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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 3 months

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CHAPTER 2: THE WEIRDO ON MAPLE STREET

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Tommy is an a**hole. Has anyone ever felt like Diana? Where you want to say so much but the words get caught in your throat? Being envious of people who are able to speak their minds so freely. There is a little moment with Jonathan. I can't wait to expand on Diana's relationship with him. Also, the power of persuasion is Nancy Wheeler.

Warnings: Mentions of violence. Bullying. Dustin's charm.

Word Count: 2760

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III

HAWKINS HIGH

“When alpha particles go through gold foil, they become…”

“Unoccupied space.” Nancy and I say.

Nancy, Barb and I walk down the hall doing some last-minute studying before Kaminsky’s test. I feel jittery and nervous even though I know I’m prepared for the test with the amount of studying I did last night. Barb flips through another one of my flash cards.

“A molecule that can—Hey!”

Out of nowhere, Steve snatches the stack out of her hand before she can finish. Tommy H and Carol are close by snickering at Steve who walks ahead of us shuffling through my cards, mixing up the colours.

“Hey!” Nancy calls, rushing after him.

Barb and I follow behind stopping beside Nancy and Steve in the middle of the main hallway. I frown at Tommy H sticking his finger in Barb’s ear. She rolls her shoulders to move his hand away while Carol laughs.

“I think you’ve studied enough, Nance.” He says, looking down at her with a smile. “I’m telling you, you know, you got this. Don’t worry.”

It is clear he went to her house last night to help her study. I watch him shove my flash cards in his back pocket and stick out my hand.

“Can I have my cards back, please?”

Steve glances down at me and pulls the stack from his pocket. He hands them to me, lips curling to a small smile.

“Sorry, I thought they were Nancy’s.”

“Thank you.” I say, taking them back.

I walk to Barb standing beside her, far away from Steve, Tommy H and Carol and begin to reorganize my flash cards.

“Now, on to more important matters,” Steve begins and I give him a look under my bangs which goes unnoticed as he smiles at Nancy. “My dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, cause, you know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy jokes. I wrinkle my nose at the comment. Steve ignores him staring at Nancy expectantly.

“So, are you in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents? Big house?” Carol says, her tone is laced with condescend.

“A party?”

“Ding, ding, ding!”

“It’s Tuesday,” I blurt out.

“It’s Tuesday,” Tommy mocks me. “Oh my God.” Carol and Tommy laugh at me. Steve smiles nudging him.

“Come on. It’ll be lowkey. It’ll just be us.” He emphasizes us to include Barb and I. “What do you say? Are you in or are you out?”

Never in a million years did I think Steve Harrington would invite us to his house much less for a party. I look at Barb. It’s obvious Steve only invited us because he knows Nancy will not go to his house alone. I stifle a groan at the thought of hanging out past school hours with Tommy H and Carol. I would much rather study for Kaminsky’s test again than do that.

“Oh, God. Look,” Carol says interrupting my thoughts.

I turn around and see from across the hall, Jonathan Byers pinning a piece of paper to the bulletin board. A missing persons photo. My stomach is in knots looking at the photo of Will smiling. I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since finding out about Will’s disappearance. I don’t know what to say or how to be there for him. I can’t begin to understand what Jonathan is going through right now. I’ve known Jonathan for nearly as long as Nancy and see him around at school. Our brothers were best friends but I barely talk to him.

“Oh, God, that’s depressing.” Steve mutters.

“Should we say something?” Nancy asks.

“I don’t think he speaks.” Carol replies, chewing obnoxiously on bubble gum. I want to take the piece of gum out of her mouth.

“How much you want to bet he killed him?” Tommy mumbles.

I flinch stepping back on my feet. Barb touches my shoulder looking down at me with concern. I close my eyes again counting down from five and take a deep breath, but I don’t feel any better. If anything, I feel worse. For Tommy to insinuate something so vile was a new low even for him.

“Ignore him, Diana. He’s just being a douchebag.” Barb mutters.

I stand rigid under Barb’s touch, squeezing my eyes together. My stomach clenches from the force of my restraint.

“What’s up with you, Princess?”

I open my eyes, turning my head to Tommy. There’s a playful glint in his eyes that reminds me of a predator stalking its prey. I clench my jaw finding his amusement appalling. He’s challenging me, knowing I won’t say how I really feel. I never do; no matter how many times he taunts and provokes me. I feel Barb drawing circles around my shoulder in efforts to keep me calm.

“Nothing.” I mutter under my breath.

Tommy grins, satisfied with my answer. I shake my head feeling disappointed in myself. His brother, my little brother’s best friend, is missing you insufferable asshole. The least you could be is compassionate. I want to shout at Tommy H, but again I stay silent. Why is it so hard to say how I feel? Why can’t I stand up for myself? I look at Nancy talking to Jonathan. Nancy is always brave and not afraid to take risks. She always speaks her mind and is unapologetic about it. I can’t hold eye contact for too long without wanting to disappear. I have been dancing at The Academy my whole life and I still struggle to make friends.

My chin trembles and I bite my lip to keep from crying. From the corner of my eye, I feel Steve watching me and it takes everything in me to not look at him. Thankfully, the bell rings and I blink several times to push down the tears threatening to fall.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

I lift my chin, forcing myself to smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Attention, faculty and students. At 8:00 pm, tonight, there will be an assembly on the football field in support of Will Byers and his family. All are encouraged to attend. Volunteer sign-ups for search parties are still available in the office.

I look over my shoulder at Jonathan. He lingers by the bulletin board staring at the picture of Will. Sensing someone is looking at him, he turns his head meeting my gaze. I bite my lip and wave at him. Jonathan lifts his hand in acknowledgement before walking out the front doors.

WHEELER RESIDENCE

I stare at the white ceiling with my knees bent to my chest. I extend my left leg outward, keeping my right knee bent and begin to draw circles with my knee. I breathe in and out deeply, relaxing my muscles in my hips to feel the stretch. Coming straight home after school is something I will never get used to. I don’t know how Nancy can stand it after having a specific routine all her life. Home. School. Dance. Repeat. I feel restless. By now, I would be finished barre with Madame Petrovna and ready for rehearsal. I close my eyes and switch my leg to repeat the stretch.

“Diana.”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking,” Nancy begins, her bed creaks and I can assume she’s moving closer. “…about the party tonight.”

“Oh, no.” I groan, opening my eyes.

Nancy is perched on her arms, peering down at me from her bed. She bites her lip.

“We should go.”

I release my leg sitting up on my elbows. My long hair unravels from its low bun. “No, no—”

“—You, me, and Barb!”

“Absolutely not.”

Nancy gives me a puppy dog look.

“Why not?”

I sit up, crossing my legs and unwrap my hair tie from my hair. “Because I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Nancy whines.

“Will is still missing and if he was abducted, the person who took him could still be out there.”

Nancy sits up, rolling her eyes. “Oh, c’mon.”

“I’m serious, Nance.” I say, combing my fingers through my hair. The fact that they still haven’t found Will scares me. “Besides, my parents won’t let me go to a party on a school night.”

“Just tell your parents you’re sleeping over tonight.”

“They’ll know I’m lying! I don’t have any clothes to wear.”

I stand up and walk to her floor-length mirror, observing how I look. It was colder today and I feel extra cozy in my oversized baby blue sweater and matching leggings. My white socks are frilly and soft against my feet. I pull the waist band higher on my torso before fixing my hair. Nancy pushes herself to the edge of her bed watching me.

“Please? I don’t want to go by myself.”

“I’ve never lied to my parents before.”

It’s true. I haven’t. I have a really good relationship with my parents and would never want to betray their trust. I’ve heard stories of other kids getting into bad arguments with their parents, some even got kicked out of their homes. The thought of talking back to my parents was just that. A thought. I can’t imagine doing it. Mom and Dad don’t argue. At least not in front of us. Barb says I’m a goody-two shoes, but I just don’t want to ever disappoint my parents.

“You won’t be lying because when we come back from the party, you can sleepover anyways.”

I give her a look through the mirror. I refuse to lie to my parents to go to Steve Harrington’s house. It was clear he only invited Barb and I because he knows Nancy won’t come without us which puts us in a compromising position.

“Do you have any ChapStick?” I ask, brushing my fingertips against my lips.

Nancy reaches over to her nightstand and opens her drawer. She stands up from her bed and hands me the ChapStick. I pull off the cap and apply some on my lips. Nancy watches me from the mirror with her hands crossed above her chest.

“What?” I say, eying her.

“If Barb comes, will you come then?”

“Sure,” I shrug, rubbing my lips together. I know Barb doesn’t want to go either.

“Fine. I’m calling her right now.”

Nancy sits on her bed with her blue phone on her lap. She quickly punches Barbs number and picks up the receiver. On the third ring, Barb picks up. I stand with my hands on my hips waiting.

“Barb!” Nancy exclaims, looking at me. “I’m trying to convince Diana to go to Steve’s party, but she’ll only go if you go.”

I hear Barbs muffled voice. Nancy deflates.

“Told you.” I mouth. Nancy sticks out her tongue.

“C’mon Barb, please?” Nancy begs. She waits for Barb to respond. “Because I don’t want to go by myself. You’re coming, okay? I want you both there with me.”

I turn back to the mirror to fix my hair again.

“Barb, it’s not rocket science. You just tell your parents you’re gonna stay at my place afterwards.” Nancy says. “No, tell them we’re…studying or actually,” she smiles. “There’s going to be an assembly tonight for Will, tell them you’re going! That’s a better excuse. They won’t be suspicious. Di and I are going to tell our parents about it.”

My jaw drops. This can’t be happening.

“Nancy! Diana! Dinner!” Mrs. Wheeler calls.

“Coming!” Nancy and I reply.

“I’ll see you in an hour, bye.”

I am speechless as Nancy puts down the phone. She grins at me, squealing in excitement.

“I really don’t want to go, Nance.” I whine.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” She says, walking to her door.

I highly doubt that. I follow behind Nancy feeling a little betrayed by Barb because now I have to lie to my parents to go to a party. As I enter the hallway, I hear Mike, Dustin and my brother quietly arguing in a circle about what? I don’t know. Upon seeing me, Mike perks up waving frantically.

“Hi, Diana!”

I wave cautiously. “Hi, Mike.”

Lucas spins around, eyes wide in alarm. “What are you doing here?”

“Well hello to you too,” I mumble, wrinkling my nose at his tone.

“I’m sorry. Hi!” he greets. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m hanging out with Nancy…” I squint at him and the boys. They seem weirder than usual. More antsy and fidgety. “What’s up with you guys?”

“Nothing!” Lucas responds quickly. “We’re fine. Just really hungry, right guys?”

Mike and Dustin nod their heads in unison. My frown deepens and I look back at Nancy who rolls her eyes.

“They’re so weird,” she mutters.

Mike and my brother run past us, except Dustin who lingers, with a gummy smile on his face.

“Hi, Diana,” he greets shyly.

“Hi, Dustin.” I smile.

“You look very pretty today.”

“Aw, thank you, Dustin. I like your hat.”

His cheeks turn pink. “Thank you.”

“Please stop hitting on my sister.” Lucas hisses, standing at the top of the stairs. He scowls at Dustin. If looks could kill…

“I’m not hitting on her. I’m complimenting her.”

“Please stop complimenting my sister.”

“I can’t.” Dustin says walking past Nancy and I. “I’m a gentleman.”

“You’re gross is what you are.”

Another day. Another quiet dinner. Mrs. Wheeler made meatloaf, with mashed potatoes and green beans for dinner. I sit across from Nancy beside Mr. Wheeler. He seems to be the only person at the table enjoying his dinner. I feel bad because Mrs. Wheeler always makes good food, but I can’t stop thinking about this stupid party and the fact that I need to call my parents. I smash a green bean with my fork watching green juice ooze out in between the grooves and peer around the table. Mike, Dustin and Lucas have been weird since I saw them upstairs. Usually, they were loud and obnoxious when they’re altogether. They’ve barely said more than three words to each other since dinner started.

“Something wrong with the meatloaf?” Mrs. Wheeler asks.

“Oh, no. I had two bologna sandwiches for lunch.” Dustin answers with a smile. It slowly fades. “I don’t know why.”

“Me too.” Lucas adds, smiling politely.

I squint. Lucas told me upstairs he and the boys were hungry. I glance around the table again at their long faces. Mike looks the most dejected. I sigh inwardly, feeling sorry for the boys. Maybe the disappearance of Will was beginning to weigh down on them.

“It’s delicious, Mommy.” Nancy says, though she has barely eaten as well.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

Nancy plays with her mashed potatoes. “So, there’s this special assembly thing tonight for Will at the school field. Barb’s driving.”

“Why am I just hearing about this?”

Here we go.

“I thought you knew.” Nancy says innocently.

Mrs. Wheeler shakes her head. “I told you; I don’t want you out after dark until Will is found.”

I give Nancy a pointed look. I would vocally agree with Mrs. Wheeler if I wasn’t sucked into Nancy’s plan. I still believe it’s not safe for anyone to be outside.

“I know.” Nancy agrees. “I know, but it’ll be super weird if I’m not there. I mean everyone’s going.”

Mrs. Wheeler turns her head. “Are you going, Diana?”

I quickly nod my head. “Yes, Mrs. Wheeler. My parents said I could.” I lie. I hate how easy it feels.

Mrs. Wheeler is quiet for a moment and I am waiting for her to burst out yelling at us for lying to her. Instead, she sighs shaking her head.

“Just be back by 10:00pm.”

Nancy smiles. The little food in my stomach turns to lead, but I force a smile on my face.

“Why don’t you take the boys, too?”

“No!” The boys shout.

“Mmm-mmm,” Lucas hums, shaking his head.

It’s the most life I’ve seen in them all dinner. Nancy and I look at each other and then the boys. My brow arches in suspicion and I watch Mike reach for his glass of milk.

Mrs. Wheeler’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Don’t you think you should be there? For Will?”

All of a sudden, Mike is blowing milk all over himself and Dustin is slamming his fists against the table. Lucas looks like he just saw a ghost. Holly is crying. Nancy is annoyed with Dustin for making Holly cry. Mrs. Wheeler looks taken aback but is too distracted by Holly to ask any questions. I’m trying to wrap my head around what happened and Mr. Wheeler is still in his own world enjoying his dinner.

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #dianasinclair #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #sinclair!reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x sinclair!reader #eddie munson x sinclair!reader

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terresdebrume · 5 months

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The old fashioned try

Fandom: Band of Brothers Rating: Teen & up Warning: None Pairing: Bill Guarnere/Babe Heffron Length: 2 260 words.

Summary: Bill and Babe have a regular Thursday night meetup. It's the highlight of Bill's week, except when Babe sits at the table with the stress levels of a deer being hunted for sports.

Note: The other day @gamebird prompted me to write about my favorite character being under tremendous amounts of stress. This isn't quite that, but it's still only here because of the prompt, so thanks for that :) Hopefully, I'll manage to clean it up and edit it enough to crosspost to AO3 before the 31st, but if not it'll be my first fic of 2024 I guess x) Also, this is part of the same modern AU as the story centered on Ruth Liebgott, but you don't really need to have read that to read this.

There’s something wrong with Babe. Bill clocks it before he even sets a crutch in the diner. His first clue? It’s seven pm on the dot, the exact hour they’ve agreed to meet, and not only is Babe right there, he’s got a mostly-empty beer bottle right in front of him. Which means he’s not just on time: he was early. Bill frowns. Babe has many, many qualities in life, but God knows punctuality is not on the fucking list. So what the hell brought him in so soon?

