#like I know I’m halfway done but idk I just feel so drained | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

24hlevi · 3 years

Note

can i just say that i've just finished reading that angst headcanons/imagines/scenarios or whatever it's supposed to be called about the boys reacting to y/n dying and i'm just...i'm just a sobbing mess.

it's well-written so 1000/10 for that, but whY MUST YOU ATTACK MY HEART IN THIS MANNER???? i love your work, but my poor heart ack-

btw is there any possibility to ask for a request for a same scenario but for kazutora, mitsuya, and hanma? like for kazutora's part, imagine if it wasn't yknow who died but its y/n 🥲

omg you’re so nice first of all thank you 😭 and OMG YES

TR Boys Reaction To You Dying Pt. 2

Tokyo Revengers Boys (Kazutora, Shuji, & Takashi) X Gn!Reader

Genre: Pure Angst

Warnings: Swearing, Suicide (kind of? it’s what happened to baji did so idk what to label it as 🤷‍♂️)

Hanemiya Kazutora:

All Kazutora could think was that it was all his fault that this happened. He was too caught up in his own world that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. He didn’t even know you had shown up to the fight until he stabbed you instead of Baji.

“Y/n?” Kazutora asked, dropping the knife immediately when he saw you standing between him and Baji, blood dripping onto the ground below you. He completely froze, not knowing what he had just done or why he even did it. “Baby, are you okay?”

You held onto the stab wound, coughing up blood as you looked at your boyfriend. “I just wanted you…to stop.” You choked out before collapsing to your knees.

Everyone had stopped and was watching you by now, shocked that you had even protected Baji from both sides when your whole body landed on the car below you. Spitting blood out of your mouth, you laid on your back, staring up at the blue sky that was dusted with white clouds.

“Y/n!”

You heard multiple people yell your name, but you couldn’t even tell who it was until you saw Kazutora kneeling beside you. “Y/n! Keep your eyes open, okay?!”

You shook your head from side to side, raising your hand to put it on Kazutora’s face before quietly speaking, “Give it to me, the knife.”

“What? Why? Look, Y/n you just gotta stay awake okay?” Kazutora spoke fast, clearly freaking out on both the outside and inside, not even caring about the gang fight anymore.

“Hand it over, Kazutora.” You said his full name which caused him to go quiet, staring down at you with saddened eyes before handing you the knife that already had your blood on it. “Thank you, babe. I love you.” You told him.

“I love you too, Y/n.” Kazutora said to you.

You bundled up your shirt at the top, putting it in your mouth so you had something to bite down on before plunging the knife into your stomach and twisting it around, then pulling it back out and dropping it.

Kazutora wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him as you lived your last moments, and he couldn’t even say anything. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I always will love you.” Was all he said after you died.

Kazutora then took the blame for killing you, resulting im him ending up in jail again but he wasn’t angry about it. He was just sad. So sad that he didn’t even try to get out of jail and get back into the gang life. He just sat around, continuously saying,

“It’s all my fault.”

Hanma Shuji:

Shuji swore that he would never allow you to get hurt while he was away doing gang activities that he didn’t want you included in. That’s why he always had someone beside you and a bodyguard to make sure you would always be safe. But even then, it didn’t work.

It was half past 1 in the morning when Shuji’s phone rang while he was with the other Valhalla members, beating up some random other gang member. Shuji stopped punching the other male, standing up straight and took his phone out of his pocket and opened it, answering. “Yes?”

“Shuji…”

Shuji’s breath hitched when he heard your shaky and quiet voice, and he immediately knew that something was wrong. “Y/n? Where are you, darling? Is something wrong?”

“I’m…at home. B-But someone..got in.” You tried your best to reply, but it was coming out shaky and slow.

“I’ll be there in five minutes. I promise, baby. Okay? I love you.” Shuji told you before turning around and looking at everyone, taking the phone away from his ear. “Kazutora, you’re in charge until I get back, understand? As for everyone else, just do what you’re told.” He said to everyone, proceeding to then walk out and make his way onto the streets when he started to sprint down the different roads.

Now he was just making sure that he made it to your place in five minutes like he said he would, which usually he would be able to do easily, but he was more determined now that he had heard something had gone wrong whilst he was away. Upon reaching your place, he saw the front door opened already and he quickly rushed inside. “Y/n?! Baby, where are you?!” He called out as he started to run through every room in the house.

He finally made it to your room where you laid on the floor, a puddle of blood beneath you as you were taking shallow and slow breaths. “Y/n!” Shuji yelled out your name, going over to you and kneeling down beside you. He grabbed you and lifted you up, holding you in his arms as he checked for your pulse. When he felt it he let out a sigh of relief but it was very weak and barely noticeable which made him realize he probably only had a few more moments with you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For not being here when I should have. I’m so fucking stupid, I should have just stayed here with you. I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry.” Shuji said to you, his voice cracking halfway through as tears welled up in his eyes.

You looked up at him and smiled lightly despite you dying in his arms. “It’s okay, Shuji. Don’t...blame yourself. I still love you.” You had never seen the boy cry before, that’s how you knew that he did really love you, that he wasn’t just saying it so he could manipulate or get things from you.

“I love you too.” Shuji whispered out.

Soon enough, your head went limp and your eyes were stuck open, all of the life drained from your face as blood dirtied the floor and Shuji’s clothes. “Y/n? Y/n? Wake up, please.” The boy pleaded to your now deceased body, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get you back. Not ever again.

Shuji became what you would have never wanted him to become, a terrible person who killed anyone if they even looked at him the wrong way, and most importantly, one that drank all of his feelings after the day was over, crying to himself over your death still.

Because he would never get you back. And he regretted that the most.

Mitsuya Takashi:

Takashi was the most important person in your life, just like you were to him. He had told you on multiple occasions that he wanted to be with you forever. And he thought it would really happen. Boy, was he wrong. So, so wrong.

You two were walking down the busy street, eating street food while going inside stores and just admiring the night scenery. Everything was going perfectly normal, until it all changed within a few seconds.

“Hey, babe?” Takashi said, looking over at you.

“Yeah?” You repled.

“Do you wanna get married some day in the future?”

The question that came out of your boyfrien’s mouth shocked you, and you didn’t know how to reply. You both were still teenagers, how the hell were you supposed to know? “Only if it’s you I’m marrying.” You aswered with a smile.

Takashi smiled back and pressed his lips against yours before pulling away quickly after. “Same here.” He told you.

Suddenly, car tires screeched on the black cement road and one zoomed around, an all black van. It’s windows opened and guns pointed out of them before they started to fire. Takashi quickly wrapped his body around you and covered you with his, not even caring if he would end up getting killed because of it.

After the car drove off, Takashi looked at you and asked in a frantic voice, “Y/n, are you okay?”

You looked at him, then down to your side, shaking your head as you spat out blood. Takashi’s eyes widened as he yelled out your name, but you had collapsed onto the ground, grabbing at your abdomen where the gunshot wound was, blood beginning to soak through your clothes and onto the sidewalk below you.

“No, no, no. Y/n! Stay with me!” He yelled, taking his phone out of his pocket and about to call the polce when you grabbed his hand, stopping him. “What?”

“Don’t. It’s okay.” You told him, a small smile on your face.

“It’s not okay! I can’t lose you! We-We just talked about getting married some day!” The boy continued to yell.

“Maybe...in another life, we will.” You spoke barely above a whisper, your vision starting to darken and turn blurry. “I love you, Mitsuya Takashi.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” Takashi replied to you but you didn’t respond. “Y/n?” He reached his hand over and shook you gently, and when you didn’t move he looked at your face, then realizing that you were gone. He sat on the ground, and put his hands over his face, beginning to cry.

Takashi cried and mourned over your death everyday, despite people telling him to move on. He just couldn’t. He would never be able to find someone he would love like he loved you. He knew that. So that’s how it remained the rest of his life. Lonely, and depressed.

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angstyaches · 2 years

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for the halloween drabbles thing, idk which characters you were thinking of but elliot and felix are my absolute faves, so maybe felix persuading elliot to go do some halloween stuff with him, they get a lot of candy, elliot cant really eat it bc of his extra vampire-ness but doesnt want to disappoint felix so eats some and gets sick? or something like that lol.

p.s. dont be disheartened, i cant like your posts bc non-kink blog but i periodically check your blog for new stories and i love them all!

Okay, I could absolutely see this happening as soon as I read the prompt, and I wish I'd given myself more time to properly work on it. He'd eat because Felix had gone to the effort of preparing everything, plus he'd been conscious of the fact that someone might notice him not eating.

The last few weeks have been a bit draining, and I thought I could bang something out, but all I've got is a snippet of the aftermath of this scenario. I just wanted to get something out before Halloween ended in the US, where I know most of you guys probably are.

Happy Halloween! Hopefully I'll be in a better head space to write requests soon.

Word Count: 443

CW: food intolerance/ingested food indigestible by species, stomach pains, vomit, slight emetophilia mention.

___

“What were you thinking?” Felix sighed, stooping down somewhere just beyond Elliott’s peripheral vision. His voice sounded like it was coming from behind a wall, and not directly beside him.

The only reply Elliott could give was a deep, guttural retch that could probably have been heard from inside the house. His eyes rolled back slightly as he leaned over the edge of Nancy’s flower bed and waited for something to come up, but his throat just constricted around nothing, like it was being squeezed by a fist.

Felix’s hand came to rest on Elliott’s back, gentle and tentative, like a whisper. Elliott shivered at the touch, though part of him was grateful for the attempted comfort. His own hands were braced against his knees as he squatted, almost curling up in a ball under the force of the pain that was ripping through his belly. It was a wonder he'd managed to run away from the party and make it to the back garden at all. For some reason, he hadn't thought of running to a toilet, even though that would have been closer.

The garden just felt more private.

“Everyone else was… eating,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and huffing deeply through his mouth to try to ride out the ache. He swayed a bit, almost losing his balance as he teetered on the balls of his feet.

Felix blew softly through his lips. “If everyone had been swearing allegiance to a pair of sweaty socks, would you have done that, too?”

“Fuck –” Elliott lurched forward, a mouthful of his stomach contents sloshing loudly from his stomach to his throat, gurgling as it splashed out into the flowerbed.

Chest burning, Elliott just about heard Felix muttering, “Nancy’s going to lose her mind”, and he had to resist the urge to snap and tell him to shut up about Nancy’s flowers. Instead, he gathered his breath, turned his face halfway around to look at Felix, and whispered, “It really hurts.”

The devastation on Felix’s face could have been bottled and distributed. He’d tied his hair up higher than he usually did and was wearing about twenty hairclips of Sanrio characters and Pokemon for his kawaii zombie costume. The makeup on his face was smudged from where he’d inevitably rubbed at his eyes during the evening.

“Oh, darling,” he murmured, his voice higher than it’d been before. “I’m so sorry if I made you feel pressured to eat anything. I’m sure no one would have noticed, if that's what you were worried ab–”

He was cut off by the splashing sound of even more vomit cascading past Elliott’s lips. Tears streamed down his face as his internal organs spasmed and groaned. Throwing up was one of the most unpleasant experiences for Elliott, but right then, he couldn’t wait to throw up even more, and relieve himself of the feeling of his body fighting everything he’d put past his lips that evening.

#StW Elliott #halloween drabbles #drabbles #emeto #emeto fic #emeto story #stomach ache fic #stomach ache story #intolerance #vampire emeto #vampire sickfic

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

Note

Hiiiiiii can I request Bakugou x fem!reader?? (*≧∀≦*) Maybe he has a crush on you who has a healing quirk and helps recovery girl when it comes to helping the injured, like when class 1-A finishes up training and recovery girl normally sends her to deal with it all the time? She can heal people but it drains her energy so when she finished with it she takes naps on the recovery beds? Idk but thanks!much love❤️❤️❤️

This is a really cute idea! Thank you for requesting 💖

“Shut up and Heal me”

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: Language (what do you expect, it’s Bakugou lol)

Synopsis: You’re a student at U.A. and Recovery Girl’s apprentice healer. When you push pass your limit to heal Bakugou Katsuki, who knew he cared enough to make sure you heal too.

“Wake up, dumbass.”

Your shoulder is shaken, abruptly waking you from your nap. A muscular silhouette takes shape as you pry your eyes open.

“Bakugou? Is that you?” Your voice laced with sleep.

“Nah, it’s Batman.”

You squint your eyes, still half asleep. Is this a dream? Bakugou rolls his eyes at your inability to detect blatant sarcasm.

“‘Course it’s me, dipshit. Get up.”

You check your phone and groan when you find you only got five minutes worth of valuable shut eye.

“You’re here early.”

“Aizawa-sensei let us out early!” Midoriya pipes up. He’s chipper for someone who looks one step away from passing out. Any trace of sleep vanishes when you assess his injuries, asking him a series of questions to confirm where he needs medical attention and if it’s life-threatening. You usher him to Recovery Girl’s office so he can get treated immediately. Typical Midoriya - always going plus ultra even for training exercises.

Bakugou’s no better as you take in the numerous scrapes and bruises raking his body. Despite his beaten-up state, the only open wound is on the right side of his stomach - a small pool of blood seeping through his muscle shirt. He’s been pushing himself much harder in training these past couple weeks and you know it’s the life of a hero, but you’re concerned for him as a healer and as a friend.

“You gonna stare all day or heal me?”

“Sorry, right, uh.. Take off your shirt and get on the bed.”

The words escape before you realize the implication. Bakugou raises an eyebrow before snorting.

“Tch. Weirdo.”

You flush as he takes off his shirt, laying down on the bed. The wound running down his abdomen is not deep, but it is long. It’ll be difficult to heal, but you’re always up for a challenge. You wash your hands before activating your quirk. A glowing aura surrounds your hands, transparent in color, but before you can focus on changing the color to heal Bakugou - a spaced out Kaminari stands before you with his signature thumbs up. Snot is running down his nose and his eyes have this blank look like no one’s home.

“hewwoo?”

“Oi! Dunceface! To your right!”

“wa-whee-whaa?”

That’s Kaminari gibberish for “Where?” Being Recovery Girl’s intern and constantly healing Class 1-A along with other students in the hero course has made you quite familiar with the unusual side effects of overusing one’s quirk. You created a book with translations for Kaminari’s most used gibberish phrases so you can treat him more efficiently. Today, you tried placing his juice box and cookies on the table to the right to see if he can find it himself. But he’s having problems finding what direction is right.

“Your other right, dumbass.” Bakugou growls as Kaminari bends down to look for his juice box under a chair. You giggle as you help him locate his snack before ushering him to one of the recovery beds to take a nap. He knocks out in no time, snoring softly. Bakugou grunts, his hand pressing against the wound on his side.

“Don’t touch, it could get infected.”

“Tch. I know, but look.” He releases his hold to show you the blood dripping down his abdomen. You curse for not healing him sooner when he was clearly a higher priority than Kaminari. How could you forget the number one rule as a healer? There’s no time to beat yourself up for it so you grab a cleaning cloth to wipe away the blood before activating your quirk once again. You close your eyes, focusing your energy into what you’re about to do which is close up a wound. Red swirls behind your eyelids and you focus the color down your body to your hands. You open your eyes to find them glowing a bright, luminescent red - a stark contrast to the dim lighting in the room. Bakugou hisses at the touch; your hands trailing along his abdomen. You look up to apologize when you notice Bakugou’s flushed cheeks, as red as your glowing hands.

“Are you okay? You’re a bit flushed.” You deactivate your quirk in your left hand to touch his forehead. It’s cause for concern if he has a fever due to an open wound, but you’re taken aback when Bakugou swats your hand away.

“I’m fine! Shut up and heal me.” He looks away, but you catch the persistent redness now making its way down his neck. You return to healing the wound. It’s almost closed, but you can feel your energy draining quicker than usual since you didn’t have enough time to recover earlier.

“Hey, you good?”

“Mhm. Al-most… done…” You bite your lip and clench your eyes shut to concentrate the last of your energy into closing the rest of the wound.

