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serowotonin · 3 years

Text

falling ; bakugou k.

pairing ( bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ) wordcount ( 2.4k ) genre ( fluff & basically pining )

↷ a hc-styled narrative describing the four stages bakugou katsuki goes through as he finds himself falling for you . . .

STAGE I ( impression ) ;

the first time bakugou laid eyes on you was during the entrance exam at UA.

back then, you were just another face in the crowd of faces he was going to have to beat to earn his spot in UA

the first time bakugou spoke to you wasn’t memorable to him either

like with everyone else, he was loud and rude and made it very clear he wasn’t interested in playing friends

after that you became a part of the class, just another extra, someone who’d just get in the way

that was all he thought you were…

until you kicked todoroki’s ass one day during training

the teachers had paired everyone in the class and told you to practice your 1-on-1 combat skills using your quirk

bakugou, who was paired with kirishima went first

you and todoroki were to be the last pair

despite a good effort put up by kirishima, bakugou still ended up winning that round

when it was finally yours and todoroki’s turn, bakugou paid extra attention

in his mind, he knew todoroki was powerful and someone to watch out for

but what happened was quite unexpected

you maneuvered easily through todoroki’s attacks with a combination of physical prowess and creative usage of your quirk

let’s just say his ice didn’t work on you and he was caught off guard, allowing you to snatch a win

needless to say, most of your classmates were a bit surprised at first

bakugou included

they knew you were strong but they didn’t know you were that skilled

whatever the rest of the class thought didn’t matter to bakugou though

all he knew was that now he had to keep an eye on you

STAGE II ( perspective ) ;

after that event, bakugou did indeed keep his eye on you

it started off with him observing your moves whenever the class had to do any training exercises

he saw you fight with todoroki a couple more times after that

those didn’t end in easy victory for you as it did before because todoroki was now more wary of you

however, the way you evaded and countered his attacks was something to be praised

in bakugou’s subconscious opinion at least

your moves were carefully thought out and bakugou could see that

he could see the effort and practice you had put into perfecting them

not only that, he could also see the natural talent that you had to be able to become this strong

and it wasn’t only your fighting capabilities

you were also smart

maybe he hadn’t noticed it before but he did now

you seemed to always know the answer when a teacher called on you and your grades were great

slowly, but surely, you gained respect in his eyes

if he knew one thing about you, it was that you were maybe the tiniest bit better than the other extras

for a while it stayed like this, him acknowledging you but never making it obvious and you just doing your thing

that was of course until one day in the morning before class started

mina, kirishima, and sero were talking about things as they usually were and somehow the conversation led to you

they were talking about how strong and smart you were and going on about stuff

bakugou must’ve turned his head in their direction or something but mina noticed him listening so asked him cheekily what he thought of you

“y/n? of course they’re strong. anyone could see that.”

he said that pretty loudly and didn’t seem to notice you walking into the classroom

and of course you heard

“did my ears deceive or did the bakugou katsuki just praise me?” you teased

he was pretty embarrassed, blushing and sweating a bit but trying to hide it

soon after though, class started and the ordeal was forgotten

but something about that interaction led to you and bakugou becoming closer

closer in that instead of passing the other off as another strong classmate as you usually would, you’d actually greet each other and talk

you’d say hello to him in the mornings and goodbye after school and he’d just grunt or nod your way

but this was what it meant to be close to bakugou anyway

during the weeks that passed, bakugou found himself noticing you even more

before he only paid attention to your skills and thought about you as an enemy or rival of sorts

now it seems as if he’s just noticing the little things about you and your personality that make you who you were

he wasn’t doing it on purpose god forbid

no no it was just him being unknowingly observant

weeks turned into months and months turned into years

in a blink of an eye, you were all well in your second year

with everything that happened, you and bakugou became close

close enough for you to tease him at random times and close enough for him to ask you to fight him as training

by then it was safe to say bakugou knew you

he knew the little quirks you had

he knew your different smiles, your different laughs

he knew your favorite foods and your not so favorite ones

he knew the many different little things that made you you

STAGE III ( contradiction ) ;

before the start of the third year, the class decided to have a little get-together party of sorts

to celebrate the start of their last year in high school and to catch up as everyone’s been busy with internships and whatnot

you spent the break away from tokyo so it’s been a while since you saw the rest of the class

naturally you were excited to be able to meet them all casually again before the intense studying and training that awaited you all

bakugou, on the other hand, wasn’t too excited

frankly, he could do without seeing the class before school

but when he heard you were going to be there, he also agreed to go

so there you two were with the rest of the class at a cinema buying drinks and popcorn before your movie started

the neon lights and the prospect of popcorn lit up your face and bakugou couldn’t help but stare

there was just something, something he couldn’t quite figure out

it’s not that you were beautiful, it’s not that you looked cute in that outfit, it’s not that your smile was making his heart flutter

no it wasnt any of that true though they may be

you just.. you looked nice

thats why he was staring

yeah he hasn’t seen you in a while and you come back looking *nice*

of course he would stare

anyone would

apparently you had noticed him staring though, so you sent a wink and a grin his way before turning back to the popcorn and drinks

in other words, you killed him

with ridiculously high levels of cute and nice

kirishima and sero were just watching the whole thing happen and hell was it obvious to them

their boi was falling hard

now they knew he’d never admit it and they knew you weren’t likely to do anything about his “crush” even if it was obvious to you too

so…

while bakugou was busy helping you carry your popcorn, they devised a rather devious plan

operation: jelly burst

objective? none other than to make explody boiy jealous

for what reason? no reason really it’s just fun to mess with him and this is probably the first time he’s had this big a crush

once everyone finished buying popcorn and was walking into the cinema, operation: jelly burst was put into action

“hey y/n ! come sit next to me” — sero

so you did, nothing strange bout that, sero was a good of yours anyway, nothing strange at all

bakugou moved to come sit next to you too but kiri hurried past him and sat down on your other side before he could

“oh hey bakubro didn’t see ya there sorry”

the seat kirishima stole was the last seat on the aisle

and bakugou was forced to go sit somewhere else

alone

poor guy</3

the seat he found was a few rows above yours though and all went according to the jelly burst plan

by the end of the movie, bakugou was in the foulest mood and no one, except for the 2 lads sitting on either side of y/n, knew why

operation: jelly burst didnt end there though

see they got him jelly but they haven’t gotten him to burst

the next week at school, kirishima and sero both acted really nice to you

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but they did talk to you just a tad bit more than usual

either way bakugou noticed big time and he did not like it

he did not like it one bit

the jelly was there alright

it was just boiling to unprecedented levels

pretty soon, the boys dumped the idea of operation: jelly burst

mainly cos it was taking too long

but also because bakugou had become at least 10x more hostile

except to you of course

for some reason, a reason absolutely no one could figure out(sarcasm intended), he was just

quiet around you

didnt yell but didnt really talk to you either

whenever anyone else, kiri and sero especially, tried to talk to him though, he’d shout louder and be a lot ruder to them

he’s just agitated

and he knew why he was that way

he’s just in denial about it

he’s also in denial about the reason why

why couldn’t he just accept his feelings and act on it already?

kirishima asked him that one day in the dorms

he saw bakugou staring very intensely straight at you without blinking for a full minute

“look man, don’t even try to tell me you don’t like y/n. it’s obvious and i’m not an idiot. you aren’t either.”

“i know shitty hair. it’s just… i’m me. and she’s y/n. nothing’s ever gonna happen.”

“you don’t know that”

“but i do. cmon, she’s just so fucking perfect even with all her flaws. and i’m just the loud guy with exploding hands and no emotions.”

kiri was surprised honestly

this wouldn’t be the first time bakugou was insecure around him but the way bakugou talked about you and how he implied he wasn’t worthy

damn that hit kirishima

“bakubro, i’m gonna help you”

STAGE IV ( intimacy ) ;

ever since he told kirishima abt what’s been bothering him about you and ever since kirishima declared he’d help, bakugou became more…

quiet

he was still loud, but he just became a soft kind of loud now(?)

it was like he got calmer and he was assured that things would be okay

of course things were not okay

why? because ever since bakugou fully accepted his feelings for you, he doesnt know how to act around you

the other day you asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner cause you were cooking tonight

his answer:

“you”

“umm..”

“-you can make anything you want. i’ll eat whatever.”

that and a lot of other little awkward incidents started occurring

also maybe it was just the weather but he always seemed red whenever you saw him

it wasn’t the weather though

it was him being shy and nervous and flustered

which made bakusquad extremely weirded out cause seeing him like that is like seeing aizawa cheerfully smiling and wearing bright color clothes

it was weird af and was just not right

anyway, mina’s advice to him was to try to get closer to you

“but we’re already close”

“no i mean closer on a personal level. ask her how her day was or ask her random stuff about her likes and dislikes or her hobbies or literally anything”

“oh… ok then”

and so he tried that

he tried getting closer to you by greeting you every morning and sometimes asking you if you slept well

you found it odd

it certainly was odd, but you didn’t mind

if you ask him why he asks about your sleep he just goes red and says he needs to make sure his opponent for his afternoon sparring session is well-rested and healthy

speaking of the sparring sessions…

he asks you to spar more often than usual and actually makes small talk during your breaks

he was also a lot nicer to you, offering to help carry stuff for you and assisting you in the little things

like getting a mug from the kitchen’s high shelves or picking up the pencil you accidentally dropped

what he did worked though and within a few weeks, the two of you got a lot closer

the next step, as mina put it, was “making sure she knew you weren’t interested in her as a friend”

now that was hard for bakugou to do

“it’s not that hard. you could just tell her.”

bakugou: ..??

“basically confess”

bakugou: wha- *shortcircuits*

CONFESSING

he never thought about that

he actually has

he knew in his mind he’d have to do it eventually if he wanted to have you

but he didn’t think it would be *this soon*

“dont think that much and just tell her you like her”

“you’re making it sound easy”

“because it is!”

he groaned internally

he’s faced tons of villains and been in quite the number of fearful situations but the fear he felt now was completely different

“look if you’re afraid of rejection just confess like this”

*sero clears throat*

“*y/n i like you and i would like to be something more than friends. i’m not going to pressure you into anything so if yoh don’t want to we can just pretend this never happened>:)”

“...”

bakugou ended up confessing the next day though

just not like that

it was a spur of a moment thing and he wasn’t really aware he said it until you responded

the two of you were sparring as usual and you had just gotten close enough to knock him down and pin him to the ground

in that moment you were just so beautiful and amazing and everything and he just couldn’t keep it in apparently

“i like you”

“w-what?”

“what?”

“did you just say you liked me?”

“like not liked dumbass”

“:o present tense o:”

well long story short, you like him too and you tell him that and you two just sit there grinning like idiots

from then on things didn’t change much

you and bakugou still talked, although maybe more than usual

and still sparred with each other, although maybe less seriously and more playfully

some were surprised when it became known you were together

some weren’t

whatever other people thought though, they couldn’t deny one thing:

bakugou looked at you as if you were the world

STAGE ∞︎ ( fallen ) .

note ; i started writing this soo long ago but then abandoned it cuz thats just me:”] bUT i decided that since its his birthday i might as well finish it up and finally post it u.u,,, also TYSM @animebsposts for helping me with this ily and ur amazing<3

taglist ; ( send ask to be added ! ) @lilikags

#happy birthday ya big cute bomb boy<3 #bakugou x reader #bnha #www.pink-ink.com/writing #/hcs

291 notes · View notes

thexanwillshine · 3 years

Text

a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily—as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

#levihan #levi x hange #levihanweek 2021 #LHW 2021 #LHWeek Day 2

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justaswampdemon · 2 years

Text

Hope For a Second Chance

Carlos gets support from a surprising source as the 126 waits for news about TK.

(This started as a random thought I told @marjansmarwani the other night and is dedicated to her and our mission to destroy each other's emotions.)

Someone sits next to him, the movement stalling the constant bouncing of his leg, but Carlos can’t bring himself to look over. His eyes stay glued to the hallway leading to TK’s ICU room. Technically he could go sit with him, they’d added each other as emergency contacts when TK had first moved in…back when they’d had a condo and a firehouse still standing, and a crazy family to go with it.

It doesn’t feel right though, when they’ve barely said more than a few words to each other since they split. There’s things Carlos wants to say that have been eating at his throat every time they’ve bumped into each other. After doing everything together, their schedules for errands and farmers markets and everything in between are still synced up, leading to more than one awkward encounter. If he steps into that hospital room, there’s no way he’d be able to keep it all inside, and saying them to an unconscious TK feels like giving up, like saying goodbye.

He finally drags his eyes away when a cup of water is placed in his hands. Captain Vega gives him an understanding half smile. “Try and stay hydrated,” she prompts, “I know it doesn’t seem like much but this is draining already. No need to make it any harder on yourself.”

“I-” The dryness in his throat chokes his words and he takes a few sips of water. They lapse into silence for a few minutes, until the need to admit his fears and Captain Vega’s steady presense breaks the hold on his words. “I want to tell him I love him…and I miss him…I want to ask him to come home. But I can’t say it knowing he can’t hear me.”

“He’s going to wake up. TK’s a fighter, and despite whatever happened between you two, I know he loves you. You’ll get a chance, I have faith in that.” Captain Vega sighs, and even though she’s hiding it well, Carlos can see the pain in her eyes. “There’s always going to be things we wished we said. Moments we wish we’d held on to and fights that seem so absolutely pointless now.”

Her eyes are shining and she drinks some of her water in an effort to head the tears off, it’s a trick Carlos knows well. What she’s been through is unimaginable, and Carlos hates that he’s just dredging it all back up for her. He hates that she’s comforting him when a chance is more than she got. “Captain Vega…I’m so sorry. This- I-” He’s fumbling for words again, everything in his brain too jumbled to sift through. Draining the last of his own cup, he takes a pause to try and put a sentence together. “I’m sorry…doesn’t seem fair to dump all this on you.”

“It’s not a competition Carlos…my pain doesn’t make yours acceptable to bear.” She smiles at him again, this time with a little more humor to it. “And I think outside of duty, just Tommy is fine. The 126 is still a family, and you’re still a part of it.”

“Might take a while for me to get the hang of…took forever for me to call Captain Strand ‘Owen’. It still feels weird.” Not that he’d talked to Owen recently, none of them had as far as he knows. Hell, even getting a hold of him to tell him about TK has proven difficult. Owen’s unreachable and Carlos is too wrapped in his own head to go sit with the man he loves. Instead TK lies in that room alone while Carlos feels glued to the chair. The fractured feeling that had been growing inside of him cracks even more and he slumps down, too many emotions are twisting inside of him and he would give almost anything to make them just stop.

Tommy puts her arm around him, the same comforting hold he’s seen at a dozen calls. Despite the hitch in her breath she feels solid next to him, and they sit in silence until Nancy returns with coffee. Setting the tray down, she sits on Carlos’ other side and takes his hand in both of hers. And together they wait.

#swamp demon writes #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #I'm still going feral over the promo #arent we all?

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

the threat is gone (spencer reid/reader)

Title: the threat is gone

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but I took it off her hands :) (Reader is being threatened by an unsub and is given safety instructions by reid that she disobeys out of boredom, so when the threat is over she tries to joke/lie/argue her way out of trouble but he’s in total dead serious fbi interrogation mode and calmly hauls her over his lap and doesnt stop til she’s crying hard and has told him everything and then he comforts her n from there whatever)

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: angst, slight smut (either way, minors dni)

Content Warning: swearing, dishonesty, being spanked (to the point of tears), aftercare, D/s dynamic, reader being a brat, usual criminal minds case stuff, post prison & post series!reid, implied age gap (10 years), use of a safeword

Word Count: 3,901

Summary: Spencer sends Reader to a safe house after she’s threatened by an unsub. Reader decides to take her fate in her own hands and leave the safety. When Spencer finds out what she did, there’s hell to pay

A/N: happy easter to those who celebrate! pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins )posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. also thank you to @newportonmymind for beta reading this for me!! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Anderson and a cop are going to take you to a safe house,” Spencer looked down at me. I shifted on my feet as I looked up at him. My heart was in my throat. I didn’t think this unsub was that bad.

“I’m not going to a safe house, Spencer. Being here is probably the safest place I could be. By your side… With the team,” I stepped up to him as I grabbed his hands. He looked down at me, a certain frustration in his eyes.

“His victims are too much like you. We’re not taking that chance, I’m not taking that chance. Do you understand?” Spencer’s voice was low as he spoke. I swallowed roughly as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I understand,” I scoffed and shrugged his hands off my body. Spencer looked at me, watching as I collected my belongings.

“Please, just trust me,” his voice was soft. I looked up at him, putting my bag across my body.

“Yeah, of course, Spence, I trust you, wholeheartedly,” I smiled at him. He didn’t believe me. Granted, I didn’t exactly believe myself either. Why would I? I’m being snappy and sarcastic, and dismissive to everything he said. “I’ll be safe. Anderson and a random cop will be with me. Do not worry,” I went up to him before pressing my lips to his.

“It won’t be for long. We’ll be back home before you even know it,” Spencer smiled, resting his hands on my hips before kissing me again. “You’ll listen to me and Anderson, understand,” he kept his tone soft and quiet, but still held authority.

“Yeah, yeah! My life is now in his hands. I wholeheartedly trust you and Anderson,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He looked down at me, his honey-like hazel eyes watching every detail on my face. Part of me wondered why he stared at me the way he did. Was he memorizing every little detail of my face, just in case something happened to me? Nothing will happen to me, that’s the whole reason why he’s having me go to a safe house with Anderson.

“I love you,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. It was clear he was trying to not let his emotions show, but was also obviously losing.