Frowning harder, Bill steps away from the window. He makes his way to the front of the diner, swearing when his right crutch catches on an old chewing gum, but he doesn’t let it distract him for more than a moment. He’s got to figure out what the hell is going on with Babe. He’s sitting at their usual table, at least, but he’s barely paying attention to Doris and her jokes. Bill shoulders the door open without paying it the slightest bit of attention: at the table, Babe’s knee is bouncing so hard it’s threatening to shake the table. Babe’s hair is a mess, too, like he’s been running his hands through it. His usual pale face has gone pasty white, and his finger taps at the tabletop like he’s trying to use morse code.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Bill maneuvers around some dicks hanging out between tables instead of sitting the fuck down, and feels his frown deepen when Babe fucking stands up as he notices him. Stands up—what the fuck is this, a business meal? Come the fuck on. Bill smiles anyway, because it’s Babe and their Thursday dinner is the fucking highlight of his week. Doesn’t mean he turns his eyes off. Or his brain for that matter. Babe’s palm is sweaty when he grips Bill’s hand. His hug jerky. Babe’s nervous, but what the fuck about is the question?

“How you doing?” Babe asks, a light frown hovering over his brow.

Bill answers, of course, and the conversation proceeds almost like it’s any other Thursday night…except Babe doesn’t fucking relax. He’s jittery and distracted, and the more Bill sees it the more tense he feels himself get in response. He can’t tell what it’s about, is the fucking thing. It’s not a new partner, for sure, or Babe would have spilled the beans already. Ditto: the return of the Doc. Babe and Gene parted on amicable terms last year, if Babe were back with the guy he wouldn’t need to be cautious about announcing it. So, Bill concludes as they discuss his and Babe’s weeks, this isn’t about Babe’s love life.

It’s not about family news, either. Bill had his Ma on the phone this morning, and his ma talks to Anne Heffron every Wednesday during book club. She’d have shared any important news. So, no sick Heffron, no sudden death, nothing like that. Besides, news like that would make Babe look sad, not like he’s about to vibrate off the goddamn couch! And yet the attitude just…persists. Babe jitters as he recounts a frankly uneventful week of essays and uninspiring classes. He taps his finger against the table, his glass, his plate, as he listens to Bill’s anecdotes from the VA. He runs his hands through his hair no less than four times—four times! —while they trade news about their group of friends.

It goes on past their opening beers, past the arrival and clearing of Babe’s red gravy pasta and Bill’s tomato pie, and past the moment Doris comes back to see if they want any dessert. And all the while Bill feels his heart speed up, feels the prickle of sweat under his armpits, the hair standing up at the back of his neck. It starts in a slow simmer, the heat of it rising, and rising, and rising steadily, until Bill snaps.

“Alright, spit it out, Babe.”

Babe’s eyes widen in doe-like surprise, and Bill would chuckle at the sight if he weren’t too busy panicking. It’s not good news, it’s not a death in the family, it’s probably not about Babe’s job—but’s enough to make him look like he’s preparing to be lined up against a wall or something, and not knowing the what’s what is giving Bill the worst fucking case of the jitters.

“Spit what out?” Babe retorts, looking even more caught out.

Bill kicks him under the table.

“What the fuck?” Babe hisses, switching from cornered to annoyed in less than a second. “What was that for?”

“Don’t give me that ‘spit what out’ bullshit,” Bill hisses right back, glaring into Babe’s eyes, “You’re shaking so much I could sit a gal on your leg and charge her for the joy ride, what the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing,” Babe says, and Bill kicks him again. “Ow! Fuck you!”

“Just fucking tell me what’s going on,” Bill demands, feeling his patience unravel at high speed. “You in trouble or something? Do I need to help you hide a body?”

“What? No!” Babe says, switching track again, from annoyance to clear indignation. “Of course you don’t need to help me hide a body! Jesus Christ!”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Bill knows he’s flailing as he asks, hears the faint lisp creeping back into his voice, and could maybe be embarrassed about it, but isn’t. This is freaking Babe, okay? They’ve known each other since they were in diapers! Bill was there for Babe’s first communion, for his first girlfriend, his first heartbreak. He let Babe crash in his bedroom after he came out to his parents and they didn’t take it so good, the two of them watching vines under Bill’s blanket while his Ma went and gave Anne Heffron a stern talking-to about acceptance. Hell, Bill was right there for all of Babe’s story with Gene Roe, from their meeting in college to their amicable break up last year.

What the fuck could Babe be afraid to tell him of all fucking people? Babe can be nervous around his parents, or his brothers, or anybody else all he wants, that shit just happens, but around Bill? Unless—

“Did I do something?” Bill asks after a bit, his frown coming back full force.

“No!” Babe replies immediately. “No, you didn’t do nothing! It’s me, I’m just.”

Babe cuts himself off, and if Bill still had two legs he’d be fucking standing on them because what the fuck else, then? If it’s not something he did or said or—what the fuck is it? But Bill doesn’t have two legs, and getting to your feet on crutches is too slow to look suitably dramatic. And even if he did want to go for it anyway, he wouldn’t have the time to do it because Babe comes to some kind of conclusion in his head: with an explosive sigh, he swipes a hand through his hair and says:

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Careful with that, I hear it’s dangerous,” Bill says automatically.

It makes Babe snort, which brings a smile to Bill’s face. It’s nice, making Babe laugh. Or smile. It’s the best part of spending time with the guy, really. Not that now is the greatest time to indulge in the pastime, but still. At least it makes the tension in Babe’s shoulders loosen.

“Speak for yourself, oldhead,” he says, yelping when Bill swats at him.

Doris comes by with their ice creams and a wink for Babe, which he receives with the perennial embarrassment of one who had a very obvious childhood crush that didn’t go unnoticed. Bill waits for Doris to leave before he makes a kissy face at Babe, which has the unexpected effect of making flush like he’s just spent a hot day at the beach without sunscreen. Normally, the only thing the joke does is make him roll his eyes, and Babe feels himself pout in confusion.

“I’ve been thinking,” Babe repeats, still flushed, his eyes down on the table.

Then he clears his throat and looks back up at Bill with his chin raised, like he’s expecting some kind of argument. Bill has no such thing planned unless Babe doesn’t fucking say what’s on his mind right the fuck now, and he’s about to say as much when Babe finally manages:

“I think we should date.”

What?

“What?”

“I think we should date,” Babe repeats.

Oh good. For a second there, Bill thought he’d heard wrong. Which, to be fair, he doesn’t think he can be blamed for: he didn’t exactly come here expecting his best friend to ask him out! Not that it’s. It’s not. Uh. Bill blinks.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” Babe says, his tone matter of fact despite the violent red of his ears.

That’s a compelling argument right there. A surprise, really, because Babe’s never really shown any leaning in that direction, but Bill is doing some mental math of his own and he’s not exactly finding any flaws with Babe’s reasoning on that one.

“Because I thought I was lying to my Ma when I told her I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone new, but now I don’t think I was.”

That’s…. Not to be mean to mama Heffron or anything! God knows she and her husband came a long way since Babe was sixteen and stressing out about being thrown out so bad he’d let Bill’s older siblings kick their ass in Overwatch. But the simple truth is that her main criterion for introducing anyone to her son is ‘are they a good Catholic’ which, really. Babe’s best friend is Bill. She should know better. So, yeah, it would have made sense for Babe to just say things to get her off his back.

The fact that he wasn’t—that he’s truly content with his life as is, with Bill as the main fixture of his social circle? Dating or not, that’s one hell of a flattering thing, really, and Bill feels his chest warm up from the inside out at the revelation. His mouth curves into a smile on its own accord. He’s not really interested in stopping it.

“And,” Babe adds after a beat, finger tapping away at the tabletop again, “because I think—I hope. I hope we can stay friends, even if it doesn’t work out.”

“Of course we will,” Bill retorts, indignation pushing out the warm affection from earlier. “The fuck kind of—I fucking told you, Babe. You and me, it’s for life, alright? We’ll still be shooting the shit in the nursing home, you’ll see.”

Babe grins, all traces of apprehension leaving his face, and Bill relaxes in response. ‘I hope we can stay friends’ what kind of fucking—of course they’ll stay friends. The only question left is whether they’ll be fucking married or happy exes by then! Sure, Bill didn’t exactly give it any thought before, but he is now. Giving it some thoughts. He’s giving it the thought that probably most things aren’t gonna change, really. They’ll still be thick as thieves and they’ll still be best friends, and depending on how this thing goes they’ll just add sex and living together and a dog in the mix. And frankly, out of the list, there’s two Bill would be okay to have with Babe even if they don’t make it romantically, so.

“Okay,” he says after a brief moment of silence.

This time, it’s Babe's turn to blink at him.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bill confirms, grinning in the sharp way that makes Babe chuckle all on its own sometimes. “You’ve convinced me.”

“How romantic,” Babe mocks, rolling his eyes.

He’s grinning back, though, and the flush has moved from his ears to his cheeks—it looks good on him. It’s always looked good on him, the blush and the fucking twinkles in his eyes, and the grin that’s been pulling Bill’s eyes to his mouth for months, really, now that he thinks about it. And he hasn’t thought about it before, not consciously, but as it turns out it’s one of those things Bill knew without knowing he knew them. Like when Babe came out to him all those years ago: Bill hadn’t known but he wasn’t surprised, just like Babe hadn’t known about him but hadn’t been surprised either.

Hell, even Babe’s fucking banter—it’s new but it isn’t. Because alongside the abrupt thrill of a new step, something beautiful and exciting beginning, there’s also the familiarity and the comfort of Babe, and everything they already share. And so it’s with the same challenging grin as ever that Bill retorts:

“You want romantic? How about I walk you back right now and we see how we feel about kissing goodbye?”

Babe doesn’t even pretend to consider it, just straight up rolls his eyes:

“Fine. But next time, I want flowers.”

And it’s funny ‘cause see, here they are: haven’t even made a proper date out of the evening yet, and they’re already planning the second one. But what the hell, it’s Babe: date or not, if he wants flowers he’ll get flowers. So they leave their half melted ice creams on the table along with enough money for the bill and a generous tip, and they walk the two and a half blocks to Babe’s parents’ place. Bill bitches about his crutches the entire time, and Babe tells him he should stop being a baby and get a goddamn knee scooter already, and when they get to their destination they do try out kissing goodbye.

They like it alright.

#Band of Brothers #Babe Heffron #Bill Guarnere #Babe Heffron x Bill Guarnere #Harnere #BOB Fic #No idea if there's already a different ship name for these two but if not #Let's start it I guess #Matt writes #s: limo driver joe

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pink-tonic · 2 months

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Do What You Have to Do🔪

All Chapters

Warnings: Bullying

Text labels:

Bold = Ayato

Blue text = Musume

This plan is working out better than I thought. The gossip is reaching every part of the school. It doesn't matter what clique you belong to, you're bound to hear the rumors that Ruto is stalking a few of the girls.

Musume is doing a great favor for me. Her popularity is not only spreading the gossip via mouth but also through pictures.

The pictures I took are useful since they give a reason for people to believe the rumors. These rumors are starting to take on a new life because of the incriminating pictures I took of Ruto.

I don't feel that I'm doing anything wrong here. I'm actually helping out the school since people are starting to see how weird Ruto actually is. All the girls are fearful that they might be his next victims, and the guys are disgusted that he would do something to three innocent girls.

It's all working great...

But I need Ruto to suffer more.

This isn't enough for me. Ruto needs to get out of the picture faster. I need to find Musume so she can do what she does best.

Right before school starts, I go around school trying to find Musume. During this time, she should be walking around the hallways aimlessly. She should also be by herself since her other friends do the same but in different areas of the school.

I eventually find her on the first floor, and I walk up to her.

"We need to talk."

"About what?" She asks me as she loudly chews her gum and taps away on her phone, not even sparing a glance at me.

"I need you to do more."

"Do more?" She asks again, but this time with an even more annoyed tone than what she usually has, "Haven't I done enough?"

"I want him gone. For good."

"Wow. You really have a grudge against this freak, don't you?"

"Just do what you usually do."

"Fine. But you gotta give me more cigs. Deal?"

"Deal."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It's lunchtime, and I decide to follow Musume to see if she goes through with what I want. During this time, she would go and bully Hourda, a quiet girl who recently transferred to our school shortly after our break. I follow Musume, and a smile starts to show up on my face once I recognize that she's going into Ruto's class.

When I walk into the class, I expect the rest of the bullies to be there too, but I only end up seeing Musume. I see her pull a black marker out of her bag and start to write on one of the desks. I can hear her laughing to herself as she continues to write.

Eventually, she stops and pulls out her phone and takes a picture of what she's done. She types away at her phone and then puts it away. I stand by wondering if anything will happen.

From down the hallway, I hear a bunch of giggles. The sound is familiar. It's the bullies.

I go to hide and take cover behind an abandoned desk that was set to be moved to storage. I lean against the school desk and try my best to hear what's going on.

I hear the door to the classroom slide open, and the giggles stop. Instead, I hear a soft gasp that sounds like it's coming from a guy. The door to the classroom shuts, and everything is silent.

It's as if nothing has happened.

I get up from my hiding place and stand up.

It's now all up to Musume to deal the final blow to Ruto's self-esteem and reputation.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After school ends, I go home to get my uniform and then I go to work. My shift goes by as usual. I greet customers with the best smile I can make, I serve them, make small talk, and do my best to look as handsome as possible.

It's really quite tiresome, but I make a good amount of money from it so I can't complain too much.

As I'm getting to the end of my shift, I hear my phone vibrate in my pocket. I make a mental note to check it after my shift is done, but it just keeps on vibrating.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I tell one of my coworkers as I rush towards where the bathrooms are.

I push up the door and go into one of the stalls. I lock the door and then pull out my phone. I turn on the screen and I'm met with my wallpaper of my Senpai. I would usually be happy to see her, but there are multiple messages blocking her photo.

Hey!!!

Are you going to answer?

Helloooooooo

Answer me damn it!!!!!

I did what you wanted me to do

What?

That's all you have to say???

OMG!!!

What did you do?

I did what you asked me to do!!!

Remember you wanted that little freak to be gone faster???

How did it go?

Thank God you remember!!!

I thought I would be texting a damn brick

But it went great for me, not so much for him

I'm sure he won't show up anymore

Good.

No thank you?

Whatever

But can I get my cigs now?

I thought that would be later?

No, I want them now

Fine, I brought some and have them.

Okay where are you?

At work.

You have a job???

I didn't think

Actually nvm

What's your location?

I'll send it.

You work there?

LOL!!!!!

Yes.

Whatever

I'm going

I shut off my phone and leave the stall and bathroom. I continue to go through my shift, and eventually, I'm done. Right when I finish, I feel a vibration coming from my phone.

It's Musume again. She's finally here and waiting out front. I don't bother to change, and I leave through the front of the restaurant.

When I open the door, I see Musume standing in front of the restaurant as she texts on her phone. When the bell to the door rings, she looks up from her phone. The moment she sees me, she tries her best to hold back a laugh.

"Sorry, you just look so ridiculous wearing that," she tells me with a giggle.

"Here," I tell her as I pull out four boxes of cigarettes from my bag.

"Thanks for the cigs," she says as she grabs them and puts them into her purse.

I'm about to walk off, but I decide to tell her one more thing. "Remember. Not a word about this to anyone," I tell her before walking off.

"Whatever."

#fanfic #yandere #yandere simulator #yansim #male reader #reader insert #x reader

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mayoanddelight · 2 years

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Everything's not Lost.

Spencer Reid x BAU GN!Reader

Summary: A navigation error makes it easier for Spencer to navigate who he truly may be.

W.C: 3.9k

C.W: Mentions of the Reader being an amputee as well as having a Pakistani ethnic background. Angst rolled in fluff. Self deprecating thoughts. Mentions of Spencer’s school life. Panic attack and Pranks as well as Over thinking(?)

Masterlist

This is for the one and only lovely Lynn's 600 writing challenge! Hope you enjoy it.. I wrote it haphazardly 💀 @lovely-lynn-writes

A few warnings though: Firstly I haven't written for a while (Ikzams) so..don't expect much ;-;. Secondly, this could be taken as a platonic relationship or a start to a romantic one. That's entirely upto how y'all want to interpret it. Lastly, I'm no expert with Panic Attacks, I followed whatever was on the Internet.

