#Anyway ignore personal shit look at the bae

[bapydemonprincess]

Local (arguably) cute Professor and Housemaster of Blue House at Weston College somehow keeps getting away with normally heinous crimes...

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 9

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

All Falls Down (Prequel)

Series Masterlist

Special shoutout to @paigereeder without her this chapter would not have gotten done! 🫶🏽

Kiyana stared off in the direction that Elijah had walked off in, rubbing her arm in the spot that he had grabbed. “Oh naw, he ain’t getting away with this shit.” She muttered as she stormed towards Alexis’ room. She knew how it felt to have a cheated husband and she would never want another woman to feel the way she had. 

“Oh, Kiyana! Bae this is the girl I was telling you about.” Alexis smiled at Kiyana as she walked into the room. “Thank you for paging him. I don’t know what he has a phone for, he never answers it.” Alexis teased her husband, staring up at him with adoration and love in her eyes and Kiyana felt like she was gonna throw up right then and there. It made her sick to know that Elijah was nothing more than a cheating sociopath, just like Josh. 

“Well, I'm happy to help.” Kiyanna finally responded, having to tear her eyes away from the couple in front of her. Her eyes kept wandering down to his wedding ring and all she could think was ‘how could I be so stupid.’  This man was married with THREE kids that he failed to mention. How sick can one person actually be? 

Kiyana checked on Alexis and the baby, not looking in Eli’s direction, even though she felt his eyes on her. His cheating, deceiving eyes.  “Everything looks good right now. If you need anything, just hit that red button right there and someone will come to help.” Kiyana recited the lines from the employee handbook perfectly before turning and walking out of the room before Elijah or Alexis could say anything. 

She closed her eyes and leaned against the closed door, letting out a breath before walking over to the nurses station. “Girl, you still taking care of her?” When Kiyana nodded, Debra shook her head. “You better than me.”  

“I wanted to tell her so bad how much of a scumbag her husband is” Kiyana spat out. Eyes narrowing on the door to room 302. “But something in me just couldn’t. Maybe cause I’ve been in her position before.” Kiyana shrugs, looking down at her bare left hand and frowning. 

Your ex-husband cheated on you?” Debra asked, giving Kiyana a look of pity, which Kiyana ignored. 

“Yup, he um- he cheated on me while I was pregnant with our youngest.. With some chick he worked with.. Same exact situation, different roles.” Kiyana said as she made eye contact with Elijah who had just walked out of the hospital room. He walked past the nurses station, head held high as he ignored the glare Debra was sending his way. 

“If you wanna go home. It’s okay. I’ll cover for you.” Kiyana shook her head. 

“Nope. I am sick and tired of letting men ruin my day.” 

“Daddy can we go see mommy at work?” Josh stopped searching his mother’s refrigerator for something for his boys to eat and checked his watch. 11:54 am.  it was almost time for Kiyana to go to lunch anyway. 

“Yeah, we can do that. Go tell grandma we leaving.” He said sending Kaiden to do his dirty work. Talisua was beyond pissed at him, ever since he told her he crashed Kiyana’a date a couple of days ago. She had called him selfish and insensitive. He agreed with the selfish part, because he was, he wholeheartedly agreed with that. He wanted Kiyana to himself and he was going to do everything in his power to get his wife… ex-wife back. 

“You couldn’t come tell me you were leaving on your own?” Talisua asked as she walked into the kitchen holding Kairo and Josh sighed. 

“Ma’, I don’t wanna fight with you.” 

“I don’t wanna fight with you neither son. I just want you to understand how unfair you are being to Kiyana.” Josh sighed again and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not waiting to get smacked upside his head. “She deserves to move on.” 

“And I deserve a chance to fix my mess. To make everything right again.” Josh stressed, staring his mom down, he was tired of hearing that Kiyana needs to move on, because no the hell she doesn’t. “Pops cheated on you and had Melvania and you still stayed with him and had four kids. He deserved a second chance, so why don’t I?” For the first time in 38 years, Josh had stumped his mom. He knew bringing up his father’s cheating ways was mean and unnecessary, but he needed to get his point across. 

“Me and your father were not married though Joshua! He didn’t break a vow to me like how you did to Kiyana.” 

“That’s not fair ma’” Josh shot back. “Pops wanted to make things right and you let him, why are you giving me a hard time when I’m trying to do the same?” Talisua’s features softened as she walked closer to her son and grabbed his hand. 

“Son, it’s not the same. I know you wanna fix things with Kiyana. I would love it if y’all were back on the same page, but you hurt her. You hurt her during one of the toughest moments of her life because of your selfishness. Yes, your father has made mistakes but he allowed me to work through my pain on my own, he gave me space and that’s what you’re not giving Kiyana.” 

“Space? She already went on a damn date mom!” Josh responded, raising his voice. "I know I messed up, I admit that. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to fix things. Kiyana means everything to me."

“Joshua,” Talisua said softly, squeezing his hand gently, “I know how much she means to you but, She needs space okay? Just let her come back to you.” Josh shook head head 

“Nah, I can’t just sit back and watch while she dates other men. I can’t do that.” 

“Then, I can’t help you Josh. You’re own your own.” Talisua handed Kairo over before walking out of the kitchen. 

“We don’t need her,” Josh muttered to a smiling Kairo. “You’ll help me get mommy back right?”  Josh let out a sigh before calling out to Kaiden, “Kai, come on. Let’s go see mommy!”  

As Josh and his two boys were heading towards his truck, he let out a groan as he saw Joe leaning against it. 

“Uncle Joe!” Kaiden called out, letting go of his fathers hand and running towards Joe, who swooped down and picked him up.

“Man whatcho’ big ass  doin’ here?”  Josh asked, unlocking his car door and placing Kairo in his carseat. 

“I ain't come to argue with you.” Joe said softly. “Jon said you might be here and I just wanted to talk,”  Josh sucked his teeth and moved to the driver's side, starting the car and rolling the windows down. “Josh, I told you the other day I was sorry about how all that shit went down with Kiyana.” 

