#i hate it here. being punished for not spending too much or borrowing money

[doqqy]

i hate being an adult like what do you mean i went into my overdraft and my credit score went up

#i hate it here. being punished for not spending too much or borrowing money #give me a mortgage stupid bank. kill yuorself #lilith.txt

[whump-town]

You Worry Me

Pairings: Emily & Hotch

Summary: college au things, Hotch checking himself into a mental hospital for the weekend

Warnings: child abuse, mental health struggles, abuse, suicide attempt, drugs, alcohol

When Emily asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with her she had expected far more hesitation than what she was met with. It’s not that she doesn't have other people to ask but when she really has to think about it he’s the only person she wants around like that. She’s content with his silence and his strange but enrapturing bouts of… oddness. She’s already thrown up in front of him (bad stomach flu she refused to admit was as bad as it was) and stood guard so he could pee behind a dumpster when they’d walked to the store at midnight for cigarettes and energy drinks.

She finds the courage to ask him on the front lawn of campus, stretched out on their backs ignoring their work and just photosynthesizing. Closing their eyes in silent enjoyment as spring tries to peek through winter's tight grip. When she turns to look at him the words just come tumbling out and she waits for his reaction. She’s not sure why she’s expecting anything other than that predictable crooked smirk but it still shocks her. He turns his head, lifting his arm to shield his eyes as he does so. Mostly, he just wants to know where he came in the line-up. How many people told her no before she came to him?

The honest answer is none but she smirks and tells him four and he laughs that deep goofy laugh that he does and she doesn’t know why she was nervous he’d say no. With a tired sigh, he nods and that’s all it takes-- they’re sharing an apartment.

He carries her clothes up to their floor, leaves her the pillows and her comforter for her to drag up. He’s exhausted by the time he’s got her things sitting on her bedroom floor but goes down to the beaten old pick-up truck his mother let him borrow to get his own things. Informs her with one of those long crooked fingers to worry with her own things and leave him to get his own. She resigns herself to listening but only because she’d seen his load and knew her help wouldn’t really quicken the whole six, small, boxes he has.

On his third trip she’s had enough and with a dramatic sigh she shakes her head and stands right in the doorway to his room. “No,” she says, crossing her arms. “No, I refuse to believe this. There’s no way you’ve read all these books.” She’s watched him carry three boxes of books into this apartment and not just boxes with things like thrown in he’s got them stacked to take up as little room as possible in these boxes. They’re heavy, he’s sweating and they keep coming.

With a sigh he leans down and sets the box currently in his arms down on the floor. “I read,” is his very complex answer. Aaron Hotchner has a way with words and she’s come to know that well. He shrugs, pushing at the hair slicked with sweat against his scalp. “I have read them… all of them.” Most of them more than once.

Books are the only thing he’s ever had. When he’d packed up for college all of the room had been taken up by these books. His clothes fit into one box but the books, he made room for the books. Every year, for as long as he can remember, his mother would buy him a book for his birthday. He got a job in town to have money to buy books to try and stifle his insatiable hunger (and his up-and-coming smoking habit).

She looks down at the box he’s just placed down, sighing when she sees that atop a pair of jeans there’s another book. Sherlock Holmes, she recognizes easily, and she shakes her head. “You know,” she steps out of his way and he heaves the box back up with a grunt. “My mother asked if I thought you’d kill me.” He falters mid-step but doesn’t stop. Carries the box to the others and sits it down heavily. He turns and finds her watching him with that quizzical, intuitive frown of hers. “You’re big but I think I could take you.”

He huffs at that, shaking his head and sliding past her so he can get his other boxes. She has no worries about him hurting her and strangely she hadn’t even considered that he might hurt her until her mother had mentioned it. Besides, she knows just enough to never truly worry. He’s the boy who vomits when he gets angry - if he shouts he’ll end up curled around the toilet shaking with a fever. He’d never hit a soul and if he did, she can only imagine the penance his body would conjure up as punishment.

But he huffs and she hears it.

She jumps on his back as he’s setting his box down on the ground. He moves just a little, stumbling under their combined weight. “Emily,” he warns, doing his best to not react. He knows how she is. She wants him to get rough, to hook his arm under her leg and yank her around. If he acts unbothered she’ll leave him alone. She’s far too much like having a little sibling around again - a sobering and, yet, comforting notion.

She does get bored and quickly. “I’m gonna go see Eric,” she informs him, slipping down off his back. He grunts and it’s just the wrong sound and she falters for a moment. Aaron’s met Eric and she’d thought they got along well but… she’s started to second guess that a little more every time she mentions either to the other. “I’ll be back this afternoon,” she adds apprehensively. Catches on to move the conversation on and away from the subject of her boyfriend but she still finds herself hovering by his doorway. Chewing her lip and anxiously asking, “do you mind if I bring Eric Wednesday?”

He just looks down at the box he’s sorting through, back turned to her. He shakes his head, sighing, “I don’t care what you do Emily.” He does care, deeply, but he looks back at her for only a brief moment. Sad brown eyes begging with her to not push, to not make him talk about this more.

With a nod, the conversation is over.

Wednesday night he smokes the pot that Derek passes to him without a second thought. It’s been burned down to the last few puffs, the heat from the lit end burns his fingers tips but he still puts it to his lips. Pulls from what little remains of the blunt as if it’s oxygen itself, a mask over his face meant to level him out. Maybe it will. The heat sinks down into his lungs and he ends up doubled over, spit drooling over his lips. Laughter bubbles up around him and a hand rubs at his back, Emily, he knows but only by the way that her perfume stings his nose he tries to breathe through the assault.

“Give it here before it burns out--”

Emily takes the blunt from his fingers and passes it to Eric. He’s an asshole and they all hate him but they love Emily and if they want her around then they have to deal with him. It’s safer to have him here, where they can watch him. He won’t dare hurt her in front of them -- but is that not what he’s doing when he leaves bruises across her face like constellations? Sends her back to them so that they can dab makeup over the Milky Way and breathe reassurances over Orian’s Belt when she falls into a hug.

Emily pulls him back upright, guides his head to lilt to the side as he sags against her. He can feel Eric’s fingers near his collar, the possessive hand he keeps on Emily at all times. A silent reminder of the power he holds over them all. Emily kisses his temple, oblivious to the mental war happening on both sides of her.

Derek reaches over and smacks his thigh, and encouraging little maneuver he means to comfort Aaron with. Aaron has checked out, arms too heavy to push away from all the touching. Can’t worm out of Emily’s arms or Derek’s comforting hand on his leg. He feels nothing past the tip of his nose. Not Emily’s bones underneath his cheek, her body carved down by Eric’s harmful comments about her weight and the coke he supplies like it’s a love language. Not Derek’s hold on him, the fear he can’t express but feels deep within his churning stomach, that Aaron’s slipping away and they’re all just bystanders to his eventual suicide.

Thursday night he’s woken up by Emily sneaking into his room, the soft click of a glass of water being sat down on his nightstand and the clatter of pills finding their way beside it. She presses her fist into his sternum, applying pressure where he feels like he’s coming unraveled. It’s like her hands are grasping his strayed ends, holding him together like a shredded kite until she can pull the fabric halves back together. “Okay,” she breathes, failing to provide him with steeled calm. His heart is beating so hard against her hand she’s afraid to let go. Her understanding of medicine is narrowed to just knowing you’re not supposed to put a bandaid on a burn. Kids can still have heart attacks, maybe not the over-worked, a little heavy-set dad kind caused by blocked arteries but he’s got the stress level and something certainly isn’t right.

He wakes up alone, doesn’t remember when she left or if she came at all. His only clue is those pills sitting in the perspiration of the now lukewarm water on his nightstand. He can’t move just yet, force his hand out to obtain the pills but he’ll wake up again in a pain-filled haze moved only by such intense pain that he fears sitting still another moment will rip him in half. The pills are slimy as they sit on his tongue and leave their bitter medicine laced into the gulp of water he manages. He’ll turn back over onto his side, pull his knees to his chest, and hope he doesn’t throw them back up.

He writes an essay in the haze of the Rizatriptan six hours later. His brain is only half-working, thoughts jumbled together or not there at all. The migraine lingers, fingers made of cotton muffling the world in a spirling nothing. It’s a similar feeling to being high, the haze is just too much but he has to write this paper because his professor won’t give him another extension -- he would if he knew Aaron needed one but he’s already asked once so he won’t do it again.

Friday the panic sets in.

Everyone is watching him.

Nobody likes him.

Why is he here?

Starfished out on a picnic blanket, Emily is spending her Friday out of the apartment. Armed with a water bottle filled with Vodka, a quilt, and a cooler full of popsicles they stumble their way through the unplowed field behind campus. Spencer hates the bugs and he holds tightly to Emily’s belt, making sure to step where she does as they trample through the too-high grass. Like broken dolls, they fall onto the quilt, familiar with one another enough not to care how they land in the tangle of limbs.

“Emily?”

She hums, not opening her eyes. The sun will remain stubbornly risen for a few more minutes and until it sets she’s trying to soak in every second of its warmth. Until it falls behind the trees and they’re bathed in the moonlight.

“Do you want a drink?”

She opens her hand, holding it up in the general direction of Derek’s voice. The water bottle finds her palm, slightly warm from sitting in the sun and in their laps as it makes its rounds. It feels oddly light but she doesn’t comment. The vodka stings down her throat but it’s familiar and it’s nearly as warm as the sun itself falling down her body.

“Where’s Hotch?”

She passes it to Penelope before laying back down, closing her eyes. “His psychiatrist put him on -” suddenly she can’t remember what it’s called. “Clom-something --”

Spencer looks up, understands this is a place for him to jump in. He feels overwhelmed with his excitement as he helpfully adds, “clomipramine! It’s a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, SSRI is the short-hand. It increases levels of serotonin in the brain.” He shifts himself, turning closer to them and away from where he’d been watching the blanket's edge for potential bugs trying to crawl near him. “It has the same side-effects as most SSRIs: drowsiness, intestinal upsets, decreased libido, changes in appetite--”

“Woah!” Derek sits up, suddenly paying attention. His eyebrows are scrunched together, alarmed. “He can’t… He won’t be able to like get it up?” He looks at Spencer and then at Emily. “That’s what libido means, man. How’s not being able to have sex going to help him not get all… gummed in the gears? Stuck in his head?” Aaron’s having a hard enough time, it hardly feels like ruining his sex life is the solution to that.

Spencer shakes his head, trying to understand how they’ve moved from facts about antidepressants to Hotch’s sex drive. “What?” If he took a second to think about it, he’d be blushing too hard to even bother with that statement. “No, the brain--”

“Spence,” Emily warns softly. Hotch might not be here to stop them from talking about his sex life but she is and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it’s none of their business. They’ve seen how bad things can get. “Hotch is basically a nun,” she reminds them. And it’s true. Before anyone diagnosed him, before he even knew something was wrong he wasn’t nearly as adventurous as her or Derek. “He didn’t come today because despite the--” she motions at Spencer.