“Don’t push it, dumbass.” Bakugou grunts and despite the harsh tone, there’s a tinge of concern underneath.

“Heh.. could say… the same… for..”

You trail off and your hands glow brighter by the second that you can see red behind your eyelids. You feel the wound seal shut and when you open your eyes you see there’s not a scar in sight. This is the first time you were able to completely heal a wound on your own. You smile at your accomplishment.

“You can take your hands off.”

You flush before ripping your hands away. The quick movement gives you a head rush, the room spinning in circles.

“Whoa.” Bakugou grabs you by the shoulders and reverses your position so you’re laying down now.

“My head hurts…”

“No shit,” Bakugou snorts, “What’d I say about pushing?”

“Go beyond... plus… ultra…”

The last thing you hear is Bakugou laughing, a soft smile curling his lips, before your vision goes black.

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

You wake up to the smell of roasted coffee and cinnabons. Faint voices go back and forth, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. The light streaming in is gone; the room now darker than before. Jeez how long were you out?

“Took you long enough.”

You whip your head to see Bakugou sitting on a chair and nursing a cup of coffee. The bed next to yours is empty. Kaminari must’ve recovered meaning you’ve slept for more than an hour.

“You stayed.”

“Yeah, and? Wanted to make sure you didn’t die ‘cause of me.”

City lights shine bright, and the hustle and bustle outside suggests the city isn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Live music roars from nightclubs and people laughing on the street would entice anyone to join the party. It’s pretty hard to believe Bakugou would stay behind on a Friday night when it’s common knowledge that you need to sleep after overusing your quirk. But here he is, that same strip of red running along his cheeks and nose like he just got a cute little sunburn.

“You like laser tag?” Bakugou asks.

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, shrugging when you answer.

“Never played.”

Bakugou balks, shock written all over his face.

“You never - what kind of person - nevermind. If we hurry, we can make the last round.”

Maybe this time you really were dreaming. You subtly pinch yourself to make sure and nope, this is real life and Bakugou is inviting you to hang out.

“Sounds... fun? But I… um…I’m not really part of your squad…”

You didn’t want to overstep. It seemed like they were a pretty tight-knit group and you’ve never hung out with them outside of school. The fear of ruining their night because you didn’t vibe with them twisted your gut.

“Gimme your phone,” Bakugou says.

Still in a daze, you give him your phone without question. He takes his phone out and not a second later you hear a “ping” from yours, He presses a couple buttons before handing it back to you.

“Congrats, you’re part of the squad.”

You see that you’ve been added to a group chat called “keeping up with the crackheads”. You don’t have time to contemplate exactly what you got thrusted into as Bakugou is grabbing both of your jackets hanging on the coat rack, handing yours and pushing you towards the door.

“I- um.. Thanks… I guess...? Bakugou, what’s going on?”

You’re already halfway down the hallway, everything happening too fast without a clear explanation. Bakugou groans, clearly frustrated that you’re not a mind reader and he has to actually communicate what he’s thinking. He grabs your shoulders, gently shoving your back against the lockers, and planting his hands on either side of you. Being this close to Bakugou makes you feel a familiar flurry of butterflies as you’re caged in and forced to look into those crimson eyes.

“I. Like. You.” He smirks, getting a kick at your flustered state, before leaning away with his hands in his pockets, “And I know you like me too.”

You don’t know what to freak out over first. The fact that Bakugou knows about your crush or that he likes you back. Also, how does he know you like him? You haven’t told anyone about your crush, preferring to keep your cards close to your chest.

“Don’t talk in your sleep if you don’t want me to know how much you wanna run your hands down my ‘chiseled abs’.”

You squeak and cover your face with your hands, too embarrassed at what else you might’ve said in your sleep.

“Chill, dumbass, it’s cute.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, throwing an arm over your shoulder, leading you to a night full of riveting laser tag, making new friends, and first kisses. 💖

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki fluff #bnha fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bnha #mha #fanfic-me-up #shut up and heal me

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luchinosgf · 3 years

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how about bathtime with luca? can be sfw and nsfw, hehe.

I know you’re expecting some nsfw with this but I’m currently writing 1 angst fic and 2 smut fics so like,, this is gonna stay wholesome and fluffy for my own mental wellbeing,,,

This is also to celebrate the fact that I, a prisoner main since the start of the season, FINALLY FUCKING PULLED ELECTROLYSIS. ME. MY UNLUCKY ASS. I DID IT!!!!

—

Bathing with Luca is like, one of the best situations you could be in. He’s so gentle and so sweet,,

Honestly, NSFW stuff won’t be on the forefront of his mind at all. He’d honestly rather just relax with you in a nice warm bath after a hard match that left him sore.

He’d be the one to draw it, careful of any electric currents on his part, and be the first to climb in. He’d make a space for you to curl up in front of him too,,

Honestly he does look hella fine too,, he’s kind of sweaty from the steam, his hair is down and wet, he even has this little dopey smile on his face because he’s just so in love with you and you guys are relaxing together!!!

He’d massage any sores, run his hand over any bruising, all while leaving little smooches along your hairline. Do the same for him and he’ll melt.

As much as he loves a bath, we know it’s not good for actually washing yourself up, so he’d wait till y’all drained it to actually wash his hair and shit. He’s the type to make funky hairstyles with the shampoo and look over at you to see if you’re laughing. You laugh every time.

Luca would also offer to wash up your hair. Please accept because his hands feel great running through your hair. idk why i feel like he has big hands.

Shoulder kisses as he does so. He does recoil a little at the taste of shampoo in his mouth though,,

Afterwards he loves wrapping you up in a little towel burrito. There’s just something about this man and being held in blanket burritos.

he’ll help you get into some nice comfy clothes and toss you onto the bed. He’d follow suit, comin up behind you to snuggle into the cool sheets together.

His lil ponytail is kinda halfway done to get his hair out of his eyes even though his bangs aren’t long enough for that, so there’s just this palm tree on top of his head as he looks at you with this totally enamoured expression. FUCK, HE LOVES YOU AND I LOVE HIM.

#luca balsa #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv imagines

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firemblem-fics · 4 years

Note

Hello, If you are still taking requests, could you write any of the prompts for Yuri please, anything is fine lol. Thank you! I love your blog uwu

betrayal. | yuri

50 Wordless Ways to Say I Love You: Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath

-> Pairing: Yuri x Female!Reader

-> Warnings: Cursing, Violence, MAJOR CINDERED SHADOWS SPOILERS

-> Genre: One-Shot (1.3k), Some Fluff, Mostly Angst

-> A/N: This is like as canon-compliant as I could make it with the addition of the reader idk, I’m sorry it’s not quite “original” as much as it’s me rewriting the scene

“Finally, you’re all awake. Good morning, sleepyheads. Or is it a good evening?”

Yuri’s voice pierced through your skull, making your head throb. You heard the other Wolves talking to him- they sounded angry- but you were too weak to even open your eyes.

“You- you scoundrel!” Constance yelled, “You are unfit to speak with us, liar that you are!”

Yuri waved her off, seemingly uncaring about whatever the hell he was doing. You tried to keep quiet, fighting off a groan of actual pain, as you opened your eyes and peered up. Yuri was standing tall above the four of you, his sword in his hand. You, Constance, Balthus, and Hapi were tied up, lying on the ground in a chamber. What the fuck?

“What exactly are you trying to do here?” Balthus pressed.

“Aelfric intends to reenact the Rite of Rising.” Yuri sighs, then explains. “By offering up the blood of the four Apostles, you can bring someone to life. Saint Seiros attempted the ritual 995 years ago, but not enough blood was given, so the ritual was a bust. And now, through extreme persistence, Aelfric has found and gathered the four of us, with our Crests.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Y/N? She doesn’t even have a crest.” Hapi asked.

You were more awake now, gently sitting up as memories came to you. That’s right- Yuri had betrayed everyone. The Wolves, the professor, you… Your eyes burned with tears. The little bird certainly was only a rat. Yuri looked at you, a bit too long to mean nothing, and walked to the side, twirling his sword.

“She’s simply too strong. To have her go free is to risk too much. Aelfric can’t let this ritual fail. He spent his years raising us in the Ashen Wolf house all to ensure that the Rite of Rising was successful.”

“You mean to say that he intends to drain our blood? To kill us?!” Constance’s voice raised.

“Yeah, no, count me out.” Hapi joined in, “Wait- the number four includes you too, right? You’re gonna die too?”

“Yep. That’s the idea.”

You’d had enough of this talk. Yuri- Yuri wasn’t like this. You refused to believe it. He had been nothing but sweet to you, was it all really just a lie? Struggling to find your voice, you finally cried out.

“I can’t believe you!” Everyone’s head snapped towards you. “You- you filthy liar! You’re risking your life and everyone else’s for what? Some dead bitch? You’ve spent your whole life with these people to stab them in the back?”

“Y/N-” Yuri opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“No, no! Fuck you, Yuri Leclarc. Or are you lying about your name too? I can’t believe I trusted you- or any of us. You took advantage of everyone’s kindness and now you’re throwing everyone’s life away.” You spat at him. If you weren’t avoiding his gaze now, you would’ve seen hurt flash in his eyes.

That hurt hardened quickly as he saw Aelfric watching from the corner. “Shut it. I've lived through Hell and worse. After clawing my way here, you really think I wanna die?”

“Then why throw your life away for the likes of Aelfric?” Asked Balthus.

“Some things are more important than my own life.” Yuri’s eyes shifted back to you for a moment, “Some things are worth protecting.”

“You’re not making any damned sense-”

“It would seem that you want to be punished severely, Yuri.”

Suddenly, Aelfric revealed himself, walking to Yuri with a threatening aura. Yuri only scoffed, defiantly speaking back to him. You couldn’t understand much, now, your vision was spotty with your migraine. You felt like throwing up, but that didn’t seem quite appropriate right now.

“-If I must, I will kill your mother alongside your dear people.” Aelfric finished his little speech as you focused on soothing your nausea. You kept blacking in and out between the conversation, missing bits of it. To focus on staying awake, you tried to grab the dagger that was strapped to your waist in order to cut yourself free.

“The whole ‘evil villain’ outlook doesn’t look good on someone as pious as you, Aelfric.” Yuri laughed. You paused, wondering why he would insult his boss.

“Yuri-bird, I could-”

“Not yet,” He hissed at Hapi. You continued to fidget, getting your ropes to the blade and beginning to saw through them.

You were about halfway through when three figures, coated in masks and dark outfits came forth and took hold of the three downed Wolves. A fourth walked in front of you, raising his hand to knock you out once more. You flinched back, awaiting for the impact, but it never came. Opening your eyes, you saw Yuri holding the man’s wrist.

“You will not touch her.” He threatened, “Or else.”

The figure left and you could only sit back and watch as Aelfric sliced the four Wolves, spewing some goddess-awful monologue to Yuri. Bells chimed and Aelfric began to look panicked, much like you were. You said you hated Yuri, but that was far from the truth.

In the past time that you had gotten to know him, his sly, cunning antics had begun to grow on you. A lot. Before you knew it, you had found yourself becoming quite fond of the house leader, wanting to fight alongside him and spend your time conspiring with him. With as big of a crush that you had on the boy, it was only normal that you would feel so betrayed by him. Hell, you weren’t even going to die (yet, probably), and yet you were still just as upset as the other wolves.

“Oh, and just so you know, I’ve been working for Lady Rhea since before I ever began working for you.”

Your utter surprise at Yuri’s words made you snap the last bit of rope that you had to cut. So, he was on your side the whole time?

“It matters no longer. The ritual is almost done. Just a little bit longer…” Aelfric tried to reason- with Yuri or himself, you couldn’t tell.

Yuri scoffed and you began to stand up, drawing your weapon. “Don’t think for a moment-”

“That I’ll let anything happen to them!” You yelled, suddenly charging towards the man. Your fist collided with Aelfric’s jaw, knocking him to the ground as the other Wolves stood up.

“Seriously, Boss, did you have to tie us up so tight?” Balthus complained, rubbing his wrist.

“Sorry, Balthus,” Yuri laughed, “I figured those little tears would be enough for you to break through the rope.”

“I hate to interrupt the relief party,” You walked up to the group and shoved the blade of your weapon against Yuri’s throat. “But I’m still quite angry, and I’d like to take it out on some people I actually can beat up.”

Yuri gave you a watery smile and gently pushed down the blade, tilting his head at you. “I’m sorry.”

You scrutinized Yuri for a moment before dropping your weapon and rushing towards him, knocking him back a few steps as your arms wrapped around him. You heard him grunt a little and you smile, squeezing him even tighter. Yuri eventually relaxes and wraps his arms around you as well, resting his head on top of yours. “Don’t fucking do that again.”

“Do you still hate me? I think you do, because you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe. Not complaining, though.”

You looked up at him, ignoring the professor and the other knights as they filed into the chamber, ready to fight. “No, I could never. Even if you really had betrayed us…” You looked away from his gaze, but he tilted your chin back up.

“I couldn’t betray you all. That would mean never getting a bone-crushing hug from you again and now that it’s started, I don’t want it to stop.”

You laughed and tip-toed up, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. “Whatever, you sap. Let’s go kick some ass.”

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #requests #yuri #yuri leclerc imagine #yuri leclarc imagines #yuri leclarc x reader #yuri leclarc #yuri leclerc x reader #asks #lay writes #ask prompts #writing prompts

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llycaons · 3 years

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32. this was fucked up, everyone

the song that ended 31 picked right back up as wwx arrives to see yanli - to apologize? to console her? that confirms to me it’s the yunmeng siblings song, the song’s lyrics play later (right after yanli dies!) and reference yunmeng and the name “a-xian”

she just looked so helpless and miserable and drained and fragile and he looked SO apologetic but the fact that they were never able to speak just then....he never managed to say a single word to her, only to her image he hallucinated while the resentful spirits tore into his mind. I think she knew he was sorry. he looked it

thank you and I’m sorry was something wwx wasn’t able to say to yanli either, at the very end. failure to communicate in almost every single of one his most important relationships really is a huge theme in this show

“wow the yllz is so scary how’d he get behind us without anyone knowing” maybe because you all had your backs to the entrance and were only focused on yourselves, assholes

the absolute murderous cold + slight dissociation from reality (I think that’s the right word?) wwx has here is really unmatched by any other scene he’s in. post-BM he’s at least semi-comfortable with his brother and seems a lot more calm. but here he’s barely holding it together and is about ready to murder

GRANNY WEN NOOOOO

there are...15 clan leaders here with their disciples? doesn’t look like 3,000 people, but I guess that’s who’s here since wwx referenced that number exactly

and wen qing’s ashes dispersed with disrespect so she can’t find peace...

jc looks upset and lxc somberly shakes his head but given that the wens turned themselves in and they did owe a blood debt to the jins, there’s really not much either of them could have done short of defecting and physically attacking the jins themselves, and obviously neither of them were about to do that. lwj speaking for them at koi tower didn’t help either. it’s too late, boys! let that be a lesson to you all! fucking politicians

I mean, for lwj it probably was. lxc’s person reckoning comes much later, at the temple

it’s so fitting that nightless is where it all ends, really tying into the cruel irony that characterizes the tragedy in wwx’s first life, and not just for him. the wens hung at the gates of the conquered and sacked city that had once been their family’s stronghold, their murders framed as justice even though armed soldiers were the ones to torture and imprison them, these elders and farmers

WHY the fisheye lens (?) idk. the one where their foreheads look massive. it’s not a good choice it looks silly and they use it a lot during serious scenes

oh man oh man the fact that he’s on a ROOFTOP idk he’s just associated with those a lot I like the detail

the concept of “I never agreed to matters ending once the wens were dead” is like...screams. his sheer power here

okay I never really was into it before but the yllz look with white highlight on his face is truly very sexy this man is 100% losing it but he looks really good. sleep-deprived, physically deteriorating, halfway starving, deeply traumatized, grieving, and feeling the guilt for everything bad that has ever happened to the people he loves AND the abandonment and hatred of the entire world...he’s only 21 or so

again the irony of the entire sequences drives me insane, like sect leader yao claiming that wwx has no empathy when his overflowing compassion it’s WHY he’s doing everything here

and everything else unfair stacked against him and running with mob mentality! the idea of him proving he wasn’t the culprit of the curse, the fact that he can’t defend himself without being deemed a vicious heretic who freely murders, his arrogance used to dismiss all of his very legitimate points. because it doesn’t matter! how well-spoken or rational he is because nobody here is on his side! sure jc looks sad a bunch but in his mind there’s nothing he can do so he’s not going to even bother! jeez, jc

“How cheap your admiration and hatred both are!” this line FUCKS this entire scene does and the ARROW that he pulls out of his chest, uses resentful energy to clean, and then hurls back, killing his attacker? jesus christ. jesus christ. moments that will never leave my mind

I think most of this scene was straight from the novel but that arrow thing was cql original. as much as I hate to say it, a lot of these preres scenes (myu and wlj fight, the massacre/jzx’s death, return from BM, mianmian’s defection, plus obviously the concept/plot structure) from the novel really are so fucking good I’m just glad I can watch this and not have to deal with the other stuff in that book

apparently this music playing here is Stravinsky. I saw a post about nightless battle music (and that it also includes an electric guitar in 33??) and I didn’t notice it before but yeah. this is definitely one of those russian ballet pieces. firebird? I googled a little but no luck. well anyway despite the fact that it’s hardly traditional Chinese music, is definitely not a solo flute piece, and is not what wwx is actually playing (which is eerie as hell) the music fits the dramatic, sweeping terror and tragedy of the scene perfectly. props to whoever decided that

the spirits are not harming the jiangs *pleading face emoji* senior brother remembers them!!

and HEY the russian music is interrupted by a guqin because it’s lwj!!