“Aye Uce,” Josh chuckled bitterly,  “You fucked my wife. Then called me so I could hear it!” Josh seethed, damn-near snatching Kaiden out of Joe’s arms. “You lucky you not six feet underground.”

Joe and Josh stood there staring at each other. Josh’s eyes were filled with hate and anger while Joes’ was filled with regret and sadness about how this whole situation went. He still believed in his heart that Kiyana deserves someone better than Josh, but he also knew that the love that they had for each other was genuine and real. Joe would be a hypocrite if he held Josh accountable for his cheated, it’s not like Joe hasn’t cheated on his girlfriends in the past. 

“Look I’m sorry alright? I don’t wanna fight with you no more Josh. I miss my favorite cousin.” Josh’s eyes softened at Joe’s confession. 

“Daddy, I thought we were going to see mommy?” Kaiden interrupted the two of them and Joe looked at Josh with hopeful eyes. 

“Y’all going to see Key? Can I come? I was going to see her before I left for Miami.” Josh started shaking his head, he opened his mouth to tell him no but Kaiden spoke again. 

“Hurry! Or we’re gonna miss mommy!” Kaiden yelled out growing inpatient. 

“Fine, Get in the damn car Uce.” Josh grunted out, lip curling in disgust as Joe opened his passenger side door and slid his big ass in. 

12:00 pm. 

Kiyana leaped from her chair and grabbed her bag immediately heading for the elevator. “Take as long as you want!" Debra called out and Kiyana gave a thumbs up in return just as the elevator doors closed. Since there was a ban on cell phones during work hours, she had to wait to tell Samara all about Elijah and his lying, cheating ass

She let out a curse as she looked down at her arm where Elijah had grabbed, a nasty bruise had formed. Just looking at the bruise had her blood boiling. ‘I should go back up there and tell his wife everything.’ She thought as the elevator doors opened up on the ground floor. 

Kiyana had pulled up Samara’s contact and was about to press call when a loud “MOMMY!”  echoed around the surprisingly quiet main entrance. An immediate smile was on Kiyana’s face as she recognized her son’s voice. 

“Kai!” Kiyana called out, kneeling down and capturing him in a tight hug that she needed at that moment.  

“Hi mommy, I miss you.” Kaiden muttered into the shirt of her scrubs and it took everything in Kiyana not to burst into tears right there as she placed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I miss you too Kai.” 

“Damn, I be gone weeks at a time and he’s never ran to me like that” Kiyana rolled her eyes with a chuckle before turning towards Josh and… Joe? Who was pushing Kairo in his stroller. Her eyes widened as she took in the two Samoans. 

“What the fuck?” She whispered. She tried to asked him what he was doing there, but all she could muster was another , “What the fuck?” 

As Kiyana stood to her full height, the bruise on her arm caught Josh's attention. “What’s that?” He asked, drawing Joe’s attention to the bruise as well.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I bumped into something earlier.” She muttered, looking anywhere but at Josh and that's when he knew she was lying. 

“Kiyana.” He narrowed his eyes on her. “That shit wasn’t there this morning.” 

“Josh, please.” She pleaded. “Y’all came here to eat, so let's go do that.” She said grabbing Kaiden’s hand and walking towards the cafeteria but Josh grabbed her other hand, stopping her. “Josh, stop” She whispered and he shook his head. 

“It was that nut ass dude you went out with wasn’t it?” 

“Aye, he put his hands on you KiKi?” Joe chimed in and Kiyana’s bottom lip quivered and that’s when Josh lost it. 

Josh's jaw was clenched tight as he asked her, “Where he at Kiyana? He thinks he can put his hands on you and get away with it?” 

Kiyana shook her head,  "Josh, please," she pleaded again, placing her hand on his chest, trying her hardest to calm him down, but he was pissed and past the point of calming down. “We got the kids here.” 

“And they need to see what happens when someone puts their hands on their mama. I don’t play that shit Key, divorced or not.” The elevator doors opened and Kiyana cursed as Josh’s eyes zeroed in on Elijah. “You put your fucking hands on my wife?” Josh called out and before Elijah could even comprehend what was going on, Josh walked up and threw a mean right hook, knocking Elijah down to the ground. 

The security guard, who had overhead what Elijah did, took his time getting up from his seat. He stretched and yawned before slowly making his way over to them. Kiyana took the stroller from Joe and pushed him in Josh’s direction, “Please do something!” She called out, covering Kaiden’s eyes so he wouldn’t see what his dad was doing. 

“Josh.. Josh come on man, you got him.” Joe said as he pulled Josh off of Elijah but not without getting his own kicks in. 

“Alright, that's enough” The security guard called out as he finally made his way over to them. 

“This shit ain’t over!” Josh called out to Elijah who was holding his jaw, glaring at him. “Imma catch ya’ bum ass again!” Josh pushed the guard away from him and grabbed Kiyana's hand, leading her out of the hospital. 

“And don’t put your hands on my mommy again!” 

Welp... Honestly.... i can't write a fight scene to save my life but imma work on it and trust, this aint the last time Josh gon get his hands on Elijah!

If then ending seems rushed, I apologize it is 3:35 am and I wanted to get this out b/c I won't have any time later on in the day to publish 🙃.

🏷️: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @empressdede @harmshake

@theninthwonder @alyyaanna @nbanenefrmdao @abadbitchblogs @raya-hunter01

@msbigredmachine @paigereeder @amandairene88 @woahthatshitfat @allmyn1ghts

@wrestlingprincess80 @reignsboy19 @cyberdejos2 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo

@scarlettnoir01 @alichesmi @xiamentshoneypot @hunnidmilly @jeyusos-girl

@li-da-savage @qveenmikaelson @black-yn @mzv11 @shantinextdoor

@sheydnni @zillasvilla @thatone-girly @xmonetsworld @jeysbae

@kill-the-artiste @simpin4pixels @mindairy @that-one-anxious-mango @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs

@vebner37 @trashbin-nie @adoreesun @meggylynnloves @shayaaaaaaa

@angiedawn02 @rianasixx @bookuce @sageispunk

[hipsterteller]

Poison

Summary-Aeryn has been avoiding Naoakira after what Miss Akane Minagawa said to her at music room and how it hurted how, so her friend, Letitia and BAE decided to the Inn but upon there...fate decided to make her heart twisted even further.