“I love you too,” I smiled before pressing his lips to mine for the briefest moment.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice came from the doorway, forcing Spencer and I to part. I swallowed roughly before turning to look at the door, seeing Anderson leaning against the doorframe. “But we’re ready to go,” he looked between Spencer and me.

“I’ll see you soon,” Spencer lifted his hand to my face, gently holding my cheek in his large palm. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “And don’t forget your promise. Follow your orders, and be a good girl,” he whispered the last part so only I would hear it.

“Ye-yeah, yeah… We’ll see you soon,” I repeated what he said before kissing him one last time. As much as I didn’t want to, I stepped away from Spencer’s body and followed closely behind Anderson. The cop that was behind us held a jacket over my body to hide my identity and keep me hidden from anyone unsub.

“We’re going to stop at your place before we go to the safehouse, so you can get some clothes, toiletries and other belongings,” Anderson looked over at me once we got settled in the car. I glanced over at him and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” I swallowed roughly and nodded, “Will we be able to stop at a store too?”

“Everything you should need, food and entertainment, should be at the safehouse when we arrive,” Anderson backhandedly answered my question. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at him.

The rest of the drive to the apartment was tense and silent. It was almost like we were in a library. Any sound or comment that was made, any breath that was breathed, felt wrong and I should be executed for it. But, that would kind of defeat the purpose of me going to this safehouse, right?

“Be quick, we only have a few minutes. We have to be on the road before dark,” Anderson looked at me as we both walked up the steps to the apartment complex. I glanced over at him and nodded lightly.

“Will do,” I nodded as I pulled out the keys and unlocked the building’s door. Anderson stayed standing outside the building, by the door, as I went inside.

The apartment that I shared with Spencer was a mess, but to be fair it was mostly Spencer’s mess. Books, papers and files scattered over any surface. And if there was an exposed surface, it was occupied by a coffee cup. At the office and on the road, Spencer is neat and organized, but at home, when his walls come down and once he’s in the zone, the organization goes out the window. Teaching tended to take a back seat; the papers that littered the room (and office and bedroom) consisted of papers he has/is supposed to grade.

I think the only organized room was our bedroom. Even though no one else ever entered that room, he always had it pristine. He knew where everything was, and if one thing was out of place or out of line, he’d know in an instant. We had come to a shared agreement that the bedroom was for bedroom activities only. If we could keep work stuff out of our room, we would. Our room was the only truly the only place we had control, hence the cleanliness and order of it.

I was quiet as I grabbed my backpack. Shoving my clothes into it, I muttered strings of profanities. Spending time in stupid safe house sounded like pure hell, absoulte boredom. Why would he think I would be okay at a safehouse? I could be useful at the office, and safer too. What’s safer than being with the team, not to mention with Spencer?

With a deep and resigned sigh, I threw the straps of my backpack over my shoulders. Anything to make Spencer happy, I suppose. I was a brat, but this didn’t seem like something to fight him on.

I quietly exited my home and went back outside, where Anderson was still waiting.

“Ready,” I looked over at him, feeling a fake smile grow across my lips. Anderson looked at me and nodded before taking the lead back to the cop car. I looked over at him and nodded as the car finally jerked forward and took off.

If I thought the drive to the apartment was bad… The drive to the safehouse was worse. If I had known it was going to be a 1 hour drive, I would have fought harder. This time around, I could sense that Anderson was trying to make some sort of an effort to make me feel better about this situation. But it was clear it was a fail of an attempt too. He kept talking about the things he enjoyed rather than common interest, or small talk. Yes, Spencer could do the same, but at least his factoids were adorable or at least relevant.

I almost felt bad, because I had honestly stopped listening to everything he said. I’m not sure when I stopped listening, sometime around the time he started talking about baseball. I take back what I said about Spencer, this was far worse. I swear, I actually liked listening to Spencer ramble on and on when he info dumps. But Anderson…

“Anderson,” I looked over at him, cutting him off as he spoke, “Please… For the love of God… I know you love baseball… But you have got to stop talking for five fucking minutes,” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He looked back at me before closing his mouth and nodding.

Thankfully, the rest of the drive was silent. I almost couldn’t believe how quiet it was. And, I almost couldn’t think of a time where it was silent for such a long period of time. I suppose in the moment I was thankful that things were turning out the way they were.

“Here’s your bedroom,” Anderson spoke cooly as we walked past a room. I looked over at him, feeling my exhaustion spread through my body. “Rest all you want. There’s some books that Spencer sent over that you could read. As well as movies you could watch,” he looked over at me. I looked back at him and nodded.

“I think I’ll do that… Everything that’s happened today… I’m exhausted,” I laughed nervously as I entered the room. Anderson looked at me and nodded, watching as I closed the door. I pressed my back to the door once it was shut, clicking it locked with a sigh.

My eyes scanned across the bland room. It consisted of a bed, a night stand, a lamp, and a window. Of course, all safe houses are basically empty homes. Fake houses that looked lived in, when in reality they were nothing.

But then I looked back at the window… We were only an hour away from the apartment… Surely I could...

“Like hell I’m going stay in this stupid safe-house with Anderson,” I scoffed before rushing over to the window. I threw it open so fast I was worried I’d broken it. I didn’t have every step of my escape planned out, but I knew I had to get out of here. I knew I could think on my feet, so the spontaneity didn’t faze me.

I had to be quick as I had to make sure that Anderson didn’t clue into what I was doing. Because the second he knew that I wasn’t in the the safe house anymore, was the second Spencer knew, and then I’d be in big trouble -- worse than if the unsub were to catch me.

“Okay, okay,” I whispered as I patted down my pockets, feeling for my phone and wallet, trusting that everything else that I needed would be in my bags. I’d be back by the end of this case. I wasn’t exactly running away, I was just getting away because this was stupid. The safest place I would have been in was with Spencer and the rest of the team. I knew that, and I knew Spencer just needed reminding that I was right.

‘I wasn’t running away,’ I thought to myself as I looked out the window. It wasn’t a far jump. 3 yards at least. I wouldn’t get hurt by that, should I?

I glanced over my shoulder, just making sure no one was watching me, before finally jumping out the window. I grunted when I landed on the ground. Then, I was off.

There was a coffee shop not far from the house. That was my destination. And then from there, I’d get an uber or taxi back home, or shopping, or someplace else. As long as I was away from danger, I was okay.

I could feel a certain anxiety grow up my throat the further I got from the safe house. It wasn’t because I was afraid that I was going to get hurt. It was because of Spencer. I just wasn’t sure how he’d take to that news -- but I could take an educated guess. It was honestly a matter of time before I go-

Spencer Calling…

I stared at the screen, looking at the picture of Spencer and I at one of Rossi’s fabulous parties. I swallowed back my fear and anxiety, and took a deep breath of courage before pressing answer.

“Hel-”

“Where the hell are you!?” Spencer growled as his voice came through the speaker. Fear… Fear grew in the pit of my stomach, and it was hard to breathe. “I swear to God,”

“I’m fine! I’m safe…” I returned as my steps slowed on the sidewalk. I didn’t totally answer his question. I didn’t really want to tell him I was at a coffee shop 5 minutes away from the safe house. Because then he’d have Anderson on my ass in a second.

“That doesn’t answer my question, and you know that,” Spencer snapped back. I froze in my tracks, my heart beating harder than I could control. “Where are you? Make me ask again and I won’t be nice,”

“Spencer,” I started, my voice low and shaky, “I can’t tell you,” I shook my head. I could hear the breath of air that Spencer let out, and it only scared me more.

“If you’re not back at that safe house in 20 minutes, you will have the biggest punishment. Do you understand, Princess?”

“I’ll be safe, Spencer,” I muttered. I stared at the ground for a long time as we both stayed silent. It was hard to say how long passed, but it was a while. “Bye Spencer,”

“If you hang up, I swear,” he started but I didn’t get to feel the end of it before I hung up. I swallowed roughly before continuing my trek towards the coffee shop as my phone buzzed continuously.

{***}{***}{***}

“Where were you again?” Spencer asked, just to ask. He didn’t forget. The man he is? He’d never forget. Especially something like this.

“Coffee shop and Library, I thought you would just have Garcia track me.” I mumbled as I waited for him to unlock the door. My stomach was slowly churning the longer he took to unlock the door. Although, I was okay with how slow he was. The slower he took, the longer I had before the punishment.

Spencer huffed out a breath of air and shook his head. I stared at him, watching as the door finally unlocked and was pushed open.

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?! How… How much danger you were in?!” Spencer shouted as we both entered the apartment. I glanced at him as I made my way to the couch.

"C'mon, I was probably safer at the library and coffee shop anyways! Bastard knew I’d go to a safe house and our apartment," I shrugged as I flopped onto the couch. Spencer looked down at me like he was the parent reprimanding their disobedient child. Granted, that’s kind of how our dynamic was when we weren’t at work or it was a normal day. I do have to admit though, I was wrong for not going where he wanted me to.

"You directly disobeyed me. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! How could you be so reckless!? You have no idea how scared I was when I heard you weren’t at the safe house,” he shouted, but as he got closer to the end of his sentence, his words got quieter and his voice cracked. I looked up at him, the feeling of guilt suddenly eating away in my stomach.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what else you want me to say or do, Spencer…” I muttered before shrugging. I glanced at him as he stood on the other side of the coffee table. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt, quietly muttering something as he went. “Spencer, look, I said I’m sorry… I’m home and I’m safe…” I watched him with anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

"You disobeyed me, put yourself in danger,," his voice was low as he stood up. I watched as he walked over. The hairs on the back of my neck were instantly standing, and I could feel goosebumps grow all over my arms. “Sorry just isn’t going to cut it,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him, and I knew exactly what he was about to do. So my next question was redundant.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I looked up at him. My heart was suddenly in my stomach as he lowered to my height. I tried to look anywhere but him, but that was hard when he placed his finger under my chin, coaxing me to look at him. I tried my hardest to not look up at him, but it was so hard to not look at him. He was right there and he was my favorite person to look at. But, to be fair, when he was mad it made me a little nervous.

"Well, you decided to go and break my instruction. And you know what happens to little girls who disobey their rules," he kept his voice low as he spoke. I dropped my gaze to my lap as he sat beside me. A shiver shot down my spine as I locked eyes with him… In that moment, I knew I was done for...

"Wait, Spencer," I exclaimed as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me so I was lying across his lap. I lifted my head and looked up at him with wide eyes “Spencer! Spencer! Wait! Please!” I struggled as I squirmed in his lap. I wanted so badly to just slide out of his arms, but the way he held me made it damn near impossible to slide away from him.

“I’ve asked for an explanation and you didn’t provide one,” he spoke cooly. He kept his hands on my back, and not going any lower than my hips. I took a moment, struggling to breathe as I thought of why I left the safe house and Anderson.

“I was just bored, okay? I was bored. And thought it was stupid that you had me leave the office and the team to go to a safe house,” I tried to wiggle from his grip again, but failed when his hold on me tightened. I swallowed roughly, hoping my truth telling would work, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t.

“Is this the truth?” Spencer asked, his tone somewhat overly nice. I bit my lips together and nodded lightly.

“It’s the truth, I swear, Spencer, it’s the truth,” I whispered. I knew telling the truth would lessen the harshness of his punishment. And, maybe it would. He does know when to be gentle.

“I’m happy you gave me the truth. But that still doesn’t mean it was okay to disobey me, you know that, don’t you Princess?” he whispered as he brushed down my hair. I let out a deep sigh before reluctantly nodding.

“I know,” It was inevitable at this point. I owned up to my mistake, and now I need to own up to the punishment. And I knew exactly what was going to happen.

“I’ll go easy on you, okay?” He kept his voice low. He knew if his voice was any louder, I’d instantly back away from all of this. “I think ten strikes is appropriate... Do you agree?”

I would rather have less, and Spencer knew that too. But if I argued he’d only add more. Which was worse than the ten he already offered. I knew that after he’d be okay and it’d be over with. Fuck, I already wanted it to be over.

“Yes, sir,” I sighed deeply. I lifted my hips enough for him to pull my pants down over my bottom. My chest tightened as I tried to take a deep, shaky breath as I anticipated the first strike.

My ears could just barely pick up the soft rush of air from Spencer’s hand before it landed hard against my bottom. I took a sharp breath of air and dropped my head down to the cushion.

“One…” I whispered as my hands gripped his pants tightly. I swallowed roughly as I tried to steady my breathing. Spencer gave me a moment to breathe before giving me two and three in a quick go. Four came after a brief moment. But then… Five was when it started getting shaky for me. Tears had started rolling on my face between three and four, but it didn’t start becoming trouble till five.

“Five! I understand! I swear! I’m sorry!” I cried out once his hand connected hard with my ass for the 5th time. And, okay, that one hurt, like a lot. I couldn’t tell if it was the sting that hurt, or the repeated assault on the sore spot… But I knew it hurt. With each strike, I could almost feel Spencer’s anger and anxiety. I definitely felt bad about doing what I did.

I don’t know if I’ll make it to ten...

“Just five more,” Spencer spoke softly as his hand carefully massaged my butt-cheek. I could tell he started feeling bad. But, we both knew he had to follow through with it.

His hand whizzed through the air and smacked against my ass. A loud crack came through the air, and a sharp gasp fell from my lips. And, that was it. I definitely don’t think I’ll make it to ten. This was it.

“Buttercup!” I shouted as my eyes snapped open. I could still feel the tears burning down my cheeks. Before Spencer could make contact for the 7th time, he stopped. He kept both his hands away from my body as I moved away from him. With that, we were both silent for a minute, as I tried to recalibrate my breathing.

Spencer looked over at me, sensing his sudden change in demeanor. His anger and anxiety was gone and replaced with a guilty panic. The atmosphere changed.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked after a minute had passed. I was, painfully, sitting on the next cushion away from him. I needed my space. I bit my lips and nodded as I roughly wiped my cheeks.

“I’m okay,” I whispered looking back at him. I watched as he slowly lifted his hands, offering both of them for me to hold. I stared at them for a while before just falling into his sigh, a shaky breath, almost a sob, going through my body.

“I got you; you’re ok, you’re safe. I was so worried. You have to understand how dangerous it was for you to just leave like that. I thought I was never going to see you again,” Spencer whispered, bringing a hand to run over my hair. I bit my lips and nodded.

“No, I know… I’m sorry for… I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I don’t even know… I should have just stayed at the safe house,” I whispered as I pressed my face into his shoulder. I felt as he let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around me, resting and hand on my lower back.

I was happy he didn’t mention how I told him the truth a little bit ago. My body could feel the exhaustion from the whole day. It wasn’t just the punishment, or the little bit of arguing, or even the running away. It was everything combined. I needed sleep soon. Spencer knew that too.

“Why don’t we go into our room and cuddle,” he whispered as he continued stroking my hair. I sniffled lightly before laughing. Just like he was reading my mind. He knows me better than anyone. “I just want you safe in my arms.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’d like that a lot, actually,” I looked up at him. Spencer smiled at me before lightly pressing his lips to mine.

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @thebluetint

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Libel

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Scott, John

Words are powerful weapons. It doesn’t matter how popular you are when the rumour mill turns against you.

Day three “Sticks and stones may break my bones but...” of @whumptober-archive and we’re using the prompts insults and “Who did this to you?” today. Romantic trouble ahead, with cheating and nasty false accusations.

Scott slouched against the wall, feeling the cool but rough texture of the bricks pressing against the bare skin of his arms. The day had been hell from beginning to end, and now he just wanted to go home, but it was a Tuesday and Tuesdays were special.

On a Wednesday and Thursday, he had to leave school the moment class let out to pick up Alan from daycare, because Grandma had her own commitments that she couldn’t reschedule and Dad was always too busy with work. On Mondays and Fridays, John stayed behind for extra classes, so Scott would go home alone – or hang out with friends, or-

Well.

On Tuesdays, John had no extra classes, Grandma was free to pick up Alan, and Scott’s schedule was clear, so they made a point of going home together. It was a routine they’d settled into almost immediately, and Scott enjoyed the quiet time with just his immediate brother before they returned to the chaos that was the rest of their family.

John’s last class was the far end of the campus from the gates, so Scott always made it to the meeting point first by a few minutes. Sometimes several, if the quiet ginger got caught up talking to a teacher about an assignment, which happened more often than not. Today, he’d been waiting for five, and there was yet to be a sign of him.

Today had been rotten. Scott didn’t want to still be on campus, conscious of all the eyes boring into him as his year mates moved past in packs. None of their gazes were friendly; several were outright hostile, and he pressed back a little further into the wall of the math block in a vain attempt to escape.

His phone was in his hand, a message typed out by trembling fingers and waiting to be sent.

Sorry, something came up. I’ll see you at home.

A thumb hovered over the send key. All it had to do was descend and then he could slip away from the hoards and their accusing eyes. Escape from school and hide out in the woods for a while to try and come to terms with exactly what had happened before slinking home in time for dinner.

It would spare him John’s reaction for a little while longer, too.

But while John never said it in so many words, Scott knew that he looked forwards to their once-a-week walk home, too. He’d be disappointed if Scott bailed on him – and confused, because Scott hadn’t bailed on him once all year, despite occasional social invites. With four brothers, one-on-one time with any of them was precious, and Scott was always at loath to give it up.

“Sorry I’m late.” John was talking even before he rounded the corner to their meeting place, and Scott dropped the phone back into his pocket, unsent message still taking up the screen. He hadn’t decided in time, or maybe he subconsciously just wanted to get the judgement over with. “Mr Kemp-”

Scott looked up as his brother’s voice cut off, unable to muster even a faint grin at the sight of him. Turquoise eyes were wide with horror as John stared, whatever Mr Kemp had said or done immediately forgotten.

