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suna-reversed · 3 years

Note

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie, or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness]

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same.

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin.

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher,

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself,

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him”

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about.

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out.

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string.

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes.

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened.

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face.

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something,

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt.

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance.

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing?

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis.

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting.

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?”

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

- “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”-

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far.

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjkxreader #jujutsukaisenxreader #yujiitadori #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #itadori x reader #sukuna #sukuna headcanons #jjk headcanons #sukuna smut #gojo saturo x reader #jujutsu Kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #sukunafluff

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Rock N Roll People In A Disco World

Part 5- Nobody Dance On A Sad Disco

Intro: Paul doesn’t react well when your logical and practical side suggests you postpone your wedding…

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 7k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 4

"I just don't understand why you think this is such a big frickin' deal, Paul." You said with exasperation. This argument had been carrying on for a good twenty minutes and so far, the only thing you'd accomplished was going in circles like a NASCAR driver.

“You don’t understand?” He scoffed, hands on his hips, “seriously? You don’t see why I’m slightly pissed off you wanna postpone our wedding?” "You can't continue to tell me that not pushing everything back a few months makes the most sense right now. In a month’s time we were supposed to be going away for our stags, and since..... since... you.... This is just what's better for..."

"Y/N, you do still want to get married don't you?" He interrupted. The strain in his voice was evident from both use and emotion.

"What kind of fucking question is that?" Now you were raging. The absolute audacity of him to even ask that. “Well it's non-rhetorical.” “Of course I still want to get married, you fucking moron!” You growled. "Then explain to me wh.." his voice cracked out and he breathed harshly through his nose. “That!” You gestured to him. “That is why!” "So it hurts a little, it's fine. For fucks sakes, I'm fine," his voice was entirely strained from arguing, his chords stretch to their limit. “No, you’re not.” You shook your head before you took a deep breath and pinched your nose. “Paul, I want our wedding to be a day we both look back on in years, decades even, to come and still love every minute of it...” "And we will!" “Right, okay, so your voice fails during our vows or your speech and you’re gonna be okay with that, huh?” You put your hands to your hips and waited for his reply. "No. I mean, I don't know." "My point exactly." You flung a hand up in his direction. “But it’s another eight weeks off, plenty of time, I might be fine.” He shrugged you off like he could make it happen. You knew it wasn't possible. It had only been a week since he'd said your sweet nickname as clear as day and while more and more words were stronger and phrases longer and more clear, you knew him better than that and you knew he wasn't ready no matter how much he wanted to pissingly argue with you that the two of you could move forward as if his shooting were nothing.

"Might. Key word." You sighed, clearly frustrated to the point of tears as they welled and stung your eyes. “Okay, fine.” His hands flew out to his side. “Have it your way, call the venue and cancel.” Gritting your teeth, you replied, “I don’t want to fucking cancel, Paul, I just want to move it!” “You know how long in advance we had to book that place, Y/N, it could be another year before they have an opening again.” “Then we wait another year!” You sighed dramatically, “in the grand scheme of things what does it matter? Today, tomorrow, twelve months, it all amounts to the same thing.” "It matters to me, Y/N." “Okay... fine. Let’s keep the date.” She shrugs. “Let’s just go for it and when you can’t speak and start to get frustrated we’ll write our vows on a pad of paper. Or, better still how about we learn sign language?” “You’re a sarcastic bitch.” “Yeah? And you’re a stubborn asshole.”

There was a long, angry pause between the two of you, harsh jabs and insults now floating painfully in the air. The two of you glared at one another. Both of you furrowing your brows and chewing on the insides of your mouths. Then, you sighed, again with a harsh tone. "God damned it, I hate this. I hate that we’re even having to have this conversation but we are. You were shot! You were moments from death and-“ "And now it's my fault?" He shrieked at a higher pitch than his voice typically was. “Oh for the love of- I didn’t say that!” You balled your hands into fists, your body visibly shaking. “So what are you saying?” “I’m saying that given everything that’s happened, pushing the second biggest day of my life back is the least of my fucking concerns, Paul.” Now you were tearfully arguing, your eyes red as was the tip of your nose. You blinked hard to attempt to show your strength, not wanting to back down. “Second biggest?” “Yes, the second. Because when you...I mean the...” you swallowed back the sob that threatened to scream from you, so you choked in it. “The first was when they told me you were going to live.”

At your words, Paul blinked a little, his mouth opening before it snapped shut again and you shook your head, continuing to talk. “I know you’re hurting and struggling with all of this and it isn’t what you want but it hasn’t been easy for me, either.” You sniffed, the tears now falling from your eyes. “I might not have been the one that took a bullet to the neck but I had to sit there and watch you, barely able to live but fight so hard to stay and all I could think about was the fact I might have to live without you and for that reason alone I’d have changed places with you in a fucking heartbeat.” Your face scrunched up with heavy emotion that you'd held onto for weeks.

“Y/N....” he tried to take a step toward you, but the damage was done for the night. You were done. “Seeing you there, in that bed, wondering if you were gonna make it or not, it was the worse time of my life. So, yeah, frankly I don’t care when we say I do, but it can't happen the way we want it to right now. You’re alive. That’s enough for me. And right now, well it should be for you too.”

You turned on your heel and quickly left the living room. You slammed the bedroom door shut and leaned your back against it whilst you allowed your exterior to fully collapse. You buried your face in your hands as you sobbed. This wasn't what you wanted, you'd expected a better reaction from him as you'd hoped he'd have seen things the same way as you, but you were wrong.

Now, all that was left was to go to bed. You had no fight left, no drive and right now, you didn't want to make up.

Eventually, you crawled into bed and moved no further. Sleep weighing on you heavily.

****

When he'd watched her go, Paul was floored. The things she'd said to him had gone unspoken since he'd been home from the hospital. He knew it had been hard on her, the both of them, what he'd gone through but he'd never imagined how she'd have felt given she was always such a strong woman and that was one of the things he adored most about her.

In frustration, he rubbed his hands over his face and decided he needed a walk. He walked around the neighborhood and back, taking in the cool air, realizing the fall weather was upon them. Shit, fall, the holidays were creeping up on them and he'd hadn't even given it a thought.

It didn't matter, what mattered was the incessant need to push their wedding back another year, was his best guess, and that killed him. It wrecked him and he found himself getting angry all over again. He wanted to marry her now, drag her down to the Justice of the Peace and take her as his bride the minute the courthouse opened. So now, why, all of a sudden did she not want to do even so much as that. Was it cold feet? Was it him? What had happened to him? Was she ashamed of him being unable to speak? She said it was nothing of the sort but it didn't stop the thoughts from weighing on him.

When he got back to their apartment, he found Y/N fast asleep in their bed, her back to his side of the bed. He hated that they were going to bed like this. He didn't believe in it, and if he was honest with himself, this was the first time this had ever happened in the span of their relationship. He was a firm believer in his parents golden rule, never go to bed angry and always kiss each other goodnight. Tonight he didn't get to do either.

With a sigh, he pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it in the direction of the hamper in the corner of the room but it didn’t quite make it. Instead, it dropped about a foot or so away, ironically right on the spot where he’d dropped to one knee that November evening almost three years ago…

She'd stood in the bathroom across the hall getting ready for their dinner date, listening to him chatter on in their bedroom about whatever it was as he dressed for the night. It was mid-week and they'd both managed to be off in time for a dinner date. Paul had wanted to make it fancy, something special.

"Do you know what today is?" He asked as he tied his tie in the mirror that stood in the corner of their room.

"Er, Wednesday," she replied, loud enough for her voice to carry.

"Of course, but try again," there was a hint of humor to his voice, sarcasm at best.

"Date night," she giggled.

"Nope." He breathed out a nervous, shaky breath. A full two strides and he stood in front of their chest of drawers, pulling open his sock drawer, reaching for the small box in the back.

"I give up."

He chuckled anxiously and closed the drawer. "Our anniversary." He took a knee, opening up the small box and waited.

"What? No, that's not for a few more months," she said with a smile as she walked across the hall and into the doorway of their room. Her hands were at her ear, adjusting her earring.

She gasped seeing him on one knee, his eyes smiling but his hands shaking as he held out the ring box. The lid open to show her what he was asking.

"Also true, but no. At exactly this minute, twenty-one months ago," he checked his watch, "I responded to a call for backup and my life changed forever. I met this woman who I just couldn't let go and that same woman took her time in giving me a chance. But I knew from the moment she kissed me that nothing would ever be the same. I fell in love that night, and I knew I wanted to make her mine, to keep on loving her forever. That is, if you'll have me forever?"

He watched as her eyes began to pool with tears as her own shaky hands covered her mouth as he spoke, a nervous silence crossing the room as she seemingly processed everything he'd said.

Tearfully, she replied, "yes, absolutely, yes!"

Tears welled up in his beautiful blue eyes as he stood, and pulled the ring from its box, slipping it on with jittery fingers over the knuckles of her ring finger before he crashed his lips into hers for a deep, happy kiss. "I love you so much, Sugar."

With their foreheads pressed sweetly together, they both cried a little.

"Tell me about it, Stud." She smiled.

They were late to dinner that night, both of them showing up glowing. But his surprises hadn't ended there, no. He'd had both their parents waiting on them for their eight o'clock dinner reservations to celebrate their new good fortune. It was a night he'd never forget, not ever.

Paul glanced down at the ring on his girl’s finger as she slept. Her left hand just close enough to her face so it wasn't obscured as she still lay with her back to him while her right lay tucked up under her pillow. The five raw cut diamonds were set in white gold, a center stone with two diamonds on each side. The center cut wasn't gargantuan and it didn't need to be. She knew how hard he'd worked to buy her the simple design with the small stones it held.

He'd wanted to upgrade it the month he'd solved his first case as a detective but she'd denied him, explaining that it didn't matter how big or fancy it was, the first one was special because of all the thought and effort he'd put forth to even consider her as his wife.

With a sigh he bowed his head and turned to go wash up, before he climbed into bed, Y/N’s back still facing him and he lay awake, looking at the ceiling until finally, an hour or so later, sleep finally took him.

**** The next morning your alarm went off for the first time in weeks. With a groan you hit the button to silence it and cracked open a sore, tear swollen eye, it was still dark outside. You rose, heading on auto-pilot to the bathroom and showered quickly before you wrapped in a robe and headed in to make yourself some breakfast. Just as you were finishing up, Paul walked into the kitchen and you stood up and left the room, not speaking a word to him, you had nothing else to say.

Unfortunately, your bad mood soured what should have been a happy return to work, a sign that your life was getting back to some form of normalcy. Instead, you were off your game, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Yo, Panny, you come to work or just fucking off?" Rodriguez hollered from behind you as an entire clip of used bullets lay at your feet, still hot from firing. You slammed your hand against the button that brought your target to you, all but four shots missing the target. "Fuck off, Ro." "Y/L/N!" Captain Rogers shouted from the doorway. "Outside, now." With a grumble, you rolled your eyes and holstered your weapon, but not before changing out the empty clip for a new one. The tone of his voice was not comforting. "You got your ass handed to you on the mats in hand to hand, you couldn't even shoot a decent hand at sniper poker, and now my ace shot, a skilled and decorated marksman, can't sink a suspect in range." Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you drew a deep breath. “Sorry Cap, must be a little rusty.” He sighed and shook his head as it dropped disappointingly to his chest. "You're not ready, go home Y/N." "Steve...." "I pushed you too far. Go home, chill the fuck out, take the weekend." You groaned, “I don’t wanna go home.” The petulance evident both in your tone and body language as you folded your arms across your chest. “I'm fine. It's just a rough start." "Go the fuck home, Y/N. Or I'll send the Mrs. after you." You couldn't stand his wife and given your relationship with Steve, it was a credible threat. Karen Rogers was as green as Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West. "I'd call you an asshole but you're my sup so...." "Now, Y/N." “Fine.” You shrugged. “I’ll go back home. Wonderful.” "I didn't miss the sarcasm," Steve called out to your back.

You flipped him the bird as you kept walking.

**** Paul slammed the door to his mom and dad’s house, storming into the kitchen. It had been a shitty morning, with Y/N not speaking to him and then that damned fucking speech and physical therapy he had to endure twice a damned week.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Big Jim looked at him, frowning a little. Paul ignored him and headed straight to the fridge, pulling out a soda.

“Paul, honey, what’s got into you?” Dot asked gently and he sighed, turning to face both his parents who were sat at the bar top, the remnants of a brunch on their plates in front of them. “Y/n wants to postpone the wedding.”

“Ah.” His dad leaned back in his chair. “And let me guess, you don’t?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Language.” His mother chastised and Paul rolled his eyes, as he paced slightly across the kitchen.

“And, you clearly discussed this in your usual, calm and rational manner?” His dad arched an eyebrow. Paul paused for a moment to eye his dad, before he resumed his movements.

With a sigh his mom spoke. “Paul, sit down for a second, quit pacing my kitchen floor.”

“I don’t want to sit down.” He shot back, petulantly.

“Paul Christopher Diskant, you sit your grown butt down, now.” His mother’s tone was sharp and with a groan he pulled a seat out from the breakfast bar, opposite his parents, and flopped down.

“Now, out with it, from the beginning.” His mother instructed and Paul let out another growl of frustration.

“I just told you. She wants to postpone the wedding. I don’t. There’s nothing else to tell you.”

“Don’t sass me!”

“I’m not sassing you, you’re just not fucking listening.”

“Hey, cut the shit. Don't talk to your mother like that.” Big Jim pointed at him, his voice stern. “You might be a grown man but I'll still kick your ass into next week, you little shit.”

Paul took a deep breath, his head hanging slightly. “Sorry Mom. It's been a really crappy couple of days.” At that he snorted. “Crappy couple of weeks one way or another.”

“Oh, Paul. I know it's not been easy.” Dot gave him a gentle smile. “But you're here with us and that's really all we care about.”

“I just feel like Y/N is getting cold feet. And that really sucks.”

“Don't be a dick.” Dot scoffed at his admission of feelings. “That girl has stood by you while you knocked on death's door.” “Mom, did you just call me a dick?” Paul looked at her, his brow raised and she nodded.

“Yes.”

“She’s not wrong.” His dad interjected.

“What is this gang up on Paul day?”

“You’re acting like a spoiled child who just had his best toy taken away.” Big Jim looked at him. “Son, she wants to postpone, not cancel!”

“Well it didn't feel that way last night or this morning. She stormed out for her first day back at work all pissed off I wasn't agreeing with her.”

“And I refer back to my previous observation. Maybe you should have attempted to discuss the issue in a calm and rational manner as opposed to shouting and getting all pissy.” Big Jim observed.

"I’m not pissy, I’m just... look, we've waited twice as long as we wanted to because she loved the venue so much, hell, I loved the venue. That place means a lot to us and it's so perfect. Everything has been perfect until now." He sighed, his voice again weak.

"What was her reasoning?" Dot pressed.

"Me." He said sadly, frustration clearly featured on his face.

"Paul, I highly doubt it's just you."

"She doesn't think I'm ready. Healthy enough. Healed enough. There's till eight weeks, Mom. Eight weeks, I can be so much better by then."

Dot reached across the granite for his hand. He took it, and held tight, like a boy needing his mother.

"My sweet, love sick boy," she softly smirked at him and he rolled his eyes .”Y/N is only thinking about you. She knows how frustrated you get when you struggle to talk and how would you feel if that happened during the vows or speeches? Look, Sweetheart, you’ve waited years for this, what’s another couple of months?”

“Mom, it won’t be a couple of months, there’s no way that place won’t be booked up for at least another year. I just... Is it so bad that I want to marry her right now as we planned?" His voice breaking and cracking. Too much talking.

“No, Son, it's not.” Jim cut in. “But listen to yourself, your struggling to talk now after this conversation. Y/N just wants to have the wedding you both have dreamed of, and spent so much time planning. Don't take that from her or yourself. You'll look back and think, I should have waited, when I was at full strength.”

Diskant looked at his father before he sighed and his shoulders sagged a little. “Seems like I’m out voted.”

"Not out voted, just...." Big Jim couldn't come up with a reasonable example.

But Dot interrupted, "We just think you need to think about this a little more and be open to what's going on."

"Open to what? The fact I’m now not gonna get married for another year coz some asshole shot me in the neck?"

"Paul..."

He shrugged, "Whatever. Guess, I have some rearranging to do."

Automatically, he looked down at his phone and saw that Tom Ludlow was calling. If there were any better time to get off this hamster wheel of an argument it were now. "I gotta take this."

He stepped outside and took his call. An hour later, he was meeting Ludlow at their apartment, fresh bottles of beer in the fridge and two on the coffee table between them.

Ludlow filled him in on exactly what happened after he'd left the scene and Paul behind. He talked about how Biggs was using Ludlow to get to Wander, how Tom had killed his entire unit out of self-defence and in turn discovered all the corrupt shit Captain Wander had on Tom, the unit, multiple officers, judges, councilmen and other local politicians and prominent community leaders. He told Diskant about the stolen money, hidden in the walls of Wander's home and he explained how important Biggs seemed to think Tom was for IA and the department.

It didn't surprise Diskant in the slightest that Ludlow's department was dirty. In fact, he'd half expected it and the realization hit moments before he was shot. The rest of Tom's story however was just insane, insane enough that he joked a movie could be made about it.

That said, Paul trusted Ludlow from the start. And he’d clearly been right about the guy, even if helping him had resulted in him being moments from death. Painful memories aside, it was nice to see him too. They’d been through a lot, but Paul wasn’t dumb enough to figure this was a purely social call. He knew Ludlow felt guilty about what had gone down and that was partly the reason for his visit. But it was misplaced guilt, one Disco was happy to absolve him of.

"Listen, Paul, with what happened, I..."

"Hey, it's okay. Shit happens. I'm alive. I knew what I was getting into, the risks involved. You gave me an out and I didn't take it." His voice rasped a little.

"Felt like I took a kid to a gun fight." Tom sighed, tossed back some of his beer and shook his head with a slight shrug. "But you're one helluva kid. A fucking fighter. You're a good cop, even better detective and I'm sorry I pushed you so far."

“No hard feelings, man.” Disco took a slug of his beer and shook his head as Ludlow made to speak. “I mean it. I knew what I was signing up for the second the call came in. Our jobs are shady as fuck and twice as dangerous.”

“You can say that again.” Ludlow sighed. “Still, what happened was rough, I’m glad you’re through it.”

Disco gave him a smile as they clinked bottles and Ludlow’s eyes scanned the small living room, stopping on the photo on the small shelf above the television. Paul glanced at it, looking at his and Y/N’s smiling faces as they stood in his parent’s back yard, both dressed in casual jeans and t-shirts, taken a few months before he’d been shot. A time when everything had been simpler and his life on track.

“How's the Missus?” Ludlow asked and Paul took a deep breath.

"She's, uh, she's good,” he answered, deciding not to burden Ludlow with details of their argument, “first day back today, getting her ass kicked I'm sure. Rogers told her it was training day."