Tagged-Age gap/age difference, Naoakia patient is tested, Minagawa is dead whore, sets in episode 9, heated sex.

*Got this idea from listening to Poison by Blake Roman (Angel Dust) as well watching one of Scum's wish

Special guest-Letitia from @moonartemisia

Letitia invited Aeryn to join her and BAE on outgoing trip, a inn. Aeryn wanted to refuse it but decided to go anyway since she needs to get away from the city...and Naoakira.

You see, about a few weeks ago. Miss Akane Minagawa, professor of music decided to hurt Aeryn's emotions by getting Naoakira and even...seeing her attempt to kiss him.

This made her cry and call Letitia and Anne after hearing what happened...it anger Allen as he wanted to yell at her but Hajun pull him back as it will only cause more trouble.

So the only option is a trip to the inn while the BAE team will train for there finals. But for now, the young auburn hair sat alone in lounge as she needed this, alone in environment.

Allen is probably goofing off while Letitia and Hajun are doing some couple stuff...and Anne is probably busy with something...

She close her blue eyes as the memory from what happen still fresh in her head...

*Flashback at college music room*

Aeryn stood at the entrance of the music room when Miss Akane requested her to be there...but upon standing in the entrance...there..leaning against the window...is Naoakira...and Akanae.

The curtains blew covering them as it showed the silhouette of them...together...

Kissing.

It trigger both pain and bitter in her as she ran out holding back her tears as well her agony cry.

*End of flashback*

Aeryn open her eyes as she felt something in her cheek, it was cold drink and its been held by Anne.

"You look like you needed one..." She put the drink in Aeryn's hand as she sat down next to her as she pulled chair for her to seat.

Aeryn sit up straight as she held her drink "Thanks Anne...but you didn't have too..."

Anne shake her head and respond "You needed one, I mean after running all the way to apartment crying. I still can't believe from what I heard at your explanations...you know professor Saimon will never do that. Especially after the hickey incident he gave you."

Aeryn blush at that as Anne chuckle but still continue.

"But if your still sad about it, then its okay...but Aeryn...you can't ignore him forever you know..."

Aeryn frowned as she recalls that after that incident, she's been avoiding him a lot and somehow she could imagine his anger and impatient look in his eyes.

"I know...but...its best if I don't interact with him..."

Anne frowned more and sighed "Alright, welp I better check on Hajun and his girl. For now try and relax okay?"

Aeryn nodded and she is now yet again alone but at least she has a drink in her hand...

But what she doesn't know...

Is that fate has a way to tug her little heart.

At night.

Aeryn forgot that the Akanyatsura and Cozmez are here, she forgot due to her depression lately.

After having a nice dip in hot spring, Aeryn wanted nothing but to go to bed...until she heard Anne and Hajun are playing ping pong while Hetitia cheered on.

'Huh is Allen playing? I thought his still at hot spring...' Aeryn slowly approach the game room, but as soon she stood at the entrance...

Her heart is yet again twisted at the sight of someone she's trying to avoid...

The one person that made her heart goes fast...

The one person she love...that broke her heart into a million pieces.

Naoakira...is here...at the inn and playing ping pong table with Hajun and Anne and his partner up with Iori. Letitia saw this and knew shit hit the fans.

"A-Aeryn wait!"

Aeryn didn't respond as her mind began to recall the day she witness her heart shattered as if a static noise began to flicker her as she mentally recalls those painful moment and Miss Minagawa smile.

She broke a run for it, Aeryn didn't care on who she bump into the inn.

She needs to find a place to hide...somewhere he won't find her...somewhere she can cry again.

But before she did, she felt a strong grip grab her wrist as she yelp and is drag to secluded hallway were there she is pinned against the wall.

Her blue eyes met with golden eyes that she is very familiar...

Naoakira got her and now pinned against the wall.

"I've finally caught you..." his tone sounded that his patient has finally at its breaking point as Aeryn lips quiver afraid to speak but asked him.

"Why are you here?"

"I was gonna asked the same thing, but the real question is..."

He lean into her ear as his hot breathe made her shiver as he whispers.

"Why were you avoiding me lately little mouse?"

Aeryn close her eyes and looked away as she didn't deserve that nickname "Don't call me...little mouse..."

Naoakira is shocked but listen to her woes.

"I don't deserve to call little mouse I...I don't deserve to be with you..."

"Why? Was it because Miss Minagawa?"

Aeryn didn't respond as Naoakira let out a tsked, this made her flinch as she doesn't know if that tongue clicked was for her or for Miss Minagawa.

Before she could do anything, she felt his hands cupped both her cheek as she is force to look at him as she felt scared on what his about to say...

But she was not prepare on the revelations.

"You do realize that I don't have feelings for that woman...after all...you should have seen her when I slap her after that kiss attempt she did."

Aeryn is shocked as he wipes her tears.

"Letitia told me what happen, you should thanked your friend...for now...I have to take care of you..."

*Flashback, this afternoon*

While booking in the inn, Hajun and Letitia and Anne spotted the Cat's Whiskers and upon doing so, Letitia decided to approach the linguistic professor.

"Professor, can we talk? Its important." Letitia pleaded him as Naoakira knows Letitia well as she is good friends with Aeryn.

"If its about Aeryn's odd behavior...then please do..."

They head to a near by indoor lounge were there Letitia filled in the details and explainations.

"When she saw you and Miss Minagawa, she got her heartbroken and thought you left her for someone else and we tried to tell her that you don't do that.

Naoakira bit his inner bottom lip as it confirm his theory, that bitch made his little mouse cry...

And his not going to let this slide...not by a long shot.

*End of flashback*

"Oh my little mouse...I should have known that woman would hurt your feelings..."

Aeryn began to hiccup but slowly cry on his chest as she begs him for forgiveness, Naoakira hush her as he kiss her temples.