“Hey, John,” he greeted. His voice fell flat even to his own ears, and he watched as John stashed the tablet perpetually in his hand into his messenger bag before he hurried the last few paces towards him.

A pale hand rose up and lingered in front of his face, not quite touching as it traced something on his skin. The black eye that had swollen his left eye almost shut, probably.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was glacier cold, and barely above a whisper. It was less a question and more a demand – a copy of Scott’s own attitude whenever he found out someone was hurting his brothers.

John always was observant.

“It doesn’t matter.” It wasn’t a story Scott wanted to tell to anyone, and if it hadn’t spread far enough through the school to reach John’s ears during the day, then he wasn’t about to provide a second wind. “Let’s get out of here.” He pushed off from the brick wall, gallantly ignoring the screaming protests of his battered body at the idea of moving.

Scott was pretty sure there was nothing serious, it just hurt and no doubt his skin was varying shades of bruised.

“Scott,” John warned, but he didn’t try to stop him. Maybe he knew that Scott needed to get out – then again, Scott suspected that he was broadcasting that painfully loudly to his brother.

They left the safety of their meeting point and joined the throng headed for the gate.

“Bastard.” It wasn’t clear where the word came from, but it was from somewhere in the masses of teenagers they were forging through.

“Creep.”

“Sick.”

“Filthy.”

“Slut.”

Each word, each insult, crashed into him and suffocated him a little more. It hurt, pain adding onto the pain that had started it all in the first place – hurt more than his physical wounds, an almost-negligible throbbing that would probably make its presence known sharply once the haze of disbelief and emotional impact faded.

Beside him, John seemed to stand a little straighter, a little taller in a reversal of their usual stances, where the ginger was the one that tended to aim for invisibility and Scott was the one that strode ahead purposefully. He cut a swathe through the milling, jeering crowds, forcing a path to open up for them. If Scott could look anywhere other than the stained, chewing-gum riddled tarmac, he suspected he might find that John’s face was thunderous enough to cut through even the upperclassmen he usually ignored.

He was jostled suddenly, someone crashing into his shoulder hard enough to drive him staggering into John, and the cacophony of noise continued as he stumbled back upright with his brother’s hand now lightly holding his arm. In his periphery, he saw John pluck his own phone out of his bag. For a moment his brother did nothing about whatever was on the screen, but then he was tapping out a message Scott couldn’t read before sliding his phone away again.

His other hand didn’t leave Scott’s arm. Not when they reached the gate, and Scott stumbled over a stray ankle suddenly in his path, or when they passed it and a moped sped past close enough that he could hear the rider’s snarled insults over the roaring engine.

Not even when he diverted from their route home all of a sudden, nudging Scott down a narrow alley that led towards the woods, losing the crowds and replacing them with large, old trees packed closely enough together that the casual observer couldn’t see between them.

It was Scott’s favourite place to retreat when he needed his own space, and John – unsurprisingly – knew that.

“Scott, what happened?” John drew them to a halt under the reaching arms of a particularly large tree, branches thick and low and almost forming a cavern of brown and green.

He shook his head, not sure he could trust his voice not to betray him. The soft fingers left his arm, and John moved to stand directly in front of him. Scott looked at the ground, littered with broken twigs and the occasional fallen leaf, rather than meet his eyes.

He should’ve known better than to hope John would leave it alone.

“Something happened with Christie.”

It was too confident to be a guess, but that was John all over, putting the facts together and reaching the logical conclusions.

Scott sank down to the ground, his bag landing heavily beside him. John followed more gracefully, crouching in front of him.

“Did she dump you?”

The noise that forced its way out of Scott’s throat was best described as strangled laughter, driven by despair rather than humour. “No.” The word cracked in half.

Morning recess, leaving the cafeteria with her favourite chocolate in hand as a surprise. Rounding a corner into the locker corridor. Christie with her tongue down another boy’s throat, top riding up indecently high with the guy’s hand clearly snaking inside her bra.

Heartbreak.

“I ended it.”

His brother inhaled sharply. “What did she do?”

What didn’t she do? Breaking his heart was just the start; he was popular, but so was she, and the person who cried out that they were a victim first was almost always the one believed.

Popularity meant nothing against the rumour mill, and something Scott had never realised was how good an actress Christie was. While he’d spent the rest of recess hidden away, choking out tears of betrayal and shock, she’d-

He didn’t even know why she’d done it. It felt like a revenge tactic, but Scott had no idea what she was avenging, why she was suddenly so determined to ruin him.

Coming back to class, eyes still stinging, to find metaphorical daggers pressed to his throat by every student in the room, had been a shock. Christie had been sobbing into the chest of Peter, a boy Scott normally got on with fine but suddenly looked like he wanted nothing better than to murder him where he stood.

It wasn’t until lunch time that he found out what she’d told everyone, letting the story spread like wildfire across their year group until Scott was the scum of the earth in the eyes of everyone.

She’d dumped him, the rumour mill said even though Scott knew for certain that he’d been the one to tell her we’re over while fighting back tears. The chocolates had fallen to the floor and he had the stain on one sneaker to prove he’d accidentally stepped on them, too. She’d dumped him, she’d claimed amongst floods of tears and ruined makeup, for pushing too far, for ignoring her boundaries, for taking more than she was willing to give.

They’d never even got as far as she had with the random guy he didn’t know in the corridor.

“I- I can’t,” he choked out, tears spilling out and stinging his cheeks as they slid down. He swiped at them, trying in vain to hide them from the little brother regarding him with an ever-growing fury he knew wasn’t aimed at him.

“Tell me who beat you,” John insisted, thankfully changing tack although Scott knew the topic of Christie was only temporarily shelved. “Did you see the nurse?”

Christie had two brothers, twins in their final year and both demons on the football pitch. They’d always been reasonably chill towards Scott, at least much as older brothers would be, but just like any decent big brothers, took the distress of younger siblings very seriously.

They also had several friends who likewise adored sweet, charming Christie.

Even if he wasn’t still reeling from finding his now-ex girlfriend shacking up with another guy, Scott would never have stood a chance against the pack of upperclassmen. Stunned by the accusations hurtled his way, he’d been easy pickings.

He shook his head.

“Scott…” John swallowed and slender fingers brushed against the side of his face, where he was no doubt a deep purple from the fist that had crashed into it. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but if that crowd at the gate were anything to go buy, it’s only a matter of time before the whole school hears something. I can’t help if I don’t know what we’re up against.”

“We?” The word slipped out without permission, a startle against his brother’s proclamation. “No- John- This-”

“They hurt you.” John’s voice was laced with stubborn steel. “I doubt Grandma’s going to let you out of her sight for the rest of the week at least. Talk to me, Scott.”

He shook his head. The tears kept flowing, periodically yanking sobs from his throat; each one had him hunching over further, coiled across his tender abdomen as he continued wiping away the salty liquid to no avail.

John edged closer, slender hands gripping his shoulders lightly. “I’m here,” he promised. “I’m here, and I’m not letting them hurt you again.”

It shouldn’t be a younger brother reassuring an elder – that went against the rules engrained deep within him – but John was exuding confidence and protectiveness in a way that was reassuring. After a day of being destroyed both emotionally and literally, the tattered remains of Scott’s psyche found themselves clinging to every word and gesture.

It was enough to, haltingly, summarise the story. No details, no explanations, just a shaking recounting of how she’d cheated on him, how she’d fuelled the rumour mill, how her brothers had reacted.

The hug his brother pulled him into, gentle and warm but firm and protective, promised safety and love. Promised that John believed him, a fear he hadn’t even realised was lurking until it was dismissed.

"You’re not going in tomorrow,” John told him. “Not with these injuries, and not with that mob. Grandma will back me up on that.”

Scott wanted to protest, but even the thought of walking back into school again, with the hissed words following him and aura of menace honing in on him, was enough to have his heartrate picking up like a rabbit’s. He said nothing.

John didn’t need him to, and the two of them sat in near-silence, wind rustling the leaves and tears dripping from his eyes onto his brother’s shoulder.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that as his tear ducts ran dry and eyes transformed into crusty, stinging messes. Eventually, John pulled back slightly.

“Ready to go home?” his brother asked.

No. No, Scott was not ready to go home and face his family looking like this, but he didn’t have a choice. They’d find out sooner rather than later, and the longer he and John took to get back, the more Grandma would worry.

She was probably already frantic, he realised as his vision focused enough to register that dusk was hitting. They must have missed dinner.

“Don’t worry.” John pulled out his phone. “I told Grandma we’d be back late.” Scott caught a glimpse of Scott’s upset, we’ll be back late, and an answering I’ll save you some dinner, don’t stay out too long, amongst several messages of concern from her in the interim. The timestamps were from just after he’d met up with John after school – long before he’d started talking to his brother.

He blinked. That didn’t make sense. How did John know? Actually, how had John known that he needed to come here, and not home?

The phone disappeared back into John’s bag, but not before Scott spotted his name high up in the message list. Too high, considering he hadn’t sent him a message in days.

He fished his own phone out of his pocket and glanced down at it. Notifications of messages from half his classmates sprung up everywhere, the message previews full of nothing nice, but that wasn’t what caught his attention.

Sorry, something came up. I’ll see you at home, the screen said, the same text he’d composed while considering ditching John and running. The same text he knew he’d never actually sent.

It was on read.

A split-second memory of being jostled while passing through the gate flashed through his mind.

“Thanks for deciding to wait for me after all.” John plucked the device from his fingers, and scowled down at the screen. “I’m holding onto this for a while.”

Scott didn’t bother arguing, even though he knew full well that John would be collecting as much data as he possibly could from every single threatening message and probably had less than friendly intentions for doing so. He was just too drained to do anything about it, and now that he’d exposed the situation onto his brother, it almost felt like a relief to let someone else handle things for a while.

“Ready to go home?” John asked him again.

Home meant worried family and an inordinate amount of fussing over the injuries he had. Home meant burnt dinner leftovers because it had been his turn to cook. Home meant more questions to field when he just wanted to bury his head in his pillow and pretend the day hadn’t happened.

Home meant a family who would believe his side of the story. Home meant unconditional love and support.

Home meant safety.

He nodded and let John guide him back to his feet, his brother keeping a supporting arm around him even once he was vertical.

Home sounded like the best place to be.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #insults #who did this to you?#thunderbirds are go #fic #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #thunderwhump #thunderangst

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riofann · 3 years

Text

Rio Random 4

Things got a lot better after that, to your surprise. But you had both decided that you were basically going to do a redo and actively work on your relationship. It was a bit difficult at first. But you felt better when you saw Mick removing drugs from your house. He also got you a security system that you could look at from your phone to see who has been in and around the house. You didn’t smell Beth around your house as often either. You actually didn't hear much about Beth, as far as you were concerned things were being dealt with.

Rio would stop by two times a week at least on top of dates breakfast, lunch, brunch, dinner, or dessert. He was a romantic at heart actually, you would find flowers at home or at work sitting on your desk. He often used to look at you and smile which made you blush. You also met Marcus and Rhea one night at a state fair. Rhea was like Rio, hard to read you could see why the two ended up together. All together your relationship was far from perfect but you could honestly say you were happy.

One late afternoon you rushed home from work. Rio had sent you a text saying he had left a present for you. He often did this when he found lingerie that he liked and wanted you to wear it. Some dates he had dressed you from head to toe, others he provided the undergarments. Not that your taste was bad but he enjoyed doing this.

When you open the door to your home you hear voices coming from the bottom of your house before you could turn around and walk away you come face to face with a strange woman.

“Uh hi” Ruby greets uneasily

“Who are you?” You ask

“Uh Krystal”

Quickly Beth comes around the corner “Oh Y/N I was just ummm....”

You close your door now pissed, what are you doing in my house. Mick had moved all the drugs from your home, Rio had promised you nothing was left in your house. You looked around to see your house in disarray before turning your attention back to Beth and these other women.

“Oh well Rio wanted me to drop off something”

“Did he? Inside my house? He doesn’t even have a key, so how’d you get in?”

“Well Mick helped with that” “Okay what are you dropping off”

“Uh,” “Right let me just give him a call I’m sure he would love to hear about this”

“NO! Let's not bother him you know he is busy right Be... be be because he wouldn't like that right Krys?” Annie interjects

“Or should I call the police?”

Without warning Beth pulled out her gun and pointed it at you

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked in horror

“Alright Sit” she says motioning with the gun

“Are you gonna tell me what you're doing here in my house Elizabeth?”

Instinctively the two women looked at her as she looked shocked as well “How did you?”

“Elizabeth Boland, you have 5 children with your ex husband Dean right? Used to be a stay at home wife? Did I get that right?”

“SIT!” she demands “No, what are you gonna do? shoot me?”

“SIT!” she turns to look at Annie and Ruby before turning her attention back to you “Who told you?”

“Oh uh Mrs. Doubtfire... Yea i was stopping by to give you that book i borrowed and she said there was no such thing as Krystal had no idea what i was talking about then she told me everything”

“That damn woman”

“SIT!”

“NO! If you're gonna point a gun at me then I expect you to shoot.”

Ruby tugs at her arm “Beth lets just go” “NO ITS HERE” she yells while yanking her arm back “you think you are so special, that's what he does you know. Make you feel special then he just dumps you like you're nothing!”

“But I’m not you Beth, and i'm not Rio, so whatever you're looking for its not here and whatever beef you have take it up with him”

“I SAID SIT!”

“I'm not deaf i don't know why you're yelling”

“Beth” Annie tries to calm the situation Beth with a bewildered look turns to look at Annie “NO!”

“This is bad” Ruby comments

“You can't just threaten her life because of some guy....Beth” Annie states

“I am not all I need her to do is sit Annie!....I know that it’s here it just has to be...”

As they argued within themselves you felt like it was the perfect opportunity to sneak away as you got close to the door. You turned abruptly to open it when you heard commotion followed by sharp pain on your side, you looked down to see blood seeping through your clothes. You slowly fall to the floor back resting against the wall.

“OH MY GOD BETH!” “SHE WAS GETTING AWAY” she defends “HE IS GOING TO KILL US” Annie states looking at her sister like she had 5 heads “I’M SO SORRY Y/N” she says rushing towards you

“YOU BITCH” You kick her in the chest causing her to fall back, you groan and hold onto your side

“This isn't good please don't kick me none of this was supposed to happen” Ruby says slowly crouching down next to you

“Put pressure on it” Annie instructs

“I need towels!”

“It's gonna be okay” Ruby tries her best to sooth you “I can't believe you”

“I didn't” Beth says while holding onto your wound

Annie rushed back with towels in hand

“Uh guys we have to take her to the hospital” You don’t know when it happens but you start to fade away “Y/N! Can you stand?” “Y/N!” Annie calls your name “she's not... Y/N stay awake

“What's wrong with you?” Ruby scolds

“What? Ruby..”

“Why are you trigger happy”

“It was an accident, help me get her in the car!”

“Well we can't go out the front door”

“Then help me get her through the fucking back door Annie”

“Oh my god” Annie says throwing her hands up

When 30 minutes pass Rio is beyond infuriated with you. You were not picking up his calls or answering his texts and from what he knew you were at home.He doesn’t know why you flaked on him, he thinks you were in a drunken slumber wondering how you got back into it, you had shown signs of improvement.

When he gets to your house however he opens the door, he hears Coconut’s barking and he immediately spots the pool of blood by the door

“Go find her is all he needs to say to Mick”

He walks through your home, there were multiple holes cut in your walls, holes in the cushion seat on the couch, furniture overturned. When he walks into the bedroom everything is in disarray just like the living area. Carefully he walks down the steps and spots your bag. He thinks you were ambushed. His mind goes into overdrive and is thinking of who would have the gull to do such a thing as far as he was concerned everyone knew enemy wise especially in this line of business that children and wives/girlfriends were out of the question. So whoever had the gull to do such a thing was bold and he’s wondering who it could be. He makes a few calls before he’s sitting in front of your laptop trying to log in. another phone call and he’s given the password. When he looks through the security footage nothing but rage takes over.

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

After pacing the floor in silence Ruby explodes with emotion “He is going to kill us!”

“He doesn't know where we are” Beth counters

“I have a child Beth and I need to call Stan and let him know what’s going on!”

“So do I Ruby, I have 5 to be exact, he wont do anything she's just a placeholder anyway”

Ruby looks at her in disbelief “Are you kidding me he broke up with YOU to be with HER she is no placeholder”

“She's not special he can find another woman like her anytime soon” Beth states dismissively

“Beth i don't like this you need to call him and tell him it was a mistake” Annie jumps into the conversation

“Relax he doesn't know where we are he’s not stupid plus Dean will throw his ass in jail”

Putting her hands up Ruby states “I can’t believe you” before she walks away A brief moment of silence before Beth’s phone starts ringing

When they all look at the phone only unknown flashes through the screen after the 5th time the screen is black for good

“Elizabeth please for our sake just tell him” Ruby pleads “we can’t be hidden forever”

“NO! Now shut up and let me think!”

“Or what you're gonna shoot me” Ruby expresses frustrated

“It was an accident!”

Ruby scoffs, “Like shooting him too? I'm starting to think you’re trigger happy”

“Don't start accusing me you shot someone in the foot!”

“That was an accident! We all know it was, but you just can't let this life go huh. You can't let this power go so whoever stands in your way you're gonna get rid of them”

Beth walked up to Ruby looking at her right in the eye “You're right so move out of my way” she didn't have time to be arguing with her so if that meant intimidating her she would.