"That's rough. Rogers is a hard ass.” Ludlow mused before his eyes flicked down to the beer bottle in his hand. “She er, she due back any time soon?"

Paul shrugged, “I wouldn’t expect so. Why you ask?”

“Because I don’t intend to be here when she returns.” Ludlow replied. “She wasn’t very happy to see me last time.”

At that, Paul frowned. “Last time?”

“Did no one tell you I came by the hospital?”

“Well, yeah they mentioned it but-“

“Well your girl packs a mean right hook.” Ludlow ran a hand over his jaw, almost as if he was recalling the punch he was talking about.

“Wait, what? She hit you?” Paul leaned forward, deeply concerned and slightly proud.

Tom nodded, "then said that if you died, I was next."

“Dammed, she’s vicious.” Paul couldn’t help the smirk which flicked onto his face at the thought of his girl landing one on the man sat next on the small armchair opposite him.

But the grin soon faded as it sunk in just how downright upset and distraught she must have been to do that. For all his jokes about her being a hard ass, she wasn’t one to throw punches around for no reason, in fact, given her job, she often did everything she could to avoid altercations in any shape, stating she saw enough of it at work without seeing it in her personal life too.

"Yeah, she is and frightening. But she's got good intentions. I don't fault her. I'd have popped me one too." Ludlow shrugged.

Paul took a deep breath as he pondered what Ludlow had said. His girl had that stupid nickname “Panny” for a reason, nothing much phased her. So for her to be rattled enough to sock Ludlow in the face just goes to show exactly how distraught she had been.

None of that was news to Paul, he knew all of this, and it had been pointed out to him again earlier that day by his parents. And then, in a moment of clarity, he realised that he might be being slightly unreasonable. Whilst logically, a compromise would be to perhaps cancel their current venue and forgo the huge day they had planned and book something smaller and less flashy for a few months down the line, Paul understood that she wanted this to be the best day it could possibly be for both of them. They had fallen in love with the Shutters on the Beach from the start, and had booked it with enough time to save for their dream day, even though they could have done something smaller and been married by now.

But that was a decision they had taken together, and hadn’t taken lightly, understanding that it would mean a long wait until they said “I do”, but that wait would be worth it. So, in the grand scheme of things, whilst he might not completely agree, she was right. Another year or however long made fuck all difference, even if he didn’t necessarily want to postpone, he understood.

And damned, now he felt like a right jerk.

*****

You pulled up to the curb to your duplex and frowned as an unfamiliar black car was parked outside, one you couldn’t recall seeing before. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, resting your head back against the seat as you gave yourself a moment, trying to rid yourself of the frustration of the day.

Rogers was right, you weren't ready to come back. Not yet. Or at least not after the argument you’d had. It frustrated you entirely that this one small thing had spiralled so much as to affect your job. Never, since you'd joined the force, not even since you'd been on S.W.A.T., had you been sent home for misconduct of your behavior. That angered and frustrated you more. And right now, that frustration was leveled firmly at Paul.

You knew he was angry and upset, but so were you. You were thinking logically, wanting your wedding day to be as perfect as it could be for you both, but Paul was blinded by emotion. You understood. Of course you did, it wasn’t like you wanted to postpone, hell you wanted nothing more than to become his wife but it wasn’t worth rushing if it meant that when the time came you could both make those declarations to one another without either of you worrying his voice would give out.

And it irritated you that he couldn’t see that.

Growling out loud and slamming your palms against the wheel, you shook your head. That was when you saw him, you saw the one person you unadmittedly blamed for your mood, your position and your current situation.

"What the... That mother fu..." you stopped yourself, downright pissed at seeing Tom Ludlow leaving your residence.

You waited until Ludlow pulled away before exiting your car, slinging your 'go bag' over your shoulder from the back seat. You didn't miss your fiancé tossing what appeared to be bottles into the recycling bin at the side of the duplex.

He saw you and smiled, but you did nothing to acknowledge his gesture, allowing the screen door to slam behind you.

“Babe?” Paul’s voice called after you as he followed you in. “Sugar, look, I’m sorry-“

“What the fuck was he doing here?” You dropped your bag to the floor of the small hallway and wheeled round to face him.

"What?"

“Don’t play dumb with me! Ludlow, why was he here?” Paul sighed, "He called me while I was at my parents, wanted to come by. We talked for a bit, had a couple of beers and clearly you saw him just leave." There was a pause between you. "Which by the way I heard all about how you decked him in the hospital lobby." "The fucker deserved it. He's lucky you pulled through or I would have killed him. It would have been a clean shot too, non-traceable round. I'm not a marksman for nothing." Paul rolled his eyes, “you’re being ridiculous, this-“ he gestured to his scar, “- was not his fault.” "It was and you know it was. This is all because he didn't think you could do your job on your own." “Bullshit Y/N!” Paul shot back. "He gave me an out and I said no. He told me to go home, but I told him I knew what I was doing." You could see him flush with anger and, at his surprising admission, you were shaking in it. "He what?" "You heard me." "You fucking asshole. You stupid, stupid son of a..." you couldn't bring yourself to talk about Dot like that so you carried on, your anger raging as you railed into him. “How dare you throw that at me? You had every fucking chance to come home and let him take the fuck up on his own and you still went. You still stepped right into the fucking madness when, Tom fucking Ludlow of all the people in the entire fucking department, gave you a chance to come back to me?"

“Stop it Y/N! You know as well as I do, you don't take up the badge and go 'you know what, I might die today, imma sit this one out'!”

He had you there, he wasn't wrong. You literally growled at him, your chest rumbling. Paul sighed, and swallowed, looking down at the floor before he raised his head and licked his lips as he glanced over your shoulder for a moment before meeting your eyes.

“Listen, about the wedding-“

You groaned, “I can’t do this now.”

“Just listen to me, will you?”

“Why? So you can tell me again how you don’t want to change our wedding date? Because of your pride and..."

At that something flashed in his eyes and he took a sharp inhale through his nose.

"My pride?” His voice his voice strained harshly, "Okay, how about we discuss why you do want to change the date because you’re embarrassed. You're embarrassed of me."

His comment floored you momentarily and you frowned. “Is that what you really think? That I’m ashamed of you?”

"Feels like it."

"Pull your God damn head outta your ass, Paul."

“The only person round here with anything up their ass is you, a big fucking stick about Tom Ludlow paying me a visit.” He croaked back. “What, you want me to be sat at home, helpless, waiting for you to come back? Does that fit with the narrative of why you wanna call the wedding off? Poor Paul, he can’t manage much at the moment so-“

“Fuck you!” You screamed back. “Fucking fuck you!”

Your chest heaved, your nostrils flared. You. Were. Done. You moved to leave, but as you made towards the door, his arm shot out and his hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere you’re not!” You spat, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

He grabbed you again, this time by the waist and pinned you to the near-by wall. It wasn't painful or abusive, it was just enough roughness to keep your attention.

“Get off me.” You hissed, attempting once more to rid yourself from his grip.

“Fucking calm down!” He instructed, his hands pinned yours to the wall, his chest lifting away from your body. It reminded you of how he'd treat a suspect, enough force to maintain control but not to hurt.

His words were said through clenched teeth, his own hot breath from his nose flicking your hair a touch, he was so close. His blue eyes, full of fire, blazed into yours as the two of you stood still, chests heaving from the exertion of the shouting and anger.

He was the one to break first as he slammed his lips into yours. It stole your breath as he kept you pinned against the wall.

Eventually he pulled back and you glared at him. “Prick.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed again, his voice breaking before his lips crashed back to yours. His hips ground into yours, keeping you pinned to the wall and it didn’t escape your notice that he was hard. The fucker was turned on.

But, in all honesty, no matter how pathetic it was, his display of dominance had you fluttering slightly but you were damned if you we’re going to show him that.

You felt him release your arms as his hands quickly moved to your work cargos. Your utility belt and flies were no match for his swift movements and you felt the release of their hold on you as the material flew open.

His chest and kiss kept you pinned to the wall as he undid the zipper to his denim and you quickly felt the head of his cock slip between your folds. “Seriously?” You whispered, making no attempt to stop him. “You think a fuck is gonna sort this out?”

He rutted up into you, stuffing himself right inside and jolting your body up the textured paint. The burn and stretch took your breath away, you weren’t as prepared as usual but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

"I said shut up." He growled as your arms swooped around his neck, trying to find purchase to grab and your fingers found the collar of his shirt. You gave a tug, no doubt stretching the collar but you didn't care. He thrust upward and used his hips to keep you in place as he leaned back enough to slip his shirt off, his built chest and less defined abs now on display, that necklace bouncing off his chest from the speed of his disrobing.

His eyes still blazed as you caught them in your own gaze. He looked down right feral, his skin flushed with anger. His hands flew to the hem of your navy uniform tee and in a wrench he had that over your head, his lips dropping to your collar bone and he nipped along the line, stinging bites that would no doubt leave their marks.

“Not so fucking mouthy now, are you Sugar?”

Your only reply was the 'fuck' that escaped your lips at a whimper as he spoke. The rasp of his injury mixed with the deep tone lust did to him had you fluttering in all the right places.

You weren't sure how he'd done it but your boots were unlaced and falling to the floor at his feet with a thud. You barely registered the way his fingers slipped under the hem at the leg of your cargos and slipped your socks away. He was rutting into you with such hard measure, his tongue aggressively and passionately dancing with your own. You felt a rawness against your back from the wall. He stopped kissing and fucking you long enough to tear down your pants and panties the rest of the way, leaving you in your sports bra, your nipples rock hard poking into the material. All whilst his body still pressed hard against you.

With a yelp, he lifted you and carried you the few short steps to the couch, dropping you on your ass and turning you to your knees. You caught just a glimpse of how he looked, chest naked and heaving, tattoos glistening with sweat, that look still raging in his eyes. You wagered you looked about the same because he looked how you felt. His cock glistened with your slick as he slipped right behind you, a knee on the cushion of the couch, the other boot planted into the carpet.

Without a word his hands grabbed your hips, unceremoniously repositioning you before he slammed straight back inside, jolting you forward a little as you cried out, your hands curling round the arm of the sofa, elbows locking to prevent you from falling face first into the cushions.

The angle change along your swollen walls filled you with a deep, rough pleasure and you groaned loudly as his hips rotated in a dirty grind as he bottomed out on one of his thrusts.

"Oh my... fuck..." you stuttered and behind you Paul gave a moan of his own.

“That all you got to say?” He panted, his voice cracking slightly, punctuated by his pants.

“Asshole.” You managed to whisper and with that, Paul grabbed that ponytail you sported and held tight, arching you head back towards him.

“Jesus Christ you just can’t stop can you?” His lips crashed to yours in a sloppy, filthy, tongue filled kiss before splaying his chest over your back, his hot breath against your ear as he made the most pleasurable grunts and moans, his hips pounding back and forth in a relentless rhythm.

He was close, you could feel it in the subtle rhythm change of his hips, his hand on your hip squeezing your skin, bruising it no doubt later.

"Do. It." You punctuated.

“Oh, baby girl , you should know by now,” he growled as his right hand moved from your hip, slipping around your belly and down between your legs, “not. before. you.” In no time at all his fingers had teased you to relief, your back arched as you cried out loudly, the heat and surge of your orgasm washing over you, the world spinning as you crashed over the edge.

He growled your name as he came, filling you but not stopping his relentless thrusts as if he couldn't help the automated way his body had taken over, taken you. You felt how warm your insides were at his spend, no doubt absorbing most of it. You fell forward onto the couch, his body lightly crushing you into the cushions.

As the two of you worked at recovering, his lips brushed over your skin in super soft kisses; along your shoulder, the back of your neck.

The only sound in the room were the two of you breathing heavily, a stark contrast to the screaming match you shared for the last two days. Then you felt his weight shift and a sweet kiss to the back of your neck.

"About the wedding...."

You groaned, after everything you just threw at each other and the most ridiculously, satisfying angry sex you had ever had, he wanted to start back up again. "Please don't. I don't want to argue."

He hushed you and your walls squeezed against him. He let out a low chuckle mixed with a moan. "I’m not." He kissed your shoulder. "Before you came in before like a buck shot grizzly bear, I was gonna say you were right."

You stilled and turned your head to look at Him. “I’m sorry, say that again?” You teased

He smiled and nipped at your neck, "don't be a dick."

He pulled out of you and sat down on the sofa. Your body was jello but you couldn't miss the chance to seize an opportunity to slip him back inside you and simply sit on his lap. He gave a grunt as you kissed him, soft at first, then lolled your tongue over his lips. "I'm sorry too."

“I never said I was sorry.” He playfully chuckled and this time you nipped at him, teeth grazing his jaw.

“Don’t be a dick.”

His hands moved to your hips and then up your back, pulling you against his tacky damp chest.

“Disco?”

“Sugar?”

“You don’t really think I’m ashamed of you, do you?”

"It'd crossed my mind."

"Look at me," you sat up and held his jaw in your palms. "Never, in my entire life will I ever be ashamed of you. You are the absolute strongest, bravest person I know."

"Okay."

You kissed those sweet little moles on his right cheek by his nose and just below his bottom lashes. "I love you like no other, Paul Diskant."

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and that gorgeous soft smile spread across his lips. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a kiss where you knew he'd feel and understand what you meant, what you felt. It was covered by a still healing scar, but he felt everything.

“I only want us to have the day we want, the day we deserve.” You whispered, sniffing a little as you blinked back tears.

"I'll call Shutters tomorrow. See what they can do." He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

“Thank you.” You lay your head on back his shoulder, his arms holding you close.

***** Part 6.1

#rock n roll people in a disco world #paul diskant #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #reader insert #paul diskant fan fiction #street kings #chris evans #chris evans characters

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vizowrites · 3 years

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My BlitzStrike Twins: Headcanons and Shenanigans~ [probably with a bit of my M&M kids thrown in just for fun]

So today I got a couple of fantastic asks about Blitz and Striker as parents, and since there seemed to be a pretty positive response to them--and because @helluva-simp is amazing and encouraged me to be brave enough to write this up--I thought I’d go ahead and make a full post of my headcanons for these two little devils. I really do love the hell out of them and hope you guys enjoy hearing about them too!! <3 <3

Twist’s and Ty’s full names are Twister and Typhoon but literally nobody calls them by their full names ever so they like to make the joke of “the ‘-er’ and the ‘-phoon’ are silent”

Ty is actually the older of the two [though not by much] but everyone thinks that Twist is because his name is always called first. It’s always “Twist and Ty” [or just collectively “Twist-Ty”] instead of “Ty and Twist”. Ty honestly doesn’t mind that much as far as following after his brother goes, just don’t make the mistake of trying to label him as the younger of the two. There are a lot of things Ty’s perfectly content to let Twist take the lead in, but having the title of “the older twin” is just going too far.

Twist and Ty are mirror twins, meaning that they’re mostly identical except for a few key things: 1. Twist is left handed and Ty is right handed, 2. they both have heterochromia but Twist’s eyes are Left: Red | Right: Green-Gold whereas Ty’s eyes are Left: Green-Gold | Right: Red, 3. Twist has a birthmark on his right hand and Ty has his birthmark on his left hand--and yes when you put the two marks together, they form a design not unlike the heart shaped one on Blitz’s forehead :)

Both of the twins are incredibly agile, but Twist is faster and Ty is more flexible

Striker affectionately calls Twist “Whirlwind” because of said fastness

Blitz affectionately calls Ty “Noodle” because of said flexibility

.....Though it should be noted that it’s not all fun and games because Twist is CONSTANTLY crashing into things or tripping over his own two feet from going too fast, and Ty is so flexible that he’s able to contort himself into positions that honestly make both of his parents throw up a little in their mouths with the split-second panic of “OH GOD OUR BABY WAS BORN WITHOUT BONES!!” DX DX They’re both usually just fine tho!! :D

As noted in an earlier post--but I want to say it here too--Twist’s first word was “Bang!” and Ty’s first word was “Fuck!” Twist was the first one to talk, though, and it made Striker and Blitz second guess the context of his first word by the time Ty said his. XD

Another thing that was noted in another post but I want to put it here too is that Twist and Ty have incredibly high self esteem and both Striker and Blitz wouldn’t have it any other way

Twist is dyslexic and so gets easily frustrated when he has to read a book, but he love love LOVES the hell out of stories.....and so Ty is almost constantly making up random stories to tell him

This actually also works out well in Ty’s favor because Ty’s attention span is about as short as Blitz’s patience and he has a lot more fun telling stories than he does sitting still long enough to read the ones that other people made up unless it’s a book about something he’s reeeeeeally interested in

It’s also made Ty hella good at bullshitting on the fly, which I think most of the older/adult members of his family wish he was a lot less convincing at

Twist knows how to lie and is a natural at acting, but his flair for the over-dramatics tends to give him a way a lot easier than his twin

They both have what I’m calling a “hierarchy of obedience” within their family which really translates into a range of “eh I can think about maybe listening to this person sometimes” to “oh SHIT I need to listen to this person 5 fucking minutes ago”. For Twist, his hierarchy of obedience is: Millie --> Blitz --> Striker --> Loona --> Moxxie. For Ty, his hierarchy of obedience is: Loona --> Millie --> Blitz --> Striker.....and Moxxie doesn’t even make the list for him because honestly I’m pretty sure Ty just naturally tunes him out most of the time and not even fully on purpose. As he puts it: “You just have one of those voices”. XD

Ty can sleep literally anywhere and on anything. I’m pretty sure there have been mornings where Blitz and Striker have to play the game of 'Where the hell is my kid??' because they THOUGHT that he went to sleep in his bed like their other child did but NOPE they go into their room in the morning to get them out of bed and are just like, “.....Twist where the hell is your brother??” and Twist just gives an innocent shrug and says, “I don’t know--probably on the roof or something.” u3u and goes out into the kitchen to make himself breakfast--and then two seconds later Blitz and Striker hear him calling out “NEVER MIND! HE’S IN THE OVEN!!” and that starts off a whole new kind of panic because they know damn well that Twist’s favorite thing to have for breakfast is cinnamon rolls XD

Twist’s laughter is infectious--this really cute witch-like cackling that just bubbles out of him in the most adorably genuine way when he’s that delighted about someting

Ty does this adorable thing where--when he sticks his tongue out at someone--he flicks it in a very snake-like fashion and even gives the tiniest of hisses in lieu of a raspberry when he does it

Ty also manages to twist himself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions when he sleeps but rest assured, he’s never been more comfy

Twist’s tail never stays still. It is constaintly flicking to and fro, back and forth, swishing and swirling like a cat’s tail, and he loves flicking it in front of people’s faces to get their attention

Twist in general doesn’t really stay still very often but the one time he did was when Ty broke his arm--and then he spent almost every moment of the day and night plastered to his side because he knew it was driving Ty crazy not being as mobile as he usually is while having to wear a cast

The twins really don’t ever go that far apart from each other. If you look and only see the one, you can rest assured that the other one is around somewhere nearby and it’s probably not a good sign for you if you can only see the one.

