#ive never filled one of these before i was tempted to just add it to the rb ;-; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

Mari Christmas And A Happy New Adrien

Summary:

Lost in the aftermath of Hawkmoth's defeat, Adrien loses complete track of time and before he knows it, the holiday season is upon him. Will a Christmas visit to his girlfriend's house be just what he needs to move on?

Hello and welcome to my piece for the @mlsecretsanta event! My giftee, @lesslinette, asked for among other things, Adrienette, family bonding, fluff and just a bit of hurt/comfort and I aimed to please!

I had to do a good amount of research into French and Chinese Christmas traditions (including interviewing my long-suffering French friend - thanks @emsylcatac!), so hopefully I didn't get anything *too* wrong.

Read on Ao3

Enjoy!

Marinette 💖: You still up?

Adrien: Yeah Still not sleeping great House was always too quiet Never thought it could get more quiet tho lol Whats up?

Marinette 💖: :( Just wondering what u were doing 4 xmas Since You know

Adrien: Since father went to jail and mom died again? Haven’t thought about it Guess ive still got time to figure it out

Marinette 💖: … ..Its the 23rd of Dec Like 2am Not a lot of time left

Adrien: oh Guess uh Stay at home?

Marinette 💖: Adrien Its been like two months Youve been going crazy in there Youll just be stuck in there all by yourself Why don’t you come over?

Adrien: I don’t know… I don’t want to bring anyone down Or ruin anyone’s christmas

Marinette 💖: Adrien ‘Kindest Boy in Paris’ Agreste

Adrien: Oh no she used my middle name

Marinette 💖: You are coming over tomorrow And letting me pamper you And letting my family - your REAL family - love you And that is the end of that ...Is that okay with you?

Adrien: Whatever you say ma’am

Marinette 💖: Good Be here no later than fifteen hundred Let me know if I need to pick you up

Adrien: Will do

Adrien laid back down, his face lit up only by the glow of his phone and the only noise in the room being Plagg’s snoring. Putting his phone to sleep, he turned over, closed his eyes, and honestly smiled for what felt like the first time in a long time.

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

Adrien reached the door to his girlfriend’s house with a gift under one arm, an envelope in his pocket, and a weak smile on his face. The latter wasn’t because of a lack of feeling on his part - the exact opposite, actually.

It had been hard to go to sleep after their conversation that night, a swirl of mixed emotions keeping him from getting the rest that he craved. Last night wasn’t much better and he was left exhausted. He’d even been half tempted to call and say that he couldn’t make it, but somehow that only made him feel worse.

So here he was. He’d shambled his way to the car, driven himself there through blurry eyes and frequent yawns, and turned the doorknob. Maybe they’d understand if he just dropped off the present and headed home.

Well, maybe not home, but just where he lived.

The instant the door opened, a wave of hot air buffeted him. Not only did it warm his freezing face, it brought all sorts of wonderful smells on it. There were the expected scents - baked potatoes, salmon, chicken. But then was something else, something a little harder to place.

After puzzling over it for a moment, he shook his head and stepped into the house. No sooner had he closed the door behind him than he heard some voices calling out from deeper inside.

“Wait, was that the door? The family wasn’t supposed to be over until tomorrow, weren’t they?”

“Tom, that has to be Adrien!”

There was excitement in Sabine’s voice that warmed his heart, but not quite as much as when he’d taken a couple steps into the house and was blindsided by Marinette bursting out of the living room to wrap him in a hug.

“Worried I might not show?” Adrien whispered after they parted from their kiss.

“Not even for a moment, chaton.” She smiled up at him before her eyes wandered down to his arms, a suspicious look on her face when she saw the one present. “Looks like you showed some restraint this year.”

“Of course!” At her continued doubting look, he added. “Come on, I’m perfectly capable of giving reasonable gifts.”

“Last year you tried to give me my favorite restaurant.”

“But I didn’t!”

“Only because I hid your checkbook and credit cards!”

Adrien snorted. “Details.”

Rolling her eyes, Marinette tugged on his coat sleeve. “Follow me, you ridiculous man. You can put your gifts under the tree, we’ll open them tomorrow.”

She led him into the living room, where their Christmas tree had been set up in all its glory. There were red paper chains wrapped all around it and a huge variety of homemade ornaments - including a few that he’d made in years past. Ever since he and Marinette had started dating, he’d been welcomed into their household with open arms. And even before that, they’d been nothing but kind to him.

His eyes poured over the tree, looking for one specific ornament. It didn’t take him long to find it - with its poor quality, it stood out among the beautiful glass orbs and painted baubles. His fingers brushed over the patches of glitter, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face as he took in the patterns of melted wax inside it. His first ornament. They’d barely been dating a few months when he’d made that one.

Had it really been four years already?

Arms wrapped around him from the side and he looked down at Marinette’s chin resting on his shoulder, peering up at him with big blue eyes.

“What’re you thinking about, hot stuff?”

“Old memories, that’s all.”

“Hmm…” She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You just about ready to make some new ones?”

“With you? Always.”

“You two want to come in and help us finish cooking dinner?” They both jumped when Sabine’s voice reached them.

Blushing, Marinette reluctantly let Adrien go and headed toward the kitchen. “Coming, maman!”

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

A few hours later and the four of them were seated around the dining room table. Some things had been moved around from what Adrien remembered from the usual arrangement, and a long table had been set up. Most of the spaces were empty - with the four of them, only about a third of the table was occupied. But while the chairs were mostly left bare, the table was not.

Even though he had helped make some of it, Adrien was still amazed at how good the food all looked when laid out on the table like this.

Most of it was pretty traditional, at least from what he knew. A lot of the time his experience with Christmas dinners were meals allowed to grow cold until he gave up on his father showing. But the roasted chicken was still steaming when they cut into it, the smoked salmon and toast still holding the heat of the oven on them. Add in the gratin dauphinois and this was just about the ideal Christmas dinner he could imagine.

Naturally, it got even better with Sabine’s contribution - spring rolls.

As Adrien shoveled them onto his plate, he asked Sabine, “Is this the only Chinese dish for today, maman?”

“Just you wait, dear.” She smiled over her plate. “Today was Tom’s turn to make dinner. Tomorrow will be mine and you’ll definitely have your fill then.”

“I can’t wait!” Adrien took some of the chestnut sauce to pour over his chicken. Which reminded him… He glanced nervously toward the oven. “I don’t suppose you made foie gras, did you?”

Marinette made a face and shivered.

Tom quickly shook his head. “Oh no, son. Back when Marinette was… what? Eight, nine? She found out how it was made and made us promise to never have it again.”

“Eleven years later and we haven’t broken that promise yet,” Sabine finished. “There are plenty of other foods in the world.”

“That’s good.” Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. “It always made me uncomfortable when my father ordered it.”

“Ordered, dear?” Sabine gave him a confused look.

“Oh, we never really cooked our own dinners.”

Tom’s jaw dropped. “Not even Christmas dinner?”

“Nope. Sometimes he’d have to order the dinner prepared the day before and then we’d reheat it the day of, since no one wanted to come into work on Christmas day, you know?”

“I see…” Tom shared a look with Sabine, but the meaning was lost on Adrien. “Well, you make sure you have your fill, son! We’ll be making more for tomorrow, so this is all for us.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said with a grateful smile.

The conversation meandered and for the most part Adrien was just content to listen in, drinking in the company after spending so much of his time recently just by himself. Well, mostly by himself. Marinette would visit whenever she could get the time between college classes and internships. Nino and Alya were more elusive, if only because they were outside the city so often these days.

But there was one person who was his constant companion, Adrien thought with a smile as he peeked into the breast pocket of his T-shirt…

...Only to see that it was empty. Maybe he’d gone to visit Tikki and the kwamis of the miracle box? Adrien was drawn out of his thoughts when Sabine directed a question at him.

“Are you ready for the pre-dessert snacks, dear?”

“Oh! Sure, yeah. What do you have?”

“You’ll love it!” Tom excitedly got up and hustled over to the kitchen, Sabine right behind him. He raised his voice to be heard as he went to the room next door. “We know how much you love camembert so…”

Adrien’s eyes widened. They didn’t…

Tom returned with a platter of cheeses in his hands and a frown on his lips.

“Something wrong, papa?” Marinette’s eyes glanced between Tom and the cheese platter.

“No, no… its just… I could have sworn I bought more cheese than this. And I was so sure that I had purchased camembert.” He rubbed his chin. “Ah well, there is more than enough for the three of us anyway.”

While Sabine set down a large bowl of salad in the middle of the table, Adrien glanced at Marinette. At his side, Marinette was biting her lips and pointedly staring into the middle distance, trying her hardest not to laugh. For his part, Adrien was frustrated that he couldn’t go anywhere without Plagg making a noticeable dent in the food supply.

His annoyance with Plagg was so great he almost didn’t enjoy the Yule Log that Tom had made for dessert. Almost, but not quite.

Once they were done with dinner, they cleared the table.

“So, how’d you like the meal?” Marinette asked as she dried off the dishes while Adrien washed them.

“Definitely better hot. And homemade.”

Marinette chuckled. “I’m glad the bar was so high for us. Really makes us feel like we accomplished something here.”

“How about…” Adrien bit down on his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought. “It was the most delicious meal I’ve had in months.”

“Ooo, now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Years even.”

“Good, good, go on.”

“I had never known food could taste so delicious until you graced me with your heavenly meals.”

Marinette’s eyes gleamed with restrained laughter, the hint of a barely contained smile ruining her deadpan. “Glad I could finally weasel how you really feel out of you.”

“Yeah you’re pretty good at that, aren’t you?” Hands still in the sink’s soapy water, he leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“No fooling around now, we still have to help put up the last decorations before we relax for the night.”

“What sort of decorations?”

“Paper lanterns and paper chains. That sort of thing.” At Adrien’s politely confused look, she added, “It’ll help make mom’s side of the family feel welcome. Plus they look pretty cool.”

“Well what are we waiting for then? Let’s kick this into overdrive!”

Adrien suddenly worked in a flurry, Marinette scream laughing as she got splashed with some of the water thrown up by his breakneck pace. Marinette could barely keep up between her giggling, but she somehow managed.

With the last fork, plate, and glass sparkling clean and put away, Marinette shook her head and dabbed at her slightly damp shirt with a fresh towel.

“You’re a dork, you know that?”

“So my girlfriend tells me.”

Adrien relished the sometimes quiet, sometimes loud evening he spent with the Dupain-Chengs. When he went upstairs and cuddled Marinette in the cozy darkness, Adrien felt only excitement for the next day

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

Morning came swiftly, but Adrien rose to meet the dawn’s first light with a smile on his lips and a spring in his step. Marinette was… a little less eager, but he managed to coax her out of the bed, eventually.

When they finally got down the stairs and made it to the kitchen, Sabine’s eyes widened and she even froze in the middle of folding one of her dumplings.

“Marinette? I’m surprised to see you up so early.”

Bleary eyed, her daughter simply jabbed a finger toward Adrien and grunted. Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled.

“I knew you’d be a good influence on her, sweetie.” Sabine patted his cheek with a warm smile. “Now, once you’ve had some breakfast I’d really appreciate some help out here. From you especially, Marinette, since you know exactly how to do it the way I like it.”

“Can’t Tom help?” Adrien made some toast for him and Marinette, doing his best to stay out of Sabine’s way. “Not that I’m not willing to lend a hand, but he’s got to be pretty good at it after all this time, right?”

Sabine laughed and even Marinette cracked a smile. “You’d think so, but no. The man can make almost any dessert known to French mankind, but I’ve yet to see him finish one spring roll or dumpling in all our years of marriage. Just about the only thing I’m trusting him with today is the roasted pork.”

“Not even the cheese plate?” Adrien asked, tongue in cheek. To his surprise, Sabine shook her head gravely.

“We don’t make one for Christmas day. After all, everyone that is going to be here is from my side of the family and we’re all lactose intolerant.”

“Oh.” Adrien glanced at Marinette, who shrugged.

“I got lucky and got papa’s tolerance for it, I guess.”

“Huh… well, can I help?”

A few hours passed, most of which Adrien spent doing vital but unskilled cooking like stirring and kneading. Although they did let him try to fold a few dumplings. It ended up nowhere near as well done as Marinette’s, but she still gave him a kiss on the cheek for the good effort. From what he gathered, Tom had never even managed to get it to stay together.

They had just put the last batch in the oven when they heard a knock at the door, Sabine quickly taking off her apron as she rushed to answer it.

Adrien’s ears perked up when he heard a conversation in Chinese start up, but between him being a little rusty and them speaking so fast, he couldn’t pick out much.

A few moments later, Sabine walked back into the room with an older Chinese couple. Marinette pulled him towards them. Sabine put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and introduced them.

“Adrien, these are my parents. My mother, Ling,” she said, gesturing towards the grey-haired woman currently hugging Marinette. “And my father, Zheng.”

The older man’s grey eyes sparkled with excitement as he held out a red envelope for Adrien, who just now noticed that Marinette had also been given one. He froze, eyes widening. Was he supposed to have gotten them something too? He hadn’t realized that anyone would be getting him anything, except maybe Marinette. There was a moment where he was about to decline but he took a shot in the dark and accepted.

The moment his hand touched the envelope, Zheng spoke in Mandarin, “Best wishes for the New Year!”

“Thank you very much!” Adrien replied automatically in the same language. While the finer points might escape him, Adrien was fluent in niceties.

Zheng’s eyes widened before he nodded sagely to himself. “Ahh, I see you’ve picked up some Mandarin from my daughter, yes?”

“Oh, no, sir. I’ve been studying since I was fourteen.”

Once again, Zheng’s eyes widened before he chuckled and looked knowingly at Marinette. “This one is definitely a keeper! I approve.”

Marinette’s cheeks were almost as red as the envelope, but she still smiled.

The bright, enticing red of the envelope made him want nothing more than to open it right then and there. But Adrien took a nod from Marinette, who had very pointedly left it sealed even as she refused to set it down. He chose to follow her lead as they all made their way to the living room.

While the Dupain-Cheng parents and the Cheng parents were getting settled there, Marinette volunteered them to go make some tea. Once they were in the kitchen and out of earshot of the new arrivals, Adrien held up his envelope with a raised eyebrow and curious look.

“You can go ahead and look at it now, it’s just not polite to do it right when you get it.” She carefully unsealed the envelope. “It's this Chinese tradition - good luck money for the new year, you know?”

Adrien followed her lead and found one ten, one twenty, and one fifty euro note inside. Glancing over, it seemed Marinette got the same. He was half tempted to just give her his euros since he didn’t have any need for it, but decided that might be tacky. If she would even take them at all. After stashing the envelopes away in a kitchen drawer, they came back with tea for everyone.

Over the next few hours, more and more family members funneled into the house. Adrien, used to seeing maybe four people during the holiday season, thought the room would be close to bursting after the first aunt arrived with husband and two kids in tow. But then came the uncle and his family, then the second aunt with her boyfriend and by the end of it fifteen people were packed into the living room. For some reason apples in boxes became involved? Adrien thought that was a pun but that was more his pun sense than his linguistic skill.

Before anyone could get too settled in, they finally got to opening presents. Despite his fears from the red envelope, no one else seemed to have gotten Adrien anything.

At least, none of the extended family had. The Dupain-Cheng family, however…

“Here you go, dear.” While the rest of the room was chattering among themselves, Sabine placed a package about as big as a shoebox on Adrien’s lap. Before he could react to it, Marinette had shoved a bag stuffed with packing paper.

“Let me go get your-”

Adrien felt a tug on his arm and looked down at Marinette seated beside him. “Open your gifts first and then we’ll open the ones you got us.”

“Okay, okay.” Adrien looked at the box on his lap and tore it open. He tilted his head in confusion as he lifted the fabric that he found there out of the box. His eyes widened when he realized it was an apron with ‘Kiss the Chef’ on it.

“Its for when you come over to cook with us!” Tom beamed down at him proudly. “Now you don’t need to borrow our aprons any more - you’ll have one of your very own!”

Adrien felt his eyes get misty and he bit his lips to keep himself from crying. After a few moments of pulling himself together, he managed to say, “Thank you, guys. I’m really looking forward to wearing it!”

“Speaking of…” Marinette prodded the bag she left with him.

“Right, right.”

Adrien removed the paper and pulled out what turned out to be a sweater, cream colored and decorated with mistletoes and black cats in red scarves. It felt amazingly soft as he slipped it on over his head, embraced in a warm hug that - he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a deep breath - yes, smelled exactly like Marinette. For now at least.

“Do you like it?” Instead of replying, Adrien wrapped his arms around Marinette and pulled her close to him, nuzzling his nose against her neck. Giggling, she smacked his arms lightly. “I’ll take that as a yes, now let go!”

After he pulled his arms back, he stood up and stepped between the Cheng family members and made it to the tree before heading back to the little corner of the living room that they had claimed. He passed the envelope to Tom and the box to Marinette.

“A… gift card for an appliance store?” Tom said, his brow furrowing.

“I wanted to get you an actual new stove because you’re always upset at it,” Adrien explained in a rush, feeling embarrassed that his gift felt so… impersonal compared to theirs. “But when I went to the store I had no idea what actually made a good stove and searching it up on the internet only made it more confusing and… yeah,” he finished lamely.”

He glanced up at them and felt better to see them smiling back.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Adrien! Thank you, we’ll make good use of this.”

Beside him, Marinette began opening her gift, which Adrien was much more excited for. Not because he had spent any less for it, but because that at least he knew exactly what to get.

He knew he’d done good when she gasped as she pulled out the expensive fabric she’d once stared at longingly from the otherside of a store’s window in Paris. Which, of course, meant that he was also expecting the smack on his arm from her as well.

“Adrien! This is expensive! You definitely shouldn’t have bought this.”

“Actually, you’ll remember that I get to spoil you exactly three times a year - birthdays, Valentine’s, and Christmas.” He gave her the most innocent look he could manage. “So you like it then?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know I absolutely love it, you cat.”