Annie quickly got between the two and separated them. “Guys i cant right now please not now, i can't deal with this, we just need to stick together”

Beth was right Rio couldn't locate them at first but he had found you. You were in the surgical icu stabilizing after your surgery. Because you were considered a Jane Doe no one was really allowed to see you, but Rio had his connections and he walked in to see you fast asleep before walking out. He says nothing as Mick drives him over to Beth’s house. Nothing was out of the ordinary except Beth was missing. He also had other cars posted outside of Ruby’s house and Annie's.

“Aii bet” he hangs up the phone irritated that no one could locate Beth, she had become a protégé, so good at hiding things from him now.

"You gon’ have to get rid of her” Mick states before looking at Rio, “She shot you, planned your assassination," he scoffs "stolen, sabotaged, lied, how much more you gon let her get away with"

“I cant get rid of her, if i do i gotta deal with the other 2, not to mention the stupid ass husbands that's almost 10 kids in foster care, too much heat its bad for business now anyway, plus I'm still under the microscope cuz of Turner”

“Both can’t co exist though, so you either with Beth or you with Y/N.”

“Fuck me”

“Gotta make a move boss”

“Ima figure something out”

It takes 2 days but he finally locates them. Abruptly woken from their sleep and thrown in a van they find themselves in an unknown place, kneeling in front of him, with plastic bags underneath them.

“Please i have children” Beth tries to plead her case

Rio’s shoulders roll back before he speaks “Nah see you can’t keep doing that mama, you can't keep provoking me and asking for mercy cuz you got kids.”

“I'm a mother, they need their mother!”

“Please Rio” Ruby interjects

“See that's the problem, I hoped you being a mother, you would actually be more careful but I get it now. You just wanna be reckless and use me as your cover. Shoot me 3 times it's my fault. Steal my fault, lie my fault, plot to kill me my fault" his shoulders roll "what was Y/N’s fault why you shoot her?" Already knowing the answer he wanted to see what she would say

"She knows my name I know you told her"

"She's my girl"

"Right just like I was but unlike her you can't replace me you need me!”

"Humor me Beth, are you jealous?"

Beth scoffs “of what?"

"Y/N"

She scoffs again "you wish! You probably get off knowing 2 women want you"

He licks his bottom lip and smiles. It takes a minute before he speaks “So what should i do with you, all of you? I know I’m tired of this game, we’ve been playing it for too long. Aint y’all tired of wondering if im gon kill you?” He asks addressing Annie and Ruby

“Please I promise to walk away” Annie offers

“Annie shut up!” Beth scolds

“NO! YOU SHUT UP BETH GOD YOU ARE SELFISH! ALWAYS HAVE BEEN!”

“Annie I’m trying to....” Before she can finish she stops after she hears her phone ringing

Rio looks down at the phone “Talk it out I gotta take this call” he says before walking away

The girls don’t say anything but look at each other. When they see him return Beth comments “I got this let me speak.” waiting for him to sit down before she begins “You can’t kill us and you know it. So you can run back to your little girlfriend and kiss her wound and tell her she's special and I'll go back to doing my thing” she says snidely Both Annie and Ruby looked at her shocked.

“She is, it could have been you but the 3 bullets kinda changed my mind”

“OH MY GOD! Can you let that go!”

“I did then I found out you hired a hitman and some kid to shoot me. Things change all the time between us, you know this”

“So what are you gonna do? Because we have work to do”

“I know.” He nods at the men behind them. The zip ties are cut before he walks away “I’ll see you around yea?”

When he leaves they all look at each other shocked that he even let them walk away. They remain in that position until all the men leave.

“See I told you!”

“I can’t do this Beth you need some serious help and I’m not willing to wager my family as collateral for it” Ruby states “It worked” “For you! Not for us, you think it's just a one woman show where you do everything? Like your actions don’t have any effect on our lives'' “Ruby it worked I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it” “Yea well better that than you”

Annie interjects once again before things get heated “Guys can we just figure out how to get home”

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

“So what now?” Mick asks frustrated with the whole thing. “She still working for you?” he knew the pattern all too well Beth would do something to get back at Rio

“Nah we moving, leaving Michigan, getting new headquarters. She wanna run the business? Cool, but no protection, no muscle, no supply of weapons, no connections, yea she can print money but she can’t operate or deal, not without me. Make sure everyone knows if they entertain her they are dead. I don’t care what it is if I find out I’m putting a bounty on your head. She right though I can’t kill her but i can kill her business”

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

It took a few days but when you regain consciousness in the hospital you see one of Rio’s men at least you’re assuming he is sitting by you. You two don’t speak and you go back to sleep. The next day police stop by to question you about your shooting, you tell them the story Rio’s guy told you, a home invasion gone wrong. They leave satisfied with the explanation. Rio comes to visit a few days after you have been moved to a step down unit that was more private.

The door opens and you watch as he walks in “Rio”

Hey mama he approaches you with hands behind his back and as he gets closer a cute teddy bear that has ‘get well soon on it’

“How you feeling?” he asks taking a seat next to you on the bed

“I got shot” you state factually

“You got shot” he says moving the hair from your face

“Where have you been? The cops came to see me”

“I know they stopped by, I was handling something. Did you tell them what Honcho told you to say?”

“Yes”

He smiles and looks at you with a face you can’t quite read

“So where is she?”

You were hoping he would say dead in a ditch somewhere or something along the lines of ‘you never have to worry about her’ but what he said made you more angry

“At home”

“She's alive?”

“Yea”

You roll your eyes, was she gonna be thorn on your side for the rest of your life with Rio? “But she won’t bother you” “Yea said that last time and now i have a bullet hole on my side that says otherwise” “Nah she won’t be able to reach you this time cuz we leaving, after you get discharged”

“What? You want me to move?”

“Yea,we can...” You interrupt "There's no we anymore, you're like a bad omen. In less than a year since i met you I get shot and now i have a bullet wound because of your unhinged ex that you couldn't keep in check and you still think there's a 'we' "

“I told you,” he runs his hand down his chin “i asked you to be patient” he speaks softly

“Be patient, meant with you! So you could change not ‘be patient, my crazy ex who i can't control will shoot you months from now but i still need you to understand” you say sarcasm laced in your tone

“Y/N” “You told me to treat you like any other guy on the street, so I am. We are done!”

“You can't stay here” he stresses “Why not?” “Beth isn’t my only enemy, and once she finds out my plans she will go to them for revenge”

“So where are we going? I have a career here! Aunt Brenda and Mia, my parents, I visit their graves often”

“They can come visit you, You can always get another job, it’s not safe for you here Y/N”

“Was it ever safe? Didn’t you have enemies before? Was I not in danger then”

“This is different, Beth is vengeful I can’t risk it”

“Where are we going?”

“I can't tell you, not now I’m still figuring that out”

“Typical” “Listen i'm packing up your house I’m gonna get you a new place in a new city you'll get a job”

“Rio are you kidding me you want me to just up and leave?” “Yea,” he stands up and looks down at you “it’s non negotiable, i gotta protect you, after you get discharged we leaving”

“Protect me? From who? The only person I need protection from is you. Rein que le diable (nothing but the devil)”

He stares at you for a moment “get some rest” he says before kissing your forehead. He didn’t care about how you felt in the moment protecting you, Marcus, and Rhea were his top priority and he knew that always came with push back no matter who he was talking to.

A/N: as always tell me what you think. Not really a fan of this chapter didn’t know how to go around it.

#Manny Montana #rio x you #Brio #rio x reader #good girls nbc #nbc rio good girls #nbc good girls fic #nbc good girls #rio good girls #rio x beth #beth boland

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sehoenghwa · 3 years

Text

cake [c.s] [final part]

concept: Choi San x gender neutral reader (ft. Park Seonghwa) warnings ⚠: smut, angst, choking, shitty behaviour

[Part 1]

A/N: aaaa it’s finally done!! I really like the endinggg I hope you enjoy part 2!! I’m sorry if I ever mention a gender on the reader, sometimes I get distracted but please let me know!! All criticism is appreciated :D

You thanked all of the gods in existance for the fact that the academic year would be over in a couple of days. You decided that missing them wouldn't be of much importance, since you couldn't bear the embsfassment. You didn't want to face San, and you weren't sure you could face anyone at all. You felt like everyone knew about what had happened, and like everyone was silently judging you for falling right onto his trap. You needed time away from everyone in that place, as everyone reminded you of him.

You spent days crying onto your pillow, because the unbearable heartbreak and weird sense of betrayal you couldn't help but to feel.

It had been about two weeks into summer vacation when you decided to pick yourself up from bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror: bloated face, massive eye bags, hair severely overgrown and your body looked unhealthy. Your heart broke at the sight, and you cursed yourself for getting to this point because of a man.

You decided that, from that point on, you'd get better. You'd treat yourself, and become someone new. But it's easier said than done of course... You sort of did that. At least you were happier...

When you finally emerged from the comfort of your bed you fixed yourself the best you could and made way towards the nearest non-suspicious looking bar. It was a nice medium-sized bar, that looked like it was straight from a gossip girl set. It was only 5pm, but as soon as you closed the door behind you, it felt like it was 1am. The music wasn't loud nor quiet, the decoration wasn't exaggerated, and the purple and pink neon lights lit up the bar nicely.

Despite not having any windows, the smell of smoke wasn't unbearable like most bars, it was almost as if it was just setting the ambient.

You sat at the bar and order a 'whatever you recommend here'. You actually had about 4 of those. You felt surprisingly well, that is, until you stood up to go to the bathroom. Your legs were wobbly and suddenly the room was spinning. Somehow you made it to the bathroom and came back, to find that your seat was taken. Yes, there were about 5 other seats, but slightly drunk you had decided that that was your seat. How dare guy-who-looked-handsome-from-the-back tke it from you?

You tapped his shoulder, a little too harshly but you couldn't control it really. The male turned around and you gasped loudly. He raised an eyebrow at your extreme reaction, but again, your emotions, actions and reactions were highly enhanced with the help of alcohol.

You recognized those deep dark eyes and eye-catching lips anywhere.

Seonghwa. He was one of San's 'og' friends. You saw him in San's ig pictures from years ago, and you'd never seen one without the other walking around the halls.

'Y/N?'

You could feel your face get hotter, out of anger. You turned around and wobbled towards the door, but Seonghwa was faster. He grabbed your wrist.

'Y/N, are you drunk? It's 7pm what are you doing here?'

You turned to face him and placed your index finger on his chest, pushing him back.

'None of your business. Don't talk to me.'

Seonghwa was smart, it didn't take him long to understand your behaviour. His grip on your wrist was steady and he didn't let you go.

'You know I'm not him, right? I didn't do it, and I would never do something like that.' He told you.

Tears immediately brimmed in your eyes and your furrowed your eyebrows angrily.

'So you know about it.'

Seonghwa sighed and nodded.

'He tells me about every single one...'

You fought his grip and ran outside, the best you could. Seonghwa followed you, not wanting to leave you alone, drunk and wobbling in the streets that had already gotten dark.

'Y/N please, I'm sorry he did that to you. I had no idea.' He tried to excuse himself.

'But you're still friends with him!' You yelled, earning a couple of looks from people passing by.

'I can't just drop him Y/N! I've been his friend since we were kids. I hate that he does this, and I hate that I'm associated with it even more. You don't see it, but I see the dirty looks I get from every girl he fucked and trashed away because they think I'm just like him.'

'Oh boo hoo poor you!' You mocked.

He placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

'Do you live nearby?' He asked.

'Why? So you can fuck me and dump me too?' You mocked.

'Because I'm driving you home before some idiot on the street picks you up and convinces you to fuck him.'

You felt a little shy for assuming anything about him when he meant to do something good. You just nodded and told him your address as you walked to his car. The drive was silent, the only sound being his finger tapping on the wheel.

Once he pulled up in your driveway, he turned off the engine and sighed.

'Y/N I'm genuinely worried for you. I'm not San, okay? He texted me after you left his house, and told me what happened. The days after he does that we usually get some nasty comments from whoever he fucks. I looked for you, I expected to see you breaking a couple pencils imagining it was his dick or shooting him death glares, but you didn't come to class. Neither did you the next day. And it's two weeks into summer vacation and I find you, completely different, getting drunk in a bar at 5pm. I don't want you to waste one of the best years in your life because of my friend. I don't know how he gets away with that façade, I guess no one believes that he's actually kind of an ass...'

You listened to him carefully. He sounded genuinely concerned, and you were touched by his words for a second.

'The deed is done.' You told him, coldly.

He sighed, a little sad at your disbelief in him.

'Let me give you my number. Text me if it gets to your head again, please.'

The next day, when you woke up, you felt a little embarrassed at the way you spoke to him. A couple days went by but you never texted him, your pride wouldn't let you. But you couldn't stop thinking about him. How sweet he had been to you even though he didn't know you at all. How genuine he seemed...

Still, you didn't text him. You got in some nice clothes, fixed the hair you still hadn't bother to get an appointment for, and went to the same bar you had seen him the other day. Except at a decent hour this time.

As soon as you walked in you spotted him. He was very hard to miss, as he always seemed to be the best mannered and best composed person in the room.

'Drink alone often?' He turned around, a little surprised to hear your voice again. Seonghwa smirked.

'Didn't think I'd see you again so soon.' He told you, setting down his drink.

You said nothing. Your ego stopped you from doing so, you'd never admit you felt bad for being so cold to him.

There wasn't much of a conversation between the two of you, only some small talk accompanied by one too many drinks.

You only realized how late it was when the music became louder and the dance floor started becoming full of drunk men and women. The bar around you was spinning a little, but not enough that you couldn’t grab Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to dance with you.

‘Who knew you could act normal for once instead of stone cold?’

You slapped his chest as you drunk-danced to a random trap song.

‘I’m not stone cold, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t like your dear friend.’ You explained, looking at him as if you meant an offense.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and pulled close so you could see well his eyes under the flashing lights. He was dead serious.

‘Y/N, please stop. I’m not like him. I told this over and over, I hate what he does, so please stop comparing me to San.’

You looked at him for a second, not knowing what to do, or say. Up until this point you were the harsh one, but now his calm, soft side had turned into a serious person that you had never seen before.

As you thought about what he said, you gulped, rummaging through your brain, trying to find an adequate response.

‘Then help me take him down.’

Seonghwa tilted his head and frowned, not quite understanding what you meant.

‘If you hate it so much, help me do something about it. No one deserves to be treated that way and I want to make sure no other girl gets fooled by him.’

The male was a little mervous about it. A frienship with San was something he had known his whole life. Hell, he had a key to San’s house, he was on a first name basis with San’s parents... The male gulped and sighed.

He grabbed your wrist and took you outside, so you could speak properly without the banging sound of the music interrupting you.

‘Y/N you know I can’t do that, he’s my-’

‘Your friend? Is he though? Is he the person you became friends with? If a narcissistic asshole who lures in girls with a fake persona just to fuck them and trash them the second after came up to you and asked you to be ‘best friends’ would you happily take it?’ You interrupted him.

Seonghwa’s head was confused. It was torn between the comfort of a life-long friendship and what was morally correct. His head was trying to separate all the events, all the good memories and fun times, from the things that he didn’t like. And after a short minute, he came to a conclusion: you were right. All of the rainbows and flowers were buried in the past, all of the laughs and giggles he could remember was from little San, that went to church every Sunday and refused to kill any backyard bug because ‘bugs are friends’. Not new San. Not bubblegum-haired San that got Seonghwa in trouble over and over, not San that had Seonghwa pick him up from random girls’ houses at 2am because ‘he didn’t want to be in the same room as them after he fucked them’. Current San wasn’t Seonghwa’s friend.

‘Fine, I’ll help you. But how?’ He finally replied, earning a wide grin from you.

You didn’t exactly know how tho... You only knew that you wanted- no, you needed revenge. You thought for a while, before something came to mind.

‘Like this!’

You grabbed Seonghwa’s face and kissed his lips, for a brief second. When you pulled away his face was red and his eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of the socket at any second.

‘By kissing me!? I’m not complaining Y/N but, what?’

‘No dumb dumb, pretend we’re dating. It’ll make him uncomfortable. At least enough until he throws a fit and I get a confession out of him. Plus, if I’m close to his best friend it adds credibility when I say that he’s an ass, and people won’t just take me for ‘another crazy bitch who was rejected by San’.’

Seonghwa just shrugged.

‘Fine by me, I don’t care.’

After saying that, Seonghwa grabbed your waist and pulled you close, close enough so he could close the gap between your lips, just for a second longer than you had before.

‘What was that for?’ You asked, a little shocked, once you two pulled away.

‘Would you believe my excuse if I told you it’s to make it seem more realistic and not because you look very fuckable right now?’ Whether it was the alcohol or a hidden desire speaking, he meant it.

You just laughed him off, thinking it was a joke. Quickly you understood it wasn’t, by taking a look at the way his eyes became even darker and the way he bit his lower lip.

You didn’t hesitate when Seonghwa gently grabbed your hair and intertwined your fingers with his, as he dragged you along to his flat.

As soon as you stepped inside, the male shut the door and pressed you against it, taking a second to appreciate the way you looked under the dim lights. Seonghwa crashed his lips against yours and began undressing you in his living room, too needy to even let you get to his bedroom.

Unlike San, Seonghwa was gentle with his touch. It was a nice mix of romantic and passionate. He removed your clothes as his lips moved down your neck, leving very light bites so it wouldn’t be shamelessly marked on your neck. As soon as he got to your chest, however, you could tell the purple spots would be lasting for weeks.

You undressed him just as quickly as he undressed you, and it was truly mesmerizing what clothes could hide. Seonghwa’s body was just perfectly: fit, but not in excess. Broad shoulders, thick thighs and toned torso, that you kept on admiring as he picked you up and laid you on the couch slowly.

