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hes-writer · 4 years ago

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Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now, suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #Harry styles fan fic #Harry styles fanfiction

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ellewritesathing · 3 years ago

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Yet So Far Part 3

Summary: the slowest slow-burn in the history of childhood bestfriends to lovers. rewrite of my other teen wolf fic so close!

Wordcount: 3.6k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: i just want to thank everyone who’s been interacting with this story so far. you’re all so sweet and the reason i love writing 💕 happy reading!!

With Isaac missing and Scott and Stiles still avoiding you, you figured it was time to start making new friends.

Lydia and Allison were obvious choices - Allison because she knew how much being the new kid sucked, and Lydia because she was curious. Or maybe it was because not a lot of people wanted to hang out with someone whose aunt was a mass murderer or the girl who took a naked hike in the woods less than a month ago. Neither of those things was what made the lunch awkward - the awkwardness was because you felt like a third wheel. Allison would peel an orange and give Lydia the first slice; Lydia moved hairs out of Allison’s face or picked pieces of lint off her clothes. Every moment screamed that they'd been friends long before you showed up, and they'd be friends long after you were gone.

Even when Scott and Stiles weren’t being weirdly quiet around you or un-subtlety changing the subject whenever you got too close, you ran into the same problem: they were best friends, you were barely a friend. You were the third wheel.

After deciding that friendship just wasn’t in the cards for you, you found Erica battling it out with one of the vending machines in the cafeteria. She needed something to eat so she could take her meds, and you happened to be the resident expert at banging your fist on the side of vending machines to get food to drop to the bottom. Maybe it was the fact that she was alone that first day, but the two of you became fast friends. She didn’t care that you were Scott’s sister or the new kid and you didn’t care that she was always teetering on the brink of some kind of emergency. Plus, she hated the green Sour Patch Kids which meant that your favorites were always safe.

Looking at her now, trembling slightly in her oversized gym uniform, it was hard for you to remember why you hadn’t been friends before you left. It felt like you'd known her all your life.

“Stilinski! Erica!” Finstock’s voice echoed through the gym as he crossed something off his clipboard. “Let’s go!” He blew his whistle to punctuate his sentence before adding, in a tone you couldn’t describe as anything other than sinister, “The wall.”

Ignoring the ringing in your ears, you slipped off your jacket and handed it to Erica. “Don’t worry about it - you’ve got this. And I’ll be right here after you’ve crushed it.”

You gave her one last smile as she put on your jacket and Coach yelled at her to hurry up. Whatever sense of calm she’d had dried up after that - she was anxious as she put on the climbing gear and a wreck when she tried the wall. It didn’t help that Stiles was already at the top within a few seconds and everyone else was making fun of her.

There wasn’t much you could do while she was stuck, but you started running after her as she rushed out of the gym. She ripped her arm out of one sleeve of your jacket when you eventually got to her, but she wouldn’t listen to you.

“Just forget about it, okay?” Erica snapped. “I’m late for a doctor’s appointment anyway.”

The last thing you saw was her tugging the end of your jacket through the doors after they closed on it. Coach grabbed your arm before you could go after her.

“And where the hell do you think you’re going-” He paused to squint at the name on your shirt “-McCall?” Finstock looked around to glare at Scott. “McCall? There’s two of you now?” You were about to respond when he kept talking: “You know what? Doesn’t matter. You’re climbing the wall with Jackson.”

Despite all your arguing, Finstock dragged you over to the wall and dropped you in front of possibly the most perfect person you’d ever seen. His eyes were bright blue, he had prominent cheekbones, his hair looked like it had been styled less than ten minutes ago - even his posture was perfect. For a moment, you were so stunned that it was quiet enough to hear Finstock mumbling about how he doesn’t get paid enough.

All those things seemed trivial in comparison to the perfect smile he gave you as he stepped closer to you. “I don’t think we’ve met, and I would have remembered someone as pretty as you.” He let out a short laugh, feigning nervousness and looking at the gear in his hands. “I’m Jackson Whittemore.”

---

McCall Me Maybe > erica Thursday, March 2 11:27, PST

McCall Me Maybe: hey, you doing okay?

McCall Me Maybe: i think i twisted my ankle on that stupid wall. no one even remembers your climb after the way i bailed

Read @11:43 PST

---

Jackson was a Grade A asshole - Stiles knew it, Scott knew it, everyone knew it. Except you. No, you were too busy laughing at his jokes while he brushed his arm against yours to notice the little flecks of evil in his eyes. He was too busy looking at your schedule and giving you little tips on how to stay on Harrison’s good side to reveal himself as the smug, repugnant jerk he really was. Stiles bit off about a quarter of his apple as he watched the two of you.

“What the hell is he doing anyway?” Stiles asked, doing his best not to choke as he pointed to your table. “It’s like his plan with Allison didn’t work so now he’s trying the same thing with your sister.”

“That’s … exactly what he’s doing.” Scott looked over his shoulder at you and sighed. He scrunched his face up like someone had just hit him in the stomach. “I’ve been listening to them ever since he sat down.”

Stiles leaned over the table and smacked Scott’s arm. “And you didn’t tell me? It’s like you want me to have a stroke! Okay, he’s getting up. He’s walking away. He’s … I gotta go.” Stiles shot Scott a look that he hoped told him not to listen to your conversation before clambering over to your lunch table.

You watched him carefully as he settled into his seat, which only made Stiles more awkward as moved around. “You okay?” you asked, sounding more amused than concerned as you leaned a little closer.

“Why would you ask me that? I’m fine. Don’t I seem fine?” Stiles chugged some of his water and you laughed. The sound of it relaxed him, and he really wished Scott wasn’t listening now. “Uh, I gotta tell you something.”

The laughter faded and that familiar small crease settled between your eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” You leaned closer to him now, getting ready for him to share something monumental.

Instead, Stiles shared something monumentally stupid. “You can’t talk to Jackson.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t talk to Jackson, please.”

The laughter wasn’t relaxing this time - it was trite. You leaned back in your seat and looked up at the ceiling before doubling back with the most irritated look Stiles had seen since you’d been back. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Stilinski.” It didn’t sound like a good thing when you said it like that. “For someone who doesn’t seem to want to spend any actual time with me himself, you’ve sure got a lot of rules for who I can and can’t speak to.”

“Are you still pissed about the Isaac thing? Look, if I’d known he was gonna run away, I would have taken you to see him!” Hopefully, you’d write off his higher voice as nervousness and not the total lie that it actually was.

“Stiles, it’s not just about the Isaac thing. I saw more of you and Scott when I lived across the country.” You sighed and stabbed a piece of melon with your fork, annoyance giving way to something a lot more vulnerable than Stiles expected. “Making friends is hard enough when your brother’s not avoiding you too.”

“Things have been … really, unbelievably complicated these past few weeks.” Stiles leaned in closer and drummed his fingers on the table lightly. Guilt burned a hole in his stomach. He hated that you thought he and Scott didn't want to spend time with you. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

You gave him a small smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. Both of you knew that Stiles shouldn't have had to talk to Scott about it - they should have just been there for you. “Thank you,” you said anyway. You sighed and shook your head. “And you can relax, okay? Jackson’s not even my type.”

Stiles blinked a few times as you ate the unfortunate piece of melon. “But Jackson’s everyone’s type.”

You laughed again, sounding less irritated but also less amused than before. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he thinks so, too.”

It felt like the world was moving in slow motion as Stiles took in your words. He didn’t know anyone could survive a full-frontal assault of Jackson’s charms. The guy had been genuinely nice to you - nicer than he'd ever been to Lydia. Jackson carried your books, waited in line with you, helped you up the climbing wall. He'd done everything except tie your shoes for you, and you didn’t seem to care about any of it.

Maybe, just maybe there was hope for Stiles yet.

“So, uh, you have a type?” Stiles asked. He’d stopped drumming on the table in favor of picking at his cuticles, and he looked up long enough to see that amused smile appear on your face again.

---

McCall Me Maybe > Good Trouble Reyes Thursday, March 2 22:26, PST

McCall Me Maybe: erica, i'm really worried about you. let me know how you're doing, okay?

Good Trouble Reyes: i'm better than ever

---

Beacon Hills was exhausting.

You had half a semester’s worth of schoolwork to catch up on, all of your friends mysteriously disappeared within a week of you getting to know them, and despite the promises that they’d spend time with you, Scott and Stiles were still nowhere to be seen. You scrubbed off all the annoyance to the best of your abilities in the shower, so now you were hoping that a pint of ice cream and old cartoons would fix what was left. You were about to fall asleep when a sound at the window made your heart beat out of your chest.

Every self-defense drill you’d ever done flashed through your mind before you realized that it wasn’t some predator outside your door. It was Isaac. Scared, anxious Isaac, with hair wet from the rain and eyes flicking between you, the door, and the window. All you wanted was to let him in, but you promised Stiles you wouldn’t talk to him.

Technically, you only promised not to speak to him if he was in jail. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you pried the old window open just enough to speak to him.

“You know you’re a wanted felon, right?” you whispered angrily, as if being quiet now would negate the creaking of the window. “I should call the cops on you.”

“Please don’t.” Isaac put his hand under the window to push it up, but he stopped when his fingers curled around the frame. He didn’t want to come inside if you didn’t want him there. “I just wanted to explain. You know I’d never hurt my dad. Please, just … just let me explain?”

You took a deep breath, trying your best to ignore the memory of Stiles telling you to stay away from Isaac. Instead, you focused on Isaac: his lips were a faint blue, his jacket soaked through, and his knuckles were turning white from how tightly he gripped the frame. You took a step back, closed the door, and helped him open the window. If you were going to hell, you were at least going to do it with the whole story.

“Tell me what happened.”

It was a long story, starting before you left Beacon Hills with his first broken bone and still unfinished as he picked at the skin on his wrist. Isaac told you that he thought his dad was doing better, that he was changing, but that he messed it up by not getting a good enough grade in chemistry. You’d heard some version of this part every few weeks when you were younger, and it always made your blood boil. Isaac didn’t deserve what his dad did to him. The only thing you couldn’t figure out was if his dad threw a glass at his face, why wasn’t there a scratch on him?

“When I eventually got back, he was gone.” Isaac looked up from the thread on your carpet that he’d started unraveling when he made his wrist bleed. He sighed and shook his head. “And since then things have just been so … complicated. I don’t know. I- I’m different now. Innocent, but different. And I can’t explain it right now but, please, trust me on this.”

You took a deep breath as you tried to make sense of it all. Of course, you trusted Isaac - he was your best friend - but there were too many things that didn’t make sense. “How did you get out of jail?”

Isaac looked at the floor again. He lifted his hand and let it fall back down to his knee. “I had help.”

“Are you going to tell me who helped you?”

“I can’t right now, but I promise that the second I can … I’ll tell you everything.”

Isaac looked at you with his big blue eyes - the same eyes he gave you when he forgot to do his homework or when he wanted to come over to your house instead of going home. It was quiet for a long time as he looked at you and you thought it over.

After an impossibly long time, you asked, “Do you … want to stay?”

Isaac blinked and tilted his head. “Are you sure?” He pulled his legs closer to his chest and straightened his head again. He must have expected you to yell at him or tell him off - Isaac never expected anyone to forgive him.

You smiled and held out a hand to him as you got up. “I’m sure.” You helped Isaac to his feet and pulled the trundle bed that still sported Hunger Games sheets. “Just like old times.”

“Just like old times,” Isaac repeated, more to himself than to you. Still, he smiled when he caught your eye again.

One stolen pair of Scott’s pajamas later, the two of you were settled into your respective beds. It was almost unnervingly quiet as you settled in for the night, but there was something comforting about knowing that Isaac was okay, even if he couldn’t tell you everything right now. If it was Isaac, you knew whatever he was hiding couldn't be that bad. You rolled over to the edge of your bed to tell him that when your heart stopped.

His eyes were glowing.

There was nothing in the room that could have made the light reflect on his eyes, and yet his eyes were an eerily familiar golden color. When he noticed you staring, he smiled again and you could have sworn he had fangs.

“Hey,” he said quietly, reaching a hand up to find yours, “thanks for this.”

You did your best to block out the memories of snarling teeth and dangerous claws as you mustered up a smile. Isaac wasn’t Emily. You were safe. “Of course.” You meant to sound more sure of yourself; you didn’t mean to whisper. “Goodnight, Isaac.”

You pulled your hand away from him and towards your chest before he’d gotten out his goodnight. You slid your left hand up your right sleeve, feeling for the familiar fading scar from three full moons ago.

---

Good Trouble Reyes > McCall Me Maybe Friday, 3 March 15:47, PST

Good Trouble Reyes : i have a surprise for you.

McCall Me Maybe: more words pls??

Good Trouble Reyes : what are you doing tonight?

McCall Me Maybe: that depends on your surprise

Good Trouble Reyes : boo you suck

[Good Trouble Reyes shared a location]

Good Trouble Reyes : meet me and isaac here at seven

---

All his life, Stiles had loved figuring out puzzles. He loved figuring out the gray zones, teasing out the truth from all the lies, figuring out which version of the truth was actually true. He was good at it. He could see through people to focus on their motives, an ability that let him see things that others didn’t. Even with his ability to x-ray intentions, Stiles couldn’t really understand anyone other than Scott.

The thing that most people overlooked about Stiles was that he fundamentally didn’t get other people. He could find what made them tick, know their biggest fears from when they were seven, track down the book they loved at the school book fair yet couldn't remember the name of, but Stiles still didn’t understand feelings. He wanted more objectivity, less subjectivity. More truth, less lies.

Take you, as a completely and totally random example: you’d been complaining about feeling left out, so he invited you to their ice skating hang (date? get together? Stiles wasn’t sure what the label was), but you said you had other plans. What those mysterious plans were, you didn’t say.

Truth: You had been curled in an armchair for half an hour, badly trying to hide the smile that followed every text that lit up your phone.

Lie: Stiles didn’t care that you wouldn’t tell him your plans.

“Come on.” Stiles reached over the armrest of the couch to grab your phone out of your hand, but you curled into the armchair and put yourself safely out of his reach. “Who are you texting anyway?”

“It’s not important,” you said, pulling the phone closer to your chest as you locked it. Your smile said that it was important, and Stiles resisted the urge to groan as he followed you over to the fireplace.

“You have to come with us.”

“And be a fifth wheel? I think I’ll pass.”

Stiles couldn’t resist anymore; he let out a dramatic noise (somewhere between a groan and a sigh) and let his arms flail by his side. “It’s not like that. It’s just, you know, Scott and Allison … and me … and Lydia …” His words stretched out more as he spoke, biding his time until he got to a point.

“Right. Lydia.” You crossed your arms over your chest, phone poking out barely from the crook in your elbow, as you tilted your head, bit the inside of your lip, and bounced your leg as you pretended to think. “She’s the one you’ve been in love with since you were nine years old, right?”

Stiles started sputtering an answer, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the phone lighting up in your hand. Just as he was about to say something useful, the lighting up gave way to a phone call.

Lydia Martin flashed across the screen and you took a few steps, holding out your index finger to tell him to wait, before answering. You tilted your head as you listened to Lydia’s bubblegum voice.

He knew he should wait, but Stiles hated waiting even more than he hated silence. “Is that Lydia?” Stiles rushed out. “Is she talking about me?”

Your ever-patient face contorted as you rolled your eyes and shooed him away with your free hand. “You won’t be by yourself,” you said, drawing out the words as you turned on your heel for more privacy. “You’ve got Scott and Allison … plus, Stiles will be there. And it’ll totally help you get over the whole Jackson thing.”

Stiles followed dutifully behind you, eyes catching on the place where your sleeve rolled up. A scar etched its way over your arm, smooth and jagged. Not the kind of scar you got when you go to art school. Whatever Lydia said next, it made you smile in that contradicting way, and Stiles forgot about the scar.

“While that’s definitely an interesting offer-” You let out a breath and shrugged “-I’ve got plans. Sorry, Lyd. Have fun!”

Before Lydia could start her five-point argument, you hung up. The important unimportant smile still lingered, but Scott came down the stairs before Stiles had the chance to pry.

Scott’s smile wasn’t secretive - nothing about him was. Scott’s smile was dopey, youthful, full of love for a girl that was going to leave him completely, utterly screwed. “So, you coming?”

“Yes,” Stiles answered at the same time you said: “No. Sorry.”

Scott’s dopey smile faltered for a second and he frowned. He met you halfway with an uncertain Scott McCall smile. “Well if you’re coming, we’ve got to get going.”

You gave him another McCall smile as you walked over and fixed his shirt. The smile was softer when you did it, secretive, more important. “Have fun, losers.” You kissed his cheek and walked away. “See you around.”

People were confusing. Stiles preferred evidence, connecting dots, black and white. He was tired of living in the grey areas. He wanted clear answers. He wanted to know who made your phone light up.

Truth: There was someone Stiles had been in love with since he was nine years old.

Lie: That someone was Lydia Martin.

