyes, the sense of power it gave you knowing that you held the keys to their fate in your hands. A small pool of wetness nearly started between your thighs. Power was just so good, and feeling the fear come to him? Icing on a perverse cake.

Him kneeling was almost as natural as it felt for you to kneel ages ago. A labored, pleased breath escaped your lungs as you smiled and let off a laugh.

You turned to your manager and gave a grimace, “I quit, I just can’t take the pressure, dock my pay for the damages. Bye.”

You grabbed your stuff from behind the bar and ran out again from yet another job.

At the back of your brain, you knew that possibly you’d go to prison for this. You assaulted a man. Out here in the real world, not the magic little world of madness, assault meant fines, sharing a prison cell with someone called Big Irma, ugly orange jumpsuits and a permanent record. Something that would prevent you from life.

Not that you had a life anymore.

You arrived home and finally allowed yourself to let out all the true amount of tears you felt. You fell asleep on the linoleum of your entrance hall waiting for the cops to show up and take you away.

You were out for over a day, you woke up so sore and dehydrated.

But the brunt of your emotions, you felt were over.

You knew you had to consolidate who you were, who you had been, and where you were now. Make yourself one person, not a section of phases altered by the presence of Time Lords.

But who were you before you’d met the Doctor and been the Master’s?

That was the hard part.

Jogging that memory up.

You massaged your temples and went over to chug water directly from the kitchen faucet.

A normal human just couldn’t force people to follow their every whim. Or flit from here or there.

Well, unless they were a politician or born to extreme wealth.

You needed to be able to hold down a job, you needed to move on. He wasn’t coming for you. You finally and truly got it through your thick, pathetic human skull…

You wiped the water off your face with your bare hands and ripped off the bar’s uniform. You hunched over in your kitchen and cursed the day you ever met either Time Lord. Cupping your face in your hand you let out another massive groan and shook yourself free.

Those topics were not to be verboten.

You had a traitorous thought, unless you worked for a government organization or paramilitary that dealt with the extraterrestrial. The job prospects for that seemed slim. You were formally in league with them. People might argue a conflict of interests or claim you were a double or triple agent. There was no true way to prove to a stupid ape that, you, another stupid ape weren’t giving off trade Earth secrets to known enemies of the planet. The list of aliens on watchlists was getting larger in the 21st century by the day. The Master definitely had to be on at least most of them. If not all. Though, the money would be quite good…

It was thought.

You were Earth-bound and just had to reintegrate. There had to be some books you could read. Life, For Dummies? Men are from Gallifrey, Women are from Earth? Something, even an obnoxious celebrity and an ill-trained life coach making a podcast on how to cope with a break up. Something.There

Easier said than done.

It had to be done, however how hard.

What a pity, what a sham.

To paraphrase a comic, you were young, shiney and dumb. Easy to fool.

You felt yourself utter, “If I ever see you again, first I’m going to kiss you, then I’m going to kick your ass.”

You pulled yourself back from those unhealthy words and bit your tongue.

This was bound to be hard.

But not impossible...

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #master x reader #doctor who self insert fiction #angst #fanfic #self insert #the master

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lordseochangbin · 4 years

Text

he’s back, for his princess ♔ ♕

description: you used to be the prettiest most popular girl back in high school when your boyfriend was around. but since he left for a music career, his enemies have bullied you. they’ve called theirs’ way too many times,, until your boyfriend comes back-- to claim you his once again.

a/n MY NEW FIC YEEEEEET (this will be short but smut,dom!changbin& fluff filled hehe) also yes the main characters name is my name what about it JSKSKSK

————————————————

“on god.. babe.. no one can make me feel like you do” changbin grunted as your body sunk in his member. what was it? like the third time this week that he’s claimed you as his? your fingernails scratched down his back as he moves inside of you, your wetness making it extra comfortable.

he turns you around, his breath hovering over your chest as he places kisses down it. the moonlight gleamed right onto the both of you, the mood set on nothing but true love in the night.

after kissing almost every visible spot to be seen changbin rested his chin on your shoulder, his cock warming inside you.

“i’m gonna miss you changbin..” you whisper into his ear.

“i’m gonna miss you too” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him. you knew this was going to be the last of the affection you’d receive from changbin before he went off into his music career, and he wouldn’t be going to college with you.