“Then that’s great!” He continued with the overly chipper and oblivious tone, knowing how much it bugged her. He rubbed his hands together. “So… when’s dinner?”

-----------

After a Christmas dinner packed with Chinese dishes, they slowly returned to the living room.

Adrien sat in a corner of the room, taking in the warm and inviting atmosphere, the excitement and energy of so many people gathered together in such a small space.

Holding Marinette close, Adrien felt like he was part of a real family for the first time in a long time.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #Love Square #Tom Dupain #Sabine Cheng #ml secret santa exchange #my writing #Mari Christmas and a Happy New Adrien

206 notes · View notes

badatjokezz · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe....

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

#oisuga #kurotsuki #oikawa x sugawara #kuroo x tsukishima #iwasuga #iwaizumi x sugawara #ushijima x oikawa #ushioi #atsunoya #haikyuu!!#fic recs

122 notes · View notes

consultingsister-aa · 3 years

Note

five times kissed / bash ( any verse )

this meme for: @theasteriae verse: happy verse

Celia has never seriously dated before. There were boys but they had little to no interest in getting to know her. They just wanted to fuck her. People were always saying she was too pretty for her own good and she was starting to think that was true.

Only Basher Moran didn’t seem that bothered about how pretty she was. Although she assumed, that was what drew him to her in the first place. It was silly and unrealistic to say otherwise and she certainly fancied him from the moment she saw him. It had nothing to do with her laugh and everything to do with his jawline. It wasn’t true anymore now.

It had been one of the best summers of her life. She could hardly believe she had been tempted to turn Alex down, to return to Surrey, alone and melancholy. Sherlock has said he would come up but would have likely cancelled last minute. Cee has never spent so much time with people apart from at school and it took a while to get used to all the sibling and cousin dynamics. It was like something from one of her books; The Chronicles of Narnia or The Famous Five. They all had inside jokes and pet names and moved around each other like a choreographed dance. She knew her bothers well enough but she rarely had to deal with a cramped kitchen and sharing bedrooms. They knew each other differently than the Morans.

It had been a fantasy of hers to live like this. When she was young and it was just her alone in that big house, she would daydream about having lots of brother’s and sister’s and cousins to play with. Adventures at the beach; caves and pirate treasure. She imagined herself into their childhood and al of a sudden, felt a lump in her throat. It was more than jealousy; it was something like grief. Greif for that lonely little girl who would always aways be alone.

“What’s up?” Bash interrupted her thoughts. Clearly, her state of mind has shown on her face.

“Nothing. I’m just a little sad to go back to school after all this.”

Bash sighed knowingly, turning back to look out over the water. Even though she had come with Alex, Celia was spending more and more time on the beach with Bash. They sat in the dunes, a blanket around their shoulders, watching the sun fall into the freezing water. Even in the height of summer, the water was freezing. “Yeah, I’ll miss the beach,” he agrees.

She turns to look at his profile, shoulder bumping into his. “I’ll miss you.” She didn’t quite mean you individually, she meant you as a family, but she was glad he took it that way.

He turned to look at her and then leant in to kiss her for the first time, both their heads moving in the opposite way so they didn’t bump noses, as if it has been rehearsed. Cee had never been kissed like that before but it was almost exactly how the songs and books and poems described it. It was like seeing fireworks. But perhaps more wonderfully, when he kissed her like that, she didn’t feel so alone.

II.

It had felt like a long time since that first kiss, although it has only been seven years. In the prospect of a lifetime together, that was short. But she couldn’t help but think about that moment, as she stood at the waters edge, champagne glass in hand, breathing deeply in the cool evening air. Behind her, her specially built carnival glows, reflecting in the dark waters.

She’s changed from her wedding dress into a short ballet style tutu skirt, which stopped a little north of where her father, new husband and aunt-in-law might have liked. Long legs end in bare feet and she lets the water lap up against her ankles.

“Hey, Mrs Moran-- there about twenty million people wanting to see you back there.”

She turns back with a smile, just in time to see Bash - messy hair, jacket long gone, shirt sleeved rolled up - before he wraps his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss into the side of her face. “There are not twenty million people, you’re such a drama queen.”

He laughs. She does too. Then they relax into silence and both watch the waves. After a moment, Cee begins to cry.

“Hey, hey,” Bash moves to turn her round, concern on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing-- I’m just-- I’m just so--”

“What? Oh god, you’re regretting it already. I said, if you weren’t ready, that we could--”

“Happy!” Cee interupsts him with laugh, “Bash, I’m happy. I am so happy.”

He looks so relived, it only makes Cee laugh again; more happy tears spilling onto her cheeks. He pulls her close, a deep kiss, just them. Maybe the big party was too much. She was danced out; talked out; laughed out. She just wanted this. And the best bit was, she had it, and she had it forever.

III.

“Twins!?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

Cee can tell the nurse wasn’t expecintg that reaction from her, but she couldn’t care less. One more baby was enough of a shock, but two more? She looks over at Bash, who’s grinning and offers a look as if to say ‘what are you smiling about, you bastard’.

“I am very serious Mrs Moran. You can see one heart beat here,” the nurse points to a black mass on the monitor, “and the second,” another black mass, “here.” Cee will just have to take her word for it. She got very upset when she couldn’t see what the nurse was talking about with Beua but she’s over it this time. She’s already over being pregnant this time and now it’s just going to be two times worse? Well, it was always two times worse but now she knows about it. “I’ll leave this up and give you a minute,” the nurse smiles at the parents and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Cee’s face is full of panic.

“What?” Bash moves into the side of the hospital bed, taking Cee’s hand in his.

“What do you mean, what? Bash-- I can’t handle three kids. You’re away all the time. I didn’t even know if I could do two but three babies? I’m out of my depth here.”

“So what are you saying? You want to-- not--”

“No, no, I’m just-- it’s a lot, Bash. Twins. That’s twice the baby!”

“And you,” now he moves his hands to her face. Eye contact is key with Cecelia, pyshical contact and looking her in the eye. “Are twice the woman. You can do this. You can do anything.”

Cee takes a calming breath and nods. “I love you,” she manages and leans forward to kiss him softly, just in time for the door to reopen. They never get a moments peace anymore.

IV.

Celia closes the bedroom door very gentle behind her. It feels like having babies again; a house full she doesn’t want to wake up. Bash just smiles up at her, taking off his glasses. He’s only been in the job four hours and he’s already bringing work to bed.

“Do they love their new rooms?”

Celia pulls an apoletic look, pulling off her dressing gown. “Immy says she wants to go home.”

“To Suffolk?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s knows she’s now living in Downing Street, right?”

“You know that a ten year old could not care less, right?”

Bash just laughs, laying his arm out over her pillows so she can snuggle in next to him. For a moment, they just sit there, head leant back against the headboard, drinking it all in. They had been working towards this for over ten years and now? The real work was just beginning. She can already feel her eyes getting heavy. “You’re happy here though, right?”

“Mm,” she hums. She’s not sure yet. Suffolk is her home, more than she ever though it would be. It was where the boys all grew up, their childhood rooms even though they were all grown up and out the house now. It was where Immy was born, where they played capture the flag and five aside football when the rest of the family came over.

Downing Street might be a symbol of how far they had come, but it wasn’t home and she doubted, no matter how long they were here, it would ever feel like one. She already had plans to nip back to Suffolk the first weekend they could. “Yeah, this is what we’ve wanted for so long. We just need to settle into it.” Cee looks up to Bash, smiling at the fine lines already marking his face. But his eyes look the same as they did when he kissed her for that very first time on the beach. He’s so good to her, always.

She kisses him, the sort of kiss they haven’t had in a while. Five kids, two demanding careers and a whole country wanting his attention tends to lead to pecks of affection and quickies whenever they can get it. But they have a moment now. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, lips still touching his. “I’m so proud of us. For everything, not just this job. I love you.”

They had been in rooms like this so many times over the years. The bad lighting, the round tables, the stage. Only, rarely for her. She had, happily, she wanted to add, taken a back seat for most of her life. Her skillset was better suited to a life of support and planning; organising and committing herself to the task at hand. Whether they was her husband’s career, or her children’s lives. How could she call them children now though? Immy sat next to her, one arm lazily draped across her own baby bump, the other reached out to hold her mother’s hand.

All heads had turned to the stage as a larger man in a ill-fitting suit took to the podium. His welcome speech was short and sweet, something Cee appreciated. She had told anyone who she could that she wasn’t bothered; even to be nominated was an honour but she was bothered. Her stomach swam with anxiety in a way it hadn’t done in years.

“And the winner, of the twenty-forty-eight Booker Prize goes to... Cecelia Holmes.”

The table around her, well dressed and well mannered, rose with celebration; clapping together hands together and whooping. Immy kissed her cheek, Beua was quick to follow but she wouldn't get around them all. Although, she couldn’t forget one of them.

Bash had sat across from her for most of the night. Although it was her night, it was also the first time in months all the family had been together in one place. Well, not all the family. You could fill the whole room with all the family. They were on stand-by, waiting for the news. They could have a party anyway, Immy had said, but they’d take down the banners if she didn’t win, though she suspected they wouldn’t have to. That had made Cee laugh. All the family tonight mean the six kids. Beua, Cass, Edmund, Perc, Immy and Hugo, ranging in ages from early forties, to twenty-two. Her children. Fuck the books, these wonderful, clever, funny, thoughtful kids were the best thing she had ever done with her life. And it was all thanks to Bash. They had caught each others eyes all night and it had made her feel young again. Like when they used to catch each other eyes over the dinner table at Nettle Cottage.

She was aware there was a room full of people waiting for her but she was hungry for the kiss. Her hands reached for his face and she wasn’t that surprised to see a tear in his eye. “I’m so proud of you,” Bash managed, although years of shouting in Westminster had left his voice a little hoarse. She kissed him again, although she could feel the ever secible and dependable Beua trying to take her arm towards the stage.

“Of us,” Cee corrected him, before allowing her oldest son to resort her to the edge of the stage. She hadn’t prepared a speech but she thought she might mention that first kiss, under a tartan blanket, on a beach in Suffolk that inspired a lifetime of literary work.

#theasteriae #( i. message )#( i. save )#( vi. ceebastian )#( v. happy verse )

11 notes · View notes

atlas-arc · 3 years

Note

Thank you so much for the TA scrbbled ink! It is perfect! And as I'm greedy here my next idea (no pressure!).. It's him to first notice that you needed glasses by the way you squint and ask him if he can read the letters, it's him to remind you to wear them though you hate them😁

a/n: ah you’re so welcome hun! keep ‘em coming. i love indulging in the scribbled ink au 🥺 so I was going to like.. actually write this but my brain didnt feel like cooperating so um.. here's a fic in bullet point form?? hopefully thats okay! also ive never dealt with seasons in my life so im really just winging it with the temperatures here 😂

he gets suspicious when he notices you squinting at the take out menus with increased frequency

the fact that you're complaining about your eyes hurting is adding to his suspicion

you also keep passing stuff to him to read for you...

not that he minds! But y'know, he's seeing you struggle and he doesn't like that

you're squinting at your laptop with your email open on maximum zoom and he thinks now's a good time to.. pop the question, so to speak

"Hey babe?" you hum in response, only partially paying attention. "Do you think you might need glasses?"

you stare at him like he's grown another head

"No. That's ridiculous. I can see perfectly fine! I've just been staring at a screen for too many days in a row."

neither of you believes it but he lets it drop.. for now

a week later you're both out and about and you very nearly get on the wrong train because you're in a rush and couldn't read the signs properly

Marcus is tugging you in the right direction while flashing you an 'i told you so' look

you schedule your appointment the next day

no, you absolutely do not rehearse what you're going to say at least 5 times before actually making the call. nope, not at all. didn't happen.

and you totally don't pick up the phone and walk away from it several times before actually hitting ‘call’

Marcus thinks it's cute but makes no move to step in and help. The bastard. (In his defence, he has an assignment to complete)

anyway, you make the call, go to your appointment and a week later, you're picking up your new glasses

for the first week or so, the world is ever so slightly warped as your eyes adjust to the prescription

you almost tripped down the stairs within the first hour of wearing them

Marcus holds your hand anytime a staircase comes into view now

you're not a fan of the glasses, to say the least.

you always forget to put them on in the morning and he ends up bringing them to you along with your coffee

you leave them somewhere as you do your routine ‘im ignoring my work while walking around the apartment aimlessly’ and then end up spending hours searching the apartment cuz you can't see

Marcus is half tempted to get you one of those glasses neck chords as a joke

he gets zach to add it to his sippy cup package

but seriously. How do people live with these things?

you can't pull an impromptu 'im gonna shove my nose into the crook of your neck because it cold' without getting dirt onto your glasses anymore??

they fog up when you move from the warmth of your apartment into the not-warm-at-all outdoors??

you can't comfortably lie sideways anymore???

Though you must admit, it a very cute hair accessory

"Nice headband," Marcus says as he catches you squinting at your laptop again. "Pretty sure they make the words on your screen less like smudges and more like letters if you put them over your eyes though."

You stick your tongue out at him but move them over your eyes nonetheless

...turns out they work better when they're used 'correctly'

despite all the teasing, he does actually love the new glasses look

he's thanking every higher power there is that his portraits class didn't have strict rules on his portfolio because he's filling most of those slots with sketches of you and your new glasses

#scribbled ink #marcus pike x reader #i dont remember how the tags on this blog works anymore but oh well #also im sorry this doesnt have an ending #i dont even have a reason im just not a proper writer 😂#with no planning skills what so ever #anyways thank you for requesting!

26 notes · View notes

mendespideys · 4 years

Text

the intern ▿ pt. IV

Pairing: reader x ceo!tom holland

Summary: you’re finishing your last year of university in london, and what better way do to that than with an internship at holland and osterfield’s?

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, partying. also tom being a cheeky bastard

a/n: i received a message about this chapter not working because of inappropriate content and it turns out that it was flagged. i have no idea why and i want you guys to be able to read it, so i’m reposting it. this is not the re-written part, but those will be up soon!

You groggily sit up in your bed at the sound of the front door slamming shut. The light shines through your blinds, and you realize it’s more than likely later than you had first assumed. Throwing the covers off your body, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and make your way out to the living room of the small apartment.

Cecelia is in the kitchen, her heels and purse scattered on the floor, as she pushes the button on the coffee machine. You yawn, your bare feet padding against the hardwood floors as you walk closer to her. Grabbing a hair tie from the counter, you quickly wrap your hair into a messy bun, sitting down on the bar stool.

“How did your night go?”

She turns around to look at you, a wide grin plastered on her face. You chuckle, picking at the flaking nail polish on your thumb. You watch as she adjusts her dress before leaning on the counter, getting ready to recap her entire night for you whether you want to hear it or not.

“Despite my head killing me, it went very well,” she starts, her eyes meeting yours. “But I wanna hear about yours. How did you get home if you didn’t have your wallet on you?”

You groan, looking at her pleadingly. She just shakes her head, determined to get the story out of you. As soon as you had texted her last night to let her know you had gotten home safe, you knew she was going to ask the moment she saw you. You had hoped she would be too drunk to remember, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Tom.”

Her eyes widen at the same time the machine beeps, signaling that the coffee is ready. “Tom? Your ‘one-night stand turned internship boss’ Tom? Ooh, do tell.” She pours herself a cup of coffee, a gleeful expression on her face, which makes you want to punch it away.

“I called him. He picked me up and took me home. There’s nothing more to the story,” you shrug innocently, hoping your lie is solid enough because there had been way more to the story.

“Hello?” Tom’s voice is hoarse it crackles through the receiver on your new phone. He’s silent for a second before continuing, sounding more awake now. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You sigh softly, hating how comforting his voice sounds. “Um, hi, Tom. Did I wake you? I’m really sorry- I just, uh,” you stutter, trying desperately to stop your teeth from chattering.

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

You tell him the cross streets and he promises he will be there as soon as possible. You wrap your arms around yourself, attempting to keep the little body warmth you had left. You consider going back inside to wait, but the loud music and drunk teens seem less tempting than the sobering cold. Several young adults join you, but they quickly jump in taxis or friend’s cars. Next time I’m bringing a jacket, you think to yourself, watching as a car pulls up to the curb next to you.

The passenger window rolls down, and Tom’s face appears, looking at you with concerned eyes. You ignore him, jumping into the car, welcoming the warmth with open arms. You kick your heels off, curling your legs in your seat to warm them. The window rolls back up as you buckle in, still not looking at Tom, scared of what might await if you do.

“Are you fucking crazy? What are you doing out here, in the cold, dressed like- dressed like that?”

“Forgot my wallet,” you mumble weakly, leaning your head against the door and closing your eyes. “Can you just drive me home, please? It’s freezing.”

You can hear him rummage around briefly, but you don’t have to open your eyes to investigate because two seconds later, soft indie rock fills the car. He doesn’t say anything, just putting the car in drive and as the car moves, you feel the exhaustion of the long day take over. You can’t bring yourself to stop it, the quiet music and steady heat lulling you to sleep.

The sound of a car door being shut wakes you up. You moan quietly, not wanting to open your eyes. The car beeps as it gets locked, and you sigh contently, nuzzling further into the comfort surrounding you. Your head hurts already, and you know you’re going to have a long day tomorrow.

“Darlin’, I need you to tell me what floor you’re on,” Tom’s gentle voice makes your eyes shoot open, suddenly realizing what is going on.

“Second. 2B,” you mumble, lying undeniable still as Tom carries you effortlessly up the stairs, your bare legs slung over his arm. “I, um, I can walk.”

Tom doesn’t say anything, placing you down gently when you reach the door of your apartment. You don’t dare look at him as you search through your purse, a small aha escaping you as you grasp the keys and pull them out. You unlock the door, the click of the lock turning echoing through the empty hallway. Reluctantly, you turn to look at your savior.

“Thank you,” your voice is raspy, so you clear your throat. “I’m really sorry I woke you up.”

