#warning: this is unnecessarily long and I'm not entirely sure I have a point other than gnawing on feelings over these two

[incarnadinedreams]

This isn't really new or anything but the more I reread random passages the more convinced I am that there's something very unique about the way Jiang Cheng reacts to Wen Ning and it's just so interesting!

I'm convinced it's more than just being angry. It's more than just hating him, or blaming him for Jin Zixuan's death or his sister's life. It's more than being a Wen, and it comes long before so many of those tragedies unfold anyway.

There's a sort of urgent, visceral reaction to Wen Ning's presence that just has this different feeling to it than how he reacts to any of the other characters. Even characters he has strong emotional responses to, it's never with the same panic or recklessness. It's not the same as the whole "vengeful wrath, fathomless hatred, or raving ecstasy" situation he's got going on with Wei Wuxian (sexy as that might be).

When it's Wei Wuxian, it's all "...well, well. So you're back?" and "Haven't you got anything to say to me?" Even when he's not being very nice, even when he's throwing teacups and furious at Wei Wuxian, there's still an edge of calmness in the way he lashes out. He's fucking mad but he's had more than a decade to think about this and he's got things to say and he's trying so hard to get a reaction from Wei Wuxian that he just won't give him.

But he can't tolerate having Wen Ning anywhere near him. Much of the time he instantly lashes out, physically, in ways to create space between them. He's mean to Wen Ning, but he doesn't really have much to say to him; he just wants to get away from him.

It really stuck out to me how instinctive and instantaneous and emotional that reaction is when I was reading this passage from chapter 81 (ExR translation since I've got it on hand in digital text form), when Jin Ling returns Zidian and rushes back into the fray during the Second Siege:

When Jiang Cheng was unaware, he stuffed Zidian's ring back into his hand and sprinted toward the crowd, all the way up to the most dangerous area before the mouth of the cave. Jiang Cheng was about to chase after him when he managed to slice a few corpses, staggering. He felt that Sandu was no lighter than hundreds of pounds. Two female corpses threw themselves at him from both directions.

Jiang Cheng cursed. As he lifted his sword again, another pair of hands tore the two corpses into pieces, "Sect Leader..."

Jiang Cheng lost his temper as soon as he heard the voice. He kicked Wen Ning away and cursed, "Get the fuck away from me!"

Obviously that is not very nice and poor Wen Ning didn't deserve a kick for being legitimately helpful there, but the point is that not only does he lash out - the reaction happens even when he's clearly got higher priorities going on in a chaotic situation. Throughout that entire event he reacts in a somewhat more even-keeled way to almost everything except Wen Ning being in his vicinity.

And it's not just after Wen Ning's death, not just after he became Wei Wuxian's greatest weapon, not just after he was forced to kill Jin Zixuan - it's specifically a pattern established from the moment he woke up in the Supervisory Office without a core:

Before he could say anything, those sun robes reflected against Jiang Cheng's eyes. His pupils suddenly shrunk.

Jiang Cheng kicked Wen Ning, toppling over the bowl of medicine. The black liquid all spilled onto Wen Ning. Wei WuXian wanted to take the bowl of medicine. He pulled up Wen Ning as well, who had been shocked speechless. Jiang Cheng roared at him, "What's wrong with you?!"

At this point he doesn't even know how he was rescued, since he was unconscious for all of that, and thinks they're in a Wen trap and likely going to die (or worse). But there's so many echoes of that interaction again, and again, and again between them.

And combined with Wen Ning's remarks during the scene just before this, where he tells Wei Wuxian about the discipline whip injuries and how Jiang Cheng 'should have other injuries as well', the way the narrative is so deliberately ambiguous on what exactly occurred, it all makes me want to crawl up the walls and gnaw on the light fixtures wailing WHAT DID YOU SEE, WEN NING?! WHAT DID YOU SEE?

At a minimum, Jiang Cheng knows that Wen Ning was there at Lotus Pier prior to his capture by the Wen guards, because they'd both seen Wen Ning examining Jiang corpses on the training field before they fled for Meishan.

But everything after that is only implication and subtext and suppositions and speculation, not directly stated in the text. But based on his reaction, you can pry my headcanon from my cold dead hands that that Wen Ning probably witnessed all or much of what happened to Jiang Cheng after he was captured, and Jiang Cheng knows it.

I've also posted before how I think there's an at least nonzero chance that Jiang Cheng was never directly told that Wen Ning wasn't actually there with Wen Chao when they saw him early on, but came later to try to help (because when Wen Ning gives Wei Wuxian that information Jiang Cheng isn't conscious, and nobody tells Jiang Cheng anything. I don't think that headcanon changes much either way, but there is a slight difference, at least emotionally, between 'I helped you while I was there to slaughter your clan and destroy your life' and 'I came when I heard my crazy cousin was slaughtering your clan and tried to help you' and I think it's a juicy thing to add to the pile of misunderstandings they each have of the other's motivations and actions).

Which, if I go with these two ideas together, really drives home what a bespoke and specific nightmare the way the Golden Core reveal played out - not only the substance of the reveal, but the fact it was Wen Ning who revealed it.

He was already furious that they were even there at Lotus Pier, particularly Wen Ning. But the way it all happens it feels like it's not just echoes of the amplified emotions of the confrontation with Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian in the Ancestral Hall, it's not just Wen Ning being a Wen, or even Jin Zixuan's death, the way the narration calls out. It feels like there are deeper layers to it.

I also feel a bit stupid for not noticing before this probably extremely obvious to literally everyone else who isn't a dumbass like me parallel of Wen Ning getting a gruesome scorching whip mark across his chest at Lotus Pier in the course of saving Wei Wuxian (more or less, sort of - we know as readers Jiang Cheng was intentionally trying not to hurt them with Zidian, but I don't think Wen Ning knew that when he jumped in).

Jiang Cheng looked to find that the uninvited guest was Wen Ning. Immediately, he raged, "Who let you inside Lotus Pier?! How dare you!"

He could manage to tolerate others, but definitely not Wen Ning, the Wen-dog who put his hand through Jin ZiXuan's heart and ended both his sister's happiness and her life. Just a look, and he felt the urge to kill him right there. How dare he step foot on the earth of Lotus Pier—he really was looking for his death!

Because of the two lives and many other reasons, Wen Ning had always felt guilty, and so he'd always been somewhat scared of Jiang Cheng, consciously avoiding him all the time. Right now, however, he blocked Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi as he faced him, taking the hard lash. A gruesome scorch climbed across his chest, but still he didn't flinch.

I don't know that it actually means anything but it's making me FEEL THINGS incoherently at this specific moment, so. Also I find it legitimately sad that Wen Ning has to live with guilt over things that happened when he was controlled by someone else, though the scene before the Ancestral Hall when Jin Ling starts crying on the boat is probably a better example of that. Anyway.

It's just there's so, so many layers to how uniquely horrible it is for Jiang Cheng that he not only finds out about the Golden Core transfer this way, but also that Wen Ning, specifically, directly witnessed this life-shatteringly huge deception and sacrifice too - while Jiang Cheng was unconscious, no less.

And, well, we know how everything got capped off in that scene...

Obviously the shock of the information was going to get a huge reaction no matter what, no matter who or how he found out. Even without the Wen Ning element, it already hits every one of his deepest weaknesses and insecurities and fears.

But to come from the guy who'd witnessed his family being slaughtered, who'd witnessed who-knows-what humiliations heaped on him (who also happens to be the same fucking guy that Wei Wuxian thought it was worth leaving Yunmeng Jiang for, breaking his promise for...), the guy he blames for his sister's tragic fate (whether that blame is misplaced or not), the guy he exhibits a panic response towards even decades later, and goddamn.

There are just so many layers to this perfect little nightmare reveal on so many different levels aren't there?

There's just SO much meaty stuff for these two to dig into post-canon and all we get is an extra with a 'oh yeah sometimes Jiang Cheng yells on night hunts and Wen Ning is there' about it?!

I should probably just shut up and go read some Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning focused fics or something (whether romantic or platonic that's probably an area I really haven't explored enough vs. the amount of sheer interesting hints and material the novel gives to work with! If by some miracle anyone made it to the end of this beast feel free to drop any recs that explore them, especially that 'what did Wen Ning see?!' aspect of the whole situation because that is the current little brain worm haunting me right now).

#thinking too much about jiang cheng yet again #and wen ning too #the brainrot is back in full force #warning: this is unnecessarily long and I'm not entirely sure I have a point other than gnawing on feelings over these two #and either I'm stupidly reading too much into things or this is all super obvious and I'm dumb for pointing it out #the unbearable self-consciousness that comes with rambling about characters in books I guess

[flangore]

❥ my sweet, my darling

feat.: Alastor / f!reader

summary: Your loving husband makes sure to keep an eye on you at all times — for the sake of your safety, of course! His shadows help quite a bit with that.

warnings: mildly controlling Alastor (but in a sweet way....)

It's not often that you explicitly go against Alastor's wishes.

For one, that is because your goals and interests usually align either way; whether that's through fate or through Alastor's careful observations and plans is not for you to know. Secondly, you're well aware there's a good reason as to why he'd prefer to keep you out of the V's territory entirely; Vox seems eccentric and intimidating on a good day, and, from what you've heard, his obsession with your husband borders on insane. Neither of you doubt for even a second that he'd try and hurt or kidnap you just to get back at Alastor.

Today, however, you really can't help but make an exception. It's not your fault that the antique shop you heard of is located just past the outskirts of Alastor's part of town, and while this would usually mean that you'll simply go there together, stop by it during a walk, that just won't work, not when the necklace you've seen there is supposed to be a gift for him.

He's bought you plenty of jewellery before, both for special events such as Valentine's Day or your birthday, and simply just because a bracelet made him think of you, a ring fit well with your favourite dress, a hair accessory matched the shade of your eyes. It's safe to say Alastor spoils you profusely, and the urge to do the same for him is overwhelming.

You're determined, certainly — and yet, your throat suddenly feels tight when you eye the street in front of you, various posters and LED signs promoting the V's, naked bodies displayed in every storefront's window.

This isn't your kind of area, really. While you're not a prude per se, you're already not looking forward to other sinners coming up to talk to you, hands touching you unnecessarily much, tones sultry purrs.

It's for Alastor's sake, though. You're fine with some pushy demons approaching you as long as you keep your goal in mind; and seeing him smile with true surprise and joy was going to be worth it a thousand times. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself, taking one last look at the ominous sign, proudly claiming to have the wettest holes in all of Pride, you have been hiding behind.

It turns out your concerns are entirely unnecessary.

The very moment you step into the small alleyway, cringing instinctively in order to avoid drawing attention to yourself, shadow coils around your ankles, and a split second later you're back where you started, once more looking at the advertisement.

What?

Brows creasing, you move forward again; sure enough, you don't get further than a few metres before you're magically teleported behind the territory's border again. This is odd.

Two more attempts don't cut it, either. At this point, you're huffing, arms crossed in front of your chest, eyes narrowed unhappily, though, just as you raise your foot again, stubborn, the air around you shifts.

“It appears you're lost, dear.” Alastor's voice, sounding from behind you, tinged with amusement, really shouldn't make you flinch anymore, and yet you can't help but jump at his sudden materialisation, shadows curling around his limbs before finally fading into nothingness. “One would almost think you're doing it on purpose.”

“Goodness, you scared me”, you choke out, heart beating erratically against your ribcage. “I'm doing what on purpose?”

“Why, attempting to leave safe grounds, obviously.”

Ah. Right. Instinctively, you push your lips forward, hands now on your hips. You can't even deny any accusations. “Well”, you say, hesitating for a moment or three, “I was.”

Alastor leans forward, weight supported on his cane, eyebrows raised. “Is that so? I can only wonder why you'd endanger yourself this eagerly, darling.”

“That's a secret.”

“A secret?” His eyes sparkle, red glowing in the low light. “Colour me intrigued.”

“Well, I won't tell you.” You scoff. “Besides, I really doubt anything would have happened to me.”

“Is that so?” Alastor laughs, the noise so sharp that the contrast between it and the fondness in his gaze is startling. “Have you seen yourself, sweetheart? There were three men in the past five minutes alone, circling around you like vultures.”

The sudden use of the past tense makes you pause; you don't even bother to turn around and look for them, knowing you won't find anything that's left.

“Oh.”

“Yes, indeedy! Now, let's get you home, shall we?” Arms now linked together, Alastor is quick to lead you away from neon signs and bright LEDs; the one time you're about to be approached by a guy, seemingly blind to danger, to the reputation of the Radio Demon, his ears twitch backwards, the sound of his staff repeatedly hitting the ground the noise you decide to focus on instead of the quickly silenced screams.

It's quiet afterwards. Usually, you're able to enjoy the comfortable silence Alastor and you often settle in, proof of familiarity, though this time guilt gnaws at you, urging you to explain yourself, to prove that you didn't go against one of the few boundaries he has set without any important reason at all.

You'd hate for him to think that you don't take his concerns for you seriously. Your throat feels tight.

“I wanted to buy something for you.” The words leave your mouth quietly, though they catch his immediate interest nonetheless, scarlet gaze now focusing on your eyes, cast downwards. Still, he doesn't respond, prompting you to elaborate. “A necklace. I—, well. I thought it'd suit you.” The continued silence makes your chest ache. “You always buy me gifts that I absolutely adore; I merely wanted to do the same for you.”