What's the difference between standing out or blending in? Both, by context, can be compared with the safety net it eludes. People mostly prefer to stand out then blend in, wanting a unique and distinctive attribute to let the world know who they are. Might it be their quirky sense of style or their rowdy persona, to attract attention. But in the end they lose the touch of reality in the pleasure of the people around them—to look through a glass and see a reflection of not what you see yourself as but of what others do. To live for those around you but never for yourself, drowning in the inevitable duty you took on regardless of the inescapable cost it carried.

Outside of the vast majority of the oddities perceived as confidence, Spencer always preferred to blend in, an ability that never seemed to grace itself to him. Dashing away from him in the form of eyes that could never forget and intellect that was greater than most, a curse that stuck by him like a chewed up gum that he stepped upon. Sticking by him until it formed into an identity, much to his displeasure. Standing out for his young age during high school and his unusually high IQ, regardless of how he tried to fit in. From mimicking (trying and failing) the actions of his peer group to drinking coffee, nothing ever worked. Rewarded with endless tears poured late at night under the cold laughs of the people he wanted to befriend. Yet all of it was unknown to his mother who was lost in a fragmented reality of constant paranoia, breaking the only recognition of who her son was. So he only welcomed the bittersweet yet unhealthy habit of coping through just a slurp of his now favorite drink to ease the permanent tragedy he called his life.

Though his cries for a source of normalcy in life was never granted, it was partially soothed by the people he considered to be his family. Though not fully accepted for who he was, they had seemed to love him for himself without any force of blood ties but because they chose to do so. But he was never fully happy with them, in the process of shielding himself from the pain his co-workers—his family—could’ve caused, he stifled the very means of being real to himself, much less to others. To become bearable to others, he forced himself into a cocoon revolving around small facts and never his feelings. Coating itself with another layer when his loved ones left him stranded in false hope.

But none of it mattered, his feelings didn’t matter. He learned that as a child, knowing his father would leave him, no amount of hugs or carefully crafted cards made him stay. Full acceptance is never acquired so he’d make do with what he had. Creating a routine of conscious and deliberate actions to make the handful of remaining people he loved stay. Not for him, but by the feeling of being wanted. At least by him. Going out of his way to help Derek to move when he had to go visit his mother. Or writing one-sided letters to Elle that always remained unanswered. It didn’t always prove to be fruitful since one way or another, people decide to leave. No matter how hard he’ll try. As if he was trying yo save them from the unsubs but they’d manage to become a victim from their long list.

So to say Spencer didn’t like change was an understatement. Change brings heartbreak and heartbreak brings unwanted emotions. All of it acting like a never ending harsh cycle. Change would mean that the efforts he fought tooth and nail for failed. By this time Spencer should’ve given up this fools dream of trying to control the reality around him, treading lightly but with calculated steps to not alter the reality he feels comfortable in. But change was unpreventable, just like when Gideon and Elle fell off the face of the earth. Replacing two amazing agents and friends with complete strangers way too quickly. However, this time, change didn’t come as a replacement but as an additional member to the team. In the form of an agent that always smelt like chocolates.

The day he met them was like any other, with him following his daily routine of getting up early in the morning to buying a coffee from the cafe near his work. He was looking forward to catch up on some paperwork, making his way to his desk, inhaling the scent of papers and coffee. Oddly enough he felt at home in his workplace. But he froze, frowning at a new scent that attacked his nose. It wasn’t distinct but it wasn’t subtle either. As if he was hypnotized he walked towards the origin of the unfamiliar, each step he took made his heart flutter and fall. Up until a laugh, a giggle maybe, caught his attention. That one innocent giggle made him feel so lost, all of a sudden. It was as if everything he was trying to prevent came true.

That giggle meant someone had left without saying goodbye. He slowly trodded towards the break room, wanting both to get over with this dreadful moment and to drag it on. Stopping at the threshold he saw Morgan smiling widely towards the stranger. The feeling of betrayal bubbled in Spencer’s stomach, how could Morgan be smiling as widely when they had lost another agent to the vicious current life threw at them. Just as he was about to walk away from the hateful scene in front of him, someone had already announced his presence.

“Is everything alright, Spence?” JJ. A wave of relief left him, at least she was still here. That left Prentiss and Hotch. Glancing at the blonde woman, who gave him a worried yet motherly look. Compared to all of the team, he was closest to her, which also meant she knew him the best. Noticing he caught the attention of pretty much everyone in his surrounding, including the new agent, his nervousness grew. Shifting to his other leg as he toyed with his bag’s strap he managed to squeaked out a quick ‘yes’. Looking down at his shoes, he flexed his toes until he could calm down the overflow of thoughts and social awkwardness.

“Jennifer Jareau, but call me JJ” Shaking one another’s hands, the new agent with the distinct smell of chocolates—he finally realized—introduced themselves. Their left hand was fidgeting with their pants, maybe they were nervous as well. Their posture emitted the aura of confidence, standing tall with their chin up but it’s the small things that open the Pandora’s box of feelings. Nervousness could be battled with or show itself with a constant jittering of a body part. Like flexing your hands or twirling your hair. He could relate, suppression of it is a hard fleet as well.

“And this is our resident genius Doctor Spencer Reid” Alarmed at his name being called out, his eyes widened as his gaze whipped from observing the new agent to Morgan. Giving them his signature shy wave and tight smile. Noticing his way of greeting, they parroted his greeting.

“Pleasure to meet you Doctor Reid" And before long Prentiss came along carrying a killer hangover and some black shades to prove it. It was clear that a handful of people knew of the new agent, further evident by the way Prentiss flopped onto the chair and put her head down on the desk.

"Prentiss-" Immediately after JJ tried to inform her of the arrival of the recent agent, she was cut off by a groan. Muttering something about it being too loud.

"And that's Emily Prentiss, our previous Rookie. The self proclaimed professional drinker" Prentiss pulled herself up only to glare at Morgan.

"Let me see you hold up a bottle of wine without getting a slight headache."

"Slight headache? Prentiss you're hungover!"

"I prefer it to be called Wine Flu" The playful banter would've (or interrogation) continued if only it wasn't for the alert pinging their phones. An alert signifying a case.

"Guess we have a case, Youngblood" Prentiss looked more alert than before. Might've been because of the upcoming case. "The sight isn't for the faint heart" She said leaning forward analysing them. Only stopping after JJ lightly smacked Prentiss on the back.

"Ow, JJ, I'm delicate!"

"Hotch will tho- Oh come on JJ!" This team was quite the group. The best mix of Chaotic and analytical, the best in town. They'll have fun here for sure, the new agent decided.

First impressions mattered. And his first impression of them had been completely wrong. The conserved yet confident person changed within weeks of the job. Might it be because they started to feel comfortable with the people they worked with or something else entirely. But the conserved manner had quickly switched into a more chaotic role. Case in point, Morgan and Coco (so they liked to be called) were amidst a prank war. No one knows how it started, all he knew it was a not so friendly prank battle.

The battle of Cocomo (their words, not his) had crossed many barriers. Forcing people—mainly Morgan and Coco—out of their comfort zones just as a collateral to the war. The first time it was Morgan's coffee cup that was sacrificed, the one Garcia bought for him, for which he retaliated with (because it was his baby girl's cup) was putting their stationery in Jello. Surprisingly, the thing they were most offended about was the lack of originality of that one.

"Morgan, we do not waste good jelly just to copy the office" Even though Coco and Spencer didn't talk much on one on basis, save for when they were solving cases, he couldn’t help but find them endearing. He didn’t know how, but they managed to break the impenetrable barrier to realism. Their wide smile and constant grin didn’t go unnoticed by him either. The feeling of envy grew, they managed to attain something Spencer himself was never able to.

Upon realizing the ugly feeling that grew against him, he shook the feeling off. In the moment of weakness he found a plate of cookies which looked enticing. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to steal a cookie while visiting a precinct that wasn't their own. But his love for dairy overpowered his self control he reached for a cookie. Chocolate Chip, he noticed. Just as he took a bite, he heard a loud screech

"NO!" He froze mid chew. Coco ran, stumbling through the way, their step uneven, but they managed to reach him, though huffing for breath.

"Don't-" Their hands went to their knees still trying to catch their breath. Wanting to ask about their health, he wanted to quickly chew and swallow the cookie. Wanted was the keyword. The phrase looks can be deceiving has never worked more in this situation. The Cookie tasted nothing like the way it looked. It was indescribable. He glanced everywhere, searching for a tissue or a trashcan. But there was none—what kind of precinct doesn't keep a trashcan or tissues handy?—so he had to swallow that devil incarnation called a cookie.

"I tried to warn you" The look Spencer gave them was filled with pure betrayal. At least they had the decency to give him a guilty smile, offering him some milk which he gratefully accepted.

"That was meant for Morgan-"

"I hope there was no poison in that" Coco's eyes widened as they shook their head in denial. Trying to explain what they did to make such a piece of baked item. But it must've just been their luck when they saw Morgan entering the room.

"You tried to poison me?" His lips twitching watching the murder of a failed prank. Walking towards the plate of cookies, he smirked. "Failed cookies? Didn't know you played dirty."

"May the chocolate chip in your cookies always turn out to be raisins"

“As long they wouldn’t poison me” If looks could kill, Morgan would be 6 feet under the ground.

“Who’s poisoning who?” Spencer bit his tongue to repress the temptation to correct the only mate he has for film festivals. A pale blush formed upon coco’s cheeks, a telltale sign of embarrassment.

“Coco poisoning Morgan” Spencer replied, now it was Coco’s turn to give him a look a betrayal. Checkmate. What can he say? She brings a playful side out of him, as surprising as it was.

“I did not!”

“Well if you ever want to hide a body, you know who to call” Prentiss walked off, winking at Coco. Deliberately ignoring the offended ‘Hey!’ from Morgan.

“Seems like I have an ally” They teased “What is it now? Two against one?” Morgan narrowed his eyes at them and opened his mouth to respond but of course Hotch arrived at the very moment. Studying each team member before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a huff.

“Suit up, we have an address.” Just as Hotch stormed out of the room, The chaotic duo, the two halves of ‘Cocomo’ glanced at each other. A mutual agreement was passed, this was to be continued.

With a game of rock, paper, scissors (officially the decision of Hotch) The team was paired up to drive to the scene. JJ with Hotch, Prentiss with Morgan which made Spencer team up with Coco. Nothing out of the ordinary, only it was them alone. In a Car. With the keys given to him, questionable, but he gladly accepted. It wasn't a common fleet for him to get the car keys. He smiled internally as he marched towards the car.

"I'll Drive, You Navigate."

"But-"

"The most you could do for nearly killing me" This really was getting old for Coco. And they knew it would never stop.

"But I'll navigate us off a cliff!" Continuing their protest. Their navigating skills weren't for the part. Believe them. They didn’t get a job as a profiler based on their geographical skills. Not to mention the incident of the lonely cow comes to mind, leading their friend Charles to a farm where they found a lonely cow, named Charles as well. At least they weren't the joke of the day back then. But of course, Spencer ignored them or simply walked away before they could protest any further.

"Charlie here we come" Muttering under their breath as they stormed after Spencer.

There was a certain calmness associated with the systematic movement of something. Watching the vibrant trees pass by at the speed of the other. That dream of tranquility can never be gained when one was driving. For which, against all the odds, Coco was thankful for. But the anxiety associated with following a GPS could never be dialed down. No amount of delirium could ever change that.

"Turn right on the next cut" A frown was plastered on their face as they caressed the cloth of their pants. The rough yet partially smooth texture always seemed to calm them down in intense situations like this one.

Other than Coco guiding Spencer with the directions, there was complete silence. Silence, to Spencer, was like an old friend. Since silence never had the power to hurt you and words—especially his mother's—were always sharp as a knife. Twisting deep into his heart just because of a shattered thought. However, for Coco it was the complete opposite, having grown into a large family, noise was pretty much all of their past. So they tried humming to drown out the silence but it barely worked. So when Spencer’s voice cut their humming, it was greatly appreciated.

"Why Coco?" His question wasn't the most surprising one, they could see that he had been sitting on this question for a while now. Just didn't have the guts to ask. Which seemed typical for his personality. Regardless, a wave of nostalgia succumbed them, reminiscing of what used to be.

"From where I come from there was this brand of biscuits of sorts called Cocomo which I ate a lot as a child." They paused, now that they thought about it. It wasn’t that grand but it was theirs "My Baba pretty much called me such ever since and it caught on from there"

Maybe for them it wasn't great but the way Spencer smiled it felt like it was the they had the entire world handed to them. It wasn't envy this time, no. It was curiosity, a curiosity to delve into the mind of what it seemed to him was uncharted territory of the impossible. So no, not envy to the life they might've lived, possibly with a father that actually stayed when things got hard rather than leaving a broken family shattered to pieces beyond repair, nor was it their open personality adaptable to changes in life. When all Spencer could do was feel lost, deep in the roots of the unknown, curled up into a ball with no one to aid him. No one but himself.

"I'm gonna go on a limb here and say that you named the prank battle Cocomo for the same reason?" Giving Spencer a quick glance they let out an amused snort, shaking their head when Spencer gave them a questioning look. Oh if he knew. Poor Doctor would start stuttering. As a chain reaction, their left hand touched their left thigh. Lightly gripping it then promptly removing it.

“Essentially yes, and it was a good mix for the both of our names” Their gaze met with Spencer, his eyes were wide, but not with humour but with an odd mix of emotions: embarrassed, fear and confusion. Coco knew that if Spencer had not been driving the car, this would be the moment he'd start to fidget with his bag. Upon realizing that he saw their unconscious movement, they knew what was to come.

"OhmygoshIamsosorry!" This wasn't just an apology of a man feeling guilty but of one who feels that the world was about to crash and burn just because of an unintentional phrase he used. Something assuming that'll break the natural of order of their surroundings. A man who would be at fault of the dark corruption that could occur. His self esteem—despite the countless degrees and diploma—was cracked, they realized. He didn’t see himself the way others saw him. Believing that he carried the weight of the world all because of his extraordinary capabilities. And no amount of them telling him it was alright made it better.

"Dr Reid! ..Spencer, stop the car!" Their words weren't harsh but firm. His hands were trembling, and his eyes glazed, he wasn't in the state of mind to safely drive a car, for his own safety much less theirs. Fortunately, with his mental state he was still able park the car with little hindrance.

It was as if he couldn't breath. No matter how many times he inhaled or exhaled, it was never enough. His throat was closing up as he tried to grasp onto the loop of reality. Tranquility. Calmness. He vividly remembered what his Mother used to do to calm him down from a Panic attack, going over the traditional exercises to humming Mozart through the aftershocks. But there was no calmness here. Just disappointment. Disappointment towards himself and his situation. What would she say if she looked at him now? Would she have dropped everything to run him through this excruciating attack? Or would she give him the disappointed glare he was so used to seeing?

"-at me!" He was drowning, drowning in his own mind. In the various what ifs life could present. He couldn’t hear them, just partially as if they were talking in water. Mentally berating himself to focus, focus on anything to distract him from the deep fall of the dark abyss of over thinking.

Tears escaped his eyes, running down his cheeks as if they too wanted to sprint away from the desperation of his mind. Struggling to open his eyes, he saw Coco. Their eyes filled with concern and their lips moving slowly. Always in a similar motion.

"What? I don-" His voice sounded so weak. If he had enough mental capacity he would've cringed but he was beyond exhausted and in desperate need of some peace in mind.

"Spencer, I need you to look at me." He listened, though it was hard but the exercises helped. Their voice dragging him out of his mind into the world where they belonged. Inhaling after working through the aftershocks of the dreaded fall, their signature chocolate scent greeted him. Unlike last time, it was a scent he welcomed rather than comparing it with the downfall of his family. They only pulled away when they could see Spencer was more in his senses even if he had some difficulties in talking.

"How do you do it?" The silence they had maintained to give Spencer some quiet was broken from his abrupt question. Though they didn't get the question.

"Do what?"

"Being yourself. The good and bad.. I'm not saying you're bad! You're not bad-" a slight touch on his elbow snapped him out of the hole he was about to dig himself in. "Being who you are and being pleased with it. Making it seem so easy." They raised their eyebrows, not expecting a deep question like that.

