#so that if some rando comes around and takes a peek at my work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uberlin-sternspeier · 1 year

Text

SOUNDING THE TRUMPET OF TRANS REBELLION (Part 3)

Ever since I was a small child, I've been convinced my life would end in some horrible way. I distinctly remember when I was 5 and walking through the city, all I would think about was ninjas following and killing me in a back-allay. Je, literal ancient Japan ninjas. Look, I was a child, it wasn't rational. In fact, I was a distinctly irrational child with no brains whatsoever. Being braindead didn't help the fear of being actual dead, tho.

Once I saw the exit to the stupid ass garden I was in, I rushed. I was way too exhausted for any complicated thoughts, so it took quite a while for me to recognize that there were people waiting at the exit. But I did in fact notice. Running, then walking, then stopping as I realized it. I couldn't make out much detail in the dark. To my tired eyes, they looked like literal shadow people, like the ones U get when U got sleep paralysis.

I hid behind a dead tree.

If there'd been anything left in my bladder, I'd have pissed myself. Lucky me, there wasn't, and the freeing sensation of not pissing my pants calmed me down a little. Really, I hadn't seen much of them. Maybe they were just a bunch of randos, assembled right at the exit of where I had crashed, coincidentally. Extremely coincidentally. Je. And maybe a truck. Had I seen a truck? A van, maybe ... I don't actually know the difference. Cautiously I dared to take a peek from behind my dead tree. Then I snapped back!

Je, there were 2 trucks. That and like, maybe a megadrone. A bunch of fuckoid, idiot bullshit cops were there. Either that or some gebbeth youth with some godgore guns who just happened to be here with 2 vans and a megadrone they somehow bought out of pocket ... so ... je, thems were cops and I was fucked.

The frozen bark pressed against my exo. If the fuckoids were a search party, they'd come searching soon. It wasn't really my specialty, or even something that I had ever successfully done, but I tried sneaking anyways. Rushed from dead tree to dead tree. Hoped that the exo didn't screech too much. If there was an exit, there must be a wall or fence, right? I was trying to move around them and then just climb the damn wall. Or fence.

The tree hopping actually worked for a hot minute. Maybe they didn't have an Ubernet-connection? Or they just thought it funny to watch me scramble. I was starting to feel my heartbeat when I took cover behind the thirtieth frothdead tree. It was then when the people in the distance suddenly started coming closer.

They were spreading out, all casual like. "O", I thought then. I literally thought this to myself. I thought "O, they're connected to a monkeybrain" and just then they started firing.

Ratatatatat. Before, there had been silence. Now there was the t-t-t-t, the grrrrrrrrrt, the tssssssssssssss. I cowered. Behind my tree. Held my ears. Screamed my true name and couldn't hear it for the noise.

Then there was silence again. The pain of bullets hitting my skin made itself noticed. It invaded my back. They had hit me. But the spell still stood. The dead tree fell over to the side.

I ran! Towards the (presumed) wall or fence. Not towards them, not away from them.

Someone shouted: "He's getting away!", presuming all criminals to be men, as cops are often wont to do. However, the voice came from somewhere around the exit, not from the people who had actually moved towards me.

They shot again. I hid behind a tree again. Shouted my name through gritted teeth.

This one lasted for a solid minute. A minute of nothing but nonsense noises, a minute of t-t-t-t and the like. After the lärm subsided, my ears were ringing. Somewhere underneath the ringing was the sound of my own breath.

Feeling nothing, I stood up. I stared at them like deer would stare at a car, so afraid that U get curious.

Their bullets could hurt like shit, still they couldn't kill or even severely injure me. What I feared more was being shot by a bunch of rapid machine guns and feeling every bullet and breaking from the torture. What I feared even more than that was whatever other cruel weaponry they might have.

Such a horrible nightmare. They stared back, a square logo on their equipment, reading in minimalist letters: "Reunion Carbide". They were corpse. Actual fucking police from a straggot company, out here just to kill me.

And I knew they would succeed.

When I was 8, I had just learned what poison is. Naturally, I thought I'd die from poison. Why would someone have poisoned me? I don't know. But why wouldn't they poison me if they'd get the chance? 'They' being my teachers, the neighbors, my parents and, of course, anyone producing food. I mean, had my 8 year old self had the ability to poison someone, she probably would've. Why not? She would've poisoned all the people mentioned above and I cannot hold that against her.

Reunion Carbide was not a food company, but they were, in fact, a poison company. No surprise that the next wave wasn't bullets.

One of the people who was monkeybrain-controlled (I figured the ones in the back weren't) dropped their gun. Then, boom, pulled out a different gun.

Shot.

I dodged to the left. But the thing hadn't been aimed at me and hit the ground instead. Then, a hissing came from the hole it had made. A sizzle, then silence. That was the moment I decided to connect to the Ubernet again, fearing my lack of senses, fearing all things unseen, the blunt terror of death inside my frail little heart. And indeed, once connected, the Ubernet colored the overwise invisible gas leaking out from the the ground where the projectile had hit.

Blue mist started to surround me. I held my breath.

Whilst dodging I had left the crates lying on the ground, back at the last tree. I couldn't abandon them now, right? As I picked them up, the corpse fired again with the rapids. Hit me right in the thigh. Thus I exhaled, yet I somehow managed to not inhale and die immediatly. A single crate was all I was able to grab in my haste. With it in hand I just ran as fast as I could.

Running in the very same direction, not stopping. On exiting the blue mist, I inhaled again. I shouted so loud my lungs almost popped: "ASTRE!" Only to then hold my breath again, seeing blue mist capsules being shot into the ground around me.

If knew how I escaped, I'd tell U, but I have no idea. I vaguely remember stumbling as they shot my legs and it hurt. I vaguely remember falling and enduring a wave of rapids while getting up again. Beyond that, the memory is hazy. There was a lot of pain, I remember that. There was a lot of holding my breath and very little thought. By all rights, I ought to have broken right then and there. I ought to have let myself die. Instead I climbed a half destroyed wall. There was a windmill beyond the wall, of all things. An old timey windmill is what I mean. Small and odd, full of character, surrounded by the indistinct square buildings, reaching towads the sky. Obviously, I must've lost my mind, and yet I decided that this windmill was real and hid inside of it. That was a bigawful idea, but ... U know, I really ought to have broken, I mean it. I wanted to cry more than I had ever wanted to cry in my entire life. Actually, I was so darn near breaking, that I could barely contain the jittering that I had only ever let out when no one was around. I wanted to become insane, to drive myself completely mad so that I wouldn't have to bear the burden of sentience anymore. It just never works out that way. U can scream but no one is around. I screamed my true name again, like a doofus.

At age 13, I was sure my classmates would kill me. Just pull out a knive or another sharp object, maybe even a lightcutter, and suddenly stab me for being born. Why did I not deserve to live back then? Who knows, but I certainly didn't. Why was I at school anyways? It's not like we could've afforded 10th grade and beyond.

Now, as to why hiding was a stupid move: I was still connected to the Ubernet, so I wasn't actually hidden. It didn't take long for some random asshole to climb over the wall as well. I heard them, in fact.

I was too exhausted to fight a corperate cop. But there was no other choice. Sluggishly I stood, waiting for them to enter the building or shoot poison inside or something. Maybe I really waited for death. This had gone on for too long and I knew it. My life, I mean. I was a child again when I waited for this person to come and kill me.

"Heat from fire?", I heard a raspy voice saying from outside the windmill.

I was so confused. "The fuck?", I replied.

The voice stressed the words: "Heat. From. Fire."

"O, fuck U. No way. Fuck off. Go die Urself in a corner!", I replied.

Nothing happened for a moment.

I answered, annoyed or dissapointed: "And fire from heat ..."

Again a pause.

The voice: "Ur a body snatcher, aren't U?"

Me: "Shut up. U trans for real?"

Them: "Enby, je." They paused some more, like we had all the time in the world. "U a body snatcher, I know it. Listen, U really helped me once."

Me: "I don't help cops as a rule. Fucking traitor ass, U think I'm delighted cuz my executioner is trans? Fuck U."

Them: "... But I'm not gonna do it, U know? Disconnect from Ubernet, Imma tell everyone I couldn't find U."

My breathing somehow got more heavy. "For real?"

Them: "Je."

Me: "U lying. U gonna shoot poison in here as soon as I disconnect."

Them: "... Nah."

... I disconnected. With shaky motions I took my crate and left the windmill.

Before me stood a monster.

They were almost 3 meters tall, probably corperate cloned and bred them to be. Their exo was like mine, but unlike mine it fit them perfectly. Plus they were wearing some thick body armor all over. Even their face was covered. Beyond that, they were carrying 3 weapons. One rapid, one of those poison thingies, and a simple knife.

They were truly pitiful. A human war machine. Existing to hurt others. I was boiling.

They said: "Hm. It wasn't U. But some other body snatcher helped me for sure. He hooked me up with T for a while."

Immediatly knowing and cursing who it was, I didn't reply.

They said: "That's the only thing I ever got to control about my life. Well, and now this, I suppose."

I didn't want to hear it. I was shaking with anger.

Squatting to get down to my level, they said to me, face to face: "Thank U. U're doing gods work ... Now go."

This is where I punched them in the face.

At the sweet age of 17, I had been convinced that I'd kill myself some day. Je, I was very depressed back then ... but that's not why I thought that. I didn't WANT to kill mysself, it was more like a prediction. An observation. In a way, I was the shitmonki long before I joined the body snatchers: reckless, driven by a lack of concern for the body I was controlling, just like strong AI controls police grunts. Just, U know, slightly more shit at the controlling part. Day in and day out I'd be thinking of what reckless stupid action I could possibly take that would lead to my self inflicted doom. Like, maybe I'd run through an Ubahn station and slip and the Ubahn would run me over.

They actually stumbled backwards as I hit them. "U stupid motherfucker", I said. "U doing this NOW!?"

When they didn't say anything, I just jumped them. I pushed them over and started beating their fucking head in! I whispered my name and my fist made a loud bang every time I hit their helmet. My facial expression must've been manic.

"I'm not a good person!", I shouted at them. I screeched: "U think Ur life is more important somehow, U monster!?"

Now I made a big dent in their helmet. I hit them. And I hit them. Again. "U botbrain." And again. "I saved." In the face! "A fucking murderer!"

They hit back. I barely noticed. "Fucking monster." And I hit them. "Inhuman." Part of their helmet broke. They hit me in the gut. I barfed, right in their face. They tried to shake me off, yet they didn't draw their knife. I hit them. "U don't deserve to live." I regretted those words, but I continued to hit them. "And I don't deserve it either." And I stopped.

They tilted their head to the side. With a slow motion, they wiped the barf from their face. Nothing more.

We stayed like that for while. Me on top, ready to punch them more if needed. All was silent now. Then I noticed they were quietly weeping.

I sighed. "I really wish U would've just fucking killed me."

They did not respond.

#lgbtq #trans #fiction #cyberpunk

0 notes

dontbeunraisonable · 3 years

Text

New Year’s Kiss — BNHA x Reader — Part Five

(This takes place in a wonderful alternate universe where covid doesn’t exist. Please stay safe this holiday season! Please don’t exchange saliva with randos!)

This feels kinda repetitive, but I hope you enjoy regardless!

Characters Included: Iida Tensei, Takami Keigo, Todoroki Natsuo, Toyomitsu Taishiro

Word Count: 725

Warnings: none?

The rest of the series is here!

“3! 2! 1! Happy New Year’s!” . . .

Iida Tensei

Tensei sneakily peeked from an upstairs window, watching his little brother and his partner kissing. He squinted his eyes. “You don’t think that’s their first kiss, do you?”

“Hey, give them a little privacy,” you teased, pulling the curtain shut. He looked up to you and argued about how he wanted to make sure Tenya was doing it right. You cringed at the idea, and told him to let the two of them learn. He cringed at that idea, too, and turned away from the window.

“Can I get a smooch?” He tapped his lips and looked up at you pleadingly. “I’m not a Pro Hero anymore, so I can up my sugar intake.” He winked.

“Ugh, that was so gross, Tensei.” He laughed, but was stopped when you pressed a long kiss to his lips. He hummed happily, and his hands went up to cup the back of your neck, keeping your lips against his.

Takami Keigo

Keigo had fallen asleep at like 9pm. You tried not to laugh him awake, carefully pushing him off of you and onto the pillows. You snuck off to tidy up the hurricane left in the kitchen, knowing that trying to convince him of New Year’s cleaning would be pointless. He hadn’t been able to sleep well for a few weeks, maybe months, and you were thankful that he could now.

After cleaning up the apartment a little bit, you pointed the portable heater towards Keigo’s sleeping form and then crawled back into bed with him. You were careful not to put any of your cold bare skin against him, and cuddled up next to him.

He stirred when fireworks began, and you soothed him, running your hand through his tangled hair and rubbing his back. He flopped his head onto your chest. You kissed his forehead, whispering, “Happy New Year, baby.” He murmured something, and then turned to kiss you.

He missed, kissing the corner of your lips, and then fell back asleep with a sigh, letting you softly massage his scalp and hum him softly to deep sleep.

Todoroki Natsuo

Natsuo regretted promising his sister that he would come visit the family house for a short while. He hadn’t wanted to bring you, but you wanted to see his siblings and believed that spending a short time at the house would be okay. The meal was awkward, and you were relieved when Natsuo brought you to his room in the house while everyone else wandered off to calm down.

You two were watching videos online, when his phone buzzed, alerting you two to the new year. You grinned, lightly tossing your phone aside, and pulled Natsuo into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, crawling on top of you to deepen the kiss.

Heavy footsteps suddenly hurried down the hallway, pausing at his door. Natsuo looked up, knowing whose steps they were, but the footsteps hurried down again without opening the door. He wondered aloud what they wanted.

“Probably just to wish us a Happy New Year,” you consoled, and you cut off his complaints with more kisses. He melted again, laying on top of you and continuing what you two had begun.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

Taishiro was working New Year’s Eve and you were a little sad about it. You had gone drinking with some friends and were walking home after, while looking up at the firework shows of the new year. You were in the district that Tai was assigned to this evening, which was a pretty safe district, so you weren’t too worried about walking home alone.

You heard his loud laugh from one of the food shops, and saw him and his two students talking with the street vendor. Red Riot saw you first, and waved and called you over. You hurried over, giving the three boys hugs.

“Hey boys,” Tai said, making his way with you to the alleyway, “keep eating, I will be right back.” You followed him to the alley, wondering if something was wrong. Once alone, he leaned down and kissed your lips. “I need some New Year’s luck,” he teased, and you pulled him down again.

“Let me give you some more,” you said, kissing him several more times before telling him to get back to the boys and his food. He said he would, after a few more kisses, which you gladly gave him.

Posted 2020 December 31

257 notes · View notes

id-never-letyoudown · 3 years

Text

Uhhhh part two of the rare pair part 1

"Sleep well, Dove?"

"It's too early for your nonsense." Henry complained, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had not. Slept well, that is. It was the damn nightmares again. They always came this time of year.

Henry had already visited the field. That usually helped things, but not this time.

"Tell me about them."

"Them what?"

"The nightmares." Even though he already knew well enough what they were about. "The men." Wilbur already knew. He's been in Henry's head more times than he could count. He had to make sure he was the right one for the job, after all. He didn't dig through everything in that mess Henry called a mind. His thoughts were constantly all over the place. And why were there so many musicals and chemical compositions in that thing?

Besides, he needed Henry to trust him if this thing was going to work. Something told him digging around that brain of his wouldn't end well.

Henry paused, looking down at his steaming mug of coffee. "They were dear friends of mine. Lovers." He takes a sip, it's more bitter than usual. "I was the cause of their deaths. Though... you already knew that." His eyes flick up to meet Wilbur's over the rim of his mug. "Didn't you?"

"..."

"I knew I could feel something rooting around. You were scoping me out before we even formally met, weren't you?" Henry grins in victory, setting his coffee down with a satisfying 'clack' against the marble counter.

"Aren't you supposed to be pissed?"

"If anything I'm intrigued! Can you read everyone's minds?" He leaned against the counter, head propped in his hand. "Ooo-what else do you know about me? I want the details."

Wilbur snorted, "Course I can. And for the record I don't know everything about you. I stopped looking around after a bit."

"Oh? So I still got some secrets then?" Henry would have thought he'd have long since taken advantage of his abilities. Know him inside and out. "Huh, seems I've pegged you wrong."

"You couldn't peg me at all." He grins.

Henry only shrugged. And something told Wilbur that he didn't get the joke.

Wilbur clears his throat, "Anyway, uh, wanna hear about which of the Monroe brats isn't Gerald's? The answer may shock you." Like a damn click bait article.

Henry's eyes light up, a loud gasp escaping him. "I knew it!" He was always down for gossip. And a scandal like that? It was right up his alley.

Wilbur enjoyed watching the man lose his shit with every little Hatchetfield secret he told him. And there were a lot. He could tell Henry was plenty skeptical of him, but he was getting there. Little by little.

Henry walked into the kitchen to fetch some refreshments for his monthly 'date night' with John and Xander. Used to be bi-monthly. And before that it'd been weekly. Nowadays he found the pair trying to gently nudge him away. And normally it wouldn't have bothered him. But they hadn't started doing this until after he was let go from P.E.I.P. Which made him think.

And think.

And overthink.

He had no problem with leaving the relationship. If they were to simply ask him. But all these hints? He could do without. Xander kept trying to set him up on blind dates. And John was cold. Even when the three of them were intimate. Especially when the three of them were intimate.

It really got him thinking....

His hand barely touches his turtleneck. Was it... no, it couldn't possibly be the scars. John had plenty of his own. Although, baring witness to how Henry got them probably made that very, very different. And there was the nerve damage. And the pain. Which always got worse when there was a storm approaching.

John was his friend. He didn't want him thinking he was responsible for any of that. He should call him-

His phone began ringing, as if on cue. He fetches it from his pocket. Of all the coincidences-

He answers it immediately. "I was just thinking about you, say we really ought to have a chat when you two get here-" his stomach sinks at the reply. "Oh... so, you can't make it then?... No, no. I understand. I hope you two have fun." And he hung up.

He looks at the bottle in his hand. At the neatly set dinner table. At the flowers he picked himself. Apparently the date the three of them made their 'throuple', as the kids called it, official wasn't all that important to them.

Such a shame he had to spend the day alone.

Or... not.

"... Wilbur, how do you like your steak?"

Wilbur was always there, even when he thought he wasn't. He didn't know why he felt comfort in that.

"Who was that?" Xander commented, fixing his tie in the mirror.

"Henry. I was telling him about how we couldn't make... it...." He trailed off when he walked into their bedroom and saw his husband getting dressed. "Where are you going?'

Xander paused, standing up straight. "Couldn't make it next month, right?... You told him next month, right?"

John pressed his lips into a fine line. "Iiiii thought you said-"

"John!" Xander dropped his tie. "Why would I tell you to tell him that we wouldn't be able to make it on the three of us' anniversary?"

"It was a mistake-I'll just call him back real quick." John did not want to face his husband's wrath, he could already feel his eyes melting the back of his skull as he dialed Henry's number. "It's just going straight to voicemail-"

"Get dressed, we're going anyways. And y o u can explain the mix-up."

"Where'd you learn to cook?" Wilbur asked him. Not that he needed to eat. Or had a great sense of taste nowadays. But it was nice to have something to chew on now and again. And it smelled amazing.

"Oh, my aunt. This is all from her recipe book." He seemed rather proud of that fact.

"Well, safe to say those two are missing out."

Henry hums. He's been quiet all through dinner. Still down about being cancelled on with such short notice. "You know what? They are." He stabs his fork a little too forcefully, and sends his mashed potatoes straight in the air. And right smack in his face.

They both pause.

And then Wilbur starts laughing. Which sets Henry into his own fit of giggling.

"Do you hear that?" Xander paused on Henry's doorstep, hearing the laughter coming from inside.

"Doesn't sound like he's alone." John muses, trying to see if he could sneak a peek through one of the windows. He can see Henry fine. But whoever it is he's with is just out of sight.

"John!" Xander whisper shouts, tugging on his husband's sleeve. "You can't just spy on our friend like that!"

"Aren't you curious?" John looks back at Xander.

"I-well-yes! But not enough to spy on him!"

The two continue to bicker quietly, or, they thought they were being quiet.

Wilbur looks over his glass, humming. "You've got guests." The curtains then shut themselves. It was a good thing neither of them could see him. He doubted seeing the former colonel would sit well with either of them. Especially John.

"What-" Henry looks towards the door, face now free of the mess from before. He can hear exactly who it is too. And it both confuses and ticks him off.

"And they know you're not alone. They won't buy it if you say you are." Wilbur stands up, "Gotta make them leave somehow."

Henry wracks his brain for an idea. And seeing as he's well into that bottle of wine, they're not really thought out. "... You can change your appearance, right?"

Wilbur locks eyes with Henry, a grin splitting across his face.

"Just knock."

"You knock-"

Henry opens the door a crack, taking a peek at the two of them. "... I thought you two couldn't make it." He responds plainly, not even greeting them.

"There was a mix-up." Xander explained, elbowing his husband to elaborate.

"I meant to tell you that we wouldn't be able to make it next time." John tells him.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Henry wraps his fingers around the door, glancing back into the house. "Because I ended up taking your advice, Xander. And I think it'd be terribly awkward of me to explain to my date."

Xander is equal parts thrilled and... well, confused. Thrilled because he wanted Henry to have someone to lean on when they weren't around. And confused because Henry had always outright refused whenever Xander brought up mixers or blind dates. "That's wonderful, Hen! Do we know who it is?"

"I ah-well-" Henry blinked, shit. He didn't even know who Wilbur was going to come around that corner looking like-

"Gary Goldstein, attorney at law!" Henry nearly jumped when the man announced himself. His face flushed. He let the door open fully, and there he was. The supposed Gary Goldstein. A faithful rendition, he'd say.

It was an... awkward conversation to say the least. When Henry finally managed to turn the two away he locked the door behind them.

"Whatthefuckwasthat?"

"You didn't tell me w h o to look like! I just chose a rando guy!"

"I... goddamnit." Henry stood there, trying not to laugh at the thoughts that had to be bouncing around in John and Xander's head right about now. "At least you chose someone at least somewhat attractive."

"Yeah, cuz talking non-stop about audits is so attractive." Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, the illusion dropping almost instantly.

Henry smiles, wine getting to his head. "That's much better."

"What?"

"... Hm? Oh, nothing. This was fun. Should do it again sometime."

"You're really going to make an entire plotline-"

"Is that what we're calling our 'reality scheming'?"

"-be quiet, are you really creating an entire plot based off of one thing this Matthews guy said to you?"

".... Yes, of course. Naturally. I'm calling it 'The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals'... hm, sure is a mouthful. What do you think?" Henry slides over his tablet to show Wilbur, who doesn't know if he should be impressed or not.

He rolls his eyes, leaning over to get a good look at it. "... You know, I think the big man might actually get a kick out of this."

"Speaking of, am I ever going to meet this 'Wiggley' character?" Henry slides his tablet back, tapping on the screen before resuming his scribbling.

"Depends on how well you perform, Dove-"

"Why do you call me that?" Henry looked up, reading glasses askew. He pulls them off to clean them up, fetching a cloth from his coat pocket.