Part 4

Tagged: @padsfirewhisky @good-vibes-and-glitter @ietss @used-avocado @trustfundparker @lilipho @milfslover101

#yet so far #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #mccall!reader #stiles stilinski #stiles slow burn #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader

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just-a-creep-babe · 4 years ago

Note

I'm back?? Creeps with a really go with the flow, devil-may-care, Not afraid of death, Chill SO? [EX: *meets creeps* Wow, okay, this is my life now I guess. || Same stuff as always! *helps hide body* || You wanna fly into the Bermuda triangle and live to stream it? Heck yeah, she'll bring spicy sour patch kids. || Don't worry! I'm still in shock! Can't feel a thing! || '*does something stupid* we survived? Brilliant. Love it when that happens. ] Thanks!♡

~Requests are closed but commissions are open~

Masterlist: x

Slenderman

Jfc—why?

He’s already worried about litcherally everyone else in the mansion, now you too?

He is Quite Concerned™️

Lowkey more concerned for you over the others but that’s a given tbh

Honestly questions how tf you’ve manage to make it this far without dying

He makes it his personal mission to keep you safe at all costs—no matter what

So on the bright side, you sort of inherit this ancient eldritch being as a personal bodyguard!

But on the not-so bright side, said being just doesn’t let ya have any fun around here >:/

Will physically restrain you from doing something stupid so you don’t get caught up in anything dangerous

Starts considering giving you a curfew or smthg because even he can’t keep up with the stuff you get pulled into

But he respects you too much for that, ofc, so he just begrudgingly accepts that you’ll keep doing you—no matter how irresponsible or dangerous it might be :”)

Still loves you despite the heart attacks you nearly put him through every other day :)

Jeff the Killer

This 👏mans 👏will 👏love 👏you 👏forever 👏

At first, admittedly, he’s a teensy bit put off by your nonchalance because how can someone actually be that laid back all the time??

But once he adjusts to it & realizes that you aren’t, in fact, faking it for whatever reason, he’ll be completely & utterly enamored with you

Like,, he can do a bunch of stupid shit & drag you along into it & you won’t freak out??

Sign 👏him 👏up 👏

Loves not having to worry about you sanity tbh—there’s no need to hide all the dangerous crap he does because he knows you won’t worry ^^

And homeboy most definitely will take advantage of your go-with-the-flow nature

He’s got a taste for danger & doing stupid shit—how could he not bring you along with him?

If/when y’all get caught & put in trouble tho, he’ll take the blame so that you don’t suffer for something that was most likely his idea

Jeff? Doing the right thing? It may be more likely than you think 🤔

It still sometimes unnerves him just how chill you are with everything, but hey, he can’t let you outdo him in badass-ness, so he’s guaranteed to incite plenty of chaos to prove himself; it’s bound to be an exciting time uwu

BEN Drowned

Oh he is sO down

One of the perks of being dead? He probably can’t die again

So there are absolutely no limits to the insane shenanigans he’s willing to pull off

The fact that you’re just as down to clown makes thing so much better

It gets to the point where someone constantly needs to keep an eye on the both of you so you don’t accidentally end up dying

Cause BEN (and bless his soggy soul) as much as he loves you, tends to forget how fragile human beings can be

So it’s up to the others to make sure your lack of self-preservation doesn’t get you killed

But your fearlessness & nonchalance is like a breath of fresh air!

Things can get a teensy bit boring when you’re immortal, so he’s more than happy to have a badass s/o by his side who’s down for pretty much anything uwu

Y’all get into a bunch of stupid, dangerous & probably illegal shit—but he wouldn’t want it any other way 😘

Eyeless Jack

Similar to Slendaddy, this mans is Concerned™️

He will constantly check you over to see if you need to get patched up because he knows you’re a danger magnet

But at the same time, he doesn’t wanna be too overbearing

Like he definitely has this live & let live mentally (prolly in part due to his diet) so he‘ll try not to bring up too often how nervous he is about your safety & well-being

You’ve accepted him as he is, part demon and all, so he feels like he owes you the same

Even if it does scare the shit out of him because my god what have you gotten yourself into this time??

He’s kinda like a worried mom tbh—he’ll pack you up a lunch & send you off with a “be safe, don’t do anything dangerous, say no to drugs,” and stuff, even despite knowing you probably won’t listen

Homeboy just wants you to grow & experience the world for yourself :”)

Still, he’ll ask the others to keep an eye out for you & to not put you in too much danger

And he’ll totally sometimes follow you from the shadows just to make sure you’re staying safe skdjsjdlsjl

He’s a protective demon boi, what can I say? :)

Masky

He’s,,,, pretty impressed actually

Thinks your nonchalant attitude is kinda badass

Of course he still gets worried, but he’s also prone to forgetting how fragile most people are

His pain tolerance is pretty dang high, so he doesn’t always realize certain things can hurt normal people. Badly

He’ll feel super bad if you get injured with him, but at least homeboy will try to make it up by giving you plenty of sweets & cuddles uwu

He might try to give you a stern talking-to so that you’re more careful, but he knows it won’t stop you from being you

Still, overall, he thinks it’s pretty sweet that you’re down for, like, anything

Will probably wanna take you with him for jobs sometimes—just cause he can & it probably won’t traumatize you too bad :>

Just don’t tell slender

Thinks his bold little s/o is damn cool & lowkey brags abt you all the time uwu

Hoodie

He thinks it’s pretty funny lmfaoo

Is torn between being worried & wanting you safe while also desperately wanting to just be like “fuck it” and do a bunch of stupid shit with you :”)

Will probably take advantage of how you don’t worry much to tag you along in his shenanigans

But at least he’ll make your safety & comfort his utmost top priority uwu

Honestly, he admires how chill you are with shit that’s pretty traumatizing—it’s almost funny that you’re just as brave as he is, considering his line of work and all

It’s,, kinda intriguing to him; homeboy will maybe wanna psychoanalyze you a lil 👀👉👈

You’re just so interesting, he can’t help but be a smidge fascinated 👁👄👁

Really wants to be able to make some good, wild memories with you <3

He’s honestly the perfect balance of protective & adventurous at the same time

Just wants to please his little s/o and keep them safe & happy while fulfilling their need for wild shenanigans :>

Ticci Toby

Oh boy

He is the same

Together, y’all are chaotic af

The creeps know not to leave you unsupervised because shit will go down

The utmost chaotic duo in need of constant watching over & patching up ngl 😅

Seriously, the others are damn near always worried about babysitting you two because you’re both danger magnets

And it doesn’t help that Toby has no concept of danger and/or pain

He’ll try to be super sympathetic if/when you do get injured, but poor boy will be clueless af as to how to help

So more often than not, he’ll end up using himself as a human shield to protect you from danger to make up for it

Either way, y’all get into so much shit, it’s unbelievable

Kinda perfect together but like,, in the worst of ways lmfaooo

#creepypasta #slenderman #Ben drowned #Jeff the killer #creepypasta x reader #masky #hoodie #Ticci Toby

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years ago

Text

Demon!Dimitrescux Reader

Synopsis: Lady Dimitrescu reveals herself as a demon that has made it her personal mission to guard you after what you believe is the case of worst/best timing of your entire life. No trigger warnings. 1.6k words.

A/N: This took me less than two hours to write/publish this. I needed this out of my system ASAP

The black Toyota Corolla had to look strangely familiar your first pass down the street. It reminded you of your boyfriend’s car, and you swore that the digits of the license plate must have been one or two off his, and the generic pine tree air freshener must have been a different color. Not to mention the woman in the backseat with a cocktail dress on.

You chose not to think about it as you walked into the 7-11 in nothing but your pajamas and the pair of crocs you haven’t worn since being on the college swim team. It wasn’t hard to decide what to grab off the shelves. A bag of chips store brand sour patch kids and gummy worms, a two-liter of Pepsi, and a bottle of wine too big for one person. The cashier looked just as tired as you did, and you understood what it was like, barely, time is a social construct that distanced you deeply from the night shifts you pulled at this same store while in college. Nine to five shifts (Dolly Parton shifts, your coworker would call them with a smile) were only better because you could sit down and have a stable sleep schedule. It was the same grueling work, and in your case, you had to deal with the same shitty people that complained about things you can’t control.

His droning voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. “The total is forty-eight fifty-seven.” He was either crying in the backroom while you were picking out your chips or hit a massive dab, you weren’t sure, but his red eyes made either option feasible. You didn’t comment on it, only handing him two twenties and a ten and taking the change back before walking out the door. You didn’t say anything to him, and vice versa, which you appreciated because you didn’t have the energy to deal with a chatty Kathy right now. And as you pull yourself down the street, your bag of crap from 7-11 in your hand, you pass that same deja-vu-mobile and look at the stickers on the back.

The same I love my dog and proud cat-dad stickers in the exact same place, the dent on the right side of the bumper, and the license plate that was in fact, one hundred percent his. Which begs the question, who was the girl in the cocktail dress, and what was she doing in the backseat? The question didn’t matter for long because the car promptly burst into flames. Oh well. Wait.

The.

Car.

Is.

On.

Fire.

It’s your boyfriend’s car.

Your

Boyfriends.

Car.

Is.

On.

Fire.

You wipe out your phone to call the fire department when you see the girl in the same cocktail dress crawl out of the car, dress pulled up to her waist, barefoot and mascara streaming down her face. She’s violently beating his clutch against the ground, desperate to put out the flames while your boyfriend slams the door open on the other side and throws himself out full force onto the asphalt of the busy street. He looks up and sees the anger in your eyes.

“Hey, babe.”

“I-I-can-” he stutters violently. His face was red in anger and blood dripping from his nose due to the face-first collision with the freshly paved street.

“We’re over.”

You do him the favor of calling the fire department for his car and walk off as soon as you hear the sirens of the firetruck. You didn’t have anything to do with it. No need to watch the fallout when you had nothing to do with the disaster. Besides, your soda’s getting cold, you wanted to drink that before it got Luke-warm. You ended up dropping off the crap and walking to the 24-7 grocery store a little farther in the other direction to get ice cream. Standing in the frozen aisle, in nothing but your pajamas, bright red crocs, and moist eyes, you try and decide between the weird, nuanced flavors that all taste like vanilla anyhow.

You look up towards the top shelf when you notice the woman leaning over you. She’s deathly pale, skin as pale as paper and lipstick so red it glowed compared to everything else. Her huge hat would make a shadow on her face if it weren’t propped right above her hairline.

“So, did you enjoy the show sweet-heart,” she whispers in your ear. You feel her breath on your neck and her gaze freezes your heart. “You didn’t think that his car catching on fire was a happy accident now did you?”

You turn around, only not to see her behind you, but on the fogged-up glass doors on the other side of the aisle. “Did you really think that I’d be standing right behind you?” Her question is almost taunting.

“Who are you?”

She breathes into her elegant pipe only to blow out to re-fog the glass before staring dead into your eyes and saying the words that changed your life forever. “I’m your guardian demon.”

You honestly thought you were losing your mind, seeing this woman in the glass, telling you she was a demon who set your ex’s car on fire. (It felt odd to call him that, you had been dating him for three years). Her elegant leg steps through the glass, her dress riding up to just below her knee before it hit the ground and the rest of her flowed into our realm as smoothly as her dress swayed when she walked over to you.

She was almost twice your height, and the view from where she stood in front of you made her feel even more so tall. “So mortal, what do you have to say, knowing that you have a five-hundred-year-old all-powerful demon protecting you?”

“What happened to my guardian angel?”

She scoffs. “You never had one. Most people nowadays have guardian angels, in fact, I’ve only heard of one other mortal who hasn’t had one that’s alive right now.”

“What do you mean?” You can’t help but ask. There’s an entire world of things you didn’t understand. Angels. Demons. Hell, even bigfoot could be real for all you know.

“Well, darling, there is a very simple answer to that question: there are only so many angels for so many mortals, and so sometimes a few slip through the cracks of the system, and that’s where we step in.” She moves around to the refrigerator next to you and inspects the sorbets. “Despite what the church tells you, us demons love humans. They’re a claim to social status. You bring a human home, and you’re viewed as wealthy, famous even.”

“So that’s what you get out of taking a person’s soul in a deal.”

She turns to you. “When I what now?”

“Ya’ know,” you say, “a person makes a deal with a demon in exchange for money or fame, and when they die their soul belongs to the demon and they’re doomed to eternal hell yada-yada-yada.”

“Is that what they’re teaching you, now.”

“At least that’s what my mother says. I didn’t really believe in any of this stuff till you stepped out of the door and said you set my ex’s car on fire.”

“I would have done it sooner, but you looked so happy with him, it was difficult to pull that away from you,” she sighs before standing up to her full height, “that woman he was with was going to give you HPV and I’d prefer the human I fought tooth and nail over to not get an STD. I would never have let that stupid-man-thing touch you had I known he would cheat on you with a mortal so… infected.” What an interesting word to decide to land on.

She turns and waltzes back across the aisle with a grace that has long been lost to time. “And besides, you’re better off without him, with him off your mind you’ll be able to take that new project on at work and get that raise you’ve been needing so badly.”

You’re still trying to process this. “You mentioned that you only heard of one other mortal with a demon guardian. Who is he?”

“His name doesn’t matter, all I really care about is that damn man-child, Heisenberg, is watching him, which means he won’t be alive much longer.”

“Do you kill us?”

She puts her hand to her chest and looks genuinely offended before her features soften when she realizes you had never met a demon in your entire life not to mention even believing in them. “We would never. Our humans are like our children, and while we may not be able to subtle pull strings to protect those that we watch over, we do have our more… direct ways of protecting them.”

“Like setting his car on fire.”

“I’ve done worse things to keep you safe.”

Your face pales, but your curiosity brightens your eyes. “Like what?”

“Your so demand, child, but remember when lightning struck the tree in your backyard, and it fell and landed on your neighbor fifteen or so years ago?”

You can’t formulate words.

“Or how your car broke down on the side of the road so you couldn’t reach the hotel you booked?”

“You did that!”

“They were going to steal your luggage!” She scoffs before taking a long drag from her pipe. “Anymore, questions?”

“Is Jesus real?”

“I wasn’t there for that, and if he was, he hasn’t left his fluffy little sky bed since being nailed to that goddamn cross.”

“One more.”

“It better not be stupid, darling.”

“What ice cream should I get?”

Her soft smile returns. “Get the java-chip, but the one right behind the front one, there’s a little extra than usual in that container.”

#lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu x reader #demon dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil x reader

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softyoongiionly · 5 years ago

Text

Can I Make a Mess Now?

Jungkook’s never had sex before but, after realizing that he’s falling in love with you, he thinks he wants that to change.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Virgin! Jungkook, established relationship au, college au, smut, fluff.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This is a part 2 to Will You Make a Mess Now? Please please please let me know what you think! Love you

Warnings: smut, language, 18+ only please.

Winter break never lasts long enough does it?

A few short weeks of bliss and then-

BOOM.

You’re forced out of the warm and lazy cocoon of holiday spirit and, back into the rigidity of modern education.

It’s not that you don’t enjoy your studies, it’s just that after nearly four years of exams and, group projects that never go exactly as planned; you are starting to feel burnt out.

It also doesn’t help that you spent the majority of your winter break sleeping over at your boyfriends house.

You got used to the weight of his head on your chest.

You got used to running your fingers through his hair; an act that lulled both of you to sleep.

You got used to waking up beside him every morning.

When the semester started once again, the two of you agreed that you’d reserve overnight stays to weekends only.

As encouraging as you were of each other’s success, copious amounts of alone time is a (delightful) distraction.

Especially since the two of you began exploring the boundaries of your relationship.

At the beginning of winter break, Jungkook had revealed to you that not only was he a virgin but, he’s never been touched before.

After a bit of discussion, he decided that he wanted you to change that.

And boy did you…

You still can’t get the images of him falling apart beneath the firm grasp of your hand out of your head.

It’s arguably one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

Jungkook’s room became the safe haven for exploration.

Many cold nights were spent underneath his duvet, touching on each other until things eventually got heated enough for you to take turns making eachother cum.

Happy Holidays indeed.

There was one night in particular that things got a little out of hand.

In the heat of the moment, Jungkook had torn off your t-shirt, leaving the two of you to make out in your underwear.

He positioned you on his lap with a low whine in his throat and, at the feeling of your heat pressing directly into his dick; he almost lost it right then and there.

It took everything in him to keep his hands steady.

To keep them from ripping your panties off…

However, he succeeded and although, it was painful to slow things down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

The only problem is, that night increased his desire to a level he’s never felt before.

He knows he wants you to be his first but; he’s so particular and, so sensitive to his surroundings that he wants to make sure everything is perfect.

Perfection is a concept he frequently struggles with and, although he’s lessened his standards over the years, he still finds himself reverting back to his old habits.

Losing his virginity is a big deal for him.

He can’t help that.

And because it carries so much weight, he feels the need to hold off until the moment is 100% right.

But, how does he define such a thing?

He knows he wants you.

He knows you want him.

He knows he’s falling in love with you…

So, how is a perfect moment established?

Can you plan it?

Jungkook doesn’t know but, he’s starting to believe that he can’t.

His brothers don’t understand his issues.

Seokjin’s been with his girlfriend for two years and, every time she comes to visit, he can hear her moaning through his bedroom door.

An event that continuously scars him.

Namjoon is engrossed in his studies so, he doesn’t make time for relationships.