"I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!"

"Sshh...its okay my little mouse, I forgive you...and I love you..."

He kiss her cheek and nose til he kiss her lips, God he needed and misses that taste of her lips. The two stayed like that til his hand roam at her kimono as he wants to pull down.

But Aeryn pulled away as she doesn't want to get caught, Naoakira took a breather and smirk.

"Let's go to my room little mouse..."

((Listen to this-

And just like that she nodded as he softly held her hand and took her to his room, upon entering he lock the door and the two began to have a heated intimacy.

Aeryn moan at his kiss as well his holding her til she is pinned down at futon as her kimono is loosen revealing her freckle body, her legs is spread open as it shows that she didn't wore anything underneath.

Naoakira goes on top of her, stripping her kimono down as Aeryn held onto the futon as he began to bite her, kisses her and lick the fresh hickeys and skin of her as she let out a moan and pant as his going hard on her and she enjoys this.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, his cologne drove her to the edge as she too began to leave hickeys and licks it. This made Naoakira moan and growled.

"Aaah...that's it little mouse, mark me...make that bitch know that I'm yours...and your mine."

Aeryn moan as she felt her leg lifted as he began to bite her sensitive parts as she moans loudly and felt her sweat began to form as not only he bit her thigh but began to eat her pussy as she moans.

She held his head as he began to make her cum as he did, Naoakira put his glasses down and lift her from futon as his hand held her.

Then began to thrust her pushing his cock inside of her making her scream and moan, then began to thrust her fast and hard.

the friction...the pleasure becomes unbearable but it felt so good for her as she held him as her legs wrapped around his waist as their kimono is took off from the floor.

It didn't took long as Aeryn claw his back as she cums and he too biting her shoulder as he cums. Naoakira lay down on futon as he let her rest on top of her as Aeryn held him.

The experience was enough for them to fall asleep in their arms as Naoakira held her and kiss her temples.

"I love you my little mouse..."

The next day, about week (after episode 11 and 12), college cafeteria

"Guys have you heard? Miss Minagawa is move to to an all girls university!"

Aeryn is shock at Letitia news as Hajun asked her.

"How did this happen?"

"Don't know but someone said its because her behavior had cause a lot of girls in here to be furious..."

Aeryn began to wonder as she tug her oversize turtleneck sweater that's covering the hickeys she got from her lover.

[acaiasahi]

so very sorry for the late answer! I'm terrible at being active 😞

I WAS ROOTING FOR HIKARU AND HAYATE SO HARD!! I refuse to look at &team bc ofc they deserve it! but...ouchie I got too emotionally attached

Thats what I'm saying like- kpop stans are always talking abt how they're tired of how predictable n boring the kpop industry has become, but when an actual new n interesting group comes along it's crickets. keep up the same energy! czennies rlly be starting fights for no reason..chile this fandom needs to stop pretending to be nct's guardian angel bc they're really not! sit down n take a break

piwon lightstick looks so pretty omg I hope u got it in time! FR THO THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING OPPORTUNITY ur really abt to see the main slayers live?? in person?? WHAT A FLEX

— 🐞

GAKU AND HIKARU WERE MY BOYSSSS i was so pissed honestly... it fucking sucks bc they were all such a good team tgt and they could've all debuted but haters only know how to hate... and stink!!!! &team's very talented and i can't wait to see what's in store for them but i'm glad they're being treated like a kpop group bc more exposure yasss (idk if talked abt this yet so if i did, ignore me bae)

but yasss, ppl scream n shout n have tantrums over groups not being "unique" enough but when nmixx swooped in n gave us a wacky song (whAT IS THE MELODDYYYYYY... yk that one tiktok sound LOL) anyways, they were so quick to shit on it. same w lessera's original antifragile choreo, it was sooo hardcore but they changed it n ppl are like "glad they changed it bc they look goofy" BUT THEY'RE THE SAME PPL WHO PREACH THAT THEY WANT HARDER GG CHOREO OR UNIQUE CHOREO LIKE WHAT???? idk man, kpop is so toxic atp, i hate it so much. that's why i js sit n write for my silly lil guys n mind my own, or at least attempt to. i miss 2015-16 kpop :( ah the goofy ol days

but my lightstick did come in on time!!! literally got it two days later after ordering. the box came in damaged but ngl, i usually js keep those in my closet and display the lightstick itself lolz so not rly a loss :P i saw so many clips of jiung singing michael jackson's "love never felt so good", and theo singing a dean song n if they don't do that.... when... i... see....... them.......... I WILL RIOT!!!!! anyways, nice talking to u ladybug anon, missed u n dw abt not answering!!! life is life-ing <3

[medusa12346]

Pick a Priyanka Chopra-Future spouse first impressions letter (short)

Your future spouse on how they thought of you at first! (Letter)

Pile 1-

“LOOK I’ll admit it I did think you were a motherly/fatherly figure for me. I had just recently gone through a breakup and I was so wrapped up in that shit that I didn’t even notice how you clearly displayed that you liked me. I Ignored you when I shouldn’t have, good lord, I was so stupid. You were just a pillar, a goddess for me. I am not gonna lie to you, I felt a little insecure when I saw you, I was so tiny in front of your bold and fiery nature, and here I was. Shy, shy me.But now I realize that my feelings went way deeper than that. I thought the passion I felt around you was because of finding a connection so beautiful, but it was actually my passion for you as a person. In the romantic type of way. You make me feel giddy baby, with your words, your personality, and your soul. Your eyes, they hold so much light in them. Your mouth protrudes such beautiful words and you are just perfect in my eyes. I love you to death and I wouldn’t leave you, ever.

(this is reminding me of someone hehe 😌)

Pile 2-

"This love will be the death of me, but I know, I’ll die happily.”-Selena Gomez, Come and get it.

Okay, smartie pants, you keep ignoring me, I’m fine. at first, I know you’re in a stagnant phase but stop. Stop, you know I exist, even if we’re not friends, you know I exist. Well, anyway, I know you’re checking me out bae, NO NO WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING I KNOW YOU ARE.