“The clomipramine,” he supplies.

“Yes, the that, it doesn't work. He has a new psychiatrist, though, and he wants to run through some old stuff again.” She shakes her head, “a stronger dosage and a better plan. I don’t know, I guess we’ll know in another month. He’ll either end up in the hospital again or he’ll be fine.” She shrugs, “right now he’s locked himself in his room.”

There’s a low murmur of understanding and Spencer’s eyes go back to the edge of the blanket. They all remember what happened the last time he had to change medications. Emily had called JJ, the dead of the night making their intensely private and scary conversation seeping with the darkness’s own mixed intensities. Aaron had taken some bad drugs from a guy he didn’t even know, stumbled home, and passed out in his and Emily’s apartment bathroom. Where she found him seizing, choking on his vomit.

They didn’t and couldn’t see him for seventy-two hours, the mandatory hold from the hospital because they ruled it an attempted suicide and Aaron didn’t even try to put up a fight and say it was something else.

Friday night when she stumbles home he isn’t there.

His room is empty -- bedsheets are thrown back as if he left in a rush and his desk lamp still on. She feels that fear sink back into her, throat tight and mind racing, but the bathroom door is open, his pills still meticulously organized in the cabinet over the sink. Even his toothbrush is in the dish. So wherever he is, he won’t be gone long. She stills warns the others, asks them to look out for him or to, at the very least, expect his imminent arrival.

Derek offers to drive around and look for him.

Emily lets him do it, give him something to do -- he would have done it even if she told him it was unnecessary. She’s fairly certain she knows where he is.

Sure enough, she gets the call Monday morning at 7:30.

He does this every once in a while. As often as he can without them enforcing a longer hold, without it going on some sort of record that might prohibit getting a job. She doesn’t really understand why. He hates the mental hospital. Complains that it’s freezing cold and he hates the entire function and yet, here she is spending her Monday morning picking him up. This makes only about the fourth time since she’s known him but how many times has he just made the decision to walk? How many times hasn’t he called her to pick him up?

“You have got to stop walking here.” She rolls the window down first, shouting out at him as she pulls to a stop. He looks better than he had Friday morning when she invited him out to the field with the rest of them. She’d barely managed to get him to sit up, feeding pills between his pale lips, and then pulling his blanket back up over his shoulders. Shutting the blinds and leaving him a glass of water. Maybe she should have just offered to take him then, she’d known with hindsight this is where he would be.

He opens the backdoor without saying a word, crawls into the backseat, and curls up across the seats. He’s wearing a sweatshirt they must have given him, shoes not even on just held by the tips of his curled fingers. They land with a thud on the floor and all the response she gets is a pair of grippy socks landing on her passenger seat, the wordless thanks for picking him up… again.

“Class or home?” she asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Class.”

She did bring his bookbag with her, it’s sitting on the floor beside her own, but she will not be taking him to class. He recognizes that when she pulls out of the exit when she turns left instead of right. He grunts but doesn’t say anything, opting to curl further into himself. Protecting his head from an unseen threat.

The rest is practice. He’s foggy from the medicine they give him, always something different from what he’s taken. It’s meant to bring him down, strengthen his haze, and keep him calm. To shut his mind up -- and it’s good, it really does work. It just makes him so exhausted.

“Get your big butt--” Emily has to help him get into his bed and just as he’s about to apologize -- mouth hung open and his eyes squinting as he tries to force sluggish thoughts through a brain that hasn’t worked in days -- she climbs up after him.

His head hits the pillow and his mind goes blank, can’t even form the “I’m sorry” trying to trip its way out of his mouth.

Within seconds she’s laying down beside him, wiggling down under the covers and pulling them up over them. “Derek was pretty pissed you left again without telling us,” she whispers. It takes her a moment but she leans back up and pulls the blinds down, shuts the light from outside from coming in. Then she’s right back beside him, head on his chest. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Aaron. It’s-- It’s--” cruel.

Breathlessly he whispers, “sorry.” It’s all he can manage, drugs still heavy in his bloodstream and eyes forced shut, to move his hand to her back. To try and convey more than what he’s capable of with words that he didn’t mean to scare her. He just scared himself.

She turns her face into his sweatshirt and lets out a little sob, holding onto him. “I think I’m going to break up with Eric.” She’d come up with a thousand reasons Aaron would have disappeared, even as logic dictated where she knew he was. Her fear covered everything until she was sat wondering if she was making things worse for Aaron. His anxiety and migraines and everything else. Was she adding to his stresses or helping?

Coming home and having to ask him to relive parts of his childhood for her… Having him dab foundation over her bruises with his tremoring hands knowing he was thinking about his mother. That he was thinking about doing this exact exercise on himself, covering bruises his father left across his own face. Dabbing blood away and whispering empty, useless promises.

“Okay,” he whispers.

His mother had offered him that same lie a thousand times. She’d drawn lines in the sand and washed them away the next morning with the reconstruction of a wave -- thin cold fingers touching a bruise and asking what happened. As if she hadn’t watched. As if she hadn’t picked him up off the floor and hidden him away in his room, draping her body over his.

“I mean it,” she whispers, her tone mixed with conviction she doesn’t have.

“I know.” He’ll pretend to not remember this conversation when she goes bar crawling with Eric Thursday night. He’ll avoid the other’s eyes when they look at him for some sort of explanation, why she’s taken by her promise this time. But for now, he’s tired and he’s warm and he feels safe. He’ll call Spencer and Penelope later and apologize for blowing off the plans they had to watch Doctor Who, act like they all don’t know where he’s been.

“I love you.”

He squeezes her hips, gives in to his exhaustion. “I love you too.”

#abuse #child abuse #alcohol #suicide attempt #mental health #drugs #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss

[ibijau]

Hey, you said prompts are still open? If so, can you write something where jin guangshan is giving lan xichen 'unwanted attention'? Hopefully xisang?

Oops, this isn’t really xisang, and in fact mostly focuses on jgy. I finished this a few weeks ago actually, but just... forgot to post it? somehow??

 warning for implied rape, especially against minors

It is bad enough when Jin Guangshan looks at women like that. Every time Jin Guangyao catches his father’s lecherous glances toward servants, entertainers, girls of good birth or, on a few repulsing occasions, his own daughter-in-law, he finds himself shivering with uncontrollable disgust. He shouldn’t mind, it’s just traces of the brothel clinging to him even now. A man like Jin Guangshan is allowed to look however he pleases at whoever he likes, and Jin Guangyao is acting like the whore’s son he is whenever he silently disapproves.

Jin Guangshan looking at women inside his house is nothing at all like patrons looking at the girls at the brothel. Jin Guangyao knows those servants aren’t going to be cheated, he knows they get compensated for submitting to their master’s desires, he knows that Jin Guangshan isn’t foolish enough to make advances to women he shouldn’t want, not when there are so many pretty girls he can buy. Jin Guangyao knows this, because it is part of his job to compensate his father’s flings. Jin Guangshan has decided he would know how to handle this.

Jin Guangyao hates that his father was right about that. He knows how to deal with crying girls, how much money to give them (more than he should, but no one has noticed yet), how to find them work elsewhere once Madam Jin has figured out what’s happening and they must be asked to leave. Jin Guangyao deals with all this easily.

What he can’t deal with is seeing his father start looking at Lan Xichen.

There are not many people Jin Guangyao cares about. His mother is dead. Nie Mingjue, whom he once admired, now terrifies him. He has some vague affection for Nie Huaisang, who is a little stupid but likeable, and for Jin Zixuan and his wife, who are both trying their best to be kind to him. He loves his father. He has to. He refuses to consider the alternative, however tempting it is sometimes, in the dark of night, after another incident where Jin Guangshan treated him worse than he treats some servants.

Jin Guangyao loves his father, like the dutiful son he is.

He also loves Lan Xichen, the only brother he truly wants in his life.

If it were anyone else that Jin Guangshan had newly set his eyes on, Jin Guangyao could ignore it. His father rarely bothers with men, but he does on occasion. Those boys usually have to be paid more than the girls. 

Jin Guangshan is not kind to the boys he takes to bed.

If it were anyone else pestering Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao would find ways to deal with them, either on his own through veiled threats, or by carelessly mentioning it next to Nie Mingjue, who would have the power to make very open threats.

But it is Lan Xichen, it is Jin Guangshan, and Jin Guangyao is torn between loyalties.

So he does what he is best at, and maintains the status quo until he's forced to pick a side. 

Or at least, he tells himself that's all he's doing. If he prefers to meet his sworn brothers away from Lanling these days, it is only because Nie Mingjue is such an annoyance for Jin Guangshan. And certainly Lan Qiren is always invited alongside his nephew at conferences and official meetings lately, and then placed closer to Jin Guangshan than his nephew, but that is only because Jin Guangyao knows the Lan sect value seniority high above actual rank. And when his father does manage to strike a conversation with Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao makes sure to stick around, suddenly deaf and blind to his father’s little signs that he wants time alone with whoever was unlucky enough to have caught his eye.

Afterward, his father always scolds him over some minuscule detail he thinks went wrong at that conference, but only because he dares not say out loud what truly bothered him.

Jin Guangshan is a man who openly lusts after any woman, but his taste for pretty boys and delicate men is where he draws the line for shame. Jin Guangyao finds him ridiculous for this, but in this case, it plays to his advantage and helps him protect Lan Xichen.

For weeks and weeks, Jin Guangyao continues that delicate balancing act, but the more time passes, the harder it is. There is just too much to think about lately, especially with Jiang Yanli approaching her term (the child will be born early apparently, and Jin Guangyao has suspicions… the idea must have come from Jiang Yanli, he thinks. Jin Zixuan is too awkward, too openly disgusted by his father’s behaviour, and more importantly too terrified of his mother). There’s also the continued headache of Wei Wuxian’s mysterious behaviour, the sect he may or may not have established in the Burial Mounds of Yiling. Jin Guangyao can’t get any information on that. The only cultivator to have been on the Burial Mounds since Wei Wuxian seceded from Yunmeng Jiang is Lan Wangji, who isn’t exactly the sort to gossip. And then, when he has a little time for himself, Jin Guangyao has allowed himself to chat here and there with the oh-so-lovely Qin Su who is always so happy to see him, and is so understanding when he has little time to devote to her. All this on top of his normal work of course.

There seems to be a lot more of that lately, too. Jin Guangyao would not ever accuse his father of punishing him for his interference regarding Lan Xichen, but it takes great effort to not think about it.

Jin Guangyao is starting to feel truly exhausted, but he just borrows medicine from the doctors to keep going, and prays that things will calm down when his father is given a grandson.

Two months before the planned date of birth (a little under a month before the actual, honest planned date), Jin Guangyao’s sworn brothers come visit him. They explain that they’ve been worried about him. Jin Zixuan, charming imbecile that he is, has written to them to say that his half-brother looks badly in need of a break, and surely Jin Guangshan won’t be able to deny him one if two sect leaders are here to demand his company, right?