But one time, when he was looking for his laptop, Jungkook walked in on him getting his dick sucked.

He’s still never gotten that image out of his head.

Hoseok literally attended an orgy two months ago.

Jimin’s dating his childhood sweetheart.

Taehyung stays over at the sorority house at least twice a week.

And, last but not least, Yoongi frequently walks around sporting various love bites and scratch marks after a night with his girlfriend.

Jungkook’s spoken with his hyungs’ regarding sex a few times but, it’s never a conversation he initiates.

He’s far too shy to openly speak about these things.

But from what he’s gathered, sex is top notch.

None of his brothers could think of anything that feels as good, although Yoongi did cite sleeping as a close second.

After a long week of lectures and tedious lab work, Jungkook has finally decided that he wants to lose his virginity.

Or at least…he’s ready to talk about it…

He starts off guns a blazing: he sends you a text trying to appear nonchalant despite the fact that his heart is currently pounding in his chest.

Jungkook: do you want to come over tonight?

Jungkook: there’s a new season of that anime we started watching :)

His message does the same bit of damage on your heart because, although you two have been dating for quite some time, you still get excited at the thought of seeing him.

You: plzzz

You: this first week has killed me

You: I need to relax so bad

You: my brain cell count has dropped to dangerously low amount.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, shaking his head at your response.

Jungkook: wow

Jungkook: lower than normal???

Jungkook: that’s pretty bad jagi :/

You giggle, already gathering your toothbrush and, various other items needed for an overnight stay.

You: I know

You: it’s a tragedy : (

Despite the playful banter between the two of you, Jungkook is furiously moving around his room, cleaning every inch of it.

He’s dusting the shelves, vacuuming his floor, rearranging his figurines on his desk.

He feels like a mad man…

Jungkook: lol you’re ridiculous

Jungkook: you can come over around 7 if you’re ready; I’m just finishing up an assignment.

Jungkook: miss you <3

Your boyfriend is literally sour patch kid.

You: miss you too

You: falling asleep without you sucks

You: 10/10 would not recommend

Jungkook smiles, gripping his phone in his hand, a flurry of emotions stirring in his stomach.

Jesus, he really likes you…

Jungkook: stay the night then

Jungkook: I’ll make sure you sleep better tonight

He feels proud of himself.

He initiated you coming over, he’s holding a playful/flirty conversation with you, and he’s totally not freaking out at the fact that he’s going to have to tell you he’s ready to have sex.

Right?

Okay, the last part is definitely a lie but he’s just gonna go with it.

You: on my way :)

Jungkook receives this text from you roughly two hours later when he’s getting out of the shower.

He deep cleaned his bedroom, put fresh bedding on his mattress, scrubbed every inch of his body and, now he was standing in front of the mirror with nothing but a towel on his hips.

He takes time slathering lotion all over his skin, hoping that you like the vanilla-honey scent before applying a copious amount of deodorant.

He shaved in the shower, taking his time to remove the bit of hair around his crotch because it makes him feel cleaner.

Jungkook’s hair is getting longer too so, he’s been putting leave in conditioner on his ends to keep them healthy and spritzing his hair with anti-frizz serum.

After roughly 20 minutes of primping, he gets another text from you as he��s pulling on his sweat pants.

You: Here <333

Jungkook feels his stomach twist whilst reading your message.

Here goes nothing…

You’re standing outside the door of Jungkook’s house, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of leggings.

Comfy works out for you because, it requires minimal effort and, it’s also your boyfriend’s favorite look on you.

So, it’s a win win.

Given the fact that you and Jungkook usually end up fooling around, you took the time to exfoliate and shave whilst you were in the shower.

You may have also worn a new lacy red bra that had arrived in the mail earlier that day…

But, who knows?

“Yahhh there she is…”

You instantly light up as Jungkook eagerly swings open his front door, quickly pulling you into his grasp.

He smells amazing but, he feels even better and, you waste no time in pulling him close to you.

“I missed you.” You mutter into his hair

He grins, hugging you a bit tighter and, ushering you inside, “Missed you too, are you cold at all?”

Stepping through the threshold of his door, you notice that he’s freshly showered himself, his hair is damp and stringy but, it frames his face perfectly

“A little bit but, I plan on using you for warmth really soon so, I’m good.”

His hand is intertwined with yours as he leads you up to his room and, his face lights up with a smile.

“I got a new duvet on Tuesday, it’s really warm but,” He places a hand on his chest. “,you can still use me though, I missed having you here.”

Jungkook mutters the last half of his sentence, his cheeks warming up at his confession before he pushes open the bedroom door.

You don’t comment on his shyness but, it makes you smile and lean into him a little more.

His room is always clean but, the fresh scent of his disinfectant spray is slightly more pungent than normal. It isn’t a harsh smell; it’s a soft lavender cleaner that he special orders from Korea.

He absolutely hates the scent of bleach.

“It’s a nice color huh?”

Jungkook gestures to the muted grey of his new bedding, which is carefully placed over his mattress.

“I love it, it’s very you.” You smile as your eyes scan the room, “it matches your furniture really well too.”

His eyes light up, “Yeah, yeah that’s why I got it. I knew it would look good with the- um the desk and the dresser and stuff. See, I knew you’d notice that…you always notice things like that.”

Before you can respond he’s speaking again, his tone slightly uneven, “Um do you want to lay down? I know you said you were cold. I can hold you if you want-“ He grimaces at his word choice, not fully understanding why his nerves are taking over already, “not that I don’t want to or anything. I do, I just…I know you’re cold.”

You touch your hand to his cheek, bringing his wandering eyes back to yours, “Are you ok?”

Jungkook swallows, his eyes locking with yours, “Y-Yeah, I just don’t want you to be cold…”

You’re not convinced.

Although the two of you have only been together for 6 months, you like to think you’ve gotten to know Jungkook really well. He isn’t exactly a closed book and, when he’s nervous about something, it’s fairly obvious.

“Are you suuuure?”

The question is paired with a soft kiss to his lips and, Jungkook can’t help but smile when you do, his posture relaxing slightly.

“I’m sure, I’m just happy you’re here. It was weird not seeing you all week.” He tucks a stray hair behind your ear before, pecking your lips.

Again, you’re not convinced but, you don’t want to pry.

He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

The matter of his worries is dropped and, Jungkook quickly (and neatly) pulls back the covers so, that the two of you can slip underneath them.

Moments later, you’re nestled against your boyfriend’s side, draping your arm over your stomach.

“You smell good…” You mutter against his sweater, nuzzling gently against the material.

Jungkook grins triumphantly, silently patting himself on the back for his choice of lotion.

“Thank you,” His chest vibrates with the sound of his voice, “so do you…”

With that, he tentatively raises a hand towards your hair, allowing his fingertips to brush over the top of your head.

The anime begins playing but, you’re more focused on the way his fingers feel, as you melt into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

And halfway through the first episode, Jungkook’s motions are beginning to take a toll on you.

But not in the way you’d normally expect…

He’s smiling softly, admiring the way you sigh at his touch, taking time to play with the ends of your hair before massaging gently at your scalp.

“You’re going to make me sleepy…” You mumble contently, a few minutes later and, Jungkook chuckles breathlessly beneath you.

“That’s ok; you can sleep if you need to.”

He means it.

Jungkook had other things on his agenda but, now that you’re here, all he cares about is your comfort.

“Don’t wanna sleep-“ You nudge your nose against his ribcage, “I missed you.”

With another chuckle, he traces his fingers over the edges of your hairline, brushing over the shell of your ear.

You can feel goosebumps rising on your skin but, it’s not intrusive or sudden, they come on slowly along with a type of comfort that only Jungkook can provide.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He soothes, his motions continuing over the arches of your brows before, he traces back up the expanse of your forehead. “I promise.”

You can feel yourself smile as your blinking slows, taking another deep breath whilst your body seems to melt into him.

The heaviness in your eyelids is growing despite your best efforts to warrant off your exhaustion.

You didn’t want to nap, you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend but, when he tucks his fingers beneath your hair and, begins scratching gently on your scalp, the threat of sleep becomes more prominent.

“Sleepy girl…” He teases, a fond smile on his lips as he watches your eyes finally close. His thumb brushes over your cheek, gently pinching at the skin before, returning his hand to your hair.

This warms you from the inside out and, sooner or later you can’t help but, drift off into a light sleep.

Jungkook smile grows and, he slows his movements to a stop before tugging on the duvet until it covers your shoulders.

He decides in that moment that he really wouldn’t mind spending every night just like this; tucked under the covers, falling asleep in eachother’s arms.

He changes the show to something you’ve already seen; he doesn’t want to watch the anime without you.

After some time has passed, you slowly come out of your slumber, happy you’re still laying on your boyfriend’s chest.

You peer up at Jungkook to see his brow furrowed in concentration as his gaze is locked firmly on the screen.

A smile immediately finds it’s way onto your lips, your finger reaching out to bop him on the nose.

He jumps at first, not understanding the source of the interruption before he quickly matches your smile, ““Yah she’s awake. Did you have a good nap?” He thumbs over your cheek once more and, you’re overcome by the urge to press a kiss against his lips

He’s willing and able to accept it.

His hands come up to hold you against him and, he slowly begins to move his lips against yours

“Mhm...”

His nose wrinkles with the joy on his face as he presses more kisses to your lips.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, I just haven’t been getting to bed on time this week...”

An adorable pout comes over his mouth, “Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you were able to get some rest. It’s not late or anything.”

It’s well past sunset but, Jungkook’s vanilla cake candle is providing enough light to illuminate the details of your boyfriends face.

You kiss him again, just because he’s cute and you can, “What did you do while I was out?”

His head reclines against his pillow again but, he tugs you closer, ensuring that you remain against him.

“I watched a few episodes of Naruto...” He admits, “I’ve seen it a million times but, I never get tired of it.”

Your arms drape over his shoulders as the upper half of your body rests over his chest. The wispy ends of his black hair are too cute to resist so you absentmindedly toy with them as you respond,

“I get it, I have a few different shows that I’m like that with; I swear I’ve seen The Office so many times I could quote it in my sleep.”

A half smirk curves on the end of his mouth, “Yeah that’s a good one too, Jin hyung watches that show all the time.”

You giggle, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, “Ah that explains a lot actually, Jin and Michael Scott have a lot in common.”

He chuckles at that, nodding in agreement, leaning his head against your hand.

“Which character do you think you are?”

You purse your lips, mulling it over, your eyes narrowing in thought, “Hmmm that’s a tough one cause like- I wanna say Kelly because, she’s amazing but in reality, I’m probably more of a Kevin.”

Jungkook’s smirk grows, “Isn’t that the guy who dropped his chili all over the place?

With a dramatic sigh, you nod, “God, I’ve never related to anyone more in my entire life...”

A full belly laugh comes from your boyfriends pretty mouth, his body trembling beneath you as he shakes his head.

It’s one of your favorite sounds, especially when it gets all high pitched like it is now.

“Jagi you aren’t Kevin...” He insists, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, “You are cooler than him.”

“You’re just saying that because you see the best side of me; in reality I am 100% Kevin.” You giggle, tucking more hair behind his other ear.

He still chuckles, shaking his head before nodding to you, “Who do you think I am?”

This definitely gets your brain going.

“I’m leaning towards Jim, you guys have a lot in common.” You nod as you continue to think about their similarities, “Yeah, you both have the same sense of humor and, even though you’re more sexy in an obvious way, you both have the same kind of sexiness?? If that makes sense?? But, you’re definitely hotter than Jim.”

You force your train of thought away from the office- style fantasy that pops into your head as Jungkook feels something stir deep in his gut.

“You think I’m sexy?”

You can’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, you swear you’ll never understand how Jungkook doesn’t see how hot he is.

“Duh.” You seal your response with a kiss but, Jungkook surprises you by sitting up and tugging you onto his lap.

He chuckles at the squeal that leaves your lips but, he carries on kissing you, his hands sliding up your outer thighs.

You don’t know what prompts his motions but, you’re not really in the mood to ask.

You’d much rather sit on your boyfriend’s lap and, make out with him.

“Can you-” He whispers against your lips, slightly breathless, “Can you say it?”

Your eyes flutter open to catch the shyness in his, “Can I say what?”

Warmth floods the apples of his cheeks, “Can you say that you think I’m sexy?”

A smirk teases the corners of your mouth and, tentatively you roll your hips against his.

“Are you trying to get hard Jungkook?”

You can hear him gulp, his eyes widening a bit before he nods.

With a smirk still on your lips, you tilt his head back, moving your fingers through his hair as you slowly begin placing kisses up the side of his neck.

His breathing picks up and, god help him, he immediately feels his dick hardening in his sweats.

Jungkook’s neck is a sensitive area and, you know exactly where his weak spots are.

As you reach the lobe of his ear, you feel his grip tighten on your hips, his mouth parted slightly to make way for his shaky breath.

“Jungkook?” You whisper in his ear, biting your lip as you see him visibly shiver beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re sexy.”

You nibble on his ear before quickly reuniting your lips, your hands sliding underneath his sweater.

His skin is so soft, so warm beneath your fingertips and, there is a large part of you that wishes you could spend hours just touching and kissing your boyfriend’s body.

Jungkook is eagerly reciprocating your kiss whilst his hands slowly move back up the outsides of your thighs.

His plan to get hard definitely worked because, you can feel him poking against your hips and, you’re already thinking of all the different ways you can make him cum.

“Did you get hard for me?” You whisper against his swollen lips, nudging his nose

Instantly he nods, his hands tugging the hem of your hoodie.

You take the hint, pulling back from him in order to remove it.

Your plan is to continue kissing him of course but, as Jungkook spots the fire-red lace cups supporting the swells of your breasts, he lets out a tortured sigh.

“Is that new?” He swallows thickly, biting his bottom lip, allowing his hands to trail up your hips before securing themselves against your waist.

All you do is nod, sticking your chest out a bit and, encouraging him to keep touching you.

Jungkook leans in, dragging the tip of his nose between your breasts, inhaling when he reaches the space between your color bones.

“Did you wear this for me?”

His voice is ragged but, it’s deeper than normal, due to the arousal coating his tone.

“I wanted to look pretty for you.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

You can feel him smile against your chest, his wet lips trailing back to tops of the bra, “You’re always pretty but this-” He grows bolder, biting softly at your breast, “this is torture”

A giggle bubbles past your lips, as you roll down against him once more.

“Jagi I-” The sensation of pleasure that toys with his body acts like a truth serum and, in an act of desperation that he definitely didn’t plan, a confession tumbles from his mouth, “I want you.”

But you don’t quite catch his drift, still rocking slowly against him, arousal slowly beginning to unravel you, “I want you too.”

No like,” He pulls away, his eyes glazed over with desire as they lock onto yours, “I want to be inside of you...”

It’s like a punch to the gut really, the way your boyfriend’s voice seems to quake under the weight of his admission.

You cup his cheek, “Really? Are you sure?”

He nods eagerly, licking his lips before turning to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, “I want you so bad...”

You’re quick to capture his lips then, kissing into him with more fervor than you ever have.

"Can you do it for us Noona?” He croons into your mouth, his eyes darkened with lust as they plead with yours.

A nod is all you can manage at his devasting way of asking you to ride him.

For the first time...

You’re pulling off his sweater, securing your lips to his once more, kissing on them as you lean him back against the pillows.

Your bottoms are removed, leaving you completely naked as you tug his sweats down his legs.

Jungkook’s erection looks painful and, you feel yourself ache at the thought of finally being able to sit on it.

As you sit astride him once more, you lean down to press a kiss between his eyes before trailing your lips down the bridge of his nose to hover over his mouth.

He looks a little emotional, staring up at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

And you would, you’d do anything for him.

“Are you ready baby?” You whisper

He takes a deep and unstable breath through his nose but, gives you a nod anyway as he exhales through his mouth.

Right as you start lining him up with your entrance, Jungkook cups your cheek, his hand clammed up due to his nerves.

“Jagi?” He croaks

You kiss his hand gently, reassurance in your eyes, “Yeah?”

“G-Go slow please...”

You nod, “Of course, tell me if you want to stop at any point ok?”

He returns your nod before, letting out another breath as his head returns to his pillows.

Slowly but surely, you begin sheathing him in your heat, going as slow as possible so he can feel everything.

His body seems to freeze as you sink down on him, his hands tightening on your hips before a gasp leaves his throat.

Jungkook is quite sure he’s in heaven.

That’s the only explanation for the intense feelings of pleasure swimming through his body. He’s never felt anything so hot, so tight-

So fucking good.

He’s going to lose his mind.

With wide eyes, he stares up at you in awe, his lips parted as the length of his dick is fully inside of you.

You’re not fairing too well either because, Jungkook fills you up perfectly, nudging against the spot within you that makes your head spin.

“Is that ok?”

“ ‘ss so good...” His voice is slurred as his hips jerk beneath you, sending a wave of pleasure through your core.

Biting your lip, you thumb his cheek, trying to hold it together, “Can I ride you now?”

You’re asking because, you want to make sure he’s prepared.

You know this isn’t going to last long but, you still want to blow his mind.

“I’m already so close jagi...I’m sorry...” He chokes on the end of his sentence when you start a pace on his dick, “Oh fu- oh my god...”