Both of you come to a halt. A single claw moves underneath your chin, gently tipping it up. “I appreciate the effort, darling. Still, your safety is much more important to me than any surprise.” The warmed leather of his glove sends a shiver down your spine. “How about we go and take a look at it tomorrow, yes? I do promise to keep my eyes averted until after you've purchased it. Sound fair?”

That's not the point of a surprise gift. Nonetheless, your lips split into a toothy smile as you nod. “I'd love that.”

“Lovely! For now, I'm starved! How about I cook for us once we're back at the Hotel? What are you in the mood for, darling?”

i cannot tell you how huge the urge to write a long multichapter fic for him is....

#❥ alastor #❥ my writing #Hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Hazbin hotel fanfic #Hazbin hotel imagines #Alastor x reader #Alastor headcanons #Alastor imagines #Alastor x you #Alastor fanfic #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin x you #Hazbin imagines #Hazbin headcanons #Hazbin Hotel x you #Hazbin Hotel x y/n #Alastor x y/n #alastor fanfiction #Alastor fluff #Hazbin fluff #Hazbin Hotel fluff #Alastor #Alastor Hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel

[instantartific]

I've been wanting to write this whole character analysis on Nova, but every time I try, I really can't find a way to put it into words.

So I think this deranged rambling that jumps back and forth between screenshots and written text of what's there I went into with a friend sums it up perfectly.

There's a cut because this gets so unnecessarily long, and there should be a mild warning for vague reference to suicide and general frank talk of his poor mental health.

♡

I'M AT A POINT WHERE I'M TOO EMOTIONAL TO BE ELOQUENT SO I'M JUST LOSING MY MIND IN SHORT BURSTS.

ALL I CAN WORD RIGHT NOW IS THAT THERE IS NO WAY THAT MAN HAS THE MENTAL ELASTICITY AND SUCH WARPED WORLDVIEW OF A CHILD AT HIS AGE IF HE DOESN'T HAVE SOMETHING FUCKED UP WITH HIM.

HE CLINGS ONTO A COMPLETELY IRRATIONAL BELIEF THAT MAKES NO GODDAMN FUCKING SENSE WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT FOR LONG ENOUGH.

HE THREW AWAY A PRETTY GOOD LIFE THAT HE HAD IN ORDER TO PRODUCE MUSIC, ON A FUCKING DROP OF A HAT MIND YOU, JUST BECAUSE HE HAPPENED TO FIND HIS OLD TURNTABLES, AND THEN DECIDED THAT HE WOULD SPEND THE REST OF HIS TIME AND FOCUS INDEFINITELY TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO MAKE HIS MUSIC IMMORTAL.

EVEN THEN, HIS OWN WANTS AND MOTIVATIONS CONTRADICT THEMSELVES VERY CLEARLY.

HE GOES ON BOASTING ABOUT HOW HE'S BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE, BUT HE'S SO FUCKING IRRATIONAL.

EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM IS COMPLETELY BATSHIT CRAZY WHEN YOU LOOK AT IT.

-

I am sitting like one of his students at a lecture listening intently.

THAT BRINGS UP ANOTHER POINT!!!

EVEN THE WAY THAT HE TREATS OTHER PEOPLE IS BATSHIT INSANE.

THE ONLY PEOPLE HE REALLY SEEMS TO PLACE VALUE IN ARE THOSE THAT HE'S PERSONALLY IMPRESSED BY.

EVERYONE ELSE IS JUST TREATED LIKE SHIT.

HIS WHOLE GOALS AND MOTIVATIONS ARE SURROUNDING THE CONCEPT OF MAKING HIS WONDERFUL MUSIC IMMORTAL, BUT THEN HE TREATS THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE HIS MUSIC TERRIBLY?????

HE NEGLECTS THE CITY HE'S SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR AND DOESN'T GIVE A DAMN IF THE PEOPLE IN HIS DISTRICT, THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE WHAT HE CREATES, ARE HAPPY OR NOT???????????

HE DOESN'T SEEM TO GIVE A FUCK IF HE'S LIKED, JUST THAT HE'S KNOWN, WHICH IS...

FUCKING SAD, HONESTLY!

VERY FUCKING SAD!

ALL OF IT AMOUNTS TO JUST WANTING TO BE KNOWN, AND IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT MEANS HE IS!

BUT IT WOULD JUST BE NICE IF IT WAS FOR A GOOD REASON.

EVEN THE MERE FACT THAT HE SENDS HIS SHIT OUT INTO FUCKING SPACE IS INSANITY.

WHO'S GONNA FUCKING HEAR IT?

WHO?

WHO IS GOING TO LISTEN YOUR MUSIC IN THE VACUUM OF FUCKING SPACE?,????

HOW WILL YOU KNOW THAT YOU WERE HEARD?

YOU WON'T.

AND THAT'S THE FUCKING THING!

HE DOESN'T CARE IF ANYONE LISTENS.

THEY SHOULD, BUT HE COULDN'T GIVE LESS OF A DAMN IF THEY DO.

WHAT HE GIVES A DAMN ABOUT IS IF THEY HEAR IT, THAT'S ALL.

THAT'S THE ONLY THING HE WANTS, FOR THEM TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT IT IS THERE.

ACKNOWLEDGE THAT IT EXISTS.

HE WANTS TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED THAT HE EXISTS FOR ALL OF ETERNITY.

I AM GOING FUCKING INSANE.

-

I CANNOT.

I'VE HIT A POINT IN WHICH I CANNOT FUCKING ELABORATE ANY FURTHER.

JUST.

HIS ENTIRE PURPOSE IS TO MAKE SURE OTHERS KNOW HE EXISTED, FOR ALL OF ETERNITY.

AND ONCE HE'S FINALLY SATISFIED, HE'LL ALLOW HIMSELF TO DIE.

BUT THAT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!

THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN!

THE OLDER HE GETS, THE MORE PARANOID HE'LL GET!

THE MORE GENUINELY TERRIFIED THAT HE HADN'T DONE ENOUGH HE'LL GET!

HE'LL NEVER BE SATISFIED UNTIL HE WORKS HIMSELF TO OBLIVION AND DIES IN THE VERY THING HE STRIVED TO PREVENT HAPPENING.

I AM CLEARLY ELABORATING AFTER I JUST SAID THAT I CAN'T BUT ??????

TL;DR:

#i might sit down and actually put this into more pretty sounding words but this does it more justice than anything #i have so much to say about this man that i didn't even put here #he needs therapy. so bad. #anyways this is thinly veiled 'nova has npd' propoganda. #no straight roads #dj subatomic supernova #djss #nsr djss #ও musings

[goofyhoffy]

known stranger | jjk | Chapter 1

people say your bestfriend's rival is your rival too. But what if you fall for your rival.

✿ Pairing :  Jungkook × female reader, Jimin × best friend reader

✿ Genre : enemies to lovers, stranger au, personal assistant au, manager au, mutual au.

✿ Summary : always seen him around your mutual friend, but one day you  noticed the known face. Everyone find you so interesting that they always want to be your best friend, yet you never find anyone close to your heart. Jimin your so called bestfriend gone through the worse break up but instead of caring him you fall for his rival. You never thought of liking someone who would beat your bestfriend, but you fall for Jungkook there. Unfortunately, Jungkook became your personal assistant who hated you the most for supporting Jimin. What if Jungkook also wants you back?

✿ Warnings : fluff, strong languages, reader is a psychopath, angst, anxiety, anxiousness, double faced, bullying, overthinking, mean people, Jimin here is the meanest, ignoring, explicit, smut, fake friends, manager and personal assistant au, mutual friend, swearing, filled with flirty lines, rival, lovey dovey, break up, makeout, humiliation, oneshot, texting.

✿ Series : a drabble fanfiction of 3 sets

✿ Word Limit : 5 k+

MASTERLIST

✿ Author's note : wishing you many happy returns of the day, kook. I thought of making this fanfic a oneshot but my mind never cooperates with me. So, here I'm again with my drabble series. Read it and let me know if you liked it. To get add on taglist, send an ask.

(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)

"See, I changed your contact name to 'Bestie' , it's looking perfect dude." Jimin rejoiced. You just gladly looked at his phone screen with your two owl eyes. "Now, you also need to change my contact name in your phone to 'bestie'. Do it fast, I'm waiting, piggy."  Jimin said happily.

"Ya, I'll do it later some day." You weirdly smiled at him. It's always been like that. Jimin being too clingy, always said that you're his best friend, his own girl, whom he adores the most. But somewhere you never felt that. You never denied him of being your friend or you can say your best friend but you always hesitated to accept. You never called him sweetly, never even seen him like your bestfriend but something less than that. A vibe just didn't match with him. Yet, he was always the one who texted you, asked for hanging out, call you by pet names, always loved you, always treat you like his bestfriend. You never showed this emotions neither you did denied all that .

"You always do this things. You know, you're always first for me. First priority,____(y/n)." Jimin sighed.

"Ya, always first. But-" you got intreuppted by him.

This Areum gonna kill me one day. This girl already broke up with me but still cling to me." Jimin said while checking his phone. Few weeks ago, Jimin had a worst broke up. More likely, a betrayal kinda thing happened with him. Before that he was so happy, bright and always busy with his girlfriend. And never ever asked you how were you back then. There you got it, how really a toxic person he was. That's why, you never wanted to call him your special person. Cause after every break up he only comes to you. And during his relationship phase he never even asked you nor did he talk to you. A complete stranger basically.

" Why don't you just ignore her. Block her if she's distrubing you so much." You said.

"I did, but still. Well, she's only for fun. She also have fun making out with me and I do the same. So no problem." Jimin chuckled.

"Also fun when she calls his boyfriend and his friends to beat you up as you're assign of molesting her." You rolled your eyes.

"____, you clearly know that. You have seen that. She was the first who directed me to kiss her , touch her and everything. But later that bitch just called her bodyguard boyfriend to help her out. It's only a strategy for breaking up with me." Jimin sighed.

"Then, why did you do the same thing again Jimin? Just leave her. It really feel bad to see your friend suffering." You asked.

"Bestfriend not friend." Jimin corrected.

"Whatever. Do you want to have red stamps on your ass again?" You sighed.

"No, but I can't. That time I was so mad at Areum so I didn't do any harm to her boyfriend. Unless I would have kicked him in nuts." Jimin giggled.

"Everything is not a joke, Jimin." You rolled your eyes as you left for your daily shift.

◉

You got freahen up after a hectic day at your work. After taking good hot shower, you sat on your bed and checked your phone. You glared at how many messages Jimin had sent you to ask about your day, your mood, what's you're doing and stuff like that. You completely ignored it. Sometimes you feel that, the boy put so much of his time on you just to get some friendly love from you. But at the second thought, you imagine all those moments when he ignored you, your texts, your calls for hours and days just because he don't need you.

At last you saw the flooded messages at the new group chat you got added. You don't have enough patience to read what the group chat was about and who were the members. So, you directly called the one who added you.

It's Bora, who added you. Your long lost another best friend. Who also treated you like her best friend but you never like being her friend. But you felt so glad that someone still remembered you. You called her.

"Hello!"  You nervously chuckled.

"____, I missed you bub. Don't you missed me sweets?" Bora excitedly asked.

"Sure. I-I mean I did. A lot. Bora." You weirdly smiled

"Then you're definitely coming to the Mall? Don't you?" Bora asked.

"Mall? About what?" You asked.

"I added you to the gc dude. Checked that. Everyone is coming. Please you also need to come. I have many things to talk about you." Bora pleased.

"I saw that, that's why I called you. Cool idea! Definitely gonna come Bora." You said.

"Call me sunshine. Okayy, tomorrow at eight at evening near the south mall. Don't be late. We all will be there." Bora said happily.

"Sure sunshine. I'll be there promise. Good night. Meet you tomorrow." You said cheerfully.

You're kinda excited to meet your old goldies. Not to lie but you missed them so much. All the shit they talk, crazyness they do and everything about them is all you need right now. You missed Bora in real. Like, in days she was so toxic that gives you anxiety unnecessarily but still she missed you. You always love the person who mentioned you anywhere unless or untill it's Jimin.

At the Mall, you're already late to go their after your hectic schedule. But still you're not late as it's only nine and they asked you to be their till eight. But you always a late lateefa. More like a queen for whom everyone waits. You saw Bora, and ran cheerfully towards her.

"Sunshine!" You sang.

"_____, again late." Bora exclaimed arrogantly.

"Really sorry Bora. Tell me if I missed anything." You asked.

"Everything. Legit everything." Bora said.

"Why? I'll cry dude." You sighed

"Everyone already gone for movie. I'm just here to wait for you girl. Thank me." Bora rolled her eyes

"Then let's go for the movie. We can join the movie." You cheerfully smiled.

"Wait. I didn't call you here to hangout with you. I need to tell you many things." Bora said.

"Then whom we're waiting for. Let's have some goosip coffee, Sunshine." You chuckled as both of you just walked upto the near counter coffee shop. There you sat the same place you used to and have endless laughter.