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

this was in the past of course. he left 2 years ago, and last sights of him were from a facetime call...by chan... 11 days ago. now you were in your dorm with your best friend trinity, blasting stray kids music to disturb your shitty neighbors.

“MEL MEL MEL MELLLLLLLLLLL what should i wear today???” trinity showed you two outfits, one of a cute black hoodie with ripped jeans and the other of a pink plaid skirt and a longsleeve white t-shirt.

“definitely the plaid skirt, but you’d look gorgeous in anything.. who you tryna impress??” you asked, receiving a slap in the face with a pillow

“no one loser!! now put this on” trinity threw the pink plaid shirt over to you.

“...trinity i can’t you know that”

“come on!! god it’s been like 2 years since you’ve worn something sexy, i swear to god the last time you exposed your legs was when changbin said he was gonna fuc-”

“TRINITY”

“ahh ahh, okay. ill stop” trinity rolled her eyes with a smile, yourself also trying to keep a straight face before taking the skirt

“fine... i’ll wear it. only today though” you pointed as your friend convictedly as if she was the reason you always got into trouble.

“gosh.. did changbin decide what you wore everyday or something? it’s like since he left you just plummeted”

“you don’t have to mention it again” you said, turning around and leaning on her shoulder.

“it’s okay” trinity said, patting your head. “someday your overprotective jackass of a boyfriend will come back,, and maybe minho too” she pouted

you looked at the mirror, pulling the short skirt down so no one could see your big thighs. you weren’t that stereotypical “ugly girl that met rich handsome boyfriend” type of person though, you were more of the “beautiful but never realized it” type of girl. which goes for anyone reading this, seriously. the clock ticked as the sun rose, and birds sang as the campus filled with kids stressing on a monday.

“... mel you can’t just wear something cute without makeup!! try some on!!”

your eyes rose as trinity ran towards you with a mascara brush, “g-get that thing away from me”

“NEVER MUAHAHA” trinity chased you around the entire apartment TWICE before even getting close to you.

and before you know it, she had you all dolled up.. but also late for class.

“fuck!! SHIT OH MY GOD” you grabbed your backpack and rushed out the door, “you better pay me back for this!!” you said to trinity before slamming the door.

classes felt longer than usual because you forgot to eat breakfast. but when lunch finally came, you didn’t hesitate to pack your bags and rush out the door before the others.

the campus was huge, trinity probably on the other side. you ran along the long sidewalks, your hands holding on to your backpack straps as your hair flowed through the wind. you loved the feeling of running like there was no end. it reminded you of changbin actually, when you two would run hand-in-hand on the green grass fields full of sunflowers. he was never a fan for flowers, but the way it made you feel convinced him to soften up and enjoy anything you found joy in.

it was only until a large figure blocked your way, making you brake on your heels and almost fall over.

“well well, isn’t someone looking good for wooyoung” mingi spat out, staring at you from head to toe.

“mmm, fuck she looks gorgeous. like daddy’s little whore, huh?” wooyoung followed, his eyes stepping closer as he grabbed the hem of your skirt.

“should i just rip this off in public?” he whispered in your ear. you took a step back, your lips parting as other people started to notice the scene that was taking place.

“what..? oh shit, sorry. did i take use changbin’s nickname for you?? daddy’s little whore??” wooyoung cooed

“probably so used to being called changbin’s babygirl” mingi teased.

wooyoung took another attempt at tugging your skirt down before you could kick his shin. “FUCK!” he cursed before taking your wrist in his hands and trashing you onto the floor. you feel on your side, an aching pain struck through you before trinity could get a hold of you.

“mel!! oh my god baby im...” trinity turned around to face wooyoung, “well fuck you, you couldn’t act this cocky when changbin and them were here huh?”

“says the girl who’s best friend wears short tight skirts without her boyfriend around, she might as well wear a doggie chain with changbins name on it” mingi spat before they could both disappear.

trinity ran back to you, still on the ground. “mel.. are you okay? god how could you let them treat you like that?!”

“im fine trinity.. seriously”

“fine?! they literally just threw you onto the ground!!”

you felt your chest start to collapsed as your voice started to come out in whimpers. “i-it’s not okay” you cried into the palm of your hands.

“i really miss changbin” you said in the midst of your sobs

trinity held you in her arms, “i know baby.. i promise you he’ll come back”

you quickly jumped out of her lap, staring at her dead in the eye “you can’t tell changbin what just happened okay?!”