"What, you don't like it?" Like that'd stop him. Wilbur watches Henry. He can't decide if he likes him better with or without the glasses-

"I just find it odd, is all. I don't mind it." He slides them back on, looking back up at him once again. "You called me that the first time we met-"

"That wasn't the first time we met."

"Excuse me?"

Wilbur is no longer sitting on the table. Henry thinks he's up and left until he finds him sitting in the living room, just barely visible from the kitchen. He gets up and follows him with a huff.

"I watched you for a while, before that day. I saw a lot of things." He chuckles, "Lotta embarrassing things too. But that's not the point." He pops his feet up on the coffee table. "I saw you with that bird a while back. You were talking to it. Thought it was kinda kooky, kinda sweet."

Henry has to think for a while, and then his face softens. "The bird you saw was one I nursed back to health." He sighs, walking up to him and kicking his legs so he's forced to move them. "Get your damn feet off my mahogany." He then walks past him, just to sit on the other end of the couch.

Wilbur scowls. He could kill Henry so easily, doesn't he know that? "How kind."

"It was either that or put it out of its misery." Henry makes himself comfortable, leaning back on the couch.

"I doubt you'd have the guts to do that."

"You don't think I'm capable of mercy killing? That's laughable." Henry eyes him, "Look in my mind and find out. Go on. You have my permission."

Wilbur did. And it hit him all at once. It wasn't that the scene shocked him. He just hadn't been prepared for the rush of emotion.

He saw Henry's hands. Injecting something into an IV drip. Shaking as they did so. And a man. So pale and sickly. Just lying on the bed. But he was smiling. And that's all he could see before Henry pushed him out.

"Promise me something, Wilbur."

He looked at him. So he actually was going to use that damn condition then? "... What?"

"Don't ever underestimate me or think me incapable." He curled up on the couch, looking ready to settle in for some sleep. "Promise me, Wilbur." His eyes weren't leaving him anytime soon.

"... I promise."

Henry seemed satisfied, now closing his eyes. "Alexa, play my Sleep playlist."

As soft music filled the room, Wilbur realized that maybe he bit off more than he could chew. Henry was chosen for a reason. He had to remember that.

He also realized it really didn't take long for Henry to fall asleep. At all. Out like a light.

Wilbur gets up, not even thinking when he takes the professor's glasses off for him. "Dumbass."

#tgwdlm #cridgens #henry hidgens #wilbur cross #professor hidgens #black friday musical

20 notes · View notes

sourbat · 3 years

Note

#6 Pickleface, please!

Tongue-tied

enjoy :)

It’s nearing one in the morning, and Pickles is flipping through the channels, heel tapping through the line of infomercials with the steady hum and beat that echoes with the drum of Murderface’s fingers against his stomach. Coffee, booze, weed and just about every brand of chip and candied popcorn known to man litters the surrounding couch. The blanket once shared between them now clutters the floor, pooled mainly around Murderface’s feet.

Murderface sees a flash of red on the screen and spits up a bit of his drink. He points a finger. “Hey, shtop there!”

Pickles lifts his heel. “Here?”

“Nah, nah! Go back a few channels!” Murderface says, then grabs at the near-empty bowl of caramel corn. “I shink I shaw your fashe…”

“Oh, great,” Pickles mutters sarcastically, but a twinkle in his eyes tells Murderface he’s already looking forward to whatever insults the guy has in store for him. He presses his arched foot onto the pedal, goes back a few channels till Murderface stops him with a shake of the arm. Pickles slaps his hand away once he settles. “Alrighty, what’s the damage this time?”

A boring, late night documentary on the history of glam rock, starring a bunch of no-names who likely majored in music appreciation and realized the only way anyone was going to bother listening to them was to mask their fancy words with flashy images of bands Pickles barely remembers from his youthful days. His tongue drags against the top row of his teeth, tracing the shape of his left incisor while Murderface insults the jackoff with the thick-rimmed glasses donning long, poorly dyed hair.

“What a fuckin’ tool,” Pickles comments, earning a loud cackle from Murderface.

“For real,” Murderface agrees, then reaches for the bong situated near the edge of the table, and prepares himself a hit.

Pickles is in the middle of grabbing the discarded blanket when he catches the man fingering the bowl. “Oh, lemme have a bit when yer’ done,” he says, thinking he’s got another half-hour in him before passing out for dreamland. He glances at Murderface’s slightly protruding stomach and already fantasizes resting on it right once he’s finished getting stoned.

Murderface flicks the lighter awake. “Shure thing, dude.”

Then pops a frontline image of Snakes N’ Barrels, and as the screen is hit with a blast of smoke, Pickles hears the usual spiel from the narrators who try to come off more progressive than necessary. Some rando brings up how brave Pickles was for coming out before anyone else, how he was a pioneer for queer representation, what a badass he was for performing right after surgery, blah, blah, same old shit. Pickles takes a deep hit once he’s handed the bong, smiling inwardly as the words on the screen start to blur and intermingle with Murderface’s less than forgiving commentary. A thick finger waves at a much younger, shirtless Pickles posed with an albino anaconda, and the guy nearly retches a cough before breaking into a lisped series of predictable penis jokes. Pickles holds his breath through it, letting the smoke kill whatever reasonable thought he has before spewing it in the direction of a ceiling.

“Not bad.” Murderface compliments the solid twirl of smoke as Pickles places the bong back on the table, slumps back into the cushion, then slides further on his right, falling on top of Murderface’s side.

Pickles eyes settle on a debut poster for Snakes N’ Barrel’s summer tour across Asia, and as the nobody historian, musician-whatever dude talks about how androgyny played a role in levelling the field for women performers, Murderface utters a steady whistle.

“Damn, you’re sho hot in that picture!”

“Thanks, was like…half my age back when I posed fer that,” Pickles comments. High on weed, sugar and nostalgia, Pickles stares at the dying image of his younger counterpart shifting into that of an all-female metal band, and sinks further, head now resting on Murderface’s arm. “Dang, I used t’ be a real hottie.”

Murderface ceases sorting through the caramel corn for chunks of crystalized nuts and turns to face Pickles. “Ushed to?” he asks rhetorically. “Dude, you’re shtill hot.” He rolls his shoulder, stirring Pickles to sit upright. Murderface sets the bowl aside and reclines into the corner of the sofa. “Getting the dreads wash the besht deshision ya did,” he says as Pickles drags some fingers down the corner of his eye.

A tired laugh. “Doesn’ help much against the baldin’.”

“Yeah, but look at you,” Murderface says, gesturing at Pickles’ arm. “You got bad-ash dreads, larger muschle mash, and your levels are conshtant now so you getta keep that goatee!”

Pickles rubs the bridge of his nose. “Thanks.”

Murderface leans in as Pickles reopens his reddened eyes, grim eyes shifting to a more suggestive stare. “You know I like your goatee.”

“I know.”

“Sh’real good look on you.” Murderface withdraws a little, rubs the back of his neck as his eyes settle on their covered toes, then adds, “Err, it’sh rugged.”

“Heh, thanks.” Flattered, Pickles brings hand to his goatee, tugs and smiles against the resistance of a full beard.

“Wish I could grow a beard,” Murderface mutters, mirroring Pickles’ movement with his own, and dragging his massive hand across his jawline. “Anyshing I grow comesh up uneven.”

“Nah, dood, yer’ good,” Pickles insists with a short jab of the elbow. “Ya’ aged fine. Yer’ rockin’ the ‘stache.”

“And a beer gut,” Murderface remarks, hands dropping to pat the exposed stomach peeking through shorts and a slightly raised shirt. With the atmosphere covered in a veil of smoke, and Pickles and Murderface already so high, it was impossible to read the words and tone and figure if Murderface was joking or not. Pickles, lacking forethought and a filter, assumes the former. Even at his best, William can be a critical, self-judgmental bastard.

Pickles drops on his hands, rolls his red eyes and shakes his head at Murderface. “Whaddya talkin’ about, dood? That's the best part of you!”

Murderface frowns. “What?”

Pickles raises a finger at Murderface. “Ya used t’ be a skinny, insecure baby-face!” He snickers a wide grin, then jabs his finger at the round gut. “Now yer a real man,” he says, opting to pause and enjoy the gentle quake of William’s stomach, and raises his eyes to the widening lime-colored irises dilating at his remark. Pickles laughs. “A real man with a sharp tongue, good humor, thick-ass mustache and… soft pillow fer a gut!”

“O-oh, well.” Murderface produces that humble, shy smile he only dares to express when it’s just the two of them.

Pickles eats it up and pushes further. “I mean, ya may not be as manly as this work of art,” he adds, gesturing at himself and earning an exaggerated eye roll from Murderface, “but yer perfectly fine fer snugglin’.”

Even in the dark of the room, and the hazy veil layering Pickles’ vision, he can make out the start of an uncontrolled blush.

Murderface opens his mouth, but only nervous chuckles come out. He scratches the back of his head again, raising a lax shoulder in the process and steering his eyes away as he struggles to add on to the piling list of compliments. Picking on the man’s lowering defenses, Pickles slumps further, arms sliding and body lowering, closing the gap until his head rests comfortably on top of Murderface’s stomach.

He feels Muederface twitch beneath him.

“Look at me, Will,” Pickles says, and unleashes a mean snicker once Murderface drops to meet his lazy stare. The man’s definitely blushing now, and to top it off, he’s at a loss for words. His lips are curled in, fighting between a frown because he can’t think of anything to say, and a widening grin because he knows what Pickles is going to tell him.

So he says it.

Pickles chuckles up at Murderface. “Ya’ know how I feel ‘bout my pillow.”

Some old broad shows her face to the camera. She narrates over some basic-ass music and talks about some band neither men recognize. A face of some unknown singer pops up, and Pickles yawns, flutters his heavy eyelids and brings the blanket up to his shoulders as he stares mindlessly at the screen. Murderface is nice and warm tonight, he thinks, and welcomes the cozy embrace of a cannabis-induced sleep. Underneath, he senses Murderface’s slowed breathing in the form of gentle rises and falls, and before he passes out for the night, feels something rough and wet press against his cheek.

#amazonboatchurch #pickleface #william murderface #pickles the drummer #tw: drugs #trans! Pickles #ficlet ask thing #thank you

30 notes · View notes

sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

How to Lose Friends

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: When Aundreya’s presence is requested at the BAU, she doesn’t know what to think, and is dreading the reactions of her previous teammates. Especially that of Doctor Spencer Reid. Story sixteen.

Category: Some angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Normal CM talk. Mentions of prison.

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I hit 100k words of fanfic I’ve written for this series in this part.

The buzz of the bell signaling a door opening jolted me awake.

What the fuck? Why is my door being opened?

The light streaming in from the hallway, invading my dark little space, was blinding. The only solace was the dark figure shielding most of the light from my eyes.

“What?” I rasped.

“Aundreya Chambers, lovely to see you again,” the voice was coated with sarcasm. While still somewhat unfamiliar to me, I knew who’s face belonged to that type of bitchy sarcasm.

“Majesty Strauss, welcome to my humble home. Would you like a tour before we begin?” I still barely had my eyes open, denying the fact that my minimal sleep was being desturbed. She moved further into the cell in order to stand right in front of me.

“Get up. Your presence has been requested at the BAU.”

“What? Why do they want me?” I finally opened my eyes enough to stare up at her stone cold bitchface. That was the last thing I was expecting this morning. “Is it so they each take their turn reminding me how much they hate me?”

“Stop whining and get up. They need your help,” she all but rolled her eyes, the sound of her heels clicking back over to my cell door.

“With what?” I insisted.

“I’ll brief you on the drive.” Strauss completely exited my box while I laid my head back against the thin as paper pillow, letting out an irritated sigh. “Are you coming?”

“Do I have a choice?” She gave the tightest lipped, most forced smile I’d seen a human give as one of the officers came to clasp the handcuffs around my wrists.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

The first half of the drive was dull. Strauss wasn’t much for small talk, especially with someone like me, and she refused to let me in on what was happening until we were only a few minutes out from headquarters.

It was Maeve. She’d had a stalker for a while, and now there was reason to believe she’s in immediate danger. That’s all she told me.

We finally arrived at Quantico, and I almost wanted to laugh. It’d been… what? Fifteen months since the last time I’d been there? The feeling of walking back in felt oddly familiar, like the first time I entered the building as a convicted criminal who was meeting the team. Despite the three years I’d spent with them, I was standing there as if nothing had changed. Actually, that’s not true. Things had changed. They’d gotten worse. Now, instead of wondering how they’d react to a somewhat normal looking girl who’d had a rough past, I knew exactly how they’d react to a psycho looking, handcuffed, last-time-I-saw-you-I-confessed-to-murder, criminal. And I didn’t want any part of it.

But if that’s how they were gonna see me, I might as well have worn it with pride. I had a reputation to uphold.

I was pushed through the glass doors into the bullpen, and everyone’s eyes snapped to me. I must’ve been quite the sight: disheveled, frizzy braids, cuts and bruises on every visible part of my body (and most non visible parts, too), my orange jumpsuit peeking through the stained, weak excuse they called sweats, not to mention the chains connecting my handcuffs to the links around my ankles. Upon entering, they removed my cuffs, but kept a watchful eye on me as I approached the door to the briefing room. The people behind there were the ones I really cared about. Or, at least, cared even a shard about in comparison to the utter indifference I felt toward everyone else.

I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, long fingers wrapping around my throat.

“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head, preparing myself for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them. His eyes were blood-shot and slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness in them. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and not for me. Not to mention the rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror.

Morgan and Hotch made a move to pull him off of me, but I waved them away. I knew this was coming, and the sooner we got it over with, the sooner we could go back to our new normal. “I was invited.”

“By who?” I could hear the betrayal coating his voice before he even knew who it was.

“You didn’t tell him?” It was Rossi that spoke up.

“I was about to,” Hotch stated, “She showed up a bit earlier than I anticipated.”

Reid just stood there, orbs of fire replacing his eyes. “Let go of me,” I forced out through clenched teeth. He did as I asked, taking a staggering step back and just bore holes into me. I replied with a smirk. “So what do you need me for?”

“As Strauss should have already told you, Maeve is missing and there is reason to believe she’s in danger,” Hotch recited.

“Great. So what do you need me for?” I repeated. They were great profiles, I couldn’t see anything I’d add to the group.

“As you know, there have been people in the past that threatened her safety, and they have been people you’ve had a connection with.”

I arched an eyebrow. “So you think that the person responsible for Maeve’s disappearance is some street rat I’d know?”

“If you want to put it that way, sure,” Hotch confirmed.

“Okay, then you guys have seriously lost brain cells since I left,” I let out a bitter laugh, “There’s no way some rando on the street would care about some lame doctor.” I saw Reid’s posture tighten up, and I didn’t really fancy the idea of being slammed into the wall again, so I shot him a quick, “No offense.”

“What makes you so sure?” Morgan asked.

“Look, all I’m saying, is that I don’t see how she’d hold any value to anyone on the streets. Unless she’s all the sudden a drug lord, running a gang, or saw too much, they wouldn’t care about her. And let’s say for fun she is one of those things, and someone on the streets did take her, she’s already dead,” I pointed out. Reid flinched. “People on the streets don’t play with their food.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Reid hissed.

I shrugged. “I’m just saying. But either way, case closed or start over. Neither of which require me.”

“They might, actually,” Hotch said.

“What now?” I grumbled.

“We might still want to utilize your other skills.”

“And what are those, exactly? You can all profile just fine without me,” I scoffed. “Clearly, you’ve been doing just fine these past 15 months. Speaking of, where is my replacement?”

Looking around the room, I didn’t see Doctor Lewis.

“She’s gone for this one, so we could use another person,” Hotch acknowledged.

“Cool. So find another person.”

“Aundreya, we could use your ability to track down people. We can profile all we want, and have Garcia send us all the information she can dig up, but we need someone who can actually locate them. Someone who knows how to find people without a record or paper trail, who don’t want to be found. And based on the other working profile we have, that’s exactly the type of person we’d be tracking down.”

I let out an annoyed sigh and rolled my eyes. There was no way I was getting out of this, so I forced out, “Fine. Let’s find Reid’s girlfriend.”

The whole room of people, myself included, starting moving with a purpose toward something to do. Everyone except for Doctor Reid. He was just standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, staring at me.

I tried so hard to ignore him, and I was about to say something when Morgan beat me to it, placing a hand on his shoulder and murmuring, “Kid, what’s going on?”

His answer was not directed at Morgan. “Nothing else? That’s it, that’s all you have to say?”

I looked up at him and even I could feel the boredom in my eyes. “What else is there to say?”

After a few deafening moments, he sternly whispered, “Was any of it real?”

I could tell by his face the deeper questions behind it. Did you ever actually care about me? Were you just manipulating and using me the whole time? Was the possibility of ‘us’ just an illusion?

“I could ask you the same question,” I snapped. It suddenly felt like he and I were the only ones in the room, like we were moving across a silver screen while the rest of the team watched from their theatre seats.

“I still wanna know why.”

“Why what? There’s a lot I’ve done, you’re gonna have to be more specific,” I deadpanned.

“All of it. Prison, letting me take the fall, Darrell-”

I stopped him right there. “Inmates kill each other all the time. It was a means of survival. I had to, I couldn’t let you die, and I couldn’t let you be the killer either, now could I? You’re not the damaged one-”

It was his turn to cut me off, and I was surprised by his words, “You're not damaged.”

“What makes you so sure?” I was quick to refute, “Only one of us should have to carry that burden around. And like you said, what’s another name to add to my list?”

“Is that what you were carrying around with you all the time?” Prentiss’s question seemed so genuine, I just answered.

“Yes, that and…” then I realized what she’d just admitted to.

“And what?” she probed.

“Wait, were you guys watching me?” I accused. The silence that followed, along with ‘oh shit’ glances were all I needed. “You were, weren't you! That whole time you just watched? And did nothing to help me!”

“What were we supposed to do?” Morgan joined in.

“Something, anything!” I looked back over to Reid, his hands in his pockets and his eyes still burning up. “Do you even want me on this case?” I was looking for any and every excuse to get out of this room, and away from these people.

“You are a big help,” Hotch intervened.

“I didn’t ask you,” I shot Hotch a glance out of the corner of my eye, then directed my attention back at Reid, enunciating each word carefully, “Do you want me on this case?”

“Why would you ask that?” he dodged.

“Because last time I checked, I was supposed to be staying out of Maeve’s life,” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“You are, but these are extenuating circumstances,” he returned my look.

“So you do want my help,” I clarified.

“I want your skills.”

I let out a disgusted chuckle, venom dripping from my words. “Oh I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in there.”

Reid broke eye contact with me. “All the evidence pointed to you.”

His words sent a shiver up my spine, as the neurons in my brain started firing at rapid speed. I’d heard those words before; rather, I’d seen those words before, and I couldn’t resist reciting what followed. “But the one thing you can’t stop thinking about is what Hotch said the night we got caught?”

His eyes immediately snapped back to mine, looking astonished. “What?”

I set my jaw, and continued, “That you were manipulating me the whole time and I’d fallen into the trap of a professional criminal, even as a profiler. I don’t want to believe that, but maybe it’s true.”

Derek jumped in, “What are you talking about?”

I ignored him. “Maybe you’re the one who’s been using me this whole time. I don’t have the answers, and I don’t think I ever will. Don’t keep tabs on me. I know you have the means to, in whatever capacity, but I don’t want you tracking my life.”

“Stop, Aundreya, please,” he pleaded. If you didn’t want those words getting out, didn’t want your team to realize how vile you could be, you should have thought about that before sending me that letter.

I wasn’t gonna stop. Instead, I started pulling the paper out of my pocket. “I no longer want you to be a part of it. And stay out of Maeve’s, in case you think that’s some twisted loophole you can use. This is no longer your family.” By the end, I felt just a little moisture coming to the surface, but I choked my tears back down.

“What is she talking about?” Morgan insisted.

Reid’s mouth was slightly open, struggling to find the right words to explain this. I wasn’t going to give him the chance. I tossed his letter, folded up to fit in my pocket, on the table. It slid across and stopped right in the middle. “His letter. The piece of paper you saw me walking around with, this is it. My list on one side, his letter on the other.”

“Aundreya-” Reid attempted.

“You didn’t even sign your name,” I shook my head, “You couldn’t even sign your fucking name. It’s pathetic. And just so you know, the evidence pointed toward me because I helped it to.”

“So you did or didn’t want to go to prison?” he asked me.

“Of course I didn’t want to go, Reid,” I answered like it was the dumbest question I’d ever heard.

“Then why'd you take the fall for me?”

“Because you didn’t do it.”

“But neither did you, right?”

It sounded like more of a mockery than a question, but I answered, “Right.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Jesus Spence! I did it because I-” Oh shit.

All eyes were on me as he slowly asked, “You what?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” With that, I stormed out of the room using the back door, and made my way up to the rooftop.

The cool breeze hit me in an instant, and I relished in the fresh air. It’s crazy how easily I took that for granted the three years I was out. I leaned up against the railing as I soaked in this feeling. I wouldn’t get to keep it for long.

I heard the door creak open, and knew who it was before she could even say anything.

“You know, I understand why he’s mad. He thinks I let him sit in prison for something I did, you all do,” I quickly tacked on.

“That’s not true,” Emily’s voice could be so soft sometimes.

“It’s okay, I get why you all believe it. I would have too if I were you. I mean, my whole life has consisted of lying, manipulating, and cheating.” I looked over at her once she’d joined me at the railing. Her face was kind, as if she was inviting me to continue. “I hate everything about it.”

“Is that why your name is on the bottom of that list?”

I hadn’t even thought about them seeing that. Fuck me. “Did you know that Aundreya isn’t even my real name?” I offered instead.

“Alionth?” she guessed.

I gave a single laugh. “No. I was born Clara Spade. I was her all the way up until the Slaughterer saw me. When we went into WITSEC, my name was changed to Cassy Sae. I lived as her until our house burnt down, and I begged Gideon to help me disappear. Cassy Sae died that day with her mom and sister, and I changed my name again to Aundreya Chambers. It was Aundreya who hit the streets and joined a gang. It was Aundreya who was The Figure and moved up the ranks until she ran the joint. When the gang collapsed and I started the ring, I don’t know, I guess I just wanted a new name. A new name had marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life up until that point, why not keep the tradition, you know?” Emily nodded along to my words. “I chose Alionth because I’d already been using that as my stage name at clubs, and a lot of the people I recruited I met at clubs. I actually ran my whole operation out of one, so the name just naturally fell into place. Then I made just about the biggest mistake of my life, which landed me in prison. In prison, most people were street rats, so those who did know me, knew me as Aundreya, so I went back to being her.”

“And who are you now?” she asked me.

I sighed. “I… I have no idea. I’ve been Aundreya for the majority of my life, but I just don’t know if she’s good enough anymore.”

“It’s not about the name. I know you think it does, but the name has nothing to do with who you are.”

“I don’t know, it sure feels like that.”

“It’s not true. Falling into that trap is unwise, it’ll hurt you more than it already has,” her eyes were wide, and I could tell she was trying to read me.

“So you think I’m stupid?” I asked.

“No, the exact opposite actually. I think you are so smart and are looking so many steps ahead, that you can no longer see what’s right in front of you.”

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re afraid.” I scoffed at her, but she was completely serious.

“I am not,” I insisted.

“You are. You’ve been hurt so many times, betrayed even, and now you won’t allow anyone in.” She sounded like she was speaking from experience. The silence hung between us before she said what I’d been waiting on the whole time. “Just tell him.”