Tom hands you your heels back, shoving his hands into the pocket of his sweats. Another look you hadn’t seen on him, but one you knew you could grow to love. You take them, shooting him a small smile, but he just nods.

“’s alright. Just don’t go outside by yourself like that again. I’ll see you on Monday. Night.”

You watch quietly as he walks back down the stairs, the hood of his sweater bouncing. You mumble a response, fully knowing he can’t hear you. Sighing, you step into the dark apartment. Two minutes later, you’re wrapped in the covers on your bed, willing yourself not to think about how Tom had immediately responded to your call of help, or how he had carried you upstairs, letting you sleep for as long as possible. Eventually, you’re able to fall back asleep, the smell of Tom still lingering in your nose.

“So he just picked you up and dropped you off? Nothing else happened? Bollocks!”

“I swear, nothing happened. He drove me home, carried me upstairs and then he left.”

“He carried you upstairs?”

You groan, realizing your mistake too late. Cecelia raises her eyebrows multiple times, teasing you. You shake your head, picking up your phone from the counter. Turning it around, the screen lights up at the motion, and you notice you have an unopened text message. Your pulse immediately quickens when you see his name.

“Shut up,” you mutter, a small chuckle escaping you as well, knowing she means well.

Let me know if you ever forget your wallet again. I’ll add chauffeur to my resume

Cecelia notices your sudden silence, grabbing the phone from your hands before you can stop her. You watch her as her eyes trace the words of the simple text. She whistles, handing you the phone back before taking another sip of coffee. You pull your leg up on the chair, resting your head on your knee.

Fuck you, Tom Holland.

“He just loves teasing you, doesn’t he? Cheeky bastard that one.”

XXX

You had left the text unanswered the rest of the weekend, having no clue what to say to him. He hadn’t followed up on it either, so you figured the whole situation would remain a secret between the two of you - well, three if you count Cecelia.

You desperately hope so as you enter the building of Holland and Osterfield’s on Monday morning. As you walk up the stairs, you re-read the email you had received from Harrison late the previous night. You double check the information and the time, nodding pleasingly when you realize you’re on time. You stop on the third floor this time, taking in the unfamiliar environment. You stop in front of the meeting room Harrison had told you to go to, knocking quietly.

A woman you have never met before opens the door, and you realize you’re the last one. You smile sheepishly, stepping into the room, trying to ignore the questioning stares of some of the workers in the room. Your eyes involuntarily find Tom immediately, sitting next to Harrison who is standing at the head of the table opposite from where you’re standing. Harrison glances up as the door is closed behind you and smiles.

“There you are! Everyone, this is our new intern Y/N. She’s helping us out with marketing for the next six months.”

The small crowd murmurs a few greetings, and Harrison tells you to sit down and comply. You aren’t sure exactly why he had invited you to the meeting in the first place, but you tell yourself it’s a great way to learn something new. Placing the laptop bag in your lap, you give Harrison your attention. When he starts talking, you briefly let your gaze flicker to the left to look at Tom. He doesn’t seem to notice it, staring down at the notes displayed in front of him.

You notice he isn’t wearing a blazer today, only a faded charcoal-colored button-up shirt. A black tie dangles from his neck and you wonder momentarily if he hated dressing up for work as much as you do. He shuffles the papers a little, the shirt tightening around his bicep as he does so. You instantly look away, not wanting the sight to stay in your head longer than it had to. Returning your attention back to Harrison, you listen as he talks about the charity gala they are hosting in a few weeks.

“Um,” you speak up quietly, instantly regretting interrupting him. “I think it would be more beneficial to personally invite the honor guests and then advertise through newsletters and e-mails.”

Harrison purses his lips, considering your suggestion. “Why do you think that?”

“Well, I assume the honor guests are well-established business owners, politicians, you know, the usual. I also assume most these people are older than all of us in this room. I think they would appreciate the gesture of a personal letter in the mail. With all due respect, Mr. Osterfield, most people didn’t make it as young as you and Mr. Holland. I just know that my grandparents would respond better to a letter than an impersonal e-mail.”

You hear a few other people mumbling agreements. You meet Harrison’s eyes for a moment before looking back down at your hands, reminding yourself to apply a new coat of nail polish when you get home. There is a brief silence, and you wonder if maybe it had been a bad idea to speak up like you did.

“I think she’s right. Let’s send the honor guests invitations and we’ll notify the other businesses through e-mail like planned,” Tom speaks up and you immediately look at him. He just nods at you, and you give him a small smile.

“Okay, that’s settled then. Y/N, would you help me with those invitations later?” he asks, looking at you expectantly and you nod hurriedly. “Now, let’s talk about the next marketing campaign.”

Harrison’s words drown out, and you glance down at the papers in front of you. You stifle a yawn, suddenly wishing you could cuddle up in bed with Tom. You shake your head, needing to get rid of the thoughts. That doesn’t work as well as you hoped it would when Tom takes over his portion of the meeting. His words are impossible to comprehend, the thoughts in your head taking over. You quickly excuse yourself, opening and closing the door before anyone can say anything.

Hurriedly, you make your way upstairs and toward your desk, scolding yourself the entire way. You had never crushed on anybody this way before. Does it count as a crush? Your thoughts are messy and most of them unwelcome as you plop into your chair with a loud sigh. Pulling out your computer and earbuds, you welcome the loud noise of the song as you press play. You try your best to focus on the lyrics, pulling up the chat window and clicking Cecelia’s name.

you: dude i just interrupted harrison in a meeting and tom stood up for me and i wanna kms

A few minutes pass by and you pray that your best friend is on her computer, needing someone to vent to, or rather, someone to help you make sense of your jumbled thoughts. A small icon pops up, notifying you that she’s writing and a relieved sigh escapes you.

cecelia: bollocks! tell me what happened

you: tom isn’t wearing a blazer today and he looks really good and i just. ugh. f*ck me

ceceilia: i bet that’s what you were thinking when looking at him

you: shut up. i gotta go. i ran out of the meeting because i couldn’t stand it and i have to do my work

You exit out of the chat window, pulling up the document you started on Friday. Harrison had asked you to compile a list of potential businesses to contact in regards to the gala. You finish it faster than you would have liked, but you attach it to an e-mail and send it to Harrison anyway. He responds not even five minutes later, asking you to meet him in his office.

You unwillingly get up from your chair, making your way down the hall. You attempt to ignore your increasing heartbeat as you get closer, not knowing what to expect. You had interrupted him and caused quite the scene as you ran out of the conference room. You definitely didn’t earn any more respect points by doing that. Your knock on the door is timid but he appears to hear it anyway.

He tells you to come in, so you open the door cautiously, a nervous smile dancing on your lips. Harrison is sitting at the chair behind his desk when you close the door behind you, but your eyes are more focused on Tom leaning up against the desk. He looks at you quizzically and just for a moment you think you see a form of concern in his eyes. Harrison clears his throat and startles you out of your moment with Tom.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You seemed to leave us in a hurry? I know meetings can be boring but...”

You quickly shake your head, meeting Harrison’s eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I, uh, stomach bug. I wasn’t feeling too hot.”

Your excuse is so weak that you don’t even buy it yourself but Harrison just nods. “Okay, well, I hope you feel better. Why don’t you, uh, take the rest of the day off? You can work on those personal invitations at home and send me a few different versions, and then we’ll pick the best one. I saw that you’ve done a fair share of graphic design.”

You nod slowly, wondering if your face betrays how confused you feel. “I can stay-”

“I’ll take you home,” Tom speaks up for the first time since you entered the room, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“O-Okay. Um, I’ll get right on those invitations, Mr. Osterfield.”

Tom walks you to the elevator, neither of you saying anything, the only sound is the elevator jostling as it moves. The ride back to your apartment is just as quiet, the radio making the tension a little less awkward. You hadn’t talked to him since he had dropped you off at your apartment, and you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Thank you,” you state suddenly, deciding to elaborate after receiving a look laced with confusion from him. “For taking me home on Friday. I never really thanked you. I don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened if-”

“Yeah, I don’t want to think about that either. Don’t understand why you’d be walking around in a dress like that anyway,” he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road once.

“Oh, shut up, like you were complaining last week. That dress wasn’t any better.”

You pause momentarily as the words leave your mouth. That was the first time either of you had mentioned your night together after the interview. You glance over at him, noticing the way his knuckles are turning slightly white from gripping the steering wheel. He doesn’t smirk like you had expected him too.

“Well, I was there to take you home that night. To make sure you were okay and no one touched you. I watched you from the moment you walked in,” his words are stern, almost slightly possessive, but then a smirk finds its way to his lips. “Besides, I don’t recall you complaining either. Unless you count complaining about me taking too long to-”

“Okay, okay,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks heat up at his words. He chuckles just as he pulls up in front of your complex.

You unbuckle slowly, grabbing your bag in one hand. There is a slight pause in the music, which makes the sound of you opening the door appear even louder. You slide out of the car, your heels clicking against the cobblestone of the street. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you dip your head back in to take one last look at him. He has a confident grin on his face now, the seriousness of his voice totally gone.

“You didn’t run out of the meeting because of a stomach bug, did you?” He raises an eyebrow mockingly, almost knowingly, as you shut the door. You watch in slight horror as he takes off, the sound of his car accelerating bringing you back to reality. Ignoring your flushed cheeks, you trudge toward the entrance of your complex. There was no way he knew why you had run out. He couldn’t know. Could he?

#the intern #ironwriting #the intern ch 4 #tom holland #tom holland ceo #ceo!tom holland #ceo!tom #ceo au #tom holland au #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x reader

254 notes · View notes

blurglesmurfklaine · 4 years

Text

Pay It Forward

A/N: I’ve been stuck in a car for five hours so here have a shitty one shot for a dead fucking fandom because I know who I am and so should y’all at this point

Caaron AU, One Shot - Gas Station Meeting

A thousand miles down.

Carson tosses the bundle of road snacks onto the counter, including several bags of chips, a handful of slim Jim’s, and at least six bottles of water. He’s not sure if it’s the obnoxious fluorescent lights in the grimy gas station or the lack of proper sleep or exhaustion from driving so long but his head is pounding like a motherfucker.

A thousand to go.

“How much does that come out to?” He asks the cashier, digging in his pocket for the wad of cash he still has left.

“Seventeen sixteen.”

“Okay.” He exhales, does a couple of quick calculations in his head to determine how much he can spend and still have enough for the tank of gas he needs after this one is depleted. He has enough. Barely, but enough. “Can I add forty to number six?”

The cashier barely gives a puzzled glance outside. “Uh, I think your friend beat you to it.”

Friend? Carson doesn’t have any friends.

“What?” She points, and Carson follows her finger with his gaze to see some asshole who, based on his pink patterned pants and oversized denim jacket, looks like he was plucked right out of a John Hughes script pumping gas into his car.

Before he knows it, Carson hears the tinkling bell of the door ring as he’s bursting through it in a panic. “Hey!” He shouts, bolting towards the strange boy.

Said stranger just gives him an annoyingly charming smile and waves, still leaning against Carson’s car, still filling it up. “Hey,” he responds much too passively for Carson’s taste, like Carson’s anger just rolls right off him.

In Clover, Carson hadn’t had much hold over the likes of Claire Matthews and company, but he’d taken pleasure in the way they’d writhe underneath his sharp tongue.

“I know it’s a piece of shit,” he starts. “But it’s my piece of shit, and I’m not about to let some Wham looking douchebag take it from me.”

The stranger huffs out a laugh. “I’m not trying to steal your car, dude.”

“Then what, might I ask, are you doing?”

“I’m doing that whole pay it forward thing you read about on Facebook and stuff.”

“Why the hell would you do something like that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs. “To be nice, I guess.”

Carson stares at him disbelievingly. He knows from personal experience that people just don’t just do things to be nice. People do a lot of things for a lot of reasons; sex, drugs, personal gain, getting into one of the Big Ten universities—but not to be fucking nice.

“Aaron.” The stranger says, just as irritatingly serene as the rest of the conversation, pulling Carson out of his own thoughts and extending his hand towards him.

Carson doesn’t take it, just keeps staring suspiciously as Aaron pulls out the nozzle from the gas socket and places back on the handle.

“Why are you really doing this?” He asks.

“Like I said, to be nice.”

Carson scoffs incredulously. “Why are you so calm all the time?” He asks, because nobody could possibly exist in this crappy world and have such a laid back demeanor.

“I think a better question is why are you so worked up over somebody trying to do you a favor.”

“Because I don’t want to owe anybody one.” He snaps back.

“You don’t,” Aaron says simply and Carson wants to smack the cocky grin right off his face. “Alright,” he admits. “You wanna know why I really paid for your gas...?” He trails off, hoping for a name.

He finds himself giving one, despite himself. “Carson. And please, enlighten me.”

“Carson.” Aaron finishes, and though he’s never heard his own name roll off of someone’s tongue without any sense of loathing in it, Carson is mildly surprised when he doesn’t entirely hate it. “I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen, so I’ve spent my fair share of days living in a car...” he looks pointedly at Carson’s. “And what that looks like.”

“I’m not living in my car.” He spits defensively.

“Summer vacationing?”

Carson just glares at him.

“I’m not living in my car.” He repeats. “It’s just taking a little longer to get to Illinois than I anticipated and I don’t see reason to waste money on a shitty motel when I have an equally shitty backseat—“ he stops himself suddenly, coming to the realization that he doesn’t owe this boy he’s knows for less than ten minutes any explanations... despite his desire to give him one. “I don’t have time for this.” He mutters and circles around to the driver’s side.

Aaron goes around the other side and reaches out for Carson’s wrist. “Wait.” He pleads, and Carson actively chooses to ignore the fact that’s it’s not the worst sensation he’s ever felt.

“What?” He hisses instead.

“You intrigue me.”

Carson snorts at that. “You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah, well I’d like to change that.” Carson rolls his eyes. “What kind of car is it? I can’t really tell.”

“Because of the rust?” Carson huffs. “Yeah, neither can I. It was my grandpa’s.”

“Vintage. Righteous,” Aaron responds, nodding in approval.

“Righteous?” Carson cocks an eyebrow, trying for judgement but it comes off as amusement. “You’ve got to be kidding. Who the hell talks like that?”

Aaron just shrugs. “I’m into the whole vintage thing, sue me.”

“Really?” He asks sarcastically. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Hey, don’t knock the eighties!” Aaron laughs. He hops—fucking hops—onto the hood of Carson’s car. Clearly this guy has no sense of boundaries. “If I could live in any decade forever, it would definitely be the eighties.”

Carson knows he would normally tell this guy to fuck right off, but the sarcastic remark lying dormant on his tongue is much too tempting. “Sure, as long as you’re not too fond of medical advances, human rights, or technology.”

“It’s about the aesthetic! The movies, the music, the style—“

“The blatant racism!” Carson mocks his excitement.

He points a finger at the skeptic boy. “You can’t tell me that the ending of Say Anything doesn’t make you just swoon.”

“Nothing makes me swoon.”

“Or that Thriller doesn’t make you want to bust a move.”

“How is that a real sentence that just came out of your mouth?”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you psyched about life!”

Carson lolls his eyes and head upward, like he’s searching for an answer. “I guess... I guess I’m pretty passionate about writing.”

“Dude, that’s awesome!” Aaron practically shouts. Carson will be damned if he admits that his ridiculously charming smile fills his stomach with butterflies. “What do you write?”

“Journalism. I think that as a society, at the very least, we owe it to each other to bring certain truths to light.”

“That’s really cool. I’m sure I’ll see your name on a prestigious journal one day.” His grin widens. “You said you’re heading to Illinois?”

“Yeah...” he feels his walls coming down around this Aaron character and instinctively bricks them back up. “So?”

“Chicago.” He digs his hands into his pockets casually. “What’s taking you all the way to Illinois? Long way from Denver.”

Carson knows he shouldn’t tell a complete stranger such details about his life, but he does anyways. “School. Northwestern.”

“Ah, for that journalism stuff you were talking about?”

Carson nods.

“Ive got a band there—in Chicago, I mean.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you wanted to.” Aaron says, perky and honest. “If you’d let your guard down.”

Carson doesn’t correct him. “Fifteen minutes and you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“What put them there?”

He has no clue why he acknowledges the question with an answer, but he does. “I’m from a small town, and people from small towns don’t take too kindly to big ideas.“

Aaron just seems like such an open and honest person, it feels almost blasphemous to not return the favor.

“Tell me about it.” Aaron snorts. “Where’re you from?”

“Clovis.”

“Sweet, I’m from Fresno.” He leans in towards the other boy. “Practically next door neighbors. Weird we haven’t met yet.”

“You mispronounced fortunate.”

Aaron just laughs and part of Carson wants to yell in frustration because that’s not how you’re supposed to react to snark, but an even bigger part of him is impressed and, for a lack of a better word... intrigued.

He sighs and realizes that nothing short of divine intervention is gonna deter this guy from trying to be his friend. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

Aaron just shrugs. “Life’s short. You’re hot.”

Carson freezes. He’s not expecting that. Is that what this whole conversation had been? Aaron flirting with him?

A lame “Oh.” is all he—the Carson Phillips known for his way with words—can muster up.

Aaron plows right on with the conversation.

“Like I said,” he starts, hopping off Carson’s hood. “You don’t owe me anything, but if you’re feeling particularly grateful, I’ll accept your phone number in lieu of a thank you.”

“What will you take in lieu of a fuck off?” Carson claps back instinctively. He finds himself immediately regretting it.

Aaron throws his hands up in surrender and heads back his own car. “Alright, I can take a hint.”

A smile tugs at Carson’s lips. “Actually, you kind of can’t.” But there’s no sting left in his voice. He shakes his head. “Sorry... old habits.” He rests his head on the top of his car while Aaron nods understandingly.

“Don’t even worry about it.” Aaron hops into the drivers seat of his car and throws a carefree wave towards Carson. “I’ll see you around, Carson.”

He hears the ignition spark and watches Aaron’s car roll forward with a strange... fascination.