Ty is much more of a biter when it comes to self-defense and Twist always goes straight to using his claws

Twist is the outwardly more protective twin and is vicious with his words when defending his brother. He will force every last ounce of moisture out of your body from how hard he makes you cry.

Ty, on the other hand, will fuck you up hard physically if you try to hurt his twin--and Lucifer himself would not be able to save you if you actually do hurt his twin

As they get older, and their sexualities and gender develop and grow, Twist would discover that he’s a nonbinary he/they homosexual panromantic and Ty would discover that he’s a genderfluid he/she pansexual homoromantic

The above being said, both Twist and Ty wholeheartedly say “fuck you and your gender norms” from a very young age and well into their teenage and adult years, with Twist enjoying painting his nails and Ty carrying all of his stuff around in a purse--and they both have a preference for wearing high heeled shoes [Ty because he just likes being tall in general and Twist because he likes being specifically taller than his parents because it drives them crazy XD]

Twist and Ty’s best friend is “Missi” [Moxxie and Millie’s eldest daughter, Missile] and she’s honestly an absolute hero for putting up with as many of their shenanigans as she does

Whenever they go out on family outings, Twist is that kid who just NEVER wants to leave--and so Blitz usually, after spending ten minutes of trying to get him in the damn van and Striker even using his Dad Tone (TM) and that not working, will just be like, “Alright kiddo, I tried playing nice. You asked for this.” And he puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles with a, “Loona Sweetie? Fetch.” >3 And Loona gets the BIGGEST grin on her face and Twist gets the biggest “oh shit I’m so fucking screwed” look on his face and Ty--who’s honestly probably very awkwardly coiled up in Striker’s arms because after a long day of family fun he’s tired af and decided that he doesn’t want to use his limbs anymore--just kind of looks over at his twin and says, “I believe in you, but also maybe try to run faster than last time” u3u

I think that they would both love their Auntie Barbie a lot and she would have soooooooo much fun teaching them different circus tricks--especially how to yeet each other back and forth on the trapeze XD

I also think that their Auntie Barbie would really love just how close they are.....and probably inspire her to make up for lost time in her relationship with her own twin too

For some reason I can’t shake the thought of the twins being great at acapella and I have no idea why but I’m also ttly here for it XD

In school, I feel like Twist’s favorite class would be Art [he loves to paint and happily makes all kinds of messes with his “expressing creativity”] and Ty’s favorite class would be P.E./Gym [because he loves testing the limits of his physical body]

Family game nights are always fun in their household because usually what happens is Twist and Ty team up against Blitz and Striker, and while they’re in the middle of duking it out, Loona ends up getting a monopoly on every street and is just like, “Pay up fuckers.” u3u

Moxxie and Millie both love and hate babysitting for the twins because on the one hand, they love them to pieces and love seeing how well they get along with their three kids, but on the other hand.....the twins keep finding Millie’s strap on and putting it on their middle child [Mark]’s head and calling him a “cockicorn” XD

Ty’s favorite food is ramen noodles and Twist spent three weeks [and probably set their kitchen on fire at least twice] learning how to make them with JUST the right flavor profile that he knows his brother likes the best

While I think both of the twins know that they can talk to their dads about anything, I think that they still keep their most personal thoughts reserved only to themselves and each other

Twist’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the flashy ‘sharp and pointy’ kind whereas Ty’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the aggressive ‘point and shoot’ kind. However I honestly kind of think that in terms of what they’d use themselves in the field, Twist’s primary weapon of choice would be a whip [though he would definitely have some throwing knives and handheld revolvers in his back pocket too] and Ty’s primary weapon of choice is honestly poisons. Assume that everything this kid has that he throws at you--be it a knife or a bullet or even a fucking cannonball--is poisoned somehow.

They both definitely play wrestle like Blitz and Barbie did as kids.....and just like Blitz and Barbie, they also get their horns tangled together more than once and need to have someone come rescue them. There’s almost always a photo taken that gets posted to Voxtigram first tho. XD

There are plenty more headcanons where this came from but I feel like this is already waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fucking long so I’m going to go ahead and stop here for tonight!! If you guys are interested in hearing more about these two, please please please feel free to let me know and I’d be happy to write up a Part 2 to this, or just overall write up a quick little oneshot with them in it, or if you want to send me specific questions about them that I can answer, feel free to do so!! Thanks so much again and I hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I did writing them up!! <3 <3

#vizowritesheadcanons #BlitzStrike twins #ocs: Twist and Ty #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss AU where Blitz and Striker are parents #I.M.P. family fun #kid AU

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cotncandyboifics · 3 years

Text

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

45 notes · View notes

literaila · 4 years

Text

how could this ever be different?

spencer x reader

warnings: criminal minds stuff. its not all accurate, i am not a genius. thats it? suprising

summary: spencer goes undercover in Las Vegas to catch an unsub. he might just catch feelings along the way... part one:

Blunt force trauma.

Multiple lacerations.

Young women.

Different dump sites.

The unsub had been killing women all over Las Vegas, with no specific victimology, just a bunch of different women who were in the right place at the wrong time.

There was nothing distinctive about the unsub, nothing that made him stick out to the team.

After a week in Vegas, a dreadful week filled with nothing but more questions and the sun.

They were not getting anywhere.

On the 6th day, after 10 bodies had been found total, and the unsub had stopped killing for two days, Hotch decided they couldn't be of any help, and that the case would be declared “cold” until more evidence came out.

All of them were disappointed, angry that all of those women had died, and they couldn't do anything to avenge them. They all wanted to prevent anyone else from losing their life at the unsubs hands, but without more information, they couldn't do anything.

They all left Nevada with sour expressions and hopeless mindsets.

Four months later, more women had died.

It had slowed down significantly when they had left, but one month after that, the unsub had picked up his pace, 2 women dead in the span of a week. More weeks went by, with no other signs he was still killing, and then suddenly he was killing once a week, then twice, and then during the fourth month, it had picked up so much he was killing an average of five women each day. Sometimes, multiple women a day.

And while this provided more evidence, helped the team dig deeper into his mindset, it still wasn't enough.

They were still sitting around the round table, still thinking.

There wasn't enough.

“Hotch, we aren't getting anywhere, we don't know enough about this guy.”

Derek sighed and sat back in his chair.

“I think we know some-” Prentiss argued, her frown plastered on her face.

“But not enough.” Derek interrupted, his eyes were tired, and he wanted to move on to a case where they could actually save people, not a case where none of them knew what they were doing. He felt like he was holding this case on his shoulders, and until they were through with it, the weight wouldn't go away.

There wasn't enough coffee to cure the exhaustion running around the room.

“Do we move on again?” Hotch asked, not exactly sure what to do, they’d never had a situation quite like this one.

They could keep working, keep searching for answers that weren't there, or they could move on, they could work on something, on someone, where they actually knew the answers. They could go home and start over again tomorrow.

Or they could stay, exhausted, unmotivated, and keep working.

It was clear what they all wanted to do. It was clear that the easiest answer wouldn't be the right one.

“If only we could find some sort of pattern.” Rossi looked through his file again, looked at all the girls' history, read over the things he had already read hundreds of times. There had to be some sort of answer somewhere.

The rest of the team copied him, all of them reading everything over and over, desperate to find something, anything.

“Hotch we’ve been over this hundreds of times.” Derek sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was the most exhausted out of all of them, angry that they couldn't stop this guy from killing more women, angry that they couldn't save the other girl's lives.

“I know, Morgan, but I don't think giving up is the right idea-”

“Wait.”

Everyone looked over to the genius interrupting, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was turned down, but they all recognized the look on his face, they could all see that he was thinking of something.

If anyone had figured out anything, it would be Spencer.

“It looks like it's some sort of schedule…”

The tall man got up to walk to the whiteboard in the front of the room, he frowned as he wrote down different numbers.

The rest of the team watched confused as he scrawled messy numbers, again and again, they were all trying to make sense of it, make sense of anything, but they aren't geniuses, and they didn't understand.

“Reid do you mind explaining-”

Spencer cut Derek up with a finger signaling he needed a minute. It caused a moment of laughter between the team as Derek looked startled.

When Spencer looked back over at the other people in the room, capping the marker he was holding in his head, he smiled as if he was laughing at himself. As if he should’ve realized sooner.

“It's a schedule- I mean, look-” he pointed at the numbers, laughing as he said it out loud for the first time, the rest of the team just stared at him, waiting for a bigger explanation. “He only kills between the hours of 6 AM and 6 PM- I mean look-” he pointed up at one of the girls “Megan Cooley was killed at 7:28 PM, Hannah Zen was killed at 5 in the morning, and all of the other girls correlate with this schedule.”

They all stared at the board, the dots connecting, everything suddenly coming to light. It was so strange that just a small realization could change everything for them.

“Garcia,” Spencer said, suddenly put into action. Penelope looked immediately at him, her eyes alert. “Can you find a list of Employees that work 6-6 hours in Las Vegas? It's probably as a manager, a position that doesn't allow sick days.”

Insistent typing went on as they all stared Garcia down. There was a pinch of hope in the room, just the slightest realization that maybe they could finally start to do something.

“There are… 48 total employees who worked on those days, who haven't taken any sick days,” Garcia said as she continued typing.

“Okay, how about employees that started working overtime a month after the case was opened?”

A second went by, two.

“There are 12 results,” she said, looking back up at Spencer, suddenly excited.

Spencer thought for a moment, wondered what would stick out about their unsub. “How about someone who doesn't work under their degree? Like a manager of a store, or something like that?”

Another moment, every person in the room, waiting with anticipation, waiting for something, an answer, anything.

“There's only one result.”

‘Who?”

“A Y/N Y/L/N. She works as a manager at a book shop, never takes any sick days, and has a 6-6 schedule every day.”

It was silent for a moment. None of them knew what to say.

“Maybe that's what we were missing,” JJ spoke up, “it's out of character for a woman, but I don't doubt that it's possible.”

They all nodded in agreement, not wanting to start over again.

At least this was a place to start.

“Are we just going to arrest her?”

After the discovery they had all decided to take a break, to take an hour for just themselves, to get lunch.

Now it was back to the case.

“We can't arrest her without any probable cause. As of now, we don't know enough about her to get a warrant.”

A sigh ran across the room, filling all of the heads with hopelessness again.

Until Emily spoke up, remembering something they’d done before, an idea popping into her brain.

“What if we sent in an undercover agent?”

She had asked Hotch, but everyone was debating it, thinking of the possibilities, the risks that could come with being that close to a murder, the past experiences.

It could be a very bad idea, something could potentially happen to an agent, more victims could get killed, the unsub could stop killing at all.

But, it was one of the only options they had, besides waiting for more evidence to show up.

“We sent someone in, and they get to know the unsub, they profile her behavior, gage her way of living, look for similarities. And undercover, they could get a lot more information than any of us could get by arresting her.” Emily went on, her mind running over the positives.

Hotch sighed. He knew it wasn't something they often did, the BAU was used to getting through cases, used to arresting people immediately. But this was a special case, and he knew that it would only get worse and worse as long as they waited.

But he wasn't sure.

“We don't know what she's like, what if she suspects something? She could kill an agent.” He said, doubtful, stern.

“So we send in a male agent, she isn't interested in males, she's less likely to kill them.”

“We still don't know if she will even connect with a stranger, we don't know if she can connect with anyone. It won't be helpful if the agent can't get to know her.”

“But, Hotch, we could still learn her schedule, we could learn about where she goes when she's not working.

With each sentence that Emily said, they were all becoming more convinced.

A nod went around the table, and they all looked to Hotch for confirmation.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, exhausted with the day, with the case, and nodded.

Relief went around, all of them glad to finally have a plan.

“So who do we send?” Rossi asked.

There were dozens of agents they could send, plenty of them trained for this exact thing, but they were all looking around the room. They all knew the case best, they knew how to gage human behavior, they knew what they were supposed to look for in the unsub.

It had to be one of them.

“Prentiss and JJ can't go,” Derek said, looking at the two of them who looked relieved at the fact.

‘And Hotch you can't go, you have to take care of Jack.”

Rossi cleared his throat, his team members looked at him. “I’m taking my name out of the ballet. I’m too old for this,” he said, sending a laugh around the room.

Derek sighed and looked at Hotch. “I don't think I’m a good choice. I’m more intimidating, and she would be more comfortable around someone her age.”

They all silently looked to Spencer, who was looking down at his file, reading everything over again.

It was only when Hotch cleared his throat that he looked up.

“Reid? Are you comfortable going?”

Spencer stared at him shocked. “Me?” he asked, his voice cracking.

He wasn't good with people in general, and he’d never been good with girls. If they wanted to make the unsub comfortable, he was the worst option.

“Come on kid,” Derek started, “You’re the closest to her age, you’re the most approachable. You’ll remember the most about her behavior, and you’ll learn her schedule quicker than any of us. Plus, you already know your way around Las Vegas.”

The rest of the team nodded in agreement, while Spencer still looked terrified.

“And plus,” Emily spoke up, hoping to convince Spencer, “She works at a bookstore.”

Everyone but Hotch and Spencer laughed.

Spencer was stuck. He didn't know how to talk to people, he didn't know how to get to know someone. He was only good with facts, and talking to an unsub- one that he was supposed to make comfortable -did not involve facts.

But, he knew his team needed him, he knew that they were all stressed, that the others had taken the losses harder than he had. He knew that if he could do this if he could learn about this girl, the world would be clearer for his family.

“Reid, I only want you to do this if you’re comfortable.” Hotch pulled Reid out of his thoughts, his eyes stern and unmoving. His voice was completely serious, and Spencer could hear hints of reassurance in his words. It was comforting to know that Hotch trusted him to make the right decision.

Spencer took a deep breath. Reminded himself that his team trusted him too.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

***

An apartment.

They would get him an apartment.

He would live in Las Vegas for as long as he deemed necessary.

He would stay and he would learn everything he could about Y/N.

He would profile her, send reports back to his team.

He would try and talk to her. He would try to get to know her.

He would change everything.

He would do his job.

He would talk to a girl.

A girl.

A murderer.

A girl. He would have to talk to her.

He would.

A girl.

“Hi, I’m Spencer.”

***

reminder that this is part one, and its more of a introduction than the actual story

sorry if it sucked

my masterlist:

part two

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fan #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb #mgg fanfiction

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

fbgm (fuck bitches get money)

pike jj x reader (plus: cody and tyler)

five times you text cody and tyler plus one time they text you

this is the origin story of you meeting cody and tyler + getting to know them, all taking place over the span of freshman year

(warnings: cursing)

One

You and JJ had been in the library for over 12 hours and were running on coffee and protein bars. He was laying on his back, laptop on his chest, asleep, and you were on your stomach, flipping through your highlighted notes to find the exact quote you wanted to use in your paper.

His stomach growled loudly and jolted him awake with a groan. Shoving his laptop to the side, JJ stretched before saying, “We need actual food. I can call some friends to bring us some Jimmy John’s if you’re down.”

“Fuck, that sounds fantastic right now.”

“Sweet. I’ll add you to our group message and you can send your order.”

Your body went cold for a second, “Wait, what? Why can’t I just type in your phone.”

“I need to look at the menu, just send them yourself.”

Mouth gaping for a few seconds, you protested, “I don’t know your friends. Isn’t that weird?”

“Nah, they’re cool dudes,” he reassured just as texts starting pouring onto your screen.

Maybank who the fuck is this number

Oh is it the hot girl from your English class. Right on dude

Dumbass she can fucking see this.

JJ we can just add whoever we want whenever now

Shut the fuck up and be nice, you’re the reason we don’t have any girl friends

Speak for yourself dickhead

JJ gave you an apologetic smile and said, “Well, at least you can order your food now.”

You sighed and typed your order out, thumb hesitating over the send button. Looking over at him, you asked, “Can you send something first, I feel weird.”

He gave you a look, “Dude, just send it.” So you did.

When the boys showed up thirty minutes later with the food, you could’ve kissed one of them from how hungry you were. The taller one dropped down next to you and held his fist up, “Nice to meet you officially, I’m Cody.”

You bumped it and the other guy handed you the food, “I’m Tyler, your savior, because Cody managed to misread your order, but I made sure they got it right.”

“Nice to meet you guys, thanks for the food.”

You thought they’d leave, but they stayed, fucking around on their phones for a while until JJ got up to leave. They all bid you goodbye and Cody winked, “Text me anytime.”

Two

JJ was driving the two of you to a basketball game and he swore under his breath. You looked up from your phone as he dug through his wallet. After a few seconds, the light turned green, and he told you, “Hey, text Cody and Tyler and tell them to bring me my Student ID please.”

“You text them,” you said, not really wanting to. You’d had the message on mute because they sent a lot, and you never had anything to add, so you left it alone. You didn’t really want to open it and see what they’d been talking about.

He gave you an exasperated look at the next red light, “I’m driving, plus you have their numbers.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them.”

“And whose fault is that? That’s why were all going to hang out at the game.”

You sighed and sent it, not happily by any means.

Can someone grab JJ’s ID out of his booksack

Sure thing, tell him he owes me a milkshake for having to climb the fucking stairs

His phone lit up and he nodded, “See, not so bad was it?”

JJ told you Tyler was a huge basketball fan (specifically the Sixers), and he had Opinions on your school’s team. He bounced over to you when they parked next to JJ, “I hear you’re a basketball girl.”

“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh.

“Look, neither of those chumps respect it, and I need you to know that we will be doing March Madness brackets this year.”

“Brackets are fun,” you agreed, “can’t wait to wipe the floor with you.”

“Oh, you’re looking to get beat, huh?”

“I never lose,” you told him confidently.

He smirked, “We’ll see about that one. I don’t know who you’ve been playing, but you’ve got competition this year.”

The game was fun. Normally you’d have sat next to JJ, but Tyler let you sit on the end and sat on the other side. He talked your ear off about player stats and made jokes about the other players which had you laughing hard enough to get JJ’s attention. JJ leaned around Tyler to ask, “You good over there?”

“Better than Notre Dame, that’s for damn sure.”

“Oh shit!” Tyler said, giving you a fist bump. JJ winked at you and you felt a lot better after the game, finally feeling like you could get to know at least one of those guys.

The next basketball game you went to was with Tyler. He wanted to go see the Duke versus UNC game, and the two of you got there early waiting in line with your student ID’s to get a bracelet and get in. Tyler was wearing a t-shirt with “In Zion We Trust” written across the chest, and he was Hyped.

“Take a picture with me so I can put it on twitter. I need Zion to follow me before he gets drafted.”

You agreed with a laugh and he handed his phone to the person standing behind y’all to take the picture. It came out nice. He smiled at it, “Sweet. Now I’ve got the pretty girl trap to get that athlete follow. You’re a great wingman.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

He smiled, “Feels good to have a basketball friend. We’re going to have to drive to Charlotte when the Sixers come to town.”