“What?” I tried to play it off.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Emily said, in that stern but caring tone she’d mastered. We both knew I knew what she was talking about, and I’d been too hopeful she’d ignore my near-confession only minutes earlier.

“I can’t,” I said, my voice dropping.

“Why not? I think he deserves to know that you lov-”

“Don’t say that,” I cut her off like my life depended on it, “Emily, I’m telling you, I can’t. I can’t do that to him,” my eyes were wide with pleading, and I’m sure I looked like a wild animal in headlights.

“Give me a good reason why.”

You say that as if I haven’t already compiled a list in my head of all the reasons we wouldn’t work over the past three years.

But I opted only for the biggest reason, the one at the very top of my list. “Because I’m terrified that it will kill us both.”

“Huh?”

“Look at us. We’re a disaster! I mean, hell knows, we’ve both already almost died for the other. I don’t want to take the chance that next time we won’t be so lucky,” I explained. And if we aren’t, at least one of us should be able to get out and that person is not me. I could tell there was something else lingering on Emily’s face, but I filled the airspace before she could. “No, I need him to hate me. It’ll be easier this way, because when this goes south, and it will go south, it makes it that much easier for him to just forget about me and move on, move on with Maeve, his great girlfriend who can actually be there for him in a way I haven’t been able to, in a way I don’t even think I’m capable of.”

“I would call going to prison for him ‘being there’ for him, even to an extreme, and I think you should let him make his own choice about how he feels about you,” she gave me a pointed look, “knowing all the facts.”

I shook my head. She just wasn’t getting this. “It’s better this way, trust me, I’ve seen it before, been there before, too many times. It’s better if he already hates me going into this. It would be unfair of me to lay that on him, knowing what I’m going to have to do.”

“And what is that?” I stared at her, open-mouthed, and once she realized I wasn’t going to answer her, she asked, “This is about more than just Maeve, isn’t it?”

Yes. There are people who are hunting me down, and I’m scared shitless that you, and Spencer, and the rest of the team will get caught in the crossfire, and yet again, it will be my fault that practically the only people on this planet I care about, who’ve actually cared about me at some point, will be dead. I wanted so badly to tell her, to get everything off my chest, but I just couldn’t. The less she, and the team, knew, the better.

“Is this about those other two names on the list?”

“You saw that, huh?”

“Yeah. Is that what this is also about? The whole ‘end of the world, protecting Reid’ vibe you have going on?”

I didn’t know how to answer, so again, I just stood there silently.

“It sounds to me like you’re giving up, expecting to die,” Emily filled in the silence.

“I am definitely expecting to die, and I’m expecting it to be nasty, and hateful, and to completely ruin me, yes. But like hell I’m giving up.” I wanted to make that perfectly clear.

“Good. So while I don’t know what else is going on, and you clearly aren’t open to telling me, I do know that Maeve needs our help. Yours specifically. And I can’t imagine how much this sucks for you, but-”

“I know,” I said, nodding, “We have a case.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

While Emily and I were out, the rest of the team had gone back to trying to put pieces together. The moment I walked in the door was the same moment Reid left. JJ walked out after him, but not before giving Emily a knowing look. It’s like they were tag teaming us or something. I tried to blow it off.

“Get anything?” I huffed.

“Maybe…” Derek trailed off.

“What does that mean?”

“We have a list of people we want you to look over,” Rossi said, handing over his tablet.

“Damn, already?” I questioned.

“Have you already forgotten how quickly I work?” Penelope looked over at me with an amused face.

“Well, time hasn’t exactly been my friend as of late so I might be a little rusty, but no, my liege, you just never cease to amaze me.” And with that, I felt some of the tension release from the room. Not much, but I’d take it. I think everyone would take it.

We worked well into the night, looking over people and sending pairs of agents out to question the promising ones, and as I expected, every single one was a dead end.

Until one of them wasn’t.

The boys had just got back from interviewing Robert Putnam’s, Maeve’s fiance, parents.

“He look good for this?” I asked as soon as Hotch stormed into the room, Rossi and Morgan right on his heels. Reid hung back, like we were repelling ends of a magnet.

“I want you on him.” Hotch had barely gotten the command out before I reached for the door handle.

“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid.

I stopped to face him. “Why not?”

“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free and let Maeve…” he cut himself off, and I saw him swallow, probably choking down the tears with it.

“Reid,” Hotch barely drew his attention away from me.

“It’s okay,” I assured Hotch, “I get that you don’t trust me. None of you do. But I need you to make up your mind. Either you want me helping or you don’t.” When I got no more than a few blinks, I continued, “Look, you don’t have to trust me, okay? All you have to trust is my skills. Like you said, I’m a professional at things like this, so I can handle tracking one simple weasel. Not to mention, that if I didn’t want to be here, or I wanted to’ve escaped, I would have done it already. And if you’re worrying about my capacity to actually treat this case with some care, don’t. I already blindly tried to get myself shot for her before I even knew who she was, remember? So if you don’t wanna trust me, great. Don’t. I’m fine with that. But trust my abilities and what I know, what you know, I can do.”

I stared at him so long, that I wondered if small roots started pushing their way into the ground below me.

“Okay. Go,” was all I got, but it was all I needed.

I gave him a single nod, and headed for the door.

I got just a few feet out when Hotch’s voice caught me, “Chambers.”

I spun around to face him. Once he pulled the door shut, I asked, “What’s up?”

“He’ll come around.”

I snorted, “You’re funny, Aaron,” I spoke through laughs, “Got any other good jokes before I head out?”

“I’m serious.” I don’t know what it was in his tone, but it snapped me completely out of it.

“He won’t. I fucked up, real bad, and I broke a promise to him,” I lowered my voice so I was whisper-yelling the next part, “Hell! I killed a man in front of him!”

“We all have,” he nonchalantly stated. The disconnect I was feeling had to have been obvious, and he proceeded, “We shoot people in front of him all the time. We do it to save other people, we’ve even done it to save him a few times. How is it any different?”

My eyes went wide, and I couldn’t believe it was Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner who was saying these things to me right now. “No you don’t understand. I promised people, I promised myself, that that wasn’t who I was anymore. But that's exactly who I am. I said that I wouldn’t do things like that again, and then I did, breaking my promise and proving that I’m exactly the same as I was all those years ago. Someone you, and he, can’t trust.”

“We both know that’s not true.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he just kept going without me, “The way he reacted to you getting arrested that night is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. He looked disgusted with me, after I aided you in your plan to get him out. He said to me, ‘You can’t do this, Hotch, you can’t let this happen!’ He was so hostile that he cussed at me and tried to hit me,” I audibly gasped at this information. I could never see Reid acting like that, but I would know just how much prison changes a person. “Morgan had to restrain him before all the work you’d just done to get him out of prison went to waste on something as stupid as him acting out.”

I didn’t know what to say, “Hotch, I…”

“I knew what you were doing, so while Morgan tried to get him to calm down, I told him that you were giving him an out. We knew that there was a very high likelihood that he was going to die in there, but we knew that you wouldn’t.” He offered a small chuckle then, which totally threw me for a loop.

“What is it, what’s funny?”

“Spencer said that we couldn’t know that, and it was Morgan who said, and I believe he used these exact words, ‘She’s strong. Plus, they’ll want her in solitary, worried that she’ll do much more damage to others than they’ll do to her.’”

Even I had to crack a smile at that. “He’s not wrong.”

“He definitely was not. I think he was still recovering from that nasty black eye you gave him.”

I offered a not-so-regretful grimace.

“One more thing,” I looked up at him as he spoke, his tone returning to that of seriousness. “It doesn’t have to be right now, or within the next couple of months even, but he deserves to know the truth.”

I don’t even know why I tried, but it was my natural reaction to deflect. “What are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t take a profiler to know that memorizing and reciting the only piece of contact you’ve had with him verbatim shows how much you care about him and what he thinks of you. And based on the sole fact that you don’t really seem to care at all what anyone thinks of you, that speaks volumes.”

I stood there blinking at him for a moment or two before having my wits come back to me. I started to shake my head, but he continued to speak.

“Do you really want to prove that you’re not like that anymore, that you’ve changed?”

He always seemed to know the right questions. I nodded my head, “Yes.”

The great Aaron Hotchner looked me straight in the eyes, “Then go catch this killer.”

Series Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

@kris-stuff

@blameitonthenight21

@wooya1224

@unded-bride

26 notes · View notes

pansexualseaanimals · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9 Sneak Peeks ‘Cause You Deserve It

Hey guess what? I’m still alive! I haven’t been writing for a while because these past few chapters have kind of been making me face things about my own life that I hadn’t given due time to address and manage (especially Pyxis and Rory’s thoughts on how parents can “love you but not want you”, and stuff said by multiple people in chapter 9, the one I’m still writing) so I kinda just dealt with those thoughts and came to conclusions and stuff in my own mind while I endlessly binged anime and video games. Not that I don’t normally do that, mind you, but I did it a lot more and not much else.

Luckily, I live in a wonderful gorgeous apartment in my favorite town I’ve ever lived in (the only town I’ve ever called home, in fact! At least, in this world!) and it’s super comfortable and I live with my best friend who is way too good of a roommate if I must be frank - I’d rather be Columbia, honestly - and life has been relatively super good, so like. Don’t worry! I’m so happy in my life the way it is! I’m back home in the Midwest, surrounded by beauty and friends who’ve helped me out more than I could ever ask (but I did, let’s not lie lol) and... I still have depression and I’m working on that and planning on getting a doctor soon, but... I’m starting new good habits, getting into things I’ve been wanting to try, and yeah... I’m rambling at this point so I’ll make the rest quick.

I wanted to give sneak peeks because it’s been SO LONG and I don’t know how many people really actually read this thing? Like, “I’m excited that there’s a new chapter” kind of peeps? But no matter how few there are, you guys all deserve something nice, and this was all I could think of. Instead of just posting one scene, I’ll post a few clips from a bunch of scenes. Everything is subject to change as I keep writing, so it might not match the finished product, but... That just means you guys are extra-special! Heehee! ^__^

Excerpts are below the read-more cut. Hope it’s enjoyable!

\/\/\/\/\/

"Oh, I've got twenty-five coins for the sea show clanking in the backseat, whoa-oh. I've got thirty-two seashells lined up in a row..." Caurel happily sang as she covered the turquoise side in pink, pausing and hiding in a corner when she noticed Zebra rising out of the spawn pool. The younger Inkling, hesitant, flung her brush wildly to cover the pink ink and swam forward, repeating the process every few feet. When she dropped down to the valley, she triggered another Ink Mine, this time getting away just quickly enough.

"Not falling for that again," they sighed... right before Caurel popped out of her corner and slashed her brush at her, sending her floating right back to the spawn point. Unable to keep from giggling, Caurel re-inked the entrance ramp and climbed up to the higher level, brushing quickly down the alley as Zebra respawned again.

"And I'll swim, swim, swim, to my darling Martha... And let her lay me down in the bay where the warm winds blow~"

"Are we singing the same song?" Penny shouted from the audience, loud enough to be heard over the stage music.

"'Martha's Bay' by the Seagulls?" Caurel shouted back for confirmation.

"I knew it! Ahhh, I love you!"

"I love you, too, Butterfly!"

"Boooo!" Rocky shouted as he took out Thresher. "Get a room!"

"But their love for each other is like our love," Ankyr said with a wink.

"You really are a sea turtle."

"Hey, only Pyxis can call me-" SPLASH! Ankyr fell prey to Bonnet's Heavy Splatling.

"FOR ANKYR!" Rocky jumped up and flung his roller down before rolling toward Bonnet - and getting caught in a freshly thrown Splash Wall.

"I love it when he does that," Tiger squeaked.

\/\/\/\/\/

"What took you so long? Why did you trade Ankyr for these randos?"

"Rocky," Caurel sighed. "They're the friends we were supposed to meet today, remember?"

"Oh..."

"Guys, this is Rocky, our squad's leader," Pyxis laughed.

"Nice to meet you," Carina said, stepping forward to shake Rocky's hand. "Don't worry, my 'boyfriend' will be back soon."

"'BOYFRIEND'?" The entire crowd turned their attention to the charismatic newcomer.

"It's just an inside joke," Pyxis hastily assured them. "You'd just have to be there."

"Yeah, he kind of saved me a lot of hassle," Carina shrugged.

"My Sunshine has inside jokes with people I don't know," Moises thought out loud. "Not sure how I feel about this..."

"Well, you know us now," Hans piped up. "She's Carina, I'm Hans, this here is Shera, and the rude guy is Cygnus."

"I haven't said anything rude yet!"

"We all know you will," Shera said as she scooched over to Abbey. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm aromantic," Abbey said between sips of coffee. Their friends howled with laughter in the background.

"Aw, that's too bad... Are you... asexual, too?"

"They're not sex-repulsed, if that's what you mean," Pyxis jumped in. "That's not what asexual means, though."

"Sweet little Pyxis," Cygnus chuckled, patting his friend on the head. "Always here to educate her friends."

"...You mean their friends," Rocky corrected.

"What? No. You too? Are all Squids okay with the whole fluid-gender thing?"

"You didn't even last five minutes," Hans sighed, covering his face with his palm.

"Look, she was born with lady-parts, am I wrong or am I right?"

"Here's what I know," Rocky began slowly, stepping closer to the Octoling and staring him in the eye. "This particular group of friends respects what people choose to call themselves. When you're with us, you refer to Pyxis as they/them. If you can't handle that, you can swim back home."

"ROCKY!" Caurel grabbed her brother's arm and yanked him down to sit beside her. "They're our guests!"

"And Pyxis is family," he bit back. "Which is more important to you?"

"Wow, they really worship you around here," Cygnus laughed, turning to leave. "Do they even really know you? Your history? What have you been telling them?"

"Cygnus, get back here and act your age," Carina commanded.

"No thanks, Your Majesty."

The crowd was hushed for some time, the noises of the audience around them and the battle down below, permeating their silent space.

"Sorry about that," Carina finally spoke up. "I told him to behave himself. But he's... how do you say... stuck in his ways."

"He's only twenty-two," Shera rolled her eyes. "He's just a stubborn pufferfish."

"You okay, honey?" Hans asked Pyxis, who was too busy processing their own thoughts to realize they should answer.

"...I'm family?"

\/\/\/\/\/

And now, here’s Shera going goo-goo over more Inklings

---

“Vanilla? Is that a brand, or...?"

"Oh no, I just mean, the original one."

"So... Vanilla means original?"

"The basic form of something, yes. Regular. It's just slang."

"Who's the person with the gatling?"

"Ah, that's Pixie with the Zink Mini Splatling. Disruptor and Bubbler."

"Pixie..." Shera turned to where Pyxis was seated. "PIXIE!"

"Yes?"

"I can never call you Pixie again! That's the name of my new future wife!" Ecto and Thresher couldn't help but laugh.

"...Glad to hear it?"

"She's actually dating Ty right now," Tandy pointed out. "Sorry, you'll have to look elsewhere."

"Darn."

"Great Overseer," Carina sighed. "Why are you so thirsty today?"

"I dunno, Queenie," Shera shrugged and shook her head. "Look. I had no idea Squidlings could be so attractive, okay?"

"I mean, she's not wrong," Hans laughed. "The first time I saw Ankyr..."

"YOU CAN DO IT, GUYS!" Pyxis suddenly stood up and cheered as loud as they could.

\/\/\/\/\/

And now for some good parents! Specifically, Ecto’s dads. Well, one of them. The other is busy playing Pokémon with Caurel and co. in the living room at this moment. They haven’t been mentioned much so far, but they’re great friends with the Waters (Waters’? Waterss?) ever since all the families met, and Rocky and Caurel hang out with them a lot.

---

"That's because you can look back on the past, apply your knowledge of the present, and cook up a better future for yourself. A new happiness. Again, one that won't last forever. And maybe it's not perfect. Maybe you burn your tongue. Maybe you let it go cold without realizing. But there'll always be more soup."

"You just have an answer for everything, don't you?" Rocky scoffed, throwing more tomatoes into the pot.

"Not quite. There's one thing I've always wondered."

"The secret of life?"

"Nah, figured that out in college."

"What? No. Shut up." The two shared a laugh. Mister Plasma reduced the burner's heat and placed a lid on the pot, before turning to Rocky.

"Back when you were in Coral Reef's boat... Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well..." Rocky took a moment to continue. "Figured there wasn't any point, I guess. Can't help it if the person you have a crush on is gay. Like, if Pop was het, you wouldn't have the love of your life."

"Well I'm glad that's not the case," he said with a short laugh, before frowning and patting Rocky on the head. "Sorry, hon."

"It's fine. That's one of those 'just move on' parts in life. So I did."

"Ah..."

"Happened with Ankyr, too. But that was back when we were super tiny. Like.. That's a different kind of love. Baby love, I guess. But then again, we thought Ankyr was a girl back then. That was easier to move on from."

"You just can't catch a break," Dad laughed. "Anyone on your mind these days?" Rocky thought a while before answering.

"I... Not really. I don't know, Oji. Guess I'm kind of giving up for now. I just wanna cook and take care of the ocean. Those are my loves. Well, I'll never get tired of Turf War either. I guess... that's it."

"And that's A-okay," the adult Inkling nodded, before yelling "COME AND GET IT!" There was a multitude of shuffling sounds from the living room as the young adults made their way to the kitchen. "Come see us any time," he said again. "We'll always be here for you."

\/\/\/\/\/

And that’s all I have for you here today, I wanna stop myself before I give away more than I might have given away... But yeah, working on that slowly but surely now. I was already about halfway-ish done with the chapter before I fell off, I think? Depends if I think of adding any more scenes than what’s already planned. So, look forward to that soon! Catch you on the flip side~

P.S.: As a reminder, this is the second-to-last chapter I’m writing; after 10 is over, we’ll be moving on to the second book in the series, which will hopefully have much better pacing and will definitely be a lot different, but still be about the lives of Pyxis, Ankyr, and their loved ones - that will never change. Some of your favorite characters might not be around as much in book 2, some might get a spotlight where they hadn’t before, and of course we’ll meet lots of new friends, and you’ll just have to decide what you think of each of them. :3 But I hope you have fun. Regardless of anything, thanks for reading. If you’ve read any of Look Alive, Sunshine, you have my Heart Containers, and my eternal gratitude. Please let me know what you think, if you’ve got the time. Love & hugs!

#Splatoon #fanfic #excerpts #sneak peek #Look Alive Sunshine #mine #Pyxis Arcturus #Ankyr Moreta #True Lives #Turf War #Inkling #Octoling #writing talk

5 notes · View notes

catchingfeels · 4 years

Text

Just Friends

summary: jj and the reader have been friends forever, but recently they’ve drifted apart. when y/n tries to reconnect, she finds out what jj’s been avoiding.

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

the sun burned overhead as y/n walked out of Mike’s Market, the place of her summer job. her skin felt sticky and she was dying to trade her work uniform for a bikini and cutoff shorts.

“bye, Mike!” she called to the grey haired man as she walked towards the street. Mike’s was just a few miles from Figure Eight, smack dab in the middle of the Kooks and the Pogues. with rare treats like mexican style icecream and chocolate imported from Belgium, the Market saw customers from all sides of the island.

y/n grew up on the cut, sort of a misfit as she didn’t like to surf and parties weren’t her favorite. but on the first day of seventh grade, she found a band of misfits like herself: john b, kiara, pope, and jj. the pogues were goofy, mischievous, and welcoming. with them, y/n could chill on the beach all day and go raise hell all night. it was the best of both worlds.

as she walked out of the Market, she thought about what her and the pogues would do with the rest of the day. the options were endless, really, with the marsh full of summertime fish and parties planned for the next few weeks. summer was the best time to be a pogue, the best time to be on the island, in fact. no school, no rules, just fun.

her walk to the chateau, john b’s house, was sweltering. by the time she got to the porch, her brow was beaded with sweat and her cheeks were flushed a cherry red. she opened the screen door, and though she wasn’t welcomed by an air conditioned room (nobody on the Cut had AC), she was thankful to be out of the beating sun.

kicking her shoes off, y/n looked up to see jj’s blonde hair peeking over the arm of the couch. the boy was sprawled out, arms dangling, gaze focused at the ceiling fan.

“you know, staring at it won’t make it go faster, jj” y/n teased.

“ughhh why’s it gotta be so damn hot” jj groaned, not moving from his position.

“i dont know, maybe its because its august?” y/n ventured, hearing a mumbled “smartass” from jj. “hey, maybe after i get changed, we could go down to the dock, take a swim?” y’n asked.

again, jj didn’t move, dully replying, “yeah, maybe.”

sighing, y/n walked to the guest room to change. her and jj had always been best friends, inseparable since the day they met. though y/n seemed quiet and square, she had a wild side, and jj nurtured that. they were always getting into trouble together, often resulting in both of them running from the cops then laughing until they couldn’t breathe. life was... exhilarating when y/n was with jj, and she loved that she had jj as her ride or die.

lately, however, jj seemed distant. at all the parties they went to, he’d disappear within an hour with some random girl, which wasn’t unusual, but he never bragged about it the next day like he usually did. with a kegger at the boneyard tonight, y/n was sure the routine wouldn’t change. still, she was worried about him, about his decisions to skip out on fishing, about his need to lay on the couch all day. something was up, and y/n wanted to get jj out of the funk he was in.

finally free of her full length khakis and tweed shirt (”khakis are classy” Mike insisted) y/n joined jj in the living room.

“ready?” she asked the blonde, who now had his eyes closed.

“nah, i’m not really feeling up for a swim today,” jj countered.

y/n paused as jj rolled over, not meeting her gaze.

“jj, come on, it’s hot in here, the water’s cool, just get off the stupid couch and swim with me,” y/n reasoned, walking towards jj, “if i have to drag you off this couch, i will.”

a low groan came from jj as he rolled over, meeting her gaze for the first time that afternoon.

“look, i said i’m not feeling it. just go without me, ok?” his eyes held an unreadable emotion, and y/n didn’t miss it.

“i’m not going swimming by myself, jj,” y/n crossed her arms, ready to live up to her mom’s claims that she was as stubborn as a mule.

jj rolled his eyes, “well then i guess you’re not going at all.”

“jj--”

“not happening. i’m not your chaperone, ok, newsflash--it’s ok to do stuff without me” jj spit, returning his gaze to the ceiling.

“what the hell does that mean jj?” y/n could feel anger and hurt rising like bile in her stomach.

“it means--” jj sputtered, “it means what i said it means! now just go swim, or go somewhere, i don’t really care as long as its not here.” glancing over as y/n, seeing the hurt in her eyes, jj half-heartedly added, “i want to sleep before everyone else comes.”

tears stung the corners of her eyes as y/n growled, “you know what, fine. i don’t want to hang out an asshole anyways. so just go to sleep, stay on the couch, rest up for the next rando you’ll be hooking up with tonight, i’m sure you need the energy. oh, and newsflash for you: you can’t just bury your problems by being a dick and fucking every girl on this island.”

y/n spun around, storming out of the room, fighting back her tears.

“i’m not burying my problems, dammit!” jj shouted, sitting up on the couch.

y/n whirled around again, “then what are you doing, huh? proving your masculinity, earning a reputation?”

“god, y/n, cut the bitchiness! i can hook up with who i want, when i want.”

“and you sure do,” y/n replied, voice shaking. a tear slipped down y/n’s cheek and she wiped it away furiously. “i hope you have fun tonight.”