Jin Guangyao, while very touched that his brother would care enough to do this, still wants to strangle him.

Without surprise, instead of Jin Guangyao being allowed to spend time with his sworn brothers, the two men are quickly swept away by Jin Guangshan to discuss new rumours coming from the Burial Mounds. Since Nie Mingjue is there, nothing should happen to Lan Xichen, but Jin Guangyao finds himself increasingly anxious. He’d thought his father was just on the verge of getting over his fancy for Lan Xichen after seeing so little of him recently, but this will just reignite that fire and ruin all his hard work.

Jin Guangyao is in his office, trying to get some work done, when Nie Huaisang drops by.

Worried as he was about seeing Lan Xichen near his father, Jin Guangyao hadn’t noticed that Nie Mingjue had brought his brother along. It’s unusual, really. Nie Huaisang doesn’t much like Carp Tower apparently, and always finds some excuse to be absent from events organised there. Jin Guangyao suspects that he just finds Jin tastes too tacky for his refined preferences.

“San-ge, here you are!” Nie Huaisang exclaims, closing the door behind him and running to Jin Guangyao’s desk. “You left so quickly earlier! And here I was so happy to see you again… it’s been too long, really too long!”

Jin Guangyao half smiles. “I’m very sorry. And sadly, since I didn’t know you were coming, I don’t have any present for you this time, so…”

Nie Huaisang gasps, one hand on his heart, then pouts in what he clearly must think is an adorable manner. “San-ge, I am offended! I don’t like you just for the trinkets you get me, you know! I just like when people are nice to me. And speaking of that…”

Taking on a conspiratorial expression, Nie Huaisang glances around as if fearful he might be heard, before leaning over Jin Guangyao’s desk until he’s all be sprawled over it.

“Jin zongzhu really is nice with Er-ge lately,” Nie Huaisang remarks, opening his fan and half hiding behind it. “Very nice indeed, isn’t he?”

It takes all of Jin Guangyao’s self control not to grimace. If even someone like Nie Huaisang has noticed… though at the same time, it might not be so surprising. Jin Guangyao has suspected for a while now that Nie Huaisang too looks a little too much at Lan Xichen, even if he hasn’t yet figured out the exact reason. Sexual desire is one option, but it could also be just admiration, or even envy: Nie Huaisang probably wishes he could have been born in Gusu Lan which better fits his interest.

Jin Guangyao has wondered, on occasion, why he can never seem to pinpoint Nie Huaisang’s motivation in doing certain things. If Nie Huaisang weren’t such a charming little idiot, it might worry him. Instead, he mostly ignores it. Nie Huaisang, in the grand scheme of things, is entirely irrelevant to Jin Guangyao’s life.

“Huaisang, are you perhaps jealous?” Jin Guangyao can’t help but tease.

Immediately Nie Huaisang makes a face, his expression far more disgusted than would have been expected.

“Jealous? Of not getting that old fart’s attentions?”

“That’s my father, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao mildly objects, a little stunned. Nie Huaisang is rarely that open about liking or disliking anyone. His personality is too mild and easy going for any intense emotions.

“Some father he is,” Nie Huaisang retorts, lazily fanning himself, sending some of Jin Guangyao’s paperwork flying everywhere. “And don’t try to defend him, I know you hardly like him any more than I do. And I know you’re almost as unhappy as I am that he’s always looking at er-ge. I’m only mostly stupid, you know. I see what you’ve been doing, even if others don’t pay attention.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jin Guangyao dryly retorts, pushing Nie Huaisang away from his desk so he can put some order back in his papers.

So he can put some order in his thoughts as well. To have been seen and understood by someone like Nie Huaisang is a discomforting experience. It means he really must have been transparent in his efforts. No wonder his father has been so unhappy with him lately… and that’s the only reason Jin Guangyao will consider, of course. It is all because of this situation with Lan Xichen, all because of his divided loyalty, or else Jin Guangshan would have mellowed before his efforts already.

Jin Guangyao should just give in and let Lan Xichen fend for himself. It is ridiculous to think of protecting a man like the great Zewu-Jun, anyway.

Jin Guangyao should just allow for events to follow their natural course.

He would, if he didn’t know his father’s tendencies.

“You know, it’s not the first time Jin zongzhu starts looking at someone high ranking that he shouldn’t be looking at,” Nie Huaisang casually says. “He likes to establish his dominance over others, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

Jin Guangyao freezes, and shoots Nie Huaisang a curious look. The young man shrugs and closes his fan with a sharp movement, before going to pick up some papers that flew further away from the desk.

“If there’s a sect that feels weak, he’ll try to take advantage,” Nie Huaisang says as he kneels down to grab the documents. “He can’t do it with Yunmeng Jiang, because if he touches a single hair of Jiang Cheng or worse, Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian is going to come down from the Burial Mounds and slaughter everyone. That’s the only reason he hasn’t touched her, and you know it.”

With a slight grimace, Jin Guangyao nods. The way his father looks as his own daughter-in-law sometimes is… well. It’s good for her that her brothers are so temperamental and powerful.

“He can’t go after the Nie sect, he’s tried before and that didn’t go well for him,” Nie Huaisang casually continues, turning his back to Jin Guangyao as he meticulously tries to organise the papers he’s gathered. “But the Lan sect… ah, they’re easy pickings at the moment, right?”

“I’m sure Lan Xichen can stand for himself,” Jin Guangyao politely replies. “Though your concern is very touching.”

“I know your father’s methods,” Nie Huaisang retorts, still keeping his back turned. “And I think you know them too, because I know who pays his victims for their silence. He still uses that same drug, eh? Well, if it works…”

Jin Guangyao shivers at the other man’s tone. Suddenly, Nie Huaisang doesn’t sound like his bubbly, hare-brained self, and more like a colder version of his brother.

It suddenly occurs to Jin Guangyao that Nie Huaisang really is too frequently absent from events taking place in Lanling, and that he often disappears quickly even when his brother drags him there.

It also occurs to him that with how often Nie Mingjue has complained against his brother’s reluctance, he cannot know what caused it. Nie Mingjue isn’t one to play pretend. He also isn’t one to let insults or attacks against his brother go unpunished. Nie Huaisang knows that as well. And with how powerful the Nie sect is at the moment, a danger even to Lanling Jin, it makes no sense for Nie Huaisang to have kept secrets if something happened to him recently. Not that anything could have happened without Jin Guangyao knowing anyway. Dealing with his father’s partners was one of the first duties he’s been given upon rejoining Lanling Jin after the war, he would have known.

Unless it happened before the war.

Nie Huaisang stayed an awful long time in Gusu for his studies, and while he can be charmingly stupid, he’s got a pretty decent memory and excellent manners, so studying in the Cloud Recesses should have been easy for him… unless he didn’t want to leave too early. Perhaps if he’d gotten in trouble with someone powerful, he thought that being stuck in Gusu would make it easy to avoid that person. But then, if something happened before that, Nie Huaisang would have been so young, only just…

Jin Guangyao shivers, and wishes he were more surprised. His father’s tastes aren’t unknown to him. He isn’t too picky with women, but he likes boys more than he likes men.

“Er-ge knows to be careful,” Nie Huaisang says lightly, standing up again, a cheerful smile on his lips. “I’ve told him about some of the things I’ve heard happened to pretty boys in Lanling. But he’s also the sort who doesn’t want to believe the worst of people, and anyway, sooner or later, his vigilance might slip. Besides, isn’t it awful, always having to be on your guard like that? Ah, it must be the worst. You would know, of course?”

“My father will soon have a grandchild,” Jin Guangyao replies dryly. “He’ll have better things to do than look at pretty faces. It’s just a matter of waiting.”

“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t,” Nie Huaisang snaps, dropping a pile of paper on Jin Guangyao’s desk. “I know what I’d bet on. And I know it’s not a risk I’m willing to take, anyway. I know what sort of a man your dear daddy is, A-Yao, and I don’t want certain things to happen to my er-ge. So if Jin zongzhu doesn’t keep his hands to himself…”

Jin Guangyao shivers again. A shichen ago, he’d have laughed if anyone had told him that Nie Huaisang would ever try to intimidate him. Now though, seeing that smile devoid of warmth that’s just a touch too sharp and the feverish glint in those delicate eyes, Jin Guangyao can’t help feeling some genuine worry.

“Huaisang, are you trying to threaten my father?” Jin Guangyao laughs.

“No. I’m threatening you, A-Yao,” Huaisang announces, dropping his smile. He really does look too much like Nie Mingjue when he’s serious. “Deal with your father, or I will. And we both know that I just have a few things to say to my brother to send him in a rampage. And if he’s that angry, do you think he’ll really care that you vaguely tried to help Lan Xichen?”

Jin Guangyao freezes at the thought. Nie Mingjue doesn’t like him even when he’s in a good mood, so there’s no doubt he wouldn’t feel a shred of hesitation before lumping Jin Guangyao together with his father. Depending on how Nie Huaisang frames the situation, Jin Guangyao really might look like an accomplice. Hasn’t he helped his father deal with his lovers in the past? He’s never been made to help get those boys and girls into Jin Guangshan’s bed, not yet, but being the one to keep them quiet after, isn’t it worse?

Nie Mingjue will surely think it’s worse, since it’s Jin Guangyao doing it.

“A-Yao, I’m really glad we had this little talk,” Nie Huaisang chirps, suddenly all smiles again, as if there had never been a single thought in that pretty little head of his. “We should chat more! But I know you are so, so busy, so I’ll let you be for now. Still, give this some thought, alright? And if you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. Maybe we didn’t make a big production of it like with da-ge and er-ge, but I’m your friend too!”

Happy and cheerful once more, Nie Huaisang leaves with a spring to his step.

Alone at his desk, Jin Guangyao presses a hand against his mouth to fight the nausea that an intense wave of terror is causing. That it was caused by Nie Huaisang, of all people, almost makes him break into hysterical laughter, or perhaps it makes him want to cry. The two are equally likely, and only the self control he’s learned in Wen Ruohan’s service prevent him from exploding in such a disgraceful manner.

And so, when he calms down at last, Jin Guangyao finds himself divided again.

Before, he had wondered who he was most loyal to, between his father and his one true friend.

Now, by contrast, he must decide who terrifies him most between Jin Guangshan and Nie Mingjue.

And he knows no matter the answer, blood must be spilled if he is to survive this.

#jin guangyao #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #tagging lxc because the fic is technically about him even if he's mostly absent oops #jau writes #Anonymous #but yeah legit I finished this in january I think #and I was convinced I had posted it already but turns out I hadn't ooops??