Three

You slumped over on your bed and JJ looked over at you, “What’s wrong now?”

“I’m fucked. This stupid fucking theatre class. I didn’t buy the book and now I need it and I don’t know anyone in that class and I can’t afford it all in one sitting.”

JJ furrowed his eyebrows, “Wait, Intro to Theatre?”

“Yeah, do you have the book?” you asked hopefully.

He shook his head, “No, sorry, but isn’t Cody in your class?”

“What?”

“Yeah, if it’s Tuesday and Thursday at 9:30 Cody is in that class.”

You searched your memory, trying to remember seeing him at any point in the semester. He could’ve definitely set at the top and you wouldn’t know because you always sat about halfway up, not wanting to climb all those stairs to the top of the auditorium.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him there.”

JJ snorted, “Okay well I never said he actually went to class. Text him though, because I’m sure he’d be down split textbook costs and just share the e-book.”

“Can you do it?”

“You’re an adult. Plus, you’ve sent stuff in the group, I thought you were okay now?”

“I was drunk!”

“Text the group if you aren’t comfortable enough to text Cody separately. Your grade is more important than your strange aversion to texting my friends.”

You rolled your eyes, but he was right.

Cody are you in theatre 161 on Tuesday and Thursday morning?

Yeah ugh pls don’t bring it up

Did you get the textbook?

Okay I guess we’re bringing it up…no I did not

We have questions from the end of chapter 5 due online, do you wanna just split the book for the rest of the semester? Rent it online or something?

Wait we have homework in that class

JJ laughed loudly where he was reading the conversation next to you and you sighed, trying to not throw your phone across the room. You looked at JJ, “Your friends are idiots.”

“Careful, bud, you sound a little fond.”

We have homework every week and a quiz every other week…

Oh fuck, you think it’s too late for me to come back from this?

I think there’s a bonus essay for 30 points which might help some?

Let’s split the book.

Venmo me.

You rented the book and sent him a link before settling down to do your own homework, and you felt better about reaching out if you needed homework help again.

It didn’t really come up between the two of you again until he texted you one Wednesday afternoon out of the blue asking what night you were going to see Arcadia for class. You had a ticket for the Friday night showing, and after about 30 minutes, he texted you again that he’d cancelled his plans and gotten one too.

The two of you met for dinner and walked to the theater near the caf together. He was talkative, “I did some research on this play and I actually read the chapter on how to take notes on plays, so I have my tiny notebook and I’m ready.”

“I saw Arcadia with my sister a while back, so I kind of know what’s going on, and I can help if you need,” you said, holding your own tiny notebook.

“For sure. Might should get together to write our papers, that’s going to be what fucks me. If you don’t mind meeting tomorrow at 11, I’ll bring coffee and we’ll knock it out.”

“Sounds great.”

You weren’t sure how good of a theatre buddy Cody was going to be, but you clearly underestimated him. He laughed at the right time, turned his phone off and not just on silent, and didn’t even get up once besides during intermission.

Cody walked you back to your dorm at midnight, when it finally ended, and before you could get inside called out, “Text me your coffee order for tomorrow, I’ll run by Dunkin.”

Four

JJ said he might be at his dorm when you got there, but when you texted him to come let you up, you got no answer. After pacing a few minutes outside, you decided it was too cold for that shit, so you bit the bullet and texted in the group.

I’m supposed to meet JJ, can anyone let me in the dorm?

It didn’t take long for someone to get back to you. Tyler responded after a few seconds.

Fuck dude, are you outside? I’m coming down.

You were practically shivering when he shoved the door open, and he pulled you inside. The RA sitting at the desk didn’t even look up when the two of you passed and he shook his head, “Man, where the fuck is Maybank?”

“Not sure, was going to ask you the same question.”

Tyler swiped to unlock the door and you saw Cody coming out of the toilet area. He brightened, “Yo, long time no see. What are you doing here?”

“Supposed to be hanging out with JJ tonight,” you muttered, checking your phone again.

Cody shrugged, “Come watch Great British Baking Show with me and Tyler. We have popcorn.”

It was warm and you liked GBBS, so you nodded and kicked your shoes off to follow them into their room. JJ didn’t get back for another hour, and by the time he got there, the three of you had ordered pizzas, started another episode, and were laying on Cody’s bed which was closest to the TV.

JJ stood in the doorway, “What’s going on guys?”

“Where have you been?” Tyler asked, tone accusatory.

“I-“ JJ was caught off guard, “got some dinner with friends.”

“Good thing we ordered pizza then,” you laughed, not too upset that he’d forgotten. JJ had the tendency to do shit like that.

“Fuck,” JJ sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

“All good. Glad your roommates are ten times more clutch than you.”

JJ rolled his eyes as the other boys preened and held their fists out for you to bump.

Five

Changing a flat tire isn’t that hard. Changing a flat tire and realizing halfway through that you don’t have a spare is hard. You could’ve fucking cried looking at the empty compartment that the spare usually sat, and you almost did, but last minute pulled your phone out to text the boys.

Anyone free for the next like 45 minutes to an hour to take me to get a spare tire

Before you could send anything else.

Jk we’ll come get you

So, you decided to sit on the curb and wait. Tyler’s truck pulled up and you hopped up, grabbing your wallet and keys. Cody hopped out the other side, put the tire in the tailgate, and climbed in the back, leaving the front open for you.

Tyler cranked up the music as soon as you shut the door and tore out of the parking lot before you could even buckle up. You thought Cody was being nice letting you get the passenger seat, but you later found out he just wanted to sit behind Tyler because, “The driver always protects his side first.”

You held on to the door as he whipped into the AutoZone parking lot and got out of the car as fast as possible as soon as he parked. Cody was laughing as you sagged against the car, head spinning, and he clapped a hand down on your shoulder, “Bet you wish you’d have just taken an uber.”

“I wish JJ had answered my text.”

Cody and Tyler followed you into the store to ask someone to repair your tire. Tyler leaned against the counter next to you and Cody scrolled through something on his phone while you talked to the guy who clearly wasn’t taking you very seriously.

You huffed, getting Tyler’s attention, and he looked up from his hands, “What’s up?”

Before you could say anything, the man cut in, “I don’t think she knows what she wants.”

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and nudged Cody before responding, “What do you mean?”

“She just needs to get a new tire.”

“We brought the tire, just look at it because she thinks it can be repaired,” Tyler defended, crossing his arms.

Cody moved to stand on the other side of you, “Why can’t you just look at it?”

“If you buy a new tire, we’ll send someone back to your car with you to put it on.”

“I can put it on myself,” you responded indignantly.

Tyler squeezed your shoulder, “I can’t change a tire, but she can. Show some respect and just give her what she’s asking for, man.”

The worker rolled his eyes but did as Tyler said, and your heart swelled a little bit with fondness at these two guys who you didn’t know all that well standing up for you. Throwing your arms over their shoulders, you squeezed them closer, “My heroes.”

Cody shrugged, “Now we know who to call if we need a tire changed.”

Plus One

You slept in one Saturday, finally happy to be through with a busy week, and when you woke up had over 50 texts from Cody and Tyler asking to come to their dorm to help them make a cake for JJ’s birthday. Cody was the last to text, so you responded to him.

Give me like ten mins to get dressed and I’ll come to your dorm.

Oh thank fuck you’re alive!

I wasn’t dead, I’m just tired.

Wake up sweetheart, busy day today

The boys had a recipe and the ingredients all spread out when you got there and the three of you took control of the dorm building’s kitchen on the first floor. Tyler pulled up some music and sat on the counter, content to watch you and Cody do the work.

It went relatively smoothly. Cody almost fucked it up by grabbing the salt instead of the sugar, and the tablespoon instead of the teaspoon, but you got it in the oven without too much extra struggle. Tyler made grabby hands at one of the spoons and you rolled your eyes but handed it to him anyway.

“Thanks, you’re the best. Better than Maybank,” Tyler told you before licking the spoon.

“I know I’m the best, but thanks for reminding me.”

Cody made a noise, “Oh, we’ve been discussing group chat names and we’ve narrowed it down to a few. It’s your pick.”

“Lay ‘em on me,” you told them, moving to sit on the cabinet next to Tyler.

“Fuck bitches get money, AutoZone annihilators, and Greek gods.”

“Oh my god, Greek gods? Think much of yourself, do you?” you asked between laughs.

Tyler rolled his eyes, “You know we mean because Greek life.”

“I know, but still. I like fuck bitches get money.”

Cody cheered, “Fuck yeah, my choice!” and changed the name immediately.

The timer went off and Cody reached down to pull the cake out. Tyler gathered up all the utensils and ingredients and followed Cody out of the kitchen. He cheered, “Come on bitches, let’s go wake up the princess!”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #frat!jj #pike!jj #outer banks #outer banks fic #jj maybank fic

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shiberpostshere · 4 years

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

28. Chapter Twenty Four: Cinematic Parallels✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 4.3 K

Note: This contains suggestive content.

5:00 PM. The clock was ticking a little too slow for your liking.

The second coffee cup of the day, now empty and sweating even in the air conditioned atmosphere of the cafe, accurately depicts your inner state minus the perspiration.

You continue chewing on your bottom lip, a little expectant and a little hesitant. It has been difficult to pay attention to the book in your hands, you’re rather occupied with counting the seconds on the clock for the past excruciatingly long fifteen minutes.

After testing out approximately millions of scenarios about what explanation Seonghwa is going to offer to put an end to your dilemma, the final one you kept arriving to is, ending things between you two.

An end to a relationship you've never experienced before that merely began a few weeks ago.

An end?

The assumptions were eating you from within. It’s strange how worried you have been for the last few days but it's even more queer that your feelings for him are rigid and unfazed.

Why is your heart ready to forgive him even for the worst case scenario?

All he had to say was, ‘Trust me’ and you did.

Your head falls back with a slump of exhaustion. “Oh my god, why are feelings so complicated?”

The intense war of dichotomy that's going on between your stubborn heart and persistent mind has been tiresome. It is a scenario where the brain is presenting blunt but logical ideas and the heart is deflecting those with its mellow and soothing sentiments.

The mind prepared a list of “Possible Hindrances You Will Have to Deal with When Managing a Relationship with Park Seonghwa” and your heart fired back with a counter argument of “Times When Park Seonghwa Made You Feel Extremely Happy and Appreciated”.

They are both correct in their respective standpoint. It is you who needs to settle on a conclusion which you cannot unless you learn Seonghwa’s perspective.

Okay, (Y/N) stop the train of thoughts, let’s think after we talk, let’s consider things after we talk, let’s focus on this wonderful book for now.

“Scoot over.” A heavy voice announces and you look up to register the undetected mischievous boy, standing in his tall glory, laptop held with care to his chest.

You slide along with your belongings, studying Mingi as he settles down with concern written all over his features.

“Okay.” The response comes out of you in an unexpectedly meek voice.

“I know you weren’t expecting my company but at least don’t look so disappointed.” In surprisingly quick movements he begins to work, fingers furiously drumming on the keyboard with his brows furrowed to an intense depth.

Indeed, you were not expecting his company but you didn’t want to openly broadcast the not-so-subtle disappointment. “What brings you here?” You ask, finally placing down the book whose title is already wiped clean out of your mind.

The amount of concentration currently present in your mind, almost none, made the task of reading troublesome. You did not get past the first sentence. You don’t even remember the said first sentence you read, maybe almost a thousand times for the last fifteen minutes of waiting.

The tall boy runs his fingers through his messy locks, disturbing them further. “Did you forget already?” His skeptical eyes meet your clueless ones.

“Oh.” A thoughtless answer because you truly have no idea what he is implying.

He leans lazily into the palm of his hand. “The pendrive, (Y/N)”.

The pendrive? What pendrive?

You shuffle through your rack of memories for a plausible answer. “Oh, shit. Hongjoong’s pendrive?”

He nods at your realization.

The pen drive Hongjoong entrusted with you last Friday to copy the contents for backup purposes and it was to be delivered to Mingi right after you were done.

He holds out his palm. “Give me it. I’ll be on my way, I don’t want to intrude.” A brief pause. "The talk, or whatever, um.."

An awkward smile stretches onto your lips, right hand sheepishly reaching out to the back of your neck.

The pen drive Hongjoong entrusted with you last Friday is actually not in your possession.

“What? Why are you making that weird face?” Don’t tell me--” He halts his rant, his suspicions getting confirmed as your awkward smile transforms into a rather skittish one.

You shoot up from your seat. “I remember Hongjoong telling me it's in the first drawer of the second cabinet, I will be right back!” In a hurried motion, you jump out of the broad bench, ready to sprint to and from the studio.

Mingi’s fingers catch a fistful of your coat before you can flee. “What am I supposed to tell Seonghwa when he arrives? I am not going to wait here in that kind of gloomy mood with him!”

You try to untangle his heavy hold on your coat. “I promise I will be back in no time. I came fifteen minutes early to prepare myself to talk to him! He won’t be here for another five minutes.”

He releases the hold, slightly shaking his head in disapproval. “Fine but be back as soon as possible.” His fingers shuffle inside his pants pockets to take out a small door key. “Take the key.” The studio key is tossed your way to catch.

“Thanks!” Holding up two thumbs up in the spur of the moment, you curse internally for admitting your obvious desperation out loud.

The distance between the building that houses various types of studios for the artistic students of KQU and Cafe Utopia, a space mostly occupied by the music and dance majors to relax during their breaks is only five minutes apart.

The ground is slippery and shifting under your heavy footsteps as you are trying to jump towards the studio.

You have seen a late, panicked Wooyoung in action, grabbing a drink priorly prepared for him (he has charmed all the part timers of the cafe) and disappearing out of the cafe within the time span of sixty seconds. It’s truly a wondrous sight to see until you’re in the similar situation, (You have not charmed all the part timers, not even San) running towards your class with not a single drop of temporary energy in your vessels.

The influence of the misunderstanding has clearly taken its toll on you. There have been a number of tasks you have forgotten or completed last minute due to your distracted mind since you learned the incomplete news. You were all over the place and you did not like it one bit.

While you’re hastily climbing up the stairs to reach the studio used by the Dazzling Night crew, you’re thankful that it resides on the first floor instead of fifth as a numbness creeps up your legs.

“Whoa! slow down.” A random boy comments as you dash by him, footsteps echoing through the corridor to reach the door at the very last.

“Sorry!” You shout, voice bouncing in the emptiness.

You halt with a screech in front of the locked door.

The door opens with a soft click and you turn on the lights, the 181024 studio illuminating with a warm glow. Your movements are quick as you navigate through the familiar surroundings, reaching out for the drawer.

A wave of relief washes over you when the blue pen drive with the owner’s initials is the first thing that comes into your vision after sliding the drawer open.

“Is it still there?” A sudden, soft comment startles you in the silence, hands flying up, increasing the pre-existing panting.

You turn around to address the unexpected guest and it is the last person you expected, quite contradictory, considering that you had been looking forward to his presence ever since today’s sun dawned in the sky.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Seonghwa’s eyes motion to the hand placed on your chest.

You let it fall, your body leaning back into the cabinet with a slight stumble. “No, it’s okay.” Retrieving the pen drive, you close the drawer. “I was just about to return. Mingi is leaving for the dance club soon.”

He studies the well accustomed surroundings, “I was thinking that maybe we can talk here instead?” You notice concealed bags underneath his weary eyes.

There is an evident urgency to the way he speaks, worried glances directed throughout the room.

For a brief moment you wish to wrap your arms around his warm and tall figure. To assure him and to be assured but you have to know what he has to say to control these storming feelings.

“Okay, yeah, sure, let’s talk here.” The temperature is too toasty to keep the coat on, you remove it and settle down on the only couch present in the studio.

Seonghwa closes the door behind him and takes a seat beside you, his fidgety fingers trying to keep themselves from reaching out to caress your face.

You gulp, pushing back your hair that is sticking to the nape of your neck, eagerly awaiting for him to speak. “Hwa?”

He looks up. “Yes?”

You let out a big exhale. “Can I say something before we talk about the Japan situation?” The fingers of your left hand begin pulling the threads of your right sleeve. “I have been thinking about certain things. Mostly about what I’ve been feeling which I often don’t think about.” Unknowingly, a nervous chuckle slips out of you.

He adjusts a little in his seat. “Yes, of course (Y/N). Tell me.” He is expecting to hear the conclusion he had been dreading.

“You know, when I heard from Mingi that you are leaving for Japan, the first thought that crossed my mind was a selfish one.” You observe his expression before you continue. He offers you every grain of his attention. “Even though both of us are busy with our own studies, you still find time for me, look out for me and I don’t know, it just feels extremely comforting in your presence. It’s almost as if I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around."

That was not what he presumed you wanted to say to him.

His expression softens. “(Y/N), you look out for me as well, I hope you know how much I value the time we spend.”

A small sad smile appears on your lips. “It comes to naturally, I don’t know, I just feel like you’re always looking out for everyone but you’re a big baby yourself. You need someone to look out for you as well, dummy.” He opens his mouth to protest at your playful comment but you’re quick to continue. “It hasn’t been so long, maybe a few weeks but everything went so well. I looked forward to even the shortest amount of time we spent together. Even when you spontaneously appeared out of nowhere and accompanied me to the class.” You stop for a moment. “I’m not making much sense right now, am I?”

He shakes his head, an expression of awe written all over his features. “No, I understood everything, it’s okay.”

“But” You hesitate and his features shift into an anxious one. “But, I didn't consider the eventual obstacles we might face in the future, taking in account that you’re graduating next year and I am barely beginning my college life. I actually purposely didn’t think about it, I wanted to save it for later until--”

“Until you learned that I am leaving for Japan.” He concludes the sentence in your stead.

You nod. “I like you a lot, Seonghwa. My feelings are intense enough that I won’t be able to decide what I should be feeling next unless you tell me everything yourself.” You said it, you finally said it.

“What?” He questions, a little taken aback.

Oh no. Maybe, I shouldn’t have poured out everything at once. God, what have I done?

The way he appears perplexed, he definitely was not expecting you to dump out your feelings on him when you said you wanted to talk. You are pretty sure he is feeling pressured by this revelation.

“The important thing you wanted to tell me was not putting an end to us before it escalated further?” After hearing his question, it's your turn to be confused by his words.

“What?” You push back the unruly hair falling in front of your face with both of your hands, unable to decide if he’s suggesting to end things.

He moves a little closer. “You don’t want to end what we have, right?”

“No! But that depends on whether you’re going or not. Wait, do you want to end...this?”

“No!” He is extremely quick to answer. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?” You’re eager to hear what he has to say. The puzzling thoughts are clouding your mind.

“I am not moving to Japan after graduation. I am simply accompanying Hongjoong for a month to help him settle, like a short vacation after three years of continuous college.” He finally admits the entire thing. The following sentence that truly makes or breaks the incomplete one you had heard before. The incomplete one you had heard before and especially not from him.