She explained how she's going to marry the man of her dreams. Tells you everything about what happening in every one's life and their love life. During your old days to, Bora was the one who tells you all the goosip and love life of others. She was so much interested in other life than her own. Unfortunately you were always the one who used to hear all those boring goosips. You were never interested, neither you are now interested.

As the weather is getting happier the dark clouds surrounds the mood. You saw Areum and his Boyfriend Seokjin was also there at the mall. They're strolling down the Mall with grabbing eachother hands. They looked so happy. But you felt so bad for his boyfriend Seokjin. He never knew the actual face of Areum. You have seen after Jimin's break up also, she used to make out with him. Jimin share each and everything about that. How she bite his upper lip so much and how she was acting that everything was good and still were together. Jimin was an actual fool and you knew that. He didn't understand that, the thing which he was telling fun and gain is actually the entire opposite. Areum was all having fun with her new rich boyfriend and having a good physical life with Jimin. But here Jimin was always so sad because of her. She's an actual bitch  and act like an innocent fool.

"Bora, this is the girl I'm talking about." You pointed at Areum indirectly.

"She was Jimin's girlfriend? Ew. I always know he had a bad taste." Bora said.

"See the boy beside her, he's her new boyfriend. A total bitch." You fumed. As both of you sitting at the corner of the coffee cafe looking at them and goosiping.

"That's Seokjin. Lord." Bora yelled.

"You know him?" You asked.

"For sure. He's the friend of Jungkook. That boy is way too flirt." She giggled.

"Jungkook? You mean that boy?" You asked.

"Ya, remember during the high school party I invited him. You met him quite a few time, ____" she said.

"Wait. There's a  Long story about him also dude. Let me finish." You chuckled as you sipped your cold brew.

You explained her how during the break up of Jimin and Areum, she called her new boyfriend. With his new boyfriend there was Jungkook there to threaten Jimin. You had witnessed all the threatening Jungkook given. The way he said 'back off your little ass' , 'fuck another girlfriend, leave Areum' , 'seokjin is like my brother, if anything happens to her girl I won't leave you". All his aggression, confidence in his eyes and a way of firece. Not to mention you liked it.

All this years, you have seen Jungkook. You have seen him in the partis, malls and streets. But after he threatened your bestfriend, you kind of liked him. After that you noticed him in real. How he was flexing his arms while talking to Jimin, how he was rolling his eyes, how he was just standing there looking immensely handsome. With the white t-shirt on and cargo pants, he was looking handsome. That's the first time you actually noticed him.

You really felt bad for Jimin that all the boys get over him. But a certain part of your giggling to recalling all the moment of Jungkook. You never talked to him, neither he took an interest on you. You both were just a known stranger to each other. Known by the faces and stranger by the identity.

At the end of the meet and greet day, you were on your way to outside. Bora was with you. You both were laughing. You met with other old friends too after so long. You took some good memories photo and you felt so good at the end.

"Bora! Hey!" Someone shouted at Bora who was standing beside you at the exit of the mall. She looked back and realized it's Jungkook.

"Hey, Kook. You're here." She giggled.

"Come here with Seokjin. You too here?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah, with _____(y/n). Meet my bestu." She pointed at you.

"I see." Jungkook just rolled his eyes on you. It's completely like ignoring you. You also completely just looked at your phone to cut off eye contact. It was like ignoring both of their conversation.

You know why he always looked so uninterested on you. After Jimin's broke up, you took Jimin's side and then all those so called cold war started. He absolutely hate you because you opposed him and supported your friend. But you know you were correct. But that never mean that you could not have a crush on him.

His dark hairs falling at his eyes with the little puppy eyes look immensely fierce. His everything is quite recognisable and you remembered each of the detailed about him. But always a guilt that you never spoke to him. You wanted to but his expression kills your inner whore.

"Then spend time with Seokjin. Meet me soon." Bora said.

"Cool. You also spend time with your bestu. I'll meet you soon." Jungkook greeted as he left both of you alone. He gave you a scary look before leaving which you clearly noticed but rolled your eyes.

◉

You entered at your work place. That day you had a lot of work to do. So, you piled up all the papers needed for the work. Basically, you were working as a manager in a hotel as you want to have enough money to publish your book. You work daily so hard to accomplish all your dreams to be a writer. Being a manager you saved enough for your book and have enough to spend the rest on your own. Your work was always way to comfortable for you.

"Good Morning,____." Your boss entered at your work place and greeted you.

"Good morning boss. Do you need something?" You asked.

"I want you to meet someone. Kook! Come in." He shouted to call someone. As he called, a guy entered in the room and it's none other than Jungkook itself.

"Meet Jungkook. From now onwards he will assist you. Your personal assistant." He said.

"Dad! I'm not anyone's assistant here. I'm not doing this thing." Jungkook barked angrily.

"You have to think about that before the car accident. To be more sincere, you have to work as an assistant until or unless I'm sure you can do something on your own." Your boss hissed. You never knew that Jung kook was son of your boss. Your boss looked quite young for a big boy like Jungkook. And never did Jungkook had been in this five star hotel you worked at. You were quite shocked while giggling inside that he had to assist you. That's mean proper supremacy.

"But dad -" Jungkook been cut off by him.

"Meet _____(y/n). I really want you to work with her. She's sincere as well as profound at her work. I think you will be a good Manager -  assistant thing." You boss said. As he mentioned your name , Jungkook looks at you. He was as stun as you.

"Thanks Boss. Hello Mr. Jeon Jungkook." You greeted and try to be as professional as you want to stop him from invading in your personal life.

"Now, you both can start your work. I'm leaving." You boss said as he left your work place leaving you and Jungkook alone.

For few minutes it was like a dread silence. Only your computer making the typing sound. You don't know how to start a conversation. The only thing you know was that you should be professional with him. No perosnal talks. Only see him as your assistant or more like your boss's son. Jungkook was there right behind you still astonished and don't know from where to start. He was already feeling so sad about being someone's assistant but it made worse after realising it's you. You were his manager. Internally he hated you, but you liked him. You know he hated so much. But neither you had talked to him nor he talked to you. It was an internal war of friendship. Because both of your mutual friends were rivals. So, you both also knew you have to be each other rivals too.

"You work here?" Jungkook smirked.

"Yes, Mr. Jeon. As you're my assistant now, I'll teach what you have to do." You weirdly smiled.

"I'm not your assistant first of all. It's for my dad sake. Or I would never have to work here." Jungkook arrogantly said.

"It's okay Mr. Jeon. But I have to abide by my boss rules." You said.

"What's with Mr. Jeon? Don't you know me?" Jungkook asked smirkingly.

"Do I?" You asked.

"Dude, you're Bora's as well as Jimin's bestfriend. I clearly have seen you hundreds of times. Don't deny that you never have seen me." Jungkook smirked.

"Sorry, Mr. Jeon. But I'm at my work place. No perosnal talks please." You hesitantly said. You felt like a large piece of stone got off from your heart. You never want to talk to him about your personal matters or it would go real wrong.

"Stop calling me Mr. Jeon for God sake. Call me Jungkook." He ranted.

"Okay, Mr. Jungkook. Anything you like." You said.

" God! You're so annoying dude. No more formalities please. Jungkook only." Jungkook yelled at you. You know how to annoy people. You were just testing his patience and as expected he was way more patienceless than you have thought.

"Okay Jungkook. Call me _____(y/n) then." You smirked.

"Whatever." Jungkook rolled his eyes as he sits at the table.

He was on his phone through out you were working. You thought of giving him some work. But the way he was sitting, getting annoyed by you and those priceless smiles across his face whenever he was playing in his phone. You can't deny but you want to admire him all day long. You and Jungkook was all alone in the room. No one was there. You were working on your files and peeping at him when he was not looking at you.

"Dude, give me some work or something. I'm getting bored." Jungkook sighed as he put his phone aside and looked at you.

"I thought you don't want to work! But sure, being your manager I'll give some work to do." You proudly said.

"Only for my dad. And also I'm bored so thought doing something with you." Jungkook said.

"Something with me?" You asked. Your sarcasm is way too knowledgeable to your friends. How you turn simple things to some random jokes.

"I-I mean some work with you." Jungkook stumbled.

You told him everything he have to do. All the rules and regulations he had to follow. But at all your words he just rolled his eyes. That kind of annoying to you and you want to beat the shit out of him. But you can be a bigger annoyance than him. And you decide to be one. As Jungkook would never find you interesting or beautiful but you would force him to do so.

After the work, when you finished all your daily work and wrote down all the things you have to do tomorrow on your diary. You were ready to go to your home and work in your book and have some delicious coffee.

"Jungkook now you're good to go. See you tomorrow." You greeted him with a smile.

"So, now what are you gonna do?" Jungkook asked.

"We did all the work today so early. So, now you can go home and so do I." You said.

"Go home! Don't you have anywhere to go? Hangout or parties?" Jungkook chuckled devilishly.

"I prefer home Jungkook. Meet you tomorrow." You said and you're on your way to exit.

"Wait ____. I'm trying to start a conversation. And you're only ignoring me." Jungkook yelled.

"I'm not ignoring. It's just I have pile of work to do." You laughed

"So, if your professional life ended can we talk about your personal life?" Jungkook asked jokingly.

"No. I don't want to." You said as you left the venue for your home. Jungkook was standing there all astonished that why you react like that. Thinks if he asked you something wrong.

As soon as you reached home, you got a text from an unknown number.

You're internally giggling and smirking that it was not you who texted first but it was him. You were happy that finally you got his number. But still you don't want to show that you liked him or anything. You just want to be professional with him so that he'll beg you to talk to him. You're way too annoying and you want to show that to him. You now just want to go tomorrow and annoy him more and more.

◉

"You did well today. You should be proud of yourself!" You smiled at him.

"I'm always proud of myself. Well, now home?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah, let me just get my things and we'll be good to go." You said as you packed your bag up.

There Jungkook standing looking at you and your curves. He was really so rude to you at first but now he was cooperating with you. He does everything you told him and obediently he did that. As you were busy packing your things. He grabbed your diary across the table to hand over to you.

But before that he looked through the pages of the diary. First few pages, you marked all your day to day plan. Yet as he turn the pages over he looked the brief description you have pointed about everyone. This was something you do whenever you find someone interesting. You always note down their physical and behavioural characteristics about them. Because in a thought that maybe it'll help you in the near future on your books. You always make your books character with attachment of the real people existed. It's kind of a thing you really like.

"His deep ocean eyes when he looked at his rival. For me it his dark hairs which he glides with his veiny hands." Jungkook louldy sang. As you didn't noticed that Jungkook already have your diary and you're looking for it. But those lines he sang just clicked your mind.

"Jungkook! What the hell? Give me my diary." You shouted at him and punched his arms.

"Dude, I'm giving. Wait, let me read some more." Jungkook chuckled devilishly.

"Give me or I'll leave." You rolled your eyes. As he gave the diary back to you. You look at the pages he turn over and generously you looked at it. Properly examining if he fold any of the pages.

"It's okay. I didn't eat your pages." He rolled his eyes.

"I'll check that up." You arrogantly said as you pick your bag up and left for home.

The lines Jungkook read loudly was actually about him. You have written everything about him which you find interesting. You don't want to reveal your secret that you liked him. But you just wished that he didn't read his name there.

As soon as you went home, you got Jungkook's text. It's now kind of become a routine for you to get text from him at night. The whole day you just spend with him and at night we wished you 'sleep well' to end the day. You can't thank your boss enough for him. He's rude but kind. You're annoying but sweet.

"Today we don't have many work Jungkook. You can take a leave today. " You said as you pile up the papers.

"It's okay, I'll help you." Jungkook nonchantly said.

"Well, I also don't have work. So, I'm leaving already." You chuckled.

"It's only afternoon dude." Jungkook sighed

"So? You're so enthusiastic to work, huh?" You asked.

"For you." Jungkook sighed under his breath.

"Wait. You're free now? Any plans for evening?" He asked.

"No I guess. Will eat and watch something so far." You excitedly said.

"Let's hangout?" Jungkook smirked

"Huh? With whom?" You dumbly asked.

"With me of course dude. You and me. I never have talked to you in person. You always so professional." Jungkook giggled

"Umm... I might be - " you got intreuppted by him.

"Please don't say no. I also want to know why every one wants you be there bestfriend." Jungkook pleased. You really want to go at the first go but you want him to plead to you. And he did, and you accepted that.

"Okay then but home by night." You smiled. 

He accepted and asked you to wait for him till he take his car at the front. You waited for him at the main door. But you saw he forget his phone at the table. And repeatedly his phone just lights up as there were messages flooded on his phone. You decided to peep into it. Your inner detective rises as you checked his phone. You know it's wrong to check anyone's personal thing but he also did first with your diary. You looked at the top messages, it's filled with many flirty girls texts, some work related texts and lastly Seokjin text which popped up as soon as you open it.

Your inner self was burning right then. You thought Jungkook was not like that but you were wrong. He was like that, a total rude brat. But before you he acts like all sweet and flirty. Yet he was totally the different personality in real. He still thinks of you as a ugly and rival person. You can't process what did he mean by 'I'll fuck a pig than you'. You were keep repeating the lines in your head. The more you imagine it, the more your blood was boiling for him. He was traitor or a chameleon who only knows how to changes colour. You can guess how he thinks about you. He only thinks about you as a ugly, little and fatty bestfriend of his rival. You just want to see him and kick him so hard and want to know why he acts like he actually interested in you.