With the exception of Malerie, he’s never held a conversation with someone that lasted more than a few words, but here he was, staring after a stranger he’d just talked with for nearly a half hour.

His skepticism is screaming for him to just get in his car and drive away. He doesn’t need anybody. And he especially doesn’t need some pretentious dickwad who thinks that paying for his gas is gonna get him a phone number and wears ridiculously out of style clothes and says things like righteous—

He tosses his head back. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He mutters and before he knows what he’s doing he’s slamming his hands down on the hood of Aaron’s car in a valiant attempt to keep him from leaving.

“Wait!”

Aaron slams on the break and sticks his head out the window, a stupid grin on his face. “Are you crazy!?”

Carson just huffs. “Do you want that number or not?”

When Aaron’s finally left, Carson finds himself back in the gas station to actually pay for the food he’d abandoned on the counter. He’s about to leave when a nagging feeling stops him and forces him to turn around.

It’s not much, but it’s all he can afford.

Carson slaps twenty down on the counter.

“This is for the next dipshit who comes in here looking for gas.”

#sbl #caaron #caaron philstopherson #wow look at me im writing!#fic rec

8 notes · View notes

x22wg · 5 years

Text

Shore Leave (part 10)

Fresh from the gym, Michael Burnham stepped out of the shower with a soft moan of contentment from the warmth still lingering on her skin. Catching a glimpse of her profile in the mirror gave her pause, unable to look away. It still felt unfamiliar and strange to see herself like this. Such curves and just... so much of them. Michael found herself mesmerized by how the roundness of her belly curved into plump lovehandles, studying every crease and burgeoning roll with detached curiosity.

Touching her chubby cheek, Michael could not help but smile. While it felt like she barely recognized herself... when she had come face to face with the "Red Angel" down on Essof IV, her mother had known who she was right away.

Finishing drying her hair, Michael laughed at the absurdity of it all: She had nearly died trying to lure herself back from the future, only to learn that not only was her mother alive but a time traveller. And somehow she had decided what was most shocking about the whole thing was her mother seeing through a bit of extra chub. Perhaps that asphyxiation had killed off a few brain cells and Dr. Culber just didn't want to admit it.

"At least this helped against the temperature fluctuations." Michael patted her chunky flank and remarked wryly: "I suppose Georgiou wasn't lying about 'protecting me'..."

Burnham's hand moved to the front of her potbelly, relieved to see that she was making progress reversing the effects of the Emperor's "care". Sliding her hand up an invisible ruler she confirmed that her belly probably didn't stick out further than her – admittedly significantly fuller – breasts.

Her confidence surged, convinced that her efforts were paying off: Going to the gym. Carefully monitoring her nutrition intake. Being away from Tilly...

...Michael slumped, her confidence evaporated in an instant. Heaving a sigh she slouched down onto a bench. Lovehandles quivered with the impact as her belly pooled onto sprawling thighs. It let her stew in her lonesome misery for but a short while before she was called to action by a hungry growl.

Burnham knew better than tempt fate by starving herself and quickly finished up to make her way to the mess hall. Silently she imagined a carefully selected list of nutritious dishes. More vocally she groaned at the mental blandness. No wonder Tilly thought she was too serious and dull.

Michael shook her head as she walked down the corridor: What Tilly thought of her was the last–

"Oh. Hi there." Stopping a few meters away, Tilly shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other and held up a tentative palm by way of greeting. Her elusive gaze flitted to Burnham's damp hair: "Fresh from the gym, huh? Been working out? I thought we were going togeth– oh never mind! Gotta stick to the regimen, right? Get swole. Rawr!" For emphasis, Tilly flexed her arm and felt her own veiled bicep. "...haha..."

Awkwardly stroking her own arm, Burnham was grateful for the redhead's defensive blathering: her attempt to fill the awkward silence between them. "Yeah..." she said eventually, failing miserably to affect a carefree air: "I just popped by for a bit..."

"Uhh-huh."

She wasn't fooling anyone. She was every bit as uptight as Tilly thought she was. "Uh... I better go..."

"Yeah, I was just... uh.. heading to the lab."

"Right..." Burnham made a hasty retreat before she ended up making things even worse by blurting out what she was having for breakfast. A strictly regimented platoon of lentils, spinach, beans and– a final glimpse of Tilly's copper locks caught Michael's eye before she disappeared around a corner. Instantly the list in her mind evaporated and she stomped into the mess hall with frantic determination. She snatched up a tray and slammed it down in front of the replicator: "Cheeseburgers. Plural," she said tersely. "Add fries..." Michael paused for a moment. "...and chocolate fudge cake."

"Is this really necessary?"

Initially, Burnham had been quite willing to break from her daily routine to check in with Stamets in Engineering. After all, she was the one who would have to use the time suit they were attempting to synthesize. Not to mention, in a way, seeing the suit take shape brought her just that little bit closer to her mother. It was a small comfort in place of the emotional solace she craved in the wake of her mother's sudden, but devastatingly short, reappearance. Michael knew she had not left her willingly, but still it felt like rejection. Just like she herself had been rejecting her only other source of that comfort which she craved...

What Burnham was less enthused by was being met by Stamets, Jett Reno... and a measuring drone. "I thought this was about the suit?"

"It is," Stamets assured her, before adding rather more awkwardly – with an attempt at a reassuring smile to match: "It's just a precaution."

"You already have the schematics–"

Utterly unwilling to pull any punches as usual, Reno activated the drone's hover-mode to interrupt Burnham: "What my esteemed colleague here's trying to say is: we're dealing with a piece of kit more advanced than we – especially he – can fathom. It's not a prom dress we can take in and let out on a whim."

"It will fit," Michael said firmly. Saru had seen the Red Angel – seen her – on Keminar. Wearing the time suit. Ostensibly no heftier than her mother, on whose schematics the suit would be based.

"She has a point..." Stamets glanced over at Reno. Mischievousness tugged at the corner of his eye, eager to contradict his colleague for that jab she had just directed at him. "Any adjustments we make to the design now will be obsolete if Commander Burnham loses more weight."

Reno considered the matter for a moment before offering her begrudging acquiescence. She disabled the measuring drone as if to tell Burnham she was dismissed and said inscrutably: "...or gains it all back..."

"...and then she was like 'yeah?'" Tilly leaned forward, abandoning her malevolently nonchalant Georgiou impression to get her companions' attention by tapping Detmer's soufflé with her spoon: "That woman's a total psycho."

Seeing Owosekun and Detmer pause opposite her, Tilly realized what she had done and gently stroked the offended dessert as if to make it better: "Whoops..."

When this didn't seem to allay their concern, an apprehensive grimace spread across Tilly's face: "Shoot. She's behind me, isn't she..."

Turning warily, she breathed a sigh of relief that was quickly replaced by absolute bewilderment.

"Is this seat taken?" Michael asked evenly. The three women just looked at her like a stranger – which, to be fair, for the last couple weeks she had been at mealtimes. Then their eyes fixated upon her food tray as she sat down: filled almost to the brim with extra dessert.

"Oh... wow..." Tilly exclaimed shakily, the look on her face saying "who are you and what have you done with Michael Burnham?"

"Anyone want some cake?" Michael affected her most winning smile. "No? That means more for me then."

"Are you... alright?"

Burnham took a big bite out of her club sandwich, munching through her words: "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Mmh, this is really good, you should try some."

Reluctantly, Detmer took a bite of the offered half, nodding in agreement as she chewed. "I didn't know this was on the regular menu."

"It took some convincing," Burnham said as she tucked into luscious dish after luscious dish, making theatre of how heartily she was eating.

"How do you 'convince' a machine?" Owo chuckled.

Detmer visibly relaxed as she accepted the rest of the sandwich: "Tilly, didn't you say you reprogrammed a food synthesizer to only make ice cream when you were a kid?"

As if slapped out of a trance, Tilly spluttered in confusion before feeling compelled to reply: "Uh... oh... what? Oh... that. It was just a matter of calculating the necessary protein concentration and small particle dispersion of emulsifiers."

"Right... of course..." Detmer managed to pretend to understand for all of three seconds before she burst out laughing. And just like that, the awkward atmosphere vanished.

"You gonna eat that?" Burnham asked jokingly, following up on the levity by pointing to Detmer's soufflé. Her humorous request was met with a smile, so chummy it was akin to a balm for her soul. She tucked into the dessert as it was offered to her, doing her best to reflect the warm camaraderie to Tilly beside her and smiling through chocolate-stained teeth.

"Seriously, is there anything you can't do?" Owo told Tilly, shaking her head in mild disbelief.

The redhead's eyes fluttered as she turned her attention away from Burnham to reply, rather morosely: "Well, too bad you can't power a time crystal with ice crea-heywaitaminute!"

Burnham thought her uniform should have fit better by now, compared to the last time she greeted a mystery guest arriving in Discovery's transporter room. She was certain it had felt less restrictive as of late, but having to walk at a brisk pace to keep up with Captain Pike really seemed to push the seams of her trousers to their limit. She made sure to file into the room after the captain so she could surreptitiously feel up her bum to make sure there were no hull breaches.

Feels so big... and round, she analysed before she snapped back to reality and quickly stepped up beside Pike before he caught on. They had to wait a moment for Tilly to arrive: A small eternity in which she could not quite put that round rear out of her mind... especially when Tilly came up from behind to join them.

Reflexively putting on her overbearing façade, Michael still raised a curious eyebrow when she glanced over at the redhead on her right: "Is that for me?" she joked, eyeing the bowl of spumoni ice cream in Tilly's hands.

"Ohh... no, no! I wouldn't want to ruin your diet! It's for... well, you'll see."

Before Burnham could retort, the trill of the transporter heralded the arrival of a young woman with wild hair and wilder fashion sense. Woad tattoos and nose ring was perhaps not the look Michael imagined for a planetary queen.

"Your Serene Highness, may I–" Pike said with respectful urgency, but was quickly cut off by an outburst of girlish enthusiasm:

"Tilly!" the queen of Xahea exclaimed with a big grin and rushed over to embrace her friend.

Burnham and Pike exchanged patient looks as the two women greeted each other with unbridled excitement. At least "patient" was what Michael was going for. Somehow a burning feeling was welling up inside her; petulant, almost childish.

"Po, this is Commander Michael Burnham," Tilly explained once the hugging was done and ice cream had been offered. She gestured towards the thin-lipped Burnham.

"Your roomie," Po observed, her second eyelids blinking curiously as she cocked her head slightly: "You look taller in your photos."

"Yes I've put on–" Burnham smoothed her uniform over her thick waist, somewhat self-conscious. "Wait... taller?" Expecting a comment on her weight, the queen's comment threw Michael for a loop.

Virtually vibrating with barely controlled excitement, Tilly continued by introducing Pike. He proceeded to give the queen a small bow, measured to the exact amount of courtesy expected of their respective stations: "Your Highness Me Hani Ika Hali Ka Po..."

"Po's fine."

"Right. Can you eat and walk?" Pike glanced down at the bowl in Po's hands. "I understand you can help us power a time crystal."

Taking a big spoonful of spumoni, Po nodded blithely and made to follow. Still somewhat perplexed, Burnham made up the rearguard, unable to keep from glowering as she watched Po and Tilly up front, all giggles as they huddled together.

#Star Trek Discovery #wg story #wg fic #michael burnham #michael/tilly #sylvia tilly #diet #chubby #chub #jealousy

8 notes · View notes

zoeygreensimblr · 5 years

Text

Stay Beautiful (episode 15)

"Can I just have a tiny clue about the surprise" I beg Angus, Wednesday night after the gym, sitting in his office of blandness.

"How are your Essay's coming, there will be no surprise if you haven't finished them" He asks me, I swear he's worse than Don and Mr Landgaarb put together

"I've finished my Simlish one" I explain, hoping that will win him over and he will give me a clue

"And History? Zoey, we had a deal remember?" He reminds me

"I'll start it Sunday, it will be done by this time next week." I promise him

"And you have to leave time to do a practice test or two, I want you to be well prepared when you take your final exams" He harps on

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, practice tests, got it. Clue please?" I think I'd sell my soul at this point just to know what the surprise is.

"I'll give you two clues" He tells me and I get so excited I jump up from my seat and run up to him for a hug, "Wow, I haven't even told you the clues yet and you're all over me."

"Are you complaining?" I ask him joking

"Never" He says, kissing the top of my head, "Ok, clue 1, You will need swim wear because the climate is warm there will be a spa", I smile at him, I wore him down

"Is that one clue or three?" I ask, still confused about where we could be going

"That was one clue but I threw in some detail to tease you" He laughs, "Now clue two, we will be flying there".

"Ive never flown anywhere before" I tell him, getting more excited

"You're too cute baby" He laughs, "What do you want to do tonight anyway?" He asks me and I just stare at him, suggestively, he just laughs and asks "What else do you want to do tonight Zoey? We could go for dinner or see a movie?"

"Don't you have to work early tomorrow?" I ask

"I have Thursdays off" He informs me, how did I not know this? Maybe it's never come up before because I'm usually at school every Thursday.

"I'd like to go out for dinner" I tell him, "But nowhere fancy, just somewhere casual coz I only packed casual clothes" I add

"So burgers and fries is what she desires tonight?" He asks, laughing, "You're determined to make me fat" He says, shaking his head

"I'd still love you if you're fat Angus" I promise, he grabs my hand and places it under his shirt so I can feel his washboard abs

"Say goodbye Zoey" He knows me too well

"Fine, salad it is" I laugh with him.

Angus held my hand as we walked from his office to the desk at the front. Annabelle had returned to work today but still looked unwell. We stop to farewell her on our way out and I remember I had knitted her a scarf, I pull it out of my bag and drape it around her neck.

"Oh Zoey, it's beautiful, thank you" She says, giving me a hug

"It's nothing Annabelle, I was thinking about you all last week and thought it would keep you warm at work" I explain, "If that's ok with the boss of course? I know it's not uniform but I didn't like the thought of Annabelle getting more sick overtime the door opens and lets those cold, windy gushes in" I probably should have cleared it with Angus first

"It's fine Zoey, It does look beautiful too. I'm more concerned about when you found the time in your schedule to knit a scarf?" He frets and I squeeze his hand

"It really didn't take that long" I assure him, "Knitting is how I destress and writing that essay stressed me out a lot"

"I'm sorry Zoey, I didn't mean to make you feel bad about it, you destress how ever you need to, I remember it being a stressful period" He pulls me in close to him, I know he means well, he just doesn't want me to fail.

"You remember year 12 Angus?" Annabelle laughs at him

"I remember fucking it up and having my arse handed to me by Landgaarb and then again by Imogen" He says seriously, "I don't want that for Zoey"

"Zoey is nothing like you were Gus" Annabelle tries to rationalise with him and I hug him tightly

"I know she's not, I just worry, you both know that" He resolves

It's interesting seeing Angus and Annabelle talk about the past that I was never part of and for me it's so hard to imagine Angus doing anything that would warrant getting expelled in his final year, the Angus I know is always in control and structured.

On the walk home, when it's just us I feel that it's the best time to ask him more about why he was expelled, I know it's a sensitive subject and i'm hoping he trusts me enough to open up.

"How close where you to completing before Mr Landgaarb kicked you out" I ask in a small voice. He stops walking and turns to looks at me, it's dark but I can still see his facial features in the streetlights, like he's tormented by the memories.

"It was about this time, we had just started term 3, I had spent all my holidays working on 3 assignments I had and Steph was so pissed off because I hadn't spent any time with her over Winter break. Steph was always angry at me about something so that was nothing new. I was in the top 2 of my year too but I wasn't a good kid, I'd get into fights and mouth off" He explains and it breaks my heart to hear that he was so close to finishing and it was taken away.

"Was it because you got into a fight?" I ask him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I need a haircut, I should probably do that before we go away" He says, changing the subject and I decide to let it go.

"I love you Angus, you're perfect to me" I give him a confidence boost

"Starving is what I am baby, I'm tempted to get street food although I've heard bad things about the Pufferfish, that if it's not cooked right you can die" he grabs my hand and walks us to where the food stalls are, "You wanted casual" he reminds me.

We order hamburgers from one of the stalls and wait for our food, I snuggle into Angus to keep warm.

"I'm not going to tell you why I was kicked out, you have this image of who you think I am and I don't want to destroy that image. I love you Zoey but I want you to understand that this is the one thing I will never tell you. I'm not proud of what happened and if I could change it I would." He has that pained look on his face again.

"I understand, I won't ask again, it's in the past" I reassure him

We eat our burgers in front of the fire, the crackling flames create the perfect romantic aura.

"Did you like the burger?" Angus enquires

"It was so juicy, I loved it, have you had street food from there before?" I ask, knowing if he did it wouldn't be often given his aversion to carbs.

"Never, you're just a bad influence Amelia, making me fall off the wagon" He laughs

"I have a way for you to work it off" I suggest

"Where?" He asks

"Where what?" I reply, confused

"Where do you suggest we work it off, keeping in mind you can't pick any location we've done it in before, those are the new rules" He challenges me, "That rules out here in the lounge room, my bedroom and the laundry, oh and Immie's room coz thats just a world of creepy"

"We didn't really have...sex, in the laundry though" I remind him.

"You came on the washing machine Zoey, I'm counting it" He gives me that cheeky smile. Think Zoey, you can be creative

"The kitchen?" I decide, based on nothing more than that it's close to the lounge room where we are sitting and anywhere downstairs will be too cold.

"I want you to go into the kitchen, take your clothes off and bend over the island bench and wait for me" He orders me and I obey

I don't hear him walk up behind me but I feel him run his hand up my inner thigh and slip his fingers inside me

"Thats my good girl, always so wet" He praises me, moving his fingers to my clit and my breathing starts to quicken, "Are you ready baby"

"Where are you putting it" I ask, suddenly aware we never discussed trying anal and I'm not ready to be that experimental

"Same place I always go" He assures me and i feel him slide in, he settles in and starts penetrating, I instinctively push back so he can go in deeper, he spanks me hard enough to send the electric volts through my body and I can't help but let out a loud "fuck" which just spurs him on, his hand leaves my ass and slowly makes it way to my left breast, he cups it and squeezes my nipple, it's enough to send me over the edge, I collapse on the bench and feel Angus have his own climax seconds after mine.