“You’re not moving to Japan after graduation? You’re only going away for a month? Just a month?” You repeat to make sure that you heard it right even though he stated it with proper enunciation.

In the span of twenty years of your life, you didn’t know that it was possible to feel embarrassed and relieved at the same time yet at this moment you’re experiencing both.

You’re embarrassed because of the millions of possible negative scenarios you coddled in your mind, the time you spent brooding, the time your friends had to take measures to elevate your mood and relieved that hopefully nothing would change between you and Seonghwa, at least not in the way you had feared them to and despised every second of those intrusive thoughts.

“Yes, I am only going away for a month after my graduation.” There is now a similar smile of relief on his lips.

The edges of your shoulders droop. “If you can’t tell, I feel extremely stupid right now. I feel so stupid.”

Seonghwa tilts his head, his movements relaxing for the first time since you started speaking. “Will it help if I told you that I assumed the same? I feel stupid for not telling you myself before you heard it from someone else and that’s what caused the misunderstanding in the first place, (Y/N). Their is no one at fault here, trust me.”

“Are you disappointed?” The inquiry slips out of your subconscious.

His hands take yours to securely enclose them in between his palms. “Not at all. There will be small misunderstandings, bad feelings, unintentional hurtful words and external factors that will stand as an obstacle in any relationship. Do you know how happy I am that you decided to hear me out instead of arriving at a conclusion of your own? I was worried, (Y/N).” His faltered gaze lingers on the entangled fingers. “I was worried that right when I started spending time with someone who understands me, who makes me smile, who relieves me from my troubles and brings out the good sides in me might end up leaving.” He bites back the urge to say, ‘again’.

“Oh, Seonghwa.”

Without further thought, you reach out to him and pull him close into you by clasping your arms firmly around his shoulders. He responds immediately as he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you even closer. He snuggles his face into the crevice of your neck, his gentle breaths causing a little tickling sensation.

Out of all the times he has held you before, sometimes unintentionally when you’re with your friends, quite often after a long day when he falls into your embrace, and always before you leave for the night after the show, today you feel the utmost satisfaction and at ease.

His hand is caressing your back in a serene motion to cast away the doubts created by the miscommunication.

You remove your face from his homely shoulder, arms still intact around him as if he is the most precious being in this world. “Let’s talk, okay? Let’s give each other time in future so that we can solve things when we’re ready to talk. I know things will change, things are bound to change but let’s try to understand as we get through the most simplest or the most complicated situations.”

He appears displeased that you disturbed him from the snugness of your neck that he had settled in to but delivers an instant agreement to your question along with a quick peck that he places to the closest cheek. “Yes, let’s.”

Blood begins rushing to your face instantly due to his sweet gesture.

“So, can we go back to the part when you said you like me a lot?” To your disappointment, he releases the hold around your waist but the disappointment is short-lived as the free hand of his travels to your thigh in an attempt to lift you onto his lap.

The bold action of his catches you off guard, his other hand now bringing you closer to him with not even a centimeter of space left in between. The thumping of your heart is ringing in your ear as you feel his thighs you’ve been flopped onto, underneath.

You’re stunned with arms still locked around his shoulders. “Why do we have to go back to that part in particular?” The intimacy is making it difficult for you to maintain a constant eye contact with him.

His eyes that hold an amused yet admiring gleam try to find yours but you’re dealing with a current little conflict of your own. The thoughts are flashing with intense hues in your mind due the fact that his hand is resting quite dangerously on your thigh and the other arm has you locked by the waist.

You are not complaining but this outcome is not what you exactly prepared yourself for. This particular scenario did not even cross your mind for a nanosecond. How come this has never crossed your mind? He has nice thighs.

He has nice thighs? Of course he has nice thighs! You have noticed how sturdy they are, especially when he’s wearing skinny jeans. Oh my god, did I ogle at Seonghwa’s thighs in public when he was wearing skinny jeans? What if he caught me ogling at him when he was wearing skinny jeans? IN PUBLIC? Not to forget the time you kept staring at the definitions of his arms that one blessing of a day when he wore a tank top due to the sweltering weather. But how can I not look at him when he looks THIS ATTRACTIVE? WHAT EXACTLY AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IN THIS SITUATION?

As you’re contemplating and battling with quite interesting thoughts, entranced in your own bubble, Seonghwa is observing you with a smirk that you have not noticed yet.

“What are you thinking about? You’re stark red, baby.” He appears absolutely delighted, a kind of joy you’ve ever witnessed before.

“Baby? Baby?” You repeat like a lust stricken puppet.

“Yes?” His hand trails from your neck to your waist in an excruciatingly slow pace. The temperature in the studio rising enough to convince you to discard your clothes.

Why did my mind even go to the thought of removing clothes? Shut up!

His hand settles on the nape of your neck, tugging you down to his forehead. “You don’t like this?”

You part your lips to answer but your system fails to support you.

His breath fans on your lips due to the proximity of your faces. “Can I kiss you?” His voice sounds heavy when he asks. A deep tone you’ve never heard him speak with.

“What?” You’re flustered, heart thumping wildly in your ribcage, ready to burst out. Your gaze continues shifting back and forth between his beautiful, chestnut eyes and tender, pink, kissable lips.

His finger gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?”

You unlock the clasp of your fingers from behind his neck to carefully hold his cheeks. “Oh. I mean, yes, of course--”

Your lips collide. They meet with such haste as if he had been counting days just to have you to himself. The feeling of his plump lips against yours is unbelievable. Unbelievable enough for you to tilt your head for a deeper taste. He tastes like strawberries, extremely sweet and addicting.

Your chests are pressed together, hearts beating frantically in a mismatched rhythm but sharing the fervour. You let one hand trail down to trace the unexplored areas you couldn’t dare to before. His entire body is blazing with a familiar passion that is swirling within you as well. He lets his hand perform smooth strokes around your neck with his dainty fingers supplying a tingling sensation all the way down to your core by the delicacy of the action.

He kisses you. He drinks you in, again and again. You break apart for a mere second to take in a deep breath and connect your lips with such urgency, unable to get enough of each other.

In the moment that is burning up with each and every second ticking by, actions are getting bolder. Seonghwa’s hands move up to your chest, to explore every inch of you and your fingers are roaming through his hair, kneading through the soft black locks. The dizzying movements intoxicating him further.

He catches your lower lip in quick, needy pecks and proceeds with something you did not see coming. His teeth grasp it with a painfully long drawl, leaving you breathless. A swarm of butterflies are whirling in your stomach and your head leans back the moment he releases your lips to let the suppressed throaty moan finally escape. He takes the opportunity to pepper feathery kisses all the way around your collarbone, the plump lips connecting with warmth and leaving behind a chill that vibrates down your spine.

Chests heaving up and down with exhilaration and shortness of breath, You grab his face and plant one long lasting peck.

“OH MY GOD, NOT AGAIN!” A deafening, exasperated exclaim pierces your ears.

The shriek frightens you as you lose your balance and your forehead bumps against Seonghwa’s head with a loud thud causing you two to hiss and yelp at the impact.

There he stands by the door, Song Mingi, the requester of the pen drive that vanished magically out of your minds. His ears are boiling red, jaw hanging a little too low and eyes stretched to their maximum possible width.

Mingi takes in every detail ruefully. Seonghwa’s hands messily entangled around your neck and waist while yours held his face. Your body cozy on his friend’s lap, hair disheveled, swollen red lips and loss of air depicts it crystal clear that PG-13 activities were surely going to lead up to Rated R. Mingi does not wish to know what happened before and he definitely does not wish to be aware of what was going to happen on the studio couch. The only couch in the studio to crash on, the couch he liked to roll on while Hongjoong worked and now it will be the couch he is never going to even lay one finger on.

“Mingi, I--” Seonghwa opens his mouth to explain, maybe even apologise for the sight the boy has walked onto.

Meanwhile, you’re occupied with examining the ceiling to its greatest details, unable to register Mingi’s presence due to the embarrassment.

The tall boy holds up his hands. “You were here for the pen drive, the pen drive!” He mutters under his breath, snatching the blue device from the half open drawer with furious eyes. “What is with you guys kissing and me walking at the exact time? It was cringy back then, now it’s just, my god” You decide to answer but he silences you and continues, “You were supposed to talk! What happened to talking? Oh my god, leave me alone, please.” He shakes his shoulders and arms with a face of disgust.

“We were talking.” You say in a timid tone.

Seonghwa nods a little too enthusiastically. “We were talking.”

Mingi rolls his eyes. “Clearly.” He stomps towards the door. “Clearly, you were talking and not sucking each other’s face in a public studio. Not in the studio, guys! God, whatever. I am leaving.”

Yeosang’s warnings about funny business in the studio pops into your mind.

“MINGI DON’T TELL YEOSANG, PLEASE!” You scream out a plea as Mingi walks out.

He answers in his low voice already out of the studio. “STOP MAKING OUT IN PUBLIC STUDIOS!”

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s hands resting on your hips, keeping you settled, you’d leaped out behind Mingi.

He chuckles beneath you, thumbs tracing circles on your stomach. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll complain for a week and then forget about it.”

The thought of flustered Mingi and irritated Yeosang is pushed far back into your mind the moment your eyes take in the bliss present on Seonghwa’s features. “You’ll silence them with that gentle glare of yours whereas they’ll bring it up every time I cause a minor inconvenience, we’re different, Hwa.” Even though you’re supposed to be complaining, you’re focused on fixing the strands of hair ruffling against his forehead.

“I like it when you call me ‘Hwa’. God, what are you doing to me?” He leans upwards to place a soft peck on your jaw almost pulling you back into the extraordinary emotions you experienced a few minutes ago. “I like you a lot, (Y/N).”

You release yourself from his hold and he displays extreme dismay at your actions. “You better or else the makeout session would make no sense if you didn’t.”

He too, stands up and his arm sneaks around your waist. “I am feeling too good, nothing will get me riled up today.” His lips find your cheek again. He had been waiting for a while to shower you with affection and now that he has received the golden chance, he will not waste it.

“Hongjoong and Yeosang will find out and scold you.” Your comment goes through his one ear and escapes through the other. He is elated and unbothered.

“Mmmm, okay.” He responds lightheartedly with a shrug.

The contentment he is displaying through gentle touches, adoring eyes and unfading smile, you’re capturing all those elements to cherish at present and in the uncertain but the coming future, with Seonghwa. The mere thought is giddying enough.

You’re falling for this man and you’re falling hard but you’re unaware that so is he.

Pairing: (Business Management Major) College Student! Seonghwa x (Law Major) College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you “borrowed” once a kiss from. Years have passed and it’s a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you’re to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: Take a shot every time Mingi says “God, My god, Oh my god.”

How are you guys doing? How did you like the chapter? do tell, do tell! Spare feedback please!

I attempted to write a steamy scene, did I do well? I am not quite experienced (nervous laughter) but I tried my best to relay what I wanted to. We’re SO close to the end. Earlier I was just thinking that my god, something I started is actually finishing, I can’t believe it.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

🌸Tags:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @cloudsgathering @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @retrofuture-ism @hongjoongsnoona @ateezficz @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @choisaniskillingme @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @baes-moon-scribbles @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell

🌸Unable to tag: @mingiibabieee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19

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Please do not repost, modify or claim these images.

#ateez #ateez social media au #ateez fluff #ateez fake texts #ateez text au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateezsmau #ateez sm au #ateez social au #ateez au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #choi san #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 9/?

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Y/N- Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

I am sorry. lmao.

Half of my links are glitched tf out fuck this shit, touched grass yesterday but that grind don’t fuckin stop babey

Warnings: Angst - Injury, Description of said injury, Mentions of Jason’s past, Swearing, Dark Themes, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason clutched his right side as he gasped for a long breath of the cold, rainy air surrounding him. Everything hurt and he could barely move enough to text Dick that he was down. He would hold and add pressure to the stab wound sitting directly on his waist, but he could feel the blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he held it. His hands were covered by the blood and he was losing it fast.

He wasn’t going to walk this off by any means, he was going to need Dick to go get him and bring him back to the hospital wing of the Batcave because he couldn’t move and he felt his eyes drooping as he waiting and tried to keep his breathing in check, while Dick was scrambling to go get him.

There would be a few questions he would have to answer to Y/N. Not even just Y/N, to Lian, his Goddaughter, who he was planning on seeing in the morning since Y/N was going to a dance competition, or at least he thought she was.

But in that moment, so many memories flew back into his head, the hopelessness as he sat there for a few seconds, bleeding out after the explosion that Joker had set off on him. And then the minutes in the Lazarus Pit as he drowned himself back to life, the water filling his lungs as he cried and screamed. But no one came.

This time, however, Dick came.

Dick swooped his baby brother up and onto his back and he tried to run to the Batmobile as fast as he could, knowing time was of the essence for saving Jason’s life. Jason had broke off from Dick for a few seconds before this moment, and it was the only thing Dick was worried about. That Dick had said to come back to him, alive.

In the car, Dick put his hands on Jason's gaping wound, trying to press his hands into it as well to slow the bleeding, the Batmobile had the ability to drive itself, and Dick thanked whatever God was watching that it did. Jason was struggling for breath at this moment, and Dick was terrified.

“You’re going to be oaky, Jase. I swear. Please. Don’t die on me, it feels like yesterday that I got you back,” he leaned into Jason’s face, “Not again, please,” Dick begged and begged as he rushed Jason to Alfred, who was waiting to operate on Jason.

--------------------------------------------

Y/N woke up as always, this time, without a text from Jason. She thought nothing of it, thinking he was safe in his house with his loving family. She went to go get coffee to kick start her day, and A/N wasn’t in the kitchen. She, still, thought nothing of it, since A/N’s lover was over the night before and she had to turn up her music to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the house. She sent Jason a quick text,

Good morning, Jay. I hope you slept well.

And she returned to her room, coffee in hand, to write some quick little stories about what she had placed in her journal. Not many of the ideas in there were able to be built off of, but she still tried her best with every idea she had, to see if it could be something more.

It normally never was, but it was always something she craved. The ideas of writing a book always enticed her, but she never thought she was talented enough to do so.

She heard her roommate’s door open and then the front door as A/N waved off her lover. It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Y/N loved that as she dove further and further into her work, immersing herself in the story of two lovers who were destined to meet after one moved to the hometown of the other to pursue criminal psychology.

She couldn’t get her mind off of Jason. They hadn’t even known each other for a week but she knew he was worth her time. A few hours passed by from when she sent the first text.

---------------------------------------------

Dick held Jason’s hand as he was hooked up to many different machines, he could breathe on his own, but the IV and the blood bags were hard to keep Dick’s eyes off of. If only I had been watching a little closer, he thought.

Jason fumbled in his pain-induced sleep, moaning and groaning as he did so when he opened his eyes to find a worried, sleep-deprived and very rough-looking Dick at his bedside, to which, Dick collapsed on Jason in a hug.

“Thank God,” Dick breathed.

“What... what the fuck.... what the fuck happened?” Jason stuttered, like a blanket of sleep and drugs had limited his mobility and brain function.

“I don’t know, Jase. That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me, but then again, your blood alcohol level was suspicious.”

“I... I didn’t drink... drink that much.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did drink, who was with you?”

“I don’t... know.”

“I think you were roofied so they could get the upper hand on you. You almost died, Jase.”

“Come...c’mere,” Jason managed to say, and when Dick came to him, he moved on of his hands onto Dick’s cheek, “Big... big annoying... big little annoying brother.”

“Shhhhhh, little wing,” Dick comforted his little brother, “You weren’t supposed to grow that much taller than me,” he laughed, “Dickhead,” he laughed again, then sighed, and stepped back from Jason to pace back and forth, he was stressed, “I told Roy-”

“Will.”

“Will, sorry. I told Will that you won’t be able to see Lian today, he asked what happened, he might drop by.”

“He should... shouldn’t have to... see me this... this way,” Jason said, eyes pooling with tears, “No one... should.”

“Don’t know how we’re going to explain this to your little girlfriend.”

“Oh... Man... I like... I like her.”

“I know you do, and that’s an issue when you’re high as a kite in a hospital bed, bleeding out, Jase,” Dick tried to explain, “Especially when she doesn’t know you’re Red Hood, dumbass.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I know, Jase. If it was me and Barbara didn’t know, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he sighed, “Haven’t even met this girl,” he laughed.

“It’s... it’s only been... 5 days,” he stuttered.

“and 3 back-to-back, multiple hour, spanning days, worth of dates. You don’t do that with someone you don’t think should meet your family.”

“You’re... stubborn.”

“And you’re my brother. It doesn’t take blood to exhibit the same traits.”

“The meds... are... are wearing off.”

“Do you need more?”

“Not... yet,” he struggled with his words, “Phone?”

“I mean, yeah I can give you your phone,” Dick said as he went to go unplug and hand Jason his phone, realizing that Y/N had texted Jason he said, “Guess you have someone who wants to know where you are more than Will does.”

“Will cares,” Jason said as he took the phone and read Y/N’s text,

I guess it isn’t morning anymore, huh.

Well that’s on me for texting you at 6 in the morning after I know you’ve been working late.

And I’m going to see my Goddaughter today, so I’ve been sleeping in to preserve energy for her.

Can’t forget that she’s what, 1 year old? Girl must have a lot of energy.

Her name’s Lian, and yeah. She’s a ball of energy.

He said as Lian and her dad, Will, formerly known as Roy, walked into the hospital wing of the Batcave. The secret wasn’t hidden to the little girl yet because she couldn’t remember a lot. But, she sure did recognize her Uncle Jay when she screamed her name.

Will brought his daughter up and put her beside her Uncle, and she cuddled into him, he would hold her back.

“Hey... Will.”

“You look like shit, Jaybird.”

“I feel... feel like shit.”

“You’re also talking slow, bud.”

“Drugs... do that... Will.”

“At least you’re not dead, I have no idea how I’d cope or even explain that to Lian.”

“She... she has your... eyes.”

“She’s growing into my nose too.”

“Your nose... looks like shit... on your face.”

“Okay, dickhead. You’re bedridden but yeah, attack me like you used to, I’ll just pull the plug.”

“Lian... would hate you... you for that,” he groaned as he said it.

“Do you need more drugs? I can tell Dick,” Will asked.

“Yeah... I think-”

“Don’t worry about finishing that, Jaybird. I got you.”

------------------------------------------------------

The wet ground surrounding the house Y/N lived in was a representation of what she considered, the bad things, washing away from her life as she got to know Jason more. She wished they could talk more that day, but she did not want to take away time from him and his Goddaughter. Family matters a lot to Y/N, so a thought like that just seemed selfish for her to think when she knew that little girl needed him.

She didn’t think he got injured or anything from the Office, it was a safer place than the fuckin Wayne Manor hallways. She texted Artemis,

So, you’re Wally’s girlfriend, and Wally is Dick’s best friend? Am I hearing you right?