[yutahoes]

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Ten)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝.𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning:   Filthy Sex(?) , Teasing, Unprotected Sex

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

10. Buddy

(Y/N) was surprised to see a black car in front of their home. What is Yuta doing here this early? She knocked on the driver's seat and saw the guy waking up, he slept here? She knocked once again and he opened the window after getting breath mints from his compartment and even brushing his unruly hair. "What are you doing here?" she asked, eyebrow raised in question. Did he stay all night here? "I passed by this morning and decided to check on you," he claimed but she just eyed him curiously. It was the same clothes he wore last night and he had a faint stubble on his chin, he really did sleep here. "Are you wearing a guy's clothes?" he asked then opened the door to fully look at her.

She was wearing Jungwoo's hoodie and sweatpants that she borrowed when she stayed over. Luckily, Lucas was out because of his modeling gig and just got home in the morning when she decided to leave to give the two some privacy. "Do you want to come inside?" she asked and he just gave her an incredulous look. She's really inviting a man to her home after the last night's events? "I think my dad has a shaver and some clothes that you can use," she claimed then opened the door to their tiny home.

Yuta was surprised at the size of their house, it's almost just as big as his office. She showed him the comfort room after taking away some of her things and tidying it up a bit. "Strip," she ordered that made him look at her in question. Did he hear her correctly? She wanted him to take off his clothes? "I have to laundry your clothes." she reasoned out but he's still hesitant that made her chuckle. "It's not like I haven't seen it before." She claimed and he sighed. She is indeed right. With no choice, he started removing his shirt and pants revealing his boxers and a hard-on that made her gulp. Damn it, why is he so turned like this? After last night? Really? (Y/N) handed him a towel and he wrapped it on his waist before removing the boxers and putting it on the soiled clothes. She gestured to the comfort room which he followed.

Damn it, Yuta thought. Why is this girl ordering him around like this? He wanted to punish her for being dominant like this, make her beg while slapping her ass real hard. Make her kneel while begging for his cock to enter her mouth. And choke her while crying for mercy. But the visual is too much for him that he started cumming in the bathroom while holding on to the tiles for support. Damn it, his sexual frustration with this girl is getting out of hand. He wanted her so bad. To his amusement, the said girl knocked on the door. "The shaver and clothes are here, I'll just leave..." but he opened the door, revealing his naked body dripping wet. "Yah!" she shouted. "It's not like you haven't seen it before." he mocked in the same tone she used earlier and she rolled her eyes at that. Oh damn, the things he wanted to do to this brat. But he needed to stop himself, that's different from what he really wanted to do.

The clothes were way bigger than Yuta but it looks good on him. This is unfair, (Y/N) thought. How can she stop herself with the indecent thoughts when he's this damn fine? "Have you eaten breakfast?" he asked as he watched her tie her hair in a ponytail. She's already changed in jeans and a white shirt that made him lick his lip, why do those clothes hug her curves well? "Have you?" she asked while looking at him and he honestly gasped at how ethereal she looked. Why is she so pretty like this? The guy only shook his head as an answer and she smiled at him, "Let's have breakfast first. I'll treat you."

--

Although Yuta disliked the idea, spending time with her is his priority now even if it meant getting treated by this girl to breakfast. He was about to head to his car when she just glared at him, claiming that they can just walk to the restaurant. Again, he was surprised that she brought him to a small restaurant that sells stew in the morning. The older woman smiled when the girl entered then frowned at him that made him nervous. "Ahjumma, I'll have the haejang-guk." (Y/N) claimed that made the older woman shook her head while asking, "Were you drunk again? You're getting worse than your dad." And she just giggled which made the guy surprised at how carefree she's being. "How about you?" the older asked in a stern voice and he answered that he'll have the same as hers in a small voice.

When the older left, (Y/N) took something from her pocket then handed it to Yuta, his black card. "I'm sorry about everything but I promise to pay everything that my dad and I took from your card," she claimed but he shook his head, looking at the card. "It may be a small amount to you but I can't bear owing something to anyone..." she claimed and in a small voice continued, "And I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Use me. Spend my money. I don't really care." he claimed then held her hand that was above the table. The surprise was too much for (Y/N) to retract her hand, what is he even saying? "I'm having withdrawal symptoms." he started. "I can't sleep. I don't eat right. Even my secretary tells me that I'm doing a terrible job in the office. And it's all because of you." his thumb caressed the back of her hand while staring straight at her. "You're making me crazy, (Y/N)." That snapped her back to her thoughts and pulled away from her hand as if it is on fire.

"Do you do this to all the girls you met?" she asked that made him shook his head. "Yuta, there must be a catch. How can someone as successful as you be crazy because of a girl like me?" she asked in disbelief making him sigh.

Yuta sighed heavily and was thankful when their orders came and she was a little bit distracted. Maybe he's really hungry that he decided to take some of the soup first. He was honestly surprised at how rich the taste is, the meat is so tender and the soup is so rich. "This is really delicious." he suddenly muttered in Japanese that made her raise her eyebrow at him. Why does he sound so hot speaking in Japanese? Damn, why is she so sexually frustrated over this man? Maybe that's it. He's sexually frustrated and here she is, giving him what he wanted from the start. But why her?

"Yuta, do you want to have sex with me?" she asked straightforwardly that made him choke on the soup. How can she say that so easily? And here he is, trying to stop his arousal. The question was obviously heard by the couple next table that they started snickering to each other. "I have time to spare. We can have a quickie..."

"I don't do quickies," he claimed almost defensive while slamming the table that made the other customers look at him in surprise. "I..." he muttered while pushing his hair back, obviously frustrated at the girl. Well, (Y/N) thought, he is hot like this. It would be a real turn on to piss him off like this. "Please don't do this to me, (Y/N)." he pleaded.

(Y/N) smirked as an answer, "Anything you say, Mr. Nakamoto, sir." she emphasized the last word that made his eyes darken in lust. Fuck, Yuta thought, she's one hell of a frustrating girl. But that only made him want her more. And can he emphasize how he wanted to hear her say sir once again? While pleading with that pretty eyes, kneeling in front of him, begging him to take her. Fuck, he can't be thinking of that now.

--

After breakfast, they went back to her house since his car is there, and honestly, he can't really walk properly with the raging boner in his pants. (Y/N), on the other hand, felt really sticky to the core that her underwear was really soaked. She can't really go to work like this, right? And judging by the arousal in his pants, he can't really stay away from that as well.

It's been so long, she missed a cock inside her. The last time she had sex was with this same person in Paris so when she pushed him inside, (Y/N) knew that she isn't making the same mistakes she did anymore. Yuta moaned in the kiss, groaning when her hand touched his rock hard bulge. "Fuck, I miss you." he whispered against her lips and she smiled, "Then don't hold back."

His shirt was easily thrown to the ground as their lips didn't even let go of each other until her back was against the wall. He raised both her arms, his own hand traveling inside her shirt which he successfully discarded from her. His kisses went to her neck as he undid the hooks of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Yuta's fingers tweaked her nipples that made her moan.

This isn't fair, (Y/N) thought, he's giving her so much pleasure yet he had only discarded his shirt. She started undoing his pants, letting them fall on the ground. Yuta moaned against her shoulder when her cold fingers came in contact with his twitching cock. He seemed bigger than the last time they had sex if that's possible. "Fuck, baby," he called and she just bit her lip. Why does it sound so good, so erotic even, coming from him? "I'll cum if you keep doing that." But (Y/N) didn't stop jerking his cock with her small hands and even scattering the precum on the tip of his cock.

"I thought you're not into quickies," she claimed, challenge present in her voice. She raised her eyebrow as he squinted his eyes at her. If there is one thing Yuta hates, that would be losing and since this girl is challenging him, why not give her what she wants? He turned her around that made the girl scream, removing her pants and entering a finger in her wet core. "Is that a challenge baby girl?" he asked against her ear, licking her lobe. (Y/N) had to hold on to the wall at the sudden aggressiveness, her ass pushed forward and she could feel Yuta's cock rubbing on her ass. "Do you want me to ruin you?" he asked that made her moan. Yuta slapped her pussy that made her scream. Fuck, he's so sadistic and dominant. "Answer me."

"Yes Yuta, ruin me." And she hated how desperate she sounded against her ear. Another slap on her pussy and she screamed. "Yes sir. Ruin me." But it isn't enough for Yuta's ears. There's a word that he's been yearning to hear and after two slaps, he finally heard it desperately called by her "Daddy!". He entered her in such a force that she almost bumped her head on the wall. "Yes baby, let daddy ruin you," he claimed as he kept thrusting inside her.

(Y/N)'s breasts were squished against the wall as he kept on pounding into her from behind. "I'm close, fuck." But he kept his pace until the orgasm hit on her. Yuta is so good, damn it. He pulled out but he's still hard that made her glare at him, he's really going to ruin her today. Another round on the couch and (Y/N) knew that she's going to be a slave for this man's cock. He kept on hitting her deliciously, in that area that brings her too much pleasure. After two more orgasms, she was more than amazed to see how hard Yuta is still. "I have to say, that's quite a stamina," she claimed and he just smiled as an answer, helping her with her clothes. She's already late for work and the soreness of her vagina isn't helping at all. "Let me help you with that."

Her mouth is too hot for him. That or he's just really anticipating his orgasm. He had been holding off for too long just to show this girl how much he can fuck her and honestly, he did prove his point. But now, he's at his own breaking point. When she started deep throating him, he moaned and grabbed her hair to fuck her mouth. Damn, she's so good with her tongue that when he came, she just swallowed everything. Yuta wiped the drool from her mouth, looking at her as if he had done a wonderful job. "What an obedient slut." he mumbled and she moaned, rubbing herself against the couch. Why does she like it so much?

"Then let's do this, Yuta," she suggested that made him sit on the couch next to her. "Make me your whore, that way I can pay you the money that I took from you." Yuta was about to revolt, that's not what he wanted from her. "This will be a win-win for us. Use me if you need me and I'll call you if I need inspiration from my work." she reasoned out. "Please, this is the only way that will work for me to repay you."

The guy sighed as he watched her bite her lip in contemplation. Damn, even that small gesture is turning him on. "If I say no, will I ever see you again?" The girl shook her head, claiming that she'll highly doubt that. "Then I really should say yes," he claimed.

"Great!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she stood up from the couch. "I have to go to work and..." she suddenly winced in pain that made him look at her in worry. "Don't worry, you just ruined me that's all," she claimed casually and he raised an eyebrow. True enough, she kept on whimpering while walking that made him so amused. She's already this sore from that simple sex? She really needs to get dicked down often.

The guy quickly scooped her up, making her revolt. "I'll drive you to work," he suggested as he took her to his car. He put the seatbelt on her, licking his lips as the belt emphasized her breasts. (Y/N) had to giggle at that, now he's turned on again. Really though, he's such a sperm bank. How many times does he cum in a day? If they really continue with this set-up, she'll surely get sore each day. A whore for him. Is this a good decision or something that she might regret in the long run? "Do you want to eat first or something?" he asked as he swerved across the streets coolly.