Seonghwa’s tip grazed over your entrance and you moaned into the kiss.

‘O-oh wait!’ He said, and stood up, leaving you confused as he stepped away.

He soon came back with a little bottle of lube, causing you both to flush.

‘I didn’t... want it to hurt?’

You smiled a little, and watched as the light from the moon shined and reflected on his slightly sweaty body.

Seonghwa aligned his tip by your entrance once more, and hovered over you, allowing you to encircle his neck with your arms.

He filled you up, slowly. You bit down on his shoulder causing him to groan. He started slow, but you could see he wanted to do more.

‘D-do it.’

‘What?’ He asked.

‘Don’t hold back, please.’

Seonghwa stopped for a second and looked at you.

‘I don’t want to hurt you...’

‘You won’t.’

The male licked his lips and kissed your temple.

‘Fine by me.’

Seonghwa grabbed waist, snapping his hips rapidly against yours, causing you to grip onto the couch for dear life. He reached for your neck, encircling it with his hand in a way that you didn’t even know you liked.

There were so many groans and moans and noises echoing around the room, and you couldn’t even hear them. You were too focused on the way he fucked you.

‘You like that? Like when I fuck your pretty little head dumb?’

‘S-shit! Yes!’

Soon enough you came, but he kept thrusting into you. The overstimulation was painful, yet pleasurable.

‘Can y-you take it babydoll?’

‘Fuck- yes! Seonghwa!’

You came once more, with a yell for his name, and almost immediately he pulled out and came all over your torso.

He looked down at the mess he made.

‘Oh... Sorry about that. You look good though.’

You collected some of the cum on your finger, put it in your mouth, and winked at him.

‘Fuck... You’re golden.’

Weeks went by and the changes were slow. You wanted it to look natural. It started with a couple of selfies the two of you posted when you met from time to time, then the dates became more frequent, and more public, and then you became his lockscreen photo. Soon enough, academic year began once more, and you agreed to walk into the building holding hands, as if you truly were in love. It shocked everybody, even San. They all had seen you two, but people just assumed that it was a summer fling, not a serious thing.

San wouldn’t deny that it bothered him, because it did. Very much actually. It made him uncomfortable that he treated you like that, because to him you were nothing, and now you were hanging out with his best friend all the time, which meant you were hanging out with him. And you didn’t even look bothered, at all.

The day came when you and Seonghwa first kissed in front of everybody, it was about a week into it, and that’s when San lost it. You were sitting with Seonghwa, San and a couple other guys that often hung out with them in the cafeteria. San was desperately trying not to look at the two of you. How did this even happen? Seonghwa did tell him he was seeing somebody but... You? He usually never looked at any other person he fucked again and now not only did he have to look at you, but he also had to hang out with you.

You were sitting so close to your ‘boyfriend’ that you were nearly on his lap. Your head was resting on his shoulder as he caressed your thigh. Seonghwa said something funny, and as both of you laughed you looked at each other. Your lips were awfully close, and as you stared into each other’s eyes you couldn’t help but share a brief, innocent kiss. A kiss that triggered San.

‘Okay what the fuck is going on!?’ The irritated male finally asked, through gritted teeth, while looking at the two of you.

‘What do you mean?’ You asked, feigning ignorance.

Seonghwa squeezed your thigh, as a warning to take it easy.

‘You know exactly what I mean.’

‘No, I don’t. I met Seonghwa, we started talking, enjoying our time together and eventually... we fell for each other.’ You told him, looking at Seonghwa lovingly to sell the lie.

‘Is this a part of some fucking plan to make me jealous?’

‘You? Why would this be about you?’

‘You know why.’

‘I really don’t.’

San gripped his cutlery hard. The way you were pretending nothing had happened was pissing him off beyond belief.

‘Stop pretending you don’t remember.’

‘Did... Something happen between the two of you? Did you date or something?’ Yeosang, who had become a little awkward by the conversation asked.

A couple curious students that were eating in tables nearby were overeharing the conversation, and quickly stopped what they were doing to focus on the gossip.

‘No, we didn’t date.’ San told Yeosang.

‘We didn’t, but I think I seem to remember something... Oh! Right! It was the way you pretended to be interested in me, then fucked me, and kicked me out of your house to never speak to me again.’

Yeosang and Yunho looked at San, with disgust painted all over their faces.

‘Dude, you still do that!?’ Yunho asked.

‘He never stopped.’

Everyone was shocked, as Seonghwa said that. He didn’t look up from his sad chocolate pudding.

‘What the fuck Seonghwa!? Is that what you do now!? Screw my leftovers and then stab me in the back!?’ San exclaimed.

Seonghwa slammed his fist on the table and looked up at San to meet his eyes. It was an expression that the latter had never seen on his cute, kind, puppy-like best-friend, and he wasn’t so sure he ever wanted to see it.

‘I’ve had enough! I’ve had fucking enough of you and your shitty behaviour, I’ve had enough of you using our friendship as an excuse to make me run around like a dog doing whatever you need, and I’m tired of getting angry looks from all the girls you fucked and then trashed away in this school. All while putting up this angel boy façade! You wanna fuck random girls and leave them on the side of the road the next day!? Get a hooker. You’re disgusting for toying with people like that. I’ve had it!’

Murmurs and whispers could be heard in the cafeteria, after Seonghwa’s explosion. There was silence in the table, however.

Suddenly, San’s famously adored pink hair was stained by brown goo.

‘This is for screwing me and telling me to ‘skidaddle’ right after you came.’ A sobbing girl said, as she dumped another pudding on his head. ‘And this one is for running off and fucking my sister the next day.’

San looked around. There was an occasional ‘you go king’ face from some pathetic little man who seemed to love his behaviour, but those ones were hidden behind the dozens angry and disgusted faces of every single peer of his.

He panicked. A guy stood up and as he started to step towards San, the latter just ran away. He dashed out of the cafeteria to never be seen again, at least in that building.

You turned to Seonghwa and hugged him.

‘Thank you.’

He smiled at you, as he pet your head.

‘It’s alright honey, it needed to be done.’

Seonghwa leaned in to kiss you, a sweet victory kiss, but you backed away.

‘Woah, we did it, we don’t need to fake it anymore!’ You told him with a smile. Silly him, he had forgotten!

‘Oh... Yes sorry, it’s the habit. Excuse me I... I need to go to the bathroom.’

He stood up and walked away, and you were left to talk to his friends. But you missed the way tears pooled in his eyes. You missed the way his face grew red and the unstability in his voice. You missed the red, puffy eyes and the bruised knuckles he tried to hide once he came back from the bathroom.

Seonghwa cursed himself for forgetting that it was all fake.

----

taglist: @sansbun @haram-monbebe @beefpork @softvelvetkisses @palegardenrebel @swimmingkpopblog @mirror-juliet @mingismoon @raysanshine @staytinyy

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mio-parasite · 3 years

Text

Lovely - M!Robot (Zach) X GN!Human Render

Warning: mention of physical and emotional abuse.

I'm sorry for the bad spelling and bad English

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The great technological breakthrough had brought great things to make people's lives simpler, including a robot known as l1f3 that would allow you to be a beloved of the house flawless. Trouble finding a good babysitter? No problem, l1f3 can take care of your children without worry. Is your husband or wife cheating on you with the housekeeper? Say no more, l1f3 is the perfect machine for making household things. Don't worry about your partner, l1f3 just obeying a single word that you, our great buyer, will have the privilege to program before turning it on. Take it now!! It will change your life forever.

More than 10 years have passed since the day this announcement was published; L1f3 was already in its latest version. It was the most sought-after robot since it went on the market, its main characteristics had evolved to make it a total slave of the human being. On the other hand, you didn't have an l1f3 in your possession, not precisely because you didn't have enough money to buy one, but because you preferred to do things at home the traditional way, with your own hands. Many of your co-workers knew about this and on more than one occasion they came to offer you their l1f3 at a very low price, since several of them were going to buy the new version that would come out.

Come on friends is the best offer nor will black Friday give you an offer as it is. - said his co-worker.

Tom I already told you I like to do things on my own, when I'm an old man of 89 years I'll think about getting one - you answered although deep down it was just a lie - maybe you'll only get some old people's home - well, until tomorrow Tom.

Until tomorrow. - I answer his companion almost reluctantly.

You left your work building to go to the corner parking lot. It was kind of sad that your work building didn't have a parking lot of its own but you couldn't ask much of a building that's more than 70 years old.

When you got to the parking lot you passed by the guard who as always was sleeping, you took a slight sigh to go under the fence and finally get to your car but something caught your attention a young man who was lying on the driver's door of your car.

Hey, are you okay? - you approached quickly, he seemed to be sleeping maybe he jumped glasses and was going to get into his car that was next to yours but his body can't stand the amount of alcohol was a good theory not the first time you run into a drunk in the parking lot - friend wake up I must go home.

When you put your hand on his shoulder, a strange sensation of something wet made you jump out of fright. When you turned on the light you realized that that liquid in your hand was blue but the sensation was not like paint much less it had smell it was strange that thing that was blue in your hand didn't seem you had seen it before.

You pointed your flashlight at the young man who was sitting with his back against the door of your car. Poor robot maybe they assaulted him or he was also one of those extremist groups that are finding that robots are living with humans. Well whatever the case you could not leave it thrown there is also so far do not think that there is a mechanic available also its owner may be looking for it would be good to look for the owner, but one of your friends explained that if you enter the official site of the company l1f3 and put the first four digits of the barcode that is in the back of the neck of the robot you can find its owner with his contact number in case you lost the robot.

That was quite timely but that time with your friend they put Numbers up out of sheer boredom finding the large number of people who owned one in their home even if it was low resources is surprising that much of society is dependent on these robots but there is no more time to digress you have to act the robot is in a bad situation. You approached her slowly to move her neck very carefully but when you gave her a little push to separate her head from the door your wrist was grabbed very tightly.

What do you think you're doing!? - said the robot with anger in his eyes.

"I just want to help," you answer somewhat scared. "it was all so sudden."

Lie - exclaimed the robot- you just want to disarm me and sell my parts as scrap.

It's not true - you answered somewhat altered it seemed that his grip was stronger, it was hurting you. - my pity, let me go. please

The robot gave you a last look at Stan before releasing you definitely, you weighed your wrist and then turned your gaze to the robot that was still sitting seemed so upset but also hurt not only in appearance but also emotionally.

You can really believe me or not but I won't hurt you, I just want to help you - you told the robot as you raised your hands in a signal that you had nothing planned to attack it.

Why? - answered the robot.

What? - you looked at him confused.

Because you want to help me, not since I am just an old-fashioned tin because not selling my parts or sending me to the nearest dump is not easier that I say - I bitterly laugh - there are thousands as I am easy to replace get a new one.

Hey don't say that - the robot looks at you mockingly - I know it sounds stupid but I don't think it's replaceable - sure your owner misses you.

So my owner - he laughed again with bitterness - he was the one who did this to me you know - he said pointing to his wound on his face - he already has two other new models I was only adorning for the bizarre wishes of his eldest daughter where I was his feet, a parparry table and... And... - the robot made a big pause while he clenched his fist - then I got tired of that deal and wanted to run away but my owner wouldn't let me shoot myself so I wouldn't run away but didn't let me not this time so despite that I just ran, ran and ran without looking back until I couldn't stand it anymore I came to hide here after you appeared.

Oh wow - you were really surprised poor robot deserves to be free - thank you for sharing this with me.

Yes - a little laugh of tiredness came out of the lips of that robot - honestly it was rare for me to think that only the information came out. - the robot replied.

Let me take you to my house tomorrow we'll go with a mechanic and you'll go do whatever you want outside - you tell the robot you think it really deserves something better.

Wait what!? - the robot was really surprised by your proposal - because you would do that for me we hardly know each other.

"That's true," you replied, "but it's not good to leave you here either."

I smiled at him, the robot didn't have many options to go with you even if it's quite a lie what you say doesn't matter anymore after all the robot already knows that its fate will be destruction so shit matters.

"Okay, I'll go with you," says the robot as he gets out of the ground.

You couldn't help but give that machine a slight smile.

By the way, what's your name? - you ask him while driving your vehicle.

There was no immediate response just when you left the parking lot to reach a traffic light.

"I have no name," he says as he looks out the window, "it's not something we're made to carry names.

But what do you say!? - surprised - well if you're thinking of leaving your life behind it would be good to give yourself a name.

The robot takes his eyes out of the window to stare with confused faces.

You deserve a name - not just calling yourself for who you are - you are entitled to a name - you answer.

Right you say - the robot seems to look away again at the sale - you're ridiculous you knew.

What about William or jack? , alex is also a good name, there's also brendon, Cody, tayler, josh - you say random name hoping your companion will say something.

Are you serious? - I ask the robot in confusion.

Oh you prefer more foreign names you could be Francisco, akira, Bruno - you keep suggesting names the rest of the way.

Enough is enough... Zacharie - I answer zacharie while you smile.

Zacharie if it suits you I could also tell you zach for short - you answer him with joy.

At last they reach their destination their beautiful home, look at zach a little worried about his condition.

Zach I hope to help you and that you can be free, maybe can not promise me that everything will go well 100% but I will. - zach will just seem more confused but deep down his metallic self wants to have some confidence in you.

#monster lover #monster x reader #robot x reader #robot boyfriend #exophilia #monster fucker #monster boyfriend

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sariahsue · 3 years

Text

Of Secrets and Snowflakes

What am I doing? What am I doing? What on earth am I doing? The obvious answer—stalking a celebrity in broad daylight—didn't seem to cover the magnitude of her stupidity. Ladybug knew she shouldn't be out here, in the cold, sitting in a barren, snow-glazed tree, staring at her breath and Adrien's front door. She was sure to be caught, and the worst of it was that she couldn't even see his window from here. All of the dangers, with none of the benefits.

It had been twenty-four hours since Chat Noir's accidental identity reveal and Ladybug just wanted to 'check on' her partner. Not talk to him exactly, but just see him. Make sure he was okay. Without him seeing her. But she couldn't really do that from here, so she'd have to loop around to his window.

Not giving herself the chance to change her mind, she unhooked her yoyo and jumped. Each swing closer gave her another ten reasons to turn back. It was too soon. Neither of them were ready. She shouldn't be putting him in danger like this.

But Ladybug was suddenly on his fence, balancing dangerously between making one last leap to his window ledge and retreating. The quiet of his yard made her stop. A breeze skimmed the tops off of snow drifts. Sunlight reflected off the icicles hanging from the roof.

She really should check on him. It hadn't been right to dump him and run like she had yesterday.

She took a breath. It was probably best to leave. Neither of them would be able to act professionally now that his identity was out in the open. If they didn't put up boundaries now, they wouldn't be able to protect Paris. And if they couldn't protect Paris, then Hawk Moth would win. But boundaries could easily become walls, and then they'd drift farther and farther apart and then—

Ladybug heard the wet smack before she felt the cold of the snowball exploding across her cheek.

"HEADSHOT! WOO!" Adrien jumped out from behind a very tall, thin snowman as chunks of snow dripped off Ladybug's cheek.

"Go on, tell me how impressed you are with that throw," he said, pulling off his woolen beanie and flourishing it as he bowed in her direction. "And I'm not even in my suit right now!"

"Shh!" Ladybug hissed, snapping her head around to make sure no one was close enough to listen.

"Who's going to hear me?" Adrien asked, putting his hat back on. The bright red pom pom flopped into his face. "My father?" He waved a mittened glove (again black and red, she was sensing a theme) at the snowman. With its pointed hair and narrow frame, it looked suspiciously familiar. Adrien ducked behind the snowman, raising one of its tree branch arms in a wave.

The snowman was much more a pile of snow if anything, shaped tall and thin into a pointed tip that resembled the twirl of an ice cream cone. It was all angles, even its thin tree branch arms stood from its frigid form and perched above its long carrot nose were a pair of oddly familiar thick-rimmed glasses. Ladybug bit down on her lip to stifle her laughter as she easily recognized the ill-fashioned, candy-cane-striped ascot tied around its neck.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," he spoke with an exaggerated deep voice. "'Tis I! Gabriel Snowgreste!"

"Did you steal those glasses it's wearing?" she asked, barely managing to hold back her giggles.

"They're a spare pair," Adrien said. "He won't even notice. I want to show you something." He held up a hand to her, ready to help her down, if she chose.

Ladybug chewed her lip as she hesitated. This was dangerous. The lines between them were already starting to fuzz and disappear, and if she couldn't maintain distance—no, she could. This wasn't any different than the other rare occasions she'd been to his house.

Ignoring his hand, Ladybug jumped down to land beside him. Snow crunched under her feet. "I can't stay for long," she said, looking from her hands, to the icicles hanging from his roof, and then to his lips—ahem, back to her feet. "I'm on patrol and I don't have much time to chat up random civilians."

"Aha, 'patrol.' Gotcha," Adrien said. He took a step closer, and she started to wonder if the pink on his cheeks was only from the frigid air. "Well, thank you, M'Ladybug, for stopping by to see me, someone you've never met before, when you were obviously so busy. Tell me, what's your favorite part of being a superhero? The powers? The fans? Or is it the amazing company you keep?"

She couldn't help a small giggle. Adrien, your Chat is showing. She wasn't fast enough to convincingly cover it with a cough and saw his eyes sparkle and the color on his cheeks deepen, and realized she'd made a mistake already. Professional. Distant.

Dang it.

"Since you're here, want to stay and see what I made?" He took her silence for assent and reached for her hand, leading her across the yard.

Brisk air blew at her back, creeping across the exposed skin of her neck and ears, but Ladybug's brain was overheating. Stay here? With Adrien? Forever? Her steps were halting and uneven. When he turned to see what the matter was, he dropped her wrist immediately.