"It's as simple as making boundaries, from just a simple no when you can't do something, stop letting your negative thoughts to overpower to what's positive because believe me Spencer there are many things to love about you, your kind nature, altruism and creativity that knows no bounds. All to letting go. Let go of the past, or at least try to let it go, because the past is a deadly weapon that freezes the mind but not the body. And time does little to help you." Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. Taking out their handy water bottle and taking a sip of water. Their throat dried up from the whole speech.

Silence had seemed to be the both of their friend this trip. Because, once again, they two were silent, but for entirely different reasons than awkwardness. It was the time Spencer had to take to process the kind words spoken to him.

"I know it's all hard to accept but we'll take it a day at a time" Coco knew, that it wouldn’t be that easy to induce a better mindset upon Spencer. But they'll sure as hell try, even if it takes years to instill. They were here to stay, which Spencer understood. They would stay for the real Spencer Reid.

But as sweet this moment was it all had to crash and fade as a realization hit.

"Ummm Coco?" Humming in response, they smiled at him. Oh how bad he felt to be the one to make it fade. He looked through the windows left and right before he spoke.

"..I don't know? But I'm pretty sure I saw a farm somewhere near"

"Coco."

"Yes?"

"It was a residential area." Even in this moment of panic, Spencer couldn't find himself to worry since walking through Uncharted territory didn’t feel as dreadful at that moment.

The curled up little boy finally had someone to hold his hand through the harsh rain pelting at him. Someone who rejected the notion of perfection and carried him out of the tides of fire called his mind. It finally felt nice to feel accepted after being lost in an unknown place for so long to finally being adored through his imperfections. Maybe he could do this. A step at a time against the raging world with a little peace every step of the way.

Taglist (Comment or ask me to be added): -

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paperstorm · 1 year

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10 random lines

I am LATE but I was tagged by @cinnaluminum @reyesstrand and @rmd-writes

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line (or three), and share it! Then tag 10 people.

He tastes like mint. Must’ve chewed some gum or a Tic-Tac before coming over to ask TK to dance, and TK resolutely sets that information down and doesn’t pick it up again because if he has to think about there being intention in the way this man approached him, he might have to stop kissing him. Back to the habit after kicking it (911 Lone Star)

“Dude, I was born in Manhattan,” TK defends. “Lived there my whole life until three months ago. Nobody I grew up with knows how to drive, having a car on the island makes no sense unless you’re super rich or have some kind of kink for sitting in traffic for an hour to go 10 blocks.” Life's a game of inches (911 Lone Star)

Merlin seeks Arthur’s lips for a messy kiss, tilting his hips to change the angle and pushing Arthur inside just a bit deeper, rubbing, sending resplendent waves of pleasure through him. He wants so badly – aches, really – to be everything Arthur could ever need so Arthur never has to look anywhere else. Golden Hour (Merlin)

“I couldn’t remember every kiss, not 800 years of them, but I remember that one,” Joe continues, in a dreamy voice. He is more emotional than Nicky. Quicker to anger, and indignance, and ferociously protective of those he loves. His fire burns quick and hot, and when it melts into languid moments such as this, where he’s introspective and soft-hearted, it’s Nicky who aches to protect him. Nothing But a Song (The Old Guard)

Nile surprises them with her poker skills, in the evening when Joe breaks out a pack of cards and they sit around the table with an old radio on in the background. The nights were long and boring, sometimes, when she was stationed overseas, and she took a considerable amount of money off all her commanding officers in the months she was there. It’s that baby face, one of them had complained, you never think it’s lying to you until it is. Hands Battered but Hearts Survive (The Old Guard)

They struggle to pay the bills and sometimes they run out of hot water before both of them have had a chance to shower and they have to hide their love away to keep it safe from people who would want to hurt them if they knew, but despite all that, they’re happy. It aches and it aches and it aches in Bucky’s chest to think of how much he took it for granted, how many times he should have told Steve he loved him but didn’t, how likely it is that they’ll never have that again. Bucky’s not as simple as he’s been pretending. He doesn’t believe the advertisements, the campaigns that promise they’ll be gone six months and home as heroes by Christmas. That’s what they said last time, and millions never came home. Parallel Sinking Ships (MCU)

Steve sways a little on his feet as Bucky works, and Bucky sees the crash coming. Steve must have been running on sheer adrenaline since the end of their latest mission, perhaps spurred on by grief over the people he hadn’t been able to save this time and anger at himself for his perceived failings. He’d managed to get himself to Wakanda and to Bucky on nothing but leftover fumes, and they’re very quickly running out. Through the Monsoon (MCU)

“Do you want to know the moment I hated myself the most, in all this?” Nick asks. Pieces of himself, he figures. He knows better than anyone how tough it is to be so see-through. To know that despite all his best efforts, he’s utterly transparent. Maybe he can be transparent on purpose; maybe that will make Charlie feel safer in the notion of confessing. All Of These Moving Parts (Heartstopper)

Sitting here, holding TK’s arm in his hand, he feels like he can sense TK slipping away right here in front of him, filtering through his fingers like sand. No matter how he tries, Carlos can’t seem to grasp him tight enough to keep him. And maybe that’s always been the problem. Maybe he’s never known how to do that. Collateral damage (911 Lone Star)

“If we’re playing around, if we’re having fun and you want me to be a little rough that’s fine. I love that, too. Not when you’re this upset. I can’t …” He runs out of ways to explain the way that makes him feel, to imagine being rough with TK while he’s crying and using the mix of pleasure and pain to distract himself from his grief. Of him associating Carlos with hurt in a moment like this, of him believing he doesn’t deserve to be treated gently, maybe because someone died while TK was there and in the dark recesses of his mind he thinks he should be punished for that. Silent (911 Lone Star)

I'm not sure who's done this already but I will tag @musette22 @riricitaa @bubblesandroses8 @chaotictarlos @theghostofashton and @tailoredshirt

#tag meme #fancition #paperstorm writes #who me having written fic for like 15 different fandoms more likely than you'd think

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cakepopss · 2 years

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teen michael x reader

reader is gn, but is referred to as a girl in the last sentence

you found yourself on your last period of the day. friday afternoon and your last class was a free period! what more could you ask for? you were sitting in a free testing room, reading a book in one of the comfiest chairs in the room.

the test room was split into two rooms, when you enter it’s a sort of lounge, that’s where you’re seated. if you go through another door, you find an actual classroom. desks upon desks.

a couple of girls and teacher was in the room with you, no one was in the other room.

you’d conversate with the girls in the room every so often before burring your nose in your book once again. you find yourself getting lost in your book, not paying attention to your surroundings. it’s so easy to get lost in thought with books, almost as if you’re there with the main characters as you read. it’s fascinating, really.

without you knowing, the teacher slipped out of the room for a moment and in slipped your boyfriend!

ahh, your beloved boyfriend michael. the bad boy, the trouble maker, the bully. all of that meant nothing to you. no matter what people say about him, he’s completely different. sure, he is a bully, but behind closed doors? he’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. without the pressure of his friends or father, he’s completely different.

however, you? you’re an angel. straight a student, who is loved by all teachers and almost everyone at school. you’re able to socialize with anyone at anytime without making it awkward! you’re a dream, really.

michael stood in front of you, trying to get your attention. he tried clapping, saying your name, whistling, waving a hand in your face, and nothing worked! he decided to rip the book from your grasp, waving it in front of you as you looked up.

“hey babe.”

the words rolled of his tongue, making it sound like honey. you most likely would’ve smiled at him but he interrupted your reading. michael had his foxy mask on his face. you always found it dumb, and despite all your protests, he never leaves it home.

the couple girls in the room giggled behind michael, making you blush. “michael afton. give me back my book right now! i just got to the best part!” you demanded, standing up. “or what~? what do i get out of it~?” michael teased, bending down to your height. you blow hot air out of your nostrils angered. you tried to snatch the book back, only for mike to stand up tall and hold it just over your head. “haha. very funny mitchell.” you snap back. the amount of times that subs pronounce his name as mitchell or michelle is so funny.

michael raised an eyebrow. he took off his mask, letting it hang on the side of his head. he turned the book around, taking a look at your book. he smirked, realizing what it was.

“the outsiders? really?” mike teased, a hand in his pocket.

you blush, taking this opportunity to swipe the book back. “it’s for an english project.” you answered. technically it wasn’t a lie, but said project wasn’t announced until next month. “lies. we have english together.” michael responded.

you grumble, stuffing your book back into your bag before sitting down. you fixed your skirt by swiping your hands across it after sitting. michael took a seat next to you, manspreading. you crossed your left leg over your right and played with your hair, embarrassed. you felt heat rise to your face as you saw your boyfriends sitting position. the sweatpants he was wearing were not making it any easier.

michael yawned, stretching, and doing that basic arm-over-shoulder thing that guys do. with his arms draped over your shoulders, he pulled you closer. you could smell the bubble gum he was chewing in his breath you were so close.

just about as michael was to make another move, the teacher comes back in.

“hello afton.”

“hello todd.” michael responded, using the teachers first name.

“wait. afton? what are you doing here? don’t have class with mr. moe?” mr. matthews asked michael.

“yeah. but he let me go. said i should go take a walk because i was being ‘to aggressive’—“ michael did air quotes “— and i found myself here.”

“hm. really?” the teacher questioned. placing papers down on his desk.

michael shrugged, pulling you into his chest. “yup. anyway, my partner and i have somewhere to be. so i’ll just take them—“

“oh no you don’t. afton, just because your partner has a free period doesn’t mean you do too. so get back to mr. moe’s class and for fucks sake take that god awful mask off!” mr. matthew’s demanded.

michael grumbled, standing to his feat and dusting his sweatpants.

“come with me? i have gym right now.” michael asked, grabbing your hand that was once laid in your lap. you knew his schedule by heart, four of this six classes you had were with him. the fifth class was home ecc, you had it with one of mikes friends, the one who wears the freddy mask. the sixth class was free for you while michael had gym. “ugh, i hate gym.” you spoke, taking your hand out of his.

“i know you do. but please? i’ll buy you a snack after school.” michael offered, getting down on his knees. “it gets lonely without you.”

you smile at his statement. no matter who he’s around, he still cares for you. sure, there might be times where he yells at you. but that’s how his father treated him and his mother(after he apologizes over and over). what a lovely boyfriend you have. no matter how many times your friends and family tell you “he’s no good” or “he’s just like his dad”, you knew none of that was true. despite how much people say, he’s the opposite of his old man.

“alright. i’ll go. but only if the snack is ice cream!” you answered, standing up. michael did the same, his eyes never leaving yours. his beautiful blue eyes, how often you got lost in them. michael smiled, grabbing your bag and hanging it on his back.

“that’s my girl.”

sorry if it’s short! it’s my first time writing for michael so let me know what you think! and if you have any suggestions for another x reader of him let me know as well <3

part two here!

#fnaf #fnaf micheal #fnaf michael afton #i love michael so much i’d literally be his house wife #michael afton #aftussy #five nights at freddy's #x reader #michael afton x reader #gn reader #gender neutral insert #x reader insert #80s school #fnaf older brother #teen michael #teen michael afton

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

She’s Baby - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, fluff, crack

Summary: On a mission, Y/N gets hit with a quirk. Basically, she returns back to being a baby. And obviously, her boyfriend is left to take care of her.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: Y/N has the Cheshire quirk I mentioned in another post. The main thing you’ll need to know is that she can teleport and she can shape shift into any feline creature.

“......What am I looking at right now?”

Bakugou stared down at the small child being held by Kirishima. She oddly resembled his own girlfriend, with the same E/C eyes and H/C hair. Kirishima stood nervously as he let out a chuckle while sweat dripped down his face.

“Uhh..this is your girlfriend Bakugou. Some things happened on the job with Fat Gum and now Y/N’s a baby,” Kirishima explained. It took a second to process but once Bakugou finally got it, he started cackling. He bursted out laughing with tears streaming down his face. He went to pull out his phone and took a picture of your baby form, which was currently chewing on her foot through her pink onesie.

“Hehe, cute.” He whispered to himself as he looked at the photo.

“Ehem, anyways. Considering you’re in a relationship with Y/N, we decided to have you be her caretaker until she returns back to normal, which should be in just a few hours.” At his teacher’s words, Bakugou’s eyes popped.

“What?! Do I look like some damn babysitter to you?!” The blonde screamed.

“No, you look like her boyfriend. So man up and deal with her!” Kirishima said as he shoved you into your boyfriend’s arms and shut his dorm room door. Bakugou grunted and sighed before he looked down at baby you in his arms, he softly smiled down at your cute form that was cooing at him and reaching for his face.

“If our future kids look anything like you, they’re gonna be cute as fuck.” He said as he tickled your tummy.

—

After a few hours of having baby Y/N in his dorm room, Bakugou thought it’d be a good idea to get you both some food. A healthy meal made by the Japanese Gordon Ramsey himself should suffice.

Bakugou walked out of his room with you, not in his arms, but you standing on his shoulder, tugging on his blonde locks. Your baby form apparently loved high perches, which made sense due to your quirk being cat-related. As the two of you made it to the common rooms, the students of class 1-A took notice of the oh-so casual Bakugou that held a baby-you atop of his head.

“Uhh, Bakugou? You have a baby on your head.” Kaminari mentioned from the couch.

“I’m aware, Dunce Face.” Bakugou said as he entered the kitchen. “It’s just Y/N. She got hit with a quirk and now she’s like this.”

“Ohh, she’s so cute!” Mina said as she walked up to you two and took you away from Bakugou.

“Hey! Give her back!” Bakugou said as he reached for you. Mina moved back to dodge his attempt and succeeded.

“No! I wanna hold her! You’ve been with her all day!” Mina argued.

“Because Mr. Aizawa told me I had to take care of her!” Bakugou replied.

“Well if you don’t want to then I’ll happily do it!” Mina said.

“No! She’s my girlfriend so give her back!” Bakugou said, finally successfully getting a hold on you.

“She’s my best friend so let me have her!” Mina said as she jumped on Bakugou. Unfortunately, they both fell to the floor and landed next to each other on their backs. As he fell, you flew out of Bakugou’s grip and everybody looked to your falling baby form and gasped. “Oh no!”

Before you landed, your body teleported next to Bakugou. Your boyfriend looked at you in shock before grabbing onto you. “Shit! You scared me, Y/N.”

“Woah! She can still use her quirk?” Sero said as he walked to you three.

“I guess,” Bakugou replied.

“You guess?!” Mina said. “So she could’ve fallen and you weren’t gonna do a thing about it?!”

“It all happened so fast, okay?! And besides, I didn’t see your dumbass doing anything!” He argued as he held you against his chest.

“Because I was on the floor!” Mina argued.

“And that was your fucking fault!” The blonde said before he got up. He perched you on his hip as he grabbed ingredients to make a simple dish. He began cooking while still holding onto you and while some students offered to hold you so that he could focus on the meal, he only growled at everyone’s attempt to take you away from him. He refused to let anyone but him hold you after that almost falling fiasco.

—

Finally, it was time to feed you! Unfortunately everything Bakugou made wasn’t to your liking. Udon? No. Tamago Sushi? No. Curry? No. Oyakodon? Nope! Eventually he gave up and brought you to the supermarket so you could pick out some baby food. While you looked for food, your boyfriend couldn’t help but notice the stares he was getting.

‘These damn idiots must think I’m her daddy or something....well in a way I guess they’re right,’ the hormonal teen joked to himself ‘but I’m not no damn teen father!’ Bakugou went back to searching for something for you to eat and gagged as he looked at all the jars of mush.

‘Peas and Carrots. Spinach. Chicken and Rice. Gross. Who would feed a baby this shit?’ He thought. He held you in his arms as he watched you reach for a red-ish, pink paste in a jar. You smiled as you held it up to him while he read the label. “Dragonfruit and Chia Seeds..doesn’t sound half bad. Alright brat, let’s go,”

—

Back at the dorms, Bakugou set you in the common room couch. He would’ve put you in the kitchen, but there were no booster seats and that put you at a safety risk. The couch was the next best thing. Low to the ground, soft cushions, and you would have a carpeted fall if an instance were to happen.