I wonder what would have happened if he’d approached wwx without trying to fight him. if he’d put down his sword and just tried to talk. maybe it wouldn’t have helped at all. after all, even if wwx has lwj’s support, he doesn’t feel like he has any other option than to do this. and it’s not like there’s any easy solution for any of this. his death is staring him in the face whatever happens tonight, from the resentful spirits in his body to the entire cultivation world screaming for his blood. but maybe if yanli hadn’t died and he hadn’t felt the blame, he wouldn’t have died the way he did?

their fight scene is so short but I don’t think either of them expected to be able to hurt each other, they both look distressed enough, I think if one of them had gotten hurt the other would immediately stop and be like “oh right I love him”

and hey, lwj WAS trying to explain about a-yuan (who he’d already picked up and brought to gusu) but he’s not too great at communicating in words under pressure and then yanli showed up

there’s a lot of confusion here but can’t jc and lwj hear the other flute? can’t they tell something else it going on here? did they both just accept that wwx lost control?

lwj almost shouting at wwx to stop is one of the very rare times he actually raises his voice or seems angry at wwx but since wwx’s sister just got stabbed he’s not really paying attention to lwj atm

okay the final scene of this was truly very stupid for many reasons like what jin guard drove the grieving widow to nightless? lwj was protecting wwx, why didn’t he stop the sword (maybe he was fending off another attack?) and earlier lwj was too far away, why doesn’t jc DO something? also, could jc not have gone to the roof to talk to him? and such but I will not hear any criticism of this scene that questions why yanli would want to be there at all. older sister instinct kicked in. I’m not saying it wasn’t a misogynistic and contrived way for her to die, I’m saying I get it on an emotional level. that’s her baby brother, she hasn’t seen him in so long and now he’s in danger and she just wants to talk...

tbh jc’s only role here is to look sad and inept and yell at wwx and push him away and otherwise the sibling dynamics here are almost purely yanli and wwx which is why this episode is so good. at this point whatever tolerance he has for wwx’s behavior has snapped and as soon as he perceives his family to be hurt, suddenly wwx is ejected from it. and honestly? this situation is reflecting really poorly on wwx if you’re already predisposed to suspect him of arrogance and immature posturing. and jc loved yanli so much. he loved her so much. and his default when in pain is to turn to anger

the fierce corpse who cut her down was a jiang disciple DAMN

I was fully sobbing by the time yanli was speaking her last words (about how she never was able to sit down and talk with wwx!!! he was running too fast for her to catch up!!! communication!!!! god!!!) so I missed the exact moment she was stabbed but their song started again and holy shit. holy shit. wwx murders yanli’s killer with his bare hands over that gentle song about being together and childhood memories and that’s how the episode ends

*gives a thumbs up with tears streaming down my face* we did it everyone!

#this kind of character death is actually really satisfying #yes it was unecessary and drawn-out and tragic #but the scene had so many great elements especially her last words which were so impactful and thematic #it was a really good episode #a great one. maybe one of the best #I'm glad I can appreciate it now #cql rewatch #long post

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cyn-00 · 4 years

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Moreid one shot, 18 - "from this moment on"

Season 3, episode 16 "Elephant's memory" (this is the one where the team have to catch a kid - Owen Savage - that's been killing his former bullies: Reid empathizes with him to the point of putting his life on the line when the kid approaches the police dept armed, to say goodbye to his girlfriend one last time. This is also the one where Reid tells Morgan about the bullying episode with the goal post)

This is basically how I imagine their love confession happened :)

Also, uhm, I have to address one last thing? I think I went a lil out of character with Derek in this one, because the fighting and the occasional sarcastic tone...Idk I feel like Derek Morgan wouldn't do that. I hope it doesn't bother you 👉👈 I needed them to be real mad to render the "getting together" how I wanted to. It was so fucking hard to write, putting together anger and love and trying to "transition" from the former to the latter not too abruptly, jesus why do I make my life so complicated- hope it was worth it

Read it on AO3

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Morgan was sitting at his desk in the bullpen. He already had his hoodie and leather jacket on: he had planned on finishing with the paperwork as fast as his reading and handwriting speed allowed him to, and then literally running home to take a shower, to wash off everything that case in Texas had stained him with.

To wash off the burden of knowing about probably one of Reid's deepest secrets. The guilt of not having managed to get through to him soon enough to predict that he was gonna go back to the local pd and wait for the unsub without the others knowing. The helplessness of seeing him put his life at stake to save the unsub from being shot - the unsub: a kid just like him, bullied and punished for not knowing how to be anything other than himself. The knot in his guts when he saw him inching closer and closer to the armed kid and couldn't run in front of him to stand as a shield. The aching in his heart at the thought that, even having witnessed all of it, he couldn't blame Reid for seeing himself in that kid and wanting to save him, like an instinct that he could not suppress even being fully aware that that would've meant playing kamikaze in front of the team - in front of him.

He wanted all of that to go away, to stream down the drain of his shower floor and disappear.

And the awareness that that couldn't happen, that it didn't work like that, was what was keeping him from being able to fill up all the paperwork quickly, instead staring at the same sheet for what seemed like hours and removing his gaze from it every 30 seconds to check on Hotch's office, where Reid was being lectured and scolded since the minute they got off the jet.

At the millionth glimpse up to that door, it opened.

Reid walked fast down the stairs and flew toward his desk with a hollow look on his face, lifting a wave of air as he brushed past Morgan's desk.

Morgan's eyes followed him and then moved back to the door where they were before, and where now was standing Hotch, watching Reid too from slightly above.

Hotch's and Morgan's eyes met and, much to the latter's relief, he nodded: Morgan didn't catch immediately what he was nodding at him for, then understood it was meant to be a "everything's fine, I didn't fire him" kinda thing. Which, luckily enough, hadn't even crossed his mind - there was a whole lot on that plate already.

He decided he had to talk to him, in the attempt to relieve some of Reid's concerns but also some of his own, hoping not to escalate into a fight - though, he was willing to take the risk.

"Reid."

The voice was familiar to Reid's ears, though the same couldn't be said for the tone of it.

He was almost done with packing his satchel, standing on his feet beside his desk in the hope that that would be enough of a hint for the others that he was heading out and had no time to talk or anything else of the sort.

But that voice - that voice, Reid could not ignore, and he found himself thinking that he should've rehearsed better to do so.

"What?" he simply said, not bothering to shift his look on Morgan, nor stopping the jittery motion of his hands, relying solely on muscle memory to put stuff inside the bag.

A warm and strong hand wrapped around his wrist like a cuff, forcefully stopping said motion. He finally moved his eyes toward the man, now standing in front of him.

Even having soothed down the uncontrollable trembling of his fingers, he glanced up at Morgan as to order to remove the grip; and so he did, gulping nervously.

"Can we talk for a sec?"

Reid tried to ignore the look on his face and shook his head dismissively, resuming the task he had interrupted a second before.

He felt his co-worker inching closer - too close for him to say no if he'd asked him again.

"Please, Spencer." Morgan whispered in his ear.

A shaky sigh escaped his nose when he heard his first name and the discomfort in Morgan's usually confident tone.

"Alright. What is it?" he crossed his arms on his chest.

"Not here." Derek looked around, searching for a private place as if he didn't know that there was no such thing at the bureau unless one had a proper office - and even then, everyone would peek and overhear conversations. Hotch knew something about that.

He nodded his chin up toward the conference room. Spencer didn't have the energy to protest and followed him.

"So?" he asked, attempting at an annoyed tone, once they were up inside the dark room - Morgan refused to turn the light on, letting the lamps from the bullpen outside shed some through the blinds.

"Close the door?"

"Seriously? Ok Morgan look, if- if I'm here for another lectur-"

"I can't do it with the door open Reid I'm- I'm sorry."

Reid softened a little at that. He wondered what he meant by "I can't do it". Do what? Anyway, he closed the door and tossed his bag on one of the chairs, figuring it was going to be long and tedious. Little did he know...

"And I don't wanna lecture you. Not as Hotch did, anyway. I'm here as a friend."

Spencer didn't bother retorting that.

Derek leaned against the round table and crossed his arms on his chest, looking down at his feet as if the floor was gonna throw at him the right words to say.

"You scared the fuck out of us." his voice came out anything but steady or threatening. "You scared the fuck out of ME." he specified.

Reid tried to hide as best as he could how his knees started to wobble. He shrugged, slipping his hands casually in the pockets of his pants. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Morgan wasn't sure if the "genius" was playing dumb all of a sudden or what. It seemed very much clear to him what that was supposed to mean. Phrased perfectly. You scared me. "Sorry about that" and a pat on his shoulder would've done the trick.

But since Reid clearly wasn't in the mood to make it easy on himself - or really, on either of them - Derek threw the whole "not escalating into a fight" concept out of the window.

"What do you think it means?" he stood straight and spread his arms in frustration. "What the HELL where you thinking out there? I just-"

"This sounds very much like a lecture already."

Derek lowered his voice. "I'm trying not to make it sound like one. But I'm also trying to make a point, Reid."

"Your point being?? That I shouldn't have jeopardized my life and the lives of others? That we are a team and if I understand something about the case before you guys I have to let you know?"

Morgan tried to take advantage of a pause Reid took to catch his breath, gaping in the attempt to say something. But was immediately cut off.

"Or is it maybe that I shouldn't walk up to an armed unsub without my vest and my gun??" Reid seemed to have finished, but just because his voice was getting thicker with rage.

Derek couldn't see his eyes clearly in the bad lighting of the room, but from how his brows were drawn together and his lips slightly parted, he took a guess tears were threatening to wet his cheeks from one second to another.

He didn't want to make him cry. He'd probably already done that a few times without anybody's help. But if that was Spencer's way of opening up to him, of letting go, of showing him that he trusted him not to tell the others about how he poured his fears out to him inside those four walls... then maybe Derek did want him to cry. If that was the only way to make the kid understand how much it affected him seeing him risk his life, how wrong it was for him to think he was alone in this.

"...all of the above, and you know that."

"Exactly! I do! Because Hotch just told me all of it and even if he hadn't, I knew it all already-"

"Then why?? Why did you do it anyway? Why did you do it if you're so smart that you had already figured how wrong it was?"

Reid scowled at that, and opened his mouth to say something, though he didn't really have the time.

"Do you take PLEASURE in all this??" Morgan snorted dryly, gesturing his hands around as if he was showing him what "all this" meant. "Are you enjoying it? Getting yelled at? Looking at me freak out??"

Spencer embraced his chest in his arms, like he wanted to make himself small. "It's not like I asked you to-"

"You did, though! You kinda DID ask for it, Reid! What, you thought we'd just sit around and watch you get almost killed and never talk about it?? You thought you could do something literally suicidal and get away with Hotch or me busting your ass or- or anybody really??"

"Morgan just- s- stop screaming at me, please." he murmured keeping his eyes down, voice cracking halfway.

The way those words came out of him and resonated in his eardrums, and the look on his face - Derek's stomach twisted at the thought of having scared him, yelled at him like he was just some kid who screwed up, like he was someone else and not Spencer. His kid. His pretty, pretty boy.

He realized how close he had got to him, unawarely prey to his own rage. He stepped back and ran a hand on his face. Reid looked so tiny, and helpless, and innocent, now that Morgan got a look of him as a whole, from a farther perspective.

" 'm sorry." he mumbled.

As Spencer's eyes finally moved away from the portion of floor in between his shoes, he saw that Derek had turned his back on him, hands resting on his hips.

He looked...hurt? But mostly ashamed, judging by how his eyes dropped down, hiding his face, like he didn't want Spencer to see him in that moment.

Spencer's heart collapsed down his stomach when he realized what Derek was ashamed of.

"Morgan you- you didn't... scare me or anything I'm- I'm fine I'm just saying, Hotch already barely contained his yelling, and I had my fair share of yelling, too, I just don't-" he had to take a breath, or else his brain would've burst. "I just don't want you to get angry at me, too. That's all. That's literally it."

A little too late for that, he thought to himself. But what he said, it was true: he wasn't scared of him - or, better: of course he was uncomfortable when people screamed at him, but it wasn't Derek specifically. He didn't wince, or flinch back when he scolded him. He didn't have a quarter of a doubt that Morgan wouldn't lay a single finger nail on him - on ANYONE, ever.

That's just not the type of man he was, despite his build, and how his eyes burned up when he was angry. He would occasionally punch a wall or two, but he would never dare to get mad like that at people. And, it seemed to Reid, that some people forgot it at times, or simply got the idea that he was a violent man, based purely on his muscles and the color of his skin. Reid wasn't one of those people. He knew Morgan felt emotions in a big way - big, blinding smiles, as well as big, laser-like glares - an authentic and raw way, when he allowed himself to: the good ones when he felt comfortable enough, the bad ones when he felt threatened. He knew how overwhelming it must be for external people, to see this strong man spurting out his equally strong feelings.

Spencer wasn't one of those people. He felt blessed to belong to that OTHER group of people, the one Derek allowed himself to show good and bad. And he wasn't scared, he admired him for feeling things in such a way.

Reid snapped out of his thoughts, hearing an unsettling silence that should've been long replaced by an answer from Morgan. He made a few steps toward him.

"Morgan are- are you ok?" he asked, his voice and his expression softer than before, carefully placing a hand on the other man's leather-coated shoulder.

Ok. Of course. At times Derek wondered if Spencer was actually that oblivious, or he just liked to make the gears in his brain work x10 times harder to find a way of making things more evident to him for fun.

He let out a cold chuckle. "Yeah." he shook his head and turned around to face him again. "of course, right? TOTALLY fine. Just saw one of the people I care most in this world throw himself in the arms of an unsub. But I'm fine, right?? How could I not."

The painful frown that appeared on Spencer's sweet face should've been enough for Derek not to be able to stay angry at him.

Reid looked down and took a step back, taking his hand off of him. Maybe it wasn't enough for Morgan's rage to quiet down, but it was sure as hell enough for a wave of tears to start burning his eyeballs.

"And how can you demand me to not be angry at you?" his voice was starting to fail him. "How- how am I supposed to do that??"