“Shh...don’t be sorry, you’re doing so good. You cum whenever you need to ok?”

“Ah- Y/N...”

His beautiful features are screwed up in pleasure, his hands falling off your hips because, he literally doesn’t have the strength to hold on at this point.

Jungkook’s breathing is growing rapid, as his eyes flit to where you’re connected, “Jagi I’m- I’m really inside...I’m really inside of you...” He marvels, his voice weak with emotion as his hips begin to meet yours.

“You feel so good inside of me.” You assure him, increasing your pace which prompts his eyes to roll back momentarily.

“Will you kiss me? Please? I wanna kiss you when I cum...and I’m-” His eyes re-focus but, it doesn’t last long as you lean forward to brace your hands on either side of his head, “Jagi I’m gonna cum already...I’m gonna cum so hard. Oh sh- shit...”

You want every wish of his to come true.

You lean down to connect your lips, your hips moving faster and faster, wanting him to cum harder than he ever has in his entire life.

He whimpers into your mouth as his sweaty hands hold you tightly against his body.

“It’s...fuck I’m sorry, I’m sor- I'm cumming.” He chokes out, his grip tightening intensely as his hips weakly jerk with the force of his release.

He says your name as he cums inside of you, trying his best to kiss you properly but, it’s wet and sloppy.

You don’t care though, you ride him through his orgasm, keeping your lips connected.

“There you go, cum for me baby...” You coo, kissing all over his face as the pleasure continues to wrack his senses.

Jungkook knows his never cum harder in his life and, by the time his orgasm settles down, he’s properly spent.

He doesn’t completely register the feeling of you sliding off of him as his whole body is alight with tingles.

You make sure to clean him up, pressing gentle kisses to his stomach as you do.

You didn’t cum this time and, to be honest, it doesn’t really matter.

What you’ve both just experienced was too intimate to measure and, orgasms weren’t really the point this time.

Tucking into your boyfriend’s body you bring him close, tugging the duvet over his shoulders this time...

“Hi” He whispers, tucking his face shyly into your neck, his breathing not fully recovered.

“Hi you...”

With a smile on your mouth, you press a kiss to his head, holding him tightly to you.

He kisses your chest, feeling ridiculous at how shy he suddenly feels, “I think-” He stops himself to peek up at you, a bit of moisture in his eyes, “I think I’m falling for you.”

Your heart throbs at his confession, kissing his lips once more before whispering, “I think I am too.”

Jungkook knows you didn’t finish and, he plans on addressing that when he settles down but right now, all he can do is hold you.

He thinks he’s finally figured it out:

You can’t plan a perfect moment because, perfection just doesn’t exist.

But as along as he’s with you, it doesn’t really matter.

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mymegumi · 4 years ago

Text

at the root of it all

pairing: jean kirschtein x fem!reader

genre: angst

word count: 846

warnings: farmer!jean, unhappy/toxic relationship and lots of talks about weeds

notes: firstly, thank you @misutv for the divider i am kissing u for it. secondly this is for @oikirstein mwah i love you giggles. thirdly i love you @hikariakaashi

Weeds were one of the most annoying parts of his job, Jean had decided one day while the sun was beating down on the back of his neck. He’d have to get a towel, because the sunburn was wicked and he didn’t really have the luxury of wasting time waiting for it to heal—the crops waited for no one but the sun, after all.

His hands pulled another patch of overgrown grass from the ground that had been poking out, the dirt on the farm much drier than normal and the sun a bit harsher. Normally he’d be out before sunrise working, making sure to keep his fair skin out of harm’s way despite the weather. Today, however, he found himself under the star’s scrutiny, late to rise and late to work.

“Damn,” he grumbled to himself as he wiped the sweat beading against his forehead with the back of his hand, “was it always this hot?”

Jean’s work was laborious, but he didn’t think anything else would be as fruitful for him at this point in his life. A college dropout who'd barely skated through high school, without a family name to boost his status or even a cent to his name, he was lucky the farm’s owner had taken him in. The farm owner, a gentle older woman who’d lost more than she gained, had taken him in without a second thought and cared for him as her own. Shortly before her passing, she’d left everything to him and that included almost two acres of just crop fields.

If Jean was kidding himself, which he’d been all too likely to do lately, he’d tell himself the reason he was working such hard and tiring hours was just because he was worried about this year’s harvest—but he was never a good liar.

He grumbled again, tugging a bit harder than he needed to on the dandelion flower growing in the vast expanse of his field. He loathed the thought of going home, not because he enjoyed working monotonous hours in the sun with dirt caking into the crevices of his jeans, but because he loathed the thought of going home to you.

You, his girlfriend of some odd years that loved him more than anything else. He hated boiling down your relationship to something so simple, but at the end of the day, you were simply his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend. Yet it felt like so much more and so much less was unsaid.

It didn’t describe the way he’d slowly felt you slip from his fingers despite his best efforts to hold onto you. The word lovers didn’t seem to encapsulate the fact that despite all that the pair of you put in, there was nothing he could do from the weeds that grew amongst the flowers you tended to together. Weeds were resilient, after all, and they grew along the cracks of the pavement and budded where they were least wanted.

They bloomed in the harsh light of words slung at each other with no meaning behind them, each one slipping from his tongue more venomous than the last, that left a sour taste of regret on his tongue he’d rather swallow than admit he felt. He wasn’t a hotheaded teenager anymore, he rationalized with himself, but somewhere underneath the exterior he built as he worked under the blinding sun, he still had his pride. A pride that threatened to swallow his relationship whole if he wasn’t careful—and Jean was usually so careful.

Sometimes as he looked at the expanse of dirt he had to weed, sometimes by hand and sometimes with the help of mechanics, he often wondered what the point of it was. Wouldn’t it be easier to allow the weeds to grow, why discriminate between plants? Weren’t the weeds another form of growth, and if so, wasn’t that a good thing?

“Weeds are dangerous,” the elder woman’s voice rang in his ears as he wiped at the reddening under his eyes, “because if you let them grow, they take from the plants that need it. They might look beautiful, might seem like regular plants, but their only purpose is to take. They take more than they need and they take from the plants that need it more than them.”

The smiles of the people he loves blurred behind his eyes as he shoves his gloves off, not wanting dirt to cake into the creases of his skin. He wiped at his stinging eyes with the heels of his palms, digging into the eyes as he stifled the sounds leaving his mouth, each sob more pathetic than the last one.

“You have to pull the weeds up with its root, because otherwise it isn’t completely gone.” She had warned him one summer evening with a glass of wine in her hand, her free hand carding through his hair. “If you leave even a bit of the root behind, the weed can just grow back again and again.”

Maybe it was finally time for him to start taking her advice.

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solar-bean · 4 years ago

Text

Screw Periods!!!

Grimmjow x Reader

( Reader has a uterus but their gender is of course up to you. )

You laid on your couch as still as a corpse. In fact you felt close to death thanks to your vagina having it's monthly tantrum. God did the cramps hurt like hell! And it must've been your lucky day since your heating pad broke and the painkillers were taking forever to kick in. At least it was a Saturday so work wasn't a problem.

Wait ... it's Saturday?!! You thought.

Right then a flood of spiritual pressure invaded your senses. In came the former epsada from your apartment's balcony. Although he was obviously angry he took care not to break the sliding door. Or anything for that matter. He knew better.

When it came to you at least.

You didn't bother to peak out from your comfy blanket burrito as he stalked up to the couch like the overgrown cat he was.

" You missed our sparring match. " He said in a low tone. There was no doubt a scowl on his face.

Despite how normal you may appear, you’re actually quite powerful. In the past, you’ve been able to take on all types of foes along with Ichigo and the rest of the gang. Although, you were a bit late to the party and weren’t able to get much experience before everything died down to a more peaceful state. Thankfully Grimmjow was more than willing to battle a worthy opponent since Ichigo was too busy with his education and trying to have a more normal life. Thus began your weekly sparring sessions, normally in Hueco Mundo or Urahara’s bunker. But today you were only willing to move as far as your bedroom to the living room and occasionally the bathroom.

" I know. Sorry. " You grumbled. " Forgot what day it was."

" Tch. Since when do you forget what day it is? You sick or something?...Wait," his voice got closer to you. " Did someone hurt you?" He said with a mix of worry and deadly intent.

" No."

" Tell me who it is and I'll kill em."

" No! Grimm I'm fine."

" Hm. Then why," he tugged the blanket away from your face and raised a single brow. " Do you look like shit?"

You glared at him as best you could.

“ If you must know. I’m on my period.” You tugged the blanket back up. “ Now leave so I can suffer in peace. We’ll fight next week.”

Things were quiet for awhile. For second you thought he had left. Then..

“ Whats a period?”

Your eyes went wide under cover. You peaked out at him with an unbelieving eye.

“ You know. Mensural cycles?”

His face scrunched.

“ Mental what?”

You looked at him fully.

“ You really don’t know what periods are???”

“ Yeah. I mean. Maybe? I don't know! It sounds kinda familiar.”

Hmm. You thought. If Grimm died at the age that he looks now then he definitely knows what periods are. Maybe he doesn’t fully remember.

“ I guess hollows can’t have them since you don’t reproduce.”

“ Huh?” more confusion showed on his face. “ What does that have to do with anything?! Are you...Are you having a kid?!!!”

Watching him panic over a mini-you running around would’ve been hilarious any other day. But today you just wanted to nap. So if he was ever going to leave you be he needed to know what was going on

“ Hand me my laptop.” You sat up with an audible groan. “ And no. I’m not pregnant.”

It took a little over an hour to show him articles and YouTube videos about the wonders mensural cycles, plus answering questions about how yours worked specifically and a little chat on the birds and the bees. He got a bit upset with you feeling the need to explain the last one but you were playing it safe.

“ So you’re going through all this pain and gross stuff. Just because you have feminine parts, you’re not pregnant and you’re not fifty or older?” He said slowly from his seat on the carpet in front of the coffee table that held your laptop.

“ Yeah pretty much.”

“ And this is every month?”

“ Yeah.”

“ For a week?”

“ Yep.”

“....That’s shitty.”

“ Uh huh.”

“ Like. Seriously whose fucking bright idea was this?!”

“ No clue. But they better stay out of my line of sight.”

“ Tch,” he scoffed and folded his arms. “ Well whoever it is deprived me of a good fight.”

You scowled at him.

“ Oh you poor thing. It must suck to have male anatomy privilege. How about you whine about it somewhere else while I attempt to get some sleep.” You rolled over in a huff. “ And for the record. I’ve fought you plenty of times on my period and won. It’s just being a bitch today.”

You were in silence once again. Maybe now sleep would come. But no. The pain still came back every minute like a clawed hand slowly squeezing your guts over and over. Then all of a sudden warmth formed on your lower stomach.

“ Hm?”

You looked down to see Grimmjow’s hand on you. It had a slight red glow indicating that he was using his cero. Though it was much more like comforting heat than a scolding laser beam.

“ I didn’t know it could do that..”

“ It helps with sore joints and stuff. Is it numbing the pain at all?”

You rolled over. He had a soft look in his eyes. He was worried.

Big softie kitty.

You smiled and pressed his palm closer to where it hurt the most.

“ Yeah..” you sighed. “ Feels a lot better.”

After a few minutes of slight dozing off, you felt him pick you up gently. Before you could ask he was already under you and laying you on top of him. He reached under the cover and past the hem of your shirt so you could feel both of his cero-warmed hands. You couldn’t but sigh in delight from the relief and nuzzle into the chest that was exposed from his black jumpsuit.

This might’ve been odd if you two hadn’t been getting closer lately. To no one’s surprise the feral arrancar was extremely touch starved. But with your sparring came respect. And with respect came the showing of vulnerability. After many long months of course. Eventually touching and being close to each other was second nature. Cuddling was new though. But he was basically a big cat so you knew it was bound to happen.

As you fell asleep you heard the start of a purr. You didn’t know how long you were asleep but when you woke up he was gone.

Guess he got bored and left.

Your were about to feel sad and little lonely when a patch of blue hair poked itself through the balcony door. In came Grimmjow with a hand full of snacks. He made his way to you and plopped them all on the table.

“Ok I couldn’t go to a normal store for obvious reason so I went to Urahara’s.” he began to pick up each item one buy one. “ I got those sour gummies you like, some sodas, some water, a few cases of chocolate bars, a pack of caramel, the last of the good chips which I had to kick Jinta to get - the little bastard. And Urruru lended me some pads but I’m nut sure if they’re the kind you us-”

Before he could finish you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“ You’re the best! Thank you so much!”

He was taken aback for a moment then hugged you back with a smug smirk on his face.

“ Hey you wanna stay and watch a movie with me? I can’t eat all this by myself.”

“ Sure.” he shrugged nonchalantly. Though you could see a small smile on his face.

You sat snuggled up and watched an action comedy as you ate. You were half way through the movie when something hit you.

“ How’d you pay for all of this?”

Grimmjow chewed lazily a blueberry sour gummie, not bothering to take his eyes off the screen.

“ I told Urahara that your vagina was trying to kill you. So he let me take it for free. Never saw him that quiet before.”

“..........Yeah I’m definitely kicking your ass next week.”

“ I’d hope so.” he grinned.

#bleach #grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow jaggerjack #grimmjow x reader #reader is op #grimmy is soft #reader doesn't take shit and grim freaking loves it #made this on my period to cope

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fxllensouls · 3 years ago

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Basil {soul of patience}

INFO –

full name: Basil James Bennett.

age : 12 years old.

soul trait : cyan (patience).

date of birth : November 8th.

height : 4′9.

gender + pronouns : male, he/him.

STATS –

* A sweet lad who has done nothing wrong in his life, ever. Well, besides the few monsters he dusted. You can only have so much patience for things, after all. He waited and waited and spared and spared, but some monsters were really keen on taking his soul. Not all, but some. Besides, in cases like that, they were trying to kill him- He was acting in self defense. Basil isn’t prone to violence overall though, at least when he can avoid it, but he’s willing to fight to protect himself even if it scares him. He’s kind of quiet but not necessarily shy: he just likes to take things in before interacting with someone or something, and when he sets his sights on a goal, Basil likes taking his time with it. He’s not one to rush or worry about finishing. He prefers to go at his own pace, even if it might annoy others. When it comes to socializing, Basil is really friendly and is a pretty big people person. Friends of Basil would say he’s considerate and kind, sometimes even a little mischievous. He’s always down to play games and hang out, and he enjoys hanging out with Shiloh in particular because both boys are very active and like playing things like tag. But Basil not always a happy little goober. He can be a bit frustrating to deal with when upset or bothered by something. If he’s really mad at you, especially if he feels you’ve wronged or hurt him, he’ll give you the silent treatment. He’ll wait for you to approach instead of him, and he might even go out of his way to avoid you if he’s upset enough. It might be immature, but eventually he’ll forgive and move on. He’s not one to hold a grudge and after a while he will start to feel bad about ignoring the person. He dislikes confrontation, so this is his way of dealing with it, even if he knows what he’s doing isn’t helping the situation. In a way it makes his anxiety worse- He’s too upset and anxious to confront the person so he will actively avoid the thing that’s causing him stress. But then that just breeds more stress, and eventually he will cave and go to say sorry, usually with his eyes to his feet and looking very very guilty. He really isn’t trying to be difficult, and he understands how frustrating that may be from the other person’s perspective. It is a very bad habit Basil has yet to break, and a habit that funnily enough is what lead to him going to Ebott. In a way, it lead to him dying. And he has more regrets about that than anything. He tries not to think about it, preferring to hang with Shiloh and Petey and distract himself. Overall, Basil is a nice kid and is just chilling. He’s one of the souls in the group that’s easier to talk to since he’ll talk to basically anyone, and he really enjoys socializing with others so it’s not hard to get a conversation going. Just don’t get him upsetti spaghetti.

HP 0/24 | LV 1 | ATTK 3 | DEF 5

ITEMS –

* Faded ribbon [EQUIPPED] : Your boot is falling apart so you patched it up. Good as new!

* Toy knife [EQUIPPED] : Not like it can do real damage. It’s only plastic. Despite this, you like to keep it on you because it makes you feel safe. Plus it’s fun to fiddle with.

* Band-aids : You never know when you’ll need these. There’s a variety of colors and patterns. Some of them even have little smiley faces on them!

Extra facts –

- His eyes are a little sensitive to light, so they’re almost always drawn closed. But if you must know, his eyes are brown.

- LOVES sour gummy worms.

- Basil has a cat named Sargent Snuggles back home.