“yeah, well, i won’t.” jj’s voice was a bit softer, but still sharp. y/n just looked at him, shaking her head. “i won’t, because every girl i take, everything i do, i just wish--”

“wish what, jj?’ y/n hadn’t wanted to continue the conversation, but something in jj’s voice begged her to stay.

“I wish it was with you.” he admitted, hanging his head.

y/n could feel her stomach drop at his confession. he sank back down onto the couch, and y/n stepped back into the living room, still processing what he just said.

“hold on, are you saying you want to have sex with me, maybank?” she looked him dead in the eyes, which sparked at her reply.

“no--no, that’s not what i meant, y/n. well, i mean, i’m not saying no, but no” he babbled.

“then what did you mean?” y/n sat on the floor, looking at the blonde boy before her. his golden hair flopping into his eyes, which sparkled a gorgeous crystal blue in the sunlight. his jaw muscles tensed and his brow furrowed as he thought about his reply.

“i meant, i want more, with you. i want to be with you and do everything with you and i want you to mine,” he sighed, “but that’s so fucked up because we’re just friends, and you clearly don’t want --”

“kiss me, jj,” y/n interrupted jj before he could get too in his head.

“what?” he looked at her, shocked.

“you heard me,” she whispered, leaning closer. she could see his eyes spark at her request, and he began closing the distance between them.

his lips met hers delicately, hesitantly. y/n moved her hands to jj’s golden locks, pulling him closer. his hands cupped her face and he deepened the kiss, sighing into her touch. she tugged at his hair, allowing him to slip his tongue in her mouth. his arms trailed up and down her arms, his hands soft and strong. his kiss was needy, passionate, yet gentle.

she pulled away, both breathing hard. resting her forehead against his, she smiled, “now i don’t know about you, but “just friends” don’t kiss each other like that.”

jj placed a soft kiss against her forehead, eyes bright, hands still holding onto y/n waist.

“c’mon, let’s go for that swim,” he smirked, pulling her towards him.

#Outer Banks #jj fanfiction #jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank #obx #obxstuff

49 notes · View notes

sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-shelby · 4 years

Text

Possibly my most epic DnD session yet! (now with sloppy illustrations!)

****Late-game spoilers for Hoard of the Dragon Queen****

I play as Killian Lyle. Level 6 human fighter, eldritch knight, lawful good. +4 str, con. -2 cha. You know the type.

Others in the party are: Rat-Rat, the forest gnome druid. Syrris, the wood-elf rogue. Montagor, the half-elf bard.

So, the last thing Killian did the session before was reenter a tavern our party got kicked out of and try to bribe the tavern keeper to help us get past some baddies. Big tough-looking tavern keeper grabs his weapon. *Roll initiative* End of session.

In Killian’s hands were a shield and a loaf of bread he had recently been served in that tavern. He was alone, the rest of his party discussing plans outside. We all rolled initiative, but only Killian was aware there was going to be combat so far. A couple of the party members got to go first. Basically just wandered town square, taking in surroundings. There are a whole bunch enemy guards nearby, watching, but not picking a fight with the group.

Killian’s turn. He steps forward and tries to FORCE THE LOAF OF BREAD INTO THE GUYS MOUTH to catch him off-guard and maybe keep him quiet for a second. SMASHING SUCCESS! Guy is unable to stop me from jamming those carbs down his throat and drops his weapon. I bonus action my sword to my hand.

Tavern-keeper’s turn. DM has the guy do a con save to make sure he doesn’t CHOKE TO DEATH AND DIE! *shit, shit, I didn’t want to kill him!!!* Luckily he saves and is able to clear his airway of bread. He starts swinging fists and misses.

Keep going in initiative order. Guest calls out “HES FIGHTING THE BARTENDER!” Most guests at the tavern flee upstairs, but 2 pull daggers and join in. Montagor the bard hears some commotion and opens the door to see Killian shoving bread down the tavern-keeper’s throat and other people moving in with weapon’s drawn. Tries playing the bagpipes nice and loud for extra diversion, but nat 1′s and pops the bag. Syrris the rogue comes in and starts quietly and *permanently* eliminating anyone attacking with a weapon. Killian tries multiple times to thunk the tavern-keeper on the head with the hilt of his sword well enough to knock him out, but the dude keeps fighting. Poor guy can’t make a single hit though.

This fight’s going longer than Killian was hoping. He tries a different tactic: INTIMIDATE. Another smashing success. Like a 19 or something, since intimidate is his one charisma-based skill that doesn’t get a negative modifier. BARTENDER GETS A NAT 1! Surrenders. Killian backs off just before the Captain of the group of enemies walks in.

“WHAT”S GOING ON IN HERE!?”

Killian gambles on deception. NAT 20 “Some guys were fighting the tavern-keeper. We helped. They’re dead now.”

Intimidated tavern-keeper nods, says they were going to rob him.

Enemy captain thanks us for protecting his friend and leaves. WOW, DODGED A BULLET THERE!

We head out too, Killian dropping a couple of gold coins for the tavern-keeper as he heads out, and start looking for a good way to get past the guards. We’re trying to get into a GIANT ICE CASTLE that’s about to FLY AWAY. Time’s running out. I’m not sneaky, but we’re about to give it a try, see if our amazing rolls continue. We decide to peek in the giant stable that had HUGE REPTILIAN GROWLS coming from it. This would either be really bad or really good for us.

Really good! Tied-up wyverns along one wall, riding harnesses on the other. The ice castle begins to take off. Guess we’re doing this! We smell the stink of meat from a nearby building. The rogue is unable to carry a full pig carcass herself. Killian goes to help. NAT 20! Throws a pig over one shoulder, and a sheep over the other and marches off toward the wyverns. Killian has crap animal handling skills, but Rat-Rat the druid doesn’t. Killian keeps the things distracted with bites of meat, Rat-Rat puts the harnesses on them with great success. We climb on, again without incident. And Rat-Rat is apparently a natural-born dragon-rider because he came up with an incredible plan that worked without a hitch.

Minor-illusion the image of a fat turkey, flying just out of reach of the wyvern. Bard prestidigitation’s the smell of juicy meat coming off the “turkey”. Wyverns were eager to follow. Probably more complicated than it needed to be, but hey, it has pizzazz!

We are able to catch up to the ice castle and land they wyverns near another stable that they seemed trained to fly to. Looking around, ogres and kobolds seem to pay us no mind. Guess randos flying in on the backs of dragon things is a normal sight around here. But as it starts getting dark, creatures seem to hurry their tasks and make their way indoors. We figure we’d better do so as well. Quietly enter the first door we approach. Amazingly, nobody’s there. Not out and about anyway. There’s a comfortably furnished room right when we walk through the door, but we decide to keep exploring. Rat-Rat casts detect magic. The comfortable room has an illusory wall to an outside platform, but nothing else of note.

We hear a familiar voice arguing with another voice in another room. A wizard we’d rather not exchange blows with if we can help it. Luckily, according to the DM’s dice rolls, they notice nothing.

Then, further down the hall we heard another familiar voice. Rezmir, the dragonborn cult leader we’ve been tracking for MONTHS. Basically in the first spot we look. Wow, really? And none of us are hurt. Most of us have all of our spell slots and other abilities still available to us. Could this be more perfect? Rat-Rat does see a bit of magic in the room in the last moments before his spell times out, but that’s to be expected, right?

There is a lock.“It looks much more complicated than any lock you’ve encountered before”, the DM tells us. But our rogue is pretty skilled in her arts. She decides to give it a try.

“With my modifier that was a 30.″ Huh. What luck. DM said later that was a DC 25 lock.

Rezmir was inside, sitting on her bed in her pajamas, just loving on her doggos. I mean attack drakes. Not paying us any mind whatsoever. *roll initiative*

Syrris goes first. Perfect opportunity for an assassination with her poison dagger and all those extra dice rolls she gets in just this sort of situation. She steps into the room and is SNATCHED UP AND HELD DOWN BY A SENTIENT AREA RUG! I should’ve drawn this part too because I can’t help but imagine the magic carpet from Aladdin wrestling the elf.

Anyway, fighting then ensues. Attack drakes come running, keeping the rest of the party besides the rogue out in the hall. Rezmir starts out unarmed, and shoots off a scary-looking spell at our bard. It misses and melts the wall behind him. Thank goodness it missed. Rogue takes 2 turns escaping the rug, Rezmir runs for her sword across the room. Rat-Rat’s moonbeaming Rezmir rather successfully. Killian and the Montagor are mostly in melee with the drakes, but Killian did start with a firebolt to Rezmir’s face. This fight hurts, both sides taking plenty of damage.

The rogue is taking the brunt of the damage trapped inside the bedroom with the dragonborn and that mean magic carpet. She takes it like a champ, but there’s a turn for the worse when she’s ready for healing. The bard’s starts coming to her aid, and she takes more damage, this time from the sword. Healing has no effect from that point.... The sword did something to stop her from regaining hit points, and after the significant damage from its blade, that’s bad news.

Bard and Rogue get caught in a breath attack, and the rogue goes down. Killian and Rat-Rat are still outside of the room, Killian around a corner and can’t actually see Rezmir from where he’s at. Shit. We still have one drake remaining. Killian tries his best with two attacks to eliminate it, but does min damage on both and it remains standing. Fuck it. Time for an Action Surge. Moves past the drake to where he’s in melee with Rezmir herself, stepping out from around the corner. Double attack again. Hits on both. NAT 20 ON THE SECOND!

“How did it happen?”, the DM asks. I’m floored that I managed to down her in that hit.

“Killian steps around the corner, swinging his sword to where her saw the breath attack originate, slicing through her pajamas into the scales beneath. He then makes eye contact with her and sees the recognition in her face as she looks his way in surprise, even as he’s pulling back his sword for a second strike. Killian lunges full-force, plunging the sword right through her before she has the chance to react.”

“FOOLS!”, she cries out with her final breath as she disintegrates into ash, her sword and a couple of keys clanging to the floor where she had stood. Simultaneously an ornate chest in the far corner of the room violently explodes, destroying anything that might’ve been inside.

We rush to the Syrris, and Rat-Rat stabilizes her. Killian places her on the bed to rest. Then eyes turn toward the items Rezmir left behind. Killian voices that the rogue won’t be pleased to see the chest exploded when she regains consciousness, but doesn’t personally care much that the loot is no more. The party uses one of the keys in the pile of ash that was Rezmir to relock the room so they can use the comfortable chamber for a night of recuperation before continuing venturing back into the castle.

“Killian, I think you’re the only one of us that could wield that sword.”, Rat-Rat squeaks, pointing to the one remaining object on the ground.

The sword is jagged and black with a purple crystal in the hilt. Something about it makes Killian uneasy.

Killian replies, “A greatsword... Doesn’t really suit my fighting style. But it seems a powerful blade. ” Then he picks it up off the floor feeling powerful magic coursing through it, and hears a voice in his head.

“Hello”, the sword whispers, darkly. “You enjoyed that kill, didn’t you.”

Oh man, having my lawful good, magic fanatic, fighter boy weigh the benefits of wielding a legendary magical sword of untold power, against the moral drawback of it being intelligent and EVIL is going to be a wild ride. He has attuned to it, and we’ll see where this takes us.

I’m still reeling from all the amazing things that happened in this session. What a day for Killian in particular.

#dnd #dnd stories #dnd art #dungeons and dragons #human fighter #eldrtich knight #hoard of the dragon queen #dnd story #rezmir #dnd comic #magic weapon #dnd adventures #sketch #fighter #hotdq

21 notes · View notes

kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years

Text

Dandelion

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: College AU, Enemies->Friends->Lovers, Fluff

Warning(s?): Mentions of Drinking/Smoking, Jimin’s Tattoo

Words: 9.7k

Summary: Park Jimin was a hot topic name floating around campus on the daily. Always seen with a girl at his hip with a different girl on his thigh just a few days later. Rumor has it he’s never had a fling with one girl lasting longer than a week. With your gossip-addicted best friend and his friendship with Jimin, Jimin comes to learn about you. A week isn’t so hard sticking around one girl, the hardest part is when day 7 stars approaching. So, he decides he wants to make a wish instead. Wishing on a dandelion has to work.

a/n: this is sloppy bc I did it all in one sitting and I apologize

“I heard Jimin broke up with his girlfriend!” The first thing you were greeted with at lunchtime and it was your overly excited, sparkly-eyed best friend. He was always the one to get any and all gossip he could just because he wanted to be part of the circle of gaudy gossip. You could care less about half the bull that comes out of his mouth.

“And why would I care? What, is it his longest lasting relationship or something. Wow, 5 days with the same chick, whoop-dee-doo.” You slid into a cafeteria, blue chair unloading the tray filled with two wrapped chicken sandwiches and a styrofoam bowl of strawberries.

“Oh come on, you can’t deny that it’s odd. There’s talk about him actually liking this one, maybe he’ll go back in for a double dip.”

You gagged. “Eugh, can’t you go and tatter off to your other friends? I don’t wanna hear anything about Jimin’s sex life, Jackson.”

Jackson slumped over in the seat next to you as he sighed dramatically into the air. He would always act like you just kicked over a tower of legos he spent 4 hours building whenever you would blatantly refuse to care about his gossip. It was no surprise that Jackson knew all the haps of anything ever. He was a people person, who knew everyone ever it seemed.

If you called some random number over in LA, you had no doubt if you mentioned Jackson, they would answer back ‘oh, yeah I know him!’. He’s been everywhere and you were always curious as to why. He wasn’t a homebody by any stretch.

“I can’t talk to other people about his hips girl, all because they’ve all been with him before. You- albeit- haven’t! So, I can talk to you about him with a clean slate honey.”

“That reasoning and your stupid use of pet names have no correlation of why I need to hear it and I’ve also revoked your drunk stay over privilege until next Monday.”

Jackson gapped at you.

“Your couch is my drunk home! Don’t evict me you, she-devil!” He whapped at your shoulder and swapped right back to the topic at hand. “Besides, I’m his friend, why aren’t you?”

“Do you really have to ask? He doesn’t know I exist for one and I’d like to keep it that way. All he’s gonna do is try and wedge his half-dollar-coin-sized dick between my legs.”

“Sometimes, you really do need to get laid.”

“If you don't think I won’t knee him in the balls if he comes even within a 4-foot radius of me, you’re wrong.”

Sensing the conversation die, Jackson finally moved onto a different topic altogether. Even if the topic shifted from Jimin, the conversation he yapped your off about how unsanitary the school campuses bathroom is, was still far from welcome.

Munching on your food, and nearly finished Jackson stopped his yammering when someone clapped his shoulder. Looking over his shoulder, he busted out into laughter at the irony as you could see their figure in the corner of your eyes. Only offering a small and short eyeroll.

Park Jimin stood behind Jackson, his hand on his hip with a pair of shades and a beanie on his blonde head. His leather jacket covered his yellow flannel that hid his white tee with his jeans that were ripped at the thigh. His biker boots were worn and frankly needed some care to them.

You remain unbothered and silent as the two began to speak to another.

“I was told to pass along the message,” Jimin said as he held out a small scrap of folded paper. Taking it with a pluck, Jackson flipped it open and scanned the words written along it.

“Right on, right on. Whose place is this one at?”

“Jin’s setting us up.” Jackson whistled with a smirk.

“Of course. Mr. Connections, always pulling through.”

Jimin nodded, Seokjin always had connections. Be it with a house to throw parties or what flower shop to go to when your little 3-year-old niece wants a bouquet of daisies for her birthday. He always had a go-to. Perks of being a rich kid who knew any and everyone with the social skills to back you up. You’ve even asked him once if he knew a place in town that sold old, used textbooks. He was cocky about it, but at least he gave you an answer and a promise to save some money.

“Friday at 8. Don’t forget like last time and show up at 3 when everyone is already passed out or getting fucked in a room, yeah?” Jimin quipped with a smirk on his face. Jackson only rolled his eyes as he swiveled around to you, shoving the paper in your face as you popped a strawberry in your mouth.

Reading the words in sloppy handwriting, it looked like a kindergartner wrote it. It just showed a location, a time and date. Probably all the for party that you assumed to two were fawning over. You shifted your eyes to look over the paper into Jackson’s face. A gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face. Far too suspicious.

“Why am I looking at this?”

“You’ve gotta come with me!” You rolled your eyes as slapped the top of his hand, making him retracted it and rub at the skin with a pout. “Rude,” he muttered.

“If you think I’d enjoy being in a loud, sweaty, drunken club with all your frat friends looking for a night less than 20$ and 5 shots, you really need to revoke your friendship with me. I’d rather stare directly into a high voltage flashlight for 2 hours and go blind, thanks.”

You popped another strawberry into your mouth as Jackson laid his head down on the table and looked at you. Lips pouted and eyelashes fluttering like a damsel in distress.

“Please?”

“Not happening.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Jackson!”

“Okay okay,” he reasoned before he sat up and snapped his fingers. A stupid plan forming in his head, you could feel it. “How about it’ll be a favor for me? I’ll owe you one!” You sighed as you rubbed your forehead. He was such a headache. “Please, I won’t ask anything more for the rest of the month plus I’ll even owe you a favor. Any favor, you know I'm down for anything.”

“So long as it doesn’t end up with you sitting in a holding cell?” You quipped with a smile as you remember back in high school he was running around town, causing all sorts of trouble with beer on his brain instead of logic.

“That was a long time ago! Let it die!” He whined.

As the two of you bickered, the both of you had failed to register Jimin still stood at the table. Jimin knew a lot of the student body, even if the campus and college were diverse and huge. Though, he hadn’t seen you before. Arguing with Jackson about not wanting to come to a world-class frat party was amusing enough. The fact that you seemed to know Jackson already, only made it better. You probably had so much dirt on him it was laughable.

You seemed stubborn, probably annoyingly so. He moved to rest his rear on the table top, lounging with one leg propped up as he watched you two. He wasn’t needed here, he wasn’t required to stay and listen in on a conversation that had literally nothing to do with him.

Yet, he was intrigued all the same. Then, you noticed him.

You peeked around Jackson as you threw the last strawberry from your bowl into your mouth, the red from the fruit staining your lips in a way he wanted to forget, but somehow knew he wouldn’t.

“Can we help you?” You asked in a spiteful manner. He lifted his hands in defense.

“Oh no, carry on. This is fun,” he replied as you rolled your eyes. “Besides,” he started again, “it’s just a party. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Some of us have other things to do believe it or not. Maybe I’m not into alcohol, or maybe I’m just not a party person. Ever think of that genius?”

He hissed in a playful manner, dramatically clutching his chest.

“That stings. And to think I was inviting you.”

“No, Jackson was inviting me.”

“But, I invited him. So through correlation, I am the mastermind.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed as Jackson bit his lip in amusement. He knew Jimin had no idea who you were, yet he was chatting you up like you’ve been talking for a week. “I don’t really want to take an invite from some rando guy who hops from girl to girl like frogs from lily pads. Please shut up.”

Before anything else, you looked at the watch face on your wrist and pushed out your chair. Loading the tray with your trash and empty strawberry-stained bowl, you slung your bag over your shoulder. Jackson stood up as well, taking the tray from you as you huffed.

“I’ll take your trash,” he kindly said. It was suspicious once again, but you’d allow it. “You’re going to work on your camera right? Didn’t you get a new one?” You nodded.

“I did. I was going to go back to the dorms and fiddle with it. I don’t have another lecture until 4, so I can afford some practice photos.” He nodded.

“Make sure to take a photo of a dandelion and show it to me first!”

“What if I wanted to show my roommate?”

“You know she won’t be there. She’s always out late.”

“You’re right,” you added with a playful smirk. She worked late and after that, she always had something to do. It was a good night when she came sauntering into the dorm at 2 AM.

“Go on, shoo you, little photographer, you.” You shook your head with a chuckle and began to walk off. Swerving around chairs and people, you plugged your headphones into your phone and placed your sound muffling cuffs over your head and toned out the world. Leaving the cafeteria, the school and then to the campus grounds.

Jackson as he said, dealt with your trash as Jimin hopped up from his seat on the table top and meandered his way back through the cafeteria to his mob of friends. All talking about one thing or another.

All Jimin could think about as he drummed his fingers on his arms was how to convince you to come to the party on Friday. He had something he wanted to know about and, quite frankly, he felt like you inadvertently challenged him. So, of course, he had to prove a point now.

Having someone banging on your door Friday evening at 6 PM was something you surely didn’t want to deal with. Already cozy with one of your old hoodies and a pair of shorts with your hair a damp mess from your shower earlier on, you were lounging on your couch flipping through TV channels utterly bored.

Jackson had spammed you with text after text trying to convince you to come to the party. He tried every bribe in the book, but you just would not yield. You only assumed that Jackson was the one pounding down your dorm door, but when it didn’t stop and your phone never chimed with a text to let him in, you grew curious.

Growing tired of the constant bangs that didn’t seem to stop anytime soon, you rolled off the couch and stomped to the door, swinging it open without even peeking through the peephole who is inside. Ready to be met with your best friend's face, yet not so.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself. There, in front of you and your dorm room who just shoved his way past your shoulder to saunter inside was Park Jimin himself. “Um, excuse me?”

He, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his mint green windbreaker, turned to you with his tousled blonde hair and dark eyes. “Yes?”

“Get the hell out?” You questioned as you motioned to the door. He untucked his hands as he cupped his chin and puckered his mouth and crinkled his chin in a false thought motion. He was already trying your patience.

“I think I’m good. Thanks for the offer though!” You groaned as you begrudgingly shut your door, glad for once that your roommate never comes back until way later than 6PM. When you waltzed back into your living room, Jimin had made himself comfortable on your couch with your TV remote like he lived here. You were offended, obviously so.

You stood in the doorway of the room as Jimin waved you over as you took skeptic steps towards him and sat on the far end of the couch. Clear away from his grabby fingers that probably need a sanitize or two.

“I don’t bite you know,” he chuckled as he dug his phone from his pocket. He opened his messages and you watched his thumbs drum away on the screen. Messaging, hitting send, opening a new conversation and repeat. How many friends did he have? “We’ll leave in an hour.” He said without batting an eye.

“Excuse me?”

“Jin’s party? We’re going.” Who did this man think he is?!

“Says who?! I’m not going, I’m pretty sure I made that obvious before. You were eavesdropping so you know this mind you.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was just listening. It’s not like I was hiding behind a wall and listening in while you and Jackson bitch back and forth. Which is funny, by the by.” He dropped his phone into his lap as he hiked his arm up on the back of the couch, looking at you, your knees pulled to your chest with your feet on the couch cushion. “You’re actually quite cute.”

You quickly jumped up and sat perched on the arm of your couch, pointing a finger at him as you opened your mouth and furrowed your brows.

“Ah-ha! I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“You’re just a sleazy, shady, horny college frat boy who is just following me around because you don’t know me!” Jimin offered an annoyed eye roll, his eyes sticking up to his eyelids before he looked back down with a snarky grin. “I’ve heard your resume from Jackson, and I know better than to throw myself at you.”

“Oh, so you know about me? Well, that’s unfair as I know nothing about you.”

“In fact, come any closer and I’ll punch you in your stupid face.” Jimin just shook his head as he huffed out through his slightly parted lips. He watched as you sat perched on the arm of your couch like some sort of bird of prey, practically hissing at him. You had obviously heard all the rumors from Jackson, most of which are probably true. Most. Not all of them are true though, however, he won't deny that he couldn't count the numbers of girls he's 'dated' on his fingers and toes combined.