“bu-“

“NOPE. under any circumstances. promise me you won’t tell changbin about this”

trinity rolled her eyes, wrapping her pinky around yours. “i pinky promise, now lets go grab some lunch”

trinity helped you up and into the apartment before night could fall, and by 11 pm you’d received a call from changbin.

“hey baby.. what’s up??” you said onto the screen, “babe....” you whispered

“princess” you heard him moan, “i need you... please”. you watched as he leaned his camera down to his throbbing cock, his hands pumping his member as he moaned your pet names on repeat.

“changbin... god you’re so desperate” you giggled as you slipped your pajamas off as quietly as you could under the comforter.

your legs played with each other as you toyed with your clit, watching the camera to see if changbin had a good view of your little game you played by yourself. rule one, was to never finger yourself alone, always have the other person watching.

changbin moaned as your finger slipped past your folds and moved around. “god princess like it’s my own fingers”

your eyes shut in bliss and you started to fuck your fingers at a quick pace, and you felt changbins hands moving faster on his side as well. you slowed down the pace however, and decided to take a break. you grabbed the phone before you saw changbin’s eyes glow.

“love.. is that a bruise on your hip? what happened?!” he asked in a worried tone. you felt your heart pace increase as you remembered what happened. wooyoung and mingi throwing you onto the ground.

“was it something bad?!” changbin asked in a louder tone.

unsure of what to do, you hung up the phone call. you grabbed the comforter to take place of changbins body during aftercare, treating you with all respect and love. but there was also worry. worry that changbin would get down to the bottom of it. worry that he’d do something about it. worry that you’d get more hurt if he tried to get involved

god.. how do i explain to him? you wondered

#for his princess #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin #changbin #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #stray kids smut #bye i love changbin #stray kids changbin #skz suggestive #stray kids suggestive #skz smut #stray kids dom #stray kids sub #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours

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imma-fucking-nerd · 4 years

Text

Satisfied

(Hey guys! This is my first fic at least the first one im actually posting. This is based off of the song Satisfied from the musical Hamilton. I hope y'all enjoy! Constructive criticism is VERY welcomed!)

Beetlejuice x reader (kinda)

It was October 31st. Halloween. I watched as my younger sister, Violet, applied her glittery makeup. She was dressed up as a fairy this year. The Deetzes/Maitlands, our neighbors, were throwing a massive Halloween party, and of course Violet wanted to go. She was the tutor for the Deetz kid, Lydia. I had met her a few times, and she too could see the dead. She was a good kid.

"Why do I have to come to this thing again?" I asked as I leaned against the doorframe.

"You don't have a choice, remember?" she replied matter-of-factly.

"Of course, how could I forget," I sigh in response.

She was right, I didn't have much of a choice. I was bound to her. You see, I'm dead. Have been for a little over three years now. It was a freak car accident and Violet survived. I wasn't so fortunate. Although she survived she was badly injured, almost lost her life too. That must have been the reason why she could see me, and others like me. Ever since my death I followed my sister wherever she went. She's my best friend. After a while I had latched onto her and wasn't able to leave her side. Not that I would anyways.

"Are you ready yet?" I asked, impatiently tapping my foot.

"What's your hurry? Are you actually eager to party?" She glanced at me through the mirror with a hopeful grin.

"I just want to get this over with," I responded with a shrug.

"C'mon, can you at least pretend you'll have fun?" she flashed her puppy eyes at me and batted her eyelashes. She knew I couldn't resist her puppy eyes.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop complaining. Thankfully no one there can bother me there anyways," I said rolling my eyes at her.

"Yay!" She jumped up, her fake wings bouncing as she does. She would have given me a hug if she wouldn't just fall through me.

"Are you finally ready?" I asked, moving away from the doorframe.

She added some extra lip gloss before nodding. "Yep! Let's go!"

Upon arriving at the Deetz/Maitland household Violet was greeted by Delia. While they were chatting I took the opportunity to look around. The decorations were very impressive, the cobwebs and the skulls that adorned the walls looked very convincing. The chandelier above had victorian style candles which where sat upon skulls. The walls looked like they were crawling with bugs. Wait, those are bugs. Okay then. While I was looking at the place I ran into Lydia, not literally of course.

"Hey Y/N, nice costume," She said sarcastically, eyeing my outfit which very obviously not a costume.