Bio –

[ REDACTED ]

#lying in wait (basil)#that last one is a reference #if you know you know

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iarrelm · 4 years ago

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i’ve been enabled so here are some angel/demon khunbam au ideas that i’ve been thinking about!!

ok so khun is a fallen angel from heaven that now lives on earth as a tired college student

he does not care about going back to heaven he’s cool with chillin on earth forever

(he also loves team shibisu and never wants to leave them but shh)

anyway he’s living his life when suddenly he comes across a demon near death in the alleyway next to his apartment building and he’s like

hmm. i guess i have to help him

so he picks him up (boom) and takes him up to his apartment and patches him up.

and at that point he finally realizes wait a minute why did i just pick up a demon off the street for no reason im supposed to be distancing myself from this supernatural stuff what the f-

but them bam opens his eyes and smiles and thanks khun and he’s so bright and cute and-

oh no what did he just get himself into

also, jahad rules over heaven while v and arlene are the rulers of hell

the 10 great families and princesses of jahad also rule over and protect heaven

so they’re basically angels while jahad is god

and fug would be demons who take care of things in hell

anyway that means that bam is the prince of hell

so what is he doing beat up on earth you may ask??

well. rachel happens to also be a demon in hell and also super close with arlene and bam

(or so bam thought)

and basically, rachel wants to become the future ruler of hell and the only way to do that is the get rid of the heir to the throne

so she pushes him into a random portal and leaves it at that

and that’s how bam ended up on earth

but rachel’s plan kinda backfires a little because v and arlene love their son and they miss him so they send her and a few groups from fug to go up to earth and heaven to look for him and bring him home

rachel: ...>:(

anyway back to khunbam

khun lets bam stay with him in his apartment and attempts to teach him how to look like a normal human being

it goes... decently

he ends up meeting team shibisu when they force themselves into khun’s apartment for a tiny party

everyone:...

khun: (hiding his head in his hands)

bam: um. hello...?

shibisu: (turning to khun) when were you gonna tell us you got married

team shibisu adopts bam on sight they love him

eventually, bam starts going to college with the rest of them where he meets team sweet and sour

they also adopt him instantly

they work on their projects together and surprisingly, bam is actually very smart and learns things very quickly so he has no trouble at all keeping up with the rest of them

anyway this was kind of in order but here’s a few miscellaneous things:

annak’s mom was also a fallen angel like khun, who fell in love with a human. im gonna say that she’s still alive and happy with her husband and daughter in this au because it’s what she deserves

i also think it might be funny to have an older, distinguished supernatural just watching all the other kids run around and attempt to look human and fail.

endorsi was a princess of jahad. she was sent down to earth to look for annak but then she got to earth and she thought it was a lot cooler than heaven so she decided to stay

since jahad has no idea and also doesn’t really care all that much, endorsi isn’t considered a fallen angel yet, so her wings are still pure white

wangnan is half angel half demon and he hides it better than all of them combined despite the fact that he has horns growing out the back of his head. this fact drives khun crazy

karaka is also half angel half demon but he lives in hell with demons because he likes them better. he has a very angelic face so he hides it behind his mask.

#khunbam angel/demon au #khunbam #tower of god #tog #twenty fifth baam #khun aguero agnis #hi thank you for enabling me riku ily #hopefully i will draw some more soon because i love this idea #anyway if you guys have any other ideas please scream at me #ahh i really wanna write a fanfic but i should be working on my college apps alsdkfjsldk

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gothmedia · 4 years ago

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Movie Review: My Summer as a Goth

”If you don’t care what people think, why did you just ask me what I thought?” Overview and Plot My Summer as a Goth is a crowd funded movie directed by Tara Johnson-Medinger. It stars Joey, a morose teen who constantly talks about her dead dad and gets angry when other people talk about her dead dad. Since her mother is a prolific author set to do a book tour, Joey is shipped about 45 minutes out of town to her grandparents' house for the summer. There she becomes interested in the neighbor boy, an even more sullen teen called Victor. Victor notices Joey's interest and whisks her away into the world of goth summer romance. In terms of production, very nice looking film. Professional. I liked that the beginning of the movie looked very washed-out and reflected the mood well, getting warmer as the summer went on. I also loved the texting graphics. The movie was well-paced and a good length, however the passage of time in the movie was a bit odd. VERY soon after the movie says summer starts it’s the Fourth of July, then again only a short time later everyone’s talking about how the summer is almost over. Joey even gets mad at her mother in one instance for not being available in time, but it seems like the mother responded back in about a day while Joey makes it out that it took weeks. The in-movie passage of time was very confusing for me. Most of the characters were well-written with some hiccups mostly on the grandparent’s and Antonio’s end. Costume design was on-point. Sound was fine and the music choices throughout were wonderful. Overall, the film had really good production value.

Moving into spoiler territory, Joey’s grandparents are a ride as they swing from giving Joey hundreds of dollars and baking her pot brownies to telling at her she can’t stay out late and that she needs an exorcism. Antonio, a punk, starts the movie off by getting into a fist fight with Victor, but later becomes a loveable member of the cast. We meet Cob and Pen, the “goth swan couple”. They’re Victor’s friends and a breath of fresh air; despite having morose interests they’re very bubbly and outgoing. I wish more of the movie had them in it. They along with Victor decide to give Joey a makeover and invite her to a few different events over the summer including a silent disco in a graveyard, a party at Pandora’s house, and a concert. They also go on a camping trip with Joey, her grandparents, and one of Joey’s high school friends. Eventually, Joey gets annoyed with Victor’s constant toxic attitude and finds out he’s cheating on her. Everything’s fine in the end as the summer comes to a close and she goes back to school with Antonio as her new boyfriend and her new, darker look.

Joey the babybat has daddy issues. In the beginning Joey feels acts catty and defensive about everything. Don’t worry, she never really grows out of that. Pretty much everything about her revolves around either the fact that her father is dead or her relationship with Victor. She does have an art hobby that’s shown throughout the movie but she seems almost embarrassed by it? It’s never actually brought up by any characters and no one ever looks through her sketchbook or shows interest in it. Which I found really odd because a lot of the goths I know in real life tend to be pretty creative and would love it? Anyway, she falls head-first into goth because of a boy. I know that’s how some people get into the subculture, but it kind-of sours the movie because it seems like she also only stays in the subculture because of the boy. In the beginning she mentions liking the music and how it helps her express how she feels inside, but other than Victor, we really don’t get to see how she thinks about the subculture. She’s friends with Cob and Pen because they’re Victor’s friends. She goes to events because Victor goes. She dresses up because Victor wants her to. But once Victor is out of the picture, why does she stay? Other than the passing mention of music at the beginning, she really has no interest in the goth scene. She’s never shown engaging with the scene on her own terms, and I find that a little disappointing. When I was a babybat I was reading goth blogs like Stripy Tights and Dark Delights, I was trying to get my hands on back issues of Gothic Beauty, I was watching a ton of different youtubers talk about the scene and I just wanted more. There’s none of that with Joey save for a short scene where she watches tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up. (Which, admittedly was really cute.) I didn’t understand WHY Joey stays a goth at the end of the movie and I think it’s because the movie really didn’t portray the positive aspects of the subculture as much. Also, Joey needs to work on her attitude problem. She mentions her dead dad quite a bit at the beginning and gets upset when other people mention it back to her. At the end of the film she calls her mom over heartbreak and when her mom tries to talk about it with her, she acts sarcastic and shuts her mother out, getting mad that she reached out at the wrong time. I’m unsure if it was just Joey going back to her old coping strategies or if she was in the right because I have no idea how much time had passed since the phone call. I’ll never know. Either way, she does dump Victor which is nice and she reconciles with her mother as well. I do like that she feels more comfortable with herself at the end of the movie and begins doing things on her own terms, even if others don’t “get it”. Victor is a VERY well-written, manipulative dick. Storytime! So, there weren’t many goths at my college and we never really had any classes together, but I remember seeing this one kid walking across the street to the art buildings with a flowing black velvet cape over their backpack, an unlaced black poet shirt, platinum white hair in a side-hawk, knee-high black leather boots and a TON of silver jewelry. Honestly, they would have looked so cool if their harem pants weren’t made of chiffon and completely see-through. (Batman boxers!) Seeing Victor for the first time immediately reminded me of that. Over the top, charming, charismatic and a bit silly. I liked him at first. His wit is dry and in the beginning he didn’t take himself of the subculture TOO seriously, making jokes about vampires. I liked that he seemed to be having fun chatting about music and dressing up Joey. And then there came the lipstick. Honestly, the lipstick was used absolutely perfectly to show how the relationship is souring and how manipulative Victor really is. It really is a gradual showing of how things are going south in their relationship and how Victor isn’t as much as a downcast victim as he puts on. Later on in the movie he starts reminding me of that Bruiser sketch where there’s two goths and one of them is just badgering the other one that he can’t take his sweater off in the summer or join in on seasports because it’s “not goth”. He begins chastising Joey for not looking perfect at all times or not knowing things about the subculture despite the fact that he just dresses her up and brings her to parties instead of actually trying to integrate her to the local scene or teaching her about music or history. Eventually he goes back to hooking up with Pandora, something he apparently does frequently because Joey is not the first person he’s cheated on and literally everyone in town warns Joey about it. Victor clearly has a massively inflated ego and you love to hate him in the end. There are definitely his type in goth scenes around the world and I can see how he stays in good graces with the other asshole friends he has. Some people just really like being elitists. The one thing I can’t figure out, though, is why Pen and Cob are friends with him. They’re so nice compared. A punk by jacket only and why casual homophobia makes me salty. Antonio is... hoo boy, is he a thing. First introduced starting a fight with Victor you think, "Ah, this is the antagonist of the movie. I wonder why they made the punk an asshole? Usually punks are okay with goths." Luckily for us, he apologizes for the outburst and becomes a friend of the main cast. We learn he likes canasta and plays guitar. Oddly, he doesn't seem to have any punk patches or pins on his jacket and never actually mentions punk music. He does, however, mention goth music and he seems familiar with the other goths in town going to their events, so it seems he's on good standing with them despite bullying the goths at the beginning of the film. Seeing as goths would rather pretend to be haughty vampires than get their tail coats in a twist, Antonio makes for a heroic figure in the movie when Joey is in trouble. In my notes I wrote, "Ten bucks says punk kid is gonna save her,” and lo and behold, Antonio comes out of nowhere to save Joey from some bullies. I do like that he uses his rough appearance to his advantage to help people and do the right thing. That pretty accurately describes every punk I’ve ever met. They look tough as nails, but you’ll only see that side of them if you absolutely deserve to.

It's also revealed that Antonio is not straight as he's seen making out with some guy at a concert, mentions having had a previous relationship with Victor, and is being made fun of for being gay in the end. He also ends the film by being Joey's boyfriend. Pardon, what? I'm kind-of tired of this heteronormative nonsense where movies have to end with all main characters (Sans the villain, of course.) end up in a happy straight relationship. Joey's non-goth friend who's in the movie for a very short amount of time also ends up with a goth boyfriend because happily-ever-after and all that. It probably wouldn't have sat as poorly with me if they didn't make fun of Antonio for "looking gay" which in context makes no sense since he's pretty gender conforming compared to the goth men in the film. It also didn’t help that there were comments about lesbians at the beginning of the movie. At one point Joey's grandparents suggest she might like girls and Joey rebukes it with vitriol saying her grandparents are "too cool". The same kind of vitriol you hear when a straight person tells you they could never imagine being gay, that's disgusting. Oh, but they support your "choices", hm? I just wish Antonio’s character was a bit more fleshed out and he didn’t end up being back-up male love interest that’s only there to save female lead from bad guys and heartbreak. First rule of Goth Music is you don’t talk about Goth Music? The movie introduces goth along with music. The music in the film is honestly really good and a good portrayal of what goths actually listen to. Joey mentions she likes the music near the beginning and she goes to events such as a silent disco, a party, and a concert. Despite music obviously being a major source of community in the movie, no one actually talks about it other than that one instance of Joey mentioning she likes it. No one suggests bands to her or actually goes to the parties or concerts to do anything other than make out. The silent disco is the only real instance of them listening and dancing to the music and it feels like it's over in a flash. Though, the corny goth dance moves in that scene kind-of make up for it. At one point Antonio pulls out a guitar and asks if Joey wants him to play “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”. She mentions she’s never heard of it which leads Antonio to ask if she’s new to the scene. At another point in the party, Joey asks someone if they like Marylin Manson. While this is an obvious faux pas to anyone actually in the goth scene, no one actually engages with her in conversation about it. How was Joey supposed to know his music isn’t goth? Wasn’t she listening to goth music earlier at the silent disco? Or the music she said sounded pretty from Victor’s room when they met? How did she get this far liking these bands but not noticing that they sound nothing like Marylin Manson and did she never look them up on her own to listen to them later? She obviously likes them, so it really surprises me that she only got in the goth scene for a guy.

Robert Smith NEVER has smeared lipstick. /s The emphasis on appearance is a little annoying throughout the movie, but I guess it had to be. It fits Victor's personality to change Joey's personal style to match his, and the makeover scene was fun, but I wish there would have been more diversity in the cast of townie goths who attend the parties, concerts, and discos. I counted one person with blonde hair and a small handful of older goths. I didn't notice any non-white goths and unfortunately the movie placed quite the emphasis on pale skin and trying to avoid tanning. I know people like the white face along with dark make-up and looking vamp-ish, but when all your characters are in white greasepaint and there's no PoC to be seen in goth garb it sends a message that only white people can be goth and that's really something we need to kill in the subculture. I did, however, like the wardrobe choices. I liked that Joey got her wardrobe from a thrift store and that she dyed a top she already owned. She looked up tutorials on how to do her hair and make-up and it never looked perfect. That's a good thing. Baby Bats won't know how to do a bats nest hairstyle, they won't know to blend foundation to the neck, and they won't have a perfect eyeliner wing. No one mentioned alt-brand name clothing and no one had a perfectly couture outfit that media likes to sell as a stereotypical goth teenager. The goths actually looked like goths. Their wardrobes were things you'd actually see in a club and we get to see that they wear a plain black tank top and shorts when milling about the house, only breaking out the corsets and top hats for big events. The older goths were more well put together and that makes sense because they've been in the subculture longer and have had time to figure out what they like and what looks good on them. The costuming department did a really great job with this. Ah, but as a side note about wardrobe, who donates brand new, tall Docs to a thrift store??? You can’t sit with us. And sadly, the worst part of Goth in the movie- community. What was that, film? Other than the three main goths, we only get to see other goths at large events and they all seem a bit catty? You have the silent disco, which was cute but no one really spoke to or interacted with each other. Pen and Cob are kind-of doing their own thing throughout no matter who they’re with. We also have the house party and the concert. The other goths there are.... pretty much just there to be judgy because Joey’s new? The first time I went to a club in a new city and didn’t know anyone some random person grabbed my hands and dragged me to the dancefloor. It was fun! People would ask the DJ what he was spinning and they weren’t shamed for not knowing. If someone’s jacket ripped, five people would come out of the woodwork with a safety pin and afterwards we’d all pile into Denny’s and laugh and joke and talk about nothing. I’m not saying there’s no “Gothier-than-Thou” types, believe me I’ve met more than a few, but in a movie that’s trying to portray someone WANTING to become a goth, why not portray the subculture as more inviting? Also, with the comments from Victor and a few other remarks, it seems like alcohol is needed to blend into the goth scene, and that definitely isn’t the case. Sure, a lot of us love absinth or a snakebite in black, but it’s not needed to fit in with the cool kids at the club. The community really is my favorite thing about this subculture and I feel it was a disservice that most goths were showcased as uninviting. I can understand Joey not being wanted at the party initially as she wasn’t invited in the first place and perhaps the eldergoths in the room didn’t want to have to have an impromptu etiquette and history lesson with a babybat when they’re supposed to be relaxing, but the point of the movie was to showcase why Joey wants to be a goth. She never makes friends outside of Victor’s immediate group and never tries to find community or information about the scene online or anything. I guess that is how babybats do act a lot of the time, but again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, the point of the movie is showing why someone would WANT to be a goth. Final Thoughts. The goth scene in the movie looked like a regular goth scene. I liked the emphasis on thrifting and DIY and that newcomers don’t come out of the womb knowing the lyrics to the entirety of Floodland. The music was phenomenal. I liked that the music featured was goth music, but not the main five bands that everyone already knows. I liked that the events attended were focused mainly around music. I liked seeing actual goth dance moves on screen. I liked that people in the movie did use terminology found in the subculture and made jokes about the subculture that insiders would actually make. I liked that Pen and Cob were wonderfully peppy despite their dark interests, I liked that we got punk-goth solidarity. I liked that it did remind me a bit of my babybat years and got me missing clubs and events. I miss all my friends... I really do...

I was put off by the passage of time in the movie, Joey’s cattiness with anyone who tries to help her, the light and casual homophobia sprinkled in, and the negative-leaning portrayal of the goth community. Other than that, though, I did think it was a good movie with a satisfying ending and I would really suggest people check it out. It’s probably the most accurate portrayal of goths in any media, really, and it’s worth a watch. At the very least, go listen to the soundtrack on BandCamp.

#gothgoth #goth #my summer as a goth #movie review #long post

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artsythembo · 4 years ago

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Make Up Work - Chapter 1

Tw: Bullying, Minor violence

Nathan Rosen is tired of constantly being pushed around. He put his foot down and even got some kids suspended but now they're back! Nathan needs to fend off old enemies and without realizing it may grow closer to one than her ever thought possible.

The keyboard clacked rigorously as Nathan typed on his latest story. He knew the clock was ticking. However, he also knew this was what he loved and math class wasn't. With only five minutes left he found himself knee deep in the atmosphere and barely noticed when his timer went off. Three till, now he had to get to class. Begrudgingly he packed up his laptop and threw his bag over his shoulder. Making his way out of the library he kept his head down. Get to class and make it through the day.