"Sorry!" he said, putting up his hands. "I didn't mean—I shouldn't have grabbed—s-sorry, I mean, we can hang out if you want? I've got hot chocolate inside. We could talk about—"

Wind whistled through the empty branches above them, carrying snowflakes and another dozen reasons to say yes, that sounded wonderful. Adrien—her partner—was warm and inviting.

"O-or," he continued, looking around the yard for inspiration. "We could watch something? Or I could read something to you? Not that I think you can't read, but …" His voice stuttered and died away under her continued silence. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed."

It had only been a day, and their sync, their perfect harmony was already ruined, she could tell. How many times had Chat Noir simply looked at her and known what she was thinking? And now he was reading her all wrong.

"I really shouldn't be here," she said. "It's not safe."

"No one's going to see us," Adrien promised, a little desperately. "And we're friends, aren't we? We can hang out, right?"

"Well …" Another gust of wind, and movement caught her eye: the stick arms of Gabriel Snowgreste. Adrien had been out here all alone, ignored by everyone he cared about, and she couldn't have that. Ladybug was a woman of many plans, so from the ashes of 'pretend she had never met Adrien' another one was quickly born. It was called 'pretend everything was under control.' For his sake, and for the sake of the team, she'd set her emotions aside.

"Of course we're friends," she said, before firmly reminding herself, and nothing more. "Lead the way."

In three short skips, Adrien led her around the corner of the mansion, straight toward a mound of snow that went up to his shoulders. "Tada!"

"Oh," Ladybug said. She took in the patches of dead grass peeking out around the edges of the mound, and the shovel leaning against the side. What was it? He'd obviously worked hard, and she didn't want to say the wrong thing. "L-looks impressive?" She swallowed hard, trying to force her stutter down.

"You're admiring the wrong side, LB." He crouched and twisted out of sight. On the correct side of the small dome was a stubby tunnel opening, with a hole just wide enough to crawl through. An igloo. How had he found enough time to build an entire igloo? Shaking her head, she followed him inside.

The interior was small. Even with her height disadvantage, she wouldn't have been able to lie down without her feet sticking out the door, but that only added to the igloo's coziness factor and—she swallowed hard—sense of intimacy. Dim sunlight filtered through the thinner areas of the dome, creating a soft glow. And Adrien smiled sweetly at her as she sat down. She needed to make this quick.

"Thank you," he said, scooting closer to her.

"F-f-for?" There was no reason to stutter. There was no reason to shiver in anticipation as he lined his body up next to hers.

"Coming to see me. It's not a patrol day, so—" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I miss you when I don't get to see you."

It was an odd time to realize that igloos had no windows. No one could see them, no one would witness whatever happened next. And she really needed some air, because Adrien was right there, his face illuminating the small space. How many times had Chat Noir—Adrien—told her that he loved her? The heat on her face was going to melt the igloo he worked so hard on.

"Glad I could make you beel fetter—I mean f-feel better!" Ladybug scrambled for the tunnel entrance and for safety. The biting chill brought her clarity. She'd thought she needed more time to adjust to her two favorite boys being one person, but that wasn't the real reason she was running away. She couldn't be trusted around him. Distance and control and careful plans were no match for Adrien Agreste.

"I bet you'd make a good snow angel." Adrien lay in the igloo's entrance, face in his hands and staring at her, freezing her on the spot. "Because you're so angelic."

Ladybug kind of, sort of, maybe, gaped at him for several seconds before hitching her heart back into place and closing her mouth.

"Sorry, was that too much?" he asked.

She managed to squeak out a small, "No!" before she dropped to her knees and kissed his forehead, letting her mouth rest against his skin just a fraction of a second longer than she thought she should. "Maybe next time, Chaton."

And then she bolted.

Ignoring the voice that said to stay, to see where this path led, Ladybug finally achieved her distance. She didn't turn around until her feet landed on the hard sidewalk, and they were separated by the mansion's iron fence. Adrien was still visible through the bars, crouching behind the igloo to watch what she should do, expression obscured by his creation.

Even when she was trying to protect him, she hurt him.

He wasn't just Chat Noir anymore. And not just Adrien. He was her … he was so many things to her that she wasn't even sure what to call him. He was her partner. Her best friend. The person she always wanted to run to …

And was now running away from to protect.

***

That night, darkness fell on an uncertain Ladybug. Shadows stretched beneath her dangling feet as it started to snow lightly. Marinette had known all day that she needed to apologize, that much had been obvious. She'd even prepared a thermos of hot cocoa for a peace offering.

But now what? How could she go on without hurting or endangering Adrien further? The cleanest way to keep him and the city safe was to tell him they needed to only see each other during akuma attacks, to maintain the dynamic that had always worked so well. Would either of them be able to stand that?

The only clear answer was that running away from him had solved nothing. She sighed, scooped up the thermos, and pushed off to find him. She would think of something. She had to.

Ladybug was greeted with the dark, empty windows of Adrien's room. It was too early for him to be in bed, but too late for him to be at a photoshoot. If she knew Chat Noir, and if Chat Noir was Adrien, then she was sure he'd be out and about somewhere. As she raced to all his favorite hangout spots, doubt started to set in. This was another sign of their weakening bond. He had read her wrong before, and now she couldn't anticipate where he would go.

A few minutes later and getting desperate, she swung back toward his house, hoping that maybe he'd already gone home. In between street lamps, hundreds of string lights covered buildings and fences and trees. Icy puddles and piles of snow seemed to blur together as she pushed herself faster. She arced over the park and spotted a lone figure on a bench staring up the Ladybug and Chat Noir statue. Lights hung off her stone counterpart like necklaces and scarves. The person on the bench looked like marshmallow in a puffy white coat that was several sizes too big. But she recognized the red pom pom.

Landing silently next to him, she asked, "Hey, on the prowl?"

Adrien sat up a little straighter at the sound of her voice. "Ladybug! You're here! I mean, you don't have to stay if you don't want to." He slid to make room for her on the bench, ever hopeful.

"Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" She took the offered seat and uncapped the thermos for him.

"I'm guessing you were dying to see me and have been calling my name for hours."

"You haven't been here out for hours, have you?" she asked in alarm.

"No, no," he assured her. "I was just—never mind." He took a sip of the thermos to avoid her questioning look.

They passed thermos back and forth several times before Ladybug said, "Sorry for freaking out at you earlier. I'm here because I want to spend time with you, but …" The words caught in her throat. What should have followed was, but we can't right now. She couldn't say it. She was here because she wanted to be with him. Another sip hid her struggle, as she tried to buy herself time, so he wouldn't have to see her confusion, to delay the words that would hurt him.

The wind blew, and she shivered, though she resisted the urge to lean into him for warmth.

He noticed her shudder anyway. "Maybe this isn't the best time for this conversation," he said.

Ladybug pressed her fingers into the side of the thermos, trying to draw in its heat. "I'm fine." Her teeth chattered. "Not cold." They needed to have this conversation. She needed to get a hold of herself for his sake, though she wasn't sure if she meant her shivers or her emotions.

As lightly as another breeze, Adrien's arm snaked around her shoulder, bringing with it half of the coat. She tried to protest, but he just leaned over to grab the thermos from her and pulled her deeper into his side in the process. "Sorry, but you're freezing. Don't try to hide it," was the only apology he gave.

Now she'd done it. Given him the wrong impression. He thought she was stopping because of the weather and not because she was choking on her words. He'd misread the situation again. They were out of sync. All of her efforts to fix it had failed. What was she supposed to do now?

"You probably think we shouldn't be sitting out here like this," he said. "I get it."

Ladybug frowned. Did he really? Could he tell how badly they were messed up?

"It's been pretty crazy for me. I can't imagine what it's been like for you. You're always the one with the plan, and there's no way to plan our way out of this. It'll just take some time."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Maybe … she started to hope. Maybe he did get it.

"But I trust you, Ladybug. And I'm glad we're in it together," he said. "Right?"

"Always," she said. They couldn't turn back to where they had been. And they couldn't stop their partnership from developing. But as she laid her head on his shoulder and stared up at the sparkling lights illuminating their statues, she thought maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing after all.

For now, she had a new plan …

Trust her partner.

***

Author's note: This was written for the Miraculous Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season. Together, we raised $2,385 for the Organization of Transformative Works. The zine is no longer on sale, so all the authors have been given permission to post their works!

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladrien #fanfiction #incorrect quotes

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Nowhere Else to Go

Rating: Teen, Gen

Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death.

TW: Self-harm, mentioned child abuse, emotional manipulation

Chapter 3/4: Smoke and Mirrors

Ch 1, Ch 2

The sound of shattering glass woke Lilith up.

She rubbed her eyes. Why was she on the floor in Eda’s room? Oh. Right. Hunter. Where was he?

She shuffled towards the direction of the sound she’d heard and opened the bathroom door. Hunter was sitting on the floor, coughing, holding Belos’ mask over his face. The mirror was broken in a spiderweb of cracks, and Lilith glanced at Hunter’s hand to see bruises forming on his knuckles. She slid down the wall to sit next to him.

“I never liked that mirror either.”

His shoulders shook. “I keep looking in the mirror—and it’s his face, and it’s his curse, and I—”

Lilith got up and left, returning with a blanket. She walked up to the mirror, her own face reflecting back at her in a thousand broken shards. She covered up the mirror with the blanket, using a plant glyph to tie it in place. She sat back down to Hunter, imitating his arms-on-knees position. She didn’t say anything, just sat there.

“I just—I think I remember some of it, he had this book, and he had all of this stuff, and then… I don’t know anymore.” Hunter slowly lowered the mask, setting it on the floor. “I woke up, and he was gone, and I was stuck like this.”

“Luz… Luz told me that one of the Palisman chose you. Where did it—”

To Lilith’s surprise, Hunter’s eyes welled up with tears, and he shrank back into himself, burying his face in his arms. She heard a muffled sob, and his shoulders shook even harder

“Oh.” Lilith reached out and tentatively put an arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

He made surprisingly little noise for how hard his shoulders were heaving. Lilith got up and left, closing the bathroom door. The instant she was out, she heard him start sobbing. Her hand shook on the doorknob, and she dropped with a thud to her knees, leaning against the bathroom door.

“Lilith?” her mother said quietly, poking her head up the stairs.

She got up, making her way down to the kitchen. “Good morning.”

“Is he…”

“I think… I think he’s finally had the time to process what happened to him. Got over the shock.”

“And…”

“He’s angry. Sad. Unsure of what he’s doing.”

“Ah.”

Lilith heard a thud from upstairs, and she grabbed a bottle of elixir, running back to the bathroom. Hunter was choking on the curse again, and he clawed desperately at Lilith’s hand when she knelt next to him.

“I’ve got you,” she promised, tilting the bottle of elixir down his throat, “That’s it. Easy, there.”

He coughed up the remaining slime and curled his knees back up to his chest. “Thank you.”

“Do you… need anything?”

He looked down to the side, chest still heaving from the attack. “No. Thank you.”

Lilith stood there awkwardly for a few more moments. “Right. Okay.”

She went back downstairs. “Another attack,” she explained, “I’m wondering if they’re related to stress, or high emotion, like the owl beast is, or if they’re completely random.”

Her mother shifted uneasily. “If it’s like you said and the curse is going to kill him, it might just be that the attacks are getting worse because he’s closer to the end.”

Lilith’s hands curled into fists. “No. No, that’s not going to be his end. I’m not going to let him die because Belos decided—”

Her mother gently took her hand, uncurling the fist and holding her flat hand between her own. “Lilith, love. Calm down. Take a step back. What do we know about the curse?”

Lilith took in a deep breath. “We know Belos struggled for years to find a cure. He was never successful. We know the curse doesn’t follow a soul—if it did, the swap wouldn’t have worked. It follows a body. We know that the elixir has been staving off attacks, at least, so it must share some qualities with the Owl Beast curse.”

“That’s my girl. Keep it up—I’m almost done with breakfast.”

Lilith paced the kitchen floor. “We know it started on the outward appearance first—hence the mask Belos always wore. As time went on, it moved in on the inner organs, like it’s doing now to Hunter. But what about the palisman, where do they fit in?”

“What?”

“Luz teamed up with Hunter when the Emperor was trying to steal palisman—and Hunter had a palisman, but it’s gone now, and he seems pretty distraught about it, so I don’t think it just got lost or separated. Clearly the Emperor is destroying palisman for some reason, but what?!”

“Why don’t you ask Hunter?”

“You heard him crying, right? I don’t think he’s going to be ready to talk about it for a while.”

“He might not have a while, Sweet Flea.”

“Still. I won’t put him through it again.” Lilith leaned against the kitchen cupboard. “I… think he has nightmares. I’ve had curse-related nightmares before, and Eda said she had some—and in some of them she saw me, or at least a shadowy form of me.”

“You think Hunter might have a clue to where the curse came from in his nightmare.”

“It… wouldn’t be fun. For him to relive it. But Hootsifer sent me a letter about how Eda managed to unlock her harpy form from interacting with her curse in an enchanted sleep. If Hunter is okay with it—we may be able to find out more.”

“If he’s okay with it.”

“Who would want to relive their nightmares at full strength?” Lilith asked quietly, “But our options are closing off. If Eda hasn’t seen Hunter’s body running around, there’s not much we can do about getting that rat Belos to switch back. And even if we did catch him, I’m not sure there’s much we could threaten him with that would make him switch back to a dying body. It may be our best bet to cure Belos’ body instead of trying to get Hunter back in his. That would at least give us time to find Belos. Hunter said that the only thing Belos wouldn’t try was wild magic. He thinks that means there’s a cure in the glyphs. I’m not sure though, it might just be that wild magic did this to Belos.”

“Mmm.” Her mother handed her two plates. “One for you, one for your new apprentice.”

Lilith nearly dropped the plates. “App—mother!”

“What? I saw you teaching him magic! Doesn’t that make him your apprentice?”

“It’s more—I don’t know! He can’t do magic without help, I’m not sure that’s something I can—whatever.” Lilith tightened her grip on the plates, thumping up the stairs. The light was still on in the bathroom, and she slowly pushed the door open.

The plates dropped to the floor, and she skidded down on her knees next to him, grabbing his wrists.

“Hunter, no!”

A broken shard of mirror was in his hands, coated in slime and blood. He’d been gouging at the curse on his face, like he could somehow dig the magic out. His breath hitched in his chest, and he struggled against her, trying to get at his face again. Lilith’s stomach heaved as she looked at his face—he’d managed to cut to the bone, but the curse was already moving to cover it up. Blood dripped down his face, like someone in one of Eda’s grotesque horror movies.

“Hunter! Hunter, stop!”

Lilith managed to pry the shard of broken glass out of Hunter’s hands, wincing and dropping it as it cut her. His palms were bloody and scratched up from gripping the shard. He kept trying to yank away from her, his eyes wide and panicked.

“I can’t—lemme go, I have to—I can’t—”

“Hey—Hey, shhhhhhh. Shhhh, it’s okay—Hunter, please—”

He launched himself into her shoulder, sobbing. Blood and slime and tears all mixed on her dress, but Lilith didn’t care. She let him keep crying into her shoulder, gently rubbing his back.

“Hey. Heeeey,” she soothed, like she might for a frightened animal, “Hey, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“I can’t keep—I just keep thinking—and then there’s the attacks, and I just—”

“Okay. Okay, I know. I know, it’s…” it was what? Okay? It wasn’t okay, this curse was killing him, and it was driving up his anxiety before it did. So she just hugged him tighter. “I’ve got you,” she repeated fiercely

He sniffed and pulled back. Lilith kicked the mirror shard away and opened up a cabinet. “Okay. Let’s take a look at those cuts.” She carefully bandaged up the slices on his face, then his palm. She bandaged up the cuts on her own hand, too, and held it up. “There. We match.”

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

“I—I just—I—”

“Hunter. It’s okay. Really.”

He coughed, wiping away slime. “Ugh—I… I think…”

“I think you need a nap,” Lilith suggested gently, “You look awful.”

He gripped her wrist, his fingers like a vise. “No!”

“…Nightmares?” Lilith guessed.

“I can’t—I just keep seeing him, and then it’s me, and my palisman—” his eyes filled with tears. “It was an accident!” he blurted, “I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean… to do what?”

“Belos would sort of… drain palisman, take all of their magic. It staved off the curse, made it better.”

“O-oh. Did he…”

Hunter’s shoulders started to shake again. “I’d just woken up. I was confused. Belos was gone. I didn’t know where I was, or what was going on, and it tried to comfort me, and—” He buried his face in his hands. “I killed it! I killed—”

Almost involuntarily, Lilith wrapped her arms around him again. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said fiercely, “You weren’t trying to—it was Belos’ fault.”

“It was my friend,” Hunter sobbed, his voice cracking, “It was the only one I had! And I—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Lilith repeated, “It wasn’t.”

Hunter rubbed the bandages covering his face. “This stupid curse.”

Lilith caught his wrists again, gently pulling his hands away from his injured face. “Eda… has been able to control when she transforms. She made peace with her curse. Accepted it as part of who she is. Maybe if—”

Hunter stood up, hands clenched in fists. “Accept it?! Accept what?! This isn’t my curse! I didn’t do anything to get it, Belos did, and then just dumped it on me. I shouldn’t have to accept it!”

“I know—I know it’s not fair, I know it never should have happened to you, but until we can find Belos, or a cure, we have to figure out other ways to keep it from spreading.”

“I can’t accept it! I—”

Hunter broke off in a fit of coughing, gasping and choking. Lilith grabbed an elixir from her room and raced back down the hallway, tilting the bottle. Hunter gasped and sputtered, and panic started to sweep over Lilith like a tidal wave. It wasn’t working!