That’s basically the intertwine we have here, yes.

So once you’re in this family, you’re IN, huh?

Nervous?

Not a chance.

The thrill of flipping off pap hasn’t left you yet?

Does everyone know about that? And yes, it’s still massively fun to do.

Wally says Dick is the only one who doesn’t think its that funny.

Lame.

C’mon now, that’s my best friend, but yeah, that’s pretty fucking lame.

You’re the fun best friend, then. You see the fun in making a fool of the pap.

You know it.

Artemis knew of what happened on patrol between Jason and his unknown attacker. Dick had told Artemis to distract Y/N from wondering why Jason seemed drunk, if he seemed drunk. The extents they went to to hide the fact that they were the vigilantes protecting the city, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep the secret.

Jason would talk to her after that message,

That storm last night was terrible.

I wish that we were together when it happened. I hate lightning.

Well, you were in Cali.

Did I not tell you? My competition was cancelled because the entire country is fucked with weather.

Oh. That sucks.

Do you want to spend the night here?

---------------------------------------

Do you want to spend the night here?

Jason stared at that text for a while. He did, he wanted to spend the night with her, but he was in pain, hooked to machines, with obvious wounds and bandages. He couldn’t spend the night with her.

I can’t. I’m in Metropolis with Will and Lian. Can we reschedule?

Of course we can. As long as you make sure we actually get to spend the night together.

He asked Dick in that moment, “How... how long... long til I heal?”

“Depends. You’ll be okay-ish in 5 days, but in 7-10 we have to take out your stitches if you’ve been taking care of them,” he said.

“That... that long? Damn.”

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shuturxface · 4 years

Text

Quarantine has, completely out of no where, compelled me to re-read The Life and Times. I finished three days ago and yes I’m still crying. BUT! to get my emotions out I wrote something of a “review”. It’s really just my thoughts about everything. No one asked but I’m posting it anyway.

Please enjoy, it’s below. Be warned, there are *spoilers*:

Thoughts and Musings:

I don’t particularly know why I’ve been so affected by The Life and Times this go around. I’ve always loved it, but I don’t think I’ve ever cried when Alice Griffiths (now Longbottom) tells Lily that she’s spontaneously marrying Frank Longbottom. And I also don’t think that I’ve ever felt more than fondness towards Marlene Price and Adam Mckinnon. And, I’ve always disliked Carlotta Meloni (especially during the summer and 7thyear), but I never actually hated her character. All until now. The first time I read The Life and Times, I really, really enjoyed it and appreciated the characters and the plot and the realism– like, come on, of course they’re not going to make out in the middle of an escape! However, I was, admittedly, disappointed with the lack of James/Lily action. Not that it was scarce, there certainly was a lot! But this time around, I finally realized why Jewels wrote it in that way. Lily disliked James – possibly resented him – for five years, and more strongly much more recently (I expect her unsavory opinions of him were most prominent during 5thyear, what with his excessive exclamations of “go on a date with me, Evans”). Of course, it’s going to take more than a few weeks to erase that! And it’s not like it could take less time, because, realistically, why would Lily want to spend that much more time with James if she wasn’t fond of him, and if they kept fighting. Honestly, their development as friends is much more interesting, and it shows an in-depth thought processes of fleshing out the characters. I am thoroughly moved by the fact that it doesn’t happen over-night or within a few days.

I’ve also read complaints about how James Potter is acting disinterested in Lily. To them I say: did you even read the goddamnstory?! Did you pass over the parts where he watches her when she’s not looking, and the parts where he is upset with himself for how strongly he feels about her?! If James Potter is anything, he is not an idiot (however idiotic he may act sometimes). From what the (actual HP) books show, James was interested in Lily and kept asking her out in their 5thyear. If I recall correctly, it was implied that he may have done so years prior. It is also stated, by Sirius Black, that they got together in 7thyear. Once again, that transformation from enemies to lovers is not going to happen overnight, and is definitely not going to happen if James Potter kept overtly obsessing over her in 6thyear. Also (!) there is a perfectly reasonable explanation Jewels gives us for why he acted this way: he wanted to get over her. Not only does this prove that he liked her deeply, not just superficially, but also that he got the message. He would have been truly, very thick had he not.

But back to the matter at hand. For some reason, this time around (I don’t remember, possibly third), I’ve been thoroughly engrossed and cried at different intervals of the story more so than before. I sobbed at the end of chapter 30, “The Worst Day Ever” in which it followed each character (Carlotta, Marlene, Donna, Mary, and Lily) on September 1st. I cried terribly during the last two chapters with the attack on the M.F.P. conference – the tension and the unknowing, and worst of all, the death of Sam Dearborn. Quickly, a word about Sam. Somehow, through so few chapters, Jewels created such a lovable character (limited in “screen time”) that his death (and Lily and James’ reaction to it) caused me to cry on multiple occasions. Jewels was able to capture the anguish of her characters so well, that for a moment I forgot it was a story at all and felt it myself. I cried when Sirius Black told Lily Evans that she “fit” with the Marauders, after she asked him why he was so sure she and James belonged together. I have absolutely no idea how she managed to utterly take me apart in the span of 3 days and 36 chapters, but no fanfiction has been able to do that.

I am fully in awe of what Jewels has created – The Life and Times is a work of art, capturing the 1970s in the Wizarding World perfectly. Would I like to see how each James and Lily, how Adam and Marlene, Mary and Reginald get together? No, I would love it. Am I still curious of how on earth all those 87 wizards and witches were murdered at the Magic For Peace convention, leaving no survivors? No, I’m haunted by it. And while there are parts that are frustrating to read (some sexist and misogynistic parts, especially from a few Ravenclaws are particularly uncomfortable), I also think she delivers an accurate representation of the 70s, which were much less politically correct that the world is today. She is not even encouraging this behavior because it’s all made by unlikeable “villainous” characters – not particularly evil, but definitely malicious.

Because Jewels created this story so magnificently, only she knew where it was headed and how it would play out. She wrote it so uniquely, using quick dialogue that made me feel that I was actually there. Phrasing her syntax in such a way that her descriptions were musical and poetic and completely relatable. Her chapter structures kept me on my toes, each one with its own unique flavor, yet all of them unified, flowing from one to the other perfectly.

Not only that, she created characters with strong, redeeming qualities as well as true, trying weaknesses. Lily Evans: she created Lily to be a kind individual that always sought to see the good in others, as J.K. Rowling told us she was. But she also made Lily imaginative and contemplative and romantic and strong, and, yes, sorrowful, fearful, angry, and (most importantly, if you ask me) not willing to discuss her real feelings with anyone, thus slightly hypocritical. James Potter: Jewels created James to be loyal, clever, more-than-slightly arrogant, humorous, brave, and even compassionate. But she also made him brooding, impulsive, hot headed, and many times, a prick. I could go on, but the main point is this: Jewels created complex characters. She didn’t make a wondrous, unfailingly kind Lily (if she were, why did she and James butt heads so viciously?), or a comical, lovesick James, a cheeky, brazen Sirius, a quiet, sentimental Remus, a quivering Pettigrew, or a moody, jealous Snape (yes, even he had more to him than this – drive and hunger to prove himself). Jewels created characters with depth! Characters that made mistakes and don’t just immediately learn from them. Hell, she made teenage characters in a fanfiction that didn’t ultimately think with their primary sex organ – characters that were able to see that there were more important things happening besides who’s shagging who. Of course, there were characters that were interested in this, but they’re not the type of people that would go to a protest at the Ministry of Magic (and, obviously, this just strengthens the certainty that James and Lily truly belong together). Essentially, Jewels created characters that are sometimes hard to like. She showed us real emotions and feelings and struggles like a proper novel. She went further than an exploration of two people’s love life and gave contextual reasons to their coming together, and why their relationship was so important in the greater scheme of Harry Potter. She created multiple storylines, intricately woven together, incorporating briefly mentioned characters in the Harry Potter series and giving them backstory and personalities. Jewels created a world within J.K. Rowling’s universe with complex political turmoil.

I fully and strongly admire the work and dedication that Jewels put into The Life and Times. I feel that it’s wishful thinking that she might return to this story after all these years (has it really been seven already?!), but I can’t help but wish all the same. I do understand because life does have a habit of getting in the way and people move on. I’m truly grateful for Jewels and what she gave to the world. No other fanfiction will ever evoke the feelings that The Life and Times does. No matter the emotional strife this story gives me, I will always be grateful, and it will always be my favorite. Thank you, Jewels.

#tlat #the life and times #jewels5 #Lily Evans #James Potter #jily #jily fanfiction #jily fandom #i literally love this story so much #Harry Potter #james x lily #limes #hp fanfic #hp fandom

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babysizedfics · 4 years

Text

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Bonus chapter: Yellow

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Janus detects a lie.

Chapter word count: 1,800

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warnings: light angst, very mild blood via a bitten lip, and brief, hypothetical mentions of disembowelment and decapitation (Remus, amirite?)

oOo

Janus sipped at his chamomile tea, only faintly registering the bright yellow haze that overcame the left side of his vision. Another lie.

His vision would flare several times a day at least, always informing him of an untruth spoken by one of the sides. He was, of course, accustomed to this alert, having lived with this power for the entirety of his existence.

As the hot herbal drink soothed his aching throat (it was murder on the lungs to reprimand Remus so much), he indulged in his curiosity and closed his eyes. With a practised concentration, he mentally reached out for the false words that had sounded his silent alarm.

It was Patton’s voice. The version of Patton’s voice that Janus had deemed “daddy dialect” in the recent weeks. ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

Janus scoffed.

The lies he was so accustomed to hearing spanned the breadth of significance, from inconsequential white lies (‘I don’t know who finished your Crofter’s jam, Logan.’) to really outrageous fabrications.

Within the past two months, he had heard quite the abundance of silly fibs. Even in the space of a fortnight, some truly ridiculous ones had stuck in his mind:

‘I don’t need dinner!’

‘I-I’m older now. I can do this on my own.’

‘It was a purely tactical approach.’

‘Three, two, one, blow! … You did it!’

It seemed almost every lie spoken by the self-proclaimed “Light Sides” nowadays was riddled with either petulance or condescension. (That is, Janus thought with a roll of his mismatched eyes, at least notably more than was usual for them.) The reason behind it was not lost on him. He may not have been the designated logical side, but it would take an absolute dunce to miss the cues on what exactly was happening in the others’ household; Logan and Patton had evidently taken on caregiving roles for Virgil and, unexpectedly - though perhaps it should not have been, given his childishness - Roman.

Janus had had his suspicions of such after walking in on the household spending time together a month previously. Given how fiercely protective Logan had been of the others and the way Patton had hidden the two younger sides behind himself, it would be hard to ignore the shift in their dynamic. Though the confirmation of it through listening in to the others’ unwitting lies had come as quite an unpleasant shock to Janus, nonetheless.

Every day he sensed silly fibs. The one earlier about baby giggles being a legal requirement under baby law had been… not endearing, per se (that yellow pulse again), but perhaps interesting. Though none of the nonsense he had been alerted to in the past few weeks came close to the idiocy of ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

How self-assured. How naïve. How reminiscent of Janus’ own foolish thoughts all those years ago.

He sighed, lowering his mug to the table and running his cold fingertips idly over the burning hot ceramic. It was not that Janus was jealous (he ignored the faint swell of yellow in the corner of his vision) but rather that he felt an uncomfortable bubble of remorse in his chest, growing and stretching and forcing its way against his ribs.

As he had done countless times before, he wondered what things would have been like had he behaved differently when the youngest side was still part of his household. Had he been more understanding of Virgil’s behaviours. More accepting.

Well, as Patton’s lie had brought up such aching memories, Janus decided a tad more bittersweet self-indulgence would be fitting for the night.

He rose from his seat, tucked the chair back under the table, and slinked through the house fluidly. He thanked his serpentine side for allowing him to practically float up the stairs and through the hallway without making a sound. If either of the other two residents heard him and decided to leave their rooms for a chat, Janus would not be held responsible for whatever unsavoury greeting he may bestow upon them.

A vile feeling clawed at his throat as he neared the perpetually closed door of Virgil’s old bedroom.

With a sharp, short sigh that might have been at least partly a hiss, Janus pushed the heavy door open. The neglected hinges creaked.

Beams of cold light from the hall flooded through the gap of the opening doorway, making visible a thin segment of the abandoned room.

It was unmarred by dirt, slime, blood, or any other disgusting substance, thankfully. Janus had to give credit to Remus. As non-existent as that side’s impulse control was, he had managed to spare this single room from his various antics and pranks at Janus’ sincere request.

The room was entirely unchanged from how it had been left years ago. Small, dotted stains on the walls showed where blu-tac used to hold up punk band posters. Splotches of black on the carpet by the old dresser showed where liquid eyeliner was spilt too many times. Black cotton bedsheets (which now appeared grey with their faint layer of dust) were pulled taut over the mattress where they had only ever used to be in constant, rumpled disarray at a certain someone’s stubborn refusal to make the bed.

Janus gripped the doorframe tightly, clenching his jaw against his growing feeling of unease.

Being a “Dark Side” came with an appreciation of all things, well, dark. True crime stories were common conversation material at dinner, movie nights featured more than anyone’s fair share of fake blood (not always on screen, mind you; Remus had to have some fun once in a while, after all), and family bonding time consisted of debates on the darkest secrets of society and an abundance of teasing of each others’ insecurities and fears - all in good fun, of course. (Though, when Virgil had finally left for good that fateful day with tears streaming down his cheeks, Janus had been forced to reconsider what “good fun” really meant to them.)

As it was, Janus was accustomed to seeing and hearing things meant to turn stomachs, race hearts, and scramble minds. He shrugged at the majority of them and scoffed at the rest. But gazing upon this empty room - the physical embodiment of his failure as a parental figure - was the closest he thought he could truly be to feeling horrified.

Janus’ insides twisted and pulled so much every time his eyes wandered over the sealed doorway, that he had seriously considered asking that Remus follow through on his threats to disembowel him and relieve him of his agony.

Bile had not yet risen in his throat, so Janus considered today to be a good one to bring himself to peek at the old bedside table - or rather what lay upon it.

Once cluttered with makeup products, tangled headphones, and herbal anxiety remedies, the surface now lay mostly bare. Save for a single soft toy slumped across it limply.

The blue stuffed rabbit was a ghastly thing. It was missing an eye, one of its limbs was stretched far longer than the others (probably as a result of its owner’s nervous tugging which was otherwise directed onto his hoodie sleeves), and one of its ears was half-chewed to tatters (another nervous habit of its owner, no doubt). Despite its ratty appearance, the thing was harmless. Such an unassuming object, so innocent.

And yet it brought tears to Janus’ eyes.

He had never even learned the name of the damned thing and wasn’t it utterly ridiculous that Janus, the unofficial leader of the “Dark Sides”, was blubbering over a made-up name for an inanimate object?

It had not mattered to him before. It had made no difference to him what Virgil had named it or how much he had cared about it. Janus had metaphorically and mercilessly turned the thing into a weapon that day. With his careless tongue, he had twisted its existence from an item of comfort and attachment into a source of ridicule and hurt. It was no wonder Virgil had left it behind. It had been tainted.

Janus winced at a sudden sting in his lower lip. He had bitten into it again. One would have thought having fangs would convince someone to be more careful of such a habit.

Delicately dabbing at a drop of cool blood at the corner of his mouth, Janus sighed shakily. That was quite enough emotional torment for one evening.

He released the old bedroom door and let it fall shut. It had barely thudded against the doorframe when that grating, obnoxious sound trilled from the bane of Janus’ existence.

‘What’s up, Jannothy?’

‘Remus,’ Janus greeted with an exaggerated eye roll. It was only partly to rid his eyes of their wetness. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’ Yellow tinted his left eye.

The distinctive scent of burnt paper met his nose. With a jolt of dread, Janus turned to see Remus half-caked in soot. He just about managed to contain a scream. It would have only invited one of Remus’ much-loved screeching competitions.

‘I see you’ve been in the library,’ Janus sighed. ‘Tell me, just how many of my books were charred beyond repair this time?’

Remus blew his cheeks out in a massive exhale, looking up to the ceiling in thought. As the warm breath wafted over his face, Janus was careful to breathe through his mouth.

‘Oh, only about half of them,’ Remus sang then cackled joyously for a short while. ‘But you’ll be glad to hear I sculpted the ashes into the shape of a nine-foot-long decapitated aardvark!’

Janus shut his eyes, shaking his head lightly. He hadn’t the energy to pander to Remus’ whims of fancy. ‘Good night, Remus.’

He silently slipped past the other side in the direction of his room.

‘But it’s only seven!’

‘I’m half cat.’ Yellow again.

‘Jan - wait,’ Remus called behind him, and the incongruous hesitance in his voice gave Janus pause.

He twisted his body back, surprised by the incredibly rare sincerity in the furrow of Remus’ brow.

‘All right. You have my undivided attention,’ Janus drawled, making a point to hold up his hand and inspect his nails thoroughly. He smirked at the yellow tint of his vision.

‘You seem bummed out,’ Remus whined, ‘and the role for resident bum is filled out by me already.’

Janus rolled his eyes again. At this rate, he would get vertigo.

‘So, are you, y’know… okay?’ Remus asked quietly. (Really, what an oxymoron that was.)

Something hard and hot clogged Janus’ throat and he swallowed thickly around it. He dropped his hand and swiftly looked up to meet Remus’ eyes.

‘Yes,’ Janus said in an entirely even tone, ‘I am perfectly fine. Now, if you will excuse me.’

He spun away and marched down the narrow hallway, keeping his gait steady. It was quite a feat, considering the fact he was half-blinded by a bright yellow glare.

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

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#little/big series #little/big series fics #little accidents big developments

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eirist · 4 years

Text

A Taste of Summer II

SAFE HAVEN

One-shot #: 3

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Teasing still)

Note: A super, duper late entry for ZoNami Week 2020 @zonamievents. Day 3: Water Gun Battle. I hope you don’t mind if I still tag you in these works even if it’s waaaay past the deadline.

I wanted to finish all the prompts in time but work has been hectic lately. I already have the draft for the 4th one and the plot for the 5th. All I’m missing is enough time to actually write it.

Summary: Then a sudden realization hit her as they stared at each other in their temporarily safe haven.

Nami squealed as she ducked back down the table-turned-makeshift shield, wincing when another splash of water hit it; exploding into tiny, hundred droplets all around them.

Her shoulder banged lightly against her companion.

"Oi watch it." Zoro complained when she collided against him.

“Shut up!” Nami hissed at him. “This is all your fault!”

Zoro stared at her disbelievingly. “Me?” He growled at the orange-haired navigator. “How this is my fault? Aren’t you the one who grabbed a water gun first so you can splash Luffy on the face?”

She spun her body towards him abruptly. “I have to get back at him somehow! And what did you do huh?!”