You were already been worse , you don't want anymore to get worst. You only need to go home and drift in your blanket and sleep till you forget that Jungkook is okay to fuck a pig but not you.

You left for your home without greeting Jungkook a bye. You don't want to hangout with him anymore. You now just want him to beg you to fuck him. You're a total psychopath for this. Your ego is far more bigger than anything in this world. Either he should beg you to fuck him or you never will see his face. You know your ways how to do that. As you think, Jungkook already called you to enquire why did you left after promising for hanging out. But you declined the call. He texted you over hundreds time to know what's wrong with you. But neither you did answer. You were completely ignoring him.

The past days you just ignored him, his texts and calls everything. Everytime he comes to talk to you at interval you just passed him. If comes to ask you something you directed him to the other managers. Even ones he asked you why you were acting so differently and ignoring him. But you straight up rolled your eyes on him. He got so annoyed by your actions. He only wants to know if he made some mistakes. But more than the mistakes you feel that it's a double game. He only wants to insult you and nothing else. You also know it's better to stay away from double faced people.

You were at your workplace constantly ignoring Jungkook. You never pick any personal calls during your work. But as it's lunch time and Jimin was calling you, being a good bestfriend you picked it up.

"Bestie! You're at work?" Jimin asked through the phone.

"Umm.. yeah. Anything?" You said.

"Today, I prepared dinner for you. Specially for you. Please come over at my place." Jimin said.

"Ahhh! Jimin! Tonight I can't. There's a lot of undone work." You ranted.

"You always say this things. Shut up, you have to. Else I will pick you up. Okay?" Jimin asked smiling.

"No need to come here. I'll come, it'll be late." You sighed.

"Great bae. Love you always." Jimin sang.

"Meet you tonight. Bye." You said.

"Say it back, piggy." Jimin shouted.

"Ahhhh love you Jimin! Bye." You also sang the same way he did and declined the call. You were already tired and again you have to go there.

Someone was there to noticed all the things you were doing, it's Jungkook. He heard all the talks with Jimin. Heard the way you have a plan tonight with Jimin, the way you sang love you to Jimin and the way you were giggling all the time talking to Jimin and not him. His inner spirit boiled to know you were again talking to that little brat who was his rival and he got jealous that you never hangout with him but you at once get ready to hangout with Jimin. He couldn't sit with his inner boiling ego. He need to ask you what happened, why did you hangout with Jimin and many other questions which a boyfriend need to ask his girlfriend. Time by time there was some sudden urge which keep him engaged with you. It  could be your personality, your way of showing emotions and everything you do. He also fall for you but still didn't know it.

Jungkook just entered the room where you were working and shut the door arrogantly. You were amazed what he just did but without caring much you did your work.

"Working, huh?" He asked. You just nodded a yes.

"Free tonight? Thinking of taking you to any restaurant." Jungkook smirked.

"Busy tonight. Hope you will understand." You rolled your eyes.

"Busy tonight with your boyfriend Jimin, huh?" Jungkook chuckled devilishly. Your eyes just burned to hear that. You frowned.

"Sry, my mistake. I mean your so called best friend Jimin." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"Jungkook, mind your own business." You shouted. He walk up to you and stand straight right before your face.

"Now,I understand why Jimin broke up with Areum. Jimin got you." He said as he pinned you at the wall. He thoroughly looked into your eyes leaving no gap. His hot steamy breath could be sensed by your cold skin. Each word he spokes makes your heart pound. His wide chest touches your torso. He was furious and angry that time you could clearly guess. But more he come nearer to you. You felt like hugging him. Instead of asking him to leave you, you just glared into his eyes. Both of you were stolen in each other eyes. No one was taking back.

"Love you Jiminiee." Jungkook mimicked you.

"Jungkook, stop it"

"Tell me that you love Jimin and I'll leave."

"What if we stand like this forever." You winked.

"Don't play with me, ____(y/n)" Jungkook smirked as he come closer to your face.

"What if I kiss you now?" You smirkingly said.

"Then do that! Jimin again got a cheater girlfriend. Poor Jimin." Jungkook giggled.

"I'm glad that he didn't get a girlfriend like Areum." You frowned.

"Mind your business. Dare not to speak anything about them." Jungkook arrogantly said.

"Who started, huh? Who's now pinning me? Who's jealous about Jimin? Who wants to take me to dinner? Hear yourself, baby." You playfully winked as you punched him to get off from him. He took a back from you.

"Seokjin is right my taste is real bad. Live with your Jimin happily." Jungkook said.

"First of all he's right to say that. Having a friend like Seokjin shows your taste. Secondly, Jimin is not my boyfriend. Lastly, don't ever dare to talk to me and fuck off." You ranted as you leave the room.

(✿ ♡‿♡) (✿ ♡‿♡) (✿ ♡‿♡)

TAGS : @mellie1409 @pariyansha @alienatedkitten @chans-baby-girl @mwitsmejk @hello-stranger24 (sry the tags are not working)

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fuckboy #jungkook romance #jungkook × reader #jungkook ×oc #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook icons #jungkook layouts #jungkook moodboard #jungkook friends to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #bts jimin #jimin × reader #kookiiee #jjk smut #jungkook birthday #jungkook core #jungkook assistant and manager au #jungkook kpop #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut

[wreckofawriter]

Best Not To Cry Over Spilled Milk

Pairing: James Potter x Sirius' twin!reader

Warnings: A shit ton of angst, a little swearing

Word Count: 3,779

Request: @rini-scallison: May I request something? If I may I would like to request something like not so perfect sister but instead it’s with Sirius as the brother (a twin if you may) and the reader is like the perfect daughter and Sirius hates her but she tries really hard for him to have a happy life and there’s a bunch of angst and stuff ! You can add a romance in there if you would like too ! Thank you!

A/n: Okay sooo I'm not sure if this is exscatly what the request was but it's how I interpreted it, I really like it at least, I hope you guys do to. I'm hoping to bang out my last few requests, I'm quarantined till April 12th sooo... (stay safe everyone, love you all <3)

Sirius liked to believe he was a pleasant person. At least for the most part, and considering his background, he thought he did pretty good. He may not have been an angel but he had good friends, he helped those around him and unless your name was Severus, he was usually kind. Usually. Unfortunatly there were two people in this world that could break his carefully crafted exterior in a matter of seconds. They both shared his name.

The first was his mother, someone who in all honesty he saw as less of a human and more of a grotesque creature from a child’s nightmare. In his mind, her black heels were replaced by sharp talons. Her long fingernails were claws of obsidian and her dark eyes had the ability to turn you to stone. She had spent her time in Sirius’ life diminishing him to nothing more than a clone of her terror as he tried to make himself anything but. 

The second was a success story. The clone of his mother’s terror. His beloved twin, y/n Black or as many had taken to calling her recently; the Slytherin Queen. And boy was she. She followed every order dispatched to her, obeyed every demand, bowed before the monster that had raised her. She had kept on her blindfold her mother had placed on her the minute she had entered the world. Maybe it only took the twelve minutes which y/n had emerged before Sirius for her to fall under a spell which even the youngest black had started to break from. 

    Sirius was never sure what happened to you. You always sat with your back straight at the dinner table. You never complained about the corset which was always sinched too tight, you would just let your vision go dark from the lack of oxygen. And it completely infuriated him. 

    Sirius really wished he hadn’t cared when he had gotten the letter. He really wished he had thrown a party and done something stupid like set off fireworks in the common room. But he hadn’t. He had instead demolished an entire bottle of fire whiskey crying because, fuck it hurt to be tossed aside by the people who were supposed to love you most.  The next morning he dragged you into an empty classroom hungover and still smelling of liquor and asked you what he fuck had happened. 

    You had told him you begged your mother not to, you told a sob story about a sad little argument in which you- the obvious victim -had fought for his place on the banner in your living room. 

The truth had been very different, his mother had exposed the fact that it was indeed your idea to kick him from the family, that you were convinced he was a disgrace, nothing more than a bug to squash under your boot. He wished he could believe you not his monster. But he knew you. He knew you so goddamn well. You were his twin. His other half. He saw the way your eyes darted away from his own, you shifted on your feet, how you bit the inside of your cheek. You had lied. You had lied to him and he would never forgive you for it. 

    “And what is the M.O.M classification of the Phoenix?” Merrythought asked. Your hand shot in the air. “Ms. Black?” 

    “An XXXX professor, although it did not earn this rating from its aggression but only because so few wizards have been able to domesticate it.” You explained and Sirius rolled his eyes. 

    “Correct Ms. Black, five points to Slytherin.” The teacher praised, you beamed still sitting straight as a board.  

    Sirius let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like the words ‘Kiss ass’ earning a few giggles from the surrounding students. 

    You pretended you didn’t hear him, hand tightening around your quill. 

    James watched as your knuckles went white, How did your brother still bother you? He wondered. 

    Sirius leaned back in the chair next to him mumbling something unnecessarily rude. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. When class was dismissed Sirius made a point to pass you as you packed up. 

    “You’ll make an excellent death eater sis.” He taunted and you paused for a moment but refused to comment. 

    Sirius left the classroom James followed risking a glance over this shoulder to see you being joined by a blonde boy and the Lestrange sisters. Sirius caught him looking and sneered, “A bunch of future murders. Fuckin’ assholes.” 

“You know you could give her a rest, you haven’t even spoken in like a year,” James suggested. 

Sirius scoffed, “And who’s fault is that?” 

James shrugged, knowing the awnser. 

“You know she’s ghosting Reg too?” Sirius glowered, “He always looked up to her too, I have no clue why, but he did. And now she won’t even talk to him.” 

Remus and Peter joined the pair as they made their way into the Grand Hall. 

“Talking about y/n?” Remus inferred.

“Hard not to when she’s such a bitch.” 

James cringed at his friend’s choice of words.  “I’m hungry, let's get some food.” He spoke attempting to change the topic. 

“Why else would be in here?” Remus laughed. 

James cracked a smile opening his mouth to speak but was cut off. 

“Oh shit.” Sirius cussed. 

“What did you do?” Remus sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything but can you get me food and meet me in the common room, I may or may not be avoiding Marleen,” Sirius spoke ducking behind James.  

“Sure, just get out of here, I really don’t want to hear her voice right now.” Peter cringed at the memory of being yelled at by the sharp toned girl. 

“I���ll get food, you guys ditch,” James suggested. The other three agreed to leave the hall as the fourth grabbed four plates filling each and flicking his wand causing them to float in the air surrounding him.

James then made his way from the hall. As he turned out of the door he ran straight into someone, stumbling backward a bit he straightened his gaze to see you, your group of what he supposed were friends sneered at him. 

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up.” You spoke, voice monotone. 

They silently agreed, leaving you with the curly-haired boy who now pushed his glasses nervously up his nose. 

“Hey Potter, I need to talk to you.”  James would never admit he was scared of you but he did feel his heart leap to his throat at your words. 

“What’s up?” He asked hoping you didn’t catch as the sentence wavered slightly. 

You bit your lip glancing down at your feet before looking up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to thank you.” 

That is not what he expected you to ask. 

“I can’t even begin to say how relieved I am that you took Sirius in. Please thank your parents for me as well.” You seemed almost nervous, “I actually have something for you.” 

James could not believe that the words you were saying were actually coming out of your mouth. He had expected you to cuss at him, call him a blood traitor amongst other names and then follow your friends into the hall. But you were thanking him instead. 

You rummaged in your bag before removing a red box about the size of a wide bookmark. You held it out to the boy. 

James stared at you half expecting you to break out laughing and reveal the joke. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumbled shoving the gift at his chest. 

“Sorry.” James murmured opening the box eyes widening. Inside was a watch, a damn nice one. It looked to be at least plated with gold, if not solid. Its inside was a scarlet red with three different faces, one of which instead of showing roman numerals around the edge showed the phases of the moon. The strap was a reddish leather, clasp gold as well. 

“Here, watch this.” You spoke stepping closer and carefully removing the watch from its velvet cushion. You held it delicately, pressing an almost invisible button on the side. In a flash two delicate golden wings erupted from the sides of the device and James realized in fascination that the watch now appeared to look like a snitch, you paid no mind flipping it over to reveal a small square gap on the back. “It’s enchanted with an undetectable extension charm so you can put just about anything in it.” You explained clicking the small button again. 

James watched in marvel as the wings fluttered closed closing the gap seamlessly.  “This is amazing y/n,” He whispered looking up at you only to realize you were centimeters away. He could feel your breath fan over his cheeks. It was cold and minty.  

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” You reasoned sliding the watch back into its case and stepping backward. “And before you say you can’t accept it remember that I have plenty of money.” 

Those were going to be the next words out of his mouth. 

“I have one more thing to ask you, James.” You seemed really nervous now, you hoisted the strap of your bag back up over your shoulder. “How’s Sirius? Is he okay?” 

You had baffled him once again. 

“I know I should be asking him that but ever since last year he would sooner light me on fire than have a civil conversation with me.” You sighed.

The Chaser stared at you, this is not how he thought your conversation would go.