Hunter gurgled in a final kind of way, twitching and Lilith laid him flat on the ground, tilting his head back and pushing down with the heel of her hands on his chest. “One, two, three, four,” she started counting under her breath. “MOTHER! HELP!”

She kept pushing. “Please,” she murmured, “please work, please work, please work—”

Feathers were starting to sprout on her arms, and she willed them to go away. “Not now, owl beast!” she pleaded, “Not now! Literally any time but now!”

She pushed harder, tears rolling down her face. “Please!”

Hunter gagged and coughed, heaving in desperate, frantic breaths. He latched onto her arm, hacking and coughing.

“Lilith—”

Lilith clutched his arm just as tightly, although she made sure her claws weren’t hurting him. “Oh my magic—okay. Okay, okay, okay.” She took in a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

He coughed, spitting out more curse slime. “I—I think so. The elixir—why didn’t it work, it was working before-!”

Lilith yanked him into a hug. “I thought I’d lost you!” she gasped.

He tensed for a moment, but then slowly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m… still here.”

To Lilith’s surprise, tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I know, I know.”

Her mother finally burst in the door. “What’s wrong?! What’s going on?!”

“The elixirs aren’t working,” Hunter explained quietly.

Lilith hugged him tighter. “We’ll find something else.”

“…Lilith, dear, can I talk to you?”

Lilith sat back, holding Hunter by the shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out,” she promised, then followed her mother out to her room. “What?”

“… Lilith, if the elixirs aren’t working, I don’t think we have much time left. And you’re not any closer to finding a cure for this thing.”

“No! We’re going to fix this, I’m going to fix this! He’s just a kid, he shouldn’t have to go like this!”

“Sweet Flea, it’s like you said when he first got here. It might just be a matter of making him comfortable before—”

“NO!” Lilith took a deep breath as feathers started to sprout around her neck. “No. That’s not an option. Not anymore. I’m going to get rid of this curse if it’s the last thing I do.”

Ch 4

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #hunter wittebane #toh hunter #toh lilith #lilith clawthorne #tw: self harm #my writing

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mxargo · 3 years

Text

birthday love

matthew gray gubler

summary: you surprise matthew on his birthday

word count: 1795

warnings: love, affection I guess. lmk

you and matthew have been friends for years.

you and him met at paget's wedding, you being one of her closest friends and since then you and matthew were inseparable.

he brought you on set almost everyday, just wanting you to be around.

whenever he was high on emotions, he'd run right back to his trailer where he was sure you'd be sitting on the small couch watching a random movie. you'd hold him close and kiss the top of his head and eventually the noice faded out and it was just the two of you.

whenever it was his birthday, you were almost always the first person to call him, or drop by his house to spend time with him.

to say he loved you, was unconditional to say the least. he loves you - he's in love with you.

you were at the top of his mind, he was always thinking of you.

he felt as if you were it for him.

but with love comes fear.

he was never planning on telling you how he felt.

♡♡

spending time alone in a big house on your birthday can be a little draining.

covid was a huge issue and matthew couldn't go out to see his friends like he'd wanted too. he didn't want to spend his birthday alone, but he didn't feel like he had any other choice.

knock knock knock

he wasn't expecting anyone to come around, but when he saw you through the peep hole, he was elated.

"y/n!!"

"hey matthew. happy birthday dude"

"what're you doing here?"

"it's your birthday. I wasn't gonna not come"

you could tell he was trying to keep a safe distance, not wanting to risk anything for the either of you.

"I spent two weeks all isolated and even took a test to make sure I was safe so I could come here. I didn't want you to spend your birthday alone"

that sad look in his eyes went away and all he could do was smile.

"that's ridiculous" matthew laughed and went straight to you, picking you up and dragging you back into his home. "you're ridiculous"

as he put you down, he grabbed your face and kissed your head. "I can be"

affection was something both of you was so used to, cuddles, sleeping on top of each other on small couches inside trailers, little kisses every once in awhile. you both loved it, but he wanted the real thing but he'd known you for so long and he didn't want to risk messing anything up.

"I feel like you should be the one kissing my head" he was a lot taller than you, so it was a bit difficult sometimes but you grabbed his face pulling him down and gave him something better, butterfly kisses all over his face just until he couldn't stop laughing.

"you're very pretty matthew"

"hm. so are you"

as you pulled your bags towards his kitchen, he followed you around like a lost puppy. "whatcha doin?" you started to pull together all his birthday stuff, dinner and dessert. "I'm making you stuff" he laughed lighted picking up a jar of sauce, probably reading something off of it. "just stuff?" you took the jar from him putting it aside.

"I'm making you dinner and a desert" he looked up at you with those adorable eyes, especially in his glasses he looked so cu-

"y/n!"

"what?"

"I said what're you making" sighing feeling like you've been defeated you completely avoided his gaze now trying to get started on cooking. "I'm making you a huge salad" but you couldn't help it. you looked at him and he gave you the most demonizing look. "I don't want that" and now all you could do was laugh. "relax I'm kidding. I can't tell you yet, it's a surprise."

"you're making spaghetti, aren't you?"

"shut up"

"okay fine. where's my gift" smiling mostly to yourself, you still didn't look at him. "you're looking at it"

"I want to exchange my gift. I don't like it, she's very mean" scoffing to yourself, you swung a spatula between the two of you. "I am the very best gift you will ever have. and I am very nice by the way. you should be thanking me" he took the spatula out of your hand, holding it softly. "you are. thank you y/n"

and now you were gone. when he did shit like that it made you think he was just as in love with you just as much as you were, but how could he? he was him and you were you.

"great. now I am going to make dinner. you need to leave my kitchen, I need to cook in peace" laughing to himself he gave you back the spatula "your kitchen?"

"matthew!"

"okay okay, I'm going. meanie"

♡♡

by the time you had finished making dinner, you set it aside and finished up desert, making a huge mess all over yourself.

"matthew!!" matthew came running over to you, thinking you were in danger. "what's wrong?" he was clearly out of breath from running through his house. "I got flour all over my clothes, can I borrow something of yours?"

"seriously?"

"what?"

"the way you screamed my name i thought someone was trying to kill you"

"that would be very unfortunate given you aren't a real FBI agent"

he looked upset and you almost felt bad for making him worry about you. "okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you" sighing looking away from you, he pulled you close in a hug kissing your hair. "you're so stupid" laughing together you realized he was right. "yeah that's true, but uh I gotta say matthew" pulling away from the hug you stepped back away from the mess "you look more of a mess than me gube. I think you're one year closer to that senior citizen membership, you might need to start using your cane again" you thought it was funny, matthew on the other hand, wasn't having it. matthew took a cup of flower dumping it right over your head. "matthew!! what was that for?" he was laughing now. throwing his head back, filling the house with his echoes of laughter, you could almost fall for him all over again by the way that he looked. "what's so funny?" after awhile he finally stopped laughing looking at you straight in the eyes. "you have flour all over your face. you look older than me!" you couldn't help but laugh with him.

after what felt like forever. you both eventually stopped laughing. matthew gave you a sweatshirt and you cleaned up the mess, then changed out of your messy clothes. the sweatshirt he gave you was so soft, a little big on you given he was much taller than yourself but it was cute. it had little bears all over it.

after awhile, you and matthew ate dinner together and watched a bunch of old Halloween moves together, mostly just throwing popcorn at each other until the bowl was empty. "I think I want my desert now" smiling at him, you kissed his cheek and ran off to the kitchen.

coming back into his living room with a small cake on a bigger plate, you sat on the small coffee table across from him as you put the candles on his cake and lighting them with a match. "make a wish" he took the plate from your hands. "sit" he motioned you to sit next to him and when you did he pulled you closer kissing your nose. "thank you y/n. you really are the best gift" crunching your nose at him, hiding your clearly visible blush, he poked you with his nose to look at him. "aren't you gonna sing for me?" you pulling your hands up in his hair, moving it out of his eyes. "isn't that a little cheesy?" he laughed softly, pecking your nose again. "nope. you don't have a choice."

as you sang him 'happy birthday' you noticed all he could do was focus on you. and for you, it was so hard to keep looking at him. you wanted him to kiss you, you wanted to kiss him. but it was his birthday, planning on confessing your undying love for your bestfriend can wait another day just in case he turns you down.

when you stopped singing, he blew out his candles and set the cake down. he took both his hands in yours, kissing your knuckles. "thank you y/n, really" smiling mostly for him, he pulled you into a hug. "of course. I'd do anything for you." as you pulled away, you scooted a little further from him. "what did you wish for?" he laughed as he started to cut his cake, putting them on two separate plates. "I can't tell you that" sighing as he handed you a plate, you looked at him as he started eating. "why not?" he gave you an obvious look but answered anyway. "because it won't come true"

now was a time. you could tell him now, tell him about how much you loved him far beyond friendship. matthew wasn't the type to back away from a friend so even if it all went to hell, he'd still be there for you.

you took both plates setting them back down, he looked at you with a confused look on his face. "matthew?..." you took his hand looking at your intertwined hands, not being able to look in his eyes. "yes?"

you let go of his hand, bringing his face closer to yours and kissing him softly on the lips. he was surprised at first, you could feel it but in about a second, he pulled you closer, resting his hands on your waist.

when you both pulled away he brought his hands to your face smoothing the hair away from your frame. "I love you y/n"

laughing happily with him, you kissed him again. "I love you too matthew"

after awhile of soft kisses, he pulled away grabbing the plates back. after you both finished, joking about what seems like nothing he couldn't help but laugh at whatever was going through his head.

"what's so funny?"

"it's just weird, I guess"

"what is?"

"how you manage to make my wish come true" you laughed with him and kissed him again, quicker this time. "that was so cheesy" he pulled you on his lap, leaving a small mess next to you both. "yeah, but you love it"

grabbing his face, you kissed him again as he held into your by your side.

letting your heads rest against one another, it almost felt molded for one another.

"yeah, I do"

#matthew gray gubler #gube #matthew gray #matthee gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x y/n #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg fic #criminal minds #i can't believe he's 25 #spencer reid

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caranfindel · 3 years

Text

Fic: You don’t know how it feels (to be me)

gen, s6 | about 3600 words | pg for language | characters: soulless sam winchester, dean winchester

synopsis: Soulless Sam tries to deal with his brother's feelings about, well, everything. Including his hair. Set in season 6, before "You Can't Handle the Truth."

An idea I had a long time ago, resuscitated by Jared's Walker haircut. The title is from "You Don't Know How It Feels" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

. . . . . .

It's a stupid case.

The manager of the county fairgrounds is a stooped, gnarled old man wearing one of those ball caps veterans wear sometimes. Gold embroidery on the dark blue hat proudly displays the name of his ship or submarine or whatever. Sam doesn't care about his ship or submarine or whatever. He doesn't care about this guy's service at all. Most days, old Blue Hat here got three meals a day and a warm, dry place to sleep in exchange for whatever he gave up. He got a pension when he was done fighting. Sam gets to scrounge for cheap food and sleep in crappy hotels when he's lucky enough to actually land someplace other than the back seat of the Impala. Sam's service to his country earned him a trip to Hell. Sam will get to stop fighting when he's dead. His only pension will be a pyre.

Sam doesn't even get to sleep any more.

(This should bother him. But the truth is, it doesn't.)

Blue Hat frowns at Sam's ID and snorts derisively. "You don't look like a Fed. You look like a goddamn hippie."

He rolls his eyes at the old man, even though he knows Dean hates it when he does that. It's something he didn't do Before, no matter how annoying or insipid the witness. Sam doesn't give a good goddamn what this guy thinks about his hair, but apparently his brother does. "He's been doing some undercover work," Dean says. "Sometimes you've got to look like a goddamn hippie to blend in."

Blue Hat sniffs his disapproval and ignores Sam for the rest of the interview, directing all of his answers to Dean. Which is fine. The old guy doesn't seem to have anything useful to add anyway. Sam leaves his brother to the pointless interview about the stupid case and wanders around the building, taking pictures of the unexplained runes that brought them here. He's bored. The sudden appearance of mysterious runes on the bland metal exterior of a county fairgrounds building feels witchy, and Sam really doesn't care about witches. Two measly deaths, quite possibly from natural causes, and now he's out here standing in cow shit. Or goat shit or pig shit. This entire day has been shit, literally and figuratively.

Dean joins him after a couple of minutes, apparently done with Blue Hat. "What do you think?" he asks.

Sam shrugs. "Too early to tell. If these runes are what Bobby thinks they are, they'll change under moonlight, but moonrise isn't until 9:05 pm."

“Jesus," Dean moans. "I can't stay awake that long. I've already gone almost two days. Let's go back to the motel and crash, and we'll hit this place again tonight."

Or not, Sam wants to say. I think you jumped on this paper-thin excuse for a job just because the alternative was sitting in a motel room with me waiting for an actual case to come up, Sam wants to say. But neither of these are things he would have said Before, and Dean is so goddamn twitchy about Sam being different than Before.

As they turn back to the Impala, Dean glances at Sam with a slight smile. "Dude's not wrong, you know."

“What?"

“You do look like a goddamn hippie." Dean's hand twitches toward Sam, like he's going to smack him on the back of the head or ruffle his hair, but he pulls back without touching him. Because they don't do that now. Casual, good-natured, brotherly contact isn't a thing now. Dean doesn't touch him unless there are injuries involved.

(This is another thing that should bother Sam. It would have, Before.)

. . .

Dean hangs his suit in the closet, sets an alarm, and collapses on top of the covers. Sam stares at his own bed. The threat of spending hours pretending to be asleep makes his skin crawl. If Dean falls asleep quickly enough, he can skip the whole charade.

“Hey, I think I'm gonna shower first," he says.

Dean doesn't open his eyes. "Just don't wake me up when you get out."

In the bathroom, Sam turns on the water but doesn't get undressed. He stands at the mirror, staring at his too-long hair. Why has he bothered to hold onto it? He remembers caring about his hair. He remembers it being a small fuck you to John, the one area in his life where he was able to cling to some autonomy. It's not that he's forgotten about that; he just doesn't give a shit any more.

And like Dean said, Blue Hat wasn't wrong. He does look like a hippie. The hair is a hazard, and it does clash with any kind of law enforcement disguise. Maybe it's time to do something about it. He has time to kill anyway, while Dean sleeps.

(Sam should care that he doesn't need to sleep any more. Dean would definitely care, if he found out. Dean cares so much about any aspect of Sam that is less normal than he thinks it ought to be. Even if it's something that makes him a better hunter. Dean didn't appreciate it when Sam could exorcise demons without killing the host, and Dean wouldn't appreciate that Sam can get so much done when he's not sleeping. He could never understand why this version of Sam is so much better than the way he was Before. It's a shame Dean hasn't discovered the option of Not Caring.)

(Sometimes Sam wonders if getting back with Dean is worth the trouble.)

(And that should bother him too.)

Sam shuts off the shower and pulls out his phone. He needs to find a barber shop in walking distance. Dean will get all pissy if he wakes up and the car is gone; less so if only Sam is missing. Luckily, there's a shop that might still be open. It's one of those ridiculous sports-themed places that presumes men are fussy toddlers who need to be distracted from the ignominy of a hair cut. At least they tend to be staffed by women, and those women tend to be prettier than average. With any luck, he can kill two birds with one stone.

When he opens the bathroom door, Dean is either asleep, or pretending to be. Sam scrawls couldn't sleep, back soon on the motel notepad and closes the door behind him as silently as possible.

(He misses his car. He didn't have an emotional attachment to it, like Dean and the Impala, but it was convenient and it suited him.)

(He doesn't actually have an emotional attachment to anything. That should bother him.)

. . .

Two stylists, both predictably prettier than average, look up when he walks in. The redhead says "sorry, sir, we're just about to close up," and continues sweeping up hair trimmings. But the brunette looks him up and down and smiles. And Sam's partial to brunettes anyway.

He gives her a once-over in return and smiles back. "Do you have time for just a quick cut? I'd be eternally grateful."

She stares at him for a minute, appraising. "Well, how could I turn down an offer of eternal gratefulness?" she says with a wink. She turns to the redhead. "Why don't you go on home. I've got this."

The redhead dumps her clippings into a trash can. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. You mind locking the door behind you? I don't want any more last-minute customers walking in."

The redhead raises her eyebrows, but gathers her purse and jacket and makes her escape as Sam settles into the brunette's chair.

“I'm Marianne," she says, as she starts to drape a cape over his shoulders.

“I'm Sam. But listen. I get too hot under those capes. Would it be okay if we skip it? And I just take my shirt off so I don't get hair all over it?"

Marianne smiles like the cat who caught the canary. "Not a problem, sweetheart."

Sam slips out of his dress shirt and drapes it over the empty chair next to him. Marianne watches him the whole time, eyes roving over the muscles exposed by his snug white undershirt. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.

He sits back in the chair and Marianne stands behind him. Her chest brushes against his shoulders. "So," she asks, "what are we doing today?"

“Shorter. Off my collar, above my ears."

She slips her fingers through his hair, measuring its length. "You sure? This length looks pretty good on you. Just needs to be cleaned up a bit."

“It's for a job. The long hair doesn't fly any more."

“Aw, that's a shame." Marianne's still running her fingers through his hair. "If you've got a lady in your life, I bet she'll miss it. A girl likes something to hold onto."

Well. The best lies are based on a kernel of truth. Sam looks into his lap and lets his smile go sad and soft. "That's kind of why I'm here. My girlfriend died and I thought I'd try to start over. New place, new job, new life. But yeah, that's always been one of my favorite things. A girl grabbing my hair in the heat of the moment. I should have tried to find someone to do that one more time before I had to cut it off."