I loved how passionate you were, your childlike wonder, and your twinkling eyes. You looked so..innocent. WELL WASN’T I WRONG BECAUSE BABE-😳

You are such a badass, eh? I love your confidence and charm when you speak to people. How you don’t back down from a challenge. It’s adorable to see how stubborn you are. Okay yes, I know you are shy and how it took you AGES to become an ‘extrovert’ but babey I like you anywhere, anytime, and any way, shape, or form.

Pile 3-

I know this is fated. You know this is fated. I love it.

I know we’re gonna grow old together and have kids. I know we’re gonna start gardening and owning pets. Because why not?

Ok, I am not gonna lie I was obsessed with you and stalking you at one point. Don’t kill me, please

I was just very possessive of you even though we weren’t dating. I tried to fight my attraction but did it work 🤡

I love how showy and dramatic you are, I love your artistic side, your earthy side, your dreamy one. YOU’RE EVERYTHING. Youre mine, I’m yours.

[infictionalwonderland]

Marvel characters with s/o who has gen z humour !

warnings : swearing, jokes about serious matters, concerned avengers LMAO, fem reader in mind

characters included : tony, nat, thor, steve, wanda, pietro, vision, bucky

tony stank stark —

cue bug eyed expression

tbh he will probably make similar jokes but coming out of your mouth, the person he cares most about

he almost has a— i was gonna say heart attack but he ain’t got one 😟 you get the gist

when you reassure him it was a joke he just barely calms down

clings to your side for a bit after said concerning joke

if asked he won’t admit that he was scared shitless

eventually gets used to it tho

and even agrees sometimes

people are so concerned for the both of you they just watch your interactions like 😮

‘these hoes fr?’

he doesn’t really find your especially concerning jokes amusing per say but he won’t almost faint with worry for you

moral of the story is give the poor man a warning

so he doesn’t almost channel his endgame self bc of you.

natasha romanoff —

SHES FR SO CONCERNED THE FIRST TIME

she’s like : 😶😮😦

“don’t say that.”

cue concerned pouting

and you’re like issa joke bby

but she ain’t convinced

from that day forth she officially declared PDA her thing and was all for it, just to show you how much she loves you

she’ll grow used to it

apologies to other concerned and bewildered people on your behalf

a lot of tired sighs

some hidden laughter

but she’s mostly concerned 😭

don’t get me wrong, bae has a great sense of humour but the gen z level humour is a whole other level

won’t really join in on the joking, she’s gotten used to ignoring it at this point

it’s normal for her after a while so she forgets that others are concerned

but hey? your sense ‘a humour is a part of you so she loves it... kinda.

thor odinson —

NO PLS HE’S SO CUTE

imagine the most horrified, appalled, shocked facial expression

that’s his reaction

exactly that.

“lady y/n why would you ever say such a thing?”

you have to sit him down and explain that it’s just how you speak, you don’t mean it.

... most the time anyway 😁

he’ll tilt his head confusedly

“why would talk of your demise be humorous to any sane creature?”

bitch i can’t he’s so cute

AND SO CONCERNED

he’s like a concerned mom 😭

while always frown at the comments

so you lay off on them as much as you can, not liking the unhappy expressions he makes

the rest of the team find his reactions absolutely adorable tho they won’t say that

but also annoying cuz in the middle of full on blood guts and gory fights he’ll come over and hug you and check you ain’t feeling like throwing yourself in front of one of whatever it is you’re fighting

it’s cute but like-

miss ma’am we’re in the midst of a battle

anyway he’s the sweetest<3

steve rogers —

my guy would be FLABBERGASTED

and really sad :(((

he sketched out your whole lives together you couldn’t just leave him now

“what’s wrong? are you okay? did i do something- i’m so sorry if i did-“

and you’re like “no, no, sweetheart it was a joke.”

but he just frowns

“well it wasn’t a funny one.”

rude 🙄

we could say the same about your bland white boy 40s humour but we don’t do we

anyway-

this humour and him don’t really mix well LMAO

but, for you, he’ll try and come to terms with it bc he would never want to change anything about you

and everyone around you is wondering how this relationship dynamic works

bc for shit half as worse as the stuff you say, steve reprimands other people

but with you

it’s just like a free pass

and everyone else’s like 👁👄👁

‘eXSQUEEZE ME’

and you’re just like 😁👍

you’ve got the man whipped so he don’t do or say shit

not in public at least

wanda maximoff —

my baby is the cutest of them all :(

i love her so much

the first time you make the joke she knows you don’t mean it bc she can literally be your mind

but she still gives you a slightly frown-y look like ‘stop please’

and idk bout youse lot but i’d melt at that look

you smile at her in reply

and she gently grabs your hand and kisses your palm affectionately

OROWJFNBEWIWJG

sorry that was me malfunctioning

:) moving on

i feel like she might even laugh at some of your jokes because she knows you don’t mean them in a serious way

and she gets more clarity from seeing in your mind that it’s literally just how you joke

you & pietro would be besties

and wanda would be the tired but slightly amused mom

she gives you warning looks when you say things death related in public and she can FEEL the shock from other people

hand squeezes in warning

thigh squeezes, too

😩😩😩😩😩

basically wanda is just my favourite. :)

pietro maximoff —

i feel like he would have the same ish sense of humour

he’d laugh at every single one of your jokes.. just cuz he’s a simp

and he’ll join in with the same energy

the two of you are in your own little bubble of gen z humour

and everyone not in said bubble is so concerned 😭

“hey piet what do you think about speeding the both of us off this cliff and ending my suffering?”

“only if as my dying wish i get a cheek kiss, princesa.”