"Sorry baby, that was over before it started but the bench was great choice" I feel him-up out of me and I still can't move, that was absolutely satisfying and I'm spent. I slowly peel myself off the bench. I have no idea where Angus has disappeared to until I hear the bath water running, I make my way downstairs, naked and cold and find him in the bathroom, he wraps a fluffy dressing gown around me and I wait for the bath to fill up so I can put the spa on.

"Fuck that was good Zoey" He says, kissing me deeply on the lips.

"I think that was my favourite so far" I inform him and he laughs

"Theres plenty more to come, maybe even tonight" He tells me, "Just for future reference though, I would always tell you before I go up your arse, no surprise attacks I promise."

He climbs in to the bath and holds out his hand for me to follow him in, we find a corner and stretch-out, me between his legs.

"Have you done that before? Anal?" I ask curiously

"Yes and I wouldn't force it on you. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you Zoey" He nuzzles into my neck

"I don't think it's for me" I tell him

"I'm perfectly ok with that Princess, I'm satisfied with what we are doing now" He reassures me, "Can I make one suggestion though?" He asks and my heart start racing, I'm not doing this right, I should be putting in more effort

"What is it?" I ask, expecting the worst

"I want you to go on the pill, we can use it as a back up method if you want to but I would feel a little bit of relief knowing we're not going to have any accidents." He suggests

"I think thats a good idea, Tess is on the pill, she goes to our doctor in Brindleton Bay but I can't ask her to come with me, she will ask too many questions" I tell him

"Zoey I will go with you" He offers, "Otherwise if you go alone you will antibiotics for the flu all because you can't say the word sex" He jokes and I splash him, he knows me all too well.

"Can we go tomorrow?" I ask

"We can go tonight if you want? There's a late night clinic just up the road, it's designed for people who need to see a doctor but not for anything serious outside of business hours and the doctors there are good too." He explains

"Is that where you go?"I ask him

"Yeah, when I need to, I do get sick sometimes." He tells me, "Do you want to go tonight or wait until tomorrow" He asks me

"Go tonight" I reply, "The doctor isn't going to poke me with anything right?" Ive seen way too many episodes of Grey's Anatomy at this point where people go in for simple health issues and the Doctors end up putting a tube down their throat or sticking a giant needle in them. Angus starts laughing at my completely rational fear.

"They're not going to poke you with anything" he says trying to keep a straight face, "I am, but they won't" He gives me that cheeky smile

The clinic is a small space placed between two giant retail stores. Theres 1 other person waiting when we arrive, we check in at the desk and the receptionist hands me a form to fill out, questions about previous medical history. Our wait is short and a female doctor calls my name and ushers me into a smaller office than the one Angus occupies at the gym but unlike his, this room is way more decorated.

"Hi Zoey, my name is Doctor Evans" She introduces herself, "what can I help you with tonight?"

My nerves kick in, I know what I'm here for but I can't say it, she's going to judge me and give me a lecture about how I should never of lost my virginity, Angus can see I'm struggling and takes me hand

"It's alright Zoey, you're in a safe place here, Dr Evans isn't going to make you feel bad" He comforts me, "Zoey is a highly anxious person, she finds it hard to talk about certain subjects, that's why I came in with her tonight" Angus explains to the doctor and I can see Dr Evans starting to understand what's going on

"Is this your boyfriend Zoey?" she asks me and I nod yes, "And are you sexually active?" she continues

"Yes" I say shyly, preparing myself for the lecture

"Zoey there's nothing to feel ashamed of, a lot girls become sexually active around your age and it's natural. My only concern is that your protected and safe."She reassures me, "Have you been tested?" She enquires and I look at Angus, he promised no needles tonight

"Zoey was a virgin before we started having sex, we use condoms every time too" Angus answers for me, Dr Evans turns her attention from me to Angus

"And when were you last tested for STIs?" she questions him

"After my last sexual encounter, I'm clean" He replies and I sit there thinking that these should have been questions I asked him before jumping into anything, I didn't even consider it. Dr Evans turns her attention back to me.

"Zoey would you like me to prescribe the pill for you?" She asks me in her concerned doctor voice.

"Yes please" I reply, my own voice is soft and shy

"I can do that tonight, I'm going to also prescribe a low dose of anti anxiety medication too" She tells me, "The pill must be taken at or around the same time every day for it to be effective and it can take up to 7 days for it to become effective so please keep using your back up form of contraception. Also I must warn you that antibiotics can make the pill ineffective so be aware of that if you are prescribed antibiotics at any stage" She says as she types and prints out two prescriptions, "Also Zoey, don't ever feel ashamed to talk to a medical professional about being sexually active, we are here to help you, never judge you" She smiles warmly at me

"Thank you Dr Evans" I say. We leave the clinic and find a late night chemist near by, I put my prescriptions in with the pharmacist and we sit and wait, Angus takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze.

"Proud of you Princess" He says

"I really didn't do anything, you did all of the talking, my nerves just took over" I'm ashamed that I couldn't speak up

"Zoey it's all good, I know you have anxiety and thats why I went with you tonight and maybe the medication for anxiety will help keep the nerves away." He comforts me

"I should have ask you that question before we did anything" my mind is going into overthinking mode

"I would of told you if you had anything to worry about, I knew I was clean and yeah, maybe we should of had that conversation, that falls on me more than you not asking, I didn't think about it honestly because I knew you were clean" He reassures me, "You're safe with me Zo, always", I feel it too.

We walk back to the apartment, past the food stalls that are packing up for the night.

"Do you want a cupcake Princess?" He asks me

"You ask me like you don't already know the answer will always be yes" I laugh

He orders 2 red velvet cupcakes and we eat them in front of the fire.

"I feel bad for Joanna" I randomly blurt out

"Why, she earns $165 a day here, I think she's not doing too bad" He laughs

"Yeah but what do you think she thinks now that she has to empty your trash bin after we've, you know?" It's only just dawned on me now that, apart from Dr Evans, Joanna would be the only other person to know Angus and I are sleeping together and I've never even met her.

"Zoey I don't give a shit what she thinks, I'm an adult" He tells me, "You worry too much about what other people think" He states the obvious. I see his point though, it's no ones business what we are doing and it's not shameful either

"I'm going to tell Tess next time I see her" I announce

"Only if you're sure? I can be there with you if you want me to be?" He's asks knowing I may need support

"Thank you, I appreciate it but I think it's best I do this alone, Tess has been my whole world for so long and now she shares it with you, I love you both but I don't want to make her feel like it's now you and me and she's been pushed out. I need sister time." I explain and then a panic sets in, I don't want Angus to feel I''m pushing him out either, "Is that OK?" I ask

"Of course thats OK Zo, you never have to feel like you're choosing Tess over me, she's your sister and your best friend" He says, kissing my head

#sims #sims4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 cas #sims 4 gameplay #simblr #sims 4 cats and dogs #sims 4 get to work #sims 4 get famous #sims 4 dine out #sims 4 vampires #taylor swift #sims 4 city living #sims 4 san myshuno #sims 4 brindleton bay #whickedwhims

1 note · View note

kz-i-co · 6 years

Text

“I’ll Let You Know”: Part IV

» Summary: Jealously is the best medicine.

» Pairing: Kim Namjoon (RM)/ Reader

» Genre: smut

» Words: 3.4k

» Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ╫ Part 5

» m.list ╫ bts masterlist

You collapse against the wall once you left the classroom. "So the rumors are true. You have been sleeping with your Professor and I know which one." You saw those dumb boys once again and you looked at them with panic.

"Wait until the whole school finds out."

"Who do you think it is now?" You folded your arms acting confident.

"Professor Kim." He said being correct.

"Why gee, how did you know?" You said being over sarcastic. "Get a clue jerk off and but out of my business." You snapped.

"Wait it's not Professor Kim?" He asked questioning himself.

"Professor Kim is taken, what kind of girl do you think I am, besides I don't play for that team." You winked causing him to be flustered. You rather have any other fake lie made up about you then being with Professor Kim. That could put his job in jeopardy and you rather have them believing anything else.

On your way out you quickly tried to get far away as possible. You looked back to see if they were falling you. Once you saw the coast was clear you looked back ahead, suddenly bumping into a tall figure, knocking you down.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." You looked up seeing the tall figure tower over you. You saw a handsome guy with light brown hair look at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You said brushing it off as he grabbed your hand helping you up.

"I didn't see you." He smiled shyly.

"It's okay, I didn't watch where I was going." You blushed softly. He was handsome but he wasn't Namjoon. "Are you a student here?"

He laughed. "No, I'm just dropping off paperwork for my father."

"You're father?" You asked being noisy.

"Dean Kim." He nodded with a smile.

"Oh so your father is the big boss." You smirked.

"Yeah.....I'm Jin." He finally said his name.

"I'm (Y/N)." You batted your eyelashes. "It's really nice to-" You got cut off from someone grabbing your arm suddenly.

"(Y/N) I need to talk to you about that stunt you pulled." You heard Namjoon's voice.

"What?" You looked at him confused but suddenly hit you that he was jealous.

"Excuse us, the Dean wants to see you." He said and led you away.

He pulled you into the first door he saw, which happened to be a janitors closet. He had you pinned against the door with rage.

"Hello Professor Kim, is there a problem." You teased.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked annoyed.

"What? I was just having a causal conversation." You twirled your hair around your fingers.

"You were flirting."

"I was not." You laughed. He looked at you with a blank expression. You loved this look on him. It made him sexy.

"You were." You could feel his breath brush your neck as he got closer.

"You really want to fuck me inside this janitors closet?" You asked being a tease as you played with his belt.

He gave out a frustrated groan and moved away. "We can't here."

"It's always we can't." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry I don't want to risk my job." He mentioned again.

"I know, I know. But you were the one to pull me in here remember." You said folding your arms.

"I know." He said leaning against the wall.

"How about I make it up to you." You smirked while getting on your knees in front of him.

"Again?"

"I can't help it, I love it." You twirled your finger around his private area. "This will be the proof I wasn't flirting." You rubbed the area gently.

"I don't know." He said unsure. "The janitor can come in at any moment."

"The doors locked right?" You asked while undoing his belt.

"Yeah but he has a key."

"It will just be a quickie." You said again and rubbed your hand up and down quickly. "You say you don't want this but I know you all too well." You pulled him out seeing him full erect.

"Maybe I should flirt with other guys more often." You smirked finally putting him in your mouth.

"So you admit you were flirting." He said tilting his head back from the pleasure.

"Maybe I knew you were watching me." You licked down the side, getting him more moist.

"I've already told you I wanted this, why would you do that?" He asked feeling weak quickly as you bobbed your head at a rapid pace. "This is about Professor Choi isn't it?"

You pulled him out suddenly as precum dripped down the side. "You may not believe it but take it from a girls point of you, she's totally into you."

Your hand jerked him off for a few before you had your mouth back where it was. "Are you sure?"

"Hmmhmmm." You confirmed not stopping.

He tilted his head back once again moaning softly causing you to be wet yourself. He grabbed onto the back of your head causing you to go faster and you couldn't hide your smile. He was always a softy when it comes to your sexual life but you knew he had dominance in him some where and you couldn't wait to find it.

"Fuck, you need to hurry." He moaned. He was already 5 minutes late to his next class.

He started gyrating his hips towards your mouth to add more momentum to try to push him over the edge. You felt your gag reflex come into play as he hit the back of your throat. You felt you were running out of breath and needed a break until you felt that warm substance fill your mouth and he stopped immensely. He moaned softly being defeated and you smiled while swallowing.

"It's my turn next time." You got off your knees and wiped your mouth.

"I can arrange that." He smiled while putting himself together. "I have to go but I'll see you later." He kissed you quickly before leaving the small room.

You gave it a little time before sneaking out. You looked at the end of the hallway and you saw that Professor Choi has stopped Namjoon and she even had her arm locked around his as they walked further away.

She was into him and you never felt more angry in your life. You knew it was safe to know that Namjoon wanted you but you were worried she would somehow twist her way into the center. "Fucking bitch."

"Let me get this straight. It seems like Professor Kim is dating Professor Choi but you both walk out of the same closet?" You turned around to the annoying boys.

"What do you want from me? A blowjob?" Your annoyance was already full throttle.

"That offer is tempting but maybe a little something else."

"I'm not having sex with you." You said loud and clear.

"How about a date?" He asked.

You laughed in his face. "In your dreams."

"Not a real real date, there's this girl I like and was wondering if you could make her jealous." He gave hopeful eyes.

"But then I would have to constantly hang out with you and I rather jump off a cliff." You rolled your eyes.

"Maybe you can be my ex and you're still so in love with me." He said with a smirk. "Unless I can spread how happy I am for you and Professor Kim. You guys are so cute."

"You're a pathetic virgin who probably has the smallest dick at this school." You snapped.

"Oh you. I'll see you tonight yeah?" He said not being dazed by your insult.

Tonight? You had something with Namjoon tonight.

"Tonight or you can forget about-"

"Alright, I'll be there." You cut him off and walked away.

"Thanks (Y/N)."

....

"You're coming, that's a surprise." Sam said as you walked down the road with them. You hated frat parties and now you were forced to go to one.

"I'm bored." You just shrugged.

You received a text back from Namjoon explaining why you would be late. He understood and you just couldn't wait until you can snuggle up into his arms tonight.

"Psst." You heard a sudden noise taking you away from your friends. You looked over and saw the little twerp. "We should probably walk in together."

"Why? If we are playing ex's." You asked.

"Because you are still madly in love with me remember." He said. "Now pretend you're following me."

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told. "What's up my party people." He said as he walked in. He was such a joke.

You tried to hide your smile as a few people snickered off to the side. "What do you want (Y/N) I told you we are seeing other people."

"Please no." You acted and grabbed his hand.

He laughed as he noticed the girl he liked look his way. "Come on, it's over."

"But how will I ever find a guy with a big dick like yours." You said and he looked at you startled. "Please one last time." You moved your hand down his front, you weren't sure if anything was really in there to be honest.

"I'm sorry. I can't." He let you down and walked over to the drinks. You watched as the girl he liked followed him. Is your mission over can you leave?

"I have a big dick." A random guy tried to talk to you.

"I'm sure you do." You gave a look of disgust and walked away.

You walked over to the drinks as well and wanted to take a few with you.

"Hey." That girl touched your shoulders. "Sunjae is willing to hangout if it is the three of us." You saw him nodding his head behind.

You tried to hide your sick laughter. "Are you inviting me to a threesome?" She nodded.

"How dare you? He is my man and I rather have him all alone." You said and he looked startled.

"Forget it." He quickly interrupted. "She just needs time to process everything." He took the girls hand and walked away.

"Asshole." You said downing a drink.

.....

You walked all the way to Namjoons house to find him not there. He texted you as you reached the door step and said something came up and he need to visit Professor Choi. He also confirmed to not be worried because he wasn't into her but you did anyway.

"Thank you so much." She smiled as he handed back her speech. "I don't even know why Mrs. Sung asked me to do this, I'm horrible at speeches."

"You're fine. Your speech is very well written." Namjoon said.

"Thank you." She smiled. "More wine?"

"Yeah." She poured him a cup.

"Your speech will be the greatest tomorrow night. The board will be proud."

"I'm still in the same boat as you, I don't know why they picked me." He sipped his wine to the very last drop.

"Because you're amazing at everything. You're smart, caring, charming, handsome, kind, handsome." She finished her glass as well. "Did I say that twice." She giggled to herself as she placed her hand on his knee and working its way up.

He looked at her hand and once he looked up she crashed her lips with his. The thing was he didn't stop it. He regretted the wine since it has gotten to his head. He was picturing you as she continued to kiss him deeply. She had her hands all the way to his most sensitive area and began to rub the area, just like you. She stopped kissing him and started to kiss down his neck and she continued to pleasure him outside his jeans.

"(Y/N)." He moaned your name and Choi immediately pulled away.

"Whose (Y/N)?" She asked.

"Fuck." He said getting up quickly and grabbing his things.

"Wait Namjoon, Who is she?" She asked confused.

"I'm sorry Kat. I should have never come." He said with regret.

"I've known you for years and I've never seen a girl with you." She started to get angry.

"Just leave it alone please." He said with sadness in your eyes and finally left her speechless.

It was Saturday night and you couldn't get into contact with Namjoon all day. He was too busy practicing his speech and you decided to leave him be. Until tonight. You got dressed in your most formal attire since it was an important event and walked inside. It was an event for the board members of the school and faculty or any family they wanted to bring.

You saw Namjoon with a glass of champagne as he talked to the Dean of the school. "What are you doing here?" You saw the familiar Jin.

"I'm an important part of this event." You said.

"Aren't you a student?" He asked amused.

"Yes but I helped decorate this place so I just wanted to see how well everyone likes it." You lied.

"Very nice." He smiled.

"You're here for your daddy." You said in a baby voice.

"Yes Of course. He's talking to one of the schools most finest teachers." Namjoon was more popular then you thought. You saw Professor Choi come into the circle. "Professor Choi she is pretty impressive as well. I'm glad the school can be a source of well acquainted relationships."

"What?" You said anger filling up.

"They came here together, didn't you know." You knew but you hated how it was rumored they were dating.

Namjoon's eyes caught yours and he came with an excuse to use the bathroom. As soon as he passed you, he touched you gently to signal you to follow him. "Excuse me Mr. Jin, I have to use the ladies room." He smiled at your choice of name and you continued on your way.

"You and your DATE are really the talk of the party." You said growling through your teeth.

"What are you doing here? Students can't come to this event." He said stressed out.

"I just wanted to see your speech." You said giving innocent eyes.

"Thank you." He smiled.

"And no worries, I wasn't flirting with him, he was talking about his dad." You said.

"I know, I trust you." He said letting you smile. "I need to tell you something." He started and panic started to overcome you.