"I don't need a costume, I'm dead. And what are you supposed to be? Yourself?" I asked playfully.

"A plague doctor, actually," she said, holding up her plague doctor beak mask. It looked genuine. Other than the mask her outfit was basically her normal style.

"Anyways, I gotta go talk to your sister. I have a math test coming up I need help on. Later." And with that she walked by me and headed for my sister.

There wasn't really much for me to do at a party where no one could see me. I just stood in the corner and observed. My eyes scanned across the room until my they made contact with a pair of pale green ones. Little did I know, I wasn't the only one who spotted the odd figure. As soon as our eyes met the stranger perked up and made his way over to where I was. He wore a filthy black and white striped suit with a forest green tie. His hair was wild, electric green and stood out in all directions. At first glance I would've just assumed he was in costume, but his skin was far too pale to be makeup. Plus the moss growing on his skin was a dead badum tss giveaway. He was like me. Another ghost. Despite how dead he looked, he was actually kind of good looking. Did that make me weird? Whatever, I'm dead I don't really have many options. As he approached he leaned on the wall next to me.

"Heya babes, haven't seen you around here before. Got a name?" His voice was gravelly and flirtatious as he eyed me up and down. I was suddenly thankful for being dead, and therefore unable to blush.

"I uh-" I tried to speak but no words came out. He smirked and chuckled, his fangs slightly showing as he did.

"Wow, speechless? I can't really blame you, I tend to have that effect on people. How bout I go first." He handed me a card with the word Beetlejuice written on it three times. I took it and shifted my gaze onto the card then back to him.

"Your name is Beetlejuice?" I asked, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Well, it's actually my middle name. ANYWAYS, you can call me Bj, or Beej, or your new boyfriend. Whatever works for you," He replied with a sly grin.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the smile from growing on my face. I'm not going to lie, he was oddly charming.

"So, are you going to tell me your name? Or should I just call you gorgeous?" His grin widened, I could tell he was proud of that one.

"My name's Y/N Smith. Are you from here or-" I was suddenly cut off him gasping dramatically.

"CANDY!!!" His eyes were wide and I could have sworn there were sparkles in them.

He then sprinted towards the newly set bowl of candy that Delia came out with. He didn't even say a goodbye or anything. I watched him as he disappeared into the crowd. I'm not going to lie, he was pretty cute, smooth too. I'm definitely going to have to keep an eye out for him later. He was the first interesting ghost I had met since I died. No offense to the Maitlands, they were sweet but a little boring.

I stayed in my spot in the corner as the party went on. Not too long after meeting Beetlejuice, Violet had come up to me. Her cheeks were dusted with a light blush as she rushed to my side.

"Y/N! Y/N!" she was more hyper than usual and her eyes were wide in excitement, she was even bouncing.

"What's up Vi?" I asked with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow.

Violet giggled like a school girl and leaned in, whispering in my ear.

"You see that guy over there? I call dibs!" she was pointing to Beetlejuice as she spoke.

I kept my smile but on the inside, my cold unbeating heart was breaking. I knew that if I told her that I saw him first, she would back away no doubt. But the look in her eyes told me she was just as smitten as I was. I internally sighed and left her side, possibly making the worst decision of my life- uh death? I made my way across the room to where Beej was, passing through a couple of people on the way. Violet went to object but stopped herself and watched as I made my way over to the man of the hour. Once he spotted me he smirked.

"Hey there gorgeous, back for more?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Actually, I'm about to change your...death." I grabbed him by the arm and guided him to where I left Violet.

As Violet spotted us getting closer she quickly touched up her hair and quickly applied more lip gloss. Once we arrived at Violet, Beetlejuice instantly looked her up and down. I let go of his arm and stood by Violet.

"This is Violet Smith, my sister. Violet, this is Beetlejuice." I pushed her towards him slightly.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, m'lady." He took her hand and laid a wet kiss to the top of her hand. Violet's face turned a deep crimson and she tried to stifle a giggle.

"Well, I'll take that as my cue to leave. Have fun you two." My smile faltered slightly as I turn to leave, but Violet stopped me. She mouths 'Thank you' and I nodded in response with two thumbs up.