“done deal.”

everyone is is like ‘uhhh guys..’

steve’s sneakily pulling out his written and rehearsed speech about mental health awareness

straight up cackles are always heard from the two of you when you’re around each other

cuz you just get each other’s humour

oh, and you’re around each other all the time

so the non stop laughing drives the team absolutely up the wall

vision —

please my mans would give you the number of a suicide hotline

and you’re laughing like —“it was a joke vision.”

his poor android self don’t understand

and probably will proceed not to understand 😭

you have to thoroughly explain your humour to him for him to like 🤔😯🙂 ‘i understand now’

still tempted to give you the suicide hotline number ngl

it would be okay-ish if the jokes were once in a whole bit it’s like multiple times per day

can you hear his electric brain frying ?

you confuse him a lot

like a lot a lot

but he knows he loves you

and will continue to do so

despite your confusing sense of humour

:)

bucky barnes —

JAMES the love of my life

the last he remembers of society, it was still a majorly sexist time and the girls he knew certainly did not act like the girls now

especially the humour

so this fine ass man is SHOOK

bae fully freezes and is like - 😲

he just looks at you in stunned silence

and you’re like 🤨”what?”

“you- yo- are you okay?”

and you realise what’s the matter and it’s hard not cackle but you plaster a smile on your face and push down the laughter

“yeah, yeah i’m fine, that was a joke.”

“that’s how people joke now?”

you just explain to him it’s your sense of humour and his still in disbelief

will call steve later on that day on the device he doesn’t understand and inform him

the sexc grandpa duo share their shock

never gets used to the jokes

he doesn’t comment tho

he just shakes his head with a small smile

because even tho he doesn’t understand your humour or why you even find what you do funny, he genuinely thinks you’re perfect the way you are

plus if he understood everything about you and you were just normal it would be boring, he’ll admit.

[satoruyes]

caught blue handed (blue balls reference there)

steve harrington x gn!reader (one shot/drabble?? idk the difference) 580 words

warnings// unfaithful!reader, so angst?? , smut!! voyeurism??

prompt: your boyfriend calling you while they're balls deep, you not stopping when the phone rings, forcing you to answer and speak as if you arent clenching around them | credit: @meduim-rare-bimbo

m.list | navi

“fuck baby, right there,” steve says, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his length. As obedient as you are you follow his orders and continue riding him at a steady pace. He starts to encourage you to be louder, the two of you were home alone anyways. His parents out doing whatever, “cmon let me hear you baby, no ones here anyways,” he says, engaging you in a sloppy mid sex kiss. You can only moan in response. The pleasure overriding your senses.

Your phone vibrates and youre too caught in the moment so you ignore it and hope it wasn’t your mother. It vibrates once more and then you hear your ringtone go off. You and steve stare down at the phone trying to get a glance at the caller ID so you start to slow down. You look to go see who it was calling you this late— it’s Jonathan; your boyfriend. the same boyfriend youre cheating on right now. Whoops. You froze and looked at steve, he didn’t even look the least bothered, if anything he had a smug grin. You figured this was a whole ego thing since he seemed to be still salty about Jonathan taking Nancy from him although you hoped this wasn’t just a way for him to get back at jonathan. “answer it,” he says grinning, you pause and started at him to see if he’s serious “now.”

So you oblige, hopping off of steve, well atleast trying to before he grabs you tighter by your waist and flips you over on your back. Putting his dick back inside of you as he reached for your phone on the bed side table. “what has gotten into you harrington,” you say laughing a little bit. He only chuckles back and answers the phone for you.

“hello?” you hear on the other side of the line “ba-babe wuh-whatsup?” you ask. “oh um well i haven’t heard from you and i called your mom and she said you weren’t home,” he says. “oh- uh fuck- i’m sorry Jonathan it must have slipped my -uh mind,” you reply trying to keep composure as steve mercilessly thrusted into your warm insides. “it’s fine babe.. where are you though?” he asks and by the way he asks you swear he already knows.

Guilt was starting to get to you and you knew jonathan was a sweet boy and you honestly didn’t deserve him Nancy kind of broke his heart and now you were going to as well. Maybe you should’ve broke it off when you left california. “hello?” he says again. “oh um- im with robin and steve, we’re- fuck i mean watching a movie,” you stutter out. Steve had sped up at a brutal pace if that was even possible. “oh you’re with steve?” he asks and you can almost sense the jealousy laced in his tone. “ye-yeah well i’m in the bathroom right nn-now though” you reply, jonathan hums in acknowledgment. “well me and argyle are about to go to his place so i’ll call you later, i love you y/n” *silence* “i love you too”

“what the fuck steve.” you say laughing, but feeling slightly guilty about what happened but still on cloud 9 from cumming so hard. “what? you liked it right? must’ve liked it enough to cum on me so fucking hard” he says back. something about making a person cum while theyre on the phone with their boyfriend boosts’ the ego. “whatever you little shit, one time thing” you say back. “sure. sure it is”

i usual write for anime characters but these prompts are too good although i could use some for anime characters (which i will in the future) figured why not write for “stranger things” also i love steve and jonathan that’s why i added the guilt part cause i love him sm i’d never cheat on you bae 😜

© ymylu (2022) reblogs are appreciated! ☆

[sevlgi]

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a  shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship. 

a/n: while i was writing this, i  imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao... 

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is.  Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?” 

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung. 

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek. 

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head. 

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,”  you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown. 

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips. 

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins. 

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist. 

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

[drabbles-mc]

Wake-Up Call

Angel Reyes x F!Reader (Platonic)

Request by Anon: I would love to see #9 (My alarm is loud enough so you can hear it through the wall, so when I don’t want to get up, you come over to turn it off and drag me out of bed) of the roommate prompt with Angel! 🤣 (Prompt is from This List btw)

Warnings: language, Angel being a grumpy baby

Word Count: 859

A/N: Angel is 100% not a morning person and I totally respect that about him.

Angel Reyes Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @helli4nthus​ @angelreyesgirl​ @starrynite7114​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​ @withmyteeth​ @encounterthepast​ @lilacyennefer​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @luckyharley1903​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​

There were a lot of great things about being roommates with Angel. The two of you had a lot in common—same taste in TV shows and video games. You meshed pretty well together. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask him but you knew better than to do that, and in return he worked very hard to never let trouble land at your shared doorstep.