“So is he okay?” You asked again, almost urgently. 

“Yeah, he’s fine.” James assured you, “He’s a little moody but overall he’s good.” 

“Have his panic attacks stopped?” You questioned.  

James who had no clue he even got those nodded, “I think so.” 

“Mental breakdowns?” 

James ran his hands through his hair, “He gets them every once and awhile, Moony and I help him through though.” 

You gave a weak smile and stepped forward wrapping your arms around his neck, placing your forehead on his chest. James froze, slowly letting his arms hold your waist, “I honestly can’t thank you enough. You’re a godsend Potter.” You mumbled. You stepped away a few seconds later crimson kissing your cheeks. “Don’t tell Siri we talked. He’ll be pissed.” And with that, you left. 

James felt his heart hammer as he sucked in the air he didn’t realize he had stopped breathing. What just happened?

James had had a crush on you the second you locked eyes centuries ago on platform 9 and ¾. You were the main reason he had looked so long for a certain compartment. A compartment that contained a set of twins, one of which would become his best friend. You had always been very pretty, your strong attitude had aided in that conclusion as well. He thought you were going to be very good friends with him. That was until you were sorted into Slytherin and Sirius soon revealed his rivalry with you.  

He had still harbored feelings for you, small ones he chose to ignore most of the time. He never told a soul, passing his feelings from girl to girl. He proved to be quite good at burying them. You also showed just how good you were at unearthing his secrets with a laugh, a wide smile or the save of a quaffle. The feeling of you in his arms rested in his mind for a long time. He dreamt of you, yearned to hold you again. You had smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you fit into his chest as a puzzle piece did to its neighbor. He really wished you hadn’t hugged him. 

As your sixteenth birthday approached both twins appeared to be more and more on edge. James was dead set on throwing a massive party but Sirius didn’t seem into it. As the day loomed closer he got jumpy, almost paranoid; as if someone was going to lean out from behind him and throw a bag over his head before dragging him away. 

James also began to notice your absences from classes. More and more often you were simply gone, not being anywhere for days before appearing out of nowhere. You always looked so pale when you got back from wherever you had gone, the circle under your eyes always looked darker. He had asked Sirius what was up but got nowhere, he would just lick his lips and say nothing was wrong. A blatant lie. 

You disappeared four days before the 3rd and was gone the entire week. Sirius refused to go to classes that week as well, claiming to be sick, which was fair considering he looked white as a ghost most of the time. 

When you finally returned it looked as if you had been kissed by a dementor. Your face was vacant of any color, your usually vibrant eyes looked pale, bags underneath them bruised brown. 

Both James and Sirius simultaneously tried to convince themselves you just had a stomach bug, that your sunken cheeks were nothing to be concerned about. Both knew they were wrong. 

Sirius found you easily. He knew you too well. You always snuck outside, even when you were younger you would always sneak to the park a few blocks away to escape your mother’s rage. Until you learned to play with fire rather than run from it.

He followed you to the greenhouse. You had always liked herbology. 

You turned at the shuffle of feet to see your brother, he looked almost as terrible as you did. 

“Did you do it?” He asked, his voice sounding so empty as muffled chirps of crickets flowed through the cold November air. 

You refused to look up, You sat in the corner of the cold glass house, your knees pulled to your chest, eyes cast on your dress shoes.  

“Did you really go through with it?” His voice cracked, he stumbled over his own feet. 

You still didn’t answer. Tears had built so thickly in your eyes you couldn’t see. You blinked and they went cascading downwards, raindrops leaking off your chin. 

“Answer me y/n!” Sirius cried through gritted teeth, tears of his own threatening to spill. 

“We have to get Regulus out of that house.” You spoke so plainly it was hard to believe that the words had come from you. “Fuck Siri they have a new initiation ceremony. He can’t go through with that.” 

“Shit y/n/n, what did you do?” His voice was a mix of disgust and despair.

“I don’t fucking know.” You answered honestly.

“Did you kill someone?” He hissed. 

“I wish I did Siri, I really wish I did.” 

Sirius dropped his shoulders a defeated sigh coming from his lips.

“We have to get him out soon Siri. He is so much more stubborn than you were too.” You whimpered. “I mean you practically disowned yourself, mom just needed a push with you.” 

“Why did you give her that push?” Sirius gasped, “Why did you do that? I could have helped you.” 

“I saved you, Sirius.” Your sentence broke in half, “I know you hate me for it but I saved you.” 

Sirius wiped his eyes furiously, “How did you possibly save me y/n?” He seethed.

“What do you think mom would have done if you were still in that house four days ago?” You asked. You knew he already knew the answer. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you save yourself?” Sirius hollered, “Why did you follow every rule she set? Every fucking order she gave you?” 

“The Black family needed an heir.” You shrugged tongue darting out to collect a tear from the corner of your mouth. “I knew it had to be one of us, if not you or me then Reg.” you paused, “So I decided it would be me.” 

    “How? How could you possibly decide that?” Sirius sobbed now standing in front of you. You still didn’t look up. 

“It was easier than you would think.” You chuckled darkly.

“It’s not fair y/n.” He stated, “We can still help you. Dumbledore will help, you can stay with James and me. Please y/n.” 

“It’s too late and you know it.” You spoke, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.” 

“But your life isn’t spilled milk!” Sirius shouted. 

“Might as well be.” You shrugged finally meeting your brother’s eyes. They matched your own, puffy and red. 

“How can you say that?” The boy spat, “It’s your fucking life!”

“Not anymore.” You sighed. “Look, Siri, in all honesty, I don’t give two fucks about my life right now, we have less than 13 months to find a way to get Regulus the fuck out of that house and then boom he turns 16 and none of this shit matters anymore. So stop worrying about me and start realizing we can still save him.” 

Sirius had never felt so incredibly selfish before. You had given away your life for him and for Regulus. What had he given away? He had gotten the life he wanted while you would suffer for the rest of yours. And all you said was ‘It’s best not to cry over spilled milk.’ He suddenly remembered every jibe and comment he had said to you. You had done nothing but bite your tongue as he taunted the nightmare you lived him so he could bask in a daydream. 

“I need you to start hanging out with him.” You mumbled, voice raw, “I have been avoiding him, hopefully, it will help. I’m gonna start making up lies about how his grades are slipping and he’s hanging out with mudbloods, maybe dating one.” You sighed, “Reg still wants to impress mom, I need you to get it into his mind how twisted she is. Make him hate her. Make him hate me too, use me as an example.” You paused, “Can you do that Siri?” 

Sirius didn’t speak for a long time. You didn’t pressure him to. You stared straight ahead tears still leaking from your eyes. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” Sirius finally spoke. He sounded half-dead, deflated. He sounded like you. 

“Good.” You didn’t waste a second. You got to your feet wiping your tears and then you walked away.  

James sprinted down the halls. He has his eyes peeled to the two names in the greenhouse. He made it free of the castle and saw a figure making their way towards him. He glanced down at the map and saw that it was you.  

As he neared you he was finally able to drink in your appearance. Your eyes were bloodshot, you were attempting to dry never-ending teardrops, dragging your forearm repeatedly over your face. When you looked up at him his heart broke. Your bottom lip was shaking eyes so glassy it must have stung. 

You dove into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and you began to cry. Your body jumped with sobs as James pulled you closer to him. 

He forgot about everything but you as you nuzzled closer to him. He forgot about Sirius, about the tears soaking through his shirt and the dew that had dampened his robes. He only cared about you. You and the fact that you still smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you and your overly soft hair, you and your cold hands wrapped around him.

James nestled into your hair inhaling its intoxicating scent. He then hooked his hands under your arms and lifted you so your hands were wrapped around his neck. You understood and wrapped your legs around his waist your head becoming buried into his neck. He placed one hand under each of your thighs and began to carry you inside. As you made your way through the castle your tears began to slow, sobs turning to whimpers.

James felt his face bloom with deep red roses. His heart was thumping far too quickly. When he reached his destination he only had to pace twice before the door showed its self. The inside of the room was relatively the same as it always was except for the large brick fireplace and massive couch filled with large pillows. 

The Chaser attempted to set you down on the couch but your firm grip on his neck and the legs wrapped around him forced him to follow downwards. A fresh blush coated his cheeks. You burrowed back into his embrace and it was quiet for a long time. The only noise coming from the crack of the fireplace and the sound of a faint wind blowing outside.  

“Y/n what happened?” James finally asked and you pulled a bit away from him so you could look him in his eyes. 

He looked so handsome, his deep chocolate brown eyes were wide with worry, only more magnified behind his round glasses. His cheeks were painted with poppies, his lips plush, and pink. His unruly thickly curled hair framed his face perfectly, a small strand falling between his eyes. 

“You know I always had a thing for you.” You smiled weakly, “From the moment I saw you on the platform I thought you were the cutest thing I had ever laid eyes on.” 

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond, he assumed he was dreaming. 

“I never wanted to tell you, James, I never thought I would. But I need to.” 

The room fell quiet again. 

“Can I kiss you y/n?” James finally asked his heart near shattering. 

You nodded slowly and he let his eyes flutter shut, yours doing the same as your lips gently met. The kiss was so fragile you were afraid it may break. He tasted like pumpkin juice, his tongue slipping into your mouth seconds before you pulled away. 

“Y/n let me help you.” James pleaded as you swung your feet off of the couch, sitting upright as you mumbled ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ quietly to yourself. 

“Just.. take care of Siri for me.” You could feel tears beginning to climb back upwards. 

James sat up beside you, “Y/n please.” He begged. 

“It’s okay James.” You assured him with a watery smile. “You’ll get over it.” 

“But y/n-” 

You shushed him placing your pointer finger on his lips. He blinked a small tear falling down his flushed cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb. 

“You’ll be okay James.” You paused standing swiftly, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.” You murmured over your shoulder as you left the room. 

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[kassia-ortiz]

“Let me be clear -- I'm no politician. Like most of you, I come from nothing. And I know what it means to be powerless,” the sound of my father’s voice on the television caught my attention, forcing me to look up from my laptop. There he was; in the middle of some interview for one of the more popular San Juan news outlets, dripping in machismo and dressed in overpriced Brioni...lying his fucking ass off.

“My campaign for governor is about restoring the power to you, the people of Puerto Rico, and taking it out of the hands of the thugs that are destroying the very fabric of our society..” he droned on as I continued to watch his first on-air interview since announcing his intent to run. I glanced behind where I sat on the couch to throw Mateo, the man in charge of my protection while in the city, the deepest eye roll I could muster. “Can you believe him?” I questioned incredulously, though I knew there would be no response. He wasn’t allowed to speak to me unnecessarily. I continued to watch in silence, trying to ignore my internal anger at his blatant arrogance and quell it by keeping my retorts to myself. “...and robbing our children’s future. We all know who I’m talking about - the cartels.” You mean you. “If elected, my promise to you is this: I will track down every drug dealer, every gang banger, every smuggler. I will find every stash house and burn it to the ground." There's no way people are going to buy this shit.

"That's quite a promise," the interviewer cut in with a disbelieving tone, causing me to look up again, ready to see if he had it in him to call my father on his crap. "And I must admit your story is one for the books. Born the son of a farmer, starting his own local produce company and turning it into a thriving international export business." Here I couldn't stop the second eye roll. "In regards to your past though, I'm sure you're aware of the allegations of your direct involvement in the drug trade." There you go. Let's see him dance his way around that. 

"Nothing could be farther from the truth," my father replied without missing a beat, "My opponents have spread lies about me in an attempt to make me look just like them - dirty. Hiding behind the masks of politicians. But the voters know that these are just lies." You mean you pay them to believe the lies. "They are looking for a man of the people, to put an end to these corrupt politicians who for too long have turned a blind eye, in favor of these cartels. They want a man who doesn't just make promises, but a man of his word. Ortiz is a--" The sound of his voice cut out as soon as I shut down the television. I couldn't listen to anymore of the hypocrisy.

But almost as though he could read my mind all the way from San Juan, my phone began to ring with my father’s face filling the screen. As much shit as I was just talking about him in my head, I still answered before the third ring - a rule of his for me since I got my first cellphone. And if there's one thing my father is especially skilled at, it's demanding obedience. "Yes, I saw the interview," I immediately said as my way of a greeting, "And yes, I remember the meeting tonight. You don't need to call and remind me before every one."

"If I don’t call to remind you that your entire college tuition and fancy New York apartment can be easily stripped away," his tone dripped with condescension, knowing full well that I was on the other end, seething, "You won't perform your job to the best of your abilities. Don't fuck this up, Kassia. Our shipments have been coming in light and I fully expect you to deliver those responsible to me by tomorrow. Me entiendes?"

"Si, Papa, I understand," I agreed, wanting to get him off the phone, tired of biting my tongue, "Mateo is already fetching the car. I'll call with an update after." I hung up before he could say anything else. By that point, Mateo was looking at me with confusion but I still got up to get dressed. Forever obedient. We were out the door half an hour later, my face fully made up and my outfit carefully chosen to make me seem more like I knew what I was doing. As if the right blazer was going to make me feel more like the daughter of a cartel jefé or instill in me the hunger for violence these meetings seemed to require.