While you got comfy on the couch, Bakugou took a seat infront of you on the coffee table. He pulled out the small jar of food along with a baby spoon and that’s when his group of friends walked in.

“Hey man! Whatchu’ doing with lil Y/N?” Kirishima asked as he hunched over the couch to allow you to play with his hands.

“Just feeding the brat,” Bakugou said as he opened the jar. “C’mon Teddy Bear, you gotta eat.”

Kaminari snickered at the pet name. “You’re still calling her ‘Teddy Bear?’”

“Yeah? She’s still my girlfriend dunce face!” The ash blonde said waving the spoon around. “She’s just, in a different body.”

“Yeah, a baby body,” Mina teased with a laugh. The Bakusquad (minus Bakugou) all laughed with her.

“Well at least I’m not calling her ‘babe’ or anything like that!” He reacted fiercely. “Whatever, Y/N, just eat the food.”

You looked at the spoonful of mush that your boyfriend was offering you and after staring at it for a hot minute, you smacked it out of your face. The scoop of food landed against the wall making a splat sound. The group of teens all looked at you in shock as you just laughed and clapped your hands together in excitement.

Bakugou was getting irked as he knew what was coming. But there’s no way, right? This kind of stuff only happened in TV. Right?

—

He was wrong. The jar was empty, but Y/N wasn’t full of any food. She had flung spoonfuls of dragonfruit on the walls, the ceiling, the floors, and the Bakusquad. You were the only thing in the room that was clean. The group of friends all stood covered in pinkish blotches as they circled you. They now all had a spoon that held the last bits of food. They were going to feed you. No matter what it took.

“Go!” Sero screamed and the friends all jumped into action. Kirishima dove in first but you teleported out of the way. He spilled his spoon as he hit the ground. When you reappeared, you looked to your left and saw Kaminari standing there. He smirked down at you with a crazed grin and when he tried to grab you, you transformed into a little kitten and knocked the spoon out of his hand, dropping its contents. You transformed back into your baby state and there, you met Sero. Not because he was standing there, but because the mad man was swinging with his tape trying to get to you. You once again teleported and he crashed into the wall, obviously getting the small amount of food on there as well. You stood on the kitchen island and Mina popped up behind you and got a hold on you. She successfully got the food into your mouth and smiled at the sight. She held you up in victory and the squad all cheered. Unfortunately, as Mina brought you closer to her face level, she looked at you and you spit the food right back into her face.

“Ah!” She screamed at the feeling of having baby mush in her eyes and dropped you. You teleported again and stood on the coffee table. There, Bakugou gently picked you up in his arms and cradled you. You fussed but he held the spoon in front of you and begged you to eat.

“Please Y/N. Just eat the damn mush.” He softly spoke. You looked up to your boyfriend who stared down at you with pleading eyes and you kindly took the spoon into your mouth, swallowing the food. The squad cheered again while Bakugou contently sighed in relief. He pecked your forehead before putting the spoon in the sink. “Hey Pinkie, mind giving Y/N a bath while I clean the place up?”

“Why me?” Mina asked, wiping her face.

“Because you’re both girls?” Bakugou said, looking at her as if she was dumb.

“So? You’re her boyfriend. Are we gonna act like you haven’t seen Y/N naked yet?” Mina said, smirking at the blushing blonde with a hand on her hip.

“S-Shut up! And this is different! I’m not looking at her bare baby body!” Bakugou complained while looking flustered with red cheeks.

“Fine, fine,” Mina said as she walked to Bakugou, taking you from him. You whined at the loss of touch from Bakugou and reached out for him with sad eyes and grabby hands. He smiled down at you and played with your baby hands.

“Relax you damn brat,” he said with a soft smile, “it’s just for a little bit. Okay?” He asked and you cooed at him, almost as if you were telling him you understood. He kissed your forehead before going off to clean the room while Mina walked away with you to give you a bath.

—

Mina returned with a clean baby in new clothes that she had Momo made. She gave you back to Katsuki who was waiting for you on the now clean couch. Once you were in Katsuki’s hold, you giggled and reached for his face. He smiled and leaned forward to allow you to squish his cheeks, just like how you would if you weren’t a baby.

“Yup, you’re definitely Y/N.” He chuckled before giving you another forehead kiss. The Bakusquad all sat with him again and watched their friend interact with the mini you. Kaminari was sitting next to Bakugou and kept trying to play with you, and you definitely enjoyed the electric blonde’s entertainment.

“Hewo there my baby waby~” Denki cooed in baby talk as he tickled your chin. “Our lil coco-moco-chucka-wucka-OW!” You bit his finger. The squad all laughed at the sight and even the bitten blonde chuckled before petting your baby head...in hesitation of course. Bakugou laughed before bouncing you in his arms to get more comfortable. He leaned back on the couch and you crawled up to his upper chest and got comfy. He held a hand below you to make sure you didn’t fall as he smiled in content. It was an adorable sight, truly.

“You know man, you’d make a pretty good dad.” His best friend said. Bakugou looked towards Kirishima with a weird face.

“Ugh, Shitty Hair, this is my girlfriend, not my daughter.” He said, rubbing your tiny back.

“Yeah we know, but the way you interact with her baby form, you’d make a great father!” Mina said. “And plus, we all see how Y/N is around children. Kids love her. You guys would be really good parents.”

The thought of you and him being parents put a blush on his face. You, him, a mini Y/N and a mini Katsuki. A dog with a big yard in the back of a big house once you guys are big shot pros. Sounds like a dream to Katsuki. He snapped out of his daydream once his friends all awed at him for blushing and smiling as it was obvious to what he was thinking.

“Shut up you idiots! We’re going to bed!” The ash blonde said before getting up and carrying you back to his room. He placed you down on the bed before turning around to get some sleeping clothes for himself. As his back was turned, a white glow went on behind him and when he turned back around, he saw you in your normal form, naked under his blankets.

“Uh, Suki? You mind?” You asked with a little giggle. He smiled at you before handing you a big tee and a pair of his compression shorts. You put that on and once again got comfy under the sheets. Bakugou got dressed for bed and joined you by jumping into the sheets.

He covered you in kisses and you giggled at his touch. “I missed you baby.”

Man did it feel good for Katsuki to call you that again and not have it be weird. “I wish I could say the same but it feels like I just saw you before I left for the job.”

“Well, you were with me the whole day. I guess that quirk just puts your brain on pause for a bit while you’re in baby form so it makes sense that the last thing you remember is the battle.” He said.

“I still can’t believe I was a baby. Bleh. Tell me about it!” You giggled. He laughed with you in his arms.

“Uh, I don’t fucking know. You were a cute kid.” He mentioned.

“Were? Baby, I’m still cute.” You said with sass and flipped your hair, he laughed at you again and kissed your cheek in agreement.

“Yeah, you are. But baby-you was really adorable. You almost fell but surprisingly your quirk still worked and you knew how to control it so you were safe.” He told you, but you pushed his chest away to look at his face.

“You almost dropped me?! Katsuki!” You yelled at your boyfriend.

“I know! I know! But, you didn’t fall!” He replied. You only huffed and sighed before having him continue,

“Anyways. Then I had to feed you but your picky ass wouldn’t take anything I made. Which is weird because you love my cooking. Mini you just wanted to be a pain in the ass.” He said ruffling your hair. “So I took you to the store and everyone there thought I was some teen fucking dad or some shit!”

“Wow Katsuki~ I didn’t know you had kids. Who’s the mom?” You teased.

“Shut up, dumbass.” He said with an eye roll, “besides, if I were to have a kid with anyone, it has to be you. I’m not putting a kid in anybody else. I refuse.”

That made you giggle and you felt the heat rush to your face. “Same here Katsuki. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

A comforting silence came over the two of you as you remained cuddled in his arms. A few minutes of silence and Katsuki finally asked his burning question. “Um...how would you feel..about growing up with me? And getting married. And-..I don’t know, kids?”

His breath got stuck in his throat as he waited for your answer. You looked up at him with a sweet face before giving him a loving smile and peck on the cheek. “I only want my future to be with you, Katsuki.”

He smiled again and kissed your lips. “Same here, Teddy Bear.”

A/N: Horrible ending but..whateva i guess :/

Taglist: @sxcker4you @aomi04

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thegingeralien · 3 years

Text

Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

#ADHD #Study tips #actually adhd #autistic #adhd #neurodivergent #adhd study tips #advice #adhdstudytips #studying with adhd #adhd advice #ask adhd #adhd mood #adhd life #adhd vibe #disability support #uni support #school advice

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babyybitchhh · 3 years

Text

Doflamingo x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 1,000

Warnings: cock warming, objectification, degradation, humiliation, a hint of puppy play if you really squint

A/N: no thoughts, just horny

♥♥♥♥

It was strange how everyone pretended not to notice you on the floor, going about their business as if this were a common, every day occurrence. Maybe it was. Given the sort of man Doflamingo is, it wouldn’t exactly come as a surprise. But you weren’t used to this - not the casual exhibitionism or the borderline painful stretch of your mouth, and you have to actively fight against the urge to pull off his cock while you choke and continue to drool copious amounts of spit all over it.

Instinctively, you wanted to recoil from him in disgust.

Logically, you knew he would make you regret that decision.

So you breathe through your nose, the sound ragged and wet as you try to adjust your jaw to better accommodate him and ease the strain. It does little in the way of good, though. Doflamingo was too big, the length of him thick and hefty - and the way it twitched every few minutes seemed purposely orchestrated just to taunt you. Nudging at the back of your throat to insidiously tickle and activate your gag reflex, making you heave around him as sheets of saliva pool down your chin onto the immaculately upholstered sofa he was sprawled on. So much a king in his castle.

You hadn’t thought he’d go out of his way to make this so hard for you, not when he’d first ordered you to warm his cock for him. You’d believed that, naively, that was truly all he wanted from you. Just a hot, wet maw to cradle him while he discussed business matters and frivolities with his family, offhandedly joking with them as if you weren’t knelt between the impossibly wide spread of his legs with your mouth wedged open.

The others were just as bad, acting as though you don’t even exist while they laugh it up and indulge their boss in whatever he asks of them. You were the same, in a way, but the stark difference between your position and theirs was undeniable. They were his friends, his equals. He saw them as actual people whereas you were clearly just a set of holes for him to use at his own leisure, whenever and however he saw fit.

You’d never felt quite so much like an inconsequential piece of furniture as you do now, snot bubbling out of your nose as you choke on the shame and humiliation that threatens to suffocate you almost as much as Doflamingo’s cock does. Back hunching, you retch and sputter around him; the tears you had valiantly kept at bay until now tracking hot streaks down your flushed skin while you gurgle embarrassingly loud, like you were going to be sick all over his lap.

It wasn’t your intention to make such an unsightly noise, the sound pulled straight up from the very depths of your twisting gut. You would have much preferred to suffer through this mortifying spectacle in relative peace. But the ugly quality of it still draws his attention, as you’d known it would, and you quake on the expensively tiled floor when he slowly glances down at you through the lense of dark sunglasses.

What an incomprehensibly frightening man he was.

“Something wrong, pet?” He drawls, all languid confidence and easy cruelty as his elbow moves to brace on the armrest of the couch. “Don’t tell me you bit off more than you could chew.”

The way he laughs at you makes your throat constrict and you gag again, struggling just to breathe. Doflamingo was completely bereft of sympathy, though, and his mouth pulls in an incredibly unkind sneer as he draws himself up from his reclined position so he can lean forward with a quiet hush of moving, dancing feathers.

Eyes widening, you rapidly try to blink away the hot sting of tears even as you whine and gum at him in a desperate bid to keep your mouth securely latched on his cock, where it belonged. You knew, innately, that he wouldn’t appreciate being denied the comfort of your tongue until he’d given the okay to spit him out - but that doesn’t stop Doflamingo from stooping over you like some sort of massive, hulking vulture laying claim to a fresh kill.

He was a large man by any estimation, particularly when standing at his full, towering height, but this is somehow even worse. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being a tiny, powerless little prey animal being swallowed up in his shadow as he reaches back to smooth his palm over the curve of your upturned ass before delivering a series of condescending smacks to it, just as one might do to an amicable dog sniffing at their feet. You whimper and squeal around the intrusion in your mouth, uselessly trying to angle your backside away from the sting of his broad hand, but there’s nowhere for you to go. Not unless you want to risk failing your duty as his personal cock warmer, that is.

Chuckling under his breath at the pitiful display, Doflamingo latches onto your ass and squeezes, giving the meat of it a possessive jostle for good measure. “What’s the matter, girl? Aren’t you having fun? Huh?”

You screw your eyes shut and give your head a faint nod, terrified of disappointing him, but that just makes him laugh even more. You weren’t fooling anyone. Not even yourself.

“Shall we check, then?”

His incredibly long, talon-like fingers shift further back, searching and curling until he finds the seat of your panties which he’d been kind enough not to relieve you of yet. Jolting at the contact, you go ramrod stiff as a powerful shudder rips down your spine with all the destructive force of a lightning strike, making you subconsciously arch and angle your cunt up at his seeking hand.

“That’s what I thought.” He practically growls, indelicately rubbing engorged, puffy lips through thin cotton until you keen and circle your hips for him. “Needy little thing.”

#donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #one piece #self insert bullshit #my writing

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castexpectopatronum · 3 years

Text

Liquid Amber - Part V [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]

Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.

notes: reupload because the original got deleated

trigger warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

Time stretched like a package of Droobles Best Chewing Gum. With every glance you took at the clock, its hand seemed to be creeping along even slower, taunting you, torturing you, until the constant ticking was the only thing echoing in your mind.

When the time to meet Remus had finally arrived, it seemed like a miracle to you. You already went to the now empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom thirty minutes early because you couldn’t stand the waiting any longer, but you found you weren’t any less nervous there than before. Your heart was thumping, your palms were sweating, the blood was rushing in your ears...

You were sitting on the teacher’s desk, the heels of your feet bumping steadily against the wood as you swung your legs to an unheard rhythm.

Ten to eight.

There was no need for Remus to be as overly punctual as you were.

Nine to eight.

There was still enough time.

Eight to eight.

Words were swirling around in your mind, but you failed spectacularly at putting them in a consistent order. Nothing made sense. Nothing had meaning.

Six to eight.

The heels of your feet were numb from colliding with the desk. You didn’t stop.

Five to eight.

Enough time...

Four to eight.

Was this really such a good idea? Maybe he would get angry. It was his own business, after all.

Three to eight.

No. You had to talk to him. Even if he didn’t want you to interfere in any way, he had the right to know that you knew.

Two to eight.

He was not running late. Not yet.

One to eight.

Not yet.

The clock stroke eight o’clock.

Remus wasn’t there.

At five past eight, you were still patiently waiting. At ten past eight your legs stopped swinging. At twenty past eight you turned your eyes away from the clock. And at half past eight you admitted to yourself that Remus wouldn’t be coming. That he had never planned on coming at all.

You weren’t surprised. In some way, you were actually almost thankful that he had freed you from having this conversation you had been so nervous about the entire day. But for the most part, you were simply disappointed. Yes, you had known better, but hoped for so much more. Hoped for him to at least listen to you. Just this once. This one time when you had so much to say.

You didn’t leave immediately. For a while, you just sat there on the desk, alone with your thoughts. The clock’s hand crept on, its ticking echoing in the dark classroom, wandering from half past eight to twenty to nine to ten to nine, and you were still sitting there in the dark classroom, still hoping for what you knew wouldn’t happen.

You knew it was time to leave. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to it. Not just yet...

It was almost nine when the door to the classroom suddenly creaked open and a figure stepped in, tall and slender. You lifted your head, not trusting your eyes on what they were seeing.

Remus seemed almost startled to see you there but still he smiled at you. It was a rather forced smile but it was a smile nonetheless. He could have yelled at you for all you cared – he had shown up and that was all that mattered.