Reid shook his head vigorously. "I seriously do NOT understand. I swear to God I don't understand this whole thing you're pulling off on me right now." he tucked his hair behind his ears, not that it needed to be adjusted - it was rather out of being nervous and trying to compose himself.

An annoyed grimace wrinkled Morgan's features. "What is there to understa-"

"No- I'm talking now: you pull off this crap ALL the time, running into buildings on literal fire, chasing unsubs down alleys without waiting for us first, jumping from one roof top to another- how is that different? Is it cause you're a big guy and I'm weak? Is that ALWAYS the reason??"

"It's not nearly the same thing, Reid. And it doesn't have a single fucking thing to do with you being 'weak'." he stated, without hesitating to air-quote 'weak', damn sure that if he didn't, Spencer would snap again.

"Then, please, explain it to me. Explain to me why when you do that you're a hero, while when I do that I'm an irresponsibile teenager. Because, apparently so, all the IQ in my brain is of no use in figuring it out." he snarked, crossing his arms on his chest.

Morgan took a few deep breaths: Reid would be outraged enough by what he was about to say, the least he could do was control how he'd say it.

"Alright. When I do that, it's because there's no choice. I can't let the guy get away. What you did, though? You HAD a choice." he simply explained, seeing that Spencer's mind was already starting to acknowledge the difference. "and when I do it, it has nearly nothing to do with how much or how little a case gets to me."

Spencer snorted. "...I'm sorry for getting involved? And putting my ass on the line to save a kid? Is this what you wanna hear??"

"You're painting it like you did it more for him than for yourself." Morgan bit back. He knew that deep down Reid knew what he meant.

Derek was starting to contemplate only after dipping his toes in the topic, that maybe it wasn't his place to bring it up - but from how heavy the silence following his statement was, and how intensely the other's brows shot up together, he figured Hotch hadn't brought it up either. And someone had to do it, regardless of how painful the backfire would be: Derek could take it. He could take it, if it meant managing to untie at least a few knots in Spencer's brain.

"In what way exactly would I take advantage in something like that? You JUST said it, I literally threw myself in a life threatening situation because I didn't want another kid to die, not on my watch! How- how does that help me-"

"There you go." Derek asserted coldly, nodding his chin in Spencer's direction.

Spencer swallowed, but didn't continue.

"You didn't want to see another kid get killed in front of you. Especially when he reminds you so much of yourself. Ain't that right?"

Reid jerked his eyes away.

"And I get that. I do. But it's when you start snapping at everyone, and try to fix things on yourself, and approach an armed guy without protection, THAT'S when this type of 'getting involved' becomes dangerous." Morgan concluded. When no immediate response came from Reid, and he seemed to have calmed down, he made a step closer, and slowly attempted at placing a hand on his shoulder.

Maybe he didn't have to say it yet. Maybe he could get away with keeping it buried inside for a while longer. Maybe the risk of getting rejected could be dodged this time. But Spencer's face reflected the frantic movements happening inside his brain, and he looked like he was giving thoughtful consideration to something - Derek was afraid of what that "something" could be.

As soon as his hand reached Reid's bony shoulder, it was snatched away by an equally bony hand. And his eyes leveled with Morgan's again.

"Why does it matter?" Spencer ultimately asked.

"Wha-"

"Why does it matter what 'type' of involvement, as long as I save a life?"

"I JUST told you why it matters, Reid! It's not healthy that you'd wanna risk your life when you have a million other options!"

"So what?"

" 'So what' what?? We are a fucking team, Reid, our job is to avoid getting each other killed! We love you- I do, I love you, I don't want you to throw yourself in these situations if there's no need for it!"

Spencer's look softened, despite the screaming, when Derek mentioned the team, the fact that they were meant to protect each other - to love each other. Like he forgot it for a second there.

"And I get that! But- but what's the point- even if you explain it to me a thousand times, it doesn't make me feel any better knowing that the way I get in dangerous situations is 'unhealthy' whereas yours is unbiased. If you run into a fire to save a child because you have no choice, I still shit my pants, alright? Because- because of what you said, that we are a team, and we love each other, and I love you too-"

"Not like that, Reid!!" Morgan yelled louder than him, putting a stop to his flood of words.

Spencer didn't try to resume his ramble, instead, he stilled with lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, waiting for his brain to understand - it never took him so long. Except when it came to social cues, and feelings.

Morgan sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. "I- I don't mean it like that. Like a co-worker- not even as a friend." his voice was now barely audible.

Spencer's heart started pounding rapidly - and it was the only thing he could feel in that moment. His brain wasn't working, his thoughts were put on a time-out for a second. His body was in charge - and he wasn't used to it.

"I- I'm not following-"

Morgan ran a hand over his face. "I love you, Goddammit."

Derek took a step closer, and now Spencer could see a glossy layer coating his eyes, threatening to spill.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer." he murmured.

Their eyes were only a few inches apart, and still: Spencer couldn't manage to read through Derek's. He couldn't find in them the answers to all those questions - Why would he say something like that? Was it true? How long? How could Derek Morgan be in love with someone like him? Did he misunderstand what he said? How did he miss something like that?

He shook his head. "No. No that's not true, don't- don't say that." Spencer's eyelids burning with tears.

Morgan swallowed the lump in his throat, a hurt frown appeared on his face. Did Reid really believe he was lying, or was it some subtle, manipulative way of telling him he didn't love him back?

He nodded and repeated. "It is. It's true, I love yo-"

"Stop saying that." A tear trailed down Spencer's cheek, as he tilted his head and let his shoulders drop, like someone who's... tired. Someone who's had enough without even having received any. Someone who's completely unaware of how much they're giving by just existing in other people's orbits. Someone who's yet blind to how forceful a love like that feels like when it sweeps you over - incapable of feeling worthy of such love.

"You're only saying it because- because you saw me in a dangerous situation and- and you're confusing the fear of losing a co-worker with romantic love. We- we see it all the time, Morgan- it's not true, it's gonna go away, this is only your brain playing tricks on you." Spencer stuttered.

Morgan looked down at his trembling hands, as gravity forced the first of many tears to escape his eye. How could he not see it? Why couldn't he accept being loved?

"I- I don't know how to show it to you." he raised his gaze again. "tell me, kid. Tell me how I can make you understand."

A shuddering breath stopped halfway in his throat when Spencer leaned even closer, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. Gentle, uplifting, soft hand soothing his thick skin; and a thumb stroking his chin, scattered with a couple-days-rough stubble dampened by the tears. He slightly tilted his head to sink into that touch.

Spencer stared deep into him for a while, and closed the distance between their faces. Derek simply shut his eyes, as the tip of the other's nose brushed up and down his, like he wanted to test the soil; Spencer's hot breath tickling his Cupid's bow.

His plump, bottom lip slightly parted from the upper one, and started stroking over Derek's closed mouth - he didn't wanna push, he didn't want to ruin it, he wanted to kiss him but at the same time he didn't, didn't want him to feel forced to do anything, didn't want Spencer to have to let his tongue into his mouth just because he'd feel unpolite if he didn't, didn't wanna give in to the best sensation he could think of knowing it'd be a one-way street-

"Kiss me." the words came out of Spencer's mouth in a humid, warm breath washing over Derek's.

And Derek didn't need to be told twice.

One, strong arm wrapped around Spencer's slim waist, and long fingers snaked up the back of his neck and through his hair, and everything about where and how Derek's limbs were positioned felt anything but foreign to him. Like his body was the place they were supposed to be all along.

And he couldn't help but curse himself, and let endless tears roll off of his cheeks at the thought that he didn't realize it sooner, that he could've been tied with Morgan in that way long before if only he'd listened, that maybe he wouldn't have had to squeeze his brain so hard to think of ways to make himself feel at least decent for all those years, maybe he wouldn't even have needed Dilaudid in the first place, maybe all his tears and his sweat and his blood could've been wiped away by those hands instead of his own, maybe if he were a normal person capable of seeing the clues thrown at him, the clues that confirmed that the feeling was mutual, the clues that would've eventually pushed him to say it long before - "I love you, Derek" was it so hard after all? - and maybe, maybe, maybe-

And then, lips. Lips pushed against his, putting a halt to the mental cursing, the self loathing, the regret.

A million times he'd imagined Morgan's lips on his, and his forehead, and his neck, and...and other places, and he would've never guessed how gentle they actually were, in reality, in three-dimension. He'd imagined them as forceful as his kicks were when he broke down doors. As crushing as his fists against the walls when he was frustrated. As piercing as the words he spat out to Buford's face. And they were, forceful, but in a different way. In this way that had nothing to do with violence, and physicality. Like, like he was trying to infuse him with all the love his big heart contained. Like he could tell him how much he loved him just by laying those lips on his - and Spencer would've struggled to believe it regardless.

And, tongue. As soon as the tip of Derek's tongue split its way in between his teeth, Spencer dropped his jaw, and pushed him as deep inside as he could, with his hands on the back of his warm neck. It was like the other's tongue was chasing for his, and so he met it halfway, pushing his forward, and the warm, wet contact made Derek whine shakily.

And it was getting messy, and slippery as their mouths mixed together, and his taste was burning hot, like coffee, but not the sweet, tooth-rotting one Spencer was used to drink: like bitter coffee, sharp, intense but cozy at the same time. And in the moment that taste started possessing every spot of his mouth, spread by the movements of both their tongues, swirling and exploring every bit of space available - in that moment he swore to God, if real coffee tasted like that, he'd give up all the sugar and cream in this world.

At a certain point, Morgan had to pull back, or else he'd have suffocated - not that he minded, drowning in Reid's velvet lips.

He pressed his forhead on Spencer's and brushed his fingers through his hair, swallowing that last bit of flavor he left in his mouth - sweet for all the damn sugar he shoved in his coffee, salty for the tears that managed to reach his tongue.

Reid's arms slowly dropped down his sides again, as he regained all the breath he'd lost, and tilted his head down like he was avoiding the other's eyes. Morgan frowned at the loss of contact.

"Hey" Derek whispered against his temple, though it didn't seem to work to catch his attention. Did he do something wrong? Was Spencer already regretting it? Did he push too far? He perfectly knew Reid had a "thing" with physical contact, but he trusted him to say it if he was doing anything that made him uncomfortable, right? Plus, he seemed to never have had a problem with Morgan touching him, hugging him...had he got it wrong all along? As those questions sneaked their way into Derek's brain, coming from a dark, hidden place Spencer's mouth had in some way momentarily rooted out of him, a sudden pain stabbed at the back of his throat.

"Pretty boy," That seemed to work. Spencer's gorgeous face leveled back up with his, giving him his signature puppy eyes. Derek's knees failed a little under his weight when he gently grabbed Spencer's jaw in one hand, and he seemed to be trying to contain a shy smile by biting the inside of his cheek. The questions were rooted out of his head once again.

"I need you to listen to me for a second here" he added softly, brushing his thumb on his chin. Spencer nodded.

He took a deep breath. "I know why you did what you did, and I'm- I'm sorry if it doesn't seem like I do because I snapped like that but..." Derek paused, cupping Spencer's face in both his hands to wipe away the half-dried tears with the sleeves of his hoodie, expecting fresh new ones to come at any moment. "...but I need you to understand that it freaked me out to see you like that cause it looked like you didn't know that we're here for you. That I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah I know." Reid murmured, his bottom lip failing to keep steady. He slightly tilted his head to nuzzle into Morgan's warm palm, as his thumb caressed his cheek.

Derek's heart swelled like he never thought it could. The way Spencer was giving it all up and trusting him to be careful with his exposed nerves, was an overwhelming duty weighing upon his shoulders just as much as it was the hugest privilege he'd ever received. Even more so knowing how hard it was for the kid to share that part of him.

"Especially now, I need you to understand that when you put your life at risk like that- like it doesn't matter; it doesn't affect only you. It affects me, too. It always has, since day one, but especially from this moment on I need you to think of me- I need you to think that I'm out there watching you and that if you risk your life, you're risking mine too."

Spencer's pupils widened at that. He stared deep into Derek's eyes as if he could read his mind through them. "Especially now". "Especially from this moment on". He was trying so hard to find another meaning to those words, one that would imply less commitment, one that wouldn't literally equal Derek Morgan stating that he was his boyfriend now.

"I- I understand." Spencer stammered, wrapping his arms again around his waist. "I understand." he repeated after clearing his voice, as a sweet smile formed on his lips.

"Good." Derek placed a couple quick kisses on his chin and the corner of his lips, making his smile widen even more and his nose scrunch a little. "Cause I mean it."

They stared into each other for a while, and Derek's palm didn't stop stroking Spencer's cheek for a second, like he would die to carry his whole face in one hand if only he could.

Reid swallowed, trying to keep his gaze steady on him as his brain prompted at his lips to speak the words - tell him, tell him, he won't reject you, he loves you, he said it first, tell him-

"I love you too." he felt himself smiling while saying it. Wasn't so hard, now was it?

Derek chuckled a little. "Yeah, I figured that one, pretty boy."

Spencer dropped his gaze, trying to hide a little in the man's palm. There was another thing...

"and- and also, uh, Morgan ? I," a shuddering sigh followed. "I- I'm 10 months sober. From- from Dilaudid. 10 months."

Morgan's bright smile didn't falter but assumed a shade to it that Reid couldn't quite name. He squeezed his eyes shut to let out another set of tears, with such relief that left Spencer wondering if he'd been waiting to receive that news all along, or simply he wasn't expecting it. That reaction alone could've easily been enough to make him swoon at his very feet.

Derek collapsed into his hug, burying his face in Spencer's slim neck and probably soaking the collar of his shirt as he sobbed in a way that made his shoulders hitch at every breath - in a way Spencer had never seen him doing before.

Spencer ran a hand up and down the back of the other's neck to calm his cry down, until his breathing had evened out a little, unable to take that stupid smile off his face.

"Can you, uh, do me a favor though?" Derek's hoarse and muffled voice tickled his neck a little.

"Yeah?"

"...can you stop calling me Morgan now? Freaks me out a little..."

Reid let out a giggle, and squeezed him even tighter, tilting his head to lean his cheek on the other man's bald head, well aware that he would never feel nearly as supported by his skinny limbs as he felt in Morgan's strong arms. He tried anyway.

"Yeah. Yes, I can definitely stop doing that, Derek."

The feeling of the man's smile - his boyfriend 's smile against his skin, was enough to make Spencer swear to try and forget he even had a last name.

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seromreven · 4 years

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title: a place in this word | chapter one: best foot forward.

summary: “after a series of disobedience and bad luck; paul is turned in at a border school for troubled boys, a last attempt by his father to straighten up his son. paul quickly learns the path to improvement isn’t always paved with good intentions, nor is it easy. through struggles; paul manages to make a couple of friends.

author’s note: summary? whomst art thou? (i’ve planned second chapter for this but idk if it’ll go for longer than that.)

---

November 11th, 1943.

The old mansion crept over the trees and looked quite like something out of a motion picture; something ominous, like Dracula or Frankenstein. Paul shuddered at the thought. His father had forbidden him from going to the theatre. Warned him about the movies but, yet Paul had ignored him and gone with a group of his friends. One of the many transactions that had landed him in front of the massive building.

It was a place for young and troubled boys; that was what he had been told, though he himself felt he far from fitted that description. Though young, his fifteenth birthday had just come and gone, he was hardly troubled- rather strong-willed, surely. Alas, his father disagreed and here he stood; at the stoop of the school with a single bag at his feet with some clothes (that wouldn’t be needed much as uniforms were the common wear here) and the sound of the roaring engine of his father’s vehicle disappearing in the forests behind him.

He stood alone, reluctant to knock; wishing he could turn around and run off into the wild, wishing to follow the bellowing winds and disappear. But his feet wouldn’t move, neither forward and backwards. He counted the minutes, and the nocks in the door's wood, meditating on his situation and the sound of crows in the trees. A sudden rustle made him look up, and he saw a window open and three dark-haired heads poke out, pushing each other for room in the narrow space. They were young boys; around his age. One with high cheekbones, one with a remarkable nose, and one with narrowed eyes- out of judgement or poor vision, Paul didn’t know, but it left a heavy weight in his chest.