The girl shook her head although he can't see her. "I'm really late. Johnny is going to kill me," she exclaimed and he just accelerated the car. Yuta hated the idea that he had to rush getting her to work when he literally wanted to spend time with her. When he stopped by their small publishing house, he held on to (Y/N)'s arm before she could get out of the car. "Can we have dinner later?" he asked and she gave him a curious look.

"Yuta, we agreed to be fuck buddies. Not someone in a relationship," she claimed that made his face fell that instant. Of course, but can't they have dinner? Do they really need to have sex just to meet or see each other? But Yuta knew that there's a way to everything, he's a businessman isn't he? "Then let's discuss some ground rules about this..." he trailed off then glanced at the two of them. "Set-up." The girl only arched her eyebrow and that looked really hot in Yuta's eyes. "So I'll pick you up after work, seven?"

(Y/N) had to smile at that, he's really amusing. "Six." she corrected and he nodded before she went out of his car. Well, Yuta is really charming and he gave her a really good fuck that both Jungwoo and Ten were eyeing her with a knowing smile when she went inside the door. "Wild night?" Ten asked but the girl gave a sly smile while answering, "Wild morning."

Jungwoo was quick to hug her that made her wince. Fuck it, even her body is aching right now. "I'm sorry." he quickly apologized but she smiled wryly. "You got dicked down after Paris, I'm so happy for you." he sincerely claimed but the girl just stared at him. Maybe they were friends for so long that he already understood what she meant by that look. "Paris guy? That Japanese guy?" he asked in surprise that made her nod. Ten only nodded, "Small world. Maybe you're really meant to be." (Y/N) shrugged, maybe they really are.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

I'm sorry for the lame sexual scene. 🤦 Kill me now. 

Chapter 9 / Chapter 11

#SMUT #yutasmut #yutanakamotosmut #Yuta #nctsmut #yutanakamoto #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nct smut

[chika-the-terrible]

Scars

Billy after Starcourt hates to leave a part of himself uncovered. Not because he feels vulnerable (which he does) but because he doesn’t want others seeing the scars he got from fighting the Mind Flayer. So he starts wearing long-sleeved clothes and pants, unlike the stuff he used to wear before, trying to cover every inch of his chest at the very least. But since Billy doesn’t have a lot of covering clothes, he needs to get some somehow (he doesn’t wanna spend his getaway money if he doesn’t have to).

Around the same time Steve comes into the picture. He’s been one of the few people who’ve come to see Billy every day while he recovered, along with Max. At first Billy doesn’t see it, but as the weather gets colder, Steve shows that he has plenty of long-sleeved shirts and sweaters. Billy knows that Steve’s rich and his home life isn’t the best. He doesn’t wanna take advantage of Steve but the brunette wouldn’t mind if Billy asked to borrow a few shirts, right?

“Hey, uh,” Billy burrowed deeper into his jean jacket, uncomfortable, “Do you mind if I borrow some of your sweaters?”

“Um, sure?” Steve blinked, “You can borrow anything you want.” And that was that. Steve gave Billy a stack of sweaters and long-sleeves and Billy keeps those at the back of his closet, under the jacket, with the rest of the clothes he’s started wearing after Starcourt. He doesn’t want his dad to see them, just in case, and so Billy makes sure to keep them covered in some way, even when he’s wearing them. But, inevitably, Neil finds out about the new (borrowed) clothes and demands to know where Billy got them and Billy doesn’t tell him and that’s when Neil kicks him out. Billy’s left with Steve’s shirts, the clothes on his back, and the Camaro, and that’s that. Max promises to keep the stuff in his room safe by taking them for herself but Billy has no idea where he could go after this, until he looks down at the sweater he’s wearing and thinks, Steve.

“Billy?” was Steve’s first question when he opened the door to find the blond on his doorstep, “What’re you doing here at this time of night?”

“Hey, Pretty Boy.” Billy gave an uneasy smile, “Mind if I ask you for another favor?” Billy doesn’t explain the situation he’s got, only that he’s been kicked out of his house and needs a place to stay. Steve immediately accepts him and invites him inside and so Billy stays in the too-large too-empty home while he finishes school and Steve goes to work. It’s hard for Billy to adjust to all the space and silence but eventually he gets used to it and his presences makes the house feel more lived in, especially now with two occupants. He has his own room for the little stuff he has and he mostly keeps to himself, trying not to impose on Steve too much, not after all that Steve had done for him, and he doesn’t want the brunette seeing his scars.

Sometimes, when they have dinner together, Steve asks a little about why Billy was kicked out. Billy knows Steve’s curious but he doesn’t wanna talk about his own life and brushes it off whenever it comes up. Steve’s respectful enough to drop the issue, at least. But every now and then it comes up again and Billy has to shoot Steve down again. Things change when Billy wakes in the middle of the night, close to graduation, to hear the front door being knocked on furiously and he finds Max outside and in tears. He doesn’t need an explanation to know what happened and it’s then that he asks Steve to call Hopper while he comforts his little sister. Max tells him that Neil had finally decided to hit her that night when she refused to give him some of Billy’s stuff, which Neil had likely been planning to sell off. It makes Billy’s blood boil but at least, now with her proof, they can finally bring a case against Neil.

While Max stays the night with them, she asks to see his scars and he lets her, knowing she probably wanted to figure out which ones were supernaturally-made and which ones were human-made. She’s the only one Billy lets see the scars, and he tells her about some of the abuse he faced when she wasn’t there, the stuff she didn’t know. They get barged in on by Steve, though, but he only stares a little before he tells them that Hopper’s arrested Neil and that Max was welcome to stay the night, where Susan would pick her up in the morning. He then leaves them alone and Billy lets out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

“Do you like him?” Max asks, and Billy doesn’t know for sure. He knew he liked boys, did ever since California, but he’d never let Max know about his preferences. But she was a smart girl, bound to pick up on things. And Steve’s hospitality, whether Billy liked it or not, had made a fuzzy feeling settle in the blond’s chest. He gave her a shrug.

“Maybe, shitbird.” And then he offers to let her sleep with him, knowing she needs comfort. Billy wants Max to stay with him, where he knew she’d be safe, but he knew he couldn’t take her away from her mother. Billy only hoped that he’d be welcome back after all this was over and Neil had gotten punishment. And the next morning he holds back in the hallway as Max goes to Susan and they share a hug. Susan thanks Steve for his hospitality, glances warily at Billy, and then she and Max are leaving for their own home. Billy moves to the living room and Steve follows and he knows that he’s about to be asked questions he can’t avoid and so Billy tugs his jean jacket tighter around himself in a show of comfort. Steve sits beside him on the couch in silence for a short while.

“Is that why you asked for the sweaters?”

“Yeah.” Billy nodded. He shifted uncomfortably under Steve’s gaze.

“And most of it is Starcourt?”

“Most of it.” Billy nodded again. He’s waiting for Steve to tell him how ugly he looks now, with all his scars. Instead Steve puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “Should’ve told me sooner. You’re welcome to all my clothes, y’know.”

“I am?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled, “I know how comforting they can be. A sweater always makes me feel better after a nightmare, so I keep one by my bed to cuddle in case one hits.” Billy wanted to tease about that, only to realize that he’d done similar things in the past, searching for something comforting.

“So... You won’t kick me out?”

“Of course not. Why would I?”

“Because.” Billy played with a stray fiber hanging from his jacket, “I’m ugly now. Can’t show my skin without getting looks.”

“You’re not ugly.” Steve said, “The scars, they’re a testament to what you did. I know you don’t wanna be called a hero, Billy, but that’s what you were. You saved El, you helped stop the Mind Flayer. Those scars tell me you survived something terrible, even if you can’t say a word. Look at you now.” Steve smiled at him, “You’re amazing, Billy.” And Billy feels like crying because he could tell Steve meant it and never before had he gotten such praise. Yes, people had called him a hero before, in the wake of Starcourt, but there was something about the way Steve said it that made it feel different, that it wasn’t just hollow words. And so Billy hugged Steve, grateful that the brunette didn’t think of him worse.

And after that Billy found his room’s closet stocked with sweaters, all brand new, along with the borrowed ones he’d originally asked for. Billy’s chest swelled at the sight, that all of these things were just for him, and it was at that moment that he knew he loved Steve Harrington. So after he got all his stuff back and converted the room into something that resembled Billy, the blond started planning on how he would reveal himself to Steve. First step was to come out and, if Steve accepted him for that, then hopefully Steve would feel the same way. Billy knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but ever since Steve had agreed to share his sweaters, Billy had found himself hoping for things he’d never hoped for before.

But he wasn’t able to come out to Steve, not in the way he wanted to, at least. It was during the summer that Will Byers revealed he was gay to his family and friends, which included Steve, and somehow that turned into a fest where Billy said he himself was gay and he found that Robin was a lesbian and Steve was bisexual, among other things. It had been an interesting night. But it at least confirmed to Billy that he had a chance with Steve and now he just had to make the right call and hope he didn’t get rejected.

So he waited and waited and waited, even as Max told him he needed to make a move because she knew he loved Steve and he was being an idiot. But Billy still waited because at his core he was a scared kid that lashed out in anger and he didn’t wanna put his heart out and have it crushed. He didn’t wanna ruin his new friendship with Steve if he got rejected. He was finally able to make a move at Halloween, 1986, because he and Steve had decided to stay in and give out candy and a stray comment from Robin coming by soon led to him showing his feelings and Steve showing them back. Billy couldn’t be happier to have Steve love him back and so that’s how their relationship began.

But being in a relationship didn’t mean Billy was comfortable showing his scars to Steve. They were a darkened part of him, a rotting part that he didn’t want anyone to see. He knew Steve didn’t care about that, about his scars being terrible reminders of everything, but Billy was self-conscious. It was something that had grown on him in the wake of Starcourt, leading to the sweaters, leading to this, and so maybe he could show Steve after all, but only if the brunette asked. But Steve never did, being the respectful person he was, and so Billy had to ask if Steve wanted to see the scars.

“No, because I know you don’t want me to. Why?”

“Well,” Billy chewed on his lip, “We’re together now, and you have a right to see them.”

“I don’t. It’s your body Billy, you choice on what you want to show me.”

“But if I don’t, we might not get to have sex together, and I wanna show you how much you mean to me one day.” Billy explained, “And if it’s ever gonna get to that point, I should be comfortable with you seeing my scars.” Before Steve could protest, Billy took off the ridiculous sweater Joyce had bought for him for Christmas, black and covered in lights. He lowered his head, afraid to see Steve’s expression, and only looked up when Steve held one of his hands.

“May I?” Steve asked. The blond nodded, and he tried not to flinch away as the brunette’s fingers glided over the wounded and raised flesh. Steve was being gentle with him, careful, trying not to hurt even though Billy was sure there was nothing Steve could physically do to hurt him worse than he’d already had in the past. But then his hands trailed up to cup Billy’s face and they kissed.

Billy almost couldn’t believe that this all started with him asking Steve for sweaters to cover up his scars.