“I got us something to prevent them from hitting us, witch!” He pointed at the table, lying sideways on the deck where they are currently crammed together.

“This is a stupid game.”

“Then why did you even grabbed a water gun in the first place?”

Nami glared at him. And Zoro glared back at her as well.

She aimed said water gun at his face and squeezed the trigger.

“Pwaah! Damn it Nami!”

She grinned evilly. “Quiet now Zoro,” she shushed him and tried to peek from behind their cover. Usopp and Luffy where on the other side of the deck waiting with water guns loaded, hiding behind another toppled table just like them…. much to Sanji’s chagrin.

They were supposed to have a nice lunch on the deck. Sanji was bringing the tables out when Luffy water-gunned him as well, straight in the face… just right after the idiot targeted Zoro and Nami.

There was a lot swearing and vicious threats then table throwing from the cook as the other Mugiwaras started to gather in the lawn deck.

And just like that it turned into chaos almost immediately. Especially when Franky—with a big smile and all—deposited a bunch of water guns on the lawn deck… right after Usopp’s big announcement.

Almost immediately everyone grabbed one. Actually, Nami grabbed two; blasting water on Luffy’s face in retaliation before throwing the other gun at Zoro while shouting ‘take cover’.

And for the life of him, Zoro didn’t even know why in the world did he followed her order.

He found himself catching the water gun and making a fast grab for the overturned table to use it for cover.

That’s how they ended up compressed together behind it with water guns in hand, on the other side of the deck and peeking to see if the enemy team is in range.

A splash of water hit their improvised refuge making Nami squeak in surprise. The sudden jolt of her body made her bump into Zoro again.

“Watch it!” It was his turn to hiss at her as he nudged her back, miscalculating his strength and sending the map maker out of their safe haven.

“Zoro!” Nami screeched as she tumbled slightly forward…

… just right in the line of Usopp and Luffy’s water gun range.

“Target’s out!” Usopp’s voice rang across the deck, aiming the water gun on her. “Shoot!”

Nami’s eyes widened. Oh crap!

She yelped when she was suddenly tugged—no, more like lifted—back into safety before any of the water can hit her.

“Phew. That was close,” Zoro muttered over the top of her head.

Nami elbowed him sharply on the ribs. “This time it really is your fault!”

“Hey! Ouch!”

The arm wrapped around her waist loosened and she immediately realized that she was practically resting against Zoro and was situated on the space between his legs.

Nami felt the air sizzled a bit.

She sharply twisted her body so she was facing him and ignored the way her heart leapt a lit-tle when he did not removed his arm.

Instead of being irritated what she did, Zoro was grinning wickedly. “Thanks, we needed bait.”

“WHAT?!”

“Managed to hit Usopp, our idiot captain,” he bragged. “And Brook.”

“Why you…!” Nami took the opportunity of being close to him to water gun him on the face again.

“Shit! Nami stopped doing that!” Zoro barked, reaching out to wipe his face with his free hand.

The one that was still wrapped around her.

In doing so, she was literally pressed closer to him.

Damn it! Why does it feel sooo good?!

And it is not helping that they are both wet… and he’s top naked.

“Temee… you’re supposed to be aiming at our opponents,” the swordsman groused as he continued rubbing his face. Hell… some of the water entered his nose.

That seemed to snap her out of her momentary trance.

Nami tilted her head to look at him. “Serves you right,” she meant for it to come out snootily; not in a whispered, almost intimate way like she was going to affectionately nip him on jaw.

Why was it so close?!

Why was he so close?! Damn it all!

The sizzle in the air earlier was now sending delicious shivers on her skin as she felt her body slowly heating up.

She pulled away from him before she cannot stop herself and do something she wanted to do to him all along.

And in front of all their nakama too.

Sanji was shouting from somewhere in the deck. “Why are you targeting Nami-swan? Don’t make me kick your asses to kingdom to come you hear m—warck!”

“Aww! Nice hit Usopp!” Luffy cheered.

“Damn you shitty sniper!”

“Oi! Diable jambe’s not allowed!” Usopp screeched as the sound of Luffy’s laughter and a table breaking in half filled the air.

Nami crawled on all fours towards the side of the table to check what was happening. “Idiots,” she muttered, when she saw the racket on the deck.

Chopper ran past their improvised shield, screaming for Luffy—who was running after him—to stop spraying him. Sanji was threatening to skin Usopp alive with his kitchen knives if he ever tries to shoot her again.

Brook was chasing their captain, while Robin was calmly sitting on a deck chair, strategically situated on the terrace in front of their bedroom with a book.

Nami frowned. The archaeologist had refrained from joining the fray… but she saw her grabbed one of the water guns earlier. Why wasn’t she…?

Oh fuck! She has that small, secret smile on lips. Robin was just waiting for the right time to use her powers to add her own share to the current madness.

If she was right… then they are all damn going to get really wet.

She wiggled a little to slink back to their hiding spot.

There was a choking sound from behind her and her brows furrowed as she sharply swiveled her head towards Zoro.

He was peering on the other side of the table.

The hell was that? She went back to sneak a quick look at the deck again, checking to see if there was an opportunity to bombard those idiots with water.

This time, it was Luffy and Brook who was running away from Chopper, who was now in his heavy point and holding two water guns, spraying the two devil fruit users. On the other side Usopp was still running away from Sanji while blasting him with water hoping to make him stop.

Good. They are not paying any attention to them.

“Zoro now!” She uttered, nudging him with her foot. He responded an affirmative by slapping it lightly, irritably. “They are all defenseless!”

“I know!”

They simultaneously shoot out of the table, aiming at their friends and water gunning them mercilessly.

Shouts of protests filled the air as they hit every single one of them.

“Nami!”

“Nami-swaaan! Idiot marimo!”

“Yohohoho!”

“Ack! Zoro and Nami are hitting me!”

“Down, down.” Zoro urged her as Luffy ballooned up after swallowing most of the water aimed at him.

Nami obeyed, ducking back into the table just as Luffy expelled it towards them, much to the trepidation of everyone.

This time the shouts that rang out across the deck were mostly out of disgust.

“That is just gross Luffy!” Nami screamed as the water from their captain’s mouth splattered along their shelter. She turned to Zoro, who also crouched beside her. “Remind me to punch him later once this is over!”

“Gladly.”

Luffy was laughing so hard at his antic as Chopper gushed in amazement at his captain’s ‘amazing’ ability.

“Aho!” Sanji roared as he kicked the rubber man’s head. Luffy just continued laughing as his head ricocheted at the impact.

Usopp’s mouth was hanging open as he stared at the table where Zoro and Nami were hiding.

Damn, it was a good thing he wasn’t on the other end. That was really kinda nasty.

Suddenly an arm sprouted just on the side of Usopp’s body and the water gun was promptly slapped away from his grasp.

“Hey!”

The others followed his exclamation as one by one the water guns was smacked away from them.

In the span of a few seconds, the water guns were all in the clutches of disembodied hands growing on the white railing where their archaeologist was currently reading.

“Robin!” Luffy shouted.

“Uh-oh…” Usopp intoned. They were now gun-less and defenseless.

Robin peered from the top of her book, sliding her sunglasses up before giving them a smile.

The water guns simultaneously fired, drenching all the Mugiwaras on the deck, all except Zoro and Nami, who are still safe in their hiding place.

“Robiiiiin!” Chopper cried running all over the lawn deck to escape the water.

“Not fair!” Usopp hollered. “Are you even in the game? You have no partner!”

“Robin-chwaa—glurrrg!” Sanji swallowed a mouthful of water as it hit him directly in the face.

“Run minna run!!!” Luffy’s shouted, laughing enthusiastically as he darted back and forth the deck.

Nami and Zoro carefully peered from their respective spots.

“Robin,” the swordsman muttered, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he retreated back into their sanctuary.

“I knew it! I thought she wasn’t in the game!” Nami cried out as she drew back as well to look at the green-haired man. “Who is she teamed up with?”

“Franky?”

Nami’s eyes widened. “Franky isn’t anywhere in the deck. Do you think…?”

Zoro shrugged.

“Oooh those two probably have something up their sleeves!” Nami dropped on all fours to peek again at the side of the table. “Sneaky Robin.”

Zoro glanced sideways at her and promptly blushed.

That is a very fine and nicely shaped ass.

He instantly glanced away and closed his eye.

Why in the world did she have to bend over like that, right beside him, while wearing only a skimpy bikini bottom?

Wasn’t seeing her in the lake top naked enough?

Now even his eye is drinking in the sight of down below.

He stole a glimpse at her again; just in time to see her butt wiggling as she tried to adjust her position.

Zoro fought back a groan.

She’s making this hard. Really. Hard.

He already managed to control the unrelenting urge to kiss her. But he honestly didn’t know until when.

Not when Nami seems to be aware that he wanted to and was giving him every opportunity to do it.

Why is her cute butt still wiggling? It makes him want to touch it…

…rip off that tiny piece of cloth covering it and just get down and dirty with her.

Drat. It already escalated into another level. Maybe he should point the water gun towards himself and spray his face.

Nami suddenly shrieked, backing up against him when water exploded just right above their table. “Robin is in for the kill.”

Zoro snorted. “Expected nothing less from her.”

Their shoulders bumped into each other as they settled back on their hiding place, listening to the sounds of their friends getting water massacred by the raven-haired historian.

“Let’s stay quiet so as not to attraction her attention.”

Zoro rolled his eyes at her logic. Robin already knew that they are behind the table and is probably taking her time before swooping in for the kill.

“You are wearing my shirt.” Zoro suddenly said.

“What?!” Nami’s head whipped towards him in surprise.

“I said you’re wearing my shirt.” He repeated. He noticed it earlier when she walked out of the room she shared with Robin and nearly tripped on his workout equipment. He marveled at how it was turning him on, seeing her wearing something that belongs to him.

“I didn’t know it was yours.” Nami huffed. “It was in our clothes pile.”

“Hnnn…”

“What? You’ve got a problem with me wearing it?”

He didn’t answer and just regarded her in a way that made her raise an eyebrow.

And made her skin prickle all over again as the urge to taste his lips resurfaced.

She gazed back at him, studying his face and his expression, trying to guess what is going on inside his mind and what his next move will be.

Then a sudden realization hit her as they stared at each other in their temporarily safe haven.

She pointed the water gun at him again and pulled the trigger.

“Damn it Nami!” Zoro snarled as he snapped out of his daze and instantly retaliated.

The water hit her face and she ended up sputtering as she wiped it off with her hand.

“How’d you like that?” Zoro asked. He had a totally nasty grin on his face. “Not fun right?”

“Oh. You want to play huh?” Nami glowered at him. She pointed the toy gun on his face and squeezed the trigger…

…and it promptly dropped from her hold when one of Robin’s hands appeared suddenly from the table to smack it away.

“Robin?!”

“Hey!” She heard Zoro protested as well when Robin did the same to him.

As if on cue, the table covering them was pushed down as well, leaving them open for Robin’s water gun attack.

“Oh no!” Nami gasped.

Zoro was automatically on his feet, scooping Nami on the waist and tucking her under his arm before making a dash for the other side of the deck.

Robin was relentless; shooting them with water continuously. It wasn’t helping as well that Usopp and Brook was able to get the cleaning hose working and aimed it at everyone on the deck soaking them to the bone… skull joke.

Nami squealing and giggling as Zoro tried to evade the attacks while carrying her at the same time. It was stupid yet fun and exciting. Amidst everything she can hear every Straw Hat laughing and cackling, with Luffy being the loudest.

Zoro hoisted her up a bit, still dodging the water shooting at them. He had a wide grin on his face, meaning he was enjoying this as well. Sanji was screaming from somewhere at him to drop her down and not to handle her like he was just hauling a sack of potatoes.

“Left Zoro left!” Nami shouted and laughed when he turned towards the complete opposite direction that she was yelling. Water hit one of her legs.

Zoro skidded into a halt when he saw Franky suddenly appeared out on the deck… with an almost triumphant grin on his face.

“Aaaw…” the shipwright shouted. “Time to unveil this supeeeer weapon!”

“Uh-oh…” Usopp whispered.

“Franky water cannon!” He announced dramatically as the cannons on his shoulder emerged.

Everyone stilled at that. Water guns are one thing.

Water cannons are another.

“Oh my gosh!!!” Usopp shouted. “It’s awesome!

“Yet I don’t wanna get hit!!!” Chopper wailed.

“Run for cover! Run for your lives!”

“Sugoiiiiii!!!” Luffy yelled, pumping his fists into the air, eyes turning into stars from being too impressed.

“Yohohoho! I guess it is safe to say that Robin-san and Franky-san will win this game.” Brook stated calmly, accepting defeat as he watched his younger friends scamper everywhere to avoid getting hit.

“First up,” Franky lifted his sunglasses, winking at the swordsman and the navigator who were standing near him. “Zoro, Nami.”

Nami perked up at that. “Zoro! Get away! Get away!”

“I know woman quit yelling!”

Robin continued blasting them with the water guns she grabbed from everyone earlier.

“Where are you taking Nami-san aho kenshin?!” Sanji exploded as he watched the idiot marimo sprint back to the other end of the deck with Nami still tucked under his arm.

“FRANKY WATER CANNON!”

“Kyaaaaah!!!” Usopp and Chopper cried out as they jumped out of the way.

Zoro hopped on the railing.

Nami’s eyes widened when she realized what he was planning.

“Zoro don’t you dare!”

The wicked, shark-like grin on his face made Nami’s heart leap to her throat.

No!

“Heads up Nami.”

And with that he made a jump towards the ocean with her still tucked on his arm.

“Nooo!” She screamed as they plunge down towards the cool, blue water. “I will kill you Zoroooo!”

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shots #zoro nami fanfiction #zonamiweek2020 #zonamieventstumblr #zonamievents #swordgust

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Friday 16 May 1834

7 5/..

12 ½

Fine – ready in an hour F57° at 8 5 - reading till 9 ½ from page 25 to 76, volume 24 British prose writers to the end of Horace Walpole’s Reminiscences. Letter from Mr Scotts’ book-keeper ‘GW. Ellis, 3 Dove street, near the Nunnery York’ to say Joseph had brought away his livery hardly worn at all and to beg me to desire him to send it back again - the poor lad brought it away in ignorance, never dreaming, as nobody said anything to him about it, that he ought to have given it back. Letter 3 pages from M- (Lawton) dated Thursday 8th inst and lastly last Tuesday night 13th instant – hoped to have heard from me – disappointed tho saying she had now no right to be so - and indeed ought not as she had neither asked me to write to her at Lawton, nor had I promised to do so - they arrived at Lawton on Tuesday 6th inst and were to leave there on Wednesday the 14th - writes to ask me to pay the ‘new servant James for a greatcoat Thomas had bought of him’- Found her scholars more stupid than formerly dined at Rode nothing interested her ‘Mary is not what she was or the same things would produce the same pleasures but it matters not’ ‘Time will do its best and worst, and after all is the short span of life worth a thought? A few short years and all is over and mine neither have given nor promise sufficient of comfort to induce a wish that they might be prolonged no one knows not, even you dearest Fred, what I have gone thro’ and at this moment I feel as little caring for the future of this world as if 24 hours would close my existence perhaps I should be thankful to know its duration was so limited – you, at least, I trust will be happy for you deserve to be so, and earnestly do I pray that it may be so’. And that those you love best may secure to you all the comfort necessary to your wishes for the present adieu then writes the more than half page of conclusion on Tuesday night Poor Mary how she has always marred her own happiness but how was it when I was so low two years ago she shewed no great pity for me. Breakfast in 20 minutes at 9 ½ wrote the above of today till 10 20 - some time out with Pickles and the rest -P- finished re-levelling the ground in front of the house before 12 and was at the railing in the afternoon with his 2 men. Had Joseph up twice for a good while about correcting his letter to Mr Ellis respecting the livery - had ½ hour’s nap. Wrote 3 pages and ends to M- as follows ‘Shibden Hall, Friday 16th May 1834. I have in this moment, my dearest Mary, received your letter dated lastly the 13th (Tuesday last) – three days from Lawton! These shews me, that my letter written on Sunday, and sent on Monday (the 12th) would reach Lawton a few hours after you were off. Surely it would be sent after you immediately and surely you have reached it ere this. Mary! I am very very sorry my pages were not with you at Lawton! - but they will convince you, you were not out of my thoughts, are not and are not likely to be – the more, my dearest Mary, I reflect upon the past, the more I am confounded at the appalling inconsistency of your conduct - that you should grieve so deeply over its consequences, is a heavy misfortune to us both. But this I can truly say, that whatever you may ‘have gone thro’ I can’t earnestly believe it to exceed the misery, the ruthless desolation of heart that fell upon myself – to me it was more sudden than the lightness glare - you had long warning – the storm came not but at your bidding, and from your own breast, sprang up the rock on which the hope of 20 years was wrecked. In pity and in common justice, remember this. Think too, that you can never have had one feeling of wounded pride to add its sting to all the rest. It was your own hand drew the card that sped the deadly shaft hope to the heart that had no shield but its affection Mary! Your aim did seem so coolly, so deliberately taken, the arrow scarce could miss her way. But no more - my regard is still perhaps worth having, and it will not be my fault if it does not serve you faithfully. For my sake, at least, take my advice this once more. Cheer up - rally round you those hopes that are scatted, rather than destroyed – let not your spirit turn coward but gather together your resources, calculate them fairly, manage them well – remember that you have a tried and steady friend who will help you to the uttermost, and, trust me, you have no need to despair of happiness even in this world. Despair is always a false calculation we can’t tell the good that may be in store for us and when our horizon seems lowest who knows that the brightest gleams of our existence are not at hand? Mary! I will do anything in the world I can for you - and surely it is my power to be a greater comfort to you than I can possibly have been, ever since the first moment when your mind became unsettled enough to entertain the 1st embryo thought of the now as it appears, strange resolve you came to, 2 years ago. But perhaps after all you were more right than you now believe. If all your tastes were indeed so changed as you told me, while mine as I honestly avowed, remained so nearly the same, how would it have answered to be still entirely dependent on each other? For you must not forget that, as the circumstance, which seems more particularly to tell you the secret of your own heart, would not then have occurred , you might still have been ignorant of it as ever, and I should not have had the strong advantage of being valued as at present. Mary! Is not this reasonable? You find travelling insupportable - you had other interest dearer than mine - you could not bear to leave Lawton - you even made a point of my promising to settle near there - and you, above all people, knew how I was situated towards my own place, where my family had lived between 2 and 3 centuries, I being the 15th possessor of my family and name. Mary! The spirit of my uncle started up before me and had my life been the sacrifice, idolatry must have yielded to honour. Mary! My dearest Mary, you thought of me too lowly then, as you think of me too highly now. Reflect upon these things - you will be happier by and by - you will trust my friendship regard implicitly and this will not be the least of the comforts that I firmly hope will attend us both – ask me to write, or to do anything. I do not feel as if I should ever disappoint you much - I have no feeling towards you but of affectionate regard and my greatest anxiety is for your welfare. But cheer up, Mary! Be comforted, my dearest Mary, if it be but for my sake. How my pen still lingers on this engrossing subject. I must answer the purport of your letter. James Clayton is no longer my servant - he came to me on the 24th ult. refused to wear Thomas’s livery - on the 26th and left me on the 28th sorry probably for his folly and not calculating that I should not retract the warning given at the moment. Mrs Williamson, Register Office for servants, Colliergate

SH:7/ML/E/17/0034

(I think it is) York, is the only person I know of likely to know anything about the man. You will see from my last, as far as I can tell at present, what I am going to be about - I shall probably be in York by 12 on Tuesday and off in an hour towards Richmond. In my aunt’s present state of health, I cannot be absent more than a week, I do not expect her surviving another winter - my father’s life, too, is very precarious, he had a very slight paralytic affection , more particularly in the left arm, 3 or 4 days ago - Marian’s attention to him is quite exemplary. Her feelings towards me seem altogether changed into what is most comfortable. God bless you my dearest Mary! You can’t possible doubt my regard and how much I am always very especially yours. A. Lister’ Writing out this letter has taken me from 3 25 to 4 10 = 1 ¼ hour. What will π- think of it I see three tears had fallen on her paper What a goose she has been surely she never thought of losing she played upon me too much the history of our acquaintance may be summed in accepted refused accepted married offended refused repented. Reading over my letter and dawdling till out at 4 ½ - with Marian in the garden - with Mallinson etc - dinner at 6 ½ then coffee and Marian was with me till after 8 - then sent off my letter to ‘Mrs Lawton, Claremont house, Leamington, Warwickshire’ and Joseph took to the post his letter to Mrs Ellis to say he should have the livery hat and all on Tuesday - from 8 ½ to 9 ½ in the fields looking at the new railing - 18 posts and railing there to belonging set this afternoon - and all would be finished tomorrow if we had the posts but we shall not have enough by 8 - 2 plasterers came this morning from Shaw’s, and cleared away the dirt and plaster ready for pointing west side of the house - talking to Marian till 10 1/4 . Is Northgate, or will it be, sold or not – tonight at 7 the sale was to being – I have not thought much about it even this evening and not all during day. My day was spent over my letter and my eyes stiffish with the tears that fell or stood big in my eyes This weakness is too foolish - 10 minutes with my aunt and came to my study at 10 25 and wrote the last 10 lines - raining fast - seemed to begin a few minutes ago - fine day tho’ dullish - very good for growing - my father does not like the idea of flower-beds, so the ground before the front window is to be all sown down with grass and clover - till 11 ½ read from page 79 to 99 Horace Walpole’s letters British prose writers vol. 24.