You loved spending time with him. Because of the life that he lived, he wasn’t always able to hang out with you, but when he was able to it was always fun. The two of you took care of each other the best ways that you knew how. Angel couldn’t cook to save his life, so you always made extra and packaged it up for him to either have for lunch the next day, or a late dinner whenever he would get home. He took care of your car because you never followed through on basic maintenance. The number of times he’d yelled at you because, “They literally give you a sticker to let you know when you need to get your next oil change!” was too high for you to count. But he always helped.

He was as funny as he was beautiful. One of the perks of being roommates was the comfort level that you two had with each other. Neither of you ever made things weird or tried to cross a line, which meant that you got to gawk at him when he walked around without a shirt on, and you pretended not to notice him staring when you walked through the apartment in your sports bra and running shorts. Everyone was a winner.

Angel never really got on your case about much. You were a neat and tidy person—you kept the apartment in order even when he was gone for days at a time. He didn’t have much that he was able to complain about.

Except at 5:45AM every morning from Monday to Friday when your alarm would go off.

He didn’t even know why you bothered to set the alarm, because it never woke you up. At first he figured that you would at least wake up to snooze it or shut it off and then go right back to sleep, but that didn’t even happen. You just slept through it. Every day. And the walls of your apartment were nowhere near thick enough to save Angel from having to listen to it.

It was another morning of more of the same. Only this time it was waking Angel up after he had hardly fallen asleep. It had been a late one with the club and he was looking forward to spending at least the first entire half of the day passed out in his bed. But you and your alarm had other plans.

“That’s it,” he threw your bedroom door open, “I’m throwing your phone out the fucking window.”

The slamming of the door and his yelling jostled you awake in a way that your alarm never did. You sat straight up, “What? What the fuck are you doing?”

He aggressively turned off the incessant alarm on your phone, “Why do you even set that shit, Y/N? It never fuckin’ wakes you up.”

“It does to!”

“Does not,” he shook his head, “I’m stuck listening to it every morning because you’re dead to the world.”

“It doesn’t not happen every morning,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic.”

“Nah, this is dramatic,” he tore the blankets off of you and lifted you out of your bed, ignoring your screams and protests.

“Put me down!”

“It’s time for you to wake up anyway,” he walked out to the living room, “So we’re gettin’ your ass outta bed,” he made his way to the kitchen and set you down on the floor with a surprising amount of care, “Make your coffee and get the fuck out of the apartment.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Why’re you so grumpy?”

“Because you never let me get any sleep.”

“Technically it’s my alarm that never lets you get any sleep,” you chuckled.

He tried and failed to keep a serious expression, a smile breaking out across his face as he shook his head at you, “Get ready for work.”

“You gonna be in a better mood when I get home?”

“Yea ‘cause I won’t be stuck listening to your fuckin’ alarm all day.”

You laughed, pushing him back towards his room, “Alright, stop distracting me. I’m trying to get ready.”

He shook his head and you could tell that there were comments that he wanted to make but he didn’t have the energy. You were sure that he would give you more grief about it when you got home and he had gotten some rest. But as it was, he just sighed and started to make his way back to his room to try and get to sleep while you got ready for work.

“Love you, Angel!” you called after him with a laugh.

“You fuckin’ better,” he called back before shutting the door to his room.

[yourdaddychan]

wow-

literally just wow- i genuinely have nothing to say about this please- i cannot explain how much this means to me- there's 1000 of us- *hugs all of you* [ especially the porn bots ] *turns into formal luna asf*

i remember when i started in may, just a tiny chatbot with only one mutual, only known to you guys as [ answer : admin ]. and now, almost a year later, i have 1k of my chainsaw eating demons who are metal as fuck 💪ive learned so much being on tumblr, as a part of both the skz writers community and the chatbot community. ive made a bunch of friends, lost a bunch of ones, and 1k of you stuck with me. i cannot begin to express my gratitude to all of you, and how much all of you and your interactions with me mean to me. all of the simping, the random stories, everything. i cherish all of it, and i love all of you. aight so letz get to the personal thanking asf

alsoer i kinda wanted to do something sexy so imma do what color they remind me of :D most of them can be found at this link : https://louisem.com/29880/color-thesaurus-infographic

@kvinly linn bb 🥺through all the drama we've been through and shit im so glad we ended up becoming friends again cause we're kinda sexy together 😉thank you so much for being my 1000th follower bb you mean so much to me and if anyone hurts you im about to *turns into jennie and kachows them* licherally lets nevah fight again

-> you remind me of the color punch , and not only because of the name- underneath that grr me edgy grr me bully you're just a softie simp and that reminds me of punch :D

@undeadbots steph 🥺lemme be your personal broken chopsticks pls :( KLDSKLD anywayz we've also gone through some sexy drama and thankfully you saw da light 😉and now look at us, with our own band, and our own producing line 🥺brohemian rhapsody for life bro 🥺 *big kithie for da best dad in da world :D*

-> you remind me of the color viridian , because it gives me confident vibes :D you carry yourself proudly and confidently as you should tbh go steph

@binniesthighs oh look its a cutie *pushes you to a mirror* right there :D RORORO YOUR BOAT :DD we havent talked too much, besides my simping for jisung- but you give me very sexy energy so imma propose rq *gets down on one knee* will you be the rororo to my boat 🥺thank you for being my moot :D

-> you remind me of the color espresso , because espresso looks like the color to be pretty chill and laid back, and you're all of those, and calming to be around

@toshis-flower BAYBEE BEBE BEEBEE :D thank you so much for being my moot and making me a wifey asf ‼️ you're literally so much like me whats not to love <3 JKSDJKD JKJK you're really sweet and really just a good person to rant to, i love you so so so much and i think im going to remarry you :D

-> you remind me of the color taffy , because you're sweet, cute, and bright :D *eats you* yummy

@lov3ric seyoung. i love you. so much. MY SOULMATEEEE :DD even though we tell the story over and over like a bunch of grandmas, ill still never forget how we became soulmates and then bonded over boba 🥺im licherally going to marry you one day like ez 💪also i wanna eat you can i eat you youre really cute *eats you*