I returned to my corner of the room and remained there watching the living as they had their fun. Every now and then I would look over to see Violet and Beej laughing, or flirting. It hurt to, a lot. But then I sew how happy she was and realize that her happiness was more important than mine. The only regret that I really had was that I met him first. It was about an hour or two later when Violet and I had left the party. For the rest of the night, she went on and on about Beetlejuice. I chimed in here and there but I mostly listened. She really seemed to be head over heels.

The weeks that followed the party consisted of many, many, many visits to the Deetz/Maitland household. Most of the time I would leave the two to their own devices, spending most of my time with the Maitlands. As time went on, it was easier to see them together. But there were always times where he would make a comment, or look at me and all those feelings would come crashing back. It was hard, but my sister was more important than anything to me, in life and death. It was almost a year later when Beetlejuice came to me, asking for my blessing to marry Violet. He told me about how he could be alive again, and have a family with her. That was the moment when all my doubts that I made the wrong decision were erased. Of course, when he proposed Violet couldn't have been more ecstatic. From then on I watched over them and their growing family, forever bound to watch the future that I gave up unravel.

#beetlejuice x reader #Beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice x oc #my writing #beetlejuice fanfiction

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pitayatea · 5 years

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Talk is Jericho: The Emancipation of Jon Moxley

(i highly recommend listening to the episode if you have time, its a great listen and it goes a lot into jons thought process behind his leaving and the timeline from august until he left. if you dont have time or just want a rundown before you listen to see if youd be interested, i complied a list of points in the episode,,, i guess? idk.)

(none of these are in order im horrible at listing things but all of this was discussed at some point):

- mox started the podcast saying he harbors no ill will for wwe, how grateful he is for the time he spent there, how they helped him grow as a person, etc. he also talks fondly of the make a wish program and the fans and everything.

- there's a good bit of him talking about renee and describing her as his best friend, his soulmate, and how even if they had nothing it was fine bc they had each other. prime otp shit we stan. im sorry i love their relationship.

- jon describes a time where he was approached about a promo describing him doing stupid stuff that an idiot would do (riding a unicycle backwards, sharing pizza with a homeless dude, etc), and asking that it be changed because he doesnt want his character to be seen as an idiot. the line was taken out and readded by vince. when he confronted vince, vince didnt see the issue and described the segment as good shit and thought it described the dean character perfectly, which jon took as being described as an idiot.

- jon hated his heel turn, and defined it as being heavily micromanaged and told numerous stories of fighting with scripts and writers and vince because they wanted to do joke shit that he didnt want to do. he hated the germaphobe angle, he despised the vaccine promo, and it was all stuff pushed by vince.

- he also talks about other promos he hated before his heel turn, and a lot of it started as early as the 2014 feud with seth (the hotdog cart, seth mannequin, etc.)

- i actually remember an older tij episode where he goes into detail about how it was vince who pushed the mannequin thing, and how he once walked into vinces office and found vince sitting in his chair, facing the mannequin, with weapons laid out, verbally describing what he wanted to do to the mannequin... do with that what you will.

- (aka vince is senile which,,, we been knew)

- both of the stories he told are extremely interesting: one describes the time he knew for sure he was gone and started counting the days, and the other describes the time he almost walked out.

- there was numerous lines during his heel turn that he refused to use and demanded to be changed.

- one of which was a joke about a pooper-scooper that got changed to the gas mask line. he describes literally having to go behind vinces back and rushing with writers to get a copy of the script without the joke onto vinces desk before the one with the joke got there because vince wouldve forced him to do it.

- he describes all the promos he did that night as confusing and not telling stories, and remarked that "if we didnt need to run around and try to not look like idiots, we could focus on telling stories", which flustered a writer he was with at the time.

- the writers and jon got a note from vince which stated "dean needs to understand why he needs to insult the audience. dean needs to read his promos verbatim and not try to rewrite them." jon remembers feeling like he got punched in the gut and lashed out in frustration at a writer (in retrospect, he admitted it wasnt the writer's fault and he was just emotional).

- "why do i work here? im a professional wrestler, who can tell stories and come up with promos and i believe i have the ability to talk people into buildings, i learned those skills years ago, and i wanted bring them to the wwe, and you just want me to say your stupid lines. if you want someone to stay your stupid lines, hire an actor because theyll probably do a better job of it than me. im not interested in doing it."

- he spoke frankly about the fact that wwe is a billion dollar company, run by an alleged genius, filled with adults, and they were talking about pooper-scoopers, and how ridiculous it sounds.