Remus closed the door behind him. “I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he admitted and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers.

You gave him a weak smile from your place on the desk. “I’m somewhat surprised myself.”

“So...” Remus took a few steps into the room. “You wanted to talk?”

You nodded, so slightly it was almost impossible for him to see in the darkness. “I’m glad you came,” you said quietly.

Remus made an odd motion, a mixture of a shrug and a nod. “I figured I owe you at least that.”

You breathed a laugh. “For turning me down? I told you before, Remus. It’s okay.”

The corner of his mouth curled up in an awkward smile, and his eyes began to flicker around the room to avoid your gaze. You didn’t mind much. You knew he was listening.

“I knew there was something going on with you,” you began. “You seemed so troubled and you were sick so often... I knew something was off and I wanted to help you. But you wouldn’t tell me what was going on, so... I took matters into my own hand.”

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. An alarming look appeared in his eyes, the same look you had seen when you had visited him in the Hospital Wing. It seemed like ages ago.

“I did a lot of research,” you continued. “The amount of books I read... I don’t think anyone in this castle knows more about magical diseases than I do, so if you have questions, I’m your guy.”

Remus didn’t laugh. He stood, still as a statue, and stared at you with a look of pure horror in his eyes he didn’t even bother to hide.

You let out a quiet sigh. “I know, Remus.”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Remus-”

“No.”

He turned on his heel and was halfway through the classroom when you said, “Remus, please.”

To your surprise, he stopped, almost at the door, but he didn’t turn around. You heard his sharp breaths and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“How long have you known?”

“A few days,” you answered. “Maybe a week.”

His shoulders had dropped defeatedly. His head was lowered; he was staring at the ground. You wished you could have been able to see his face but he still had his back turned towards you.

“Is that why you’ve ordered me here?“ he suddenly asked in a hoarse voice. “To tell me you know what I am? To tell me I’m a monster?”

Your head snatched up; a deep frown appeared on your face and you jumped from the desk. Without delay you walked straight through the classroom, stepping around Remus so you were able to face him.

His gaze was still lowered to the floor; he was fixing the stone with his eyes, refusing to look at you.

But you looked at him.

“You’re not the monster, Remus,” you said firmly. “You’re the victim.”

Remus blinked and raised his head. For a moment, there was only the look of confusion on his face. “W-What?”

You smiled softly. “You heard me. Stop putting yourself down for something that isn’t your fault.”

Remus breathed a bitter laugh and looked away. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’ve done my research, Remus,“ you said. “The wolf is a part of you. But it’s not you.”

Remus’ entire body was shaking although he was wearing both his jumper and robes, and his chest was rising and falling heavily.

“I’ve ’ordered’ you here to tell you I know you’re a werewolf,” you continued, your voice remaining firm even when you saw Remus flinching at the word. “And to tell you it doesn’t change a thing.”

Remus’ eyes were fixed on your own. Your heart raced as you looked at him and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. But you knew he would just run off again like he always did.

“You... You don’t think I’m a-” He halted, forcing the words to come out of his mouth. “I’m a-”

“Monster?” You smiled bitterly. “No. No, I don’t.”

You hadn’t felt like lighting the room when you had entered, so there was not even candlelight to enlighten it. Remus’ face was hidden in the shadows; only because you were standing so close to each other could you make out his expression. His eyes were grazing over your face, a frown on his face. He looked like he didn’t know what to say. Or even think.

“I told you I wanted to help you,” you whispered and took a step closer. Remus gulped, but he didn’t turn away from you. “But I can only help you if you’ll let me.”

“You can’t help me,” he muttered.

“I refuse to accept that,” you said.

Remus breathed a laugh. “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?”

“You’re saying that as though it was something bad,” you replied with twinkling eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I suppose it depends on the person.”

„I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Remus chuckled. Then, his expression turned more solemn again. “Are you... Do you really...”

He found himself unable to finish the question, but he didn’t have to for you to understand.

“Yes, I do,” you said with a gentle smile. “Remember what I told you back in the Hospital Wing?” Remus cocked his head slightly to the side. “I told you whatever it was that you were going through, it could never change my opinion on you. And I was right, wasn’t I? I still feel the same way about you I did all those weeks ago.”

A smile had appeared on Remus’ face but when you spoke the last part of your sentence, he suddenly furrowed his eyebrows. “Feel?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realised your mistake. “Think,” you said quickly. “I meant ... think.”

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter, really...”

But suddenly, Remus had bent down and kissed you. It wasn’t more than a light touch of your lips, but it was enough to make your heart stop in your chest.

After only a moment, Remus pulled back, though, slowly, his mouth slightly agape. You stared at him with wide eyes as he straightened up again, seemingly startled by what he had just done.

“I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Remus-”

“I should’ve asked you first-”

“Remus!”

Remus fell silent. His chest was rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you. You still couldn’t see his face, but you were sure a blush was rising to his cheeks.

A smile spread out on your face as you slowly stepped forward, your hand lying on his chest, causing him to walk backwards until he stumbled against his desk and sat down.

For a moment, you simply took him in, biting your lip as you did and smiling to yourself. Remus’ brown hair was falling into his forehead and his soft eyes were gazing into your own, flickered from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Your smile widened as you slowly leaned it, your face inching towards his.

Remus still had the time to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He sat there and waited, his breath going faster each moment. He licked his lips nervously; your breath mingled with his, your heart thumped in your chest, your noses brushed...

And then, your lips touched.

It was soft, at first, light as a feather. Your lips carefully moved against each other, testing, exploring, only slowly daring to go further. You heart was doing cartwheels in your chest as your fingers moved up his thighs and his own, big hands snuck around your waist to pull you closer. You tilted your head slightly to the side, your lips moved faster, the kiss became deeper; Remus arms were now hugging your back, pressing you as close as possible while yours were tightly wrapped around his neck, one hand entangled in his soft, thick hair. You two were clinging to each other as though you were drowning, the kiss becoming deeper and more desperate with each moment.

Only when you were in need of air did you break this kiss. But you didn’t let go of each other. Breathing heavily, you stared into each other’s eyes and then leaned forwards to rest your foreheads against each other.

Suddenly, you breathed a laugh. “Wow.”

Remus chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.”

You grinned. “This conversation turned out better than I expected.”

A smile appeared on Remus’ face. “I must say I haven’t expected that either.”

“So... that thing that we do, that we don’t talk to each other... I take it that’s over now?” you asked, seemingly casual, but your stomach tightly knotted together.

A shadow flickered over Remus’ face.

Your fingers strocked his neck, kept him in place. “Let me help you, Remus. Please.”

But Remus let go of you. He loosened your grip around his neck and let out a deep breath as he lowered your hands, intertwining your fingers. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand.

“There’s only so much you can do,” he whispered against your fingers. “But if that’s truly what you want.”

“It is,” you breathed. “I care about you, Remus. A lot. And I want to help you.”

“Why?”

You lifted your gaze. Remus was looking at you with such vulnerability in his soft eyes that it took your breath away. “Because you’re a good person, Remus. And I really, really like you. Like, my-heart-stops-beating-every-time-you-walk-by-and-I-want-to-take-you-out-for-dinner-kind of like.”

Remus let out a shaky breath. He was silent for such a long time that you began to fear you had overstepped your boundaries. But then, he said “I’d also like to take you out for dinner.”

You laughed. Your knees turned weak with relief. “That sounds like a plan,” you whispered, a smile playing at your lips, and leaned in to kiss him once more; a kiss which Remus was more than happy to return.

Turned out Remus did like you, after all.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #marauders imagine #marauders era imagine #liquid amber #part v

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

The Good Doctor

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Summary: You're the doctor in Alexandria and Negan comes on a supply trip, taking something that doesn't belong to him

Warnings: depression, death, mentions of off self, gets a little triggering, I know I'm missing some, Negan is off character, nothing is exactly right in this, it's writing for writings sake

A/N: This is my first fic in years please forgive me for mistakes, it's just me in this operation, probably gonna be a whole series, here is part two!

May 20th

Negan's trucks roll into Alexandria again, loudly pushing past the gate and up to the medical center. Your insides start to rumble at the nervousness you have to see the ruthless man who knows no bounds. You reluctantly step outside and wait for him at your door, not doing well at hiding your displeasure of the loss of supplies.

When Negan and his men get out of their loading trucks, Negan shoots you his oh so dangerous smile before directing his men to their collections, keeping two of his men with him, he finally approaches you. "Well good fuckin' morning Dr. Y/L/N," he holds the door open for you, "after you, doll."

You moved past him, smiling at him, and walked to the stockpile of medication you had collected yourself helping Daryl on runs. "Please, only take what you are owed." Negan's men glared at you viciously, "We will take whatever we damn well please." Negan turned to face his men, "Now, we have a peaceful agreement here with the nice fuckin' doctor, get the supplies n lets go." You smiled at him, "Thank you for keeping your end of the bargain." Negan nodded, "I may be a fuckin' prick, but I am a man of my fuckin' word, ain't that all that fuckin' matters nowadays?" You nodded, waiting in silence for the men to complete their tasks.

After the men went through the supplies that laid before them, they pulled Negan to the side, obviously keeping their conversation private, one of them turning to you and flashing you a gut wrenching smile, you leaned on the gurney, waiting for the problem. Negan turned to you, scratching his chin, laughing lightly, "See doc, my men seem to really think that you've tried to short us this week," your eyes went wide, remembering what happened to the last person that tried to short Negan and his group, "I know you wouldn't fuckin' do that so can you just clear this shit up for us."

Scanning over the pages in front of you, "No," you cleared your throat, "I'm not short, its all documented here," you handed Negan the clipboard. As he scans over it, looking at your logs for every pill that comes in and out of this faux medical center, every date and name, the two men he placed with him rips your bag from your shoulders, dumping it out on the table, displaying the contents. Negan glances up, taking in the items on the table; a knife, a ripped up pack of spearmint bubble gum, a few pens, a small first aid kit, a few hair ties, stray items and a small leather bound notebook.

Negan slams the clipboard down, smiling at you, "I'll be damned she's fuckin' right boys, pack it up, it's all in the goddamned charts." You let out a breath of relief, a little worried to be Negan's next lesson. One of the men came close to you, pushing you backwards toward the gurney, "Don't test me bitch," backing away while still staring at you, he picked up your knife and waved it at you, "mine now, doll." The nickname reverberated evil inside you, at least when Negan did it, it felt at least flattering, but this man dripped poison from his words. At that though, Negan perked up, "Come on, shithead we've got things to do." You panicked, "No!" They all turned to you, "You cannot have my fucking knife," you backed up a little when the man stared you down, "please, it means a lot to me." The man started to say something, obviously furious you would even try ordering him, but Negan stopped him, taking the knife and handing it to you. The man he took the knife from grumbled and picked up your pack of gum, "Fuck you, keep your knife bitch, I'll take something sweet." Flashing you his smile, Negan was gone.

As you watched his trucks leave Alexandria, you finally returned to your work, cleaning up the mess his hooligans had made. Straightening the bottles, subtracting inventory, picking up your bag and sighing at the small amount of happiness you had as you realized that was the last pack of gum that you could find in a 50 mile radius. As you were putting away everything on the table, you started to move frantically looking for your notebook, under the table, around the table, even been looking all over the room. You couldn't find it. Your coping mechanism for the world moving at a pace that you just couldn't handle. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized, Negan.

He just couldn't help himself, just has to know what makes the good doctor fuckin' tick. Now, he just happens to have an all access pass to your thoughts in the zombie apocalypse. Humming to himself and relaxing into his seat, he peeled the book back at the marker for your most recent entry, picked a random nearby page and began reading.

April 23rd

celebrating yet another round of people. at some point I hit my limit, just can't keep meeting and greeting. feels pointless, I never see half of them, and when I do they normally die in my clinic. is this what it's become? death after death? mercy after mercy?

April 30th

every time someone dies in my clinic and I slide a knife through their skull it just reminds me this is how it will end for us all. we'll all just be the walking dead in the end. when's my turn? when do I get to finally stop running this rat race and throw in my damn towel? everyone else gets to say goodbye seems fair

Goddamn, Negan thought to himself, there's an entry here for every fuckin' day. He readjusted, taking in where they were at and how long he had to read for now, planning to figure out how you worked. No shame in wanting the pretty doctor.

May 4th

so fucking stupid, absolutely incompetent, couldn't even find antibiotics. couldn't find any gauze or even disinfectant. what a waste of gas, we're beginning to pick clean every building, car and trash can in a 50 mile radius. how long do we have left with the saviors breathing down our neck

May 12th

found some supplies, couldn't find enough, not enough, people treat the medicine like it's never ending but I just can't keep up there's nothing left, there has to be something that I can do, has to be something out there for me to find, it can't just be all gone, I'm not thinking of something, there is something out there I just have to be fucking smart enough to find it

May 15th

risk is worth the reward, I finally found some more antibiotics, and hit the fucking jackpot, found some chewing gum, melted Twix for Judith, and a knife for henry after I lost his in that horde, indescribable emotion when I had that first piece of gum that reminded me of how it used to be, when I was surrounded by support and family, gotta make it last

May 16th

henry was carried in by rick and daryl. henry was conscious, talking, don't let me turn, he begged. rick said he fell from a third story window. daryl grabbed alcohol and gauze, rick grabbed the stitch kit while I cut open henrys shirt, glass, at least two dozen pieces, please be manageable. I grabbed the tweezers and pour alcohol on henry's chest, his screams. half an hour in, he's seizing, rick grab buccal midazolam, place it in his mouth, hold him still until it stops, wait for a beat, no beat, cpr, one hundred twenty seconds in, can't let him turn, wait for beat, no beat, knife.

had to be something more.

Negan shifted uncomfortably, this went on for at least ten pages, questioning every move you made, reliving putting down a good friend of yours, is this how you mourn?

May 17th

This is it. surrounded by death, my turn.

Fuckin' christ, Negan thought, now realizing that the good doctor is too fuckin' hard on herself. Realizing that you had your own horrible demons, and that this world is starting to get to you.

May 19th

Guess not.

Negan felt horrible for taking this, he felt like he had taken a piece of you, just trying to figure out which buttons to press to make you want him like everyone else, he definitely didn't expect this. He had to give it back, had to find a way to make it better, and he just might have a plan.

May 21st

You woke up feeling empty, just going through the motions, getting dressed, brushing out your hair, brush your teeth, quarter of a piece of gum- no. Walk to the clinic, not hungry today. You sat in your chair, clipboard on lap, staring at the door, waiting for your next victim to come through. After about two hours, you hear a few bikes pull into the gate and getting closer. Taking a peak out the window, you see Negan at your clinic doors with a relatively large backpack on, and the same two men he had with him yesterday, and an extra woman who you had never seen before.

Negan walked into your clinic, the woman standing at the door but not stepping in, and you couldn't do anything but get your knife out. "What the fuck are you doing back here?" You pointed the knife at him, not going to let him take anymore of your hard earned supplies. "You raided yesterday and stole from me! The kind of nerve a selfish prick like you-" Negan pulled out your book and an unopened pack of spearmint gum. You lowered your knife, looking at him like a confused puppy, and then jerked the book out of his hand, leaving the gum. "It's a fuckin' peace offering, doll," Negan held out the gum, but you didn't take it, just stared at him. "I don't want it, you don't get to take all of our lessening supplies and steal from me after I've been nothing but honest trying to keep our deal for no violence and then just come offering a pack of gum your henchmen stole from me! I worked for that! I worked for all of this! I was good to your men! I was good to you, Negan!" You started tearing up and turned away from him, mindlessly putting your journal back in your bag, sighing in great relief that it was returned to you.