#stranger things #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #max mayfield #writing #fanfiction #not posted #my post

[alleycat97]

Could you do a Veronica x MC where she spent the night at MC’s dorm and had to borrow one of MC’s old sweaters to sleep in. And MC secretly takes a pic of V while she’s still sleeping and posts it. And when V sees it she’s kinda pissed that there’s now a pic of her in this sweater online, but the caption from MC is super cute so she lets it slide 💙💙💙

Love it!

Veronica x MC (Bea)

...

There was advantages to dating a social media queen. The prestige, the power, the fame. Everyone who knew Veronica, knew her girlfriend Bea.

But with advantages, there was disadvantages. Like when Veronica had to cancel dates to shoot ads or spend nights away from Bea replying to fan mail. There was more to it than Bea realized. It was Veronica’s life, her career and it was booming.

Other than those few hurdles, Veronica was everything for Bea. She made it all up with you name it. She truly loved Bea but she had one rule, no pictures unless she approved it.

Bea’s camera roll was thin of cute pics of her and Veronica. She had an image to keep and was very insecure with looking subpar. Especially to her millions of viewers and more importantly, Bea.

It was a rare occurrence that Veronica looked ‘natural’ but on nights like tonight, it happened.

Veronica was at Bea’s. It had begun snowing earlier so Bea insisited she just wait to return to the Zeta house tomorrow.

So they had a date night, the unplanned ones where the best ones. It was late anyway, nothing more than snuggles in bed and a movie.

“Can I borrow a sweater babe?” Veronica asked drooling over Bea’s collection of sweaters.

“Yeah sure. Anyone you like.”

“Do you have anything designer?”

Bea stopped channel searching to meet V’s gaze, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Here, this one is super comfy.” Bea said finding one for Veronica.

“Winchester High Hog Calling Champ? God no Bea.”

“What!? It’s comfy, here feel.”

“Ok it is. But NO pictures.” Veronica slid the slightly oversized sweater on and was immediately satisfied. “Where are your wipes?”

Bea gave her some makeup wipes and she lightly wiped the makeup off her face before crawling into bed.

The day was obviously showing wear on V, she fell asleep rather quickly, snuggled tightly into a ball next to Bea.

Bea could not help herself. She had to capture the cuteness overload that was Veronica. She snapped a few pictures and found the best one to post. She was her girlfriend, she wouldn’t be punished that bad.

Veronica woke the next morning and did her usual stretches. She could hear Bea in the kitchen making breakfast, typical habit when she stayed over.

She grabbed her phone and was confused by the zillion notifications. She saw what the fuss was over when she saw a picture posted by Bea. She was drooling, with no makeup wearing a Hog Calling Champion sweater snuggled up beside Bea sleeping. She was livid.

She scanned the comments, not so bad except for the ones laughing at that gaudy sweater and her with no makeup.

“Bea!” She growled heading into the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“What the fuck Is this!!!!!”

“It’s a picture? You know the ones you take with a phone?”

“Yes smartass I know! I had one rule and you broke it! Look how awful I look! Delete it now!” Veronica protested.

“V calm down it’s ok.”

“No it’s not Bea. Everyone has seen it! I’m ruined! Read the comments!”

“Baby calm the hell down. You look incredible.”

“No I don’t. You know how I feel about being exposed like that.”

“I know V, but I think you look just as amazing like that.”

Veronica just sat depressed. Her imagine was everything.

“Did you even read the caption?” Bea sighed.

No she didn’t. She was too upset. “I don’t care. Just please delete it. Please.”

Man she sounded sad. Bea pulled up the photo ready to delete it, but instead she decided to make Veronica read the caption.

Veronica sighed and began to read the caption,

“You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car or money. You love them for the song they sing that only YOU can hear. I love you Veronica Lombardi ❤️ With my entire heart and soul.”

“Oh Bea...” Veronica began crying. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shhh shhh. It’s ok. I shouldn’t have broken your rule.”

“It’s ok. I just love you so much and I have issues being accepted and...”

She was cut off with a sweet kiss that rocked her to her core.

“I know. But I’m here and I’m going to help you get passed it.”

“I don’t deserve you Bea.”

“Oh yeah. You’d be lost without me.”

“Doubt it. Now let’s go eat. All these emotions are making me hungry.”

...

It was weeks since the picture had been posted and for someone who hated that sweater, she would not turn it loose.

Bea tried, she begged, she even bribed her to give it back. But Veronica would not let it go. It became Iconic with her, she even took pictures in it. Bea was so not getting her sweater back.

#playchoices #pixelberry #queen b mc #queen b veronica #veronica lombardi #veronica x mc #queen b choices

[faunahudson]

settle | self para

Who: Fauna Flanagan and Percy Flanagan with mentions of Rory Flanagan, Conor Flanagan and Sawyer Hudson Where: Belfast When: Feburary 2020 What: Fauna and Percy discuss his opinions on her future Warnings: emotional abuse, derogatory language, Percy Flanagan

It’s pouring with rain the night in February that her father comes to collect her from uni. It was an odd thing that in her adult life she’d begun to rely on lifts, since her and Rory had almost never been collected from school beyond primary. This had partially been because Percy had accused Mary of coddling them by doing so, but mostly because they liked the independence of walking or getting the bus. Fauna had always enjoyed the opportunity to read one of the many paperbacks that she kept crammed in the bottom of her bag. While Rory claimed to like the social aspect of the bus referring to him and Dobsy accusing Tired Pete in the year below of having a gay love affair with the bus driver because he always got off with an under twelves fare way into his teens. It also made people suspect them less of being Tories because their parents didn’t drive them, made them seem more normal. Fauna had liked it that way less reason for people to look at them, and with her headphones in she could ignore the commentary on her sex life that had always followed her back then.

It had been funny, appearing at uni in Belfast. Despite being the new girl things actually weren’t all that weird, she wasn’t ostracised the last way she had been during high school, everything was different in her new classes. In the weeks leading up to her first day there had been the bubble of fear that it would be like it had been in Dublin, that the videos would be found and the rumours would start up all over again. But instead she had been greeted warmly. After classes there were invites to pubs and cups of tea offered, everyone wanted to get to know Sawyer. A few people had even asked about Alexis, which they laughed about over their daily FaceTimes. How funny it was that people liked her when she didn’t really need them to anymore. This new warmth from people had meant that she seldom needed to walk or to take the bus because there was always someone’s car she could cram into, but on this particularly rainy Tuesday she’s been at the clinic later than she expected and there’s no bus for an hour. She knows Sawyer will be working, so she calls her home phone hoping to catch Maurie or her Ma to beg a lift and maybe some dinner. The phone rings twice, when it picks up she goes to talk immediately the way she usually would but she’s halted by.

“Fauna.” Her father says obviously having recognised her number, his tone not annoyed or accusatory for once which makes her immediately wonder if he’s drunk.

“Hey Da, is Maurie there?” She asks, hoping that if he is truly good and drunk he’ll just pass the phone over and she won’t have to prolong their interaction.

“No, her and your Ma went over to your grandparents.” He isn’t drunk, she can tell that by now. If he was drunk he would have put the phone down after delivering that message. “What did you need them for?” If he’d been any other person in the entire world she would have told him it was nothing and then tried to rummage around in her bag for enough change for a cab into town. But she knew if she told him that it was nothing then it would start a fight where he’d demand to know what she was hiding from him, and her feet ached too much for that.

“Oh I was just gonna try and beg a lift from the clinic, scran something from Ma. You know how I am.” She says, though it’s not true. He barely knows her at all. There’s a pause, which lasts longer in her head than it probably did in real life because she’s so fucking cold.

“I’ll pick you up, we’ll go for a pint.” Those were the last words that she expected to come out of his mouth, and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks before she stop herself, it’s always a terrible idea to question Percy and her heart sinks as soon as she says it. That’s always the problem with living with someone who you can completely be herself with, she forgets that she has to put her guard back up with other people.

“Because you need a fucking lift and I’m the only one in, god it’s not complicated Fauna Eloise.. sometimes I wonder what they teach you up there because it’s not bloody common sense.” Percy snaps.

“Sorry Da.. you’ve just never picked me up before.” Fauna responds, trying to mollify him. “Thanks though.” She adds, he’s not actually punished her since that time at parents week but she doesn’t really want to go through it again.

“Text me the address.” He says, and honestly even though she’s sure she’ll probably live to regret it right now she’s just grateful to think about getting out of the cold. A pint, is a pint after all. Though Percy hadn’t done anything particularly heinous since Sawyer punched Harold at new years, so she supposed she was about due for him to do something to remind her why she hated him so much.

Percy has brought his favourite Porsche coupe and it arrives a lot sooner than Fauna thought it would. She’d almost expected he’d keep her waiting, to punish her for questioning his motives. She dashes through the rain and slips into the front seat, to find Percy listening to the rugby. “Thanks for the lift Da, it’s vile outside.” The weather is usually a pretty safe topic, Percy hates the rain. There’s a brief conversation about the state of the roads, and what she was doing at the clinic before he looks at her and says.

“You can drive can’t you? Why don’t you have a car?” Fauna has to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing at this question. God he really didn’t have any idea what life was like did he? As if her and Sawyer could think about running a car when all they had to live on was the few shifts that she could take at the ER, his barely minimum wage earnings at the pub and what was left of her savings. They could barely afford groceries some weeks, and she’d been shoving the council tax bills underneath the freezer until Maurie had insisted that they take an envelope of ‘Christmas money’ to get rid of them.

“Yeah I can drive, you gave me a lesson once remember?” She reminds him. That was probably the last time that he’d volunteered to spend time with her that wasn’t to give her a bollocking. The lesson hadn’t been terrible to be honest, mostly because Percy liked feeling in control and like he was the smarter one of the two and Fauna didn’t mind learning when she thought the skill was useful. “Canne afford a car though, don’t really need one anyway I only really go to uni and to the pub. Sawyer borrows Glens car sometimes.. if we’re gonna go visit Nana or something.”

He grunts in recognition of the lesson. “You’d have more than enough money if you lived at home.” That’s the second time that evening that he’s stunned her to silence, and so she just stares at him like a fish. Was he really suggesting that she should move home?

“I mean.. I guess. But me and Sawyer are happy where we are I think. It’s nice to have a place of our own, weren’t really supposed to live together at school. ” She responds eventually, she wants to ask him why she would ever want to move home when he’d all but shoved them out of the door when they’d lived there for the month after Ohio. “Besides my single is a bit small for both of us. Sawyers a big lad.”