- after the pooper-scooper joke was removed, vince took the gas mask comment literally and tried to make jon go out with a surgical match. eventually, it was talked down to the hankerchief that made it into the final cut of the promo.

- vince once mentioned how jon had so much creative license, to which jon remarks: "what creative license? what creative license do I have? i do exactly what you tell me and its terrible crap. thats not creative license."

- he booked it immediately after the show, got into the hotel, and immediately thought (after thinking that he needed a drink) that the entire segment was a waste of time because they got nothing done, and he didnt get why everyone was celebrating afterwards. he remarked that after doing six promos in one night, he couldnt say what the story was, who the characters were, and that the angle was dead, if it wasnt already.

- jericho agreed that the creative process of going through vince is awful and that it burns you out and that, at the end of the night, the match was the easy part.

- jon was never scared of getting fired for being outspoken, because he still did the work. if he couldnt convince vince that it wasnt a good idea, hed go out and try hard to make it good.

- jon woke up to a text from a writer describing the vaccine segment, and he responded that he "fucking hated it" and the writer texted back "yeah, i know".

- by the time he showed up to the building, word had gotten out that he wasnt happy with the vaccine promo. vince knew jon wasnt happy and called him to his office to reassure him that the bit wasnt comedic, and that its good stuff and its well written and would get him so much heat. he explains all of this while laughing, immediately proving that it is comedic, and said there was no props involved, to which jon replied "then whats with the actor we hired to play the doctor or the giant syringe? are those not props?"

- jon was ***EXTREMELY*** uncomfortable making comments about romans leukemia, and didnt even want to say the lines that got on tv, and sounded audibly pissed off when talking about it. when he confronted vince, vince said that roman needs to be in the story, that dean turned on both roman and seth, and that roman is a key part of the story.

- both jericho and jon then talk briefly about the 'vince jedi mind trick', where he makes things seem better than they actually are, and jon fell victim to it in that promo despite considering himself to be immune. he immediately regretted the lines as soon as he said them.

- there was a line in a promo talking about romans cancer that jon refused outright to say, and wouldnt even say it on the episode. all he said is that the wwe wouldve lost sponsors (esp the susan g. komen sponsorship) and someone (likely him) wouldve gotten fired. vince tried to convince him to say the lines but he absolutely refused and it was a matter of "ok i guess youre not comfy bc its roman" and not "its extremely offensive" with vince agreeing to not force the promo. jon then said it wouldnt have mattered to vince anyways bc he wouldnt have been blamed for it, and it wouldve been jon who took all of the heat. he then makes a comment in case whoever was responsible for the promo was listening:

- jons wanted to leave wwe since july 2018, and almost walked out after an episode of raw during his heel turn due to creative frustrations.

- jon wanted to return from injury as a completely new heel character. he brought this up to vince twice - once in february, when they thought hed be cleared for wrestlemania 34, and once in july, before his actual return.

- in february, vince had stated that they could do what jon wanted to do. the story changed by july due to them advertising the shield for the aus super showdown and not wanting to take them off the billing.

- they then wanted him to return as seths buddy in his corner for summerslam. jon wanted to return at summerslam as a surprise, and vince had an original plan for him to show up at the go home show for summerslam and just,,, be there, but agreed to go with jons plan.

- the week of summerslam, a writer contacted jon while he was training with joey mercury and cody hawk in cincinnati that he was, in fact, showing up at the go home show for vinces original plan. essentially, vince lied to him to sedate him because jon says he was extremely outspoken about everything. he managed to talk vince and the writers into putting a little bit of action into the go home show.

- jon hated the line that seth said to announce his return ("since you have a scottish psycopath, i ought to have a lunatic in mine"), which was entirely a line planted by the creative team and wasnt the fault of jon or seth. he felt like it muddled the crowd reaction and the pop bc everyone was reacting in different ways and he thought they shouldve just played the music because "how can you screw that up?"

- hes been creatively frustrated since 2016 on smackdown.

- by the time he left the company, he hated the character of dean ambrose and couldnt look at himself in the mirror.

- they tried burying dean with the nia storyline and squash matches, but fans loved him so much that vince saw dollar signs and pushed for the shield reunion tour. if it wasnt for fans being behind him, jon wouldve been mercilessly buried.