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marvinhasadhd · 4 years

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Okay, so I got my prescription about two weeks ago and since then I have already tried Ritalin a few times.

I started with half a pill (so 5mg) and didn’t feel anything. My doctor advised me to do my next attempt on the next day, but I am chronically bad at listening to medical professionals, so I tried a whole pill (or 10mg) on the afternoon of the same day I tried the first one.

I decided to take it, because our work had been cancelled (I currently work as a security at events which are hosted by our city) and so someone had to wait until the security who worked the night shift arrived. I really need the money, so I volunteered to sit around for a few hours and I decided to take the full pill and try reading for a bit, as thats something where I often struggle with being inattentive and getting distracted by just about everything.

And it kinda helped. I just sat down and read for over an hour without looking at my phone or getting distracted in any other way. I used to read a lot as a child, but since the age of 12-13 I slowly stopped reading as much because I could rarely ever focus on the book for longer times, so reading became a bit frustrating, as I now took days, weeks or sometimes even months to finish books which would have taken me hours when I was younger (one of my biggest achievements as a child was that I finished the whole HarryPotter-Series in just one weekend).

So yeah, that was a nice experience. I tried it again two days later, as I wanted to try studying for university, but this time I tried 1,5 pills (so 15mg) and I didn’t feel much difference to the 10mg. I still couldn’t quite focus on the stuff I had to learn and I kept getting distracted by things around me, especially by the clutter on my desk. I really felt the need to do something about that and so I cleaned my desk. And once my desk was finally free of everything that didn‘t belong there, I cleaned the floor, the kitchen, the bathroom, I did my laundry and I collected all the cat toys and also cleaned all the places my cats like to hang out in of their hair. Once that was done, I tried to learn again and I noticed that I could focus a bit better, but most importantly I noticed that I just managed to keep my focus on doing a cleaning of the whole flat without making any breaks to watch youtube or check twitter or anything. I didn’t even think about my phone, while I did all that. That was kinda crazy, as just about everyone who knows me would describe me as a perfect example of a smartphone-addicted person.

The next day, I tried to learn again and I took two whole pills (aka 20mg or the maximum dosis my doctor allowed me to do before I visit her again) and I noticed that while I could actually focus better, I would also focus very strongly on anything that distracted me. I found one of my cats toys (a self-made mouse) had been ripped and while I was already trying to focus on learning, I just had to get my sewing kit and repair the mouse before I could even think about anything else. So my focus became much better, but also I would focus very strongly on any possible distraction.

The next day my girlfriend arrived and so I didn‘t take Ritalin for a few days, as I know that she isnt too big of a fan of it (that one Netflix-documentary apparently made Ritalin seem like its pure crystal meth) and also I think I shouldn’t need stimulants to be able to focus on my girlfriend. I love her and I always try to give her my fullest attention, so I let the pills in my medicine-cabinet.

Once she was gone again (she has a summer-job in another state, so we only see each other for a few days each week), I tried studying again and so I took two pills in the morning, cleaned my whole learning environment before the effects kicked in and then I actually was able to focus nicely on cell-biology. And ya know, what can I say about that except „The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell“?

Later that day, when the effects already had worn off, I noticed that I also experienced the so-called rebound effect (=symptoms being a bit stronger than usual once the effects of the medication wore off), but as I wanted to continue studying, I decided to take two more pills. So I went to the bathroom, took one, noticed that I had to clean the cat-toilet, cleaned it, forgot that I had already taken one and took two. So I was at 3 whole pills or 30mg of Methylphenidate, which was 1,5 times the maximum dose my doctor told me to take. And then I remembered that I had made plans with a friend to come over and catch up, as we hadn’t seen each other since the whole pandemic started.

So yeah, once he arrived two hours after my accidental intake of 3 pills, I was really focused on what he said and I must say, I felt a mental clarity I usually never felt in normal situations. I also felt a bit more energetic than usual and I experienced the suppressed appetite (which apparently is a rather common side-effect) much stronger than I did with lower doses. Besides that my head felt very warm and I noticed that my pulse was much stronger, so I put on my old smart-watch, just so I could regularly check my pulse (it was constantly over 90, when my usual average it between 60 and 70). Also I told him about my medication and the dosage I had taken, so if I experienced anything bad (the high pulse made me a bit anxious about that) he could inform a doctor. But yeah, nothing bad happened and for two hours we just talked about a lot of things and I just really listened to what he said, which was nice, as I‘m someone who often gets lost in thought while people talk to me, and being able to focus on what he said without getting distracted made me feel like I managed to be a better friend than I‘m usually am.

But nothing lasts forever and so once the effects wore off (took about 4,5 hours) I really couldn’t focus on stuff and I really felt the effects come back much stronger than they usually are. Luckily he is a pretty understanding dude, so he suggested that we just cook until I felt a bit better, which was quite nice, as my appetite also came back and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything that day. So we cooked and just played with the cats until I felt a bit better. I noticed that playing with the cats made me quite a bit calmer - maybe it’s the dopamine-boost my tiny fluffy boys give me, or maybe I just overinterpret something. Idk.

(Short break. I know, this post is already pretty long and as it’s about ADHD, I assume that some people reading this also have it. If you managed to read this that far, I‘m really amazed and I really thank you for your attention. Also I made this another text-style, so if you want to take a short break, you could find this spot easier. If you have any tips on how to write so that it’s more suitable for ADHDers to read, please feel free to send me a message, as I would really like it, if I could improve my writing so that my posts are easier to read for other people. Also I promise that this post will be finished soon.)

Okay, so lets continue: once the friend was gone, I washed the dishes, cuddled the cats and went to sleep. Or at least I tried to do so. I just couldn’t fall asleep. It was really impossible for me to close my eyes without having my brain full of thoughts that would keep me awake. I tried to put in calming music, as that helped me to fall asleep back when I was in school, but that didn’t work. I tried to make myself a nice sleeping-environment by putting on nice sounds to pretend that I‘m on the Hogwarts express (I used ambient-mixer for that) and lit small fairy lights, but that also didn’t help. I tried to do a brain-dump and wrote down all the thoughts that kept me awake, but that also didn’t help much. I tried to read all these thoughts out to my cats and talk about all the feelings I had that were linked to the thoughts, but that also didn’t help. (Also the cats kinda decided to run around and play catch after I talked to them for a few minutes. I think they have about the same attention span as I do). At about 5:30 in the morning my girlfriend texted me because she just got up to go to work and I was still awake to answer her. So yeah, at about 6 in the morning I fell into a very light sleep and I can tell you, working a 7 hour shift after that wasn’t fun. So a nice advice of mine: don’t do a higher dose than your doctor allowed you at 6 in the afternoon. Or generally. Listen to your doctors, chances are they know what they are talking about.

And here’s finally the last experience I wanna write about: Today I woke up at 8 and decided that I will use my day productively to learn. So ensured that my desk and everything around it was nice and clean and then I took two pills. And guess what. Now it’s half past 10 and I spent the last 1,5 hours focusing really intensely on writing a tumblr-post about my experiences with Ritalin because I remembered that I wanted to write such a post and I couldn’t focus on anything else while I had this thought. So yeah. Overall I really like the effects it has on me, as I didn’t experience any bad side-effects by now and it really helps me focus, but now I also know that maybe I should make a check-list of things I want to have done before I take it, as these things could be mayor distractions down the line.

I hope these reports could be interesting or helpful to someone out there, but always remember: the experiences of different people can vary vastly, so always remember that such meds can have very different effects on you or people you know. Always consult a doctor or pharmacist if you have medical questions and always remember that taking meds or not doing so is both completely valid, as long as it fits for you.

If you made it this far, I really wanna thank you for taking the time and focus to read this and I hope you found it to be at least somewhat interesting. Feel free to text me if you want to talk about your own experiences, ask questions, give criticism on the way I write or just ask for pictures of my cats. I hope you have a really nice day and yeah. I‘ll post again once something post-worthy happens or a topic which I think to be deserving of a post comes to my mind.

#adhd #adhd story #adhd university #adhd stuff #adhd things #adhd inattentive #adhd meds #adult adhd #adhd problems #adhd post #ritalin #methylphenidate

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drowning-in-daiya · 4 years

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K so I’m absolutely Weak for William and there’s an insane lack of written content for him and the Black Clover fandom as a whole. So I’ve decided to grace the internet with my absolute shit writing for the first time in 5 years for some crap attempts at fluff. These were originally written with an OC (who has 20 whole pages of profile wow I need to stop) but I’ve made it into a reader insert the best I could. I kept the third person pronouns though just because I’m lazy and tired sorry I personally don’t enjoy reading that myself but again laziness wins. There are most definitely typos and I apologize in advance but I hope fellow fans enjoy these entirely self-indulgent piece! If anyone can even find this rip also tumblr formatting is a pain and i was in physical pain editing this

Note: (s/e/c) stands for secondary eye color. Sorry again if it doesn’t fit how you’re reading it :(

Another note: because this was based on an oc, there are some details (not many, like two I think) that are specific to her and don’t take into account different skin tones or eye color. Again I apologize for leaving them in, but I loved the flow the sentences and couldn’t really find a way that sounded just as good to me. If I ever write more, I’ll try to be more considerate with details like this.

(William x reader)

Fluff

Word count: 1,555

Warnings: None

Shoulder Pillow

A time before either realizes their feelings; or when (y/n) falls asleep on William’s shoulder (Takes place a few months into the two turning seventeen)

“William.”

“Yes, (y/n)?” He smiles slightly but doesn’t lift his eyes from the book in his hands. He knows that tone; slightly pitchy with the end syllable drawn out. His suspicion is confirmed when she throws her head back and sighs.

“I’m bored.” Keeping her head back she slants her eyes towards his figure, taking in his relaxed form, the way one hand is lightly gripping one edge of the book while the other cradles the spine. She notices the small smile on his face when her eyes flicker up and lightly huffs. His smile grows slightly when he finally looks up to see the pout curving her lips downward.

“Do you want to do something else?” he asks. Her eyes find his again; (e/c) with bits of (s/e/c) speckled at the bottom meeting bright purple. He notes how much darker they are now in the back of his mind, deciding he would ask later if everything is alright.

She’s torn and doesn’t answer for a minute. While reading is fun and William’s presence provides a warm comfort she hasn’t felt in some time, it’s getting hard to focus and she’s getting antsy. It doesn’t help that she’s running on about two hours of sleep won after a hard battle against her insomnia and nightmares. He follows his first question with another before she can land on an answer.

“Would you like me to read to you? I can start over if you want.”

Badump.

Ignoring the swell in her chest (because honestly she can’t spare enough energy to think about what that could mean) she nods and scoots closer on the couch to look on with him as he flips to the first page. His voice is even and more soothing than usual, and within minutes she feels her eyelids drooping.

When was the last time someone read to me like this? Maybe three- no… four years ago? Ahh his voice is so nice.

Her head dips forward slightly and she jerks back, widening her eyes and staring intently at the words. William spares a quick glance but keeps reading, another smile beginning to spread across his face when he feels her breaths start to even out again. He doesn’t expect to feel the weight of her head or smell the citrus scent of her shampoo a few minutes later and cuts off midsentence. A warm blush is already darkening his cheeks under the mask, so when he looks down and sees her relaxed face smooshed against his shoulder, mouth slightly open with light snores escaping, his heart skips several beats. He stares a few seconds more, memorizing the way her lashes cast shadows across her cheeks and the steady rise and fall of her chest, before going back to reading out loud.

He’s just reached page 20 when she wakes up, just slightly refreshed but with an odd ache in her neck. It takes a few seconds for her groggy mind to take in exactly what her face is pressing against, and a few more seconds to properly react. Apologies begin to pour out in a jumbled mess; her eyes are bouncing anywhere but his face (completely missing his grin), freezing only once she catches sight of the dark spot on his shoulder. Impossibly more heat rushes through her body as she begins apologizing for not only using his shoulder as a pillow but drooling on him on top of that.

He lets her carry on till she can find nothing else to beg forgiveness for; in the lull during which she tries to catch her breath, he places his hand on her head, ruffling her hair a bit before saying: “It’s fine. You were tired right?”

It takes a few seconds for the question to register, but she nods her head once it does and raises her eyes to his. She takes in the smile, heart skipping another beat (seriously what is wrong with me today??), relief washing through her that he’s not looking at her in disgust. They both sit like that seemingly frozen in that position for another five seconds before he takes his hand away. She can’t see it, but another blush is spreading across his cheeks at the realization that he held his hand there for too long trying to imitate her comforting habit. They continue to stare at each other awkwardly, neither knowing what to say now, until the clock in the common area rings out.

She stands abruptly, quickly spouting off an excuse that she’ll be late for a meeting with so-and-so and that she’d better head off now.

“I can read to you again whenever you’re tired, (y/n). I didn’t mind being your pillow for the afternoon,” he calls out when the door’s halfway closed behind her. It slams shut before she can respond, not that she could have with the way her mind and heart were racing at the unusual and rather brazen comment from her fellow knight.

Ahh seriously what is this?!?

When He Knew

Seeing William without his mask for the first time; or when William realizes he likes you (Two weeks after the shoulder pillow incident)

“He’s late.”

“Yeah, no shit genius. He’s probably on his way right now.” The other knight throws a glare before going back to staring out the window. The foot tapping grew old five seconds after he started, but now the attitude directed towards William is giving you a new reason to dread the two-day mission. It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t worried, though. In the three years you’d known him, William was never late, instead almost always showing up a few minutes early. This realization causes you to think of the worst possibilities, ignoring the more probable answer that he had overslept or gotten wrapped up in something else.

Dead. He’s definitely gotta be dead. Or maybe he caught something and is laying helpless in bed? Or did intruders somehow manage to sneak in and now he’s all tied up and- Taking a deep breath to calm down, you decide to give him another five minutes before heading over to check on him. A minute passes in silence and you’re pushing off the wall, mumbling incoherently something about going to fetch him. A tiny part of your brain is still somewhat rational and begs the other parts to slow down and think for a second.

But I am thinking and I think he’s got to be dead or near death since he’s more than twenty minutes late! You reach his room in record speed and hesitate for a second. Should I at least knock? If he’s dead he won’t hear it; but even if he’s alive he may be unable to answer back. A thud sounds from the other side of the door and your brain switches to automatic.

Eyes are already scanning for threats or a slumped body when the door slams open; instead of either, though, they catch sight of a frozen, maskless William staring back at you, half in horror, half in fright. It feels like hours tick by as you two stare at each other; You glance over every part of his face, vaguely taking in the scar that spans the top half, but more enthralled by all of the emotion you can see now. His eyes are even more enchanting fully visible (are they even brighter than before?? No no no... probably not…but maybe?); his nose that was already the cutest form of elegance you’ve ever seen fits perfectly with the rest of his face. And the hair it’s-

It’s only five seconds of intense staring as you try to memorize the pure beauty that is bare faced William before snapping out of it and offering your excuse. “I thought you were dead and came to check on you.” Straight faced, eyes locked on his, said with total seriousness.

He can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry, and if he does cry if it’ll be from embarrassment or joy. There’s no change in how you’re looking at him, the tone of voice you’re speaking to him in. Brutally honest (y/n) who never fails to let others know how you feel no matter how it might hurt the other person. The girl who told him his mask was tacky and he could do better upon their second meeting. The one who almost got into a fistfight with another knight that made an offhanded remark about the same mask. (y/n)! His heart is still racing for a completely different reason now. All the pieces are linking together and he knows. The stuttering heart, breathless laughs, warm and tingly feeling throughout his body; it all makes sense because some part of him knew all along. You’re rambling speaking again, red painting your cheeks (adorable he thinks), but he doesn’t hear any of it. He’s still staring when you finally stop; one heartbeat…two heartbeats…you turn on your heel on the third and shout out another apology (this one he hears) for the intrusion, and tell him to hurry up or you’d leave him behind. His body relaxes once the door closes and he stares at the mask in his hands. He briefly wonders what kind of expression you saw on his face, why you looked so flustered (it definitely wasn’t because she’s attracted to me that’s for sure), and most importantly, how he’ll act around you now that he knows he’s in love.

#black clover #black clover scenarios #william vangeance #black clover imagine #reader x william #black clover x reader #my writing

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