“Hm.” Is all her father replies it’s not like she expected him to laugh, she doesn’t think he’s ever laughed at one of her jokes but she does have to wonder where he’s going with all this. Her hands fidget in her lap as she waits for the penny to drop but he doesn’t press her on the topic. After a brief silence they pull up to one of the fancy country restaurants that Percy loves where the prices make her teeth hurt. She’s been uncomfortable with this kind of thing since she was a little girl who wore her wellie boots to church. As a kid she used to say she wasn’t hungry anymore and she didn’t want to go inside, which would usually cause him to call her ungrateful and all but yank her from the car while Rory wailed that he wanted Mcdonalds. Even now as an adult she wants to tell him that she’s not dressed for this kind of pint, and that she still stinks of the clinic. But again she knows that it’s not worth fighting over so she pulls the hood of her coat up and trudges with him inside. 

Percy knows the girl on the door, and he speaks to her in an odd charming voice that Fauna knew he had but had never experienced first-hand. She thinks about this version of her father occasionally though, when she’s wondering how Maurie or her Ma ever ended up with him. It’s this charming Dominant they thought they were getting claimed by, not the bad-tempered man who can never be wrong, that ended up raising their kids. They’re shown to a table, and handed expensive looking leather bound menus. Fauna almost doesn’t want to open the thing, but her stomach is growling so she scans the print for the cheapest thing on the menu.

“It’s on me.” Percy says as if reading her mind. It’s early in the dinner for him to declare this, one of his favourite games when he brought her and Sawyer out was always to order and then ask them to pay at the end of the meal. Watching them try to scrap around for enough money to cover the extortionate tab, before the waitress told them that Mr Flanagan had already paid. It was the kind of humiliating mind game that Percy specialised in, always reminding them that they relied on him, that they needed him. Fauna considers asking him whether or not he’s sure he wants to pay but that’s another question so instead she says.

“Thank you very much Da, you didn’t have to bring me out here. I’d have taken a half eaten bag of crisps.” She jokes, her stomach rumbling as her eyes scan over the options. While she’s not a fan of fancy places, she is looking forward to eating something that she didn’t make in that one pot that never seemed to have quite lost the burned crust that she’d created when Sawyer had distracted her while she was trying to make red wine gravy.

“I know, you’ve always been willing to eat any old shit.. Take shit from everyone. You shouldn’t settle though, not about food and not in your life Fauna.” Percy says, and Fauna is starting to wonder if this is all about Sawyer somehow. Percy had been awfully nice to Sawyer since the incident at new years and she now had a creeping suspicion that he’d just been biding his time, lulling them into a false sense of security.

“I mean I actually do just really like cheap food to be honest with you Da, I really enjoyed the American preoccupation with junk food while I was there. As for everything else, I don’t really think I’m settling. I thought I was doing pretty well to be honest, I left a school that I didn’t think was gonna give me a fair shot, I’m studying to be a doctor at the best school around and I’ve got an amazing boyfriend.. what more could I want?”

“You live in a pokey one bedroom flat and you can’t afford a car, you and Sawyer should be thinking about a house of your own.” Percy declares, and honestly Fauna is just glad that Sawyer was included in whatever weird fucking conversation they were about to have. 

“I mean once I’m qualified Da.. we’ll work on a claim and then we can start to think about getting a house and stuff. But I’m in med school right now, that’s you know.. expensive.” She wants to mention her trust fund, because it would solve every single problem that he keeps talking about. But she’d rather try to work out where he’s going with all this first. 

The waitress arrives at that point, and Fauna hasn’t even really thought about what she wants though she decides to use this to her advantage. “Can you order for me Da? You know what’s good here better than me” Percy actually almost cracks a surprised smile at this, letting a Dominant order for you is good manners in his book. Fauna has never been opposed to this kind of power exchange when it’s consensual, though usually not with her father. But she knows that he thinks she’s a terrible submissive, that she’s not willing to follow any kind of rules so little gestures like this can occasionally help with keeping him in a good mood. He orders her something with goats cheese that Maurie apparently likes and a regular pint. 

“I know you think I’m some kind of monster, because I won’t just let you and your brother waste your lives. And you act like I’m a cunt because Ive always tried to stop you from parading yourself around like a whore and acting like a nasty little brat.” Percy says, and Fauna takes a long drink of the pint that’s just been put in front of her. Vodka would have been better. Just when she was thinking this was going well. “But I push you because I know you can have more, and because I always wanted you to find a decent claim. Unlike your moron of a twin, I always knew you had potential. You’re decent looking like your mother, and nobody would ever shut up about how clever you were even when you were a kid. Though it was always like pulling teeth getting you to show it. Obviously there was no chance of you going into the business because you’ve always been submissive and overly emotional.. but I pushed you to do what you were good at.” Fauna wants to say that yelling abuse and emotional manipulation go a little further than ‘pushing’ and that if he really wanted to push her he could have offered to help with medical school but she holds her tongue. “I’ve always been trying to teach you not to be a chump and to be able to stand on your own two feet like I had to. Nobody gave me a hand out.” 

In a world where Percy wasn’t the worst person on the planet , Fauna might have spoken about him with pride. He was self made after all, his friends were always clapping him on the back and talking about his clever investments outside of the business. But he’d soured every page of his biography with his actions, and left her uninterested in knowing how he made the money that he so loved to hold over her and Rorys heads. The money that he used to manipulate her mother and Maurie into submission, and literally the only thing that made him any difference from the drunks that he sneered at on a Saturday night. 

“You’ve been making improvements though I’ve noticed, since our talk in Ohio. You’ve been more like a submissive should be, less crass, not dragging yourself out of bars like a tramp. Minding your manners.” Percy says, and Fauna raises an eyebrow. “And New Year reminded me something.. that I’ve been too hard on you particularly in a way. I always lump you and Rory in together because everyone else does. Which was never good for you, you don’t want people thinking you're a layabout junkie like him. I gave you the same treatment because I thought you needed the same push to succeed. But you’re a submissive and so I shouldn’t expect you to be able to do things for yourself. You’re supposed to be weak, you should be obedient.” In her mind Fauna punches him square in the jaw, and she stays visualising that as the waitress puts something that smells delicious in front of her. “But when the Yank fucking battered Harold, I realised that getting you under control was about finding you the right Dominant and shaping him. At first I thought the Hudson boy was a total waste of fucking air since he’s a skint drifter, with no decent family to speak of, American and he seemed like a pansy. But then I realised he’s got balls, and he seems to have enough of a grip on you that you’re no longer spreading your legs for anything that breathes.”

There’s a part of Fauna that feels some sort of twisted pride that her father is starting to approve of Sawyer, the words that are coming out of his mouth in many ways disgust her. But that stupid little girl who just wouldn’t give up hope that her Dad would someday be proud of her was jumping up and down that her Dad thought Sawyer could be a good match for her. 

“I am committed to Sawyer.” She confirms for the millionth time, always feeling a little sick when he brought up the idea that she might have sex with anyone else. “And he’s a really, really good Dominant.”

“Hm.” Percy responds as he tucks into his steak. “It’s his future I’m interested in, like I said you two can’t spend your life in that dirty little flat. You need to be looking ahead, and I mean to help with that. You need to keep focusing on uni obviously, and on being a decent submissive. But I can help give him a push in the right direction.”

Fauna has no idea how to respond to this decision making process, because on one hand she wants to try and shield Sawyer from everything that comes along with having Percys attention. But if Percy warming up to Sawyer meant that he might relax on his one strike and you're out policy, then it would help them both sleep a little easier at night. So she doesn’t really say anything for the rest of dinner, he makes a cruel remark about her being greedy when she wants to order dessert, and takes several very underhanded digs at how much Rorys rehab costs which she can’t ignore and has to bite back on. But it’s probably the longest they’ve ever been alone in a very long time. 

When he drops her off back at her apartment he reaches into his wallet, and pulls out a wad of twenties. “Buy yourself a bottle of decent booze.” He instructs. “You should be able to serve something that’s not shite when you have people over.” She has no intention of using the money for that, but she thanks him all the same and gets out of the car without feeling totally like shit for once. Which in turn makes her feel guilty, like she was betraying herself and Rory somehow for not totally hating every second that she spent with Percy. For letting him get away with at least half of what he’d said, Rory would never have sat there passively while he insulted the flat that her and Sawyer worked hard to afford and Sawyers parents who were good hard working people. Yet despite all that he’d said, Fauna considered the meeting to have gone well, and she just didn’t know if that made her a bad person or not. 

Glancing up at the apartment building she could see a light on, and that familiar relief of knowing that she could talk to Sawyer about what was worrying her spread over her body. So without agonising further, she punched in the key code and disappeared out of the rain. Leaving what she could of her guilt and unease behind her. 

#(( the past is talking now ))

[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Kim Taehyung, spotted prancing about in the Southeast Side. I don’t remember seeing him with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say cunning and diplomatic? Apparently now he spends time as a model at Bermuda Entertainment, and keeps skeletons buried at Macheon Hill Gate Community, 501. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, The Fraud; we missed you so.

TW: rape, death

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Taehyung was a popular guy at school, he had a lot of friends and was a social butterfly, accepted and loved by everyone. The handsome guy, who moved to Korea from the UK was kind of the buzz and not to say that every English class turned into a monologue with girls swooning all over him and passing him innocent or dirty notes. He enjoyed all the attention and liked the fact that even if he behaved like a jackass, people still liked him. He kind of pitied this ass-kissing society, but he never really commented upon it. Taehyung had friends, yes, tons. But none of them was a real friend, they would often just hang around him because he was popular and had money. Girls were all over him and eventually it was not hard for him to get a pretty girlfriend at the age of fifteen. Until then, he did not really pay attention to romance or anything else, but once the hormones hit him, he could not help but pick the prettiest girl. He wanted her to like him too, not for his money, but for his personality. Taehyung hardly opened up to anyone, but he opened up to her and showed her that behind a jackass hides a sweet guy. However, she did not appreciated it. Sure, she faked it well, but it took her three months to break his heart. It was after their breakup, when the biggest deal in school happened. His pretty girlfriend was raped by a group of popular boys in school and Taehyung was named as one of them.