"The rest of the men are on standby at the warehouse," came Mateo's strong baritone once we were in the quiet, blacked out SUV. I gave him a nod of acknowledgement in the rearview mirror as he reached back to hand me my handgun of choice - a sleek SIG Sauer pistol given to me by my father when I was fifteen. You know, a normal gift for a girl of that age. I slipped it into the holster I wore under my jacket and sat back as the vehicle pulled into the road. "Don't forget we need to pick up my quality control," I directed him offhandedly, already sending the warning text. My eyes watched the people on the sidewalks as we drove through the city, envying the mundane lives they all led as I prepared myself mentally to play the role of the woman I was destined to be. The one controlling the entire east coast distribution of my father’s cocaina empire.

A destiny I never asked for.

#[kass bio/narrative]

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Seven

Table of Content or Part Forty-Six

Wattpad

Words: 2.6k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

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"...Viv, I can't afford to bail anyone out of jail right now." Doc sighs out sleepily and I roll my jaw.

"Well, none of the guys have enough money either. We're in a bind."

"How'd you even get arrested?" He asks me and I rub my lips together.

"This douche face was being obnoxious and creepy and we had a misunderstanding." I explain.

"Misunderstanding?"

"Okay he got his ass handed to him and security called the cops." I mumble, rolling my eyes.

"Who exactly handed him his ass, Vivian?"

"...A red head..."

"Vivian Sixx--"

"--Um, Axl's locked up, too, it coulda been either one of us!" I defend myself. "If one of the guys called you from jail, you'd bail them out asap." I add.

A moment of silence passes as I pray in my mind that he agrees to something.

"Alright, Viv, alright. I'll handle it." He sighs out.

He hangs up and I put the phone back on the hook as the officer escorts me back to the holding cell Axl, Duff, Izzy, Slash, Steven and Tansy are in.

"What did he say?" Duff asks.

"He's handling it." I say to him.

"Oh, I'm sure." Axl mumbles, his head leaned back against the block wall, sunglasses covering his eyes up. "Must be nice to snap your fingers and get what you want."

"Oh, damn." Stevie says under his breath, knowing this is about to cause an argument.

Slash is busy tying the laces of his boots with Tansy's, Izzy's trying to catch a nap, and Duff is scooting over on the floor so I can sit next to him.

"I get it even faster using 'Sixx'." I don't even deny Axl's accusation and he scoffs.

"Coulda used that card to keep us from getting arrested in the first place."

"No, you could've kept us from getting arrested had you kept your temper together instead of punching the guy." I snap.

"And like you threatening the police officer helped." He shoots back at me.

"I didn't threaten him." I argue.

"You told him you'd break your foot off in his ass." Steven points out, rubbing his tired eyes.

"It was a promise, not a threat, and I wouldn't have said it if he wouldn't have been unnecessarily aggressive." I scoff.

"Yeah, well it got everyone else in trouble for being associated with us. So next time keep your fuckin' mouth shut." He states.

"There won't be a 'next time' because I refuse to be locked in a tiny space with you ever again." I roll my eyes.

There was a "next time" a couple years later.

It was my first time out since having Monroe when a paparazzi so boldly called me a "passaround" and asked me what other bassists I had "sucked and fucked."

Axl and I both went for him without realizing the other person was throwing a punch, and he got double the trouble.

We were deemed "Twin Tornados" after that because apparently were both loud, aggressive, unpredictable, and could make a mess.

Within an hour and a half, it's five in the morning, and Duff is nudging me awake.

"Hmm?" I sit up from laying against his arm.

"I think Doc's here." He tells me, nudging everyone else awake.

Within a few more minutes an officer is stepping to us, unlocking the cell.

Once we get our stuff back and go to the lobby, bitterly glare at Doc...

Nikki's leaned against the counter, leather jacket clad arms are crossed, and I can just feel his hazel eyes looking me up and down from behind his blacked out sunglasses.

I ignore him the best I can, stepping outside, only for Doc to trail behind me as Nikki and the guys make small talk as they walk out after us.

"Viv, I didn't have any other choice." Doc tells me and I turn to face him.

"Vince, Tommy...?" I ask. "They would've come and got us out. You just went to Nikki because you were pissed I inconvenienced you."

"I went to Nikki because once the two of you said 'I do', you promised to take care of each other. He wanted to come make sure you were alright. Regardless of this dumb separation you two have going on, you're still his wife."

"Dumb separation he insisted on." I point out, tears swelling in my eyes.

"Well, he's not exactly singing that song anymore." He tells me lowly and I furrow my brows.

"What?"

"Just believe me. He misses you." He mumbles.

I don't have time to question him anymore.

"Can we go home now?" Steven yawns, stretching.

"I can take you guys home." Doc offers. "Viv, you can go back with Nikki." He suggests and I raise my brow as tension collects in the air.

Everyone looks at me knowingly, waiting for me to answer.

"I can't do that." I argue, crossing my arms.

"It's been a month, Viv." Doc states, his eyes flickering to Nikki for a second.

"Which means we have two more to go." I raise my brows.

"Vivian." He says more sternly. "Stop being ridiculous."

"He wanted to get away from me for three months. He's getting what he wants, like he always does." I laugh without humor.

"You didn't really expect him to go that long with his wife--"

"--Oh, I did. He was oh so sure he wanted to be separated for that long." I cut Doc off, looking at Nikki. "I'll see you in two months. Whether it's with open arms or divorce papers, is up to you. I could give a damn at this point."

I wanted to punish him. He hurt me by making me feel like he didn't care. He didn't throw "ninety days" out there to have that much time to gather his thoughts and reflect and do better by me, he threw out that number so he could have more time to do whatever the hell he wanted to without his wife in the house.

And he did whatever and whoever the hell he wanted to do the entire time.

For years I blamed my reluctance and pettiness as the main contributor to his affair with Vanity.

After that night at the police station, I refused to come home, even when he called the apartment, fucked up and crying, repeating "I'm sorry."

Had I come home, it might have decreased their time spent together or something. At least that's how I felt for years after the actual affair took place.

I didn't realize he wasn't calling and saying "sorry" because he regretted suggesting we be apart for that long...but because he'd slept with another woman. Another woman he found himself becoming slightly emotionally connected to, and knew, almost immediately, wouldn't just be a one-night stand or a fling, but would become "the other woman."

And she would hold that position, without my knowledge, for an entire year and a half.

Of course when I found out I was angry at the both of them, but I was more angry at him.

He sought her out.

He saw her in Vanity 6's "Nasty Gal" video, called his people at the office, they contacted her people, and set up a date for them to meet. Just like that. And he wasn't even thinking of me because I wasn't even living in the house with him.

So to me, for a long time, I was just as much to blame as Nikki and Vanity.

And that doesn't even count the many times I blamed myself for his straying after staring in a mirror and comparing myself to her.

We were on the complete opposite sides of the spectrum in looks, personality, how we carried ourselves, and hobbies.

And it's not like she was Nikki's outlet to an entirely different lifestyle than he had with me.

It wasn't like he was a sober, church going, family man who kept things vanilla and just visited her when he needed a wild night of smoking crack, shooting heroin and screwing around.

He was the same person with her as he was with me.

The only reason they stayed together so long is because she never made him feel bad for fucking himself up. She encouraged it.

And that was the one thing I had over her.

Well that, and, according to Izzy, "she's a ten but the drugs make her a five. And her being batshit crazy knocks her to a solid two...on a good day. You're a ten."

He followed that up with, "don't compare yourself to a fucking crack addict when there's barely anything left of her to compare to. The only thing she can say she's got on you, is screwing your husband, and she brags about it because strung out Nikki Sixx is obviously a prize."

His sarcasm had me laughing and wiping my tears.

I was tempted to get "strung out Nikki Sixx is obviously a prize" tattooed on me, but decided not to.

The door opens and Slash and Steven come in, chuckling, as I scrub the last cup in the sink.

"Wow, it's only three in the afternoon and you're up?" I ask them.

"We took Tans to the airport." Stevie explains. "I don't know why she doesn't just move back here." He adds.

"She works out of New York." I say with a shrug.

"She's alright got Miss 1985. The hell else is there left for her to do?" He sighs, pouting a little and I rub my lips together.

"Hustler magazine called her a few days ago." I tell them and they look at each other.

"Hustler's more graphic than Playboy..." Steven points out with slight distaste.

"I think the wrong people have their feet on her neck, and there's not a damn thing any of us can do about it." I tell him, rubbing my forehead.

"Oh." He says lowly, a sad expression on his face.

I decide to change the subject.

"So." I start, sitting on the counter. "Any idea for an album yet?"

"We got plenty of songs. We're looking for a producer." Slash informs me, sitting on the couch. "Tom wants to bring in Paul Stanley."

"Ugh." I can't hide my wrinkling nose at the idea of Paul Stanley producing Guns N' Roses.

"What's wrong with that?" Steven asks me.

"I like Paul but KISS isn't Guns N' Roses. I don't think he would give you a sound that's signature to you guys' style."

"Yeah, that's what the guys think." Stevie replies, sighing out. "It's still cool we got his attention."

"Yeah, it is." I agree. "You just gotta stick to what your sound is, is all."

"Well, who produced Mötley's first big album?"

"Oh, it wa--" I stop myself abruptly after the name completely leaves my mind. I furrow my brows, knowing that I know who produced it, but I can't. "I'm not crazy. I know who produced it."

They wait for a moment.

"Did they even have a producer?" I mumble to myself. "Well then who the hell produced 'Shout at the Devil' and 'Theater of Pain'?" I ask myself, thinking harder than I should be. "You're telling me you were the only sober one around and you can't even remember who the hell was working with them?" I keep talking to myself and I can see Steven and Slash looking at each other from the corner of my eye. "I give up. I can't remember. I'm not crazy." I tell them and Stevie spins his pointer finger beside his temple to signal to Slash that I'm looney and I throw the dish towel at him, hitting him in the face, causing him to chuckle some more.

"I'm gonna go get a shower." I tell them, trying to calm my laughter spell with them as I step to the bathroom and start the shower before undressing and getting in.

I've been fine, actually getting out of bed at a reasonable time every day and cleaning up the apartment while the guys are out doing whatever. I haven't missed any doses of my medicine in a while, and that's helping my mood more than I thought it would.

I've been slowly starting to dance again. I'm not sure if Mandy is aware Duff sneaks me to her band's rehearsal space almost every other night, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

I still miss Nikki--and it's been two weeks since we last saw each other--but it's not a "can't breathe without you" feeling, I just miss his company, his smart-ass comments, his teasing, his laugh, his smile, his eyes, the sound of his bass as he fumbles with it to recreate a riff he thought up in his head at some point, the way he would do tiny things to help me around the house, our conversations in the dead of night about stupid things he would think up under the influence...I miss him sneaking into my bedroom window at night and the two of us trying not to wake up my parents with our laughter, I miss feeling like I never wanted to leave the apartment he shared with Vince and Tommy because I'd have to leave his bed, I miss not having the weight of the world on my shoulders, not constantly thinking "you're his wife, people are looking at you, dress like this, look like this, act like this, look happy, be sexy, fuck him good, and he won't give groupies a second glance."

I miss life before the access to excess.

I miss Nikki.

Not "Nikki Sixx of Mötley Crüe."

Just Nikki.

I'm rinsing shampoo from my hair when someone knocks at the door.

"Viv?"

Speaking of Mandy, her voice sounds from the other side of the door.

"Yeah?" I reply, hearing the door open a little.

"You've got a phone call. He says it's an emergency." She tells me. "He says it's about your husband." She adds.

I'm nearly breaking my neck to scramble out of the shower, not bothering with taking the time to wrap up in the towel, rushing past her and my heart sinks to my stomach.

"Emergency" and "Nikki" are never good in the same sentence.

Duff is holding the phone for me, mouthing "Doc" to me as I take it, trying to convince myself not to start crying before I even know what exactly is going on.

"H-Hello?" I ask into the phone, my body shaking. I don't know if it's due to anxiousness or the cold air clinging to my wet skin.

Duff's draping my shoulders with his jacket, and Mandy pulls it shut so I'm not flashing Slash or Steven, who're in front of us, sitting on the couch.

"Viv, I need you to break that fucking bullshit you have for therapy and go back home." Doc orders me.

"Why? What happened? What's wrong? Is Nikki okay?" I frantically ask one after the other.

"I don't know, I'm about to head over there and make sure." He says.

"Doc, what the hell happened? What's wrong?" I demand, getting more and more impatient.

He's quiet on the other end, hesitating for some reason, only pissing me off more and more because I feel like I'm about to have a heart attack.

"Doc!" I bark, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"His grandfather, Tom, just called me so I could pass the message on to you. He's already called Nikki." He starts, pausing as if what he's about to say is a tough thing to get out. "Nikki's grandmother has passed away, Vivian."

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Hey! I am asking for advice. I fucked up a few years ago at the telling apart ghosts and gods and would rather not go through that again. Could you help me out? I really want to get back into it but that was a very bad experience so I'm anxious. Thank you!!

Anon, I love this question and if you're willing to drop some more details in my inbox, anon or not, please do. I'm sorry that you had such a bad experience, but take heart, maybe, that everybody does this at SOME point, and taking a few years off to process is actually a pretty snappy turnaround time.