“What’re ye doing there? Just standing there like a right idiot? The weather is bloody nasty!”

And sure enough, a loud crack of thunder gave out from the skies, clearing the way from rain that followed soon after. Had it rained on Paul’s way here? The ground had been wet when he left the car, but he couldn’t recall it ever raining. He had been lost in his thoughts; leaving home, leaving his brother, the war and all that followed such a thing.

“Shh, don’t talk like that! She’ll hear you…”

“Eh, blast her, Rings! See if I care.”

Only the two bickering boys stood left. Paul didn't know how to feel; about the strangers, about the house, about anything. But the way the boy had talked about the unknown women left a cold dread down his spine, making him wish full control of his limbs again, to run back to the city as fast as he ever could. He blinked, drops of water falling off his lashes. The boys had disappeared again; leaving him alone again.

Paul contemplated finally knocking, getting it over with, but before he could even lift his fist- the decision was made for him with the aggressive opening of the door. A woman stood in the entrance to a brightly lit room- behind her was a grand staircase that turned halfway up the room, and on it Paul could see the three boys from before, peeking over the banister.

“You must be Mr McCartney,” the woman muttered through gritted teeth. Paul wondered about her anger- she couldn’t possibly be mad at him? He had just arrived! He quickly made sure to nod; his voice suddenly stuck in his throat.

“Come in,” she said more calmly, though it seemed distant and cold all the same, and turned sharply around, “and wipe your feet.”

He tutted demurely after her- feeling scolded, though he had done nothing to deserve it.

Inside wasn’t particularly warmer than the roaring storm outside. While there were flicking candles abound, all around the room- the heat seemed drained out of them, abandoned somewhere out of reach. He heard the muffled sound of feet above his head as he watched the boys ascend the stairs- mindful in sneaking away from the old lady leading Paul near the oak steps.

“You’re sharing room with Mr Harrison. Third on the right. Breakfast is at six precisely. Your uniform for tomorrow is on your bed. You will get your orientation after breakfast. Goodnight.”

And with that, she left- leaving Paul in front of the stairs that seemed to grow larger and longer the more he stared and lingered at its feet. Was this to be his life now? Hollow and cold rooms? Fear of the wars and storms outside as he sits silently in a mansion in the forest away from family and loved ones? He felt the fear crawl and cling to his heart as he felt his pulse beat along to the hard rain on the windows. He took a shaking step up, one hand tightly gripped on the railing, the other on his bag, and swallowed deeply. And another. And another. And soon he found himself on the top- his eyes suddenly meeting a pair of bespectacled curious ones; so sudden he lost foothold on the polished wood, and surely he would have fallen if it weren’t for the quick action of the stranger who, with a strong, hold grabbed his wrist, pulling him safely back.

His heart was in his throat as he left the steps behind, left for safer ground. The strange boy’s hands were still around his, and Paul’s head was reeling. He felt his pulse quicken under the warm touch of the boy. He felt himself shaking, his face flushing, and looked up wide-eyed at the stranger, stammering out his thanks for the rescue. The boy only shook his head with a relaxed smile (though his cheeks were tinted pink and his chest heaved).

“W-Who are you? I-I’m Paul...”

Paul cursed inwardly at himself. A new life, and this was his first introduction to someone of his own age?

The boy shook Paul’s hand; his hand still tightly around Paul’s, his fingers feeling Paul’s sharp pulse. He shook his head once more and let go- finally to introduce himself.

“Why, I’m John- your new best friend.”

#a place in the world fic #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #the beatles #beatles fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #it's ... interesting... trying to get back into a proper habit of writing #it will be difficult as the new animal crossing is here to distract me #when it isn't!! i'll probably write and post a request before the next chapter

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calliecat93 · 3 years

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Top 5 Things I Disliked About RWBY Volume 7

Well everyone, Volume 8 will soon be upon us. IDK about anyone else, but I’ve never been so anxious about a volume in the near seven years I’ve been watching this show. Not even V3 had me this nervous, and I knew by nature of it being a Tournament Arc that it was gonna be painful. But as we near the new volume, I want to reflect on the previous one. So I am bringing back my Likes/Dislikes posts… except this time I DON’T have to do twelve posts for six volumes in a week. Only gotta do one Volume for today and tomorrow. Phew!

While V6 remains my favorite volume,V7 was a very well done one and by far the best written thus far. It was honestly super hard to pick five things I didn’t like, and are all pretty minor honestly. Heck I expect V8 to address some of these since V7 was clearly the build-up. But I did manage to make a Top 5 Dislikes List. As always, this is just my personal opinion and you are free to disagree with me. Take everything here with a grain of salt. Anyways, that’s enough exposition. Let the countdown begin~!

#5. Too Many Characters/Lack of Focus

RWBY has a lot of characters. A lot, loooot of them. You can tell it’s an anime for that reason alone, haha. Volume 8 thought might be the winner in the amount of it’s cast. We have our main cast, which consists of nine characters already (ten if you count Ozpin and eleven if you count Maria), which is already a lot to keep up with. But in this volume we have Ironwood, Penny, Winter, the Ace-Ops, Pietro, Robyn and her Happy Huntresses, the Schnee Family, Watts, Tyrian, and the list goes on. And those are just the relevant ones.

To the show’s credit, the volume mostly handles the focus well. They make sure that ones like Ironwood and Penny get a proper amount of focus considering their importance in this volume specifically. They also do a lot to showcase characters like Robyn, Clover, and Marrow so that we understand what they’re like and care about them, which makes how things end up even sadder. That being said, it did cause some of cast I think to get the short end of the stick a bit. Characters like Maria and Jaune pretty much got barely anything, and Blake and Yang would have also been out of luck if not for their talk with Robyn in Chapter 7. Some of the Ace-Ops, like Elm and Vine, and the Happy Huntresses who aren’t Robyn also didn’t get a lot of focus and the latter especially only got bare minimum glimpses into their personalities. Even with characters I was happy with like Ruby, Weiss, Ren, and Nora I feel could have had more done with their arcs here (the latter two especially but we’ll get tot hat later) had there been less characters and/or more time.

This is Number 5 because not only is it a minor issue, but it’s kind of inevitable. Shows only get so much time and the characters we focused on needed that time. Ironwood’s downfall wouldn’t have been nearly as powerful if it weren’t center stage. It’s one of those hard choices where you want to see more, but the show just had other things that took priority for the sake of both production and the story. Ultimately, it was the right decision and at most just makes me wish there was more.

#4. Emotionally Draining

Again, minor. I wasn’t even sure if I should add this because really I think it’s more of a personal thing than anything. But I failed to come up with another option, so... gotta take what I can get.

As good as this volume was, it was a VERY emotionally draining one. It was probably the only time I was kind of happy when it was over because ie meant a chance to breathe until V8. There’s the whole political plot that hit way too close for comfort, Tyrian’s murder spree and Penny’s framing, Ironwood’s downfall, everything from the halfway point of Chapter 11 to the end. Heck eve the first two chapters, and even bits of 3 and 4, were super tense and on edge. We had plenty of light-hearted and fun moments in the beginning. But by Chapter 6, that came to an end (or I didn’t find funny, like JNR’s antics in Chapter 8, sorry guys) and it was V3 again, but somehow even more on-edge.

Like I said, this isn’t really a dislike and is on here because I couldn’t think up anything else. As I said, the writing was very strong and on-point. I was nervous, but I’m pretty sure that’s because the writers wanted the audience nervous. They wanted us to feel the tension and fear. hey wanted us to be as conflicted about everything as the characters that we were watching. It was effective too. But it did leave me relieved that it was all over. I didn’t watch V7 in full again until recently when I got my Blu-Ray copy to put into perspective how drained I had been. I was fine upon rewatch, but yeah... way to rise up my stress levels CRWBY!

#3. The Ren/Nora Conflict

This is related to the Number 5 section. I think we can all agree that Ren and Nora tend to get the short end of the stick compared to Jaune and the rest of the main cast. V4 was an improvement, but 5 and 6 returned them to minor supporting roles and even V4 did more for Ren than Nora imo, who to this day is imo the least developed of the main cast. But clearly they wanted to start changing that, and given Jaune more or less got closure last volume it seemed like an ideal time to give the two development, especially where their relationship is concerned.

While Nora was overall fine, Ren... not so much? They do a god job setting up the two’s conflict, albeit the cliché ‘girl compliments boy, boy ignores her as they’re in the middle of something else’ joke in Chapter 3 was dumb. But Chapter 6 made it clear that there was far more going on. Nora is pushing to help Mantle and in the following chapter we have her snap at Ironwood for forcing so much sacrifice on it, but not on Atlas itself. Ren however is closed off (more tha usual), focus more or less solely on the task, is clealry afraid of their uncertain battle against Salem, and even seems to side with Ironwood in Chapter 7. It’s the first major conflict between the two with Nora just trying to get Ren to talk to her. She even finally kisses him... and we all know what happens after that.

The main issue here is two things. One, we NEVER get any clarity on why Ren is acting so cold to Nora, the one person he was always open around (well... for him anyways). I mean I have a good idea why and I’m 99% sure that V8 is going to go into it, but without any clarity it just comes off as him being unfair to Nora who is just concerned for him. The other issue is there is no closure to 9it. We have the final chapter where Ren tries to fight Neo, but as she’s disguised as Nora it goes badly. The poor boy is tearful, snaps at Nora when she tries to calm him down, and it ends in the boy looking like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown. It’s heart-wrenching, but still ultimately leaves the conflict unresolved. Plus we had a pretty large gap between the Renora Kiss (Chapter 6) and that moment (Chapter 13) with some brief moments sprinkled in. Otherwise, Ren acted as we’d expect even with the goofy plan in Chapter 8 where he seemed unusually chill considering. So it just kinda feels like for a while they... forgot about it.

This is right in the middle because as I said, I expect Volume 8 to go more into this. They’ve outright said that if there was something we were confused by or felt didn’t go anywhere, Volume 8 was going to address. This was set-up, and it leaves me anxious to see how things will go with these two especially going off the brief lines we heard in the trailer. But it still sucked that we got no closure and didn’t go further into why Ren is acting like he is. I know I was unsure of how to feel when it was all over. But I guess we’ll see the final result soon enough.

#2. The Truth Revelations

If you were reading my Volume 7 reviews, you know that I REALLY did not like how Chapters 9 and 10 were done. Why? Because of the truth reveals. Now I now know why t was handled like it was, which actually saved it from being out at Number 1 on the list. But does that change me opinion of it? Nope.

First, I want to talk about how it more or less began. That being Blake and Yang revealing the Amity Project to Robyn in Chapter 7. While I DO like them taking matters into their own hands instead of being complacent, I STILL have major issues on how they didn’t talk to Ruby and Weiss about it. I’ve heard the arguments about it, but imo when we have Yang having major hang ups with lies and half-truths (it’s why she was enraged at Oz), her and Blake seeming to pull the same thing... doesn’t look good. There is zero on-screen indication that they let the other sin about it later, which had they done so then the group could have planned proper steps in helping the two sides which may have caused Ironwood to not jump off the slippery slope as badly. Will V8 mention this? IDK, but it does bother me and I would like it addressed especially concerning the themes of trust.

Then we get to Chapters 9 and 10, where my issues go into effect. Robyn drops the hostility and reveals her knowledge of the project, but wants to try and work with Ironwood. The heroes reveal everything to Ironwood and while understandably shocked, he otherwise takes Salem being unkillable well. Then the two leaders reveal this to Mantle, using Robyn’s Semblance to prove it, and... that makes the citizens okay. Yeah... even knowing what happens later I still have issues with this. Because even with that knowledge, there was NO GOOD REASON fo AY of this to go well.

Robyn may know why Ironwood was depleting Mantle resources, but it doesn’t change that he caused a LOT of damage to Mantle due to it. Ironwood, despite his expected reaction coming later, still took the Salem news far too well especially considering how on-edge of her he’d been at that point. The citizens of Mantle know about Salem, but not why ironwood was depleting resources. Plus it doesn’t change that he was a borderline tyrant towards them and he didn’t try explaining that part to them. The fact that THAT calmed them down so easily, even with Robyn’s presence, just came off as... too easy.

Which it was. All of this was an elaborate psyche out. We think that things are finally going well... then Chapter 11 happens, and it goes downhill from there. Can’t lie, they got me. Chapter 11 was a HUGE gut-punch for that reason. As such, I decided to put this at Number Two. But it’s only because of the psyche out. It was still done to make the shock effective and while it worked, it doesn’t change that it felt like things got downplayed far more than they should have. Still, it saved this form taking the top slot. So what DID make it? Well...

#1. Willow Guilting Weiss

For a character that only got one major appearance, Willow left one Hell of an impact. All we knew about her prior was an off-handed remark by Whitley in V4 that implied that she was an unhappy drunk. Here? We see exactly what Jaques has done to this poor woman. She’s a drunk, unhappy, and her expression just screams exhaustion and broken. She knows that she did nothing for her children once she broke, something Weiss makes very clear, but she does make some amends by giving Weiss her Scroll and the evidence needed to expose Jaques and Watts, She’s even relieved when We3iss confirms that she’s never returning for good. It’s a very powerful scene that in minutes makes Willow one of the saddest, sympathetic characters in the show.

I do have one huge problem, however. That’s when she leaves. She has one request for Weiss, and that’s for her to not forget about Whitley. While it’s been becoming more and more clear that Whitley is a scared kid who has been just as abused by Jaques as his sisters, he WAS still a cocky jerk to Weiss. He was never nice to her, and when he was it was for his own benefit. He had zero issue rubbing into Weiss her misfortune in V4 after the concert and how he’s the new heir. Of course Weiss wouldn’t like him and be justified in believing that he didn’t like her. When she points that out, this is Willow’s line:

Of course not. You left him here... with us.

Yeah, this really pissed me off and I think is a problem on the writer’s end. They want to have Weiss realize, like the audience is, that Whitley is like he is because unlike her and Winter, he can’t escape, has none of the abilities that they do, and is thus still a prisoner and under his father’s control.. He succumbed to it instead of fight or get away because that was all that he could do, and hating his sisters kept him in his father’s favor. It’s all very understandable and yes, having Weiss realize this and make an effort to try and help Whitley would show how much she’s changed and allow the Schnee Family to all break free form Jaques once and for all.

But the way the line is worded make it feel like Willow, and in turn the narrative, is gui9lting Weiss into not realizing this and not helping Whitley prior. Umm... no. Hell no. Weiss was under zero obligation to help her brother, who at the time portrayed himself as an egotistical snake to her. He rubbed his success in her face. he rubbed getting the title in her face. He was even trying to do so again in the very same chapter Willow was introduced. Weiss HAD to help herself. And unlike her, who as far as we know never hated Winter and the two always treated each other well, as far as we can tell Whitley never had that relationship with them and we don’t know if he ever tried. Jaques made sure that Whitley and his sisters would be divided, and Weiss shouldn’t feel guilty at all for not seeing this.

I get why some may get after Weiss and what Willow was trying to hint to her. We know that Whitley is a victim. We know that because he had no one, he became the way he is. He still has hope, but Weiss is the only one in any position to get him the help that he needs. I expect V8 to go into this, especially since Weis sis why Jaques is now in prison and took away the only figure that Whitley had (a HORIRBLE one, but still the only). However Weiss did what she could in her position, and doesn’t have the advantage of NOT being in the audience to everything. Do I expect her to realize all of this and try to get Whitley to as well? Yes, and it’ll be her character coming full-circle as well. But did she deserve to be guilted? Hell No. Don’t think it was intentional, but it still rubbed me the wrong way and I still don’t like that bit. Thus, it is the moment I dislike most in RWBY Volume 7.