"You know, I'm not all that bad. I'm not gonna just get you drunk and pull some cheap trick on you like some jock would." He slid his phone into his windbreaker pocket. "How about we compromise."

"Sounds sketchy," you reply without missing a beat.

"Now, now, hear me out. I can tell you don't like me much," you interrupted him with a sarcastic 'oh really' before he continued talking over you, "but I'm not so much as a horn dog as I am something willing to give someone something they want. I'm not into sex if it's not consensual, so don't worry about me making any moves on you." He spoke like he was being truthful, but you still weren't a hundred percent certain you could take his words at face value. He sighed, "look, if you go with me, we don't have to stay the whole time," he tacked on.

"We? Makes it sound like you're expected me to tail you all night."

"Not exactly, I will be hanging around you though. Jackson said parties aren't your scene, and I absolutely know that if you had the option, you'd be a wallflower all night." You squinted at him as you held your pinkie towards him. He looked at it with ticked brows then back to you. "And this is?"

"A pinkie finger," you answered.

"No shit genius, why are you sticking it in my face?"

"Oh please, it's like you don't know what a pinky promise is." You rolled your eyes. "I'll go to the stupid party if, and only if, you stick to your word and not abandon me to flounder on my own because I'm actually a big wimp and I will cry and I will cause a scene otherwise."

Jimin busted out laughing as he linked his pinky in yours. Extending your thumb, you pressed it against the pad of his own and 'locked' in the promise. Now he absolutely wasn't allowed to go back on his word. Or else you'd probably throw a knife set at him.

Jimin shooed you off as you walked to your room, swaying and moaning the entire way before you shut it behind you. So much for a boring, cozy night in. For once, maybe you'd see your roommate if you weren't out all night. You sighed as you sadly stripped out of your hoodie and shorts replacing them with skinny jeans with holey knees and a white shirt. Fixing your messy hair and tying it back with a stretched out hair tie, you slipped on your worn out flats and grabbed your phone from the nightstand.

It was nothing glamorous, and you expected other girls to probably be dressed more... openly to put it nicely. Though, you were only going because you were peer pressured into it, not to get laid and definitely not to get hit on. If anyone even came close to you with a stupid, drunk pick up line, you're most likely to panic and flee the scene like you committed murder.

You sighed as you looked into your mirror.

"Why am I a pushover to some jerk who hardly knows me?" Then, you gasped as you stomped your foot, finally registering that Jackson had blabbed to JImin about you. "That snake!! I'm taking away his drunk couch privileges indefinitely!" All while Jimin sat on the couch in the living room, laughing to himself as you screamed at nothing and shot Jackson a text that you were coming with him to the party.

To say Jackson's reply back was overbearing was an understatement. He acts like an idiot towards you, but the 'Don't you dare try anything with her, I swear to god,' text he received told him that the relationship you two have is more than just back and forth banter.

When Jimin's ears perked up at the sound of your door down the hall unlatching, he picked himself up off the couch and watched as you came back into the living room changed and much more party ready. He let out a loud whistle as you adjusted your shirt, tucking it in and letting the boy see just the smallest sliver of your stomach and if he was being honest, it was more attractive than he thought it would be.

You were teasing him and you weren't even aware of it. That was the most painful thing about you so far. He cupped his chin as he looked at you. Peeking up as you fumbled with getting your shirt just right, you caught him inspecting.

"What?" You bit.

"Something just seems, off? Something is missing from this look." He hummed as he walked around you. The shirt was fine, the jeans were aesthetically pleasing and the small choker you hooked around your neck was a touch of college that worked wonderfully with the outfit in question. He came back to your front as he scrunched his eyes and then shot them open with a snap and a small ah-ha moment. "I know! You need a jacket!"

"Why?"

"Because it's a staple in fashion to have a jacket with a look so simple. Your shirt and jeans combo with a flare of the choker is appealing, but a jacket always seals the deal! Or, if it's too hot than settle for a cardigan."

"What are you, a fashion guru?"

"No, but I do take a high deal of pride in my fashion sense." You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms. Why white? It was almost too transparent, your stupid yellow star printed bra was just barely visible in the bright lights of the living room. Surely it'd be fine at the party, it'll be dark in the house, save for the random rave lights that Jin is bound to have. He goes all out when it's his party.

"And I assume you'll want this jacket to be black?" He nodded, it would be just wrong to have a white jacket over a white shirt. It would clash too much. "Too bad, I don't have one. I have a grey one?" He shook his head.

"Nope. Monochromatic is good, but not with this look. Black is the only option. Ah, you know what, I have something at my house I could lend you. It'd so perfect with you!" He smiled as he grabbed your wrist. "Come on, I live 10 minutes off campus. We've no time to waste!" He whined as he dragged you through the dorm and eventually out the door.

Soon, within the next hour, you found yourself climbing off of his motorcycle- that nearly frightened you to death with him as the driver- in his leather jacket outside a house too big to be real and almost envy-inducing.

The house was two stories and looked like a widened stock photo with how wide it was. All the window shades were open and lights of blues, reds, purples flickered in uneven patterns through them. The music was just bass boosted enough you could feel it in your feet when Jimin marched you both up the patio and through the door. It was like walking into a speaker the way your body met with all the heat, lights and loud music.

You couldn't hear yourself think as you weaved through people, behind their backs and gasping when you nearly ran into a couple more than ready to take their lip lock elsewhere. You shrunk in on yourself as you stumbled around before Jimin took your wrist again.

"Come on," he leaned closer to you and spoke loud enough you could hear him. Letting him drag you off somewhere, he quite rudely pushed people away and maneuvered through the crowds of drunk college kids. He was definitely used to this- the way he moved through the masses was a clear indication of that.

Soon he had pulled you into the kitchen where it was much less crowded than you figured it would be. You would think since all the liquid was stored here, it would be a madhouse, but only a few bodies stood around sipping from the typical red cup with rosey, drunken cheeks. The music had dulled back in the kitchen, so a conversation wasn't totally out of the question. You placed your hand on your chest and sighed at the room to actually breathe.

Jimin, beside you, chuckled as he rubbed your back between your shoulder blades.

"you really aren't cut out for tight spaces, doll." You glared at him.

"Oh, so you just now realize that you moron?" He only chuckled as he whipped out his phone and sent a text to someone. Just one text, as opposed to an hours earlier when he was texting anyone and everyone nonstop in sequence.

No soon was Jackson waltzing into the kitchen. JImin watched as you seemed to lighten up at the face of someone so familiar to you. Jackson sauntered out with a smile, nearly jogging at he bumped into your side with his own. Wearing a snapback and some jersey with a pair of old, acid washed jeans, he looked like a jock ripped straight out of some gross teen-movie.

His breath stunk of booze, but he was still partially sober. He could hold his alcohol better than you thought he could, to be honest. You pushed away his cheek that was far too close to your face to get the radiant smell of beer away from your nose.

"you're gross and smell, get away from me you sweaty-"

"Do not insult me when I know for a fact you're so ready to shit bricks."

You gaped at him as you smacked the back of his head, making him whine and wince as he rubbed it. Sure you were nervous being here, but you weren't that nervous. You crossed your arms as you pouted, Jimin once again finding a sense of adorableness between you and Jackson's interactions.

"I hate you," you muttered as Jackson feigned hurt. He dropped his act as he playfully slapped your ass, making you squeak before he turned to Jimin.

"How'd you get Straight-Lace-Y/n out of her room on a Friday my man? I gotta know, for future reference of course."

"You would never believe how easy she is to persuade if you say the right things." Jackson gasped.

"You didn't make some sketchy deal did you?!" You squawked as Jackson quickly pulled you against his chest, nearly knocking you over in his haste as he practically hissed as Jimin. "Don't be touching my little Y/n! She's way too young!" You whined.

"I'm only a few years younger than you!" Jimin didn't know how old you were exactly, but if you were younger than Jackson, you were around his age then? Jimin just shook his head as he slipped his thumbs through the front belt loops of his pants, leaning back just enough for it to almost be attractive. Almost.

"I won't disclose our agreement with someone who didn't witness it. Clients secrecy."

"Stop!" You grumbled. "That makes it seem so bad!" Jimin laughed as the three of you soon took to sticking in your little group and chatting. Jimin had finally got you to loosen up enough to at least have one cup of something to drink. Beer wasn't typically your thing, but after not being impressed with the rest of the liquor lineup, it wasn't so bad in comparison.

Eventually, you seemed to even start enjoying yourself. Playfully quipping at anything Jackson or Jimin had to say and even smiling or laughing at some dumbass joke that came out of one of their mouths. Jimin laid off the alcohol for the most part, as he was your ride home and he may be wild, but drunk driving is definitely not his main game.

Soon, Jackson abandoned ship and Jimin had begun to wander around and meet of people he knew, all while you remain attached at his side with his hand over yours. True to his word, he never once left you on your own the whole night and when Jimin finally suggested you go back to your dorm it was well past midnight. You didn't want to stay out this late, but you weren't particularly fussed about it either.

Weaving back around passed out drunks, far too attached couples and still dancing troopers, Jimin and you ended up back outside and across the lawn to his motorcycle where it had sat parked all night.

As he placed his helmet on his head and climbed on, you followed he flipped up his visor to look at you.

"It wasn't so bad, now was it?" His muffled voice asked. You rolled your eyes, hating to admit that anything Park Jimin did for you was actually enjoyable unlike you previously thought.

"It wasn't awful, but don't expect this to happen a second time, Park." After dropping you off and making sure you got into your room safe and sound at ten after 1AM, he drove back home. He lived in an apartment off campus, well off enough to afford it before he needed to get back into the part-time job department of life.

Stripping free of his party clothes and swapping them out for sweats and a thin, stretched out grey shirt, he flopped onto his bed. Realizing two things. One, you still had his leather jacket and two, he hadn't stopped smiling since you wrapped your arms around his waist on the way back to your home.

You were rudely awoken the next morning at 10AM with your phone that blared for the 4th time beside your head. Groaning, you grabbed the stupid piece of screaming plastic that continued to ring and finally looked at the screen. Though it was sunny outside, your blackout curtains in your room made sure to keep that pesky sunlight out, so the screen brightness did little to no good on your retinas.

Unknown Calling…

You squinted at your screen. Who was calling you? Sighing, as soon as the call dropped for the 4th time, you noticed that the same number had been the same one to call previously. Rolling lazily onto your chest, your blankets tangling around your legs as your you felt your hair tangled around your neck and around your ears. You stared at the black screen of your phone, as you were testing a hypothesis. True to your suspicious, the screen lit up as your ringtone blasted for the 5th time.

Answering it seemed to be your only option at this point. Five back to back calls was way too excessive to be some random coincidence. Swiping to answer it, you pushed your hair out of the way and placed your phone by your ear.

“Hello?” You answered the best you could with sleep still thick in your voice.

“Your sleep schedule is awful. It’s been like, what? Nine hours and your ass in still in bed?” You groaned as you flopped onto your back.

“How did you get my number, Jimin?”

“Take a wild guess?” He teased. Obviously, it was Jackson. You muttered a ‘snake’ under your breath as Jimin chuckled into the line. “Get up, we’re going out.” You blinked at your dark ceiling.

“And if I said no?”

“Then I’ll come bang on your dorm door again. I’m already sitting outside the campus dorms. It’s not too long of a trip up the stairs Y/n.” You groaned again knowing full well that Jimin absolutely meant it. “No?”

“Fine, give me like 15 minutes.”

“15?!”

“Don’t push me,” you cut as you hung up on him. Tossing your phone aside, you crawled out of bed with a whine as you wobbled around your room, trying to wake up enough to wash your face before getting dressed.

Jimin stood at the curb of the dormitory, leaning against a light pole. He watched as you cut the call off and your number faded from his phone screen. Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone as he took a breath out. Part of him was wondering what he was doing?

He could’ve made other plans today, but he didn’t. Rather, he didn’t want to. He fell asleep with you on the brain and woke up the same exact way. After texting Jackson all morning, trying to pry information out of him and successfully doing so with the promise of a week’s worth of lunch on him, he finally got your number out of him too. So, the calling began.

He was rather shocked it only took 5 calls to wake you up. He laughed to himself as he plucked his phone from his pocket and sent you a text before you came down.

Jimin: Bring my jacket back, I miss it. :((

He laughed out loud when you shot back nothing but the middle finger emoji. What a highschooler move. It was chilly out today. The clouds kept hiding the sun as they rolled under the light, only letting brief spots of warmth out at a time. A small breeze was in the air as Spring had just begun with the promise of rain in the afternoon no doubt.

His blue jeans and hot pink hoodie stood out, yes, but he was proud of that fact. His hair free of a cap lifted with each small gust of wind. It was exactly 17 minutes when he saw you walking out of the dormitory, a red flannel purse on your hip. His jacket on your shoulders with a black shirt with the picture of a cat on the breast pocket and a pair of blue shorts. Your hair was down, without anything covering or added to it.

Part of him didn’t want the jacket back now.

When you got to him, the first thing you did was greet him with a harsh stomp on his foot with your shoes. He whined as his thin converses did nothing to guard his foot against your heel.

“What was that for?!”

“Calling me five times and then proceeding to force me out of my dorm on a Saturday!” You argued as you huffed and crossed your arms. “As punishment for stealing my lazy day, I’m keeping your jacket until I return home.” He grinned, he wasn’t totally against that.

“Have it your way,” he was easy to give him.

“What did you want anyway?” He stood back up and swayed to your side.

“A week.”

“Pardon?”

“A little birdie told me that you can’t believe I can go a week with one person. So, I’d be honored if you took me up on the challenge to so spitefully requested of me.” You shivered in mock disgusted. “Hey!”

“Calm down, Queenie,” you teased with a grin of your own. “I actually meant that towards all your flings, but sure. If you think you can handle a week of me arguing leaving my room, by all means, give it a whirl.” Jimin looked at you with questions in his eyes. “What now?”

“You gave in waaay too easy, Y/n.”

“Yeah, well if I declined, I have a suspicion you’d whine to Jackson, who in turn would whine to me and I’m not really up for any more of that than I have to deal with on the daily.” He smiled as he pushed playfully on your shoulder, making you smile again.

“Look at you! Already guessing and knowing my habits. We’re basically best friends already!”

“Don’t let Jackson hear you. That will also result in whining.”

“Duly noted.”

Soon, Jimin had started walking around in random locations towards the city. Something about wanting to window shop and making you come along with him. You watched when he pulled out a Zippo lighter with a small, nearly empty pack of cigarettes directly off campus. You rose your brow when you asked him about it. He was a smoker, but he was in the middle of trying to quit. He had slowed down from a pack in two days to only a few smokes in that time. He wanted to pace himself until he cut them off completely. Ht told you once this pack was done, he would try not to buy any more.

You then started offering him solutions to cravings. Candies or small habits were a good way to get the urge to smoke off the brain. Or, if he absolutely found himself not able to quit, e-cigarettes surely weren’t so bad. Expensive, but not an awful half solution. He took your suggestions to heart, not actually expecting you to take that topic and run with it.

He had snuffed out the bud when you both got closer to the shopping strip of stores after stores with a cafe on nearly every corner. It was always busy during the weekend, and Jimin had a feeling you didn’t get to shop often. The way you seemed to light up and become more bouncy at the idea of maybe actually getting something for yourself today was proof of that.

You both went to store after store with enough coffee breaks to power an engine. Eventually, Jimin had walked into some indie store, more than curious about the odd patterns he saw in the display window. You trailed after him, winding through aisles and stopped when you saw a small charm necklace.

The necklace itself wasn’t the best and the chain was weak enough that if you pulled just a bit too hard or it snagged in anything it would surely break. But, it wasn’t that which intrigued you. It was the pendant itself.

It was a small dandelion. It’s small, metal puffs pushing out in the circle as it if you blew just hard enough the puffs would scatter. Jimin stopped when he noticed you weren’t tailing him anymore, turning to see you bent over and looking at it. He backtracked to stand at your side, hands in his pockets as he observed it with you.

“You like this?”

You nodded. “I do. Dandelions are my favorite flower. I don’t really like when they bloom into the yellow ones, Jackson used to pluck those and smear it’s pollen all over my arms when we met. I do like the wish ones those.”

“Wish ones?”

“Yeah, the ones you make a wish on. If you find one like this,” you poked at the necklace, “and you make a wish, you have to blow as hard as you can. If you manage to get all the seeds to blow off, then your wish is supposed to come true.” You chuckled at yourself. “It’s all fairy tale sounding, but you can’t deny its got its romantic side.”

“Huh, who knew an everyday weed is so meaningful to other people.” You stood up as you huffed.

“I’ve seen moms get mad at their kids for pulling dandelions and giving them to them as gifts. They’re not weeds, so just accept them!” You pouted as Jimin laughed. You spun on your heel as you trotted off, Jimin watching your back as you disappeared behind some racks of clothing. He rolled his eyes at your dramatic march off as he stood up and followed you, not before grabbing the necklace though. 5$ isn’t too much to spend.

After he secretly purchased the necklace, he placed the small pouch it was in promptly into your purse when the two of you were at yet another cafe while you were in the bathroom. Apparently, this specific cafe stop was for you to pee, as you had decided that a whole soliloquy about how your bladder was about to burst was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t. When you returned, all you did two was chat like old friends who knew each other since you were in diapers.

Jimin wasn’t nearly as awful as you thought, and part of you felt guilty for judging him so quickly. Sure, his reputation was a bit black, but the boy himself was a sweetheart, and you made sure to offer him an apology and a chocolate chip muffin as compensation for your rotten attitude.

Day by day went on and as classes rolled on, Jimin would walk you to and from class, pick you up from your dorm and drop you off and even bring you lunchtime coffee just because you couldn’t say no to something he already paid for.

Eventually, the dawn of day 6 in the week broke and Jimin had called up Jackson. Telling you that he had something planned to do and that he would see you tomorrow. He had grown so used to hanging around you, a stab of pain hit him when you replied back to him with an ‘ok :(‘. You were far too cute he reasoned as he put the back of his hand against his mouth as you added on a ‘you owe me, Park >:(‘ to your message.

Jimin: I owe you? For what spoilt brat

You: For leaving me alone to drown in boredom. How dare you??

Jimin: It was literally just last week you were biting my head off for dragging you out of your room. Now your complaining that I have something to do without you? My my my, how they grow up so fast. Bless

You: Choke and die. I’m going to take a nap

Jimin: It’s 8AM don’t sleep and mess up your schedule!

You: YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME PARK

Jimin: Y/N!

You: JIMIN!

Jimin: Stay. Awake.

You: …

You: Fine. Guess I’ll play Overwatch by myself

Jimin: Ew, who plays Overwatch?

You: yOU-

H laughed when you stopped replying. Whether or not you actually started playing or went back to sleep was a mystery to him as he walked out of his apartment to meet with Jackson. Jimin wanted to ask him a few things before the end of the week came. He also had a few woes to lay on your best friend's shoulders.

A game of basketball was what Jimin had planned for the day with Jackson. Going to the public gym and meeting Jackson with sports gear and a basketball in hand, the man-to-man day would begin.

Jimin, walking onto the courts with his sports shorts and tank top watched as Jackson lazily threw baskets in a jersey and sweats. Dribbling the ball, he passed it to the smaller man who met him on the court. Jimin, dribbling it around and getting a feel for it watched as Jackson crossed his arm before he stretched.

“Really, Jimin? Basketball?” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I have a friend who aces in basketball, so shut up.” It started with the boy just taking turns shooting before a small match of one on one began. Squeaking shoes on the floor with heavy breaths filled the nearly empty Thursday noon-time gym. Lay-ups were shot left and right, 3-pointers and of course, the ever dreaded airball followed by laughing at the lame excuse of a shot all came with the game. Soon, the two men were sat on the far wall, sweat covered and drinking out of water bottles purchased from the vending machine outside the doors.

“Now that the exercise part of the day is done, what is it you wanted?” Jackson asked. Turning towards Jimin taking a drink of water as Jimin craned his head up at the dim lights that definitely were going to go out soon.

“I think I have a crush on Y/n,” Jimin yelped when Jackson spit out his water on Jimin’s lap. “Thanks for the shower, jackass!” Jackson coughed as he wiped at his chin while Jimin shook his shorts and his arms disgusted.

“I can totally help you confess!” Jimin looked at his friend. “I’ve got this whole scene I’ve been cooking up for her lucky future boyfriend since like freshman year. I’d spent a lot of time on this, and you- my lucky man- are gonna be the one to do it!”

“You’re okay with it?” Jimin asked, his voice skyrocketing as he barely spoke in a whisper. Jackson only shrugged as he put his back against the wall again and took a more steady drink since his last attempt ended covering Jimin.

“Yeah, why not? Sure, you were a sleazy a week ago-”

“Hey!”

“-But, it seems like you get along with Y/n. And she’s not just gonna snub you once the weekends because that’s what you said in the beginning.”

“She told you about that?” That was true, Jimin had only planned on staying with you a week, but now he wanted an extended date. Permanently if he had the option.

“Of course she did dude. Look, so long as she doesn’t call me up one day bawling because you did something to her, I have no reason to knock your lights out.” Jimin shuttered. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the strength Jackson possessed. He didn’t fight often, normally pretty laid back and easy going, but he’s heard rumors. All focus solely around you and how you were picked on freshman year of college. He got suspended for 2 weeks, but you weren’t picked on anymore.

Jimin looked at his lap as he moved and stuck out his pinky. He remembered the party night and how serious you were about a small pinky promise. Then, that thought somehow shifted to how you seemed to take dandelions seriously. Jimin sighed as he turned back to Jackson, sitting cross-legged and at the utmost attention.

“Alright, tell me what I’m gonna do about this.” A grin broke out on Jackson’s face as he clapped Jimin on the shoulder.

“Buckle in, Park. This is gonna be one romantic fuckin’ ride.”

It was Friday as you sat in the library, reading and rereading the same paragraph in your textbook. It was like your brain wasn’t registering the words, no matter how many times to read them over and over again. You’d get halfway through, realize you clocked out only to repeat the process. You sighed as you slammed your head into the books fold and someone slid into the seat next to you.

They rubbed your neck as you whined at your lame attempt at actually studying. Turning your head and blowing your hair out of your face just enough to see who sat next to you, you weren’t entirely shocked to see Jimin. In his comfortable college dressed glory and his leather jacket, you had finally returned to him. His arm propped on the table as his palm held his chin. He was smiling, probably laughing at your obvious lack of concentration.

“Howdy, bookworm.” You rolled your eyes at him as you planted your face back into the book that smelt far too old to be a 2018 edition of World History. He chuckled again at you. “You know, you can always ditch the books?”

“I’m so close to almost not having a B in this class it’s laughable. I’ve never gone below that!” You whined, quietly of course as the librarian was a soundhound when it came to any loud noise ever. She’s search out the source of the sound like a dog and quickly take to eliminate it. You’ve been kicked out more than once in your attempts to studying turned to whines.

Jimin rolled his eyes. Ever the drama queen. His hand moved from your neck to treading through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Let me rephrase,” he stopped and started again. “How about you stop for the day, hang out with me and then maybe I’ll help you study later.” You sat up briefly, his hand remaining on the back of your head as you looked at him like a puppy dog would when offered treats.

“Can we get snacks?” You pouted and Jimin smiled enough his eyes began to close. Patting your head, he nodded.