"What is it?"

"You were right." He was almost afraid to say it.

"Right about what?" Your impatience rising.

"Choi likes me."

"Did something happen between you two?" You asked stepping closer as he leaned against the bathroom sink. "Namjoon." You raised your voice from his silence. "Did you fuck her?"

"No." He quickly responded seeing how angry you were. "We just made out a little."

Your eyes began to water and you couldn't help but pace back and fourth. "Look (Y/N) its not as bad as you think." He grabbed your shoulders causing you to be still. "Please don't cry."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"What? Listen-"

"You two deserve each other." You tried to get away.

"(Y/N) listen to me. We were both drunk and I stopped it in time." He said.

"You still cheated."

"I thought it was you." He said.

"Yeah right." You pushed him away.

You attempted to leave again but he pinned you against the wall. "I love you (Y/N) not her."

You were taken back by his words. You never said those words before and it still melted your heart anyway.

"You love me?"

"Yeah." He smiled.

"Well how am I going to trust you when you drink?" You asked wiping the tears.

"I don't drink often, you don't have to worry. And if it makes you feel any better, I called her by your name."

"My name?" You began to panic.

"She doesn't know your name, so relax." He smiled.

You began to feel butterflies. Even under the influence you were all he can think about.

"All you did was kiss?" You asked again and he nodded. "You owe me."

"I know, I'll make it up to you but I have to go make my speech soon." He pursed his lips.

"Okay." You smiled and he kissed you hard on the lips before leavening the room.

Should you punish him? Maybe....

.....

"Thank you so much for this opportunity." He began.

"Hey." You whispered getting closer to Jin. You felt awkward standing by yourself, especially for not belonging.

Jin smiled at you as you both started to listen to his speech. Jin leaned down to whisper in your ear that your dress tag was hanging out. You fluttered being embarressed letting him tug the annoying material back in.

You heard Namjoon stuttered, followed by a cough to clear his voice and you looked up seeing his eyes on you. You gave a thumbs up as he continued his speech.

Once it was over the board still shook his hand as he did an excellent job besides his slight slip up. After he was free, he grabbed your hand dragging you back stage where he knew no one would interrupt. "I apologized and you get back at me like that?"

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "Jin? He was fixing my dress."

"That was an excuse to touch you." He said.

"That was why you chocked up." You said from the realization.

"Who does this guy thinks he is?" He said angry.

"Calm down." You giggled. "God your so hot when your jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed off." He said.

"You're jealous, admit it." You said. "Am I gonna get punished?" You smirked.

"(Y/N)." He gave you that familiar look.

"He whispered in my ear and touched me here all the way down here." You traced your curves and lifted up your dress revealing you had no underwear on. "There is still an hour left of this event. That's too bad, I'm so wet." You rubbed your fingers down your clit.

"Why do you do this to me?" He whined.

You shrugged with an evil smirk. He had you pinned to the wall in seconds as he kissed you roughly. His hands snaked their way under your dress brushing your soaked center. You wrapped one leg around his waist giving him more access.

"I can't deal with foreplay right now." You whined.

He smiled and turned your around leaning you over the exit stair case railing. You heard him unzip his trousers and seconds later jammed himself into you without warning. You moaned biting your hand to not cause any noise.

He slapped your ass as he thrusted into you at a rapid pace. Like you predicted. His jealously was a good look on him and you enjoyed every second. The railing was rubbing coldly against your chest as you held on tightly. His hands were digging into your hips causing you to meet him in the middle making the momentum faster.

"Tell Jin if he touches you again, I will make sure he will never step foot in this school."

His angry words were causing you to almost reach your end. "Tell Professor Choi if she touches you again, I will claw her eyes out." You moaned a little loudly having instant regret.

He slapped your ass one last time before you felt him jerk inside you with a unsteady rhythm. He slowed down immensely as he felt his climax. The sensation had you weak in the knees as you felt your rush of pleasure as well. He pulled out quickly and zipped himself back together. You stayed still until you let the white liquid pour out.

Once you stood up once again you were uncomfortable from the stickyness. "I might go home early." You giggled.

"How about you go out to my car and I'll meet you out there in 15 minutes." He said kissing your hand.

"Okay and I love you to."

You blushed and walked out from the stage as you bumped into someone not even paying attention to who it was. "Excuse me." You said still making your way out.

Professor Choi looked at you in pure shock as you walked away. Then she looked at Namjoon as he spoke to the Dean like nothing unusual happened. She remembered you and every detail, connecting the dots. How you two were constantly together but under a clock of invisibility as nothing was wrong. But it was wrong. Everything about his was wrong.

#bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts imagines #bts angst #bangtan fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtan oneshot #bangtan one shot #bangtan scenarios #Bangtan imagines #namjoon smut #namjoon scenario #namjoon imagine #kim namjoon scenarios #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic

104 notes · View notes

theimaginesyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Stone Shadows | Chapter VII

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI

Add yourself to the taglist!

As always, I appreciate any and all feedback. Comments would really help me keep going especially since my blog is pretty much dying due to the new Tumblr guidelines. I’ll be posting on Ao3 too; here’s a link to the series there.

Seven | Enezra

These corridors were the blackest among the labyrinth. So dark that the cold permeated every inch, bit at any that dared to enter. Only the frost wolves and snow cats ventured this far.. Enezra walked beside the dwarf, his wool wrapped hand holding up the low-burning lamp. Even she could not see more than three feet ahead of them.

She traced their path with her hand. Her woven gloves were as little protection as her patched cloak but she was used to the cold. She swallowed back each shiver which threatened to trickle down her spine. It was years ago that she had marked these passages; carved the symbols into stone. The first a warning, the rest directions. If any but her were foolish enough to chance them, they’d at least have a chance to make it through.

There had been another route to take until the dwarf had collapsed the roof in. It was longer but less treacherous and much less frigid. As it was, this was more direct and quicker. The sooner she was free of the dwarf, the better. She could go about her life as she had done for years. Alone. Free of his judgement. What right did he have anyway? He lived in a mountain; not so different from her caverns.

She tucked her free hand into her jacket pocket. Her fingers were growing numb and the cold had seeped through her scarf, nipping at her cheeks. She had long run out of wool to weave more cloth and her mending had done little to reinforce her fraying attire. She mourned the warmth of the spring, tempted to turn back. Perhaps upon her return she would visit it again.

“What is that?” The dwarf caught her elbow, holding her back as a low growl pierced the dark. She was shocked by his touch and he quickly released her as she flinched. She had been alone for countless decades. She hadn’t encountered another in as many, let alone felt the warmth of their hands.

“Shh,” She raised her finger, “Frost wolves. This is their territory and it is birthing season. They will be protecting their young.”

“Frost wolves?” He scoffed. “I’ve read of those in storybooks...as a child.”

She looked at him in the low lantern light. He was mocking her, she realized as she narrowed her eyes. He didn’t believe she was a greenling, he thought her a maddened halfling hiding in the caves in her delirium. She snarled and turned the corridor before, the shadow of a furried tail at the end of it. The beast was circling, trying to block their way.

Enezra unbuttoned the top her jacket, letting in the chill as she reached for her sling. She pulled a perfectly rounded rock from the pouch at her belt and set it in the leather. Thorin did not see the subtle movement, his sight and senses shrouded by the dark eating away at the lamplight. He only watched with unveiled concern as she stepped ahead of him, speaking in the ancient tongue to the animal growling menacingly at them.

“We are not here to harm you. We only seek to pass through.” She said to the wolf. Its growl grew deeper, teeth bared. “We have no ill-intent. Your young are safe from us.”

She heard the large paws edge closer, the rumbling warning still in effect. “Ez,” Thorin warned. She clutched her sling and felt the cold nose touch her finger tips, sniffing at her. “I have never harmed your kind. Let not our truce end here.”

The wolf nudge her hand and retreated, turning warily back as her growl died in the air. Ez watched her turn the next corner, returning to her young sleeping in some hidden nook. The greenling exhaled and turned back to her companion, a shadow looming behind him.

“Duck,” She hissed as the screech of a snow cat rose. Thorin did so with confusion and she swung her sling, loosing the stone into the jaw of the pouncing predator. The snow cat whimpered as it fell back and Ez took another stone, flinging it in quick succession. “Go.” She shouted, a third stone following, “Now.”

Stinging from the pelt of rocks, the snow cat retreated. Thorin straightening up as he shone the lamp in its direction. Its silver fur reflected the flame just before it faded back into the dark.

“We should hurry,” Ez advised as she turned back to their path, “The ruckus will only bring more.”

He nodded and quietly followed, falling into step next to her. The silence which ensued was thick, filled with the words he longed to say. “What is it?” She prompted gruffly.

“What did you say to the wolf? How did it understand you?” He asked.

“Oh, did you not read of my kind in your storybooks? Of our earthly ways and natural tongues?” She taunted.

“Greenlings died out at least a century ago,” Thorin argued.

“You don’t have to believe me. I am what I am regardless of your opinion.” She shrugged. “But I know these corridors and I will get you out.”

She sensed his gaze on her. His eyes lingering as he considered her contemptuous tone. “Thank you.” He finally said. “For saving me.”

“I didn’t save you,” She countered, “I saved me. Snow cats are not so easily reasoned with.”

She led him down the next corridor, trying to hide the fierce shiver which threatened. As her adrenaline waned, the cold returned to her bones. She peeked over at the dwarf’s thick cloak, lined with fur and made of thick black hide. She envied him for just a second before peeling her attention back to their journey. The quicker they were free of these corridors, the sooner she’d be warm again.

Thorin

“In here,” Enezra stopped at yet another of her hidden chambers. “It is late. I thought we’d be further by now, but the night only brings more beasts. We best set up camp for the night.”

“You don’t come here often, do you?” He wondered as she shifted the narrow door. She slipped through but Thorin had to turn sideways to enter.

“Not in years,” She assured him, “But there is no one else down here to disturb it.” She took the lamp from him and crossed to a small chest hidden in the far corner of the chamber. She pulled forth three torches, lighting one as she lifted it and turned back to illuminate her sight. “Damn it.”

Half the ceiling had fallen to rubble and only a small space remained to them. They were so far down that the avalanche blocked any trace of the outside above. She set her torch between two stones to stand in the corner and lit another one for the opposite corner. A pit of ash remained and a spit stood over it, long-unused. Thorin watched as Enezra took a bundle from the other side of the small chest. She unwrapped the linen to reveal three thick logs and a bale of long sticks.

“It should last us the night,” She explained as she set to arranging the kindling.

He watched her hands as they shivered and she tried not to fumble the logs. She removed her gloves, tucking them away. Her fingertips had turned bright red even through the wool. He realized how thin her clothing truly was. Her cloak was threadbare and her jacket offered little protection from the chill they had been walking through all day.

Thorin glanced down at his cloak. It was a king’s cloak; thick and fur-trimmed. It was one of many he owned back in Erebor. His tunic and coat were just as luxurious and his boots had new soles; Enezra’s barely clung to her worn hide boots. Even through all this, the dwarf had felt frigid cut of the cold. The woman, in much less, didn’t even complain.

“T-tea,” She frowned as she chattered against her will. She sniffed and search through her pack. “It should warm us up while we wait for our dinner.” She took out the kettle and filled it from her canteen. She hung it on the spit as she took out her small pot, a strip of rabbit jerky, some leeks, and a single bent carrot. He wondered where she came by all this in these barren depths.

“Can I help?” He offered as he knelt beside her, pulling forth his knife and taking the carrot before she could answer. He cut it into fine slices and added to the bits of jerky she was tossing into the pot. She nodded in gratitude and they carried on in silence until they finished.

The kettle trembled and whistled and she poured the tea as she had the nights before. The rest of the water she added to the pot and hung it in place of the kettle. As she sat back atop her feet, a poorly concealed effort to warm them, Thorin handed her a cup, hoping it would turn her reddened fingertips back to their natural honey tone.

“Thanks,” She looked away abashed. She was more clever than she let on and realized what the dwarf was doing. He didn’t know himself why he was so concerned. She had lived down here long enough; survived the cold before.

Few more words passed between them as they awaited their evening meal. He recalled the harsh tones they had exchanged earlier. He shouldn’t have mocked her as he had done but she really didn’t have much of a sense of humour. He felt even guiltier knowing that she had saved him.

The stew was thin but tasty nonetheless. Thorin drank hungrily, watching the girl as she tried to hide her eager gulps. When she finished, she set aside her bowl and pulled her cloak tighter to her figure as she leaned against the wall, legs bent to her chest.

“It’ll be an early morning,” She said, “We should sleep. Put another log on the fire before you do.”

The chamber was so cramped that the fire took up most of its area; neither had enough room to lay down with the pile of rocks closing them in. Thorin stood from the other side of the pit, setting the last log into it. He turned to where Enezra sat against the wall, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back.

He unclasped his cloak as he neared her. He lowered himself beside her, spreading it over both of them as he sat. Her eyes snapped open as she looked over and pushed away his fur cloak. “I’m alright,” She insisted, “Please, it’s yours.”

“It’s big enough for the both of us,” He returned, shoving it back over her knees, “How well do you think you’ll sleep with the cold still in you?”

She sighed, staring him down as she slowly ran her fingers along the fur trim. “Are you sure?”

“As long as you don’t mind sharing,” He replied.

She nodded and let him put the cloak over her, tugging it up over her shoulders herself. “Thank you,” She said quietly. He could see her shame at accepting his courtesy. He wondered how long it was since any had offered her more than the sharp tip of their fang or blade.

“Not at all,” He assured her. He noticed as how she made sure not to lean against him; keeping three inches between them. As if she feared to touch him. She would be warmer if she let him closer but he would not argue further with the obstinate girl.

Thorin closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He was tired. Another day of cold was ahead of them and he relished the night of sleep ahead. A brief reprieve from the grimness of these cave. One day closer to the Mountain.

#stone shadows #series #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #oc #fic #part 7

18 notes · View notes

sockpansy · 6 years

Text

Lost At Sea

Hey! This is a fic based off of two drawings done by the amazing @thelazyblueshipper who gave me permission to write a fic!

Warnings: blood mention, ghosts, kidnapping (its too a mermaid) and let me know if I need to tag anything else!

_______

Roman had wanted to do it for years, ever since the pirates found out about them. Ever since they started to take, kill, sell their kind.

Roman wanted to stop them.

But Logan wouldnt let him.

"Its too dangerous Roman! As long as we stay farther down and away from nets, we can be safe."

"But then we have no freedom! We are confined to the deep waters only! We have to watch how fast we go, we can even float on the surface to sunbath!"

"But if they catch us, we die." Logan spat. "If we go after them, we Will get caught, then what do you suggest we do?"

Roman fell silent, not able to make a reasonable agrument.

"There are ships we could fix up easily and-"

"No Roman."

That had been the end of that argument.

_____

"Help! Help!" Patton sped through the water in search of someone, anyone who could help.

He found Roman and Logan, who had heard him and came as fast as they could.

"Patton! Calm down padre, what's wrong? Predator? Underwater volcano?"

"Virgil!" Pattin cried.

Logan looked around."where....is Virgil? Patton what happened?"

Patton's tears floated in thw water. "I just wanted to go above for a little bit, i didnt know they were so close! I didnt know there net was so close!"

The rest was lost in cries, but it was obvious what happened. Virgil had saved Patton but got caught by pirates instead.

"Roman." Logan starred at the water above them.

"We need a ship."

_____

Luckily, Roman knew were a ship was in...ok condition and not filled with water completely.

"How did you even find this?" Patton asked as they arrived at a small islabd with an old ship on it. It had a hole in the side and a broken mast,but was rather alright.

"Before we started to stay under, I found it."

"We better get to work if we want to get Virgil back before they reach a port then." Logan was still unsure, but...they couldnt just leave Virgil,to be sold or...killed, if he wasnt already.

_____

It took a few days to fix the ship, but they found swords, and old clothes they could wear when they transform in homaniod forms. Roman was the self proclaimed captain, with logan as the firdt mate who has some common since. Patton was the one incharge of leading the way to Virgil right now.

But logan still worried. They only had three people, a small, barely afloat ship, and they are all secretly mermaids. They were up agianst a full pirate crew, on a big ship, who catch mermaids.

They needed a plan.

"We need a plan." Logan said one night. "We can't just attack, we will be killed or captured."

Patton looked down."if I just stayed away..."

"Patton, we have been over this, it isnt your fault, and we sre gdtting virgil back." Roman said, tilting his captain's hat up.

Patton sniffled but nods, pushing his new glasses up. (He put on a random pair and found out that he can see a lot better with them, same with Logan)

Logan,nods as he thought."we could go under the cover of night, but even then they will have people awake and ready to fight..."

"What about during a storm?" Roman suggested.

"What?"

"Well they will be busy with the storm right? We can show hi in mermaid form, get in, pretend to be part of the crew, get virgil out and only have the fight if we get caught." Roman suggested.

Patton lit up."that could work! Its dark during storms, and...and if they see our patched up ship, they can think its a ghost ship!"

Logan nods along as he listened. "It...could work...that we need some way to have our clothes when we are in the water so we can change quickly..."

Roman hummed."we could...get dressed on there ship?"

Logan shook his head."too wierd and supious."

"We could pretend to be crew members who fell over?" Patton suggested.

Logan nods, "yes...but only one of us, it will be easier to get one then...and other two will stay on the ship and act as ghosts." He grinned ad the plan started to come together.

_____

Virgil didnt know how much time past. He remembered pushing Patton away from a net, just cor his tall to get caught, he remmebered being hauled up over the ocean. He remembered being out in a barrel filled with water, and a lid being put on with holes so he could breath. But he lpst count of the days and nights he spent in there.

He had given up after day two, accepting his fate.

He could feel a few rain drops through the holes in the lid, and couls hear yelljng do the ship didnt get blown off course.

Then he heard screams for help.

A scream from the water.

That sounds way to familiar.

Pattin was screaming for help. They caught him.