Okay, that’s it for now. Tomorrow, I’ll post my Top 5 Likes. Which trust me, I got plenty of ‘em~! See you all then~!

#rwby #rwby reviews #rwby musings #callie reviews #top likes/dislikes

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wolvesofinnistrad · 5 years

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Hey, Love your BallumSex cannons. Can you do some more with Top Callum and Bottom Ben. Some where Ben can't believe how big Callum is. And them being really kinky about it Thank you :)

Hmm I can see like size kink but idk how much other kink will come into this (but rest assured I have at least 2 other kinky Ballum asks in my inbox so it will be done. :D

(Headcanons under the assumption all the did was jerk each other off and very quick blowjob in the park because it makes it more interesting here.)

Objectively Ben knew Callum was big that night in the park.

Like, the thing felt HEAVY in his hand.

But it was dark and heated and fast and dirty and the most he got out of it was trying to wrap his lips around it.

Of course Callum had come, not embarrassingly fast, but fast enough Ben didn’t nearly have enough time to really process what his dick felt like, tasted like, smelled like, and just how big it truly was.

When they’re finally together he gets his chance, they’re kissing on the couch, somehow lazy and heated.

“Callum your arm is digging into my hip.”

Ben looks at his boyfriend and he sees him blush, then feels two hands grab his ass.

“That’s not your arm is it...” Ben says, gulping as Callum shakes his head, clearly a bit shy still.

Ben drops his head to Callum’s chest and groans, sends out a thanks to whatever god deemed him worthy of a boyfriend that was both as nice as Callum was, and blessed with a humongous cock.

Ben’s a size queen, so sue him he knows what he likes.

He’s had guys that were big before, a nice 7 or 8 inches, once even a 9 inch bloke from India that made Ben act like a little bitch in heat over his prick.

But Callum, he doesn’t know if his brain is going to turn to mush as he stares at it through Callum’s slacks.

His hand comes over it and strokes him through the pants, making Callum moan almost as much as Ben does.

His hands shake as he undoes the zipper and pulls Callum’s pants down around his thighs, watching that massive cock spring free.

Ben’s just, in awe of it’s size.

Callum is by far bigger than any man he’s been with before, for fucks sake he’s bigger than some porn stars he’s watched in his favorite category (big cock, obvi)

“You alright?”

“Yes just, bloody hell Callum, you’ve got a monster between your legs...”

Callum gets shy at that, blushing. “Is it too big? I know Whit said before that it was, uh, scary.”

Ben reaches out and grabs hold of Callum’s cock, whining when he realizes that his hand just barely wraps around it fully, if it were any thicker his fingers would just barely reach.

“Callum, I need you to understand that you have the prettiest, hugest, most mouthwatering cock I’ve ever seen in my life and if I don’t suck it and ride it right this moment I think I might actually die.”

Callum blushes deeper at that, but he seems happy that Ben isn’t scared off by his size.

Ben wonders how Callum is going to react when he has someone that truly enjoys that size for all its worth.

“Ok, fuck this, off the couch, out of the clothes, I need you on the bed for this.”

Callum complies and when Ben’s sitting over his boyfriend on the bed once more he reaches for his edible lube (because of course he has that) and starts slathering it on Callum’s hard cock.

He holds the base steady and that’s when it hits him. He takes his other hand and places it above that hand on the shaft.

There’s still more cock even with both his hands on the shaft.

“Fucking shit...”

Ben can’t control himself any longer and dives in, taking what’s left in his mouth and sucking like a man possessed.

He hears Callum gasping and moaning, and it’s so incredibly hot, but what’s crazier is that he can tell he’s got at least a good 4 inches in his mouth before his lips touch his hand.

For a moment Ben thinks he might actually cry.

He just starts going to town sucking Callum off, using both hands (Both hands!!!) to jerk his boyfriend off fully.

“Fuck, Ben, that feels amazing...”

Ben doesn’t say that his mouth is literally watering and would have been more than enough to lube Callum’s cock alone.

He sucks to the head, lips gathering the foreskin and tugging it, even getting a bit risky and gently, very gently, grabbing it with his teeth which makes Callum moan harder.

After that he slowly pulls the foreskin back and works on the head.

His hole twitches at the thought of taking this inside him, his mouth is having a bit of a go trying to get it to fit.

If he has to buy a dildo training kit to work up to taking every glorious inch of his boyfriend he will, he’s going to get all of that inside him.

Stopping for a moment he moves up to kiss Callum, wanting to reassure him that this isn’t just about his massive cock, evne if his brain is kind of hyperfocusing on that aspect right now.

Ben’s never worried about his own size, mostly becaue he’s a power bottom, but he’s got a respecteble 7 inches or so, but next to Callum’s massive manhood even he looks tiny.

“Callum, Cal, I need you to know, I want to ride you til I drain every last drop out of those huge balls (because Callum’s got some grapefruits on him too), but it might take a bit because you are just, bloody insanely large. But I like it, I really, really like it, ok?”

Callum nods, kissing Ben and smiling. “Glad you aren’t freaked out.”

“Callum if you knew gay men better you’d understand how funny that question is. But yes, I love you, and I love this cock.”

Ben goes back to blowing Callum after they kiss for a bit, but he grabs the lube again and begins to finger himself.

It’s been a while since he’s had a good fuck, especially anything close to Callum’s size, but he’s a trooper and he wants it really really bad.

After a while of trying to get the angle right he concedes he could use some help.

Besides Callum’s hands are frankly massive as well and he’s pretty sure a few of those fingers will do more to open him than his own, evne if they’re less skilled.

So he flips around, wagging his ass in his boyfriend’s face as he keeps sucking his cock.

“Mind a little help?”

Callum lubes up his fingers, surprised at the pleasant smell of the lube (”It’s strawberry”) and starts to work on Ben’s ass.

Ben’s moans are muffled by having that fat prick in his mouth, but it’s still enough to make Callum even harder, cock leaking directly onto Ben’s tongue with more precum.

By the time Callum has three fingers sliding nicely into his lover, Ben has managed to get about halfway to three quarters of Callum down his throat.

Even with having no gag reflex its tough, and the position isn’t right, but Ben promises himself he’s going to start training with some dildos for his mouth to if he has to, he just wants to be able to have all of Callum in him.

Ben breaks away, thankful for the reprieve as his jaw was beginning to hurt, and moves up to kiss Callum as he lubes his cock again.

“Should I, uh, you know, get on top?” Callum asks, earnest and uncertain.

“Normally, I’d say sure, but with this big boy,” Ben chuckles as he strokes Callum’s cock, “I think I need to be in control.”

Callum nods dutifully and Ben moves back, rocking his ass on Callum’s dick, letting it slide between his cheeks so that both the shaft and his hole are completely covered in lube.

He’s going to have to change these sheets first thing in the morning.

“Can you just, hold the base so it’s steady, right?” Ben asks, arching up on his knees.

Callum does as asked, using his other hand to help Ben steady some, or maybe just an excuse to touch him.

Ben moves against the blunt head of Callum’s cock and groans, feels it stretching him just to take that.

“Fuck, fuckkkkk,” Ben moans as he keeps pressing until finally the head pops past his tight ring.

he can feel his hole stretched taut, muscles trying to close but unable to thanks to the girth keeping him open.

Ben hears Callum hiss in pleasure and he slaps a hand on his chest.

“Just, gimme a minute to adjust, shit...”

“Just take it slow, we don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want.”

“I want, I very much bloody want Callum.”

“Okay, I just don’t want ya getting hurt.”

“Trust me, I know my limits. I’m not taking it all tonight, by far. I gotta work up to that. So lucky you, I’m gonna need a lot of practice.”

They both laugh at that, smiling and kissing as Ben adjusts to the intrusion.

Over the next five or ten minutes Ben slowly works more of Callum’s impressive length inside him, until he’s about halfway.

“Halfway, yeah? Fuck, that name was more apt than I thought.”

Callum rolls his eyes at that, giving Ben a little pat on the bum too.

“Ok, I think this is about all I can take, roll over?”

They exchange positons, Callum over Ben now, still inside him, the movement making them both moan.

“OK, ok, take your hand and put it here,” Ben says, making Callum grab his own dick about two inches from where it’s lodged in Ben.

“Just, keep your hand there and you can fuck me, with that much of your dick. I can take that much right now, just, try not to do any more than that okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“If it’s too much I’ll stop you. Just, trust me Callum.”

Callum does, and he bends down to lay a kiss on Ben’s lips before drawing back out and going back in.

Ben’s so incredibly tight that Callum can barely stand it.

Callum is so incredibly large that Ben thinks he might cum on the spot.

The strokes are slow and measured, cautious, but Ben’s thankful for it because he feels split open on every thrust.

The burn is intense, but with Callum’s girth he can’t help but drag over Ben’s prostate with every thrust in and out which offsets it all with bursts of white hot pleasure.

Ben loses time for a while, the pleasure and stretch and the feel of Callum’s hand on his hip to ground him swirling together.

Callum is careful never to go past the limit Ben set, evne as he speeds up, his own hunger growing.

“I think I got a hang of where the limit is. I’m gonna take off my hand okay?”

Ben barely evne hears him but he nods.

Callum starts really plowing him then, but he’s not getting more than he had before, just faster, harder.

Ben’s eyes roll up into the back of his head as Callum really doesn’t even need skill at this point, he just has to press into Ben and he’s a moaning, mewling mess.

A low whine breaks from Ben’s throat, turning into a high pitched Keen as Callum lifts his ankles over his shoudlers and really starts hitting him deep.

“More, gimme more. I wwant that big fucking cock Callum!”

“No Ben, you said to be cautious. You aren’t taking all of me tonight.”

“PLease, I need ti fuck!”

“No.”

Ben is begging for it like a cockslut after that, almost crying for Callum to give him all of it, but Callum never does, and later Ben will be thankful for that since he’d be wrecked if he tried to take it all tonight.

So lost in pleasure is Ben that he doesn’t evne notice his orgasm sneaking up, only that his own pleasure is building higher and higher.

Callum’ groaning and grunting and the sunds and the feel and all of it just becomes too much and Ben is coming untouched, screaming as the orgasm rocks his body.

His hole is practically convulsing, but it’s so filled by Callum it can’t barely move, which seems to create a feedback loop of sensations that drives the orgams on longer, milking Callums’ cock.

“Fuck, Ben!” Callum spills over then, the pressure on his cock too much as he pumps Ben full.

They both collapse after that, a tangled mess of limbs, sweaty and sticky bodies clinging together as they try to catch their breath.

Its about five minutes before either of them can speak, but finally Ben manages “I feel like I’ve been impaled.”

There’s a soft laugh after it though so Callum doesn’t worry too much.

“Was it... good for ya?” Callum asks, still out of breath.

Ben turns to Callum with slightly glazed eyes. “If it were any better I think I might have passed on. I’d be in one of those pine boxes of yours tomorrow. Here lies Ben Mitchell, fucked to death by Callum Highway’s massive fucking prick.”

“Shut up!” Callum shoves Ben playfully.

“Ben’s entire insides had been rearranged by that monster cock. Reports say Mr. Highway was arrested for smuggling a lethal weapon in his pants.”

Callum hides his face, laughing more than he has in years, feeling lighter and better than he has either.

And Ben, Ben feels so fucked out that hes not sure he can work tomorrow.

He might not evne be able to walk

“Seriously, they should knight your cock Callum, for services to the country.”

“It’s only serving one man now.”

“I will gladly be the sheathe for your blade good knight, the throne for your-”

“Ben, shut up.”

Ben smiles, kisses Callum. He can get used to this.

#ballum #ben mitchell #callum highway #mine #my fic #headcanons #fanfic #benway

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vloggerparker · 5 years

Text

twelve months || p.p

↬ pairing(s): Peter Parker x adopted Stark!reader

↬ genre/warnings: angst/comfort fic, PTSD, anxiety & depression, mentions of death, post Endgame (that’s a warning in itself tbh)

↬ word count: 1.3k

↬ synopsis: twelve months have passed since Earth lost her best defender, and it hits some harder than others.

↬ a/n: this is my piece for @blissfulparker’s writing challenge w the prompt “You’re hurting can’t you see?” & again, congrats on 5K bb!! <3 also, I’m a noob idk how to put a ‘read more’ option on mobile sorry (edit: I wrote this before ffh came out so idk what tf I’m taking about)

Twelve months. Already it’s been a year living in a world without Tony Stark.

An arrangement was made where you lived with Aunt May during the fall, winter, and spring so you could attend school with Peter and Ned. During the off-season you lived with Pepper and Morgan, but during the year you visited at least twice a month. The visits were always short, and nobody but Morgan had the fight in them to complain.

Being obsessively grateful had become the new trend.

It was a month after Tony’s death when Peter was professionally diagnosed with survivor’s trauma, a subtype of PTSD accompanied by anxiety and acute depression. His symptoms had appeared only a day after Thanos’ defeat. Peter confessed his feelings to Aunt May after one specific night where his nightmare had been so horrific it woke you up out of your sleep and you had to coddle him while he cried into your shirt.

Five months after that Peter mostly recovered. His daily scheduled appointments with his therapist became weekly, and eventually he assured everybody he didn’t need them anymore. We all believed him, and rightfully so. Peter was at peace.

It was around that same time that Peter started to tag along on your monthly visits to see Pepper and Morgan. You, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey would catch up, seek comfort in one another while Peter and Morgan would swap the best stories about Iron Man. Harley came around sometimes, too, sharing his own tales about the Mechanic.

Even after Peter’s recovery, Ned wasn’t enthusiastic about Spider-Man anymore. You didn’t undergo the same therapy and depressive episodes like Peter had, and still Ned didn’t probe you for details. He wasn’t as enthusiastic as he used to be about superheroes. Nobody mentioned it.

Flash didn’t join the dusted the five years ago when Thanos first snapped his fingers. He graduated at the top of his class and got accepted into one of the best colleges in the country. The week you Peter and Ned returned back to school after things had settled, Flash paid Midtown a visit. The five years had done his personality justice. Flash apologized for his bullying that he claimed manifested from underlying jealousy, and offered his condolences. You all accepted it and moved on.

Seven months after Tony’s death and things began to change. You and Peter spent time alone, but now you did it with each other. The patches in your relationship were being sewn back together, each stitch binding strong. You held hands, shared beds, your hugs were longer. Your kisses were short and sweet, and other times they were needy and passionate. Aunt May loved the idea of you two being together, there for one another in a way she couldn’t be, but she never pushed it onto you guys, and you loved that about her.

Twelve months. Already a year has come and gone living behind a mask crafted of lies. You’re not okay. A year has passed and the absence of Tony Stark in your life is crippling. Your strong front was waning.

“Your lies aren’t working anymore,” Peter says softly from next to you in bed. He knows you’re not asleep yet, but you give him silence in reply. He continues anyway. “I hear you up at night because you can’t sleep, and I know when we visit Pepper and you leave the room it’s to go sit in his shop.”

You can already feel the muscles in your chest tighten at his words, the urge to cry amplifying. You swallowed back the lump in your throat and pulled the blanket up to your chin. “Please, don’t worry about me, you need your peace of mind.” you tell him as you force your eyes shut.

“And you don’t?” he quipped, and a bright light shines behind your eyelids as he switches a lamp on. “You’re hurting can’t you see? You haven’t even cried. Not since that day.”

You open your eyes and turn over in the bed to face him. You can tell he’s trying not to cry, trying to give you the opportunity to be the vulnerable one.

“Hey, talk to me.” his voice is soft and low, yet demanding. “Are you okay?”

There’s no worse question to ask a person when something’s gone completely sideways in their life than if they’re okay.

Tony was more than a teammate, a co-worker, or a friend and Peter knew this. You found a home in Tony, and without him it’s like the walls have come crashing down and the floors have caved in on you. The act of pretending like he didn’t leave and take the best part of you with him was draining.

You sat up in the bed, eyes narrowed to slits as you asked him, “can you be okay in this situation?”

He’s entirely stunned by the forward response, and at an utter loss of words.