Marianne leans forward, pressing her breasts harder against him. When he looks up, she meets his eyes in the mirror, then flicks a glance toward a door marked Employees Only. “You know," she says, "that could probably be arranged."

Seriously. Fish in a goddamn barrel.

. . .

Dean's awake when Sam gets back to the motel room, but he doesn't look up from the laptop. "Couldn't sleep?"

“I guess I napped a little in the car on the way down here," Sam lies. "And then, you know, a lot of caffeine this morning."

“Whatever. I'm not the sleep police. I hope you brought food, cause I could —" Dean looks at Sam and stops mid-sentence, mouth still open. "You cut your hair?"

“Yeah."

“Why?"

“What do you mean, why? Like old what's-his-face said, I looked like a hippie, not an FBI agent. And you've been telling me to cut it for years."

“Yeah, I have. I've been saying that for years and you've been ignoring me for years. Now some random witness calls you a hippie and you go running to Supercuts?"

Sam sighs. Dean may not be the sleep police, but he's awfully eager to step in as the hair police, enforcing his own set of laws about Sam's hair. "Why does it matter? You wanted me to cut it. Everyone wanted me to cut it. And I cut it. Can we move on now?"

It's a statement almost guaranteed to make Dean bow up in anger, but instead, he deflates. "It's just… nothing. Fine. Moving on." He closes the laptop and pulls his keys out of his coat pocket. "We've still got an hour or so before moonrise. I'm gonna go run through McDonald's. You want a chicken sandwich, or is that something else you're not interested in any more?"

Jesus Christ. This is what passes for moving on. But Sam needs that shower now, and none of this is worth arguing about.

(Few things are any more. That seems like it should matter.)

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks."

By the time Dean gets back, the sandwich is cold and the ice in Sam's drink is mostly melted. He pretends to enjoy it anyway.

. . .

Their drive back to the fairgrounds is quiet. Dean occasionally steals an unhappy glance at Sam's hair, but doesn't say anything. Sam ignores it.

They pull into the parking lot in front of the marked building. Without even getting out of the car, they can see that the runes have changed. The broad strokes are softly luminescent, glowing a pale blue in the moonlight.

“Okay, so that answers that question," Sam says. Thank God. Now they can leave without wandering around the grounds, soaking up the barnyard smell again. Wrap this up and start working on something more important. But Dean gets out of the car and looks at Sam expectantly. Well, crap. Sam dutifully follows him closer to the building and tries to think of how he would have felt about this development Before.

“Cool," he says. Dean narrows his eyes at him. "I mean, cool that our theory was right. Not, you know, cool that someone is using this kind of spellwork to make sure their pig wins a blue ribbon at the fair. That part's… pretty awful." But Dean's still looking at him funny, so he probably overcorrected on that one. It's just hard, any more.

Dean rubs the back of his neck as he examines the glowing runes. "If that's all they're doing, more power to them. I couldn't care less. But we need to make sure that's all they're doing. I mean, people died, Sam. We need to figure out if this is why." He pulls out his phone. "Gonna take some pictures to send Bobby." There's no reason to remind him they already have pictures. If Dean thinks additional pictures are more effective and efficient than "just like this, but glowing blue," that's up to him. Sam will most likely solve the damn case later tonight anyway, while Dean sleeps.

And he almost does. Dean knocks back a couple of glasses of whiskey when they get back to the motel, and falls asleep pretty soon after that. Sam doesn't bother to feign sleep — Dean doesn't seem to care, right now, whether his brother gets any sleep or not. But when Sam realizes his own photos missed a crucial corner of the building, he opens his brother's phone and finds his last text to Bobby. There's only one picture, and it's not glowing runes. It's him. Just a dark, slightly blurry picture of Sam, obviously taken earlier that night at the fairgrounds. And a text conversation.

See, I told you, it's short. I don't know what's going on. I swear he's just different.

Yeah, I get it. It's different. He's different. But what'd you expect? Of course he's not the same as he was. Hell changed him.

It didn't change me this much.

His Hell wasn't the same as yours. I know it didn't last very long, but remember, he was in the cage with the devil. We don't know what happened to him in there. Give him some time.

Well. Fuck. Dean's talking about him behind his back. Dean doesn't trust him. Dean thinks, once again, that something is wrong with him.

(That would have hurt, Before. Now it's just an annoyance. A distraction. Something to be dealt with.)

Yes, Hell changed him. Hell burned away all the crap, all the useless feelings, the guilt and shame and fear of failure. Hell purified him. Hell carved out the weakness and left nothing but pure, strong hunter. Dean, of all people, should appreciate the result. But Dean does not, and now Sam has to cater to his tiresome attachment to everything Sam was Before.

Fine. He can make that work.

Sam quietly puts Dean's phone back on the nightstand. He strips down to boxers and his t-shirt, sets an alarm, and crawls into bed. Pretending to sleep is tedious, but a couple of hours of boredom right now might spare him weeks of Dean's moodiness about him being different.

(As if Hell could leave you untouched. As if anyone in their right mind would expect that. As if Dean himself didn't know this first hand, for fuck's sake.)

. . .

Sam spends the next day focusing on acting the way he did Before. When his alarm goes off he stretches, yawns, and pretends he had a good night's sleep. He goes for a run, brings back coffee, showers quickly, and rolls his eyes when Dean makes a crack about him being able to spend less time in the shower now. At breakfast, he smiles at the (cute, definitely worth a bang) waitress, but doesn't flirt or even check her out as she walks away. He's figured out that Dean wants Sam to want to get laid (but not too much; he's definitely not supposed to want it as much as Dean wants it) but for some reason doesn't want him to actually get lucky. And he definitely would have gotten lucky. He spends the day looking empathetic, acting like this whole thing hasn't been a colossal waste of time. Like he cares about everything. About anything.

(God, it's exhausting.)

It turns out the deaths probably don't have anything to do with the witch at all. They return to the fairgrounds one last time, where Sam plants hex bags and paints runes on the corners of the building that will block the witch's simple spells - not that he cares whether the witch achieves anything or not, just on principle. His own runes are small and subtle enough that this novice witch (they must be a novice; no one with any experience would be naive enough to make their work so noticeable) won't even know they're in place. And if the witch escalates, well, that's not exactly Sam's problem.

When he's finished, he wipes his hands on his jeans and says "We should get Chinese for dinner. When's the last time you ate a vegetable?" Because monitoring everyone's vegetable intake is something he did Before.

They're finishing Chinese takeout in their motel room (beef with broccoli for Dean, eggplant in garlic sauce for Sam, because occasional bouts of vegetarianism were also a thing he did Before) when he catches Dean looking at his hair, very clearly wanting to say something.

So. It's go time.

Sam tries to make his eyes big and sad. The puppy dog look, Dean always called it. It was never intentional Before, but now he has to work at it. "Listen," he says. "I owe you an apology. I haven't been telling you the whole truth."

“No shit," Dean says. He's trying to sound nonchalant, but his body language screams that he's bracing for something. "So, spill it. What's your big confession?"

(That I don't care about any of this. This piddly little case. My hair. You. Nothing. And you can't imagine, Dean, you cannot even begin to imagine the incredible freedom of not caring. I wish you could, but you just can't.)

No, he can't say any of that. But the best lies are built on a kernel of truth.

Sam takes a deep, anxious breath and looks at Dean. No, wait. Look away. "You know, I told you I don't remember Hell. And I really don't. Not consciously, anyway. But when we were fighting those demons a couple of weeks ago, one of them grabbed me by the hair, and I felt something… it was a sense memory, I guess. It felt like Hell, for some reason. Like it was something that happened to me in Hell, someone grabbing my hair and pulling my head back and getting ready to cut my throat or… whatever."

He doesn't have to elaborate on whatever. Dean knows the whatevers of Hell better than anyone. He's probably dealing with a little sense memory of his own right now, of clutching someone's hair and pulling their head back in preparation for whatever. And now Sam does look at his brother, who is staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.

“Ever since then," Sam continues, "I just feel like I've been on the verge of remembering something. Something I don't want to remember. And I'm tired of worrying that I'm gonna have a Hell flashback every time I wash my hair."

Dean looks like he's going to vomit. Perfect.

“I'm sorry," Sam says. "It threw me, and I just didn't want to talk about it. But I shouldn't have kept it from you."

For a second, he's sure he has gone too far. Dean is going to say what's this bullshit, Sam, you would never apologize for something like that, so tell me what's really going on. But he doesn't. He stares at Sam for a minute, then looks away and wipes a hand down his face.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. You, ah. You good now? Is it working?"

Sam shrugs. "Hard to say. It hasn't been very long. But yeah, I feel a little more… stable, I guess."

And then it’s time to go for the kill.

Sam gives him the sad smile. (He never used to think of it as a sad smile; never used to think of it as anything at all. It was just what his face did. Every expression requires so much thought now.) "Listen. I know things are weird. I know I'm weird. Different. I know it's hard for you. If this is all more than you want to deal with right now, I understand."

Dean frowns. "What are you saying?"

“Just, I can go back with Samuel and his crew if you don't want to do this any more. You and me, I mean. No hard feelings, I promise."

Dean's face crumples. "What? No, fuck, no, Sam. I don't. You and me, we're good. I'm just getting used to things. That's all."

“Okay." Sam gives his best approximation of a grateful smile.

“So. Uh." Dean looks around the room nervously, like he's waiting for the other shoe to fall, then stands. "I think I'm gonna go get a drink. You wanna come with, or…"

Even if Sam believed Dean really wanted him to come along — and he doesn't; this is obviously Dean's way of retreating from a situation he doesn't want to think about — pretending to sleep when Dean's gone is one of the easier ways of making it look like he actually does sleep sometimes. "No. I'm beat," he says. "I think I'll just go to bed."

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." Dean takes his keys out of his pocket and anxiously tosses them in his hand. When he finally does turn to Sam, he looks at his hair, not his eyes. "Hey, you know, it does. It does look good on you."

Sam ducks his head shyly, like someone who's not used to praise. Who doesn't think he deserves it. "Thanks." When he looks up, Dean is already halfway out the door, putting as much space between himself and his little brother's hellscape as possible.

(Seriously. Fish in a fucking barrel.)

#my fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #soulless sam is my spirit animal #spn #season 6

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j-reau · 3 years

Text

a hiatus or something

I didn’t want to post this. I told myself to give it until morning and sleep but I’ve been laying here for over an hour and I can’t sleep and I know I’m not going to sleep until I get it out. And I decided I’m not going to do the pretend things don’t bother us mentality that tumblr likes, the don’t show emotions on the dashboard, don’t let people know you’re hurt or angry out of fear it’ll be seen as ~drama or whatever thing stop me from just saying how I feel. Because I feel pretty shitty? I’ve been feeling shitty for a few days now. Maybe more. Last week I told myself that the drama that had randomly cropped up was just too much and I wasn’t going to let tumblr be something that made me cry or panic or kept me up at night over bullshit like arguing with someone over things that happened years ago. So I set my focus on my friends, on my dashboard, on reminding myself why I love RP and why I’ve been in it for this many years, for so long, with all of these people. Those Valentines I posted were part of that project for me. It was a reminder, for myself and my dash about all of the human connection that happens here, all the people we meet, all the little pieces of each other we take on and take with us, all the ships, all the conversations, however brief. From the people we just see on our dash to the ones we talk to about all our fears and insecurities. And how all of it matters.

I know how much we all love to say calm down gregg, it’s tumblr RP. I know how we all loathe this hellsite when we’re being our worst. I know how we all talk about how we’re too old for this now or we’re tired. We’re just here to write. I’m just here to write. I love writing. But what brings us all back time and time again, what keeps us here is the fact that it’s not just tumblr RP. It’s a community. Whether you have a real life that keeps you busy or your whole life is here, whether you have plenty of friends offline or all your closes people live on discord, we’re all people. And we all take this with us. We make friendships and we talk to each other. We open ourselves up to the constant trust and fear of interaction, of plotting, of who is going to reach out or send the meme. We build friendships based on that, we care for each other, we see each other’s bad days on the dash, and great days and inspiration. And it means something. It may just be tumblr RP, but it matters to us. Because of the people here, because we give a fuck about each other. Or at least I’ve always liked to hope we do. I have friends on this website I’ve had for ten years, some just for 3, and others just a few months. It always floors me how we can always come back to it, how we stick with each other or don’t, how we see the good and the bad and the ugly.

So to get on with it, I wrote those Valentines. I hit refresh on my blog and put the weird random drama in the past and moved forward. I made this blog for JJ only about 3 months ago. I don’t know how I got 500 followers in that short time but I did. And it’s. been the wildest experience I can possibly explain, having that happen so quickly, finding so many people out in the RPC that I hadn’t before on my other blogs. I felt fucking good. I was excited. Not just to write a character I had wanted to and loved for years but to find so many people who I vibed with. I remember writing a post about a month in and being so fucking ... floored. By how much I loved you all, by how amazing it was to be received like that still, to find people my age and who wrote things I liked and loved their female characters. I fucking love JJ. I LOVE THE SHIT out of my partners on this blog, even the new people I’m still itching to write with. And yet, I did that little refresh, posted my valentines , got ready to go and felt .... sad.

I tried to explain it. I tried to tell myself it was a bad mood. I hoped maybe it was medication. But I couldn’t shake the weird funk. And everywhere I looked it seemed like things were .... not good. My friends taking breaks, people feeling sad too, relationships splitting, people I liked and respected separating themselves. Tonight, one of my closest friends I’ve made on this blog blocked me. Someone I adored and trusted and absolutely loved to write with. Tumblr says we’re not supposed to care. That we’re supposed to let people draw their lines in the sand and take their leave and maybe we are. Maybe it’s important to let people make their choices. But I also think it’s important as fuck to talk to your friends, to mean what you say when you tell someone they’re important to you. I think it’s important that we remember on the other side of every blog and discord user is a person. Who has bad days and bad feelings and cries and feels insecure and tells themselves it’s just tumblr RP even when they know somehow it feels heavier when it’s bad. This was a friend I had talked to at length about all of those exact things, about how personal the community can feel sometimes, about feeling replaceable or invisible, even for the toughest most confident most take no shit people. I’ve always considered myself a pretty tough, confident, take no shit person. I think anyone who has known me for as many years as I’ve been around has seen that first hand. I don’t like how sad I’ve felt lately. I don’t like the insecurity that’s making me want to know why things feel way or why people vanish without so much as an explanation. I had to block a mutual last week I saw making fun of me on their twitter. A mutual. Someone who chose to follow me and on a public place where my other friends could see it made fun of what I posted. And I just don’t know what we’re doing anymore. It didn’t bother me. I don’t have hurt feelings over it. That’s the kind of stuff I definitely know I’m confident about. But .... it did really fucking floor me. Because here we are, on a sight where users talk about positivity and not sending anon hate, and we can treat each other like that.

I’ve been sitting up in bed for hours trying to figure out what to say or what to do. That’s what I do I guess. I try to figure out what to do, how we fix it, like somehow there’s some unified we and some responsibility to make things better. A lot of you have only known me for a few months so this probably sounds all kinds of nuts. And you’re probably going JJ you’ve been an emotional mess since the moment we met you. Because I feel like that’s how it’s been for the last few months. But that’s not how it’s always been for me. That’s not who I am. So for now I guess I’m just trying to figure out what I do. Instead of sitting here and spinning and trying to figure out how we as a community fix these gaping holes and the way we talk about each other like we’re disposable and treat each other like names on a list instead of people.

For now, I think what I do is take a little break. It’s the very thing I don’t want to do. Because it feels like quitting and it feels like being scared away. So I feel the need to promise whoever has read all of this and myself that that’s not what it is. Maybe I’ll be back in two days, maybe two weeks, who knows. But I need a break. From whatever this feeling is that seems to have come over things lately. I’ve loved these few months on this blog so much. And maybe that’s half the problem. Maybe I got spoiled and this is the come down. Maybe I’m just an idiot who thinks what we all want on this website is to find people and love each other and write together. I never knew that me -- the person often accused of being aloof and feelingsless and distant would somehow turn into the emotional bitch on this website but here we are I guess. I just don’t know how to navigate this anymore. I don’t know how to put my heart into relationships and friendships that can just be switched off like we can just stop caring about people. I don’t know how to ignore people who say horrible things and do horrible things to each other just because we don’t want to see it on our dashes. I don't know how to give enough of everything to everyone so that every single one of my mutuals and partners knows they’re valuable to me. I don’t know what I hope to accomplish. I don’t know when I got to be so much of a raw, frayed edge on tumblr dot com but that’s how I feel. And I hope in a few days or sometime soon I’ll have an answer or at least get my hard shell back.

I want to keep writing. I want to keep talking to you guys. I don’t want to lose anyone. I truly mean what I say when I say you’re all important to me. I plan to still be around on discord. I’ll write on discord if anyone wants to keep writing. If we aren’t discord friends yet and you want to be, send a message. I plan to come back. I don’t want to abandon anything. I’m so deeply fucking sorry for this rant, for all the overflow of feelings lately, for anyone that’s had to listen to them, for putting them on your dashes, for fucking all of it. Please be good to each other. Please talk to each other. Please remember that if we’ve crossed paths at any point on this blog, I value you. I value all of your friendships, your writing, your shitposts, your dash commentary, your tiktoks you dump at me on discord. I love you. Every last fucking one of you.

#💛✌🏼💛✌🏼💛✌🏼💛✌🏼💛✌🏼✌🏼✌🏼💛#i am dead fucking serious please feel free to stay in touch i just #need my dash closed for a while #message me if you want my discord

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