- aew was not his main reason for leaving. originally, he wanted to go back to czw or the indies. he wouldve left the company no matter what - even if no other promotions existed, he wouldve left and created his own promotion.

- jon described feeling severe symptoms of depression during his last few months, to the point where he couldnt motivate himself to get out of bed or go to the gym or do anything. he even looked up symptoms on webMD to confirm what he was feeling - jericho also confirmed it the second jon started talking about it.

- he outright stated that vince and the creative process and the shit vince had built around the wwe since 2002 is killing the company.

- he does not want to compete with wwe, he just wants to try and push them to improve the product and try and get vince to step back slightly and not micromanage so heavily.

- jon only got paid 500 bucks for the shields final chapter special, which is the same price that extras get on main shows and the same price that unused roster members get for just showing up and sitting in catering. jericho then brought up that during a house show street fight between him and ambrose, they both only got paid 750. 500 and 750 are bare minimum prices for just showing up - so they barely got paid for a dangerous gimmick match on a house show.

- jon and cody have been friends since before cody left wwe, and used to sit backstage and watch old wcw matches while getting ready for matches.

- he considers codys experience to be similar to his, and that they both experienced the same frustrations at different times.

- jon and jericho both agree that tony khan (CEO of aew) is the exact opposite of vince, and is a bigger wrestling fan than vince is. jericho then brings up that he doesnt see how vince can be a fan any longer because hes been doing it so long without a break. jon agreed and stated that vince is never gonna retire and is def gonna die in the chair, and how he just needs to step back a little bit.

- jericho brought up how jon broke the internet and jon practically jumped at the chance to tell the story.

- "king of social media, mic drop bitches." that is the line of the century im sorry.

- the inspo for the original mox teaser released on may first was inspired by the first venom teaser trailer.

- double or nothing was already planned to be moxs first appearance when the teaser dropped, and he had to keep it on the dl to make sure no dirtsheets reported it and no one advertised him to be there. he admitted he isnt tech-savvy and everyone who hes friends with who is belong to wwe, and the dude who helped him film the teaser was sick nick mondo.

- the trailer took two days to film and cost eight grand, but jon admits he wanted it to be quality and didnt care.

- while filming the trailer, vince texted him to try and extend his contract for the europe tour bc shield money. his response was that he was committed to a film project, which vince took as him filming a movie and not him filming the trailer.

- jon didnt tweet the trailer, he had a social media expert time it to where it released at exactly midnight through some techno shit with twitter.

- roman and seth knew how unhappy jon was in wwe and they were understandably sad to see him go but they wanted him to be happy.

- he talks about how he told seth he was leaving: seth had responded that he was super bummed out, and jon told him that he "is a wild animal, babe" and has been contained for too long. seth immediately agreed, saying it was the perfect analogy.

- the way he describes it kinda describes seth being more broken about jon leaving than roman, which also correlates with seths responses to questions about him leaving. do with that what you will, shippers.

- from now on, nothing is driven by money for him. everything is driven by trying to be the best he can be. he wants that for everyone: he wants his friends to be the best they can be, he wants his wife to be the best she can be, he wants the fans to be happy and everything, but his happiness is the most important thing.

- he feels more passionate about wrestling now, and describes it as his first love and his only love besides renee. the way he describes it reminds me of cm punk losing his passion due to wwe, and i feel like he wouldve ended up exactly like punk if he stayed any longer.

- his favorite part of the business is promos, and the scripted promos made him loathe it. aew gave him his passion for promos and wrestling back.

- he compares himself to the dentist elf from rudolph. his closing line is "if you're an elf and you wanna be a dentist, be a dentist." jericho edits in an audio clip from rudolph at the end and its great.

- jon is looking forward to working with legitimately everyone in aew and thinks of it as helping draw eyes to the product and to other lesser known talent, similar to jericho.

- he doesnt want a war, no matter how much he jokes about it. he just wants to show vince that the way he runs his show isnt the only way and it definitely isnt the right way.

- jon, speaking directly to vince: "your creative process sucks. fix it."

(i listened to the podcast in full three times, and i repeatedly replayed segments to confirm everything. if i missed something, lmk.)

#wwe #aew #all elite wrestling #jon moxley #dean ambrose #jonathan good #chris jericho #talk is jericho #mentions of #vince mcmahon #renee young #roman reigns #seth rollins #cody rhodes

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