(spooky occult people only pls)

(scroll along, the rest of you)

It IS a tricky question, though.

Tough love up front: there is no entirely safe, entirely pleasant way to do magic. Fundamentally magic is transformative and therefore often uncomfortable. There's fears and negative emotions to work through, and there's also just some straight up tedium and drudgery, and no matter how cool you are, no matter how sure you feel about your place in the grand scheme of the universe, you will eventually question everything and get some things wrong. There will not only always be risk: sooner or later there will be pain.

But! Is it worth it? ABSOLUTELY, anon, and I'm not gonna try to persuade you because if you're asking, you've already made up your mind. You just want to not make the same mistakes over again. You want to make brand new mistakes! It is the only way to move forward.

There is a difference between the merely uncomfortable and the truly dangerous, so ultimately it's a game of knowing when fear is a just a trial to get through versus when fear is a warning keeping you safe. The first time I tried to answer this question I made a quick list of protections, but that's not really the issue. You're wiser than that. You're asking about something diagnostic.

Discernment is the greatest occult skill and one that’s difficult to quantify. It's one of those paradoxes of inexperience, nigh impossible to hone without practice, yet a skill you need in order to get out there and practice.

whatever your prior experience was: what did you learn from it? what was the point where you started to feel something went wrong? identifying that moment, how it felt, how you felt it, will help you more than anything I or anyone else can tell you.

I am, honestly, not the best person to describe how to increase your psychic sensitivity or whatever. The good news, maybe, is that you don't have to be great at discernment before you start. Yes, you can put all your effort into sharpening your senses before you even go out there, which is a noble way of doing it and maybe it will eventually even work, OR—you can put on some safety gear and wade out into the swamp wearing your little floaties so that you don't sink.

Your metaphorical swimming wings here are protections and banishments and the preemptive assistance of something bigger than you on your side. This answer is mostly going to focus on that last part, because "ghosts and gods" implies, I think, that you are ready to work with gods, or at least eager, which is, like, at least half of the process.

However, even then, I do wanna say—while I don't want to discount your negative experiences at all! I don't know anything about them, but I'm sure it was awful!—you, all by yourself, can probably banish most ghostly things you're likely to run into. There's a lotta bark, and usually not that much bite. I wrote up some less formal banishing methods and posted them here on ye old witch blogge, but really, you can mostly just yell at stuff to leave.

(there is a fair amount of repetition between this post and that one! I apologize. I mostly typed these late at night over the course of several days)

Now! Assistance. An ounce of prevention vs a pound of cure and it’s good to pack light.

So much of magic across time and cultures is about negotiating with spirits of some flavor or another. Maybe it's worship or maybe it's bindings or maybe it's strictly transactional, but as beings made of flesh we are forever making pacts with beings made of something else, and hey, it usually works.

The complication here is that the distinction between ghosts and gods maybe isn't that simple. Mess with the wording a little and Catholic saints are basically both. And so are some orisha, some loa, and so on. Baron Samedi (lord of the cemetery, best bang since the big one, etc etc etc) in particular, out of the vodou pantheon, may or may not have been human once, depending on who you ask.

Further: the most readily available spooky occult forces you have are your ancestors. So you'd file that under ghosts, maybe, except that with ancestral veneration practices and all, we inch closer to god territory, in a sense. At least—the rituals start looking the same from an outside perspective. Santeria, Vodou, Epiritismo and many more practices that the ones I'm familiar with involve working with your ancestors to accomplish your worldly goals. We don't consider them ghosts when we work with them; that's not the word we use. But arguably—why not?

So the trick here isn't necessarily how to sort ghosts from gods as much as it is to hang out with some NICE (to you) ghosts and/or gods.

How do you do that?

If you have a good relationship with your ancestors, then you start there. If you, like me, or lots of other long disowned and disinherited magicians, have a disconnect there, then—welp. Consider getting over it by going back further in the family tree (this is what you will inevitably eventually do). Somewhere in there you have someone kind, I promise. But that's not advice I could have followed ten years ago, so I'll get to the alternative in a minute. Let's assume, for the moment, that you accept the logic that your ancestors have a vested interest in protecting their line, and in fact having an active magic user willing to work with them probably makes their afterlives much easier.

There's tons of guides online about how to work with your ancestors. I think sincere, unstructured prayer and a glass of water are the simplest and most powerful of offerings. A candle, if you have one. Just flipping on a lamp or a light switch if you don't.

(I travel with a little LED tealight and a mala made of skull beads carved from ox bone, but I am unnecessarily spooky and dramatic. If anything, my ancestors prefer the plain obsidian mala I first started with. But the aesthetic.)

I'm very, very informal in my ancestral practice. It still works.

Tell them you want to establish a working connection, talk to them about what's going on in your life. Keep it short and don't worry about whether or not you feel anything yet. It might take weeks before you feel something, and that's okay—discernment is, like I've said, the most important but also hardest skill, and it usually takes time and repetition. Offer them something—anything, really, and honestly the plain glass of water is traditional—and ask for their protection. They will almost certainly give it to you.

"But Flowers," you might say. "Fuck that and fuck 'em. I'm not ready to fuck with my family yet."

Alright, little one! I feel ya. It took me ages to warm up to the idea. I promise that it's worth it when you're ready, but having covered ghosts, let's move on to

GODS

Step one: ask yourself if you need to fuck around with gods in the first place.

Step two: fuck around and find out.

Step three varies depending on who you're looking for. There is a great deal of anxiety about this in occult circles, especially among people who use the term "baby witch." People are terrified of making the wrong choice. They want it to be PERFECT. They want to be correct. "Who is calling me?" ask a thousand seekers, across forums and places. "I saw a butterfly the other day. IS IT A SIGN?"

(shit, dude, I dunno, probably not, but potentially maybe. Nobody can know but you. just keep in mind that butterflies etc exist on their own and go around doing their own thing and this has absolutely nothing to do with you the vast majority of the time)

You don't need to be wait to be called by a god to offer worship and/or develop a working relationship. I would argue that most people aren't really called, and if you are, you will KNOW. Tumblr likes to say gods need consent and I think that's fucking hilarious. There is no folkloric precedent for that. If you are Called, capital letter Called, you will know, and whatever happens next is between you whatever bizarre shamanic experience you end up having, because you WILL have it, good luck.

But probably that's not the issue here! Moving on with our hypothetical.

You're not waiting around for divine intervention. You're being proactive. You're not waiting for The Call, or even a mild call. How do you choose what god you're petitioning for protection? I doubt you're entirely neutral about it. You probably have a god you identify with or just find really friggin cool. That's a fine and dandy place to start.

The working relationship need not be forever.

Which brings me to my next point. If you are absolutely undecided about what direction to go in, consider going to one of the liminal gods. Your crossroads gods, your messenger gods, often trickster gods. Your between spaces gods. Your portal opening gods.

In Santeria and Vodou, which I keep on referring back to because those are the systems I was raised in, your messenger gods get called very early on in the ritual. Why? To open the way for everybody else. There's a suggestion here that certain gods are closer or more easily reached, so if you want an opener—ask somebody with keys, yeah?

(also technically there's spirits called before then like the rhythm/dance/drums but let's not complicate things. Broadly speaking: key holding gods first)

Catholic saints wise, you've got Saint Peter, right? Santeria has Elegua. Vodou has Legba. Vodou also has the Baron as a crossroads god and yer liminal spaces god and sometimes he also has keys and hey by the way, he's really great, but where was I?

Hermes is another option. Mercury.

There's a bunch of American indigenous options I don't know enough about to confidently say.

SPEAKING of indigenous american, right, there's always Quetzalcoatl—technically—sky god, wind god, messenger god.

There's Odin and I'm actually a big fan, but the Norse magic community is often kind of garbage these days because we've got too many nazis running around, which is a shame.

My point is: there's gonna be somebody who feels close, either because of your cultural background or your aesthetic, and you might as well ask.

Settle down. Call their name. Offer water and a prayer and ask for protection, tell them what it is you want to do, ask for their help on this new life journey.

Worship isn't really complicated unless you want it to be.

Again, don't worry about "feeling" anything. Don't expect anything dramatic. Just offer something, every day or every week or whenever you have the time and headspace for it. Do the motions and mean it even a little bit and with time the rest shall come.

Because EVENTUALLY, you will feel something. It will probably be a mild sense of peace. The ritual feels calming. Something about it feels cozy. Presence is often subtle, but that counts.

Once you feel solidly good about your ritual, I would say that means you have at least some degree of protection, and it's time to wade around the swamp and see what's up. What do you do next? I dunno! I don't know what your goals are! But you have your ancestors at your back, or you're on a god team, or maybe BOTH—go explore!

Confidence isn't everything. But confidence, my friend, is a LOT. There's more to it, of course, but especially early on: fake it till you make it and dream it and you'll be it.

Best of luck, anon. <3

#ask box #occult only pls thx

[keyboard-smashed]

The Storm That's Brewing

Summary: first glance of restaurant

Warnings: food/eating mention

(first, previous & next chapters linked at bottom)

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Chapter 5- The Mind Palace

The car journey wasn’t great. Patton called shotgun, so he sat up front with Roman (who, for the record, was a terrible driver). The pair ended up singing the whole journey. Logan inquired about whether it was best for Roman to be wearing out his voice before a performance, but Sir Sing-A-Lot argued that he was warming up. Though, Virgil knew that there were better ways to warm up your voice than failing at rapping Nicki's part in Bang Bang.

That left the two less enthusiastic singers in the back trying, failing and eventually giving up on holding a regular conversation. Luckily, the car journey was pretty short- lasting only four songs (two of which Virgil, the emo he was, didn't even recognise).

From outside, the restaurant didn’t look like anything special. The white paint on the bricks was peeling and the whole place looked quite small. The door was painted dark blue, with several darker panels painted in, and white squares at the top that reminded Virgil of the TARDIS. When he walked inside the restaurant, he found out why. The place was a lot bigger, and a lot cooler, than its outside suggested.

The entire restaurant was a mix and match of seats and sofas from various film and television shows' sets all centred towards a small stage in the middle of the back wall, between two closed off rooms Virgil assumed to be the kitchen and perhaps a storage or changing room.

Immediately next to the entrance was the iconic couch and table set from Friends. There sat five girls; one of whom didn’t look completely dissimilar to Phoebe, with long blonde hair and hippie clothes. Virgil thought that perhaps it was on purpose, or maybe just a lucky coincidence. Although Virgil didn’t quite believe in coincidences. He chose instead to believe that figures, like the Fates from Greek mythology, liked to sit around and decide on fun ways to mess with Virgil.

Behind the Friends set up were four wooden tables with benches on both sides. They were relatively big; Virgil thought that with a squeeze, each bench could fit about eight people, meaning a table could seat sixteen. When the group walked a little further in, he saw four prominent, coloured banners hanging on the walls above the tables: yellow for Hufflepuff, red for Gryffindor, blue for Ravenclaw and green for Slytherin. Hanging above the tables were electronic candles. They weren’t on at that moment, but Virgil still thought they looked extremely cool, and it was a great detail to throw in.

Further back was a dark oak door. There was a sign on it, but from the distance, Virgil couldn’t make it out.

A small, dark wooden corner bar sat at the edge of the room. Over the top of the bar was a sign that said 'Puzzles'. Virgil couldn’t figure out what the bar was a reference to. To him it was, well, a puzzle. Virgil internally groaned. He’d been spending too much time with Patton.

In the centre of the room stood six circular tables with white table cloths covering them. Each table had a set of menus in the middle, accompanied with a small pink lamp on one side and a vase of (probably fake) roses. It was very cliché. Very romantic (not like Virgil would ever going with a date). Very tasteful. The whole set up gave Virgil a French vibe for some reason. Those tables definitely had the best view of the stage, but each only seated two people.

The stage itself was not very big. However, in the pretty small restaurant-café-bar-hybrid it looked bigger. It was clearly supposed to be the central point of focus. Red curtains hang open either side of the stage, although Virgil wasn’t sure if they were functional or not.

The whole place felt like someone at the movies had eaten a pick 'n mix bag of fandoms and then thrown it all up. In other words, it looked quite like their side of Virgil’s mind. The place was called 'The Mind Palace' after all.

Confirming all earlier suspicions, Roman's manager was very surprised to see him arrive early, even more so when he said he was there to help set up the stage. Turns out, they never actually put the equipment away since they had live music on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays and karaoke on Sundays. Virgil made a note in his phone about never going to the restaurant on Sundays.

With almost an hour to kill before Roman's performance, all four got a table. Well, shared a table with some strangers. The only tables left that could fit them all were the Hogwarts tables. Everyone agreed that Roman could pick the table so of course he picked Gryffindor which was the busiest.

Roman and Logan sat on one side, Logan wedged between Roman and a stranger. Roman insisted on sitting on the edge so that he could leave quickly to sing. Virgil sat on the end for the same reason, minus the singing. He also didn’t like the idea of being sardined next to a stranger. Logan wasn’t particularly fond of it either, but he knew that he’d have more space once Roman left, unlike Patton and Virgil who’d remain squished, so he didn’t complain... Much.