As he made his way through the hallway he felt bumps and heard jeers. Insults flew at him like flies to fly paper but despite them sticking he ignored it the best he could. The last thing he needed right now was a fight and besides he knew he'd lose. It was thankfully a short walk to Miss Gallard's math class so he made it with little damage. He kept his mind on his stories as he sat in the second row, wanting to hear the lesson but not wanting to appear like a total nerd. Looking around he noticed something, or more like the lack of something. Seat five of row four was unoccupied. That's where Ryan usually sat or at least used to. Spying discretely around the room he noted Ryan was still nowhere to be seen. Thank god.

The last thing he needed was to deal with him. Ryan was one of the worst kids in the school, violent and demanding. He was always making Nathan do his homework, or at least he did before he disappeared. One day Nathan walked in dreading another day and no one demanded his lunch money. That was a month ago and it was honestly a pretty sweet month of no bullies! All his usual bullies had been suspended and then a week later Ryan went missing. He sure as hell didn't miss them! Especially Ryan, he was never anything but a jerk. The bell rang and with a whistle Miss Gallard's got the back row to chat quieter as she began class.

"Good morning students," She said less than enthusiastically, "I do hope you all studied as instructed because today is the day," She pulled out a small pile of papers. "midterms."

The students groaned as she passed out a few papers to those without laptops. There were a few boys sitting in the back who Nathan knew all too well, Jared and his gang. Those kids were real pieces of work. Nathan could feel them glaring at the back of his neck as he grabbed out his laptop. Theirs had been confiscated by the school after they were caught cyberbullying other kids, including him. He did his best to ignore them, but he knew they were planning trouble. It was because of him they got suspended. He sighed internally as they flicked papers at the back of his neck. At least Ryan is still gone.

He turned his attention to getting the test page up. Nathan was always good with tests and studied hard so he hoped things would be fine. Miss Gallard walked back to the front of the room and addressed the teens.

"Alright this will be an hour long exam, you will be timed. Quite a lot of your grade relies on this so good luck." Nathan did his best clicking through answers at an alright pace. He vaguely noticed other kids putting away their laptops and even Jared and them taking up their papers. Once finished Nathan submitted. He wasn't the last one done but certainly had taken his time. Closing the tab he opened his word processor and continued work on his story. He lost himself deep in the characters so deep in fact that he didn't notice the bell ring. Of course everyone else was in a hurry to get to lunch and he didn't have any friends in the class so no one bothered to tell him. Until Miss Gallard tapped him on the shoulder.

"Are you going to lunch?" she questioned. It was then that He noticed the time. Crap! He quickly shut his laptop and shoved it into his bag walking quickly out the room. Once he was out of sight of the teacher he began sprinting. He really didn't want to miss lunch. Running he found himself drifting back to his story. The main character Ariana Valentine, he loved her so much, was a bad-ass outlaw on the run in a futuristic society. She was living her hectic life before she met Grey Lawson, an upstanding citizen of the new world who insists she change her ways. Through some pretty cool circumstances this unlikely pair are stuck together on the run from the government trying to break down a conspiracy! Nathan felt a little like he was floating as he ran at a breakneck pace. Maybe that was why he didn't notice the person in his way until he ran into them. The wind was knocked out of him as Nathan bounced back.

"Hey! What the-!" Nathan froze as his eye opened to the sight of a white and red letterman jacket with a patch in the shape of a capital R.

Crap! He knew who was inside this jacket and rather than look up he hoped he could slip past him. He wanted to go to lunch and pretend this never happened. Unfortunately he was never that lucky. As he attempted to silently stare forward and walk around he felt the familiar tug of a fist on his shirt collar.

His eyes shut again as the wind was knocked out of him for the second time. Colliding with the wall hurt but not near as much as he was about to if he didn't choose his next words carefully. Opening his eyes he saw the angry, bruised face of none other than Ryan Hyalls staring him down. He spoke slowly as if calming a rabid animal.

"Hey Ryan, long time no see…" Ryan looked him up and down clearly in a bad mood. Oh boy.

"So I'm gone a couple weeks and you think you can start throwing attitude?" Fuck.

"No, no, no. Of course not I didn't know it was you is, um all!" He knew he was slipping he had to act fast before this turned sour.

"And? Any more excuses?" Jeez he is in a bad mood today. Nathan stays silent unsure what to say. Act fast.

"No, no, I'm sorry." Ryan seemed to calm slightly letting Nathan down. "Look I'm super sorry to have caused any trouble." Nathan spoke somewhat frantically moving slowing in a half circle around Ryan. "So I'll go and stop bothering you! I'm sure you want to get to lunch." Nathan was about to bolt when Ryan grabbed his arm.

"Not without my lunch money I'm not." He held out a hand expectantly and Nathan cursed to himself. Great… He rolled his eyes internally but did as the older teen demanded. He even added a nervous. "O-of course!" The weaker he appeared, the less threatened the bully would be or at least that's what his mother said. Nathan handed the money from his wallet into Ryan's expecting hand. As Ryan counted the money Nathan backed away slowly and turned.

"Oh no you don't!" Ryan reached out before Nathan bolted and grabbed him by the arm. His hand was big enough to completely encase the younger boys arm. Nathan turned panicked hoping he could have gotten away and for the first time since the conversation began Ryan smiled.

It wasn't a kind smile, not even close! It was a wicked kind of smile a car salesman had before ripping off an old lady. Nathan wanted to yell for help but he knew better so when Ryan began dragging him around the school halls he let it happen. "Where are we going?" He asked exasperated but Ryan refused to answer and kept smiling.

It wasn't long before they reach their destination, a janitors closet. Nathan was confused until he saw the door propped open with a book, then he was terrified. Ryan pulled him forward opening the door and shoving him in. Nathan barely kept his balance and turned in time to see the door shut.

He wasn't sure what would happened next and the air was tense. Ryan opened his bag and pulled out a folder throwing it to Nathan who barely caught It. It was green and read HISTORY across the front in bold black lettering. Nathan looked up in confusion.

"What? You know your job. Ive been gone for a month. So that means lots of make up work for me. Or more accurately for you." Ryan smiled a grin that could kill kittens and Nathan fumed. Seriously? He scares the shit out of me to make me do his homework! Nathan would've voiced these complaint but Ryan blocked the door. Knowing this could go much worse Nathan sat down and got started. There was so much and Ryan was a grade above him so Nathan had his work cut out for him. As he worked through it he did his best, even pulling out his phone to look stuff up. He knew these papers had to get a good grade, or else.

After a bit Nathan decided to try his luck. He could see other kids in the hall heading to the lunch room and knew he'd miss it entirely if he didn't try.

"You know I could get this done a lot faster if I had some food?" Nathan bit his lip hoping this would work but unfortunately Ryan turned his face sarcastically to the trapped boy.

"Oh really?" He pretend to think about it before plainly stating, "No." Nathan knew he was already pushing it but he was hungry.

"Come on, please? Something small at least?" He begged. This time Ryan ignored him. Nathan grew desperate and nearly shouted. "Aw come on man! I'm already doing your work you could at least let me eat!" Nathan quickly regretted his tone as the older boy stood up walking towards him. Nathan prepared himself for trouble and quickly back-tracked.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean-" He was cut off as Ryan got right up in his face and pointed to the papers on his lap with a stern look. Nathan swallowed a knot in his throat as Ryan's demeanor dared Nathan to challenge him further. He didn't and thankfully Ryan went back and sat down messing around on his phone.

Nathan sighed internally and turned back to the work. Whatever! I'll get it done and then I wouldn't have to worry about it. He sat and worked on history above his grade level for far longer than he felt he should have been. Still eventually the bell rang and Ryan stood up. Thank god I can finally leave.

Nathan got up as well stuffing all the papers he had managed to get done back in the folder. Ryan opened the door and Nathan followed him out. He tried to hand Ryan the folder but with a dissatisfied look he shoved it back into Nathans possession. Nathan was confused and a bit angry.

"I did the work." He insisted. Ryan stared him down like this was a waste of his time and shoved back the folder.

"Do the rest." Nathan hoped this wouldn't happen but clearly that didn't mean much to the universe that day.

"What?" Nathan blurted but Ryan smirked.

"I want it done by tonight." He shoved Nathan back and walked away as the dumbfounded boy fumed unable to do anything.

#original fiction #oc #my ocs #tw bullying #tw violence #ryan hyalls #nathan rosen #nat rosen #make up work #romance #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #mlm #gay #lgbt #lgbt stories

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ellewritesathing · 4 years ago

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Infernal VIII

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.4k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 8

Ever since you were eleven years old, you’d been going to the Paramount once a week with Theo to share a large popcorn with m&ms poured over the top, two large sodas, and the biggest bag of Sour Patch Kids that money from dog walking, tutoring, and scrounging between the couch cushions could buy. The dark was a blanket of safety and anonymity for an hour or two, and you loved it more than anything. It was two hours of you, Theo, and whatever rerun was showing that weekend. One of only two movie theatres in Greendale, The Paramount stood as a testament to friendship and the enduring power of bad cinema.

Sharing the Paramount and all its memories with Caliban was nerve-wracking.

If he noticed your non-stop fidgeting, he didn’t say anything. He was perfectly composed as he watched stressed out parents corral their screaming children - shoulders relaxed, mouth upturned, and hand easily laced through yours.

“You know, I never cared much for children,” he said. He suppressed a laugh when one of the kids threw pieces of popcorn at their dad. “But I’m starting to think they may not be such loathsome little creatures after all. Given a little direction, they could surpass any of Hell’s torturers.”

You would have laughed at his joke if you’d been listening, but you were too busy watching the specials board light up his face red, orange, and yellow that caught on the edges of his hair. “Is this your first date?” you asked.

Caliban raised an eyebrow as he turned to you and you stammered out an explanation. Impulse control had never been one of your strong suits, and it had been on the decline lately. Putting you out of your misery with a sly smile, he said, “Yes.”

“Wait-” you tugged on his hand slightly as the two of you moved forward in the line “-does that mean I’m your first kiss?”

Caliban laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “My first kiss was with a succubus.”

You weren’t sure what kind of answer you were expecting, but that particular one caught you off guard. “Oh. That’s pretty cool. Do you guys keep in touch?”

“Are you in touch with your first kiss?” Caliban asked, throwing another smile at you as the two of you walked over the counter. He let you order and pay in peace, but he asked again when you were flavoring the popcorn, clearly amused by your awkwardness.

You were in the middle of explaining that your first kiss had been on a dare at one of the worst, least supervised birthday parties you’d ever been to when someone bumped into and spilled your popcorn all over the floor. They kept walking.

They only cleared a few feet before the Darkness lashed out and you yelled at them. “Hey! Are you going to apologize?”

You recognized them once they turned around. He was one of the kids from the lacrosse team who’d bullied Theo back in freshman year. With possibly the fakest smile you’d seen, Charlie said, “Chill. It was an accident.”

“Apologize.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Say you’re sorry.”

His body relaxed and his eyes took on a familiar glassy, hollow quality as he mumbled an apology. You smiled.

“Good.” You took a step forward to close the distance between you. “Now give me your wallet.” He did so without a word, the charm overwhelming any reservations he may have had. He faltered slightly when you took out most of the cash, but you told him to be quiet. With a smile, you handed his wallet back to him. “Enjoy your movie.”

Charlie blinked twice, slowly, but then he nodded. “You too,” he said uncertainly. He stumbled down the hall and looked at you again as he rounded a corner, completely dumbstruck.

You waved at him, turning back to Caliban with a smile. “Ready to watch the movie?”

The easiness from earlier was gone; Caliban’s jaw was tense and his eyes were narrowed. He didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall. “What was that?”

You shrugged. “I wanted him to apologize.”

“Are you sure that’s all you wanted?” he asked, pushing himself off the wall. His movements were easy, but his words were strained.

“Yes,” you lied, unclenching your fists. When you stole a glance at your palms, they were coated in a thin layer of darkness, smudged around the area where you’d dug your nails in to keep from knocking the false smile off Charlie’s face.

---

“Wait, so you’re like … Hannah Montana if she was a teenage witch and he’s like- what is he? Your Jesse?”

Out of all the reactions you’d imagined after telling your friends that the mother you’d spent your whole life looking for turned out to be a literal demon, a Hannah Montana comparison hadn’t even made the top ten.

“Harvey, don’t you think you’re being a little-”

To be fair, they’d handled the news about Lilith better than expected. Harvey was confused, Theo was happy you found your mom even if she’d tried to kill them all before, Sabrina helped smooth things over, and Roz admitted to having her suspicions for a while.

“What? I’m just trying to understand why the guy that tried to rule Hell and enslave us all is sitting on my couch.”

It was only when things came to Caliban that their understanding faltered. Even Sabrina, trying her best, didn't quite understand.

“I’m sitting on your couch because I was invited, Huckleberry Finn.”

After defeating the Darkness and unbinding your powers, you’d gone to Sabrina’s with a tub of ice cream and explained everything. A weight that had been slowly crushing you was lifted off your chest that night, but it came back in full force with every angry word from Harvey. It wasn’t like you’d expected him to understand, but you’d hoped he would at least try.

“Okay!” Standing up, you let out a weighty breath and held out your hands to stop them from speaking. “Will you two stop antagonizing one another for five minutes?”

Reluctantly, Caliban nodded as Harvey collapsed back in his chair and grumbled, “Fine, but I still don’t like him.”

“You don’t have to like him. You just have to respect that I like him,” you said. Harvey didn’t seem convinced, so you sighed and tried to come up with a new strategy. Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to Harvey. “Do you know what it’s like to feel like a piece of you is missing?” To Roz, “Like there’s something wrong with you because you just don’t fit in with everyone else?” To Theo, “And then you figure out what it is and you can’t tell anyone because you don’t think they’d care about you anymore if they found out?” You wiped your face haphazardly and stared at the Smashing Pumpkins poster peeling off the back wall. “It fucking sucks.”

“And I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Harvey said, standing up and blocking your view of the poster. “I am. But you can’t expect me to be okay after finding out that you spent the last three months lying to everyone and dating that asshole.”

“I didn’t want to lie to you!” You felt the Darkness rising in your throat and did your best to push it down. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked back at Harvey and tried not to cry. “Is it so hard to believe that I was scared to tell you, or did you forget when you cut Sabrina out of your life when she told you?”

Harvey frowned. His hand twitched at his side as he glanced at Sabrina. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Yeah, I know, because she was the most important person in your life and I’m just the kid that lives next door.” Your voice broke and Harvey stepped forward to give you a hug. The Darkness lurched at the movement and you stepped back to keep it from hurting him. Taking another step back, you started gathering your stuff. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Hey, just hold on a second, okay?” Harvey tried to grab your wrist to stop you, and you couldn’t stop the Darkness from lashing out this time.

“Don’t touch me.”

Harvey frowned, his hand outstretched and frozen, and a familiar, glassy film cloud covered his eyes. The air was sucked out of the room as Harvey blinked and tried to recover. His hand still hung in the air. Your heart broke.

“I need to go,” you rushed out, scrambling for the door. You didn’t care about the stuff you dropped or the fact that Caliban was sitting on the couch the last you saw - all you cared about was getting out before you did anything worse. Still, you froze in the doorway. Over your shoulder, you mustered up all your courage and said, “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure if any of your friends heard you over their concern for Harvey or if they just didn’t want to respond, but at least Caliban caught up to you in the silence. He didn’t reach out for you for the rest of the night, all he did was stare at you with stormy, unfathomable eyes.

---

Hilda Spellman was the closest thing you’d ever had to a mother; she was warm and inviting, and always made your favorite cupcakes if you were having a bad day. She made sure that your dad always had something on the table for dinner. She took you shopping every year before school started. She let you stay in their house for almost a month when you were convinced that your bedroom was haunted. Hilda Spellman deserved nothing but happiness.

So why couldn’t you suck it up for one day and give her the perfect wedding that she deserved?

Because, despite your best efforts, you were still upset at how things had unfolded with your friends. While Theo and Roz forgave you for lying and accepted you for being a witch, they weren’t sure they could give Caliban a chance after he lashed out at Harvey. Talking to Harvey might have solved that problem, but he was pretty much set on avoiding you. You didn't blame him after what you did to him, even if he didn't know what exactly it was you did to him.

All this drama might not have been an issue otherwise, but they were the only people you knew at this wedding. So far, the only other people to show up were witches that were preoccupied with either the Uninvited or the incubus on the loose.

When you noticed Nick had disappeared from door duty, you finished your drink and set the glass down. Sliding in next to Sabrina, you bumped her arm with your elbow and held your hand out for some of the programs. “Need a hand?”

“Not really, but I’ll take the company,” she said with a smile. She handed you a stack of creamy pink programs and laughed wistfully. “Nick was supposed to help me with this but he’d rather get busy with Prudence in the coat closet.”

You tried not to laugh as you handed a program to a very solemn-looking witch. “Yeah, well, at least he’s talking to you,” you said, watching the witch disappear into the steadily growing crowd.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Harvey will come around,” she said, pausing to smile as she handed out another program. “He’s just scared of losing you in all this.”