Virgil started to fight inside the barrel, knowing full well that it was tied up so he coulsnt move it or knock it over, but he ahd to try. Patton was in danger. Why wasn't Roman or Logan with him!

He could hear pattin on the ship.

"Thank you, i fell off in the storm."

Wait, what?

He couldnt hear much after that, because there was yelling about a...ghost...ship?

It wasnt long before his barrel was opened and Patton stared st hin in human form. He,smiled and held a finger to hus mouth to tell Virgil to stay quiet. Held helped Virgil out of the barrel and threw him over into the ocean, and Patton jumped in after him, transforming once he was in the water and gathering up his clothes.

"Hey Virgil, long story short, we need to get to the pirate ship."

"But we just got off it!" Virgil said, before coughing. He hasn't used his voice in a while. Patton just grabbed his hand and swam to a different, smaller boat.

Patton helped viegil onto the boat and Virgil saw Roman and Logan standing and facing the other boat in human forms, as if daring them to attack in thus storm.

Patton put on his clothes as he got out some for Virgil. "Ok, short story longer, im so sorry I got you captured! We fixed up an old boat Roman found and came up with a plan to save you. I pretend to have fallen overboard in a storm, they gwt me up, i fins you, Roman and Logan pretend to be pirates on a ghost ship, and we are all free!" By the time he finished talking, Virgil was dressed and then hugged tightly.

"Im sorry i wasnt more careful Virgil...you could have been..could have..could...could have..." Patton sniffles aa he held virgil tight.

Virgil hugged back."im right here pat, i promise, id do it agian to save you in a heartbeat."

_____

The ship turned away from the other and left the storm. Once a safe distance away, Virgil was covered in hugs.

Virgil smiled as he stood and loked st his pirate clothes, "ya know guys...why dont we do this all the time?"

"Uh Virgil, I dont think getting caught is something id like to makw a habit." Roman suggested.

"No, i mean...saving mermaids. You guys have a plan that worked. And with an extra person, you have a bigger crew. Why cant we save more of our kind before we are the only ones left?"

"I agree with Virgil." Patton smiled. "And i like being in the sun." He giggled.

Roman tipped his hat grinning. "And ive been wanting to do this forever!"

They all looked st Logan. The first mate. The logical one. The one who fixes plot holes and makes sure everyone is safe.

He gave a smile. "Well, we have to name the ship first, dont we?"

____

It took a while, but soon, a legend was born for the small crew.

Legends that say that if you are a pirate crew transporting mermaids, avoid storms.

For in a storm, you will come across a ship called 'the Siren' with ghosts on it.

No one knows how many are on the ship. They only know that there are always four who will always be seen at one point.

There is a boy with square glasses and a dark blue bandana around hus forehead. If you see him in the ship, watch him, for if he gets into the water, your ship will sink.

Then there is a boy with round glasses, and a light blue scarf around his waist. He seems sweet, but it will be too late when you realize it is him. He is a spy who boards your ships as crew. He is the reason you get caught.

There is a boy with purple hair and eyes. Much like dark blue, beg that he stays on the ghost ship. If you don't see him, then you must fear everything around you. You never know what he will take. Food, gold, your life, maybe all three.

Then there is the captain, who stands at the end of the bowsprit, sword held at his side. It is said that his eyes are red with the blood of those who he has fought, and if you get close enough to see the color, he will add your blood to his eyes as well.

The legends warns you to be wary of boys with light blue eyes on on your ship. To stay clean of storms. To release mermaids when you see the ship, so many you will live to tell about the encounter.

Legend says that it is safer to let mermaids be free.

____________________

Yes i was tempted to name the ship lamp.

And done! First off, i know i kinda skipped around, but in happy with how thiz this turned out!

Bowsprit: the poll thingy at the front of a ship

Also! Some things i wanted to to say! The crew does get bigger. Some mermaids they save decide to,join, others will stay until they heal if they are injured then leave. Others stay to repay a debt, so the amount of crew members change.

At the end, the legend talks about each side a bit, and i wsnt to explain why i chose to do that the way i did!

Logan is logic. He is smart and you can do a lot of damage (probably) to the bottom of a boat if you know what your doing. He breaks boats (with help from other crew members) to make them sink. But only some.

Patton is morality. He is cute and sweet and he volunteered to be the spy. He joins crews and finds out how many mermaids are on board and finds a way to get the ship into a storm. Sometimes he will disappear from a crew ship a few days ans reappear like he never left. He swims right under it and will go inform the sides about the boat by leaving at night.

Virgil as Aniexty. He causes fear. Patton will tell him were gold is, food rations, and on occasion, jerks who need to be taught a permanent lesson. He sneaks on and steals, throws overboard, does anything to inconvence the pirates.and because well...they are pirates,too, they need money!

Roman is creativity. And he is the captain. And what js scarier than the red eyss he has? He started the rumoe about his eyes himself, and does sword fight on occasion. I just feel it fits him to stand dramatically xD

Part 2:

https://sockpansy.tumblr.com/post/179462778629/gaining-a-crew

#Sanders sides #lost at sea au

44 notes · View notes

satire-please · 6 years

Text

Take a Sad Song and Make it Better - Part 2

Batfam Big Bang Day 2 - Sick = Batfam member being taken care of or attacked by an army of motherhens.

Jason makes soup for some ungrateful shits

Part 1

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

“But I hate you little shits most,” Jay says, shouldering the guest bedroom door open roughly, He slams the tray of soup and crackers on the bedside table between the two coughing, sniffing invalids. “Honestly, what kind of dumb fuck takes a swim in the dead of winter?”

“Screw you, Jason. I wouldn’t call being chained and thrown into the harbor a leisurely swim.” Tim says venomously. But unfortunately, he doesn’t look much of a threat when his lap is blanketed in white tissues. In fact, there might not even be a single space of the bedspread left not covered in the clumped wet balls.

It had been cold. So cold when the thugs shoved them off the boat. The water slammed against their chests like ice. Tim managed to get one breath in before the harbor creeps over his domino mask, his hair and to sucks them under. Tim has five minutes. He can hold his breath for five minutes. Has Damian been trained? How long—

Jay raises both his eyebrows, “Excuse me? This is the thanks I get? I slave all day in the kitchen for yer bony asses and instead of a single thank you, it’s screw you? Ouch, Babybird.” His hands motion grandly to the food tray.

“Must you poison us too, Hood?” Damian stares at the bowls with suspicion. “Have we not suffered enough as it is?”

The infidels had been clumsy, roughly chaining them back to back. A shoddy job. It should have provided loopholes, space from hurried mistakes, but alas they focused enough on limiting the use of their hands. The gang yelled when a new pair of black boots landed on the insufficient sailboat’s deck. The foolish men must have thrown them over as a hopeful distraction for the Bat. But as the metal links dig into Damian’s arms, quickly turning the same temperature as the bay, he knows they were wrong.

“Now why would I do that.” Jay crosses his arms over his chest, looming over first Dami and then Tim. “That’s a waste of food. If I want ya to die, I’d just shoot ya in the head. Save Alfred a grocery trip.”

“Thanks, Jay,” Tim says sarcastically.

“Aw shucks, yer welcome.”

Tim doesn’t bother kicking towards the surface yet. They tossed them in the shallows, this group doesn’t usually care about the efficiency of a kill but the fun of it. From reports, he knows the game is to cruelly toss victims in water only a few feet deeper than their prey. Giving an illusion of hope when they kick, hop, jump from the river bed. Only for them gasp and be helplessly pushed back down by oars or hands. The sadistic game can last for hours...until their playtoy finally loses strength or gives up.

He opens his eyes in the filth of the bay and peers around looking, looking...there!

Steam flows up from the bowls, the aroma quickly fills the room. Tim takes a deep breath, the smell tempting him, while a stomach gives a quiet rumble in the next bed. When neither boy makes a move towards Jason’s generous sacrifice, Jason shifts his weight to his hip and taps his foot with a scowl.

Damn it, he knows his cooking is legit, man.

“What? Wouldja like it to be Dick’s cooking instead?” Both bedridden boys look over to each other for a second, then to Jason, to the tray and back again. Then Tim and Damian frantically struggle as one to escape the sheets to get to the bowls first. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

The tension in Jason’s limbs, like they’d notice pffftt, finally eases as the bowls barely stay full for a minute. The moment they’re empty, he gives them a second helping and glares at Tim when he wrinkles his nose at the dish. “This is no time to eat like a bird, princess.”

“But I don’t need–”

“Don’t need nothing, ya need to give yer body the good stuff to fight. And ain’t ya lucky Dick’s off planet? He’d give ya the worst puppy eyes and be all over ya, both of ya for that shitty attitude.”

Damian and Tim shudder. Dick has always won the worst Motherhen award. Always. (Alfred is the sneakiest though.)

Damian puts his spoon down. He is...content, how odd. “I suppose that is a fair point. What I do not understand is how the two of us could be put in the same room, in a mansion such as this, forced to accept each other’s presence against our will during recovery.”

Damian conserves his energy the best he can. Watching the bubbles that escape him, minding his surroundings as his ears go numb. Their bodies jerk against the current as Drake suddenly drags them in the direction of his choosing. His slight height and longer legs give a mild advantage, but Damian does not hinder or fight Drake at a time such as this. Surely Drake has a purpose, a plan if he is as clever as Grayson has repeatedly claimed. He walks carefully backward, mindful not to trip on the debris and garbage littered on the harbor bottom. If they lose their balance, escaping to the surface will be more...difficult. His heel hits something hard and he twists to the best of his ability around Drake, a car!

“Alfred’s orders. He said it’s the perfect way to condense care and meet yer needs more efficiently. The man plays the best vindictive shtick if ya know what I mean.”

“It’s the spite. He needs it to stay alive and old.” Tim adds. He sets his bowl on the tray with a sharp clink.

Two minutes. The old beetle is brown with rust, one broken door floating on its hinges. It’s just what they need, Tim hauls them on the roof of the vehicle and stands on his tiptoes. His head breaks the surface of the water and he takes a greedy gulp of air. Smog has never tasted so sweet.

Then he feels the body lashed to his struggle and squirm violently.

“Robin? What are you–” And he notices it. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the top of Damian’s head, his wet dark spikes. But that’s it. His face is still submerged.

Fuck.

No. Tim bites his lip, tearing it and moves his arms under the chains for any wiggle room. He sucks in his ribs, not on his watch. Not another Robin dying on his watch. He pulls the boy up an itch up his body, two...and leans over. He hears a wonderful, desperate gasp before his head goes back in the water. Good. That’s fine. He can stay under.

Besides Tim’s got another five minutes.

On the bed somewhere, something buzzes and vibrates. Tim pats the covers awkwardly until he unburies a phone.

It’s 7:30.

He promptly reaches across the bedside table. His fingertips nudging a small orange bottle until it slides and topples over. It rolls closer to the preteen. Success is his. “Meds, Damian. Every four hours remember?”

The younger boy huffs but drops the bottle into his lap, “You as well, Drake. I believe Alfred has synced our medication schedules for this purpose.”

“What purpose?”

“To ensure the other does not conveniently forget.”

“I’ve never done that!”

“I disagree. In fact, shall we pull up the records to call that bluff? I am certain Oracle or Alfred have some sort of accounts on the matter.”

“...No.” Jay guffaws at the cowed expression on Tim’s face. Little do these two know that’s one of his tiny jobs to keep the suckers alive today. Stuff their pills down their throats if necessary. How lucky for them that he just gets to be an extra eye, to watch them like a hawk, to take note of how Damian pops open the bottle and swallow his meds dry. But–

“Drake,” states Damian exasperatedly.

“What?

Jay adds his two cents with a point, “So what about them meds, replacement?”

“Oh.” Tim looks to the side. There’s a long sigh, but finally, the asshat puts down his phone to finally get the good drugs in him. Okay, so it’s a bit of a setup. Replacement ain’t got some pills but the fancy stuff since he’s you know, missing an organ. The IV stand almost leans against the wall, it’s needle already burrowed in the back of Tim’s hand. Tim opens the high-end antibodies and carefully feeds it into a tubing of the hanging IV bag. The dying light reflects off the clear fluid. Jay almost considers helping, since Tim lightly curses, his arm stretched awkwardly above him.

Nah. Replacement...no Babybird got’s this. He’ll get all stiff and offended if Jay steps in.

They watch as Tim’s posture goes lax. His eyes narrow in annoyance but soon he’s going to pass out and there’s nothing he can do about it. Gods, he hopes they don’t watch him sleep again.

They do it with this vindictive glee that he could do without.

Damian sniffs, but nods with approval, “Good. It would be ridiculous if you wasted away after what we had to endure in that last venture.”

There are no stars in Gotham’s sky. Not from what he can see being propped up over Drake’s back in this manner. His chest strains as his lungs finally fill. He could do without the idiotic trembles as his body submits to the cold, yet he’s avoided one death and that shall suffice him for now.

“What took you so long, Red Robin? Did you not notice our difference in heights until the last instance. I swear, that you could become any sort of vigilante is beyond me. But be assured, soon Father will finish and rescue us from this silly predicament.”

There is no answer.

“D-Drake?”

Their bodies bob slightly, Damian thinks of how the dead float.

“DRAKE!”

He rocks, flails until under the water his wrist is squeezed tightly. Oh. Drake is not dead...at least not yet. Father, no Grayson would not be pleased over his incompetent predecessor’s possible demise.

So he focuses on the sailboat and screams one word. “BATMAN!”

Jay looks back and forth between the two and smirks. Feelings, these boys are shit at them, but he bets if he put a gun to them, it would be a fight of who leaps in front of the other first. He puts his money on the demon brat, the jumpy monkey. He remembers how Bruce stormed into the cave, one bird in the crook of his arm, the other over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. How he yelled for Jason to prepare the medi-beds and Alfred taking in the pale skin of the two boys went straight for the emergency heaters.

It had been a rush.

A chance of sepsis is not fun. Neither is dealing with hypothermia with the pint-sized preteen. You would think being closer to hell, or his genetics would keep him warm, but no, Jay had to massage the circulation back into those toes so the kid could keep them.

It had been a close shave.

But they’re Bats. Surviving is what they do.

“Well girls, it’s time for a nap,” he pulls out a book. A real one. Like get these shits some real literature, “And I gotcha the best bedtime story, so shut up and listen.”

“I do not require such frivolous–”

“I said shut yer yap before I suffocate ya with a pillow.” He thumbs open the first page, “There we are, ‘It was a pleasure to burn…’”

Tim graciously gives a wet tissue to Damian to lob at Jason. Damian takes the ammo grateful, continues to take it as Jason proceeds to dodge. And be successful at it. His voice melodious and soothing in its own rough way. Over time, it causes Damian’s throws to be more erratic, wide...slow. It causes Tim’s shoulders to sink deeper into the bedding, a different kind of drowning.

“‘We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?'”

Yeah, Jay thinks he could do that. Be the best botherer in the world.

‘Bout time he got started on it.

#day 2 sick #BatfamBigBang #Batfam Big Bang #my writing #batfamily #bros being bros #sick #hurt/comfort #quotes from Fahrenheit 451

81 notes · View notes

penelxpebradley · 5 years

Note

5 times almost

Five times almost…

I . Limerick. 2014. He’s trying his luck and certainly trying her patience at this point. Not that’s not handsome and charming, because he is, but all she wants to do is drink in peace and ignore the impending family ‘fun times’ she’ll have to engage him. Instead he insists on sitting next to her and engaging her in what starts out as small talk and gets increasingly crude, and they click glasses together, competing as to who will be the fastest to down their drinks. It is 11.50 and the call for last orders has them both slumped at a corner table, him whispering in her ear about how his place is only a ten minute walk away. She protests half heartedly, but the protest gets even weaker when they do the next shot on the tray they’ve been steadily pounding through. It is 12.15 and the bar tender has turfed them out and they stand at the taxi rank. He’s trying to tempt her back, and it’s almost working except for the fact that she knows she has to be presentable at 10am the next morning. Still that doesn’t stop her hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer for warmth as she waits for the free cab. When it arrives she pulls the door open and he tries one last time, both of them stumbling against each other, and before he can press his lips against hers, she’s holding her palm against his mouth. “I’m a good girl, and good girls don’t go home with men they meet in a dingy bar” she tells him, slipping her card into his jeans pocket. “Besides, you don’t even know my name” she adds, before she drops into the cab and slams the door shut, leaving him standing in the street.

II . She doesn’t know where he’s been. Quite frankly she doesn’t want to know. She waited at the bar for an hour for him to turn up all to no avail. Angrily she retreated home, but not before she took the opportunity to stand in the street and scream profanities down the phone at him about how useless he was and how she was going to murder him. She’s pouring herself another glass of wine when she hears the buzz of the intercom, which she ignores, already knowing who it is. He’s persistent though, and when he gets no response he tries the other doors until someone lets him up. They’ve done this dance before, and she stands in the hallway waiting for him, arms folded across her chest as she glares at the drunken mess that is standing in the hallway of the apartment complex. “Penny, baby” he slurs, wrapping his arms around her. She can smell the alcohol on his breath and can see the split lip that wasn’t there the evening before, and shoves him off her as he goes in to kiss her. “Get fucked” is her snappy response before she flounces to her door. “And don’t sleep in the hallway again, it’s just fucking pathetic” she adds with extra malice before she slams the door shut in his face.

III . They are sitting together, watching Netflix, trying for once to be a normal couple ( though they both know it won’t last ). Her head is resting in his lap and he’s casually playing with her hair, though he doesn’t really know he’s doing it. They’re both watching The Office, but for the life of her she’s not really following who half the characters are. The day has been long as the case files are piling up. Besides, they’re not really watching it so much as watching each other, waiting for the moment one of them drops this pretence. Their gaze catches for a second, both of them looking for some kind of understanding in the other, and she reaches up to hold him. His phone buzzes on the table, and the moment is gone. He reaches for the phone, and leaves her alone as he takes the phone call to the other room.