“It never stops hurting. You never get used to the pain, you just make room for it. It will never be okay.”

Peter opens his mouth to speak, but ultimately decides against it. You give him another chance to say something, anything, and still he stares in silence.

You laid back down in the bed, your back to him. “Good night, Peter.”

“No, we’re going to talk about this.” he protested, a real bitterness in his tone that drove you up the wall.

In a fraction of a second you’re sat up in the bed on your knees. “What is there to talk about?!” you wailed, gesticulating wildly. There was no thought given to how it was well past one in the morning, or that May was sound asleep just down the hall. There was no thought at all, and the words that sounded out were nothing but raw emotion. “Bad things happen! You can’t change and you can’t predict them!”

“You’re right, you can’t change what happened, but you can change how you react to it!” he yelled just as loud, now standing bedside.

“Learn that in therapy?” you retorted, and regretted it the instant the words left your mouth. You dropped your head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

Peter sighed sadly. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” you shook your head, “I don’t care how angry I am, I never want to use that against you. I’m sorry for being unreasonable. You’re just trying to help.”

“I am,” he agreed, sitting halfway on the bed beside you. “I just hate seeing you so miserable. You’re good at hiding it, and it took me awhile to see it past my own hurt, but I know you. You’re unhappy.”

The hurt becomes more evident on your face throughout Peter’s consoling until your eyes are glimmering with watery tears. You swipe them away, but they return instantly, and it’s so out of character for you to be crying that you don’t know how to control or stop it. His eyes soften for a moment as he watches you, and he can’t stop himself from visibly frowning.

Peter grabbed your wrists allowing unchecked tears to slide down your cheeks and dribble off your chin. “Hey,” he said softly, calmingly, “you know, over time you start to realize it’s okay to admit things aren’t okay. Your feelings are valid; you don’t always have to be the strong one.”

And just like that the floodgates opened. The cries were hysterical, sobs only being interrupted by the need for breath. Emotional pain seeped from every pore as tears burst forth like water from a dam.

Peter engulfed you in his arms as he said, “I want us to take steps so that you don’t feel like you have to isolate your feelings. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you can’t talk to me.” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, coddling you like you’d done for him all those months ago.

Twelve months. Already it’s been a year living in a world without Tony Stark. Peter’s comforting embrace as you cried into his shirt granted you freedom of the pain, and for the first time in twelve months you didn’t feel completely alone.

“I’m right here, and you don’t need to hurt when I’m here.”

↬ a/n: uhhh follow me for more LMAO reblogging/commenting is super encouraging!! & check out my masterlist to see if there’s anything there you like!!

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itsmyusualphannie · 4 years

Text

something wrong in the village

Chapter 4/5: numbers Beta: @candanandphilnot Rating: T Warnings: Read on ao3

Summary: Fiona Lester has a secret. Dan Howell thinks they hate each other. Dan meets an online friend and comes to realize something important about himself while juggling a changing relationship with his parents, friends, and Fiona.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

The first thing Dan did upon waking up the next morning, after slapping the alarm on his phone, was to crawl out of bed and blearily stagger his way to his desk. He felt a bit like death warmed over. He’d stayed up late last night - or early in the morning, depending on how he looked at it - even though he knew it was a bad idea. That one message to Phil had sparked an entire conversation, though. The deepest one they had had so far. Dan felt like his most repressed emotions had been scooped out of him and laid bare before an empathetic almost-stranger sort-of-best-friend.

Upon sprawling sleepily in his desk chair, Dan typed in his computer password and brought up the chat on the cheesy ‘FRIENDS’ website. He could see the last few messages exchanged between him and Phil, but scrolled up further to glance over some of the others. 2 a.m. sleep-drunk messages were terrifying to look back on, but these didn’t seem so horrible.

it’s not like a solid thing, read one of Phil’s messages, and below it, Dan’s reply.

yeah but i’ve only ever felt like that toward guys and like one or two girls. idk. is there even a label for that?

You don’t have to have a label unless it feels right. i mean I say i’m gay because i want to but you don’t have to

idk, Dan had simply replied, and even now, in the sun-glare of early morning, he still didn’t know. He scrolled back to the bottom of the chat, to the most recent messages.

i’m so tired i should probably sleep lol, Dan had typed.

Yeah it’s a school night! rip to us. There had been a long wait between that and his next message, where Dan had just stared at the laptop screen and been unable to think of anything original to say, but then Phil had added going to sleep now i guess lol. gn!

night, Dan had somehow managed to type without any spelling mistakes induced by his tired fingers, and then he had staggered to bed.

There was a new message waiting from Phil, time-stamped only a few minutes earlier. He’d probably just gotten up for school too.

hey i just thought it’d be cool to text if you want? so we can message when we’re not just home :) you don’t have to if you don’t want! but if you do, my number is 01184 80222.

Dan rubbed his eyes, trying to smear out the sleep, before reading it again. cool, he replied. He read it one more time. “Oh,” he said out loud.

He reacted instinctively, crossing the room to find his phone again and unlocking it. It took him less than a minute to save the number under a new contact that he called “phil the fellow nerd.” He looked between his phone and the open webpage on his computer, and then he closed out the browser on his laptop. It would be easier this way, now.

He tapped on the message icon by Phil’s new contact and hesitated before slowly typing out a message. hey it’s me, internet stalker dan :)

With that, Dan shoved his phone deep into his pocket, tugged on his shoes, and headed out. He made it halfway outside before he realized he was still wearing his pyjamas. Today was going to be just...great.

~~~

“Hey, dude! What’s up!” To emphasize the greeting, Sam offered Dan a hearty punch.

“Ow,” said Dan mildly. He rubbed his shoulder and took another bite of his sandwich. “It’s...not up.”

Sam laughed and threw himself into the seat next to Dan, digging into his own lacklustre cafeteria meal. “Ready for that test today?”

Dan and Sam did not have any classes together. Dan also had no test today.

“Sure,” Dan agreed.

The clatter of the lunchroom was almost a dull roar today. It still felt heavy, oppressive noise pressing into Dan’s ears and against the mild headache that he was once again nursing. He probably should have grabbed a painkiller from his bathroom this morning, but he’d been a little rushed after his attempt at heading to school in his nightclothes. Now that would have been a nightmare.

Another guy seated himself across from Dan, briefly glancing up and giving Dan a cursory nod. Dan chewed a bite of his sandwich and returned the nod.

“So, had a cool ride here this morning,” said Sam around an open mouthful of something that looked like mashed potatoes or glue. It looked more like the latter. “My board’s got a loose wheel though, gotta get that fixed.”

Dan took a loud slurp from his water bottle. “Yep,” he said.

“Talked to Johnathan too,” continued Sam, undeterred by Dan’s clear disinterest. “He went out with that girl Sam or whatever her name was and they hooked up in the…”

Dan set down his sandwich, tuned out Sam, and pulled his phone from his pocket. A new message from “phil the fellow nerd” was waiting for him, and a subconscious smile pulled at his lips as he clicked on it. This was his first message from Phil.

hi, internet stalker dan. This is pretty convenient, totally not messaging in class right now

Dan huffed a laugh and wiped his fingers on his trousers to remove any extra sandwich crumbs before replying. don’t message in class you nutter, you’ll get caught and then who will i talk to?

my teacher :D replied Phil instantly. i’m sure you’ll get along great.

ew.

“Ooh,” said Sam. He leaned toward Dan, eyes bright as he tried to sneak a glimpse of Dan’s phone. Nonplussed, Dan tilted the phone away from him, waiting for a response. “Who’re you texting, Danny boy? Finally got a bird to talk to you?”

“Yeah, it’s your mum,” Dan retorted. The boy across from him slapped the table and laughed.

Sam snorted. “Sure, mate, have your secrets.” He chomped into another bite of the glue-like substance that coated his spoon.

dw class is almost over anyway, about to head to my next class, popped up a new message from Phil, and as if on cue, the bell on the wall of the lunchroom shrilled loudly with its obnoxious warning to head to class.

Dan climbed to his feet, shrugging his backpack over his shoulder. He collected his trash with one hand, typing out a reply to Phil with the other. omw to class right now. english, gross.

Somehow, this felt easier than anything Dan had ever done before. Messaging Phil wasn’t something that he dreaded, unlike literally any time Sam the self-proclaimed surfer tried to strike up a “bro” conversation. Even that nod with the guy sitting across from him had wearied Dan. These brief messages from Phil seemed to somehow have the opposite effect. Reading them felt more like a breath of fresh air or a sip of cold, soothing water than the draining outcome of most conversations. Maybe it was that they were just words on a screen, but Dan didn’t think so. Dan thought he might feel the same if Phil was standing in front of him right now.

He dumped his trash in the bin by the doors and headed to class, fingers rapid on his screen as he walked. Sam went with him, but Dan ignored the stream of chatter that was directed toward him. He navigated around other students with ease, making his way to the door of his class within a few minutes of leaving the lunchroom.

i have english now too lol, read the last message from Phil. gtg now though, talk to you l8er

the fact that you actually just typed ‘l8er’ disgusts me, Dan informed Phil. No reply came, but Dan had a feeling that Phil had seen the message anyway. good luck in class, Dan added, then slipped his phone into his pocket.

“ - so I gave her my least favourite banana,” Sam was saying, and he laughed uproariously at his own uninteresting story he had just been relating to Dan.

Dan was about ninety-five percent sure that he had heard this story before. He hadn’t listened those times, either. He stepped out of the way of a passing student and gazed through the open door to his English classroom. A few people were still milling inside, so Dan resolved to wait until they left. He had no interest in starting a class before he actually had to join.

“Yeah, so guess I’ll see you later!” said Sam. He socked Dan in the shoulder again, which Dan did nothing but wince against. He had probably developed actual muscles from the daily punches.

“See you,” he said, more apathetically than he had even planned to be.

“Cool, I’ll - oh damn,” breathed Sam, and Dan’s attention was snagged. He hadn’t heard that tone since last month when Johnathan’s wealthy grandfather had bought him a cherry red sports car for his sixteenth birthday and Johnathan had driven it up in front of school to show it off to the groups of girls that hung outside after school. He had gotten a flat tyre the next day and hadn’t driven it to school since, but the appreciation from his friends had been enormously gratifying so he gave quite a few of them rides to and from his oversized house and the ice cream parlour down the road. Dan had not been one of those friends.

“Dude,” said Sam, still in that same voice. He punched Dan in the shoulder again, but it was half-hearted as he stared down the hallway. “Look.”

Dan was already following his gaze. He felt his own jaw fall slack as he took in the sight moving down the hallway toward him.

It was Fiona. She was different, though. She moved with rare ease through the sparse crowd in the hallway. Her shoulders were square, confidence evident in her posture as she strode toward Dan and their shared classroom. This clear self-assurance wasn’t the only change, though. There was an obvious change from only yesterday, where her disdainful stare had bored through Dan in the bathroom encounter. Her long, flowing dark locks were shorn. Instead of the usual cascading hair toppling past her shoulders, she had shaved the sides of her head and the top was styled only a few inches short, ruffled into a playful quiff.

Something burned hot in Dan’s chest. He swallowed harshly, unable to tear his gaze from the new hairstyle. It suited her almost unfairly, the short sides of the cut highlighting her sharp cheekbones and sloped jawline. Her eyebrows were still that pale brown hue, arched evenly over her cool blue eyes. Said eyebrows narrowed harshly as her gaze snagged on Dan. Her lip curled as she drew closer, but she didn’t speak a word to him.

“Hey,” said Sam, unaware or uncaring of the crystal contempt obvious in her expression. “Cool cut, my dude. You look hot!” He nudged Dan, elbow digging harshly into Dan’s ribs. Dan didn’t notice, still staring unblinkingly at Fiona. “Doesn’t she look hot?”

“Hot,” Dan repeated without really thinking about it. Fiona didn’t seem to hear him, as she cast Sam a slightly less contemptuous look.

“Thanks,” she said.

Sam beamed. “Sure!” he said. “So you’re a lesbian now?”

Sam was a fucking dumbass.

Fiona’s gaze slid back to Dan, scalding him with obvious scorn as if he was the one who had asked the question. “No,” she said, gaze boring into him, “I definitely like guys,” and with that, she swept past both of them and into the classroom, ignoring the other students still inside. Dan dreaded having to follow her inside.

“She’s totally gay,” Sam confidently informed Dan.

Dan punched Sam in the shoulder.

~~~

Dan was drawing a random person. He was definitely drawing someone random. The quick strokes of his pencil over the sketching pad were casual and brief, etching out nothing more than the portrait of a sharp-cheekboned, slope-jawed, dark-haired, narrow-eyed person - “Fuck,” said Dan aloud, his pencil pausing over the paper.

“I’m sorry?” asked his teacher.

Dan blinked and glanced up. Ah, yes. He was in English class. His teacher stared him down, the marker in her hand hovering above the board. “Um,” he said. “I just...remembered an assignment I need to work on.” He offered a tight-lipped smile, which was returned with obvious gritted teeth by his teacher. For as much as she cared about him talking in class, she never paid attention to what he was constantly drawing.

“Like I was saying,” she said, turning back to the board, “we’re going to be going over these lines of poetry and…”

Sighing, but quietly, Dan frowned down at his sketchbook. He flipped to a new piece of paper and lowered the pencil to it, but hesitated to start. He could hear a scoff from Fiona in the seat behind him, and yet no kick was offered to his seat. She hadn’t started anything since their suspension, but she’d at least slipped him some cutting insults when the teacher’s back was turned. Now, he got nothing but huffs.

Dan tried again, this time an ambiguous sketch of a teenager sprawled across a bench. He grew the outlines of long, lanky limbs, a very male torso and lower appendages, and slender calves and feet. Once he got to the face, his pencil moved without his permission, detailing the long nose, sharp eyes, and arched eyebrows of - Fiona.

Motherfucker.

Dan was tempted to rip out the page, but that would draw too much attention, so he just angrily folded over the page to a fresh paper and dropped his pencil on his desk.

Bzzz. His phone vibrated briefly with a notification, warm against his leg where he’d tucked it when he sat down. Dan tried to ignore it, but it buzzed again a moment later. And then again. At least it wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear, not even Fiona, who had keen ears and was right behind him.

Well. He couldn’t draw anything, if Fiona’s face was going to invade everything he worked on, so he might as well. He watched the teacher, but her back was still turned as he slipped careful fingers beneath his thigh to slip his phone out. He placed it atop his sketchbook and half-closed the book over it. It was extremely unsubtle, but at least his teacher wouldn’t immediately be able to tell what he was doing. He still kept an eye on her as he swiped at his phone, though.

Three messages from Phil were waiting for him.

Bored

booored

dan entertain me

Dan had to physically force himself not to laugh as he painstakingly typed out a reply. what, i’m in class. i can’t just leave to talk to you

Only a few seconds passed before a reply popped up. Lame. don’t you know that’s your sole purpose for existence, to talk to me?

This was terrifying, Dan decided, but it was fantastic. He and Phil had talked so much before and after school, whenever Dan could get his hands on his computer, but now they could actually talk in class.

besides, I’m in class too, came in another message from Phil. living life on the edge, that’s me

if you get caught i’m going to laugh at you

I am the sneak master I would never get caught, Phil replied confidently.

“Excuse me!” barked their teacher from the front of the room. “Are you on your phone in class?”

Dan carefully did not react, letting his fingers slip away from his phone and slowly lifting his eyes to stare at her with a level gaze. He could still see the glare of the phone out of the corner of his eye, lighting up the pale pages of his sketchbook that were drooping over it.

But she wasn’t looking at him. She crossed the length of the room in a quick dozen strides, pausing next to Dan’s desk to stare behind him. “Miss Fiona,” she said sternly. “You know the rules.”

“Sorry,” said Fiona, in the most insincere tone Dan had ever heard in his life. The teacher apparently accepted it though, as she just nodded.

“Put it away. If I see it again, I’ll confiscate it until the rest of class.” With that, she turned and made her way back to the board.