"Doll, I didn't fuckin' mean to upset you, I didn't fuckin' know what it was-" Negan stepped closer, setting the bag he carried on your table, "it's not the only peace offering, I've got two more." He sat the gum next to the pack and took your place in the chair, spinning around. You emptied the pack, meds, gauze, a Twix bar, and a few cases of extra supplies. You immediately turned to him, eyebrows raised, "What's the fucking catch? Nobody gets anything from you without a catch." Negan smiled, scratching through his beard, that trouble causing smile, "You gotta come back with me." You scoffed, gawked at that. "Are you serious? You want me to come back with you, with the saviors? Why? That's not even possible, I-I'm needed here, I'm the only one whose been studying the medical books, only one that can tell their ass from their end, that's just stupid-" Negan stands and points to the woman at your door. "Cue the next fuckin' offering, Amelia. She knows what she's fuckin' doing, she's a good one and fuckin' despises my fine ass, so I know that your fuckin' people are in good hands. You only gotta come for a week, just a fuckin' week."

You sighed, not sure what to do, but only had seconds to figure it out, "Okay," you moved closer to him, "on two conditions." Negan smiled, turned on by your big balls of courage to demand something from the man who mercilessly beat the shit out of people with a barbed wire bat. "I have today to train her on how to keep things in order while I'm gone, and next week, you leave Alexandria alone, and no taking extra in two weeks, we get to keep our extra supplies for next week." Negan scoffed, unbelievable that you'd demand that, he's gotta run his own group, "Are you fuckin' joking sweetheart?" You laughed, packing up the supplies and giving the bag of supplies back to him, "No, I am not," you pulled back and crossed your arms, "so how bad do you want me, Negan?"

#the walking dead fanfiction #twd fandom #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #negan x reader #negan x you #rick x you #rick x reader #twd negan #negan fic #negan x y/n #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #negan fluff #negan angst #tw fanfic #tw fanfiction

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clarawatson · 3 years

Text

It Only Takes A Taste (3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: Jack comes for dinner, I guess. W/C: 2345 Warnings: none yet! A/N: this one got a little long, oopsies. AO3 Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

The bed had been so warm and comfortable you hadn't wanted to get out, but the thought of seeing Aaron again made your heart grow three sizes. You'd been texting back and forth for the last couple of days, just small awkward stuff. He likes to text emojis. He's precious. Of course he's precious.

He comes in as you're serving your first customer of the night—a sobbing thirty-year-old man who can't even order his pie without spluttering in tears. Is it favouritism to get excited by Aaron turning up? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes.

"Hello," you smile. There's a hundred things you could have called him, but he's too cute and your brain doesn't want to work.

"Hi," he grins back. "Can I have a coffee, please. Here."

"Yes you can." Aaron splits his bill between the counter and the tip jar. "How was your day, Aaron?"

"Boring paperwork. Couldn't concentrate."

Concern furrows your eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No! I kept thinking about seeing you." There's that sunshine smile again. You might even match it yourself. He points to the cake that's still in the display tin. He's in earlier in the night than usual, so there's a lot more range to choose from. "Is that carrot cake?"

"Sure is. Do you want some?"

"Please."

You serve him a slice and let the coffee machine splutter and fight with you. He stabs his cake with his fork and looks like he has an out of body experience the moment the cream cheese icing hits his tongue. That's a face you want to see again under different circumstances.

"Joe?"

"Me! And Joe's recipe. I sort of mixed it together and prayed."

"Then mark me a religious man." Aaron smiles. You can't held but smile back at him.

"It's a bit early for you to be in," you say. It's not an issue, just means you got the earlier shift. Finishing at 1am instead of 7am. Plus, Aaron looks nice in the daytime. Very nice. The afternoon light suits him.

"Didn't have a case," he shrugs.

You've googled him since getting his business card. “Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, Section Chief of the BAU”. The fuck did that even mean? BAU was the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which was still mainly a mystery, but you think it’s maybe just an over-glorified way of saying ‘they look inside people’s heads and hope for the best’. He’s got a handful of news reports that you’ve practically memorised.

Okay, that’s a little obsessive. Don’t admit that to him.

He wasn’t the ‘untouched by darkness’ that you’d thought of him before, his work face held all the darkness his smile did not. You hoped you never had to see the serious man who stood before the cameras.

“How’s Rita?” Aaron asks. He’s cut the top off his carrot cake, saving it for later. He looks at it longingly every now and then, then he scoops just a little bit of the cream cheese and lets it rest on his tongue.

“She’s good. Restless. She’s happy for the due date to arrive.” She’d also asked you to be the baby’s godparent. Rather forcefully, actually, it had felt a bit strange. That was the only reason you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. You’d do anything for Rita, but saying yes in that instant would had felt strange. Almost… wrong, maybe.

Aaron knows you’re thinking about it. He puts his fork down and shifts in his chair, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t fill the silence between the two of you. You think about telling him, but then Lola’s bustling through the door and grabbing her apron.

“Hot stuff, when can I go for a smoke break?” is the first thing Lola says to you. She pulls chewing gum out of her mouth (yes, pulls. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and pulls it out as far as it will go without snapping) and Aaron moves his cake around his plate a bit. Does he not like it? Don’t be silly, he asked for it. Requested it. Whatever. You put his three cookies into a plastic bag and slide it across the counter to him.

“Lola you only just came in.”

“But I want to know,” she whines like she’s a teenager with an after school job, not a thirty-five-year-old woman who works at the diner full time. “Hey, Rita’s been acting weird, right? Is that a pregnancy thing, or?” Lola rubbed her nose on the back of her wrist and sniffs. An action you’re all too familiar with by now, and of course she was doing illegal substances in the bathroom before she started her shift when there’s a legitimate federal agent in the diner.

“Oh,” Lola says as she looks at Aaron. She looks at you, raises her eyebrows, and nods like she’s impressed. “I take back telling Rita she was a liar." Even without knowing the context of Rita and Lola's conversation, you know Rita had told Lola how pretty/handsome/gorgeous Aaron is. "I’m going to go clean some tables.”

She grabs the cleaning supplies and heads out into the dining area. The door swings open, banging against one of the booths, and you’re immensely glad Lola doesn’t scream 'watch it’ at them. A curly haired blonde woman (gorgeous, mind you) touches Aaron’s shoulder and he sits up straight, smiling, and your heart plummets a little bit. Just the tiniest amount.

“Jack insisted we switch over here before I go to parent/teacher interviews.” As if on queue, a well mannered, sandy-haired boy sits next to Aaron and grins too much like Aaron. Aaron’s son. You can put two and two together. Profiler or not.

“How was school?” Aaron asks. Jack shrugs.

“It was school.” He learnt that from his dad, there’s no question.

“Well, in that case. Jack, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Jack.” Jack extends a hand to shake in greeting and looks really shy about it. You shake it quickly so he doesn’t feel like a kid who’s been roped into doing adult things. There’s a pile of colouring-in pages Joe’s printed off at the local library beneath a cup of crayons that Jack’s eyeing off.

You grab a sheet and a crayon, raising an eyebrow in invitation as you turn around to Jack.

“Yes please,” he says, grin growing across his face. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Wonderful manners.” Jack grins even bigger and you think he, too, might combust just like his dad. Stardust! That’s the movie you were thinking of. When Yvaine sees Tristan she shines, literally, the star inside of her just can’t be contained. That’s Aaron and Jack, and the way they look when they smile.

Aaron’s sister-in-law looks at you with a cocked head, like a curious cat. Like she’s waiting to pounce. But… curiously pounce. Like she's sussing you out. She extends a hand in greeting.

“Jess. Aaron’s talked about you.”

There’s no response but to look sheepish. This seems to greatly please Jess, who smiles softly and rubs the back of Aaron’s head affectionately. They have a long history together, it’s too familial to be just a relationship born through marriage.

“I’ll see you later then, Rockstar,” Jess says.

“Bye,” Aaron and Jack say together. Aaron rests his cheek on his hand, watching you as Lola hands you three orders she’s taken while you’ve been talking to Aaron. Jack leans over and whispers to Aaron about his homework (it’s a whisper that belongs on a stage) as you wrestle with the coffee machine.

It’s been grinding it’s way down to not working for a while now. Ever since you met Aaron, actually. Joe’s said he’s going to fix it, or get a new one, but everyone’s in a state of non-commital until Rita has her baby.You’ve got no idea why, it’s just the way things are. Good luck, maybe? Or luck in general?

Somehow you get Aaron talking about Shakespeare. It might have been Jack’s doing, to be completely honest, but one moment you’re trying to make the froth… well, froth… and the next you're listening to Aaron talk animatedly about Othello. Jack's young enough to not think his Dad's passion is embarrassing.

"Have you watched Othello?" Jack asks, a question that Aaron's neglected to ask you. "I'm not old enough to yet."

"I haven't seen that one yet, but I've seen Much Ado About Nothing."

"Is that the one with the olive gardens?" Jack asks. Aaron frowns, eyes searching for the answer in that big beautiful minds tonight.

"Yes," he says finally. "That was the one with the olive trees."

Jack giggles. "There was kissing in that movie."

"Lots of it," Aaron agrees. You're not sure you're talking about the same film, but it's cute to see the two of them interact.

"With the guy who plays Lockhart in the second Harry Potter movie?" You ask. Jack laughs just like his father. It's all light and mirth. He nods in confirmation.

"His name is Kenneth," Jack says like he's familiar with him. When Aaron smiles, you know Jack's his whole world.

It’s not long before Aaron realised he’d brought Jack in without asking if he wanted anything. The afternoon rush had died down, leaving you in the space between out-of-work and dinner. You make the most chocolate-y hot chocolate you can for Jack when Aaron says he can have one. Well, Jack says the best bit is the froth, so it’s more child-size-hot-chocolate-in-an-adult-mug-full-of-froth. Jack loves it. He slurps at the chocolate, which leaves a giant frothy mustache over his top lip that won’t go away no matter how much he licks at it.

When he’s done you let him come around to the kitchen to wash his face, because no amount of wet napkins is going to fix that mess. Jack can’t reach the sink, so you fashion a step out of old milk and bread crates. Joe gives him cake batter to taste before realising that he actually has no idea who Jack is. Aaron watches from the kitchen door with a smile on his face. You don’t catch it until Jack jumps off the crates and takes your hand, leading you back out. Aaron’s fingers brush your hand as you pass him. Electricity sparks between the two of you that's completely unavoidable. The two of you recoil involuntarily.

Aaron gives you a small smile of apology. You give exactly the same one back. Lola legitimately gasps like she too felt the electricity between the two of you. Surely that was just something that happened in movies? Or in books? That’s not a real thing, right? But Aaron brushes past you again, as if he’s making sure as well, and it’s there again. Only it’s like your whole arm becomes pins and needles, not just a quick lightning spark.

If it’s like that every time you’re with him, your not sure you could even go beyond lusting after him and giving him coffee and meals every now and then. Aaron drops his gaze, then follows Jack to the front of the counter.

They stay for dinner (because Jack insists, he wants the nachos) but the rush comes early and there’s really not much time to talk to them, so you almost miss them leaving. Almost. You’re serving the angry couple at table three (are they angry at you, or each other? Who knows, you don’t, but they’re taking it out on you) when Jack taps your hip.

He’s very patient as you finish the order (somehow you figure out what they want between the curse words) and bend down to him. He hands you a folded piece of paper.

“This is for you,” he says. “I did it.” You’re about to unfold it, but he insists that it belongs in your apron pocket until you can look at it with no rush. That’s a kid who knows what it’s like to have a very busy parent. So you tuck it away safely and mess with his hair, which makes him grin from ear to ear.

“See you later!” Jack yells as he runs to Aaron, who’s waving goodbye with a doggy bag full of Jack’s unfinished dinner.and his keys between his fingers.

“I’ll see you later,” he mouths as the noise in the diner starts to rise. Without thinking you blow him a kiss, which he catches effortlessly and kisses the fist closed around it before slipping out.

When you get to the kitchen Lola’s already in the midst of teasing you.

“You like him,” she says with all the confidence in the world. There’s not point denying her, so you just nod. It’s met by a chorus of ‘ooo’s which, to be honest, you really didn’t need. It made the diner feel far too small.

When everything dies down you remember the paper Jack had given you. You wipe the milk and spaghetti sauce off the counter, then make sure it’s dry, and unfold Jack’s page. It’s the generic colouring page Joe’s printed out, but Jack’s tried to make the generic waitress look like you. Well, you if you had purple hair and green skin. It’s a start, you guess, there’s an apology from Aaron on the back. Makes it worth it.

You move a couple of postcards on the corkboard aside and put Jack’s picture there instead. Joe pretends not to notice, but when Lola goes out the back with one of her customers, Joe comes round the front and presses a finger to the page.

“Good kid,” Joe says. He nods a couple of times then turns to you. “You know he and his dad come as a package, right? You fuck up one, you fuck up both.” Joe’s first wife had three kids that weren’t biologically his. He’s still mad at himself for not taking the kids seriously and only turning up for their mom.

“I know,” you say.

Joe strokes your cheek as he passes and kisses your forehead. It’s all the praise you need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist (if you want to get added, just inbox me, and if I’ve missed you I am so sorry): @willowrose99 @genevievedarcygranger @maryosprinkle @kleff03 @yoshigguk @samanthareid06 @typical-leo @leilanixx

#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #Diner!AU

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seeuonadarknite · 4 years

Text

freak — yandere oikawa tooru x f. reader

warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, creampie, hickeys, exhibitionism

Milk bread? Check. Coffee? Got it. Gum?

"Shit!" The sound of your school loafers pattering against the sidewalk resonated throughout the desolate road as you hastily detoured back to the gas station. You were probably the store's first customer of the day, and here you were ever so graciously returning because you forgot something as minimal as chewing gum.

Any sane person would forget the gum and continue their journey towards the school. But you were far from that. You had to have a few screws loose if you willingly took time out of your day to cater to your high school bully and buy him a few of his favorite snacks. Hell, his friends have even dubbed you as his little admirer due to your obedient nature.

But you weren't catering to his needs like some sort of servant because you wanted to impress him. The only thing that kept you from smacking him across the face and calling him a stuck up jerk was pure fear. You're not some masochist that enjoys being taken advantage of by someone with a power imbalance over you all because of his stupid social status, but your options are limited.

It's either play along with his brutal torment for the rest of the last semester, or try and defend yourself and place a giant target on your back for his vicious fan girls. And even if you tried fighting him back, you wouldn't even need to be outnumbered by his friends to lose. We're talking about the Grand King here. He'd take you down by himself in a matter of seconds.

As hard as it was being seen as a freak that embraced Oikawa's torment, you'd much rather lose your dignity rather than your own safety. If Oikawa told those girls that you tried laying a pretty little finger on him, he'd be throwing you into a pit of rabid wolves to shred you apart and eat you alive.

Plus, you weren't as bad as everyone made you out to be. If there was anything Oikawa was better at other than playing volleyball, it was lying. He could spread a rumor about you robbing a damn bank and not a single person would bat an eye at his impossible claim. The fact that he has the entire school body in the palm of his hand is more than unsettling. Saying you weren't interested in testing his immeasurable power was an understatement.

Sprinting over to the spot behind the school that Oikawa was oh so keen on meeting you at, your heavy pants soon turned into wheezes. God, you were only three minutes late but you were shaking like a leaf. If anything positive came out of this situation, it was that you learned that it'd be a good idea to bring a grocery list next time, and maybe some water.

"You're late, [y/n]. Care to explain?" It wasn't hard to miss the irritation that laced the normally cheerful male's tone. Lo and behold, Oikawa was already stood at your regular spot, looking as cocky and smug as ever. There was nothing that excited him more than watching your face visibly drop at the sight of his presence. What, did you really think you'd get by with being even a second late? Time was precious, and you weren't going to get away with wasting his.

Oikawa basked in the way you powerlessly trembled as he made his way towards you. You didn't even bother trying to cower away, it was priceless! Placing a hand on your chin, he forcefully tilted your head upwards and rubbed a thumb over your lower lip. "I-I'm sorry! I.. I forgot the gum.." He shot you a glare. "B-But I went back and got it! That's why I'm a little late.." You could barely even muster up a coherent response, you were so nervous.