“Yes, we can get snacks, you big baby.” You smiled as you sprung up and slammed your book shut, wincing on how loud the action was before you shoved it in your bag. Jimin stole your bag before you could pick it up yourself and you pouted when he refused to give it to you. “Let me be a gentleman, Y/n.”

“You? A gentleman? Like you? As in Park Jimin who smokes and drinks?”

“I’m trying to stop smoking, you know that.”

You nodded, pointing a finger at him. “Ah, yes, good point. I revoke that accusation then.” He just pulled up on his lips as he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the library, stopping by your locker to ditch your bag inside it and then dragged you to a small convenience store to stock up on the snacks of your choosing.

However, you felt a bit bad when Jimin snatched your wallet from you when you went to grab your card and handed the cashier his instead. You stomped and whined, but he was adamant that the bill was his to foot. You guilt was short lived when he placed the plastic bag of snacks in your arms though so you could offer him one of your marshmallowy-goodness cereal bars. His payment for footing the payment.

Jimin gladly accepted this.

He convinced you to come back to his home so he could get out his bike, as he had told you he wanted to take you somewhere. Not sure where he was going, you were half sure he was gonna take you someone and murder you with how sappy he’s been all afternoon, but also half as sure that he wouldn’t. With a laugh and a promise to not kill you from his mouth, you decided to trust him.

“If you do kill me though, I’m so haunting you so think wisely,” you warned as you climbed onto his bike, your bag of snacks in a holding compartment under the seat as you sat behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

You always just held onto his shirt, to offer him as much space as you could as you literally clung to him not to fly off while he zooms down the road. Though, before he even kicked up the stand, he pulled your hands from his shirt and tucked you close to his back. He made you clasp your hands together at his stomach, saying it was ‘safe’ though he’s never said that before.

Taking a breath to cool down your heated face, you could see his stupid smile in his eyes as he flicked down the visor on his helmet and kicked up the stand before revving away.

He took you down some country roads before an hour passed and he stopped when he was at an open field with a small farmhouse not too far off in the distance. The cattle were off in a group as you could see their small black and white bodies look like ants from how far they were from the two of you.

“Are you sure we can be here?” you questioned when Jimin took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair. You hated when he did that, how dare he do that multiple times over and not be aware of it or his attractiveness skyrocket when he does. Damn frat boy.

“Yeah. I got a friend of a friend’s permission to be here. It’s all cool. We’re not trespassing so come on.” You swung your leg back over the motorcycle before Jimin linked his arm with yours and began to walk off, setting his helmet on his bike seat and not forgetting to grab your snacks either.

The two of you just walked around. Treading through the grass and making sure not to step on any flowers of innocent bees doing their hard work of collecting pollen. Though, Jimin did wave and scare off a wasp once or twice. Which was dumb because that only resulted in the bug buzzing angrily after the two of you before it gave up.

Eventually, you both came to a grove of trees. They were tall and proud. You had no doubt they had taken years upon years to grow up to this level of brilliance. It was just the right time in spring in flowers flew from the treetops and the green returned to the leaves. The wind that knocked the flower petals around was like a cinematic effect.

Jimin was quick to plonk himself down at the base of one of the trees, sitting cross-legged while unloading your snacks. Bags of chips, plastic bins of cookies, small individual wraps of brownies and of course some soda to tied you two over while you feasted. Definitely not healthy, but oh so worth it.

The two of you sat under the tree as ate while you talked more. It was strange that Jimin and you never ran out of things to talk about. Any quiet gap between the conversation was quickly filled because all you two were doing was chalking up more conversations to have. It was comfortable and the air around it made it seem like Jimin enjoyed it more than you did.

“Oh! I forgot, Jackson told me that you have a tattoo!” Jimin ticked his brow up at two things. Yes, he did, but how did Jackson know that? Then he remembered just who Jackson Wang was: Gossip Farm Member No.1. “How dare keep secrets in this relationship. I demand a refund of time and lies.” Jimin shoved at your shoulder as he shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him in a navy shirt.

“How about I show you and we can forget all about that refund?”

“If you whip your dick out and show me some weird cockring tattoo, please forget it.” He laughed, nearly falling onto your lap as you braced his back. “I’m serious!” You cried in your own laughter. He shook his head, putting the back of his hand against his face and looking at the sky through the tree’s leaves.

“I cannot believe you sometimes.” He swung his jacket around your shoulders. “It’s on my rib cage, so hold my jacket for me. I don’t want to get it all grassy.” You’d complain, but you did have a soft spot for this jacket. So, you slipped your arms through the sleeves and huffed in peace as the jacket warmed you up from Jimin’s body previous being in it.

Jimin slipped one of his arms back through the short sleeve of his shirt as it appeared under the bottom of it and pushed it up to reveal his torso. The sharp, black ink of NEVERMIND engraved on his ribs. You awed at it. It was something you wouldn’t expect to be on Jimin, yet the idea and the look of it suited him so well it was almost painful.

“Honestly, if you keep springing these attractive attributes on me I’m going to cry.” Jimin rolled his eyes as he- instead of putting it back on- removed his shirt altogether. Showing you his back where a spade tattooed lay between his shoulders. “Another one?!” He chuckled.

“You said not to spring it on you,” he slyly remarked as he watched your face heat up. “What, too attractive? Come to think, did you back-handedly compliment me a moment ago?”

“No. Shut your trap you stupid college frat.”

“You’re very good at sending compliments like insults.”

“Ugh, fine! You’re attractive- is your ego gloated enough now?” He smirked as he took his shirt and threw it around your neck, dragging you closer to him. Your breath caught when he bumped his nose against your, scanning your face like a computer would a test sheet to make sure a No. 2 leaded pencil was used.

“It’s can be inflated a bit more, truth be told.” He watched your eyes switch between his own. “Remember what you told me about dandelions? How they make wishes come true?” You nodded. “Good,” he breathed before he kissed you. He eased his shirt from around your neck when you didn’t fight or push him away. He pushed down on you, pushing you further against the trunk of the tree as the sun made the shadows of the leaves dance.

It was like the shimmering of the sea on your skin as he cracked open his eyes when he pulled away from you just long enough for you to grip the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his hair and pull him straight back. He wasn’t complaining, smiling as the kiss became fervent.

He didn’t know how long he spent hunched over you in an intense lip lock, and frankly, he didn’t really care either. Though, there is one thing from the Park Jimin a week ago that wasn’t snuffed out. The playboy heartbreaker surely died, as you killed him within less than a week. However, his tolerance and patience when it came to things that looked to become more heated than not, was still at an all-time low.

He whined as he forced himself away from you, watching as your kiss-swollen lips breathed harsh air out in gasps and your face was as red as the blood rushing to them. He chuckled as he kissed the tip of your nose and from previous knowledge of seeing it earlier, moved back from you and plucked a dandelion that sat behind him at the base of the tree trunk.

Jimin turned to you and held it in front of your face before he smiled and blew on it. All the seeds scattering onto your face and into your hair as it left the stem bare. You blew out your lips, trying to make sure no seeds were unsightly inhaled at his assault.

He laughed again. “Wanna know what I wished for?”

You plucked seed after white seed out of your hair before you looked up at him as he tossed the stem over his shoulder. “You can’t tell. That’s literally rule number 1 of wish making. Telling someone the wish makes it void and it can’t come true!” You pouted. “Though, I am curious.”

He smiled as he moved and pinched your side. He kept pinching you until you got to your knees before he grabbed your waist and dragged you over to him. You walking clumsily on your knees found yourself sat forcefully on Jimin’s thighs as he intertwined his fingers behind your back.

He pouted cutely at you as his blond hair was like that of the sun.

“I wished you would kiss me again.”

“You’re awfully cocky,” you replied with that same crimson on your face.

“I didn’t hear a no?”

“You didn’t, because you know damn well I’m not gonna say no!”

“It’s not nice to yell at your boyfriend who bought you snacks and only wants a kiss or two.”

“You’re actually the worst.”

“Kiss me!”

“Why should I?” You teased as he pushed his knees up, making you fall closer to his chest.

“The dandelion said so,” so he laughed and kissed you again for certainly not the last time.

-END-

503 notes · View notes

bapyess1r · 5 years

Text

Head Over Heels

03. Changes

Samira’s POV

1 year ago...

“Samira-”

“Fuck off, Javi!” I barked, slamming the door in his face. I was fuming, struggling to get the leash off of my dog’s collar. Imagine this: you’re going to get coffee before work and take your dog for a walk…. just to find your boyfriend tonguing down another girl in the park.

“Hey, hey now...what’s goin’ on here?!” My roommate Brazil asked loudly, her arms crossed defensively. Her girlfriend (also my best friend), Kelly, appeared behind her with a bat.

“Jesus, babe!” Brazil exclaimed as she scurried between us and looked into the peep hole.

“Javi?!” She shouted.

“Kellz? Tell Samira to come here, right now!” Javi ordered.

“Nigga what?!” Brazil snapped, twisting her face in disgust. “He just… Did he really just fucking say that?!”

“Wait- what happened?!” Kelly voiced.

“I was walking Masego and then I checked my phone, and when I look up from my fucking phone, he’s goddamn kissing some fucking rando at fucking Greenleaf!” I sobbed, hot tears running down my face.

“Shit…” Brazil mouthed.

“Go away, Javi!” I yelled.

“Samira, please! Lemme explain-”

“Explain what, bro?!-” I snapped. I was beyond pissed. I was shaking. Brazil came to my side, rubbing small circles into my back as tears continued to fall.

“OK! Maybe you should go, man. Just for a little bit.” She said, cautioning him.

“I’m calling Honey.” Kelly whispered to her beloved as she put the phone to her ear. She patted my shoulder as she moved into the kitchen off to the side so she could hear better.

“Mira! Why won’t you talk to me?!” I could hear him holler.

“Do you seriously have to ask me that shit?!”

“Baby she was NOTHING!”

“And that’s some bullshit if I ever heard it-” Just then, Kelly appeared, linking her arm in mine.

“He’s on the way with Wonho and Shownu.” She told us quickly.

“Alright, Javi, bounce bro! Jooheon is on the way with the boiiz and I definitely don’t want you to catch that kinda ass whooping cuz we cool man-” Brazil warned.

“You think I give a fuck about two chink ass muh’fuckers-” he snapped, banging on the door. Startled, Kelly raised her bat.

“Bro you’re deadass being DUMB- get the FUCK outta there! They on they way-”

“BRUH ION GIVE A FUCK!” Javi interrupted her. I looked into the peephole and he was turning red in the face; muscles straining and veins popping from his everywhere. His brows sewn to the middle as he paced in front of the door.

“That muh’fucker better give a fuck.” Kelly mumbled.

“Hell yeah. I’m not tryna be on the receiving end of Wonho’s any fucking thing…..except-” I began with a raised eyebrow.

“Girl that’s all of us. Even me. And I like vaginas!” Brazil joked, breaking the tension. We shared a brief laugh before I shook my head slowly into tears.

“I just don’t understand….. What did I do?” I bawled. I was truly at a loss for words. I was speechless. I gave Javi….everything. He was my first love, he took my virginity, he gave me a promise ring and swore in front of a room of people that he’d replace it with an engagement ring. I let myself be unequivocally me with him…. and he played me… for who? After a few moments of me crying my heart out in front of the girls, there was a jumble of voices outside the door.

“Ayo what’s good H-”

“Shut up.” I heard Jooheon’s voice interrupt and a light thump from the sound of a fist colliding with a jaw. There was a knock at the door and when Kelly opened up, standing there alone was Jooheon, cradling his injured fist. I ran to the doorway to look down the hall and see Javi being carried away by both Shownu and Wonho’s massive builds. “Are you ok?” He asked me softly, reaching out for me. Without a word, I ran into his arms and just stayed there for a while, crying. He hushed my tears and stroked my hair, kissing the top of my head.

Two Months Later….

There was a knock on my bedroom door but I didn’t answer. “Mira?” I heard Jooheon’s voice say from the other side. My heart jerked but I was too sad to move. “A bunch of us are going to the noraebang in Korea Town…. Wonho and Shownu are going and Maura’s just come from the airport….and your sister, Lydia is in town… she wants to see you, too…” he said trying his best to make me feel better. I huffed.

“Do I have to?” I groaned.

“Absolutely not, peanut, but we’d love it if you did…. I want you there too.” Jooheon said. I laid there and pondered it. It’s been a while now….. I couldn’t be this way forever. Javi made his choice and I needed to move on… I stood up and opened the door just enough to peek through.

“Will I get to sing La-Di-Da-Di?” I asked quite hopefully. Because who doesn’t like singing Mindless Self Indulgence?

“I’ll even make sure you have backup vocals. And I could beatbox if you'd like.” His eyes softened and he gave me the sweetest smile.

“I suppose I could make myself presentable….” I sighed. And with that I turned around to go grab a jacket and a pair of duck boots.

We parked on the street and he fed the meter before taking off down the street. After walking a block, we stopped at a building with a colorfully lit doorway. “Ladies first.” Jooheon smirked, giving a dramatized bow. I popped him on the back of the head playfully and walked down the illuminated staircase. We greeted the owner and Jooheon led me to the room they rented. When we arrived, I could hear them already singing Livin’ On A Prayer at the top of their lungs.The door opened and there was Wonho and Kelly singing loudly and terribly. Just two stepping and playing the tambourine, everyone around the room clapping and cheering them on. Brazil noticed me enter and the biggest smile appeared on her face as she came to hug me.

“I’m so glad you came….” she told me as she gently squeezed me. Shownu’s gentle but stoic face displayed for once a smile. He opened his long arms to me from the red leather couch.

“Come here, booger.” He said sweetly and I ran to jump into his lap, curled up in his embrace as he rocked me to the rhythm of the music. When I looked over, sitting next to him with her arms crossed and a nervous expression was my sister, Lydia.

“Hey, sis.” She said with a small smile.

“Dia. Hi.” I said in surprise.

“I’m sorry to hear about you and Javi…” she said looking down. “Really I am.”

“I’m not…. he didn’t want me anymore and he wasn’t man enough to say so.” I said in a stale tone as I slid off on Shownu’s lap to sit between them.

“I’m glad to hear you’re ok.” He said patting my head.

“Oh no, I’m on the verge of killing myself but I don’t wanna die yet. I refuse to let him be the reason that I leave this earth. I….refuse…” Tears began to spill past the barrier as my friends’ song came to an end and the others came rushing to me. Kelly sat in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck tightly, sobbing as I sobbed. But then I began to laugh. “Hey now!” I said looking around at the red and blubbering mugs around me. “Y’all look like shit! And red and….wet faced and…” My eyes ghosted over them all and landed on Jooheon. His eyes were red and swollen and he wiped his tears away with a sleeve. “Like someone kicked your puppy! I’m gonna be fine. I promise.” I reassured everyone except myself. Would I be fine? I didn’t know what to do with myself now. Everywhere I went reminded me of him…

“How about a song to cheer you up?” Wonho asked in his gentle but deep voice. Paired with that sweet smile of his, I couldn’t say no. And with that, we commenced karaoke night.

An hour or so passed and I was beginning to lose my voice from screaming and singing and laughing so much. I was having a great time for the first time in a while. I looked around at my friends faces and they were all drunk and happy. All except my Lydia. It wasn’t like her to not participate in karaoke. At any event. She seemed stuck in a way. Like she was nervous to make a decision. And she stayed buried in her phone, texting. I chewed my bottom lip and walked over to sit by her side. “Hiya sis!” I exclaimed with a flop on the couch. She looked startled and suddenly became flustered.

“Samira! Hi! I was looking for you…” she mumbled. I side eyed her a bit.

“I was...standing right in front of you basically… The room’s not that big.” I stated, awkwardly.

“Oh! So you were…” she trailed off and began fidgeting with her fingers. Something was wrong…

“Are you ok?” I asked her as the fear of something bad sat in my chest.

“Is there any way we can talk outside?” She asked me. I stared at her with empty eyes as I nodded and we both left for the hall without notice. But I’m sure they saw.

When I closed the door, the loud music thumped a muted bass line on the other side. Lydia pushed her long, wavy brown hair behind her ear and cleared her throat, taking a deep breath afterwards. She pulled the sleeves of her long orange cardigan over her hands and crossed her arms, staring at the ground. “What did you wanna talk about?” I asked. She sat back in her hips and held her head high as she looked at me to speak.

“Well… Samira. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just come out with it…..” she began in a shaky voice. I frowned, knitting my brows together tightly and flaring my nostrils. My heart was beating faced and my fists clenched up as I prepared to hear the news. “I…. I….” Her lips began to tremble and she seemed to cease breathing. “It was me.”

“Huh?” I asked confused.

“It…. it was me… Javi was kissing me at the park. It was me, Samira….” she said hanging her head, tears dripping onto the floor. I wasn’t sad as much as I was angry. I had so much rage boiling inside me that I was shaking; I couldn’t speak properly. I was just a stuttering mess.

“Y-You….” I lifted a shaky finger to point at her, stammering.

“Mira, I’m sorry…. I’m so so sorry-” And like a switch, I almost became someone else. My hand grabbed a fistful of her sewn in hair and threw her to the floor, screaming. I don’t know what happened in the next two minutes. But when I came to, Wonho was holding me by the waist, suspending above the ground; kicking and screaming and yelling. My hands hurt and my eyes burned. My sister was on the floor, disheveled and shaky, crying. Her lip was bleeding and she had a few marks on her face that Shownu was looking at and tending to. Kelly was in front of me trying to grab my attention as Wonho dragged me away, Jooheon standing between us all looking at us in shock.

“Calm down, booger-” Wonho said in a hushed tone, restraining me like a wild animal with rabies.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“OOOOKAY!!!! Honey! Close out the tab, karaoke is done. Now!” Kelly barked, following Wonho as he carried me out. “And meet me at the crib.”

Author’s Note:

I hope you guys aren’t disappointed yet. There is a part two of this chapter coming soon. Pls keep reading 🥰

#joe gilgun fanfic #joe gilgun #joseph gilgun #rudy wade x reader #rudy wade #cassidy x reader #proinsias cassidy x reader #proinsias cassidy

9 notes · View notes

no-no-notorious-writes · 5 years

Text

Sweat - t.h.

Pairing: bouncer!Tom Holland x reader

Summary: You and the bouncer have been making eyes at each other for weeks. The tension is killing you. So you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 1600+

Warnings: language, general club sexiness

A/N: I would suggest listening to your favorite sexy dance music very loudly while reading this. Also, I would like to thank my mother, since that last line is what she said to my dad the night they met.

Sweat

Why did it always feel like the temperature in the club was 1000°?

You and your friends had been coming to this club every Saturday for the last few weeks. Brinley, your roommate, was trying desperately to hook up with the bartender. He had been in a few of her classes when she was in college and she had pined after him. Back then, he had a girlfriend and was totally off-limits.

When she ran into him in her favorite coffee shop about a month ago, she noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring. Brinley was sure by now he would be married. Turns out, not only was he not married but he was recently single. She took it as her sign and had been trying to position herself in such a way that she would be in his line of view when he was ready for that first rebound.

“Y/N? Y/N? Y/N?!” She tapped your arm.

“What?” you yelled over the music.

“I’ve been calling your name for like three minutes.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologized.

Except, you weren’t really sorry. For the last few weeks, you had been making eyes at the bouncer. He was gorgeous. Chocolate hair that curled and swooped – it always looked so perfectly styled and you wanted to run your fingers through it as he fucked you. His jaw could cut glass and you wanted to lick it before you peppered sweet kisses down his neck. And his biceps were massive as they clearly threatened to rip the sleeves of his black t-shirt in two. You were positive that they would hold you perfectly against the wall while he drilled you.

“I was trying to ask if you wanted another drink,” Brinley stated.

“Uh,” you looked down at the ice that was sloshing around in your glass. “Yeah, I’ll take another.”

“Perfect. It seems really needy if I’m asking Haz to make a drink just for me.”

“Or you’re a paying customer, who is thirsty–” your friend Chelsea started.

“For his dick!” Melanie interrupted, which earned her a look from Chelsea and a giggle from you.

“Who is thirsty and clearly looking to get drunk,” Chelsea continued before pausing, “so that you can suck his dick later.”

You and your friends erupted into laughter. Brinley gave each of you a stern stare, but even she began to giggle a little. She knew it was the truth.

“I think he would have to realize that I was flirting with him first, before we could get to the cock sucking.”

“Brin, he knows. You are beyond obvious,” you said.

“Then why hasn’t he taken me back to his place, yet. I mean we’re here practically every weekend and we stay until the fucking lights come on.”

“Maybe he’s not over his ex,” Chelsea ever the sweet, gentle one.

“Or he’s not looking for a one-night stand,” you added, making sure she was aware of the possibility, even if she didn’t want to hear it.

“Or he’s waiting for you to just fucking do it already! Go up and tell him you wanna suck his dick. Or better yet, just go behind that bar and drop to your fucking knees,” Melanie screamed over the music, which caused Brinley to look behind her in hopes that Harrison hadn’t heard her.

He was at the opposite end of the bar and seemed none the wiser to your crude friend’s outburst. You and Chelsea had begun chuckling again, unable to keep it in after seeing the red creep up Brinley’s neck and onto her cheeks. Meanwhile, after checking to make sure the coast was clear, Brinley swatted at Melanie while telling her how horrible of a friend she was.

“Oh, just go get the drinks already, Brin!” You said, grabbing her arm away from smacking Melanie again.

“Just one more though! Then we go dance,” Chelsea said looking out longingly at the dance floor.

Brinley rolled her eyes and turned toward the bar to bat her eyelashes and giggle at whatever the blonde bartender had to say. Melanie had started to say something in response to Chelsea, but you hadn’t heard a word of it, because the bouncer was staring at you again.

This had been your little game the last few weeks. At first, you had been unable to take your eyes off him. You were pretty sure that you had drooled a little that first night. He would stare out into the crowd and every time his eyes landed on you, you would look away quickly or pretend that you weren’t actually looking at him but just in his direction. The first few times, he looked a bit concerned or confused, but after a while, he started to chuckle, shake his head, and then continue working.

However the last couple nights, you had decided to be brave and every time he caught you so obviously staring, you smiled or wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. You were trying to figure out what you would do next when he had caught you again. Originally, you had thought about doing a cute little wave, but you didn’t want to have to explain yourself to your friends.

At the moment, you were having trouble looking away. He had kept your eye contact. And you were positive that when his tongue shot out and licked his perfectly pink lips, your panties were suddenly drenched. You weren’t sure how much more you were going to be able to take.

“Ugh, he is just so fucking hot!” Brinley groaned, as she put your drink in front of you. It took you a minute before you realized she was not talking about the person you were thinking of.

“What did he say?”

“Did you suck his dick yet?” Melanie asked.

“He said he and his friend, Tom, are going on vacation next weekend. And I was thinking–”

“NO!” you and your friends all shouted at the same time. You had whipped your head toward her so fast you knew that you had lost your sexy staring contest.

“What?” Brinley asked innocently.

“You – we – are not following that poor boy to whatever godforsaken beach he and his friend are planning to go to.”

“Talk about desperate, Brin,” Melanie said, shaking her head.

“Fine,” Brinley pouted.

“We could do something fun next Saturday,” Chelsea suggested. “What do you want to do?”

“Anything but the club,” Melanie huffed.

While you would not miss the thumping basses, the sweat dripping down your back, and the inevitable headache you would have in the morning, you would definitely miss staring at the cute bouncer. You were starting to believe that you were wearing him down. It wouldn’t be long before he was asking for your number. You were sure of it.