Dan finally breathed. He couldn’t dare keep texting Phil now, since his teacher would be on high alert for the rest of class. He spared a quick glance at his phone, though, but didn’t see anything from Phil. Maybe the other boy had finally realized the danger of texting in class. Dan snuck the phone from his sketchbook to its original place beneath his thigh.

Although he waited for it, no other messages buzzed the phone against his leg for the rest of class.

~~~

Dan’s morning had been rushed, obviously, but there were four items he had not let himself forget. They were currently crammed into the bottom of his backpack. He’d left his English textbook - it hadn’t even been needed this class, anyway - at home so they could fit. They rattled together, quietly but still noticeable, as he slowly climbed to his feet.

He’d been sitting on this toilet for the past thirty minutes after his last class. Dozens of other students had come in and out of the bathroom since then, but the rush had slowed to a trickle and now it was finally empty as everyone left school for the day.

Dan’s ass was fully numb at this point, so he kicked his legs out in ways that probably would have looked hilarious if anyone had seen him as he ducked out of the stall and made his way across the room. He locked the door and reached high above one of the sinks to crack open the tiny window that led outside, and then he took a moment to take a breath and glance around the room. It still smelled heavily of piss and the five stalls, three sinks, and two urinals were still varying shades of ugly grey, matching the walls.

His phone chirped in his pocket. He’d taken it off vibrate once he left class, and had spent most of his time hiding in the stall earlier by texting Phil. Just the usual, mundane, hilarious, witty messages that left Dan feeling like a weight had been dragged from his chest. But that was beside the point.

Just got home, said Phil’s most recent text when Dan dug his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. time for homework :(

ha, good luck, Dan replied. He put the phone back and then shook out his arms, brushing his thumbs over his fingers anxiously. He was going to do this.

Hoisting his backpack into one of the sinks, he unzipped it and rifled briefly to the bottom before he found what he was looking for. It was a cold metal can, decorated with bright smears of colour and a solid grey lid. It rattled when he shook it. He placed it on the floor next to the wall that was violent with marker sketches, then dug a few more similar cans from his backpack. Each one had a differently coloured lid, one with pink, one blue, and the last one white.

Dan took a step back and glanced over the wall. The cans before it were full of potential, something fierce and proud inside of them ready to be released. The wall was ugly now, black scars of marker marrings its dull grey paint, the occasional splash of colour where someone had discovered a coloured marker in their bag. And there was that tiny trans flag, its bright colours muted by the slurs and graphic art scrawled around it.

If Dan was caught once he picked up one of those cans, he wouldn’t be suspended. He’d be expelled. The danger of it felt valuable. Adrenaline already sang through his veins, although he had yet to start.

Hauling in another deep breath, he let his chest expand and relax with the strength of it, and then he reached down and snagged the grey can of paint.

He began.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfic au #high school #trans phil #misunderstandings

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weaselle · 4 years

Text

can i... can I yell for a minute?

the last couple of years... So I had a break up (it was the extra sad kind of break up where after almost 5 years we still loved each other but not necessarily romantically anymore and it just was not working) and I had to move away and leave my dog (but I still get to see him. At least that)

Anyway, I had been house-husbanding and doing odd jobs on the side (ask me about that, being 100% responsible for running the household is WORK) so when I moved away, I was unemployed.

I wound up living in a tent for a while, and then I got a vehicle. And a job.

The job was restaurant manager and I worked 65 hours a week and they still didn’t pay me enough to afford my own apartment.

_____________________________________________________________________

The vehicle is a minivan, and the plan is to convert it into a stealth camper - I’m like, halfway done. The California economy, a distillment of the US economy, is bullshit, and I’m not going to spend the best hours of my life just to afford a life I can barely tolerate. A camper van lets me opt out of the whole rent situation. That way, I have a home that I own outright, that no landlord or bank can take away from me, and I can have both time and money to pursue a real life I can enjoy.

So. I had this restaurant manager job, and I was living in the minivan. Not a camper van, because it takes a lot of time and work and money to convert a minivan into a proper home. So I just worked and saved money and lived in my car. Some weeks, I worked 100 hours. After a year, I calculated I had enough money saved to do the conversion, and since I couldn’t work on the van while I lived in it, nor while I spent most of my waking hours laboring for someone else, I quit the job. I’m just waiting tables 3 days a week right now to cover expenses. And I did the thing I really really didn’t want to do.

I moved back into my childhood home. With my parents.

It was only supposed to be for a few weeks. BUT.

A: the minivan is a NIGHTMARE to work on. I’m not a construction type, I’m basically a sorority girl in a beard and loving it, and while Elle Woods and I can both do anything we put our minds to, I figured the best thing would be to pay someone who was good at building things to help me. Which I am doing, I hired one of my old restaurant employees who used to be a carpenter. The problem is, once the van was gutted it became clear there were significant challenges that don’t occur in normal building projects, such as how do you support anything when you can’t drill into the floor or walls without hitting, like, the gas tank. Or the brake lines. Or the freon hosing for the air conditioner, or any one of the hundreds of important things they cram around every inch of a car. And there are zero straight lines. You can’t build a rectangular counter to put along one side, because that side has zero straight lines to butt up against - the floor isn’t flat, the walls curve oddly both vertically and horizontally, and there are weird bits that poke out. Anyway that brings us to

B: I am over budget (I saved more than I planned on needing, but also, I had to spend $3,000 on a new transmission I hadn’t expected, and there have been other issues) And what is really really killing me, I am over my time budget as well - I have been living here for MONTHS instead of weeks. And it is driving me literally crazy.

I’m not, like, abused or anything, but there is, idk, gas lighting? My parents go through my stuff whenever I’m gone, like every single day. They move it around, and sometimes throw stuff of mine away, and if I have garbage (in a garbage bag, in a garbage can, where garbage goes) they will also go through my trash and see what I throw away (so like, they know every little thing I do, what I eat, if I bought stockings or nail polish or high heels, everything, because there is evidence in the garbage).

They’ll put dirty clothes in with my clean clothes, move my work apron to a different place, just weird shit. I can’t prove they read everything I write if it’s not locked behind a password on my computer, but I have caught my mother reading my journal on more than one occasion in the past. There’s no locks on the doors, and they just open the bedroom door and come in whenever they want, whether I’m naked, or crying, or whatever (both have happened recently).

I have mental health issues that make this especially difficult for me, but telling them that has only made my mental health the reason I am upset about these things, instead of the fact that I cannot have more privacy than a literal prison inmate. It is not being crazy to require respect of my privacy and autonomy over my belongings like the whole-ass adult that I am.

Meanwhile, I have ADHD issues (among other things) that make this super difficult - I can’t keep track of anything, it’s never where I put it, I can’t even keep track of how much coffee I’m drinking because if I set down my coffee mug with a 3rd of a cup left in it and leave the room for a while, it will get dumped and set back down in a slightly different spot, and the whole situation is driving me literally insane. I’m beginning to feel like my whole reality is falling apart and I’m in some sort of nightmare, looking-glass wonderland.

And there’s this shame element, where I’m an adult living with my parents because I can’t afford a home of my own.

But I’m stuck here, because I can’t live in the camper while I work on it. Things are not good. I’m going to pick up some extra shifts for some more money, and push as hard as I can to complete the build out of the van, and I’m sure I’ll survive, but jfc, my mental health is circling the drain while I race to get out of here.

Anyway, thanks for letting me rant.

#Oh yeah and I had another hard hitting break up in between all that ffs #my life

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bigherosixfeels · 5 years

Note

Fanfic request: Karmiro first kiss

oohhh boi here we go

A Slippery Slope

Fandom: Big Hero 6: The Series

Rating: K

Characters: Hiro Hamada and Karmi

Word Count: 1,476

Summary: Hiro and Karmi share an unplanned kiss

These days, it wasn’t often Hiro walked out ofhis last class without feeling drained. Lectures and exams tended to tire himout and once he had his free time, he spent it either working on schoolprojects or fighting crime. His life was far from dull, but he’d grownaccustomed to this. He liked having something to do at all times.

Despite that, it felt nice to finish his schoolday off on a high note. Today was mostly a review day for an upcoming test.While it wasn’t any more exciting than taking notes, it didn’t exhaust Hiro toany extent. In fact, he was currently walking through the halls, whistling awayas he headed for his lab. In addition to a test he’d need to study for, he alsohad a project he wanted to get started on.

As he kept walking, he noticed someone walkingnext to him out of his peripheral vision. They showed no signs of walking aheador turning to go somewhere else. Curious, Hiro glanced over. He didn’t have anyguesses on who it was, but he surely didn’t expect it to be Karmi.

Karmi, who had been walking beside him for acouple minutes, was glaring right back at him. Her arms were crossed and herback was stiffened up straight. She couldn’t have looked more intimidating, butin only made Hiro confused. Why was she walking beside him? Why did she look soangry?

While it was tempting to simply ignore her, Hirodecided to stop walking. He turned to face Karmi who had stopped walking aswell. “Uh…hey, Karmi.” He waved.

The look on Karmi’s face had yet to fade away.She immediately responded to Hiro’s words by rolling her eyes. “You’re proud ofyourself, aren’t you?”

The robotics major raised an eyebrow. “Wh-what?”

“Don’t act all innocent with me. You know whatyou did.”

Hiro could actually feel his patience startingto fade away. All he was doing was minding his own business. Why Karmi felt theneed to approach him this way was beyond him. If she had a problem, she shouldjust say what it is. Yet, before he had the chance to ask, Karmi continuedtalking.

“I answer one question wrong and the second thathappened, you felt the need to correct me!”

Oh. That’s what this was about.

During their last class, their professor askedreview questions out loud. At one point, Karmi raised her hand to answer aquestion, only for it to be wrong. Knowing the correct answer, Hiro raised hishand. The answer was right and the professor went on to ask more questions.

For Hiro, it was that simple. All he did wasgive the right answer, not thinking much of it. However, Karmi seemed to betaking it extremely personal. The teen geniuses may have their differences, butin this case, Hiro felt no need to celebrate. It wouldn’t have mattered who gotthe answer wrong. He still would have raised his hand regardless.

“Are you actually mad about that?” hequestioned, finding this conversation to be completely ridiculous.

Karmi scoffed. “Yes! You saw an opportunity tomake me look bad and you took it!”

“I wasn’t doing anything!” Hiro sighed, tryinghis best to keep his cool. “Look. It wasn’t that bad. The question was what thesecond law of thermodynamics was and you accidentally said the third. It was amistake, that’s all.”

“But you still jumped in to correct me. Face it,you rarely ever raise your hand in class. The only reason you did today was tobe a gigantic show-off.”

Hiro wanted to smack himself in the face. Thiswas so pointless! Clearly, Karmi was disappointed in herself for getting theanswer wrong, but taking it out on him was getting aggravating. When was shegoing to learn that he never meant to take her place as being the youngestgenius at SFIT?

While he knew that this argument was completelyone-sided, Hiro had enough of it. He knew Karmi wasn’t going to be satisfiedunless he told her something that would make her leave.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Next time you accidentally saythe wrong answer, I won’t raise my hand to give the right one.”

With that, Hiro started to walk away. His moodhad unfortunately shifted since Karmi approached him, but he wasn’t going tolet that affect him from getting work done.

Still, the way he phrased what he said didn’tsit well with her and she was not going to let him have the last word. Karmimarched forward until she caught back up with Hiro.

“Bold of you to assume that I’ll ever answeranother question incor-”

Due to Karmi putting all her focus into beingmad towards Hiro, she wasn’t paying attention to any of her surroundings. Shehadn’t realized that halfway through her sentence, she had stomped right into aspot on the floor that had recently been mopped. She didn’t notice the wetfloor sign that she had walked past.

Whatever she was about to retort Hiro with wasnow replaced by a yelp. She could feel herself falling backwards and hadnothing to grab a hold of.

Except Hiro.

Desperate not to fall, she extended her arm out,clasping onto Hiro’s arm with all her strength. She expected to regain balanceon her feet and pull herself back up. Unfortunately for her, she was slippingat such a quick speed. Hiro was so caught off guard from being grabbed, that hecouldn’t react to it happening in time. Because of this, Hiro was now beingpulled down with her.

“Whoa!”

The fall happened so fast. Karmi fell, her backnow against the damp floor. For Hiro, Karmi broke his fall, but that didn’tmake it any less painful. Their teeth clattered as their faces collided. Whenthis motion happened, Hiro’s lips accidentally made contact with Karmi’s.

They had yet to realize this. All they knew wasthat between the aches and pains from the fall, there was a mutual spark. Apleasant surge of electricity dancing between their lips. A feeling that wasnearly strong enough to outweigh the strains from crashing to the floor. Bothof them now ignored what had happened, subconsciously melting into theunforeseen kiss.

The once tense moment turned blissful. Theirfrustrations now a thing of the past. What had them so irritated couldn’t cometo mind.

Karmi fluttered her eyes open. She wasn’t surewhat she expected to see, but nothing could have prepared her for what itactually was.

Hiro had fallen on her. He was kissingher! How was this happening?!

In an attempt to stop the kiss from going anylonger, Karmi grabbed Hiro by his arms and shoved him off to the side. Hiro,who still had yet to process that he and Karmi just kissed, was startled whenhe was pushed to the floor.

Thankfully, he landed on his side and on a spotof the floor that was dry. His mouth fell slightly agape as he looked around.What was going on?

He snapped out of his confusion when he watchedKarmi standing up. She smoothed out her clothes, huffing at how badly thissituation turned. Her cheeks were now a dark shade of pink and a deep frown hadformed across her face.

“Wh-why did you do that?!” She asked, visiblyunnerved. “Why did you kiss me?!”

All at once, everything hit Hiro. Him and Karmiwere just arguing. Karmi slipped and grabbed onto his arm. Hiro went down withher. Hiro fell onto her. Their lips crashed against each other.

They kissed.

Heat rushed from Hiro’s cheeks to the tips ofhis ears. So that’s why Karmi shoved him. But he didn’t mean for it to happen!If Karmi hadn’t grabbed him, he never would have fallen down with her!

“It was an accident!” Hiro yelled. “You think Iplanned on that?!”

“Yes!” Karmi brought a hand up to her mouth. Shetook this as an opportunity to wipe off her lips and rub her jaw. “That hurt!You’re lucky that I didn’t chip a tooth!”

Hiro now rubbed at his equally sore jaw. “Y-yeah, my teeth hurt too! You know,even if I wanted to kiss you, WHICH I DON’T, do you really think this is howI’d go about it?!”

“I-I don’t know! What is with you today? First,you make me look bad in class and then you kiss me?!” Karmi made a disgustedsounding noise. She turned to walk away. “Just stay away from me!”

Still flustered and processing everything, Karmistormed off. This time, she made sure to walk around any parts of the floorthat were still wet.

As for Hiro, he remained blushing, confused andtoo stunned to get up.

This was such a fun prompt! I actually have a few things to say regarding this fanfic sooo here we go.

Alright, first things first, idk if Hiro and Karmi are going to kiss in canon. And I don’t know how they would or should go about it if they do. I think it’d be nice if they kissed after forming a solid friendship. But for this fic, I felt like summarizing a friendship would have felt super rushed and out of place. So, this is a scenario that I think could suit them best as rivals.

Another thing, I’m sorry if Karmi comes off sounding really rude and acting ridiculous over a stupid thing. It’s meant to be a ‘her ego got mildly bruised’ situation if that makes sense??

I’d like to think after this, Hiro and Karmi have some time to think through it all and they eventually find the courage to talk it out (and hopefully become friends).

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for the request @mojo72400 :D

#fanfiction #also something i forgot to mention...i can't write kissing scenes for my life lol #hiro #hiro hamada #karmi #karmiro #big hero 6 fanfiction #bh6 fanfiction #big hero 6 fanfic #bh6 fanfic #big hero 6: the series #bh6: the series #big hero 6 #bh6 #mojo72400

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