Judging by the way he ripped the grocery bag out of your hand and began rummaging through the contents of the bag, he was not buying your excuse. Picking up the can of cold coffee you had specifically picked out for him, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "You got me the kind with creamer. Are you trying ruin my perfect body image?"

Diverting his gaze from the coffee to you, he sent you an expectant look. If you didn't come up with a reasonable excuse within the course of a few seconds, Oikawa would make you regret waking up this morning. "This was the last one left! I'm sorry—" Lies. You cut yourself off as you felt a cold, sticky substance run down your chest and seep through your school uniform.

He was pouring the coffee you had paid for all over your chest, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile while doing so. You couldn't tell what was more discomforting, the feeling of ice cold coffee sticking to your skin, dripping all the way down to your bellybutton, or the unsettlingly lustful gaze Oikawa held on your figure. He had to be joking. Sure, he was a jerk that got off on making your life a living hell, but he never took it to such perverse extents.

"Aww, you look so cute with your tits covered in coffee. You must be freezing! I'll warm you up." Somehow the idea of him warming you up sent chills running up your spine. There was no way in hell he was about to do something thoughtful like giving you his jacket or helping you clean up the mess he deliberately made.

Forcefully grabbing you by the shoulders, Oikawa shoved you onto the cement with ease, watching your face contort into a cringe. You could already feel the rough texture of the ground scraping at your skin through the thin fabric of your uniform. Was he about to beat the shit out of you? Why was he looking down at you like a starved carnivore?

Instead of answering the questions rapidly flowing through your head, Oikawa straddled your waist with both lanky legs. However, instead of trying to fight him back, you stare at him with a dejected look in hopes of him hurrying up whatever the hell he planned on doing.

"Now, I'm sure you're not big on getting attacked by my loyal fans. So do me a massive favor and be quiet, alright?" You wanted to wipe the stupid smirk right off of his face as he basically threatened you. This man was about to use you for his own personal pleasure and there was nothing you could do about it.

Glancing down at your glossy eyes one last time, Oikawa basks in the fearful expression that adorns your face. Making quick work of your coffee stained uniform, he popped open the buttons, giving himself a clear frontal view of your sticky cleavage.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the lacy bra that adorned your body. "Not only have you decided to wear such a lewd piece of clothing, but you wore the kind that snaps open in the front? Ahh, you must want me to fuck you."

Oikawa wasted no time in snapping open your bra, allowing your breasts to spring free. Both of your tits were on perfect display for the setter's hungry eyes to gaze at. You felt powerless and small under his primal stare. It couldn't possibly get any more worse than this.

Maybe the rumors were right, maybe you were a tad bit unhinged. Any sane person would've seen this coming from a fucking psychopath like Oikawa. "P-Please.. don't do this.." You gave pleading one last shot as you stared pathetically into his chocolate brown eyes that gleamed with amusement.

Unfortunately for you, your doe eyes only seemed to egg the cocky brunette on as he roughly clasped your breasts with each hand. Although the uncomfortable, yucky feeling of coffee sticking to your skin still lingered, the only thing you could zero in on was your tormentor's working hands as he squeezed your hardened nipples in between his slender fingers.

He was squeezing and fondling your sensitive mounds like stress balls. Did he forget that you were a human just like him? Has he really amounted you to a mere plaything for him to toy with whenever he pleased? With the way that his hands kneaded and pulled at your breasts like dough, you were beginning to think that your theories were correct.

His half lidded eyes flicker up to yours for a split second, allowing him to witness the deliciously mortified expression you wore. Within a fluid movement, Oikawa leans down and traps your lips in a ferocious kiss. It started off with just Oikawa forcefully merging his lips onto yours, but with the squeeze of your breast you regretfully gasped, allowing passageway for his wet appendage.

It's hard to decipher what's more uncomfortable; the feeling of Oikawa's tongue swishing around yours, rendering it nearly impossible to breathe or the obvious hard on he has rubbing up against your skin. When he finally pulls away, his breaths are heavy and uneven.

Hooking his fingers under the waistbands of your skirt and panties, Oikawa tugs the elastics down, watching as your slick strings down along with your panties. Crimson shaded your cheeks as you averted your gaze from Oikawa's. If there was any possible way of coping with the mortifying situation at hand, it'd be closing your eyes and pretending to be anywhere but where you were.

Unfortunately for you, sight wasn't your only sense. Shutting your eyes wouldn't stop you from hearing the sound of Oikawa's belt buckle clinking, and it wouldn't prevent you from feeling his hardened cock running across your thigh. Opening your eyes, you couldn't help the audible gasp that escaped your lips as you gazed at his cock. It was as big in girth and in length as all of his fan girls had claimed. You really hoped that they had been bluffing.

Oikawa seemed to appreciate your unwavering eyes, as he prodded the tip of his cock at your hole. "Wait! Please, don't.. At least use a rubber." You pleaded, trying your hardest not to let any lewd noises to escape your mouth as he began easing his head into the walls of your cunt. However, all your pleading did was evoke an amused chuckle from the man top of you.

"Aww, that's all you're worried about? Don't worry, I'll pull out," He coos, grabbing the curves of your hips to steady himself as he pushes himself further inside of your pulsating hole. As uncomfortable as the foreign feeling of Oikawa's massive cock pushing your walls apart was, you felt a small wave of relief wash over you upon hearing his response.

He seemed to notice the look of relief taking over your features, because he sent you an ear to ear grin that put the cheshire cat to shame. With a forceful thrust that would surely leave you sore, Oikawa finally pushes the rest of his length into the constricting walls of your cunt. "..after I cum inside of you!" He grabs onto your legs and folds them into your chest within a fluid movement, making it easier for his cock to reach spots your measly fingers would never be able to find.

He either didn't notice or decided to ignore the the way your body physically tensed at his response. He was joking. Right? Sure, he obviously knew no boundaries and had no problem using and abusing your body, but you assumed he had the smallest bit of self control. Maybe you were thinking too highly of him.

Rearing his hips back a fraction, Oikawa thrusts back into you, already kissing the tip of your cervix with the head of his cock. His pace starts off slow and steady, allowing your insides to memorize each and every curve and vein on his cock. If you weren't so upset with him for doing this against your will, you would've been appreciative of his benign thrusts.

Glancing up at the clock that hung from the back of the school, Oikawa cringed. He had to make this quick. His comfortable, languid pace quickens as soon as you can relax. The once quiet spot behind the school is soon filled with sounds of grunts, moans, and ear deafening slaps. Any regard for your personal comfort is gone out the window, as he thrusts in and out of you at a rapid, unrhythmic pace.

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, running his lips over the sensitive skin whilst his hips smack against yours at what feels like one hundred miles per hour. "Maybe I'll mark you. Nobody else will be allowed to fuck you like this, only me.." If your mind wasn't zeroed in on the feeling of his balls slapping your rear at full speed, you would of picked up on the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Eyes trained on the skin of your neck, Oikawa began sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of purple bruises starting from your neck and ending at your chest. It was a mystery how he managed to create love bites and brutally fuck your hole at the same time.

Just the twitch of his cock causes your insides to squeeze at his length like a snake constricting around its victim. "Fuck, you're really tight, huh?" He grunted in your ear, basking in the way your insides devoured his throbbing cock with each and every thrust.

As Oikawa somehow managed to fasten his pace, he moved his hand down south, placing the pads of his fingers onto your swollen nub. If you weren't close before, you definitely were now. With the pressure of his fingers working absolute wonders on your clit, and his throbbing cock desperately pushing at your cervix, your body begged you for release. A small knot formed in your abdomen as his movements quickened, and your plushy walls began clamping down on Oikawa's cock.

With one last harsh hit to your cervix, you come undone, gushing your juices all over his twitching cock. As soon as you reach your well awaited climax, your vision begins to spot and your brain starts to fog. You were far too dazed to focus in on Oikawa hooking his arms over your thighs and slamming himself into your aching hole at a ferocious pace. "Aw, what a little baby! You came so fast." He taunted in your ear, half lidded eyes trained on your figure as he pummeled into you with hostile thrusts.

Although he teased you for releasing so fast, he felt his own climax arise with the way your innards hugged his cock. All it took was one last final thrust into the milking clutch of your cunt before he reached his end, hitting your swollen cervix one last time to shoot his load into your womb with a drawn out groan. God, he didn't regret ditching his condom for a second. Seeing his hot, thick fluids seep from your quivering hole boosted his already inflated ego. Only he was capable of leaving you like this.

Sliding his cock out of your dripping cunt, Oikawa watched as you sat up from your spot on the cement and began buttoning up your shirt. Cute, now coffee wasn't the only sticky substance splattered all over your skin.

After pulling his pants back up and fixing his disheveled hair, he helped you up from the ground. It would've been a kind gesture, if he hadn't followed it by forcefully tugging your panties back up with a condescending grin. "Don't go to the bathroom or wash up. If you do, I'll fuck you again and cum inside of you twice. Don't forget, I have eyes everywhere." His voice was disturbingly cheerful for the unsettling words that came from his mouth.

Sending you one last signature grin, he flashed a peace sign at you like you were one of his fan girls asking for a picture. It baffled you how two faced he could be at times. "See you later, slut!" He giggled before leaving you alone at the scene, drenched in all kinds of different liquids.

Whoever told you that high school was going to be easy was lying through their teeth.

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thechanelmuse · 4 years

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TW: rape

‘I May Destroy You,’ Michaela Coel’s gimlet-eyed exploration of trauma and its myriad ripple effects follows Arabella (Coel) — a funny, messy, sharp-as-hell London writer — after a dizzying night in which she’s drugged and raped by a stranger. At first, she dismisses the hazy memory as just an upsetting image in her head. Soon enough, though, Arabella reluctantly comes to understand it as the truth, and tries to work through that horrifying reality without coming apart. [...]

Not every part of Arabella has a direct line to Coel, but the series’ catalyzing experience, unfortunately, does. In 2016, Coel took a break from a marathon writing session for the second season of “Chewing Gum” to grab a drink with a friend, and was drugged and assaulted by a stranger. She’s been sifting through the emotional wreckage ever since to find some kind of clarity, if not peace. Now, with “I May Destroy You,” she’s doing it for all the world to see. “As a fellow android exploring what it means to be human,” says Coel’s friend Janelle Monáe, “watching Michaela be vulnerable on-screen as she walks in her truth gives me and so many the bravery to walk in ours.” [...]

Coel began writing “I May Destroy You” in February 2017, in between acting in TV projects like the “USS Callister” episode of “Black Mirror” and Netflix’s limited series “Black Earth Rising.” She took solo mountain trips and wrote draft after draft of what would eventually become “I May Destroy You,” spilling her stories and tangled guts onto the page, rearranging them into shapes she could better recognize. In August 2018, she spoke about her trauma publicly while delivering the Edinburgh International Television Festival’s James MacTaggart Memorial Lecture, a prestigious assignment the festival has otherwise bestowed on a cadre of white British television mainstays (as well as no fewer than three Murdochs).

The majority of Coel’s speech, delivered to a room of the U.K.’s most powerful entertainment brokers, traced the constant racism and classism she endured on the way to that Edinburgh stage — a theme subtextually underlined by the fact that Coel was, and remains, the only Black woman to have that platform. She spoke about turning her solo play “Chewing Gum Dreams” into a “Chewing Gum” TV series (which aired 2015-17 on the U.K.’s Channel 4), a transformative time that taught her the technicalities of making television and confirmed just how disinclined certain white gatekeepers are to trust a poorer Black woman’s vision. Toward the end of the 50-minute lecture, Coel revealed her assault and elucidated the industry’s inability — or unwillingness — to handle such a human emergency when pages are due. As for her recovery, she said, “It’s been therapeutic to write about it, and actively twist a narrative of pain into something with more hope, and even humor.”

When it finally came time to translate it all to the screen, “I May Destroy You” was so close to her bruised heart that Coel took on the challenge of playing several roles throughout the series’ development: creator, writer, actor, producer, director. Netflix offered her a total fee of a cool $1 million to make and star in the show, but the proposed contract wouldn’t grant Coel even a tiny percentage of the rights. She hadn’t fully realized how much claiming legal proprietorship over her work mattered to her until the prospect of not being able to emerged, at which point it became crucial.

Then, after some Googling, she realized that her CAA agents would also be profiting from the deal via the endangered practice of packaging. Stung and surprised, Coel walked away from both her agents and the offer. “I’m not anti-Netflix,” she’s quick to say now, “but I am pro-‘the creator, writer, director, actor should probably have a right.’” She’s hyper-aware of how much this project required of her, and how comparatively little granting her “a right” might cost a powerful network like Netflix. “That’s not quite fair, is it?” Coel muses. Creating the show, after all, took almost everything she had.

With the BBC, a million-dollar paycheck might not have been in the cards, but more important to Coel, she didn’t have to fight half as hard to claim ownership. (As a matter of industry course, it’s far more common for British studios to afford creators rights to their work than it is for American equivalents.) They struck a deal, and Coel got to work.[...]

“When you’re restricted,” she explains, “sometimes that’s where you find great things: in the lack of possibility.” She attributes this rather Zen approach to Hugo Blick, the “Black Earth Rising” showrunner who showed her the value of keeping a cool, empathetic head on set. Blick’s ability to step away from a gnarly situation for even 30 calming seconds is one that Coel has worked to hone for herself, especially while steering a series with such fraught ties to her history. No matter how sideways things might go, she never wants to forget just how much she loves the collaborative act of building a television show, wild complications and all.

From Forbes:

I May Destroy You’s Michaela Coel Rejected Netflix’s $1 Million Offer In Favor Of The BBC Because Of Ownership

The creative, who stars as Arabella and wrote all 12 episodes, started pitching the programme in the spring of 2017 with one of her first ports of call being Netflix who picked up her prior series Chewing Gum.

Though Netflix offered a generous upfront fee of $1 million (£800,000), the sum had strings attached, including full rights ownership away from the creator, something Coel pushed back against. Coel recalls a moment during the interview where she is speaking with a Netflix development executive on the phone, asking if she could retain even a very small 0.5% of the copyright to her show.

“There was just silence on the phone. And she said, ‘It’s not how we do things here. Nobody does that, it’s not a big deal,’” Coel recollected. “I said, ‘If it’s not a big deal, then I’d really like to have 5 % of my rights,’” Coel added, stating that she even went down to 2%, and then 1% and even as a final compromise to 0.5%.

Coel remembers that the executive said she would have to run it passed her superiors, before adding, “‘Michaela? I just want you to know I’m really proud of you. You’re doing the right thing.'”

“I remember thinking, I’ve been going down rabbit holes in my head, like people thinking I’m paranoid, I’m acting sketchy, I’m killing off all my agents,” Coel says. “And then she said those words to me, and I finally realized — I’m not crazy. This is crazy.”

Coel discovered her agents, Creative Artists Agency (CAA) were set to make an undisclosed amount from the series if she took the deal with Netflix. She reveals that the agency pushed her to take the deal prior to her finding out and their subsequent dismissal as her U.S. representation.

Taking the project to British broadcaster the BBC later in 2017, Coel found the corporation to be supportive with her maintaining creative control even with the explicit depictions of sex, sexual assault and drug use. Plus, as the broadcaster had to adhere to terms of trade, Coel had no problem with retaining the rights also. The broadcaster also brought HBO to the table as another co-producer to help subsidise a portion of the budget.

This isn’t about just “knowing your worth;” it’s about knowing the business (your business) and never settling just to secure “something.” A million dollar offer, no copyright ownership and no creative control is beyond disrespectful. Learn the business in whatever field you’re in and stay acclimated with jargon and new, current and old practices. Know your shit.

It’s like when people say “Get a lawyer” to handle negotiations and look over your paperwork. You pay a lawyer to do a job, but it does not mean you should be oblivious to aspects of law and contract jargon among other things because “that’s what they’re there to do.” You can’t say someone (sometimes lawyers included) screwed you over after you’ve signed the dotted line. They’re protecting and looking out for themselves. Commit to do the same for yourself.

#michaela coel #i may destroy you #film business #ownership #hbo #bbc #netflix #business

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