But what would happen if you were missing for a week? Would he remember you when that next Saturday came around? What if you were back to square one? You don’t think you could handle another four weeks of working back up to this point. Maybe you had to take matters into your own hands, like Melanie always suggested. You knocked back your drink quickly, letting the ice hit your top lip as you tipped the glass back.

“Let’s dance!” You suggested.

“YAAASSS,” Chelsea shouted!

She was quick to follow you out to the dance floor, while Melanie and Brinley reluctantly followed after finishing their drinks. You made sure to position yourself directly in the bouncer’s line of sight. You were going to give him a show.

You let the bass of the speakers thump through you. You let yourself get loose and free, before grabbing Chelsea close to you. You knew that Chelsea wouldn’t care. She just wanted to dance too and it was so much better to dance with your friend rather than some rando on the floor. You slid your leg between hers and placed one hand on her waist before grinding up against her leg. Throwing your head back, you breathed in the humid air. Chelsea went right along with it, happy to drop to the floor, letting her hands run down your sides, before coming back up. But you couldn’t be out-done. He’d had his eyes all over you all night. You needed to show him what you could do.

Taking a peak over your shoulder, you could see him looking your way. You turned around, letting your ass land in Chelsea’s crotch. Then you bent over grinding up against Chelesa. You gave him a quick wink before you straightened up and turned back toward your friend.

After about a half hour of provocatively dancing with your friends, you excused yourself for the ladies’ room. He had been positioned against the wall between the two bathrooms all night. So you locked eyes with him before walking straight toward him. As you got closer, you could see him swallow hard. At the last moment, you veered hard toward the open door, but not before letting your arm graze his.

Surprisingly, the line wasn’t long, but you wouldn’t have been disappointed if it had been. You wanted him to sweat it out a little. When a stall opened up, you quickly did your business and washed up after. You checked your phone, fixed your makeup and hair, before slowly making your way back out into the club.

This would be the tricky part. You didn’t want him to see you before you could put your plan into action. Peeking out of the door to see that he was not looking for you to come out soon, you quietly stood just behind him.

“So, when are you going to ask for my number?” you whispered in his ear, watching as the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland scenario #tom holland scenarios #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland one-shot #tom holland one-shots #tom holland oneshot #tom holland oneshots #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #tom holland au #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut-light

23 notes · View notes

rueitae · 5 years

Text

Roommates in Disguise - Chapter 5

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901668/chapters/47292058

Next time, @fallen-angel-nightshade gets deep into the plot.

Beta by the wonderful @whyamistillhungry

Art by the phenomenal @mybluelionlancylance

Look at it! https://mybluelionlancylance.tumblr.com/post/186452499757/this-is-art-for-the-plance-mini-bang

~~~~~

Lance had every intention of waking up early - but he was so comfortable. His stomach growled in delight as the scent of maple hit his nostrils. The sound of sizzling bacon and the humming of the kitchen fan reached his ears, completing the perfect background noise to doze in bed... Wait. His kitchen fan was broken.

Lance jumped up with alarm and yelled in surprise as his back hit the floor. The sleeping bag he’d slept in hung mockingly from his legs. “Are you okay?” Katie asked, peeking out from behind the partition between the kitchen and living room. It all came back to him. “Yeah, s-sorry,” he said, more embarrassed than anything. “Only thing hurt is my pride.” Katie nodded. “Good. Then you’ll be able to enjoy breakfast.” She popped back into the kitchen. “I’m almost done with the bacon, but help yourself to the eggs and toast.” Lance slowly made his way to the tiny table and gazed upon the feast. Saliva pooled up in his mouth at the sights and smells. Two plates with forks and glasses of orange juice were already arranged, filled with buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns. Wait, when had he gone grocery shopping? “Where did you get all this? I know I didn’t have it in my fridge.” “Good news,” Katie responded, stirring into his only frying pan. “The police contacted me early this morning. I got to go back to the house and grab a few things. Breakfast is on me, it's the least I can do.” Lance smiled back, sitting down and shoveling some eggs into his mouth. His taste buds exploded and he moaned in delirium. “This is delicious.” When was the last time he’d been able to make eggs? Tears welled up in his eyes. “Thank you.” Katie finished her cooking and brought the pan over to serve them both. “I had to fix your kitchen fan, too, but honestly you’re doing me a favor. I’d fix your whole apartment if you let me.” “Really?” Lance said, hopeful. Katie had said she was majoring in robotics, but the fact that she would improve his quality of life was a gift. Between school and hero work, he didn’t have the money or the time to do it himself. He might be in love. He sat back and listed off the problems with the apartment, using his fingers as visual aides. “Because the faucet in the bathroom is leaky. And the bathtub doesn’t drain well, and the water pressure has been weird since I moved in. Most of the light bulbs don’t work even though I bought brand new ones last month,” he continued, finding himself getting more annoyed as he went on. “The disposal doesn’t work — “ “It does now,” Katie interrupted. “ — the freezer spits out ice rando — wait you fixed that already too?” Katie nodded, her face amused but not right out laughing. It was far more sympathetic. “I’m surprised Icebound hasn’t offered to help. He seems like the kind of guy who would want the best for his best friend. Lance slowed down chewing his latest bite of toast. His heart beat rapidly. He hadn’t foreseen this. He swallowed hard. “I asked him not to,” Lance finally settled on. He shoved some egg into his mouth, hoping she would take the hint of being done with that part of the conversation. “I see...” Katie said. She took a sip of orange juice. “Look, Lance, I could fix everything here for you, but it’s a bit ridiculous. It’s all broken, and you’re still in a terrible part of town. That can’t be worth it even this close to the university.” “I don’t mind it,” Lance retorted. Being in a crime-ridden area allowed him to use his powers for the most good. Katie looked him dead in the eye, and Lance found himself captivated. There was something eerily familiar with her determined gaze that gave him pause. “Move in with me,” she said bluntly. Lance spit out his eggs. “What?!” “I’m serious,” she continued as he wiped his egg-spattered face with a paper towel. “I have a whole house to myself. Plenty of bedrooms and it’s close to public transit.” Her eyes softened. “You saved my life, Lance. I can get back to searching for my family again.” An uneasy feeling swirled in his gut. The bus, the nicer place, rent-free… it sounded way too good to be true. Cute girls didn’t just ask him to move i--

Cute was the word now???

“Look, that’s really nice of you, Katie, but don’t you think it would be a little... weird?” he managed. “Any weirder than our city having actual superheroes?” Katie sighed, possibly a bit more dramatic than necessary. “Lance, after Pidge I would honestly feel safer if there was someone else in the house. You know my circumstances, you’re a nice guy,” she smirks, “even kind of cute.” Heat rose to Lance’s cheeks. Why would she use that word? “And you helped me this far. Please?” Well, Lance hadn’t considered Pidge coming back. The more he thought about it, the more likely he realized it was. Katie probably knew too much, and Pidge would be after Lance either way. This arrangement would protect both of them, or at least keep the safety in numbers. But... he wasn’t sure if he could keep Icebound a secret from Katie. In time, he’d have to trust her with his secret. The thought of that thrilled him; to have someone to confide his real life with. Katie fidgeted when he didn’t respond. “I accidentally saw the newspaper clipping in your room. And what happened to your family,” she confessed. “I can’t help but think they’d just want you as safe as possible.” Lance’s heart broke and he set his fork on the table, eyes downcast. Even after two years, the pain - the guilt - was still felt just as fresh. Sometimes he wondered if they were looking out for him, or if they blamed him for not being able to control his powers.

“It’s fine. I forgot I had it out,” he said evenly.

Katie’s fingers drummed next to her plate, teeth biting at her bottom lip in thought. “It’s… okay to miss them,” she encouraged. “I know what it’s like.” “I do miss them. A lot,” he stressed. His mom’s hugs, his dad’s laughter, his sibling’s harmless teasing all ran through his mind like a slideshow. “I know they wouldn’t want me to sulk, but at the same time...” He locked eyes with Katie with renewed resolve. “Let me help you find your family. If I’m moving in with you, I want to help out however I can.”

If there was a chance he could reunite Katie with her family, he would take it. There was no need for both of them to suffer forever. Katie’s eyes twinkled and her smile grew wider. Lance’s heart fluttered. This girl might be the doom of him. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. “You like video games?”

Lance smirked, “I know a great arcade right around the corner.”

~~~~~

Lance felt confident as he moved his character over the last hurdle in the video game. He kept his thumb pressed over the Power Save feature on the controller, making sure Loose Lips Lucy’s special attack was fully charged and ready for the moment Katie’s character got too close. Lucy crouched behind several crates, a favorite hiding spot that no first time opponent had ever found. Lance licked his lips in anticipation. It was his preferred strategy and was looking forward to showing off. Lance glanced at the timer. Thirty seconds left in the round, and when Lance would win off points accumulated instead of K.O. Until his controller buzzed, sending him into astonished confusion, and Lucy’s cartoonish blood was splattered across the screen. A giant K.O. Game Over flashed across his screen. “What?!” Lance exclaimed, looking for Katie. “How did you —?” His strategy was perfect, he used it for Icebound’s stakeouts for crying out loud! Katie leaned over from across him, smirking righteously. “Not a very subtle hiding spot.” “There is no way you found me,” Lance pouted. “You cheated.” “The consoles are back to back, there’s no way I could have seen you. Face it, you’ve met your match.” The smug look on her face threatened to melt his icy power core with how mad he was. Saving her from Pidge was one thing, but all bets were off when it came to video games.

It was on. “You haven’t even seen a fraction of what I can do. Best two out of three. On the ice planet,” he challenged. Katie grinned. “Challenge accepted, Lance. That’s my favorite map.” Lance’s anger proved fleeting. His blood pumped with excitement that he couldn’t remember, for once not fighting for his life or for others, a stupid grin refusing to come off his face. But before either could insert their tokens, a loud thud resounded off the side paneling. Lance looked down and let out a gasp. The owner of the arcade himself was on the ground and moaning in pain. The previously bustling center floor stood still, the crowd parting only for a large Galra Enforcer moving their way. Lance gulped as he recognized Throk of the Specials Division. Lance knelt by the downed man. “Hey, Rolo, dude, you okay?” he said, taking his hand and helping him up. “Don’t get yourself involved in this one, Kid, it isn’t worth it,” Rolo whispered quickly. “I already rang the police.” “Isn’t this pathetic, receiving help from a child,” Throk said condescendingly. The Galra man directed a cruel grin at both Lance and Rolo. Lance kept his gaze on the switchblade that Throk was currently flipping in and out threateningly. This situation would not end well if he couldn’t transform. Lance stepped forward and balled his fists at his sides, offering the most serious stare he had. “I’m not sure why you’re bothering Rolo and Nyma, but it’s not cool. You’ve got at least twenty witnesses. The police are not going to side with you, even if you are Galra.” Galra Corp was able to get away with a lot in the city in terms of politics and industry. Most employees were not like Throk, but those who worked security felt they were entitled to anything they wanted. Lance growled. With Pidge on the loose, dealing with corrupt Galra security - Throk had been on the receiving end of Icebound’s punches before - was the last thing he needed to deal with. “Please, Galra Corp owns the police.” Throk held the switchblade with an outstretched arm, pointed at Lance. “Tell the man to open his cash register, Little Hero,” he sneered. “I would not want anyone to get hurt.” Lance braced himself but did not back down though Throk’s words were soaked in sarcasm. Nerves tightened and his body prepared for the blow. None came. In a flash Throk was down on the ground, writhing in pain. He screamed. “Get them off! Get them off!” “You can stay there until the police get here,” Katie said calmly, as if she were discussing a cloudless day. Lance turned to find her still in front of her game, holding a small open jar. “Maybe you’ll think twice about doing whatever you want.” Lance took a closer look at Throk and he saw them. Tiny robots the size of ladybugs crawling over the aggressor’s skin. He turned to her in awe, grinning now that the threat had passed.”Robotics huh? Pretty cool.” Katie’s eyes grew wide. “Lance, look out!” Lance turned in time to see a frenzied Throk race towards him, bringing the blade back to strike. Dropping to his knees on instinct, he dodged the blow and scurried through Throk’s legs. Now having the advantage of being behind, Lance stood and, putting a bit of his powers into it, delivered a punch to Throk’s face just as the Galra was beginning to turn around.

Throk landed face down in front of Katie. She squatted and clicked the inside of her mouth, calling the microbots back inside the jar.

Just like Pidge calling in her tiny robots. Lance shivered. He supposed he’d best get used to more similarities; who knew how many inventions Pidge had stolen from Katie.

She whispered into Throk’s ear, but Lance hadn’t the time to ponder over what she might have said to him. He was too busy blushing over a kiss on the cheek from Rolo’s co-owner.

“You’re sweet, Lance,” Nyma told him, a bemused smile on her face, “but I really prefer you stay alive. You’re one of our frequent customers.”

Nyma didn’t mean anything by the kiss, he knew that, but the churning in his stomach was more from the warmth in his cheeks.

“I’m trying,” he said sheepishly. Now that the fight was over and adrenaline faded, Lance was more embarrassed than anything. Thankfully the crowds were already shrugging it off and going back to their various games.

“You pack a pretty good punch,” Katie said as she walked up to him. Her roundabout compliment and guarded smile sent his heart pounding in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“Must have gotten lucky,” Lance shrugged as casually as he could manage. Everyone dug the cool guy attitude, surely Katie would too. “Dad always told me I had a good arm for baseball,” he bragged.

Katie raised an eyebrow, but her smile remained. “Lucky for us then.”

“And you with your robots,” Lance pointed out. “That was amazing.”

Katie grinned smugly, and that familiar feeling of delight washed over Lance again. “Final projects are supposed to be spectacular. It’s no big deal. We make a pretty good team.”

“If you two think that, try Beezer’s challenge on Defenders of the Universe,” Rolo suggested.

“The first person shooter?” Katie inquired, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Didn’t you get that over a year ago?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. “No one’s beat it yet?”

The game was notorious among gaming circles to be extremely challenging, even now after being available to the public for years. It was ideally played with five, and had no solo mode, so two player was the hardest difficulty.

“Not yet,” Nyma said. “Why don’t you two give it a shot while the blood is still pumping. It’ll be on us; a thanks for taking care of that goon.”

Lance looked to Katie and she gazed back. Her amber eyes shone like the sun and Lance couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling up in perfect sync with her’s.