The menus were presented in rolled up scrolls. Virgil thought that was a nice touch. Roman informed his friends that each section of the restaurant had a specialised menu themed on what fandom they were from, except the Hogwarts section where the food was a big mix and match of everything. Roman's boss was the coolest.

Roman only ordered a drink, yet his still took the longest to order as his drink order was so unnecessarily complicated: warm milk with about one eighth of a cup of honey, a spoonful of sugar (a line that he sung, to which Virgil commented about how he really chose to be as extra as possible whenever he was given the opportunity), 3 drops of vanilla extract and several drops from a fresh lime.

The waitress sighed, "Roman, you know we don't stock any limes."

Roman smiled and threw the waitress, Mandy, a lime he brought out from his pocket. Seriously, what? Where did he get the lime from? Had he bought it before his manicure and had it in his pocket the whole time?

Mandy laughed, pocketing the lime. She continued to take their orders as if this was normal.

Mandy seemed to be used to Roman's stupid antics. If Virgil got a customer as annoying as Roman, he'd probably quit right then and there. Roman claimed the drink readied his throat for singing which was fair, except Virgil was sure plain water or milk would do fine. He was just being fussy.

The two vegetarians with glasses both ordered salads and vegetarian burgers. Logan ordered a green tea too. There was some boring reason for his choice that he'd explained to the rest, and the waitress, but Virgil had been really interested in his napkin while he was explaining and missed it.

Patton also ordered a regular burger for Virgil and hot chocolates for the both of them. Virgil had actually wanted a soda, but Patton thought a hot chocolate was more appropriate for the late hour. Virgil wasn’t going to protest.

The restaurant began to fill up in anticipation of Roman singing, but their food still came relatively quickly. It was delicious too. Everybody wolfed down their food and was finished before Roman's performance, except from Roman

"Logan, what time befalls us?" Roman asked dramatically, pointing at Logan's watch, as if he didn't have his phone in his hand.

"This watch shows the time in Greenland which I doubt would be of much use to you, however..." Logan briefly brought out his phone, "In our current time zone, the time would be four minutes to nine."

"Thanks teach." Roman said, sliding himself of of the bench. He slid his drink over to Virgil, "It's best when warm but I'm sure you'll still love it. Enjoy!"

Roman pranced off behind the bar and through a door before Virgil could protest. Virgil looked cautiously at the drink. Who knew what illness that drama queen could be hosting? Still, Virgil was curious.

He picked up the mug, discreetly warming it in his hands. Then, he sipped. Admittedly, despite being as obnoxious as it was, it was really good. Sweet enough to satisfy Virgil's sweet tooth, but not so sweet that he thought he'd have to schedule a dentist appointment straight afterwards. That lime really added a nice tang.

Virgil was brought back to attention by a gentle tap on the shoulder. Patton barely touched him, yet still received a static shock and shocked (in the less literal sense) Virgil. 

"Sorry," he whispered, "But look!"

----------

Taglist: me, myself, I

Chapter 1:

Chapter 4:

Chapter 6:

#the storm that's brewing #tstb #tstb chapter 5 #prinxiety #logicality #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #moving this fic to tumblr is driving me insane

[heroesarelife]

Could I request for a scenario/imagine of Aizawa finding out his s/o's b-day is a few days after his? Like Hizashi was asking what he was gonna do his s/o b-day. Aizawa asked why did he asked all of a sudden. Hizashi deadpan that their b-day is on the 13 November. Just 5 days after his. What would Aizawa do after knowing their b-day? Sorry if this is too self-indulgent. My b-day is at 13 November so I'm really excited and I love how close both our birthdays are since he's one of my favourites

YEEEEET HAPPY BIRTHDAY MATE! (I will cal you uuuuh 13-non? I am so not creative with anon names i’m so sorry)

I am so sorry this gotten so long omg. My preference for aizawa is showing.

Word count: 1834

Warning: Too much fluff, risk for diabetes ahead.

To describe what he was currently feeling as tired would have been an understatement.Exhaustion filled his bones and joints with surgical precision; heavy ironsattached to his ankles and wrists, weighting his every step and tampering hismovements. Any and all sensations numbed, turning them into nothing but faintexperiences, too distant to feel real. He had work to do. A lot of it. A hellof too much of it for all he was worth.

“E…ser!”

He had approximately two whole stacks of papers to grade andexactly null disposition to do so. However, such was the life of an adult. 30years old as of yesterday, no celebration allowed. With a heavy sigh, Shoutatook the first paper of the bundle, exhaling his entire soul upon seeingKaminari’s anarchist handwriting. This one promised to be a train wreck. Hecould feel the beginnings of a migraine creeping in on him; not that his friendseemed to care about making it worse.

“Oy, Eraser!”

Grunting in what could pass off as a sound ofacknowledgement, he attempted to ignore Mic’s strident voice. He couldn’t catcha break.

“Eraser, say. You have time to karaoke this weekend?”Midnight’s velvet voice reached his ear, with its ever present mischievousundertone. Aizawa failed to answer, running his eyes again through the paper.He must have made a mistake. Having a negative grade was impossible to achieve,even for one with such an outstanding capacity for failing exams as Kaminari.

“I’m saying he probably has plans for [Name]’s birthday.” Micwhined, sighing much more audibly than strictly necessary. Right there, he hadmarked one of the questions incorrectly. Not that this would help the boy’s caseovermuch. Maybe if he offered lessons… Wait just a second.

“Birthday?” Shouta finally raised his head in something of asurprise, only to squint angrily at the cigarette between Mic’s fingers. “Takeyour shitty smoking outside.”

“[Name]’s birthday is this weekend. You know, your s/o.” Notabashed in the slightest, the other hero placed the cigarette behind his own ear,seemingly happy enough with himself. “Aren’t you going to celebrate with them?”he smiled up at Shouta, somewhat wickedly, obviously having noticed that he hadforgotten. Damn it. It had completely slipped his mind. What, between thegeneral consistency of his fatigated state and his personal disregard of hisown birthday, he had failed to notice that theirs was nothing less than 5 daysaway. No, correction: 4 days away. Well, shit.

That explained why they had made a point of telling him,with all airs of importance, that they had no plans for that weekend. Despitehim not having asked them. Things suddenly clicked in his brain and he pressedhis fingers to his eyes, feeling like a dumbass. Of course they were expectingsomething. And he had forgotten.

“Hey, no worries, Eraser!” Mic’s overly excited voicestormed his eardrums, much too close for comfort, as he felt his friend’s armrest amicably on his shoulders. “You still have 4 days to think of something.”

“Shut up.”

—-

The light is what wakes them up. Eyelids fluttering gentlyopen, they look around in confusion, still slightly lost on the dense mist ofsleep. The telltale way in which the sunlight filtered through the room, withalmost devastating clarity, gave away exactly how much they had overslept. Itshould be almost noon at that point. All heavy limbs and fuzzy mind, theystretch languidly, revelling on the soft feel of the sheets tangled aroundtheir body. Trying to pretend the absence of Shouta didn’t bring sadness totheir heart.

Because it did, more than what they cared to admit. Thespace besides them was empty and cold, which by itself felt like a ratherlonely birthday gift. Shouta probably left for work, on a Saturday of all days.At this point, they were convinced that he had forgotten. They could all buthear their own heart breaking just by remembering last night. How they hadwaited awake, because they enjoyed to just wait for the clock to turn midnightso they could just welcome their special day. And how Shouta had arrived frompatrol shortly after, only to promptly collapse in bed, absolutely oblivious asfor what reason his s/o would be excited at such a late hour. Not even a modest‘happy birthday’ before falling into a deep slumber. Nothing.

Already drained of all the possible excitement they mighthave felt for the day to come, they get up slowly, staggering into the livingroom in a daze. At the exact same time as Shouta came in through the front door.He scoffed in half amusement, apparently finding something funny in their dishevelledappearance. “Sleeping much? Sit you down, sleepyhead. I will press some coffeefor you.” He jested through his customary sarcastic demeanour.

Huffing irritably, they sat down on the couch, tellingthemselves that it was absolutely notbecause he told them to, but rather because they still felt just too dizzy fromexcess of sleep. Yes, that was it. As it was, they almost jumped out of theirskin when something suddenly fell unceremoniously onto their lap. A small box.

They looked up at the culprit, namely Shouta, who was nowplacing a hot mug of coffee on the side table, looking as unfazed as always.Feeling their hearts swell with renewed and bright hope, they opened the smallgift. Inside there was the new album of one of their favourite bands, accompaniedby a sweet note signed with the flashy handwriting unmistakably belonging toPresent Mic. The disappointment was so strong that they could swear they heardthey heart die a little bit, almost like a wounded animal attacked by surpriseby a hunter in the woods. Fatal injury. It wasn’t Shouta’s. He had trulyforgotten.

“It’s from Hizashi” their boyfriend explained, rather unnecessarily.Acquiescing silently, they bit down their lower lip, fighting back the sillytears that threatened to spill. It’s not that they weren’t glad with Hizashi’s thoughtfulgift – it’s true that they had been blabbing about that musician nonstop forthe last few months – but it hurt them so to know their own boyfriend would soblatantly overlook their birthday. And he must know at this point, surely. But the cold disregard and lack of acknowledgementfelt a bit much at this point. They sniffed, lightly but still more audiblythan they had intended, and they heard Shouta clicking his tongue, as a clearshow of his own discomfort.

They heard the shuffling sound of clothes and the faintingsteps as Shouta walked away. Well, great. The day was going downhill barely 30minutes since waking up. It was a talent of theirs, apparently. Maybe they shouldput it on their CV and get a job as a day-destroyer, as they were clearly inwrong profession.

Absorbed in their thought, they didn’t hear he come back,and were snapped out of their thoughts by the deep sound of his voice. “I alsodon’t have any plans for the weekend.” Even through their upset haze, hesounded a bit awkward.

Surprised, they raised their eyes to meet his, not quiteunderstanding where this was going. He was sitting on the couch’s armrest.Close enough to be touched if they so much desired, while still giving themenough breathing space. He placed his hand behind his neck, scratching the areaas if in embarrassment, somehow managing to further mess his already sloppylocks.

“What I mean is…” he went on, taking a deep breath as iflooking to gather himself. “I took the weekend off. To spend with you.”

It took some seconds for the information to sink in. Theirheart behaving wearily in fear of further disappointment. But this was a verbaladmission. He had freed his days, to spend only with them.

“So we can do whatever you like. I know it’s not ideal andnothing much but—”

“You remembered.” They croaked, stupidly emotional over thesimple conclusion. Shouta’s eyes widened, and pressed his lips together,letting his hand drop to his lap in some sort of defeat.

“I had… In truth, I had forgotten. Hizashi reminded me.” Headmitted, voice dropping ever-so-slightly to what could be described as anabashed tone. “I’m sorry. I—” He was suddenly interrupted by a soft and muffled‘meow’ which came from some location within his person.

Their mouth fell open, in an almost comical surprise. “Isthat a…?”

Had they not known any better, they would have sworn that thechange of tone in his cheeks was that of an embarrassed flush. However, Shoutamost certainly didn’t do blushing, so it was probably a result of roomtemperature. Right? Right. Despite that, their boyfriend reached somewhereinside the coat he was wearing, revealing the most cute, fluffy, and small kittenthey had ever laid their eyes upon.

Unable to suppress an enthusiastic squeak, as well as thebeautiful warm feeling that began to spread through their heart and stomach,they stretched their hands eagerly, receiving the little thing with carefuladoration. The kitten blinked lazily, apparently confused with the change ofenvironment, rolling over on their palm carelessly and proceeding to adorably pawtheir finger. It had a black and silky fur, and was wearing a loose red ribbonaround its neck, almost as if it was placed there in an afterthought.

“That’s why I left earlier. You said you wanted one for sometime now. And Kayama has a friend whose cat just had a litter and, well, Ithought you would like.” He trailed off, noticing they were barely paying himany mind.

“But… You said you were too busy to care for one.” Theysaid, feeling their heart twist painfully at the mere thought of having toreturn the lovely creature. They loved it already. “Or would I take it to myhouse? You can maybe visit it sometimes? Or it stays here and I will visit itsometimes?”

“That won’t be a problem if you move in.” He put in, withappalling simplicity, as if answering that obviously the sum of two plus twoequals four. Not as if he had just invited his long term partner to live together.They felt their heart stop, the air leaving their lungs altogether.

“Do you mean this?” They said quietly, emotion taking overtheir soul in strong waves as the kitten bit at their thumb softly.

He nodded, a rare gentle smile touching hislips. “Yes, I do. If you will have me. No don’t.” He added in mild panic, asthe tears threatened to spill down their eyes. He closed the space between themboth, wrapping his arm around their shoulder, allowing them to bury their faceon the crook of his neck as they tried to regain control. “Happy birthday,[Name].” He said lamely, sounding mildly afraid to cause another emotionalburst. But they knew now: he meant it.

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#aizawa shouta #aizawa shota #shouta aizawa #bnha imagines #bnha scenario #scenarios #bnha imagine #original content #bnha #mha #imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa x reader #reader x aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #reader x aizawa shouta #sfw #fluff #I SWEAR MY SCENARIOS FORM NOW ON WILL HAVE AT LEAST 1000 WORDS #13-non #i claim poetic freedom with some word choices leave me be #amethyst #amethyst scenarios