Rumours started to spread like fire and Taehyung heard awful comments and names. It was uncertain, if Taehyung was actually one of the culprits but they still named him. In all honesty, Taehyung was indeed there when it happened and he did not do anything. He watched her being punished and he thought it was for the best, since she was so fake. And boy how much he regretted being there. Of course, it did not take long for his parents to find out and start another raging disappointing speech. Taehyung however swore he had nothing to do with it and his parents, as an act of self-defence and face-saving, believed him. They managed to take Taehyung out of trial and he was no longer a suspect or a culprit. Though the rumours did not stop. Gossip Girl named him ‘the fraud’ and explained how she believes he cheated his way out of trial and actually harmed the girl, who was now going to be bruised for life. The rumours died after GG disappeared, however people did not look at him the same way as before. Girls no longer wanted to be involved with him and it took him until graduation to repair his image. He studied hard and actually got unexpected brilliant results during his last year of high school. Everyone pretended to forget what happened and he was once again popular. The past was put aside and for a while nobody remembered the nickname ‘the fraud’.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

In the present, Taehyung attends a long-distance business study at the University of London, as he wants to pursue (or more likely is obliged to pursue) a career in business. After graduation, he flew back to the UK and spent one year there, in hopes that the scandal will be forgotten once he will return. In the UK, he frequently went to his father’s office and would observe how the ‘business’ is done in order to be able to attend a study. One of his father’s friends highly admired Taehyung’s beauty and body-structure, so she suggested that he should to be the new face of the company. His father agreed and Taehyung was invited to a shooting, in order to take pictures for the company’s website and new commercials. Not only did the website explode, but their masculine products flew off of the shelves like warm bread. The new ‘mysterious face’ of the company managed to attract more people than ever before. Taehyung loved the attention and admiration and wanted to continue being a model. His father, as a business man, only saw this as an advantage and opportunity. He suggested that until Taehyung finishes the study, he may work as a model. Taehyung was happy, but he did not want to stay in the UK. He applied for a job in South Korea, without his father’s knowledge. Only one month after, he got an acceptance to work as a model at Bermuda Entertainment and he announced his family that he will leave. His father wanted to object, but as Taehyung told him he will take a long-distance study, he accepted. Three months after, he was accepted for long-distance study and was able to fly back to South Korea.

Taehyung works as a full-time model for clothing for Bermuda Entertainment and is still, to this day, the face of his father’s clothing business in the UK. Once a month, he would get clothes from the UK delivered and he would take a photoshoot with them on, in order to send them back to his father. So not only is he in a long-distance study, he also has kind of two jobs. However, he is satisfied and he enjoys all the love he receives. Though his rebellious side still exists and not only once did he almost destroyed his image. As much as he enjoys attentions, he does not like people meddling in his personal life. During these past years, he had two big scandals, which he barely took out of the media. One: he was caught making out, drunk with a guy in a club (to which he explained it was alcohol, he had a rough time and he wanted to enjoy it) and two: he was accused of alcoholism (which he denied and explained that he only drinks occasionally).

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Kim Taehyung was born on a cold winter day at the end of the year 1995, in Manchester, Great Britain. He was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and no worries whatsoever, with maids and butlers at his service every minute of every day. His parents are both Korean, but due to a job offer his dad got, they moved to the UK in the year 1990 and started a clothing business there. The business emerged quickly and in less than three years his parents got richer than ever. They had their first child in the year 1991, namely Taehyung’s brother Bomsung. In the year 1995, Taehyung followed and just shortly after, in the year 1997, his little sister Jisoo. Taehyung grew up with his siblings and parents always busy or overseas with work. Even so, he had a great childhood and was never lonely. In school his brother Bomsung excelled and had brilliant grades, so did his sister. But Taehyung was always consider an artist, he was often with his head in the clouds and not really into school. He barely passed the first eight years of school and swore every time he got home that he will run away if he has to put up with Math again. Even so, he managed to sustain a certain image and was often obliged by his parents to work harder. What Taehyung hated the most was when he was compared with his siblings, since they always had good results and made their parents proud. Taehyung’s father would often remind him that he is a potential heir in the business and he would not want to give the company just to anyone. Bomsung already had great results and was training to study medicine, Jisoo had great chances to become a chemist, so Taehyung’s parents decided that he must train to take over the business.

At the age of twelve, Taehyung had a middle-child crisis and disappointed his parents. One day, he befriended a group of people, who were considered ‘hooligans’ and would often skip school and spend time on dark alleys doing drugs, drinking alcohol or smoking. Taehyung never slipped into temptation, but he would often steal money from home to borrow it to his friends so that they could have their daily fun. He was accepted quickly into the small group and Taehyung was happy to have a group of friends, who are just as disinterested in school as he was. He was, at that time, not aware how much trouble such a group could bring him. Taehyung was just happy that for once nobody compared him with his brother and he was happy that for once he was the cool kid. One day, they decided to have a little fun and stole the keys of their P.E. teacher’s car, attempting to drive it and park it somewhere else. One of Taehyung’s friends brought his brother along, who was sixteen and therefore allowed to drive, but did not have his licence yet. They all got in the car and the friend’s brother started to drive. He was under the influence of alcohol and did some drugs before stepping inside the car. It happened too fast and Taehyung even to this day only remembers fragments, but he can still clearly hear a shout and an explosion. The car flew from the road straight into a side building and the crashing impact was so big that it killed the driver instantly. Taehyung had a minor head collision and went unconscious the minute the car crashed. Everything from there is missing, he only remembers waking up in the hospital with his brother and sister crying next to his bed. The hit sent him into a two-day coma, but he recovered with a temporary memory loss, including the moment of accident. When he finally woke up, he found out that the driver was dead, so was another friend of his. The younger brother of the driver was still in coma and the youngest friend escaped with a broken leg. The medics found alcohol and drugs inside everyone’s but Taehyung’s system and even if Taehyung’s parents were glad he is alright, they got disappointed and mad at him for being friends with such dangerous and undisciplined children. Taehyung’s father was the most upset and treated Taehyung with even more silence than before from that moment on. Taehyung was emotionally destroyed after the incident and was sent to a psychologist for one year, because he would often wake up screaming and crying.

It took a while for him to recover and his parents decided that the UK would only turn their son into a hooligan, so they sent him away. It was actually for Taehyung’s well-being, but he, even to this day, feels betrayed. He was sent back to South Korea to attend high school and little did his parents know that this rejection would make him worse. At the age of fifteen, he has gone through the drama of his life as he was accused of raping his ex-girlfriend, but luckily got out thanks to his parents. After that he was haunted by memories and by names until his graduation, when everything came back to normal and people started talking with him again and admiring him. However, after graduation, it was hard for him to stay in Korea and he flew back to the UK for one year. His modelling career starts brilliantly and he is able to fly back to South Korea and continue his career, while he is attending a long-distance business study.

#247: accepted

[killing-your-favorite-characters]

The Prince and the Plumber

Summery:  Luigi is the prince of the kingdom, who's been arranged to marry a woman he's never met, while loving another. Mario is a man who dreams to become a hero, if he can ever get out of his debt problems. A chance meeting brings these two men together, and they find themselves on an adventure of a lifetime.

Pairings: Mario/Peach, Luigi/Peasley

A Princess and the Pauper AU, because why not?

Fanfiction Link

AO3 Link

DeviantArt Link

Luigi stood upon the platform, eyes closed tightly as he attempted to stay still. He knew all too well the punishment that came from moving too much, and wasn’t really fond of the idea of being pricked by needles. Again. All around him were people, messing with fabrics, ribbons, and threads in an attempt to piece together the perfect suit. It was a nice suit, but unlike anything Luigi had ever worn, or would pick out for himself. It was the purest shade of white he had ever seen, accented in a few places with black, and it was completely devoid of any shade of green.

It was perfect for his upcoming wedding.

His… Wedding… To a princess of a far off kingdom, a princess he had never met.

The prince sighed, opening his eyes. Ever since his mother agreed to the marriage, Luigi hated the very idea of it. He didn’t want to marry a complete and utter stranger. Yet, it was just another item to add to the list of things he didn’t want to do, but had to.

“Alright, Your Highness,” The head seamstress said, breaking Luigi from his thoughts, “Can you turn to face the mirror?”

Luigi nodded, and did so, staring at his miserable face that looked back at him from the mirror.

“What do you think?” The seamstress asked.

“It is…” not me “Perfect.” He faked a smile, something he’d been doing a lot lately. “I can not imagine anything better.” He could think of a million things that looked better than the white prison he was wearing.

“I’m glad you like it,” The seamstress said, as her underlings packed everything up. “We’ll leave you to get comfortable in it, you do remember how to hang it up, correct?”

“Of course.”

“Then we’ll be dismissed.”

Luigi watched as they left, and once the door was closed Luigi turned. He held his arms up, and forced yet another lopsided grin to grace his lips.

“What do you think, Cagnolino?”

Cagnolino, the polterpup Luigi had adopted as a companion, studied the prince for a moment, before letting out a low growl.

“I thought so.” Luigi sighed, “I wish I did not have to do this.” He admitted, before hopping off the platform. “If it were Princess Daisy I was getting forced to marry, I would feel a little better. Not much, but at least it would not be a stranger. I have never met Princess Peach before, and now I am expected to spend the rest of my life with her.”

Cagnolino whimpered, running over to Luigi to gently rub against his ankles a bit.

“Thanks Buddy,” Luigi smiled, bending a little to pet the ghostly pup. After he was done, Luigi regained his posture and headed over towards the piles of gifts that littered the room.

“Everyone seems so happy for this wedding,” Luigi mused, playing with a tag that featured the familiar handwriting of Princess Eclair. “Everyone that is, except me.” He turned from Eclair’s gift, to land his eyes onto another. For the first time, a genuine smile pulled onto Luigi’s lips. He headed over to it, reaching a hand out to pluck the golden rose from the vase. He held it, as if it were the most precious thing he had ever seen, gently brushing his fingers against the petals.

“If only I had not fallen in love with another,” he mused. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.” He put the rose back into the vase, and straightened his shoulders.

“But no matter how much my heart hurts, I must do it. This is my duty, my role as the prince. And duty means doing the things your heart may soon regret.”

~~~

“Thank you so much Mario.” The princess said, a soft smile on her face as she looked at the hero.

“It was no problem, Princess.” Mario said, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he stared into her beautiful blue eyes. “There is no castle too far, no enemy too tough, that would cause me to not save you. I love you.”

“And I, you.” She smiled, leaning down to give his nose a quick peck.

“Mario!”

The red clad plumber snorted, and opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away as he stared at the face looming over him.

“Blue?”

“Thank goodness! I’ve been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes! Wario and Waluigi are going to be furious if they found out you’ve been sleeping this late!”

“Let them,” Mario muttered, but despite that he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “How many jobs do we have today?”

“A lot, but one of the jobs is easy enough that I can do it myself.” Blue told him, watching as Mario got out of bed. “But we should probably leave soon, before either of the bosses notice we’re-”

“What are you two still doing here?”

Mario and Blue winced, turning towards the doorway.

“I’m not paying you two to lay around in bed all day.” Wario growled.

“You’re not paying us at all.” Mario muttered.

“And I’m not gonna until you pay off every single coin you borrowed from us.” Wario told him. “And from the looks of it, you’re not getting out of here for at least another thirty three years.”

“What? I’ve almost given you half of what I owe you!”

“Did you forget about interest?” Wario smirked. “Shame, should’ve thought about that before you came here on your hands and knees, begging for money.”

“I did it to help my mother!”

“Your mistake.” Wario hummed, before slamming the bedroom door shut.

“Stronzo.” Mario muttered. He glanced over towards his bedside table, to the drawer that held the last letter his mother wrote for him. “But I will pay off this debt, and be free to become the hero I’ve dreamed of becoming. Just you wait.”

Cagnolino-Doggie

Stronzo-Asshole

#super mario #mario #luigi #princess and the pauper #wario #waluigi #blue toad #polterpup #the prince and the plumber