There was no need for words. They were going to beat that game.

~~~~~

“Did you see that last move?!” Lance rambled, jogging ahead of Katie and turning to face her as they walked - backwards in his case - out of the arcade. “I backflipped into the mob, hit three bulls eyes upside down - then my gun morphed into a sword!!!” He said excitedly. What a rush that had been - unlocking a secret feature, not even professional gamers knew about.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this elated and relaxed, hero problems forgotten for the moment.

“I know!” Katie squealed back, animatedly jumping and bringing her fists to her chest. Her smile matched his own, stretched wide and looked as if it could fall off. “I can’t believe the game let you use it before you could even see what it was! And the finishing blow - I will never get over that mech letting us dual wield those swords. The arms actually responded independently for us! How cool is that?!”

“The absolute coolest!” Lance agreed. He snorted - he was going to use that line for Icebound’s next battle. He stopped at the corner. One way would take him back to his apartment, the other to Katie’s house. “Too bad about the final boss though, we almost had him. I bet next time we wipe the floor.”

The briefest of frowns crossed her face, almost as if the idea hadn’t sunk in. “Next time?” Katie inquired.

“Well sure. I mean, if you want to.” Suddenly the hot cheeks were back and he avoided her face. “We do make a pretty good team and… I had a lot of fun today. Best in a long time,” he said honestly.

“I had a lot of fun, too,” she said, taking his hand, a warm smile back on her face. “Thank you, Lance.” Without warning, she leaned up on her toes and brushed his cheek with her lips. “Seriously. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

Despite the ominous tone to her statement, Lance hung on the kiss. Although friendly, after their chemistry at the arcade and willingness to help each other - and especially moving in together - he seriously doubted they could just stay as friends. He’d only just met Katie, but he felt like he’d known her for years.

Lance took a deep breath. He could afford to have fun, but first and foremost he needed to remind himself that he did this for their mutual protection from Pidge.

He forced his smile back at her. “Noted.” He looked around the corner. “Your place is this way right?”

Katie nodded. “I need to prepare for you moving in, and you need to pack. I think we’ll be fine separately for one night.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small wad of green. “Here,” she said, placing it in his hands. “A thank you for now.”

Lance opened his hands and let out a slight gasp at the amount of money he held. “I can’t take this,” he said and reached out to give it back to her.

“No, keep it,” Katie insisted, pushing his hands away. “We’ll be living together, so you can use it to buy groceries or something.”

Only at her additional prompting did he place it in his own pocket. She was placing a lot of trust in him, the least he could do was return it and take it with grace. If he could find it within himself to do that, it would make his duty as a hero less unbearable.

“Okay,” he finally said.

Katie’s lip wobbled. “Thanks again for today. I’m looking forward to hanging out with you a lot more. It reminded me of better days with my brother.”

Lance knew that feeling. So he offered what always helped him, a hug. It began with wrapping an arm around her shoulder. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he held his tightly around her shoulders. “We both miss our families. I promised I’d help. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“Why are you so concerned about helping me? I’m practically a stranger. It’s not your problem,” she sniffled.

Because it was a hero’s duty. Because he sympathized. Because he was in the right place at the right time.

“Because it's the right thing to do. Fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

Katie was silent for a long moment, then took a deep breath, voice no longer cracking. “You’re a good person, Lance. I can see why your best friend is a hero.”

Lance scoffed. “My best friend is an engineer who lives across the country.”

Katie blinked, crying suddenly stopped but eyes filled with tears and confusion. “Icebound is an engineer?”

Quiznak.

“Oh! No! My other best friend!” Lance said, backpedaling. He needed to get out of here before he incriminated himself further. He couldn’t tell Katie now and put her in even more danger. “Since Hunk is so far away, I can’t hang out with him much. Heh, I guess it's not too different from hanging out with a superhero. I don’t see him as much as I’d like either.”

The lie came off a little more easily than Lance would have liked, and it had the desired effect. Katie seemed to buy it.

“Well, you’ve got me to hang out with now. I’m looking forward to playing video games and showing you all my robots.”

“Perfect!” Lance said spritely. “Well, I’d better get packing. You good to walk home?” He bit his lip - he really should walk her home at the very least. His father would have scolded him.

“I’ll be fine, I’d rather you get packing. I’ll feel a lot safer once you’re all moved in.”

They exchanged a wave and Lance turned to walk back to his apartment. Guilt churned in his stomach. Would Pidge use this opportunity to strike? Had she been watching them all day?

Lance turned his walk into a jog.

#plance #pidgance #voltron legendary defender #rueitae #my writing #vld fanfic

15 notes · View notes

runicbeast · 5 years

Text

Self-shippers, wanna see something cool?!

I've been scrolling through / following the #self shipping tag for a while. Noticed I have like, a F/o set up most people probably don't have that I'd love to share / teach anyone else to make! Just shoot me a message, don't be afraid, I literally have nothing better to do and love when people take interest in whatever I'm up to! I'm not worried about damaging any Street CredTM on my main here, I haven't been relevant in forever, if at all.

(This is my first time using a “Keep reading” cut off, since this post is sort of long. I think that sends folks to my blog, sorry if my font is hard to read in, idk how to change it. There’s always copy-pasting into a word processor)

The place where this amazing thing lies? Google Sheets. I guarantee you, it's useful for WAY more than data entry. I've been building up this "F/o set up", let's call it King Kong, an arbitrary name I'd given it that just sorta stuck, since 10/14/17. It all started with the Grade Book template.

Wow, it's been a while since I looked at the base template, so much has been changed since then. Not gonna show the real thing / parallel to this page, because sensitive info, but I will talk 'bout it's features. No one's ever asked and I never plan on sharing the sheet itself, so I'm just gonna rant on all the capabilities (and if anyone's interested, I can share some formulas to help build your own)

Note: This is all 1 Google Sheet, made the whole thing myself except for the /very/ base, which I think was the School Grades template? It's been a year since I started it, it didn't start this awesome.

There's a page full of graphs, info grabbed from my F/os to find what I'm attracted to. I hope to build The Ultimate OC, or one geared towards myself one day with this info.

You get one (1) graph. Looks like I have a preference.

The most used page is the Mobile viewport, or "Mobile RE", (Mobile Random Events) shaped to fit my phone. In the center is a randomized prompt, with pieces taken from another page. A different F/o is generated for each prompt, sometimes multiple (road trips are fun). Some prompts have a "switch" that is effected by character traits, such as characters listed as "Introvert" or "Extrovert" , or “Punchy-fist” or “Pacifist” may see a slightly different prompt

Example prompts -

"Spongebob Squarepants seems to have caught a bad case of the hiccups. Seems frustrating ~ You're just glad it ain't you."

(Has an Honest / Dishonest switch) "While you and Spongebob Squarepants are walking around town, you find a wallet. You could care less what is done with it, but Spongebob Squarepants insists the wallet be returned to it's owner. It's even got the ID in there and everything, so you oblige. One good deed a day." (While the Dishonest may just pocket it)

(Note: Spongebob ain't in there, just first rando I could think of XD)

I usually just peek at these for like a sec / enjoy 'em / imagine 'em in the moment, but you can write as many prompts as you want, even using them as actual prompts for drawing or fanfiction writing! I’d love to share the premise of some of the prompts I’ve collected if anyone is interested there.

There's also a refresh button, a break switch (seen here "Turned off for editing"), 25+ color themes (got "Chocolate" set in the pic), Night reading mode (love reading white words on black text, it’s on 99% of the time), Game modes such as "Best of" which just shows my favorite prompts, pronoun / name dropdown lists. want your F/o to call you your nickname? One of your kin names? Genderfluid and don’t want to be locked down?.

Sound too good to be true? Hell naw mate, shit's real. Just needed to put a little work into it and boom there it is!

Looking outside the viewport, there's a currency system (Pearls), along with that, a gambling prompt exists (Though I have to calculate winnings / make changes manually), Merchant's Prompt (they can buy stat boosting / effect items w/ pearls), Inventories, Statuses (Cursed Tiki effects a character's stats), Holiday indicators for seasonal prompts, you bet your ass I have a column for each character's MBTI / Enneagram, friendships between characters, even across media sources if it works.

Testing laboratory to check if new characters I've found would fit here (linked because it wouldn’t upload to the post for some reason?)

Team Puzzle the F/os are working on, it's 82% done ~ Each piece is picked up when a certain prompt comes up.

I may not have a self-insert made special for self-shipping or a detailed story of how I met any of 'em / life together like most you have, which is super cool. But I've got this.

I realize some folks still may be too shy to contact me, so here's some useful formulas to start with -

=IF(A1="word", "Yes it is word" , "Nope it's not word") ^ You can nest this formula like there's no tomorrow. Can be used with below for random chance. Ex. Under 50 is tails, over is heads

=if(iserror(SEARCH("thing to find",A1)), "Not contain", "Contains" ) ^ Similar to above, checks if a cell CONTAINS a cell instead of is EXACTLY that word

=RANDBETWEEN(1,100) ^ Classic out of 100 randomizer, but numbers can be adjusted

=CHOOSE(RANDBETWEEN(1,2), "Apple", "Banana") ^ Another random choice. Can def have more than 2

=INDIRECT("column letter" & cell with row number) ^ This thing is very smart, let’s you outsource the location of a cell

Say these are all in column A - Red (A1), Blue (A2), Yellow (A3)

=INDIRECT("A" & B1)

Then in B1 or something you have either the number 1, 2, or 3. It will use that number to know where to grab the info from :)

I use this in my main Mobile RE viewport, the row number is randomized outside of it, also allows info / notes on specific prompts to come up in a separate cell since they use the same row but a different column

=INDEX(HP!D1:D88 , L21 , 1 )

^ Incredibly similar to the above “indirect” formula. I grabbed this straight from the sheet. L21 is like B1 in the other formula, and the HP!D1:D88 is like “A” in the other, but this one grabs info ACROSS SHEETS, HP is in a different tab than this formula is in! Very useful

=index(E129:M129, randbetween(1, counta(E129:M129) ) ) ^ Big ol' text randomizer. This one is for a single prompt tho

And that's like 99% of my formulas, I probably have minor ones floating around tho. Reblog if you've been inspired / want to contact me to make your own / want to spread this around!

#self shipping #self ship #oc x canon #oc shipping #self insert #i hope this is useful to someone or other #reader x canon

3 notes · View notes

inexchangeforyoursoul · 6 years

Text

Luffy, son.... you are not supposed to serve tea this hot to people… (I wanted that to be its separate chapter, but it turned out to be waaay too short for that, and thus, a waste of ch numbers. Art incoming, too; because of that, this will be another “tumblr exclusive (for a while)” part.)

As I’m rather happy with this thing and it’s a halfway Law-centric chapter, I shall put it in the main tags. (this is a dumb LawXOC thing; this one seems to beee.... roughly 4500 words, attagirl)

This was the part that was fun to write even while unmotivated. I think y'all understand why. Now, for the less pleasant things, out of which I'm missing the next two or three chapters entirely… ho, boy. Now, this will be power writing. (Also thanks to anyone who might be here who might have written any of the anon messages I got to keep me going past this particular chapter???)

Ps.: do not ever sterilize your whole entire house if you have a kid. They are meant to catch things so their immune systems get stronger… and have work to do. Because if they don't, they get bored, and a bored immune system will look for shit to defend against anyway; this is how your kid gets allergies ranging from 10 pollens through animals to fucking SUNSHINE. They are meant to be sick a lot in the first couple of years, deal with it. And fucking vaccinate them, too.

31. We need to talk

8 o'clock; there's noone opening the door gently, nor is there anyone near-falling down the stairs. All is perfectly still.

Law drums on the desk with his fingers and sighs; he kind of saw this coming. Doesn't make convincing himself to go out and fetch the girl any easier, however. He's about as unwilling to seek her out as it is the other way round.

A good ten minutes later, he drags himself out of his room and up to the surface; it's relatively silent for a Saturday morning, but a lot of these idiots have been out partying, so whatever. He wouldn't be surprised if half of his crew was still out snoring on a bank or alley.

It's all the more scary when a masked rando pops up right beside him at the railing of the Thousand Sunny with a cheerful ‘yo, Kat’ as he starts checking on her whereabouts.

It's Luffy with one of those fucking… things. Looks like a cheap imitation, too. Seriously… if he didn't know it was one of these idiots, he would have gotten a heart attack. He's still way too jumpy in this body, goddamn.

“Strawhat-ya, honestly... does Kat-ya make a face like this all day?” he asks, with mild annoyance, pointing at his scowling self. “Also… take that thing off.” It's kind of creeping him out, now that he's taken a good look at it up close.

“Ah, right, it’s you, Torao… and nope, it's pretty rare,” Luffy nods, then plucks the mask off his head. “Found it between these big warehouses! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I'm not surprised it was ditched… Anyway, if even you can tell that much, then why do you keep mixing us up?” It's been like… no, not ‘like,’ it HAS been a week, for fuck's sake.

“Well, hugger you is definitely not you you, but otherwise... both Kat and Torao are worried, sad or angry most of the time, so it's hard to tell them apart, to be honest,” he states wondering as he drops the prop on deck with relative care and puts his hands on the back of his head to lounge at the railing. “Like today. And, whenever they are really tired, it feels like the prickly needle thing you get when your leg falls asleep. Everyone else tends to be more like... slow waves, when you stand in water.” He stretches one leg out and flaps the sandal to his soles.

“Huh?” What? Being talked about in third person is also weird, but… excuse him?

“The feel you two give off is pretty similar is all. Though I guess Kat is also more tense overall, at least she used to be. And she has a lot of weird jokes. That I usually don’t get,” he squints. Whenever the others find something she said funny and he doesn't get it, he feels left out, really.

“No, I mean… what would she be pissed off at?” And sad. And tense… He won't even try comprehending that other stuff. Anyhow, she can be the very literal definition of a nervous system at times, that's for sure. The very first thing he knew about her was that she was either really nonchalant about something, or about to have a panic attack, after all. And not exactly in the situations that matched those reactions... she shrugged off a date with the Reaper, but was really anxious when Nami dragged her off to get her cuts and bruises treated by Chopper on board of the Sunny two minutes later. But... halt, stop. It just registered… what does rubber boy mean by him being similar to her?

Luffy shrugs. “Dunno and don't really care. It's not even directed at anything, though... which is the weird thing about it.” He hops up on the railing to sit, then crosses his arms.

Law sighs… his observation haki will never be on this level. And the way Luffy formulates it is akin to an 8-year-old giving descriptions of a dream, which doesn't help, either. Reading faces and gestures can only get you so far, doesn't it.

Scowling a bit, Luffy eventually comes to a conclusion. “Maybe she just hates herself.”

The surgeon is a little taken aback by that; going by what this dunce just said, it makes sense, but... “Why would she...?” he mumbles mostly to himself, also crossing his arms. Going by whatever he could gather from Shachi and the rumors from her time in the dining hall, it did cross his mind that she might have some self esteem issues, that’s why he decided to be better safe than sorry and basically walk on eggshells when dealing with her. How she acts in general can support the idea, too, when considering some traits from another point of view…

“You are the one hanging out with her all the time, so why do you ask me?” Luffy pouts. The expression turns into a thoughtful one soon, then turns into mild worry. “… do you hate yourself, Torao?”

In the blink of an eye, he and his body (that’s worryingly cold in the first place) both realize that it’s like twelve degrees Celsius at best outside, and that not taking a sweater over a thin undergarment and breezy, medium sleeved shirt was a Mistake™. “You're… overthinking it,” he responds while waving dismissively.

“Really? That's a relief!” the other captain sighs and puts a smile back on.

“... yeah.” Perhaps it all boils down to her having a similar way to handle her emotions? She did keep being in pain a secret, which is something he does, so that's one thing they have in common. But goddammit, Strawhat… don't just say things like this all of a sudden.

He peeks then up towards the garden, where rhythmic little thuds have been disturbing the silence for the past minute. They really ought to talk.

Right now.

This is much easier to do once Nami appears from the direction Kat could be, as the navigator won’t let her captain go alone and get himself lost again in town when latter declares his intention to go back, even despite his excuses of being able to see the Sunny from the church tower when it’s not dark. Having gotten rid of Luffy surprisingly quick this way, Law stops on the stairs as soon as he’s high enough to look around. He peeks towards where he suspects her being, and indeed, the noise that started somewhere down the line was caused by a dazed Kat. He weighs his options for a moment; on one hand, taking some time off is a reasonable way to handle this. On the other… if he leaves this up to the girl, she may never show her face again, which is no viable route for him to take. He’ll definitely have to take initiative.

Noticing the light steps closing in on her, Kat stops drumming her heels against the ship.

Law sighs. “Look…. I know I’m making you uncomfortable right now, but I really kind of need my body back as soon as possible.” … maybe not the best start, but he got the point across.

After a short pause, Kat bonks her head into the wooden pillar in front of her with considerable power, and takes a long, sharp breath.

Law watches in perturbed bafflement. Um… maybe… it was a bad start, after all.

“I’ll manage,” she sighs, straightening herself at once. “It’s hard to ignore, and cuts my productivity in half, but… is, what it is. I’ve kind of made peace with telling my boss as-is, too, so that won’t be bothering me.” She pauses the fast rant for a moment to cut the speed, and stares into the waves licking away at the side of the ship. She had enough time to think about this somewhat objectively during her short-ish wake around midnight and later in the morning. “And you… shouldn’t have to worry about it, either. Once you're all gone for good, it will fade away soon. Knowing myself, I might not even be able to remember your name in a few months, anyway,” she shrugs all limp. “I’m no good with names, so… it would be nothing new.” It’s a famous and super simple name that’s not hard to catch, so she likely will. Maybe even his surname, since it’s a funny one. No promises, though.

… twisting knives much? Sheesh, he never suspected her of being capable of such… savagery. And he thought Luffy was being blunt today… Generally, he likes both of their honesty quite a lot, but Kat saying that he’ll be deleted from mind as soon as he’ll be out of sight is… a bit too much. And frankly, it hurts like a bitch. If he was in any way unsure about how he felt about her until this, well... there are no doubts about it now. He better keeps all of this to himself, though.

After all... it really is for the best. Technically, good news, even. And he also gets her; it’s the pragmatic thing to do. Having any kind of amiable relationship with a pirate is not exactly easy. There's no sure way to reach them, and sending messages to someone endangers that person. Hell, they all could die the day after setting sail for all he knows. A part of him has an even deeper understanding of what she means… it's not about worrying about anyone getting killed, quite the contrary. She's sheltering herself from getting hurt, by simply staying indifferent. He handles strangers the same way, and did the same for the longest time while with the Family: laughing whenever he felt like it... helping if he wanted to, or if he had to... generally enjoying the company, but not building any meaningful relationships. The question is, though... how did she get there, to this mindset? Few normal people do that. It could be just the way she’s always been, but considering how much she strives to please people around her, and how sensitive she seems to be to other’s moods in the first place…

Who hurt her?

Getting no response and feeling his eyes on her back is getting to her fast; Kat puts her head back against the pole and continues. “... Sorry, that sounds... really mean... but I suck at keeping in touch anyway. People just... come and go?” She shrugs, then starts to swing her legs again, until her heels hit the ship and she stops with limbs still flailing about. “I have no idea what my kinda-friends from high school or college are up to, either. Even when I think about fun times and miss someone… I never sit down and write a letter or go visit. I don’t get any further than grabbing a pen, but… what even are the chances they still live where they used to, huh?” She puts on a bitter smile that fades away fast. “Am I... a bad person? For that?” Her voice is unstable and hoarse at this point. She takes a shaky breath, followed by a gulp.

“... no, you're not.” Not being able to keep up with people is okay. Being stuck in a cage of her own making is, though. He takes a moment of consideration, then joins her at the railing.

Kat stares down to where her hands should be through the white pillar as Law plops down, then speaks up after a short pause while holding back a sniffle. ”The other week, I was wondering... why none of them tried to hit me up, either. Ever. I guess I'm just... that insignificant...” The sniff escapes and she also needs to wipe off a tear.

“…” He didn’t plan on joining a therapy session, nor doing anything else past talking, but a good old shoulder pat is definitely warranted here, so that’s what he does. Realizing that the cold hand made her shiver is too little, too late, so he just rolls with it. “Now, now… you know like a dozen of infamous people as of last Tuesday, so that automatically makes you count for something.” Her self esteem really seems to be in a bad shape. There's definitely some asses that ought to be kicked on these islands, because this is definitely not normal behavior.

Cannot help but crack a smile at that. “If you say so.” She rubs her eyes. “Sorry, I went off tangent again.”

“As did I the other day… and? Got it out of your system?” Seems like she’s bouncing back at least.

“Kinda,” she breathes after a pause.

“Just kinda?”

“…” She rests her temples against the railing again, even though it’s starting to hurt, bump she just made notwithstanding. “Every now and then, I keep thinking… how there would be someone in my place to do all the things I do.” Her eyebrows furrow. “If not now, then later. I’m just another pebble in the sea, and it feels… suffocating.”

“… I see.” Oh, boy… this actually sounds like more zero filter stuff, but without drugs to make it weird. Which is iffy, since he’s far from being a psychologist. Well, is what it is… take notes, analyze, and most importantly, watch your fucking mouth.

“Like, I know it’s the same for important people, inventing and doing actual, impactful stuff. Because, there’s little difference in the grand scheme of things, is there? It just doesn’t matter whether something happens today or in a hundred years. Everyone is replaceable. As is everything else. What I wanna say, is… wanting attention… at all… makes me feel selfish. Even when it probably shouldn’t.” Feeling the hand on her shoulder makes it tingle… she’d move, if not for knowing that he would lift it off again.

“… Um…” Okay… he might have stepped into this one hard. Aside from blinking wildly, because this has suddenly nosedived into deep waters… he needs a second here. The spaced-out girl he got to know in the past two weeks thinks about this shit regularly? She did seem less bubbly and way less excitable than she actually is at first glance, but… holy shit. She actually is pretty good at brooding herself. If he wasn’t so dumbfounded, he’d be impressed. “… wow, I… never considered the possibility that you could be a nihilist.” A very sentimental nihilist. That’s certainly what he takes from this. The conclusion is kind of enlightening.

She remains silent for a second, then squints. “... all I crave is death.”

Law lets out an exasperated sigh, then slaps her on the back of the head resulting in another light bonk. “Don’t you think for a second that I cannot tell the difference between you being serious and on the brink of grinning like an idiot,” he tells her off with the other hand on his hip. She may be trying to keep a poker face up, but none can do if she’s gonna use that overly dramatic delivery anyway. This woman, he swears to god.

And, as soon as the jig is up, there it is: the smile.

She reaches up to scratch the head area that stings a little after getting smacked. “Heh… sorry, had to break that gloomy mood.” Though, no lie, she does like talking about heavy stuff like that. If Law did not seem to be bothered by it, she probably would have continued.

“By willingly pissing me off?” Was that really necessary?

“Well… it worked, didn’t it?”

“Touche,” he breathes, crossing his arms. “But don’t make a habit out of it, if you know what’s good for you.” If she has actually figured out how to dig down to his berserk buttons, she’s playing with fucking fire, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she found enjoyment the activity. “I can fix myself up as soon as I get my body back, and rearranging your internal organs or face with, or without my powers, is not beneath me.”

She nods, humming. “I didn’t doubt for a second that you’d make a feisty kuja, alright. Will not overdo the gremlin act.”

“… good.”

After a silent pause, Kat stops rubbing her head. “… say, Law?”

He lets out a questioning hum.

“Are you in pain… because you were sick?”

“…” Is there a point to tell her anything if it’s so obvious in the first place? Oh well, she's asking, so… “Yeah. There are a few intergrowths I cannot really do anything with. Removing the lead deposits left my body aching at random, the bigger they were, the worse it is… you’ve probably noticed, but some areas like the left side of my torso and the right jaw are the main culprits. Those spots tend to act out a little even when everything else is fine. And I have additional god awful headaches when it’s too hot or cold outside and I don’t hidrate proper. These are honestly the worst aspects of it, no lie.”

“Act out like... Saturday evening?” When she first noted how something was a little off? It’s the only common experience they have…

He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, like that. The odd tissue that seems cancerous during a checkup, I can get rid of... but the fucking pain just won’t go away. Unless I kill off the receptors altogether, but that strikes me as an exceptionally stupid idea.” Even if it sounds really tempting at times. Maybe if he did it to his internal organs only…

“Wait…” Kat takes the first look at him today, and looks very much taken aback at that; “did you say cancer?” As soon as he looks back, she averts her eyes again. Seeing him, save looking him in the eye, is just… not something she can handle at the moment.

He blinks at the reaction, but keeps his eyes on her for a second. “Heard me right. Don’t shit yourself, I can deal with it.” Looking back in front of him, he adds, “I’m also legally infertile, but that’s the least of my problems.” He’s unlikely to get old, too, but honestly… there’s only so many times you can cheat your expiration date.

“Oh,” she says a second later. And sounds quite disappointed at that.

“... don't you ‘oh’ me. You can have all the kids you want for all I care.” As long as her plans involve someone else, that is. … aw fuck, brain, don't you have anything else to comment on?

“Oh, no, no, no, it's just…” She gives the sideburns a scratching; “This is going to sound so stupid… but you seem like… the dad type?”

Law laughs out at the ludicrous idea. “Me? Seriously?” Geez, that’s so… out of the blue. Even more so than the being married line. Never even seen him with a kid around, has she? They just tend to shit their pants right away. He needs to put a hand on his temples to process this a bit… and to make sure there’s no headache caused by stupid on the way. “God… the hell makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters… someone like Luffy would drop his toddler into the ocean by accident, which you would… not.” As simple as that. From what little she’s heard about Garp’s parenting… even if Law happened to be on the strict side, there is, like, no competition here, honestly.

A millisecond of consideration ends up in a concerned, solemn nod on Law’s part. He wouldn’t want Strawhat oversee children in general, or at the very least, not leave them with him all alone. He out-dads him in any technicality regarding safety and common sense, so that’s a score.

“You still could be fun around, though,” Kat continues leaning back; “Like… you would totally do something like sticking them to the ceiling as punishment for being bad,” she muses with a little relaxed smile, pulling up some average family scenarios. “but, unless you are obviously angry with them, they would love it instead. You could experiment with pretty much everything from floating to chopping them up, but all would backfire spectacularly as they think of it as just another game.”

“... can’t argue with that,” the notes, raising a brow. “Little hellraisers be like that.” Punishing a kid that's acting out, well… Best bet would be the basic ‘send them into a corner’ situation instead of getting creative, huh?

“You’d also be the go-to solution for homework… despite not being helpful at all.” Definitely trolling the shit out of anyone who’s trying to use him for an easy pass… yes, yes. Would come through when needed, too, she knows that much firsthand.

“Correct,” Law nods with a smug grin. He absolutely would be the most useless genius around. It would drive them crazy and he would be enjoying the hell out of it. If they legitimately did not understand something, though… that’s actually negotiable.

Having seen enough of his self-assured smile from the corner of her eye, she addresses him directly. “... get off your high horse, Law. You might be a little shit, but you’d also be out-bawling anyone at any milestone your kiddos reach whatsoever,” she states with an amused look.

“Absolutely not,” comes the indignant reply; “Do I look like the sentimental type to you?”

She takes a long, thoughtful look at his general direction. “Look… I might not be able to guarantee it, but as far as I’m concerned, you would transform into the worst mess of a doting ‘pappa’ there ever was as soon as you’d be holding your firstborn.” First day of school and graduations would be just as bad, if not worse… god save everyone if he’s around for a wedding. Him sobbing in a tux while trying to operate a visual transponder is not a mental image she’ll forget any time soon. In fact, she’s going to treasure the hell out of it. Even if she’s more used to him looking like her, so it takes some extra imagination points to see him in his own body.

Her chuckle earns a very unamused face. “I won’t even begin to try and imagine what you just thought of, but really? Really really?”

“Ve-really,” she states while booping his nose, then gets her hand pushed off to the side. “Honestly… you’re saying it’s very unlikely in the first place, right?” She ponders, scratching her head while sitting upright again. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be all over a baby? Beating whatever low odds?”

“...” She’s probably not wrong on that one. Up to eight, maybe ten per cent aren’t a lot...

“And let’s not even get started on the naming process… You have at least…” her fingers straighten one by one; feather guy, little girl, baby’s grandparents, and who knows, who else? “four, if not a dozen they’d have to pry from your cold, dead hands before settling for anything else!” He based his entire image on one of these people, for fuck’s sake. First boy would definitely get that name, whatever it may be.

… not to mention the chances of a healthy child…

“And… little ones are always sick or some shit, right? You’d go into doctor overdrive. Give them checkups like every fucking week, and be staring from over the bathroom door to make sure they wash their teeth, and… dude, I’d fucking hate to be your kid, oh my god!” At least it takes him like point five seconds to sterilize the entire house instead of scrubbing everything all day like a manic housewife, but holy shit…

“Kat…“

“I have no idea how you’d handle feeding them in any capacity, though… you run, like, exclusively on a handful of veggies, rice, potatoes… and chicken… and fish. And, you suck at cooking.” And the occasional drink. Would he be willing and able to make legit sandwiches…? He has no qualms touching the bread, made those French toasts, so that’s a start. This kind of presupposes him being allowed in the kitchen like a single dad, but still, she can’t help wondering how he would tackle that humongous elephant in the room if the need arises.

“Kat-ya, stop.”

The edge in the word startles her enough to delete the train of thought altogether. “Uh… um…” Did she say something wrong again? Did she hurt him? Or insult him? Is… is he angry…?

He sighs, staring into the darkness underneath the waves. “I suppose… you are right,” he says a few seconds later, his head also meeting the railing. “I am… the dad type.”

She stares down at her now interlocked hands; the images she found so amusing before… look sickly and pale all of a sudden. A quick reality check has sucked all life out of them. Managed to fuck his day up again, huh?

“Dreaming… is dangerous,” Law concludes. The last time he did something like that… came with just another harsh wake-up call.

“… sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you.” Again.

“Eh, I’ll get over it.” However… he’s once again reminded of the fact that he’d been living to fulfill a singular goal for over a decade, and ever since he’s pretty much reached it, he’s been feeling… well, rather lost, to be honest. Stretch goals, like going against Kaido are a sufficient distraction at best. Sometimes he hears a little voice in the back of his head breaking through regardless before muffling it, talking about being tired of this life… bringing up the clinic of his own he's always wanted… having a home to return to.

Peace.

He knows better than to hope for any of that.

A single finger tapping his arm makes him realize that his eyes and nose cavity are burning up. This is followed by her barely audible, little mouse voice; “... Law?”

He takes a shaky breath and rubs his temples, sneaking in a finger to wipe away the half-ripe tear from the corner of an eye. “I’m fine, I’m…” he comes to a halt upon looking at her; “oh my god, are you crying?”

“... a little,” Kat squeaks after swallowing once.

Law snorts all of a sudden, then breaks out in painful laughter. The tears are also coming, but fuck it, because... while he’s hurting, this… also feels kinda good. Actually, it feels great. Talking about all of this… is great. She’s a better psychologist than he could ever aspire to be. Cafe girl… you are too fucking nice for your own good. Sincerely, fuck you.

As soon as the surprise wears off, Kat joins in, too.

After a solid minute or two, Law flops on the grass with hands covering his face. “... both of us… are kinda fucked up, huh?” he ponders out loud after the last couple of laughs. It’s kind of a dumb question; who even is not fucked in the head from all the people that he knows? He should have known that she was no different, even if the causes are still a mystery. No wonder the two of them can hit it off.

“I guess so,” Kat sniffs, rubbing her entire face that must be as red as it feels.

Sliding his freezing hands lower, Law stares skyward at the thickening clouds for a while. Laughing and crying are both exhausting… not to mention doing both at once. It feels like floating in a weird dream. Peaceful, even. Every weight has slid on his back, which is neatly supported by this nice ship made of pure sunshine, leaving him to breathe freely for the time being. He would say a ‘thank you,’ but it gets stuck somewhere in his throat.

He must be in really fucking deep, huh. Not that he minds, though… it feels really nice, after all. A little too much to be true, yes. But for now… he doesn’t want to worry about his short future. Instead, right here, right now... he just wants to enjoy this moment. As much as he can. As long as he can. To the fullest.

#opfanfic #opfic #one piece fanfiction #Trafalgar Law #Kate writes #KMKY

3 notes · View notes