“You know, Caliban actually said something similar after we left the other night.” This time, you didn’t bother hiding your laughter. Sabrina didn’t bat an eye at taking on an eldritch terror, but the possibility of Caliban having a valid point seemed to shake her to her core. “He said that I shouldn’t be so hard on Harvey because all he wants is to keep me safe, but this is the one thing that he can’t protect me from. The magic and … getting my heart broken.”

Sabrina tried to reign in her surprise, but she still seemed stunned as she handed out another program. “That … actually makes sense.”

“Weird, right?” You stole a look at the line forming outside the church and your heart ached when you saw your friends lugging their band equipment through the parking lot. It was going to be a long night.

Sabrina followed your gaze and sighed. “So ... where is Caliban? You RSVPed that you were bringing a plus-one but I don’t see him anywhere.”

You tore your eyes away from the band to hand out another program. Shaking your head, you said, “I was going to bring him, but then I figured that this was Hilda’s special day and she didn't need a fistfight between her lead singer and a plus one.”

“Well, I think you should bring him,” Sabrina said. “What? Just because I’m going to be sad and alone the whole night doesn’t mean you have to.”

So, after a quick check with Hilda, you invited Caliban. He agreed to come, if you promised to talk to him about your lesser angels creeping in.

You could feel Harvey staring at the back of your head throughout the whole ceremony, but Theo sat next to you and Robin said he’d save you guys a seat at the reception. Things were starting to look up, even if they were a little weird.

As awkward as the ceremony had been, the reception was great. Caliban was as charming as ever, winning over Theo and Robin and making witches swoon left and right. Despite all your time together, you’d never seen him this comfortable around others. A room without demons or humans, it seemed, was where you found common ground.

Until Sabrina’s toast.

She lost credibility before she even opened her mouth by stumbling up the stage steps. Opening with a joke, she had a solid two and a half seconds before she started drawing attention to every couple in the nearby vicinity - starting with Harvey and Roz, glossing over Theo and Robin to mention you and Caliban, and eventually landing on Nick and Prudence. Sabrina tried to save the toast by circling back to Hilda, but it was too late. She crashed into the drums, said she’d be single for a century and a half, and was dragged off-stage by Zelda while the Fright Club scrambled to perform their set.

Amidst the chaos, Caliban ducked his head closer to yours and brought his drink to his lips. “You know,” he said, pausing to take a sip, “If you’d told me how much fun these gatherings were, I would have come with you a long time ago.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his drink and shifted in your seat so you could lean against him. “Does that mean I can sign you up for the book club?”

“That depends. What are we reading?” Caliban asked. He looked away from the stage to meet your eyes.

“The Feminine Mystique.”

“Oh, okay.”

Laughing, you tilted your head up to kiss his jaw. Settling back into your seat and intertwining your hands, you said, “Well, if it counts for anything, I’m glad you’re here now.”

If you thought the worst part of the night was Sabrina’s toast, you were totally and completely unprepared for the incubus attack. It jumped from Theo to Harvey to Melvin before landing in the Uninvited. Their eyes were wild for a moment, but then the Uninvited shuddered as their eyes returned to a deep, empty brown. They’d eaten the incubus, and moments later they bit into Dorian’s heart like an apple.

There was something unbearably sad about the Uninvited, and the Darkness within you ached to fix them. It didn’t matter that they toasted to the end of all things, all that mattered was that they were alone. You started reaching out for them when Caliban took his hand in yours and pulled you closer to him.

“I am the Herald of the Void. I feast on the hearts of those that reject me. And someone here turned me away, therefore, death to you all.” The Uninvited smiled and downed whatever had been in their glass.

Tipping your glass towards the Uninvited, you drank to their toast as Hilda apologized for turning them away. She tried to invite them, but the Uninvited said it was too late. They’d already been turned away.

Nick stepped forward as the one that had turned the Uninvited away to sacrifice himself, but Sabrina tugged him back by the edge of his sleeve. Prudence was one step behind, holding Nick close to her chest as Sabrina offered the Uninvited a heart of sorts. She explained that she’s been wandering a cosmos of her own lately, feeling hopelessly alone, and just wanting to belong somewhere with someone. If they got married, the Uninvited would have her heart and a place to belong, always. Forevermore, they’d be the Invited.

The Darkness grew unruly as the Uninvited considered her proposal, and for a moment you thought they’d do as the Darkness wanted and rip Sabrina’s heart from her ribcage. Instead, all they did was nod.

---

Cold bit at your fingertips as you sat, knees pulled up to your chest, on the wall outside the desecrated church, but the stolen Mother’s Ruin kept your stomach warm. The sun had disappeared somewhere between the fake wedding and trapping the Uninvited in Sabrina’s old dollhouse, October chill coming in with the night sky, but you welcomed the change. Indifferent sunshine to apathetic stars.

Pouring out a bit of gin on the dead flowers below, you said a silent prayer for the Uninvited. Not for forgiveness, but maybe understanding. Hoping it would make the Darkness subside.

The crunching of dried grass underfoot interrupted your thoughts.

“This seat taken?”

You shrugged but moved over all the same to make space for Harvey. He threw a lanky leg over the side of the wall as he let out a deep breath. When he was settled, you offered him some of the Mother’s Ruin but he shook his head.

“No, uh, I’m good. Thanks though.” Harvey drummed uncertainly on the sides of the wall, watching carefully as you drank his rejected share of the gin. “So I was thinking about something the Uninvited said back there - about wandering around all alone until the terrors welcomed them to their club?”

Raising an eyebrow, you asked, “Are you about to call my boyfriend a terror?”

Harvey laughed, a deep, unsure sound, and looked down at the wall again. “Well, he is, but no.” He sighed and tried to get back to his point. “Look, I know I’m not the best at handling change. When Sabrina … I don’t know. It just- it kills me that you felt like you felt so alone and didn’t think you could talk to me.”

“Harvey-”

“Wait, let me finish.” Harvey took another deep breath. His nose was red, either from the cold or because he was holding back tears. “I never ever wanted to be the reason why you got hurt. But I was, and I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.”

You slid your hand over his. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

“I’m still not done.”

“Of course, you’re not.”

Harvey choked out another laugh and smiled. “Don’t tell Theo but you’re my best friend. And if Caliban makes you happy then … I kinda owe it to you to give him a shot.”

“So you’ll stop antagonizing him?” you asked, sitting up a bit straighter and pointing the bottle of gin at Harvey’s chest.

“Well, I never said that,” Harvey said dramatically. He laughed and pulled his other leg over the wall, taking the bottle from you and pulling a face after he tasted it. “Okay, what stars are we looking at tonight?”

You threw your legs over the side and let out a deep breath as you leaned against Harvey’s arm. “Fuck if I know. Tommy was the one who remembered all that stuff.”

“You just wanna make some up?” Harvey asked. He put his arm around your shoulder and handed the bottle back to you.

Hugging the bottle to your chest to keep the Darkness warm as it slept, you looked up to the sky and pointed to a cluster of stars. “That one’s you because it’s ugly.”

Tagged: @caliban-is-my-girl @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @music-movies @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @olivia-west-allen @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24

#Infernal #caos #caos rewrite #chilling adventures of sabrina #Caliban #caliban x reader #caliban imagine

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rainybirdsweets · 3 years ago

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Xylitol Research and Evidence

Xylitol is a non-sugar sweetener extracted from the birch tree. It is a five-carbon polyol that has effectively demonstrated itself to be cariogenic, by its action of neutralizing plaque acidity on teeth and repairing tooth enamel. Hence, it is also called the “magic bullet.”

The major production of xylitol goes to the pharmaceutical and oral hygiene industries and to confectionary manufacturers. It has 30% less calories compared to table sugar (calorific value of xylitol is 2.4 kcal/g, while that of sugar is 4 kcal/g) and is used in different food products for children like chewing gum, candies, gelatin, and in lozenges, toothpaste, and mouth rinses.

Xylitol and Dental Caries

Clinical trials on xylitol show that it plays a major role in prevention of dental caries in babies and teenaged children and in the fetus through the mother. Use of xylitol chewing gum is directly related to reduction of dental caries. Moreover, xylitol also reduces the s. mutans transmission from mother to infant.

Another research on children has found that xylitol candy, pops, ice, gums, puddings, and cookie help in arresting dental caries. Follow-up studies five years later showed that xylitol gum resulted in reduction of caries by 59% against no gum use.

Trials conducted in Finland, a major producer of xylitol, proved that children of xylitol-treated mothers’ had lower levels of s. mutans than those treated with fluoride varnish or chlorhexidine.

Other Impacts of Xylitol

Accumulation of excessive xylitol in the intestine leads to retention of water, which results in diarrhea. Consumption of excessive volumes of xylitol can lead to side effects such as gas and bloating. Xylitol which remains unabsorbed is eliminated after being broken into carbon dioxide. A report published by the European Union’s Scientific Committee on Food in 1985 stated that consuming 50 g of xylitol per day can lead to diarrhea. The Committee also affirmed that tabletop sweeteners that contain xylitol must be highlighted with a warning saying: “Too much of consumption may lead to laxative effects.”

The impact of xylitol is much less on the blood sugar levels compared with natural sugar, because of the gradual absorption rate of xylitol. This fact was approved in a xylitol review by the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA). This indicates that xylitol could help people with disrupted tolerance of glucose, a leading risk factor for cardiovascular disease and diabetes.

Health benefits and risks of chocolate

Chocolate is made from tropical Theobroma cacao tree seeds. Its earliest use dates back to the Olmec civilization in Mesoamerica.

After the European discovery of the Americas, chocolate became very popular in the wider world, and its demand exploded.

Chocolate has since become a popular food product that millions enjoy every day, thanks to its unique, rich, and sweet taste.

Fast facts on chocolate

Chocolate consumption has long been associated with conditions such as diabetes, coronary heart disease, and hypertension.

Chocolate is believed to contain high levels of antioxidants.

Some studies have suggested chocolate could lower cholesterol levels and prevent memory decline.

Chocolate contains a large number of calories.

People who are seeking to lose or maintain weight should eat chocolate only in moderation.

History of Candy

Candy is made by dissolving sugar in water or milk to form syrup. The final texture of candy depends on the different levels of temperatures and sugar concentrations. Hot temperatures make hard candy, medium heat make soft candy and cool temperatures make chewy candy. The English word ''candy'' is in use since the late 13th century and it derives from Arabic qandi, meaning ''made of sugar''.

Honey has been a favorite sweet treat throughout recorded history and is even mentioned in the Bible. The ancient Egyptians, Arabs and Chinese candied fruits and nuts in honey which was an early form of candy. One of the oldest hard candies is barley sugar which was made with barley grains. The Mayans and the Aztecs both prized the cocoa bean, and they were the first to drink chocolate. In 1519, Spanish explorers in Mexico discovered the cacao tree, and brought it to Europe. People in England and in America ate boiled sugar candy in the 17th century.

Sour candy trends

Sour candy has captured the attention and taste buds of consumers who look for confectionery experiences outside of the standard of sweet, says Steve Schuster, president of Wisconsin-based Schuster Products, which makes a line of sour products called Face Twisters.

“It is extreme, and people like to push their sensation of taste,” he said. “They are now accustomed to this taste sensation and seek it because it moves beyond the norm.”

Jenny Doan, director of marketing for Warheads maker Impact Confections, agreed. She pointed to consumers’ palates becoming increasingly daring, especially as consumers experience more global cuisine.

“Globalization has exposed consumers to more sour foods across many categories — examples include Greek yogurt, fermented Korean kimchi, Chinese sour plums, etc.” she said. “Also food preparation techniques such as fermentation and pickling are gaining in popularity and spurring development for more sour foods and beverages.”

And the products in development come from several confectionery categories, including chewing gum, hard candy and chewy candy. Chewy candy also has experienced steady growth over the last few years. IRI, a Chicago-based research firm, reported the $3.73 billion non-chocolate chewy category grew by 3 percent in the year ending Feb. 24, 2019.

Of the Top 20 non-chocolate chewy candy brands IRI tracks, a quarter of them are positioned as sour candy, and at least another quarter have sour line extensions. Mondelez International’s Sour Patch Kids pulled in just over $197 million in the reporting period, while Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers generated $133.6 million.

The Untold Truth Of Gummy Bears

There are the people who love to munch on chocolate bars, from Butterfingers to Snickers, indulging in the perfect combination of sweet and salty. And then there are the candy lovers who are obsessed with anything chewy, gooey, and gummy. Gummy candies only seem to be rising in popularity, and really, there's a gummy candy in pretty much every shape out there at this point.

But despite the introduction of gummy candies like frogs, butterflies, and even mini soda bottles, gummy bears will forever be one of the most iconic gummy candies we turn to.

But what's the story behind these little gummy bears? How did they get their start, and what's in them that makes them so perfectly chewy? They're a ridiculously satisfying sweet when you're trying to curb a craving, but as it turns out, there's a lot more to their story than meets the eye. We decided to grab a handful and dig a little deeper. This is the untold truth of gummy bears.

The History of Lollipop Candy

The first incarnation of the lollipop candy was probably created by cave people thousands of years ago who collected honey from beehives with a stick. Not wanting to waste the sweet nectar, they most likely licked the stick, thus inventing the world’s first lollipop. Good for them (good for us). Archaeologists believe that ancient Chinese, Arabs, and Egyptians all produced fruit and nut confections that they "candied" in honey, which serves as a preservative, and inserted sticks into to make easier to eat.If the 17th Century English version doesn’t count as the first modern lollipop, you could look to the Civil War era for another early forerunner, when hard candy was put on the tips of pencils for children. The early 20th Century was the era of automation, which is when the birth of the lollipop as we now know it begins in earnest, but there are still discrepancies as to who is the true creator.

What Is Chewing Gum?

Chewing gum is a soft, rubbery substance that’s designed to be chewed but not swallowed.

Recipes can vary between brands, but all chewing gums have the following basic ingredients:

Gum: The non-digestible, rubbery base used to give gum its chewy quality.

Resin: Usually added to strengthen gum and hold it together.

Fillers: Fillers, such as calcium carbonate or talc, are used to give gum texture.

Preservatives: These are added to extend shelf life. The most popular choice is an organic compound called butylated hydroxytoluene (BHT).

Softeners: These are used to retain moisture and prevent the gum from hardening. They can include waxes like paraffin or vegetable oils.

Sweeteners: Popular ones include cane sugar, beet sugar and corn syrup. Sugar-free gums use sugar alcohols like xylitol or artificial sweeteners like aspartame.

Flavorings: Added to give a desired flavor. They can be natural or synthetic.

Candy

candy, also called confectionery, sweet food product, the main constituent of which generally is sugar. The application of the terms candy and confectionery varies among English-speaking countries. In the United States candy refers to both chocolate products and sugar-based confections; elsewhere “chocolate confectionery” refers to chocolates, “sugar confectionery” to the various sugar-based products, and “flour confectionery” to products such as cakes and pastries. This article is primarily concerned with sugar confectionery. Other types of confections are discussed in the articles baking and cocoa.

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nicostolemybones · 5 years ago

Text

3 Days + 1: Day 3

Solangelo Spring Ball 2020 collaboration with @solangelover

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4

We've been working on this together for a while now and we finally get to post!! I'm linking all the parts together so make sure you reblog them when the links are up and running! You can also find this on my AO3 and FF.N for my collab partner!

@solangeloweek

Nico couldn't sleep. He'd tried- and by tried, he meant closed his eyes for two hours, but his thoughts wouldn't stop racing. It was finally hitting him what a diagnosis of a chronic pain condition would truly mean. It meant pain wasn't temporary. It meant he wouldn't recover. It meant he was disabled. And that wasn't a bad thing, or a new thing- but it changed how he viewed his capabilities. He'd always had aches and pains in general, from fatigue and malnourishment he was sure, chronic nausea too. He knew he'd need more tests to determine the exact condition- there was a fair amount of damage to his limbs from the various injuries, nerve damage that flared up, and aches from the constant fatigue made worse by the damp, but his back had started to really hurt more over time, especially in the mornings. It was a deep, dull ache. His back and hips and shoulders ached and his dumb eyes were prone to inflammation and light sensitivity and blurred vision and his posture was terrible but honestly some days his pain stopped him getting out of bed of a morning.

He reached across his bed for the notes Will had made, skimming them. There were vague notes about watching out for fusing vertebrae and fractures and curvature and further breathing issues and future heart issues- something to do with the aorta and a risk of the valve- something going wrong with it, and that Arthur thing old people get in their joints (arthritis) and some other thing Nico wasn't even going to pretend to understand. Will's writing was terrible, and Nico was confused about ankles and spores written on the page (it did not, in fact, say anything about ankles ankles and spores, just that Will predicted it may have been ankylosing spondylitis, but he'd to run way more tests because onset was usually early adulthood and he couldn't rule out other conditions yet).

Nico put the notes away- he could barely understand them, and honestly, he didn't really want to. Especially because he'd barely been here a few days and Will couldn't accurately diagnose something that fast. He rolled onto his side, although rolling onto werewolf scratches was apparently horrendously painful, so he rolled back onto his back with a huff, gave up, and sat up in bed. Insomnia was here to stay and Nico craved death.