IV . It’s been seven months since they last broke up. Only this time it seems to have been official. She doesn’t look back and neither does he, but nor does she regret what went between them. She regrets how it ended, she regrets the anger and recrimination, but not enough to genuinely take them back. She is in Pravda alone, and he is baiting for a fight. He spends the evening pestering her, like he used to, like that first night they met, but the retorts are angrier, filled with venom and a distaste for the man who refuses to leave her alone. “Do you know what Fitz, fucking fine, just leave me the fuck alone you pathetic fuck” is her last retort as she downs the last of her wine and stands to leave. He follows her though, never really able to follow boundaries even when they have been set in stone, and entwines his hand through hers. “Come on Pen, one last time? For old times sake?”. She considers it for a moment. It has been a while, and it is a Friday night. And it’s not like she’s got anything planned. But then she remembers, she remembers the fights and the anger and the bitterness and it’s just not worth it. But she has her fun first, dragging him into the alleyway next to the bar and pushing him up against the wall, holding him in place, a habit of theirs from a lifetime ago. She moves in closer, running her lips across his neck and up to the corner of his mouth. She travels further, resting at last by his ear. She whispers against his ear, her voice husky. “Baby, I wouldn’t go there if you were the last man on earth”. Then it’s done and she pulls away from him, stepping out into the alleyway. “Sober up Fitz”.

V . He’s been in a fight but that’s nothing new. What’s new is that he’s turned up at her door and she’s let him in. Her glass of wine sits abandoned on the side table as he sits on her sofa and talks, not really making any sense for the alcohol he’s consumed has taken over his brain. She presses a cold flannel against the cuts, and holds another one over his bruised fists. Eventually there is just silence and they sit there content for a while, listening to the tick of the clock in the corner of the room. She moves into her bedroom, returning a few minutes later with sheets and blankets which she spreads out over the sofa for him, before she kneels in front of him. Carefully she clasps his face between his hand, tilting his face up to dab the flannel to pick up the scabbing blood stains, and as she takes the flannel away she leans up to him to press her lips against his for a brief second. “You can stay here tonight” she tells him as she pulls away, looking into his eyes, and softly stroking his hair. “Don’t drink the entire bottle of Scotch”. Slowly she rose from her knees, squeezing his hand between hers before she moves away to her own room. “You can’t do this forever Fitz. You know that right?” she asks him, aware that she’s never going to get an answer from him. That’s just who he is. Owen Fitzpatrick, one hand in the gutter the other in blood. Quietly she goes into her room, shutting the door behind her. When she comes into the living room the next morning, the sheets have been folded up, he is gone – and of course, so is the bottle of Scotch.

Ft: @owensfitzpatrick

#lord forgive me for this trash i give #( ft. owen fitzpatrick )#( ran after the devil trying to get my soul back → owen fitzpatrick )#( there is bravery in speaking aloud | answered )

2 notes · View notes

unsolvedbs · 7 years

Note

Shyan prompt: Shane's dog starts barking, Ryan is convinced there's a spirit in his house.

⇣ Bless your soul for this prompt i had a little too much fun oops ⇣

Ryan was sure that this time, he had definitely found a ghost. And of course, it would be nowhere else other than his skeptic coworker Shane Madej’s house. He was determined to investigate it, despite being recently terrified of the environment he had previously found rather calming than haunting. This investigation would also entail a night camped out and fully prepared for anything that may come at him.

Shane, on the other hand, definitely did not think there was a spirit in his house. In fact, he was actually more certain than ever as to why it wasn’t. And yet he kept his stupid little mouth closed, because he found this whole situation rather amusing.

Their night out together had gone relatively well with nothing out of the ordinary. Just them together with a few beers, snacks, and a movie, curled up on Shane’s couch.

That is, of course, until Ryan heard it almost directly behind him.

The animalistic whine sounded as if whatever thing had made it was right beside him, and made goosebumps run up and down his arms.

“Uh… Shane?” Ryan was frozen, hand rigid in his popcorn bowl, “Did you hear that? Please tell me you fucking heard that.” Shane glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and looked back at the television, trying not to give himself away by laughing.

“Er, no, I don’t think I did. Going a bit coo-ky in the head? The movie finally getting to you?” He bit his lip to stop a wave of mischievous laughter. Shane wondered how long this could keep up.

“No, I swear to god I heard something, look, I’m recording it on my phone again just in case- FUCK.” Ryan had almost dumped his popcorn bowl across the living room carpet as he stood up suddenly, running on the other side of the coffee table from the sofa. He was in full panic mode: face filled with terror and limbs ready to book it out of the room if the spirit made another move. “You have to have heard it that time, or you’re full of shit, Shane Madej.”

“I think I did hear-” Ryan nodded at him, for Shane only to continue to say, “the couch springs shift a bit. Wow, it’s not like it’s an old couch or anything.” Ryan seemed to be at a loss of what to say.

“You’re so full of shit, Shane Madej.”

“Maybe your little spirit just wants to watch Star Wars IV - a classic I may add - with us; hang out with us boys.”

“Stop joking about this, I swear I’m going to piss myself. We’re not supposed to be recording right now.”

“I’m sure I have a few more beers in the fridge. Sharing is caring.”

“Jesus man. Look, I have it on voice memos. I’ll take a closer look at the audio and everything.”

“So there’s a spirit in my house now?” Shane couldn’t help a small smirk as he watched Ryan glance nervously around the room.

“Yes, and I swear it must have fucking brushed across my ankle too as I was leaving, for good measure.”

“Wow, such definite evidence that you have conveniently forgot about up until this moment.”

“Shut up, Shane,” he narrowed his eyes at his friend, “I was so spooked I only concentrated on the audio because it would be the only thing you’d believe since I have the actual evidence.”

“Well now that I guess my house is haunted-”

“Shit, by any chance do you have a camera here?”

“No.”

Ryan scratched his head, sitting down slowly on the floor: “I guess I’ll just have to use my phone camera then… I hope it’s good enough.”

“Well if we’re going to have a self-invited sleepover then…”

“Hey! I’m going to help you with your spirit problem!” he defended.

“Alright… help with my little problem… then I’ll get some sleeping necessities… you want to go all out, right?”

“This is serious business!”

“Alright, alright. Set up the blanket fort then, scaredy pants. I’ll find the flashlights and sleeping bags.”

“Don’t leave me with it for too long - it’s in this room, I know it.”

“I have a strange feeling it isn’t anymore,” Shane murmured, laughing as soon as he stepped out of the room.

Once he came back with everything he needed, Ryan was sitting crosslegged under a half-assed blanket fort, listening intently to his earbuds.

“I swear it’s a groan or something,” Ryan shook his head, muttering to himself.

“You can show it to me tomorrow,” Shane stated as he rolled out the sleeping bags, “For now, I want to get a good night’s rest for once.”

“I can’t believe you’re not more freaked out about this.” They both climbed in their sleeping bags, Ryan ready to capture any more evidence and the Star Wars Episode IV long forgotten on the sleeping TV.

“You know, I’m finally somewhere comfortable where I can sleep in my very own bed, and yet here I am, sleeping on my living room floor.”

“Shut up.”

“Sweet dreams.”

About 20 minutes passed without anything happening, other than either of the two occasionally shifting in their positions. Shane could hear that Ryan’s breaths were beginning to become steadier, only to pick up when there was even the slightest noise in the distance.

Just when Ryan was starting to lay down completely, a dog started barking from across the house. Ryan visibly flinched, and subconsciously jerked closer towards Shane. Shane shifted a little bit, searching Ryan for what he was possibly going to take out of what had just happened.

“What the fuck, dude. You heard that, didn’t you?”

“Mhm.”

“What kind of a… you don’t even have a dog… do you…” Shane made a rather noncommittal noise that could be taken either way, yet Ryan obviously took it as a no. “What the fuck, dude…”

“Go to sleep,” Shane murmured. As tempting as watching Ryan overreact would be, he was already starting to get a bit sleepy.

“Hey… Shane?”

“… Yeah?”

“What if it’s a werewolf?”

Shane rolled over to muffle his face in the sleeping bag fabric. Ryan sounded so genuine, almost as if they were sharing middle school secrets at an all girls sleepover. His whole body was shaking his tired self so much that even Ryan took notice of it.

“What?” he pouted, shoving Shane a bit, “You believe in bigfoot. Aren’t werewolves kind of the same?”

“No? How?”

“They’re both… furry creatures?”

“Are you saying they’re both furries?”

“Maybe they are. Do you only believe in furries?”

“I guess I do only believe in furries.” They both caught each other’s eyes for a few moments before bursting into soft giggles, rolling around in the limited confines of their pillow fort. “Seriously though, go to sleep.”

“… I’m leaving a sleep audio recorder thing on in case anything happens.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

They lapsed into silence once again, actually starting to fall asleep for real this time. Of course, that would not be the case, as Shane was rudely jolted out of his half-slumber to Ryan backed up as far as he could against him.

“What the hell?” Ryan pointed to the blanket on his side of the fort. It was moving rhythmically, as if someone was pushing it with a set frequency. It also sounded like there was something breathing on the other side.

Whatever it was stopped suddenly, and began moving away, closer to where the entrance of their blanket fort was. Ryan started freaking out, and buried himself into his own sleeping bag, as if hiding from the situation would help him avoid it. Shane watched the creature advance towards them, and struggled to keep quiet himself.

“Oh my god I can’t believe this is actually happening oh my god oh my god holy shit I’m too young to die…” Ryan started rambling, “Shane help me oH GOD SHANE FUCK IT’S ON ME WHAT THE FUCK IT’S ON ME IT’S CUTTING OF THE CIRCULATION IN MY LEG IS THIS WHAT POSSESSION FEELS LIKE SHANE.” He stopped, interrupted by Shane’s growing and obnoxious laughter. Shane was gone, losing it and growing short of breath as Ryan writhed in terror in his sleeping bag.

Curious as to why his friend was not panicking as he was, Ryan slowly peeked out to see a small dog eagerly greeting the two of them, wagging its tail quickly and wriggling up to meet them.

“Oh my god… Shane? Shane? I sWEAR TO GOD YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TONIGHT,” Ryan burst in frustration, gradually coming to a realization. He punched Shane’s arms and back as he rolled around wheezing, the dog getting between them to join the fun. “Why the fuck did you say you didn’t have a dog?”

“I… did… not…” Shane managed between breaths, “Got… her… recently…”

“You know what…” Ryan checked the stitched collar on the dog’s neck, “… Lacey… you’re the innocent one in all of this. Someone here has been a dickhead the entire night.” Lacey began licking him in greeting, sitting down so that she was cuddled up between the two friends.

“You have to admit that was pretty funny.”

“I really hate you, you know.”

Nevertheless, the three slept peacefully for the rest of the night, exhausted from all the excitement that had happened that evening. Whether or not there really was a spirit in Shane’s house, however, they would never know, as Ryan would eventually forget about the ‘evidence’ he had collected only for it to be lost in the countless other unnamed voice memos piled up in his phone.

The only thing that came out of that night was the picture of Lacey and Shane sleeping and Ryan with his eyes half open in the blanket fort together, saved as his homescreen for a long period of time as a vague memory.

#buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed #shane madej #ryan bergara #ask #rr-amen #my post #fics #organic produce

31 notes · View notes

neurunique · 5 years

Text

Hopefully this app don’t crash

Cause I’m about to write a RitalinRealisation🌈

First things first, I write so much shit before I get to the final point. So if ya get impatient skip to the end but trust me it’ll be WORTH IT.

was sitting in bed studying chemistry work when I realised something.

So for most of my life up until I started medication, I had symptoms of “bipolar 2”, ADD, autism spectrum, obsessive compulsive... etc. let’s just go short version and say I’m on the spectrum with a bit of manic depression occasionally (it’s honestly so rare I tried medication for it once and I turned into a zombie and I’ve received cognitive therapy for it so I’m STABLE that’s the main part) with VERY TEMPORARY and STRANGE attention span.

So let’s talk like... obsessions or “special interests”.

Whole life filled with obsessions where my brain just would. Not. Even. Try. To pay attention to ANYTHING other than the special interest; every conversation dictated by it etc, people be like can you talk about anything else? Like looool. Funny to look back at that (I still do it occasionally. It ain’t a bad thing I love it just damn it had some impact on those around me) and so when I got super obsessed my BRAIN would be like I Am SO HAPPY, I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS, THIS IS SO INTERESTING! TIS IS MY LIFE NOW. EVERYTHING REVOLVES around it, and it’s all I want to do, EVER. So like naturally my school grades were up and down during obsession phases, like, sometimes I’d get straight A in assignments I could relate TO THE OBSESSIONS. Like fuck me the train of thought would just COME. So I was good at that, most reports from school were like “Petal is amazing at what she’s INTERESTED IN but won’t even THINK about trying what she isn’t” (could’ve used Ritalin a long time ago tbh but irrelevant). Anyway anyway . DOPAMIne. That’s what I realised today. DOPAMIne and obsessions ! I draw write sing imagine... to do with the obsession and then bam dopamine. High of life . Who cares why, fights at home or rejection from peers it’s FINE I just DOPAMINE. It’s all I needed. And so yes, whenever I GO OFF MY MEDS IVE NOTICED

That like (why is Tumblr’s enter gap so huge ) I get that obsession mindset again, like I can’t do anything without the special interest. With my meds, the interest is still there, but my dopamine or mood is like LEVEL and not DEPENDENT on the obsession. Like I can do shit, study and converse and socialise and learn social skills I never did , with the dopamine levelled our. So like Ritalin doesn’t give me skills, it gives me balance . and when I go off it, I get “manic” as others see it, however it’s literally just the increase of dopamine due to the obsession dependence returning (literally opposite of drug dependence; the drug is the antidote and my brain is the dependence)

I’m literally just Sherlock Holmes addicted to my brain like a narcissist

AnywAaaay

So the times I’ve written bullions of fanfics about sonic? ~”manic episode” as they say MORE LIKE SUPER INVOLVED IN MY SPECIAL INTEREST

Gaming for ten hours to make one goal? Not manic just hyper focused because I love the game and the act and the repetition .

So yep. The conclusion is essentially this: my special interests are pervasive as fuck and luckily I can manage them with the use of awareness of sugar intake and dopamine levels otherwise influenced by things apart from medication; Ritalin helps me regulate dopamine but to be honest it sends me to sleep half the time (probably cu when I have the dopamine already, it’s like no sleepy time no mania for you); and it helps me be human - for the most part! I still burn out like a motherfucker, even on it - social interactions are draining during times of adjustment or stress (mostly always); I can only manage one or two a day now that I live with my partner. I could literally achieve a fucking whole novel if it was about my obsession (current ones are seven deadly sins and sonic of course although that ones kinda melting a bit, BAN FOR LIFE) without Ritalin to regulate myself, like I don’t feel dead inside on medication as some peopl describe it , I more feel like I can put aside those intense urges and addictions towards my obsessive behaviours and just carry on and FOCUS on things that aren’t the obsessions

Honestly if it wasn’t for the fact I get special interests, most of my symptoms would just be ADD. But ASD INCLUDES like special interests and social cues deterance (I been learning thougu, thanks to focus being level). So yeppp.

Oh also, Ritalin is more effective for me than Dexies because:

Dexies actually increase dopamine directly whereas Ritalin is simply a “dopamine reuptake” so like in my mind I feel like it doesn’t release dopamine , it simply does what the brain needs (my brain). Hence why people probably prefer aderall over Ritalin for study drugs whereas Ritalin helps me actually function,

If I’m tired, it’ll wake up a bit. Or it’ll send me to sleep. If I’m deep in mania or dependence on obsess, it’ll send me to sleep or bring me back to reality.

Antipsychotics don’t work on me; they make the world blurry and fuzzy and confusing; I am not psychotic and it doesn’t calm me down and it just makes me more anxious.

Tried to ask for benzos for when I’m anxious but doctor was like no ;.; good thing I am relearning my therapy skills.

I am extremely high functioning as an aspie, but the requirements to work thirty hour week jobs or 9-5 will just never be there for me. In terms of social burn out, even once I’ve leRned all I can about people and friendships, my brain will not be able to process it. If I live alone it’s easier but I love my partner So. I need so much alone time and he knows that, sometimes I feel bad but it’s just who I am. And I have tried to work normal hours before but I just can’t. Inwant to be able to work from home one day, whether it’s art (gosh I wish) or research... people mistake me for having depression or social anxiety but while I have a few symptoms of both at times (anxiety is super severe tbh) it originates from things like social burn out and claustrophobia. I am managing though and doing therapy SOON yay. I just had to write all this cause I’m trying so hard in real life not to explain my Behavior, something I done my whole life; now that I have been screened and I’m being officially diagnosed with spectrum disorders it’s just so tempting to rigt my wrongs with people by saying hey! This is why I did stuff that was confusing!

Aspergers doesn’t define me though nor is it my identity; I’m still ME the me I’ve always been; it’s great to get help for it but I really have to pay attention to my strengths and meet goals. Cuz it’s so exciting to have these revelations !! Hence text post!! But when I say it in person I speak too fast or too slow or I mumble and people think I’m MANIC (yes I appear manic but honestly just excited orndopamine releaze) by the way don’t ever tell someone they come across as manic unless you know the legit symptoms and you can differentiate between someone who’s excited about a special interest or realisation, or whatever, and actual manic episodes (they tend to last over a week and are accompanied by many symptoms including no sleep or food aswell as sometimes a lot of things beyond physical capabilities; sitting on the toilet writing an essay while relaxed and in the middle of assignments ain’t mania Jsyk) lots of my aspie friends get super happy about stuff or connection and we seem manic but we ARENT so just listen to the exact words we use and respond accordingly. Like... that’s just me tho. Sometimes I’m upset and it’s different, that’s just regarding conversation about shit I’m excited about~~~

SO YEP 👍 THATS MY RANT THank you Edit: I am manic bipolar

#personal #this definitely doesn't represent everyones brain #its just mine #everyones brain is different #neurunique #asd #aspergers #autismspectrumdisorder

0 notes