He reached for his water, ecstatic to find a small collection of pills- he didn't bother checking what they were- he just hoped they took the pain away. He stared at the wall, contemplating his life from now on. Maybe he'd have access to mobility aids that would help him get around easier, but also he might have to cut down on his training. He didn't know what to think. The idea of finally having answers appealed to him greatly, but he wasn't sure if he was going to get the answers he truly wanted. That wasn't anybody's fault, though. He decided not to dwell on it until he knew more.

Given the fact he'd be awake a while, he decided to make his way to the bathroom to take a long shower- and he realised he didn't even remember the last time he had showered, or really even stripped his clothes off completely for more than a few seconds. The water was so warm on his body, yet the patter of water was an intrusive sensation he wasn't used to. He was used to sink washes and river washes and bucket washes by now.

His skin was grey. Grey with patches of clean skin where he'd scratched, but otherwise otherwise a flaky grey brown tinge masked the olive skin beneath. He knew his hair was badly matted, and regretted that he'd most likely have to cut it out, both out of shame and pain prevention. He remembered the time when he was a little younger and his hair hadn't been brushed for a while, and it took five hours and a lot of crying to get his hair smooth again.

Nico was shaking. The dirt was so ingrained in his skin that this was his third time soaping himself up, flannel white with dead flakes of skin, trying to make his skin as clear as possible, although he was beginning to suspect that some of the mottled grayish tone over his olive brown skin was more to do with poor health. He'd been in the shower for so long his legs were aching and he was shaking despite the aid of a shower chair, and as Nico cupped his hip joint in his hand, he let out a shaky sob at the realisation that he'd lost weight. He felt fragile, weak, scared- because this wasn't healthy, he wasn't healthy, and he'd been so caught up in the trauma of war that he hadn't noticed the toll it was taking on his body.

He wanted to be healthy. He wanted his skin to return its usual healthy rich tan, he wanted the dull shade of pallor to fade. He looked like a ghost, or like a fresh corpse, drained of colour like there was no blood beneath the darker melanin of his skin. He was paler than he had been as a bouncy kid, sick.

As soon as he was clean enough he exited the shower, looking in the mirror whilst he leaned against the sink to catch his breath. His eyes were sunken, the delicate flesh below looking almost bruised in its grey/purple discolouration, and he looked… normal.

It surprised him.

Because he was so sure his distress was obvious, but he could only really see it in the dull pleading expression he wore in his eyes, the rest of his face neutral, maybe angry at best. He experimented with a pained expression, one so deeply ingrained into muscle memory that it almost felt more natural than resting, and almost cried when he saw he looked angry- or at least, what people told him angry was supposed to look like. He slowly closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before towelling himself off and picking up his clothes.

His clothes… now they were off his body and his sinuses were full of steam and the pleasant aroma of carbolic soap, he was finally able to detect that his clothes smelled like sour milk at best. The pits of his shirt were stained and particularly pungent, and Nico felt so ashamed that he hadn't noticed. The shirt was stained with various foods, months old, and there were small holes everywhere, like it was mothbitten or badly worn. His jeans smelled like eyeball dissections, a weird smell that whilst not exactly intense certainly wasn't pleasant by normal standards, a slight smell of rotting fresh too- and Nico supposed his skin had been flaking and rotting, confirmed by the inside of his jeans, which was coated liberally in dead skin cells that seemed stubborn to shift despite the copious amounts that fell to the floor. The denim was shiny and worn in some parts, and he decided not to give any more thought to the state of his jeans after thinking about all the lack of sanitation and choice that came with tartarus and the jar.

Nico never wanted his clothes to be discovered. He never wanted anybody to see the state they were in, the stains he didn't want to think about, or the smell of bad hygiene. He scrubbed them furiously in the sink, but he never wanted to wear them again, too small and too worn and too tight and too dirty and too traumatic- he'd endured so much trauma whilst in these clothes. He threw them in the bin, pulling off as much tissue as possible to shove over the top of his clothes in the bin, hoping the weight of them wouldn't raise suspicion.

And then it dawned on him that almost everything he owned was now in the bin so he scrambled to fetch them back out and scrub them until his skin was irritated, but he could swear that he could still smell every unpleasant stain and every unpleasant sweat patch and every unpleasant smell from the garbage. He hadn't realised that the blur to his vision was significantly worse, hindered and impaired and impeded by the hot rush of tears and panic as he pulled on his wet clothes.

He eventually sat back in the bed, cold and wet and hair still matted, his curls damaged and matting worse after months of no care and Nico using the wrong soap. He was shivering violently, but the cold felt almost comforting, a chilled relief he never had in Tartarus. It granted him some relief from the encompassing heat spreading through his body at patchy memories of Tartarus, but he had so much racing through his heads that it wasn't even a prominent thought or a flashback.

The cold soon became insidious, like the cold of the shadows, the dark, the sensation of fading, numb, intangible. His focus still didn't pick just one thought, but now he was hyperaware of them- from the burning throat from the waters of the Phlegathon to the icy nothingness of shadows, to the intrusive thoughts of graphic violence and horrifyingly strange acts of self mutilation to mental bombardment with his triggers.

He felt like existence was this room, was the bedsheets he voila numbly trust and a door with a light void upon the other side. It felt like the rest of the world didn't really exist, like it couldn't exist, because he couldn't perceive, interact with, or process and comprehend that it was real. It felt like he wasn't real, dissociated, seeing and suffering but not there, like he was in a dream or a coma. Was he?

He didn't have time to dwell on it, the sudden nauseous drop in his gut and the lump in his throat and tightening in his chest signifying the start of a panic attack.

The problem was, Nico was either terrible at controlling them, or did not outwardly react at all. The first option usually involved lots of zombies and dead plants, whilst the second usually meant people trying to hug him and talk to him during sensory overload. This time, Nico was alone and he needed to scream it out, but when he tried, he found himself non-verbal.

Everything felt off and it was too bright, too loud, too dark, too clinical- although he'd lost his sense of smell and taste, so thankfully, the clinical scent of antiseptic and blood couldn't assault his senses. But that didn't stop the shrill metallic beep of the heart monitor from giving Nico sharp jolts of pain, the small lights on the various monitors far too bright whilst the electric buzzing of the electrical outlets filled his head- and they all sounded different, because of different devices, which made it worse. And it was blindingly dark in the room now, which made the shadows whisper in a way that had his head pounding, trying to process if they were even real, and it was all just too much-

He clamped his hands painfully over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that he could feel the strain in his cheeks. He tugged at his hair, not even a distressed whimper or a cry for help able to escape, trapped by his own lack of voice in a time of distress.

His brain was shutting down and melting down, the racing thoughts unable to process like a browser with too many tabs open, nothing pausing but nothing closing, frozen with plenty of horrifying podcasts and videos playing with no pause at the same time, only it felt like they could touch him, and he couldn't shut them off.

He had nothing left to comfort himself, no way to voice his distress, only able to rock back and fourth in a vain attempt to soothe himself as the onslaught continued, and all he could do was sit there and cry hysterically for hours, hours of distress until…

How long had he been… staring at the wall for?

Nico shivered, emotionally and physically drained. He knew he was still non-verbal, so he didn't call for help. He briefly considered the panic button, but he didn't want to be a burden over a now resolved emotional breakdown of some kind. There had been flashbacks and sensory overload and he was pretty sure he'd experienced some kind of meltdown or shutdown, but he wasn't exactly a stranger to them.

He sat in his bed until the sky began to turn blue and the smallest hints of light eased the crawling feeling of the insidious, suffocating dark of a confined space, a closed door room, a claustrophobic nightmare.

Much to Will's chagrin, he woke to find several of the infirmary's plants officially dead, although as his sleep induced haze lifted with the stabilising buzz of caffeine to help organise his thoughts, he processed that Nico must have had a bad night. He grabbed a quick breakfast and some for Nico and rushed there as quick as he could.

Nico most certainly hadn't slept, his face puffy with both exhaustion and crying. He took a moment to observe, and Nico didn't seem to notice his presence, dissociated. It wasn't until Will moved his hand and little too fast that Nico suddenly snapped out of it, his hypervigilance kicking in as he flinched harshly, looking just about ready to put up a fight.

"It's okay," Will began gently, backing away slightly to show his intentions weren't to violate Nico's personal space boundaries. He waited until Nico visibly relaxed enough to hunch his shoulders before he proceeded to step fully into the room and take a seat on the chair besides him. Nico looked up at him with what looked like hope, or maybe a pleading expression- maybe something mistaken for anger in different circumstances, and whilst Will struggled to read people's emotions sometimes, he'd begun to learn Nico's, folding his expressions away neatly in a mental schema full of flowcharts amend checklists designed to accurately mentally code for different emotions.

Will had certainly observed levels of hypervigilance in Nico, but the way he would glance between the door and the shadows had Will distinctly concerned for his mental wellbeing- he appeared paranoid, skittish, and Will had on occasion poked his head around to find Nico mumbling to the shadows. Will had no way of knowing if that was because of genuine shadows or some form of psychosis that Nico seemed familiar with handling well on his own. He'd considered asking Hazel, but she may not have the exact same powers as Nico, and may not have been able to reliably tell Will whether the whispering shadows were normal or not if she didn't experience them herself. He'd have to ask Hades somehow. But not right now.

Will also didn't need a professional to tell him that Nico was severely depressed- he'd experienced it enough himself to know how to recognise it, and given the trauma that Will already knew about Nico, there was no logical way that Nico could be okay.

Most demigods presented with symptoms of PTSD, and he recognised the most similarities between Percy and Annabeth and Nico's symptoms and severity, most likely because to some degree they had the shared trauma of Tartarus. Some demigods with traumatic backgrounds had gone on to develop some form of psychotic disorder, or OCD or eating disorders, and there were a few traumagenic systems at camp who Will had gotten to know personally. So Nico having C-PTSD wasn't a surprise. Of course, Will needed a lot more time than a few days to accurately assess and diagnose Nico, but he was fairly confident that Nico was presenting with many symptoms of PTSD and likely had been long enough to officially meet the criteria for a PTSD diagnosis.

And then there was Nico's overall neurodivergence- of course, the ADHD and dyslexia were confirmed, but Will suspected that Nico could be on the spectrum, like Will was. Autism wasn't uncommon in demigods either, sharing many similarities to ADHD. They were practically brain cousins.

Will pulled himself out of his musings, focusing on how to talk to the trembling boy before him. His clothes looked wet, and Nico made as if to speak before looking sadly down, shrugging and offering a half smile greeting that Will had become familiar with during Nico's quieter days. Nico struggled anyways with communicating and expressing his emotions, and he was even worse at reading them- as a general rule, unless he knew you well, Nico didn't appear to pick up on body language cues indicating someone's distress unless they cried or explicitly stated how they felt. Yet, once Nico was clued in, and was able to rationalise the situation by drawing parallels and drawing from his own personal experiences, Nico tended to grasp a very nuanced and deep understanding of exactly how somebody was feeling, allowing him to better empathise- what was Will's point again?

Will let out a frustrated huff, wishing his brain to just do the focus thing on his patient. And then he realised he hadn't taken his meds in a few days and oh. That explained it. Will realised he definitely hadn't showered in like- at least a week, and he definitely needed a shower but his usual soaps were in his cabin and he couldn't be bothered to get them- but he could use that deodorant, the musk one with the cinnamon and citrus undertones in the black spray can or he could just use old spice but what about his strawberry shampoo would it go-

Will took a deep breath, looking back to Nico. Right. Doctor, patient, mental health- Will absolutely needed to suddenly start a full on a case study project- no, never mind, focus. Somehow. Please. Right. Okay. Breathe.

Will gave Nico a gentle smile, taking out his stim putty to squish in his hand to ground himself and focus better. Nico usually would have spoken by now, so Will figured that he must have gone non-verbal- and now Will's focus to do that case study project was gone forever, great, well done, you're a failure Will, oh great, now your mood's dropped, just great- Nico must have had a meltdown maybe, although that didn't explain the damp clothes.

"Hey Neeks," Will began gently, "do you want some fresh clothes?" Nico looked at him pleasingly, before curling in on himself with his knees bunched up and gripping his shirt as though it was a comfort to him. It took Will a moment to decipher, but he figured Nico wanted dry clothes but was reluctant to part with his clothes.

"I can get you some pyjamas," he said softly, quietly- he didn't want to overwhelm Nico if the guy had just had a meltdown, because sensory overload sucked. "You could put your clothes on the chair to dry." Nico seemed to consider that, before giving a slight frown and pout, but a slight smile. He was considering it, but still reluctant.

"The pyjamas are cotton," Will continued, "with the labels cut out, and the seam is sewn down so it isn't scratchy." Nico nodded jerkily, and Will smiled reassuringly, standing up slowly with a determined look in his eye. "I'll go get those for you, we don't want you catching hypothermia now, do we? You don't need pneumonia with the state of your lungs right now."

Will fetched the pyjamas and granted Nico the privacy to change whilst he quickly took his meds- which reminded him to set about figuring out a treatment plan for Nico going forwards- then returned to see the pyjamas fitted well and Nico looked comfortable, discreetly rubbing the soft fabric against his cheek, eyes closed. Will liked the smell of the fresh linen more than he liked the feel of them, but Nico appeared to be touch sensitive, perhaps explaining why he was so easily overwhelmed by touch. Will had a sense of smell like a sniffer dog, and hearing that left him unable to find silence or sleep without loud music blaring through his headphones.

"Does that feel any better," Will asked, and Nico nodded, turning pink and smiling slightly. "Is it okay if I ask you some questions and you can nod or shake your head? Nod if yes, shake your head if you need some time first, it's okay. Nico nodded gingerly, and Will gave a gentle smile.

He went through the standard questionnaires first, looking for markers of depression and anxiety levels, and finding, unsurprisingly, that Nico was at crisis point. Will briefly considered keeping Nico in the infirmary, but he didn't see Nico as particularly needing that kind of treatment. Nico would be better coping in comfort.

Nico gradually became verbal again, and finally Will was able to investigate deeper. Nico was slowly beginning to open up, and Will was more than happy to listen, perhaps a little intrigued.

"It feels like… I'm not here, like I don't exist. Like I'm just… observing, but I'm not… feeling. It feels like I'm in warm heavy water, and I'm stood outside, and inside is bright and colourful, but I don't have the energy to move my limbs and step inside. Sometimes I'm able to say hello but I can't move when I'm invited in, I can only stand there. And I want to, I want to go inside. But I can't, and instead of coming outside to me, people carry on the party, and I'm just… outside, creepy. To them, I'm a disembodied voice, and ghost in the dark. An apparition with a slightly off centre smile and an unsettling artificial expression. I'm in an alley and I beckon them and they freak and run. I'm like something from The Magnus Archives to them, like the Angler Fish episode. And I don't feel empty, I feel… heavy, but like I'm on cotton wool. Everything feels off, all of the time, too dark and too bright all together, like shining objects in low light. I want to scream for help, and I am screaming, but nothing comes out. And when I scream I scream loud and their eyes turn in and their ears fold back and their mouths seal shut and their hands become bound and they carry on as though everything is perfectly normal, like I never even existed in the first place. They turn a blind eye because I make them uncomfortable, not realising how uncomfortable they make me too. And it buries me in a warm coffin, scratching to be let out whenever somebody uses me."

Will didn't know how to respond to that. There was no sane way to respond to that. Partly because Will had a vivid imagination and now had a horrifyingly graphic mental image in his head that was guaranteed to give him nightmares tonight. But Will loved horror, so he ended up distracted thinking of Nico as a horror podcaster. Occasionally his voice took on a velvet husk with a slow manner of speaking that made his voice perfect for horror. The other times, it was horribly squeaky and breaking. Then Will remembered that he was procrastinating assessing Nico's mental health. "You should be a horror writer," Will said, to buy himself some time to process and respond.

"I wanna do scare acting or horror podcasts," Nico replied, "so people are supposed to find me creepy. It hurts when I'm not trying to be creepy and people find me creepy. But if I'm intentionally creepy, I can make it fun, and maybe, when I reveal the real me, it's such a far cry from my scaresona that they don't register me as creepy."

"Scaresona-" Will repeated, trying to fully process that like it was a cursed post on tumblr.

"Yeah," Nico replied casually, "maybe a zombie because I feel like one. I wouldn't be a ghost, because I'm already invisible."

"You're not invisible to me, Nico," Will cemented in ages firm but gentle tone. "You matter, I'm listening to you, and I believe everything that you are saying to be true. You're not faking or attention seeking- actually scrap that, the term should be support seeking- I believe that your struggles are valid and I would like to support you through this."

"Thanks, Will…" Nico began, mouth open as if to say something when the infirmary doors burst open. There was yelling, and Will's pager beeped not soon after, and he had to prioritise the medical emergency first.

"I'll try be back later, definitely in the morning, okay? Take care, death boy!" And with that, Will switched to clinical cold emergency combat medic. Didn't mean he was quite used to the bad smells, though. Nobody ever really was. He vaguely remembered the joke spray liquid ass was used by the military to train combat medics for the smell of the battlefield, and with one last thought to the ironic hilarity of that, Will was at the side of the patient and ready to save a life.

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