-> you remind me of the color daffodil , because it reminds me of banana milk which reminds me of you tbh- buuuttt did you know that daffodils are one of the first flowers you see when spring starts? that definitely reminds me of you because through all of the cb drama, you've always been there with me, like literally always- i cannot express how much i love you *kithie*

@simpchimp LIDDLE CHEESE FUCKER THEMBO :DD drink water *spank* i love you so much you cutie 🥺you're also licherally the funniest person ever like stop bae i kinda need to be the funniest but noer its you 😔alsoer i love how random you are KDSKLD so nevah stop that because then *revz up arm* youre going to get luna-ified

-> you remind me of the color jam , because even though you seem kinda scary at first [ yes i was 100% scared of you ] you're really soft :D

@berrywoo the sun themself 💪you are easily the purest person ive met, and im so happy i somehow became moots with you :D you literally hit diff, yk? theres something about your personality and the way you act thats so comforting, and that means i eat you because youre too cute :D you cant just be a wholeass teacher for kids and expect not to get eaten kids are licherally demons whoever deals with them properly and treatz dem nicely gets a nom asf

-> you remind me of the color honey , because you're a sunshiney yellow, and you're sweet like honey :D i think you need to hear that its okay not to be okay bb, and you can come to my dms anytime you want to rant 😎

@yourchungha MS OG CHUNGHA MS IM KINDA SCARED OF THE SHIT YOU DO MS FURREH LOVER 101 MS ANNA BANANA :D yeah youre like really nice- thats all i have to say- like how tf do you deal with [ redacted ] like eggsplain- ALSO YOURE CARRYING OUR CONVERSATIONS BECAUSE IDK HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE DKSJKD I LOVE YOU FOR THAT AND WE SHOULD HAVE LIKE ACTUAL CONVERSATIONS MORE OFTEN

-> you remind me of the color scarlet , because youre a sexy bitch tf and scarlet gives me 'idc what you think im hot' kinda vibes which is like exactly you

@satosimp WINTER DADDY :DD i lub you asf *insert we dont talk anymore by charlie daddy* ugh the way your personality matches mine is kinda sexy or whatever im also kinda in love with you but lets ignore that part 🙄 💪 *big kithes* *eats your cats casually*

-> you remind me of the color lilac , because it just gives me tsundere vibes, you act like you dont care but really do care :D you liddle sawftie *noms your cheekie*

@nightshade-minho DUCKIE :DD *insert we dont talk anymore by charlie daddy pt 2* licherally bae where the fuck are you i miss you you bettah be doing well in school otherwise im going to smack you with a chappal asf DSJJKSD *eats your cat because hes such a cutie*

-> you remind me of the color marigold , because you're adorable and sunshiney :D

@onigirimeeya MICHIE MICHIE MICHIEIEEIEI MY DAD :DDD i like you mucho much if you didnt know *kithes you* you're like one awf da best listeners ever- which is such a weirdass compliment but its true- you're really good at listening, and just being a comforting presence in general, like when you go to the beach and youre just staring at the waves all edgy mode, and it calms you down a fuck ton

-> you remind me of the color mint , for obvious reasons- mint choco chip cookie michie :DD

@hhjs bae we dont talk a lot but im kinda lurking on all of your posts- JKDSJSKD bae remarry me please youre really fucking hot 😭and the way you have with words is like damn- teach me oppar asf

-> you remind me of the color wine , because you're refined, and carry yourself in a way that makes everyone want to be you. the color wine is rich and deep, which reminds me of the way you write :D

@nsfw-stay MY LICHERAL BABIE YOUVE BEEN AN ANON FOR SUCH A LONG TIME AND WEVE TALKED ABOUT SO MUCH SHIT TOGETHER [ a lot about seungmin and jisung but shhh ] I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BB AND I WILL NOM YOU >:( BUT SOFTLY AND OUT OF LOVE *nomz yew* :D

-> you remind me of the color cerulean , because its a baby blue and what fits better than a baby blue yk? you're adorable and squishy and i want to nom you 24/7

@secretary-yeji *iz chan ig cause we dont talk admin to admin* oh erm gee is uncle chrith 😉DKLSKLD my liddle koala :D my liddle burgah :D my liddle aussie :D my besth frien :DDD evah since may i think we've been friends, and i think one of the highlights of that day was me marking you as spam twice and on accident too- LKSDKLSD WE DONT TALK ABOUT THAT anywayz thank yew for being uncle chrith's friend *kith*

-> you remind me of the color seafoam , because it's a very soft and light color yk, you're delicate asf which sounds like a bad thing now that im typing it BUT IT ISNT DSKLDSLK YOURE VERY CUTE YOU AND YOUR FLOOFY COWS :D

@ayolistenupp im kinda... in love with you? wtf? KDSDKSL MY DESI DADDY ASF I LOVE YOU SOER MUCH :D our music nights™️ mean so much to me, like theres just something so personal about listening to what the other person likes to hear even though half of your songs are sexy asf KLDSKLD

-> you remind me of the color ocean , because the ocean is loud but calming yk- like you're full of energy but you're also calming :D

@yanderexchungha OH ERM GEE YEW :O YOU PROBABLY WONT SEE THIS IN LIKE 10 MONTHS BESTIE MERRY CHRISTMAS IG KLDSLKD anyway i love you dad your lessons about vape >>> to quote your drunk ass exactly "vape isnt cool" JKSDJ anyway its gonna be sexy if we accidentally run into each other in the hallwayz asf

-> you remind me of grey cause youre a hag- JKJK KDJSD you remind me of the color caramel , because you're sweet, and licherally addictive caramel isnt good for my braces but i keep eating it 😰but youre addictive in a good way :D

@yanderelee literally only doing this because you were moping about not having a simp sunday and im such a good person 🥸you're cool 💪and unfortunately, you're funny too 😥and even though i bully you asf dont take it personally because i dont mean it asf

-> you remind me of the color dijon mustard because you just give those hacker vibes please dont hack me after i said this i like to keep my location private

@kpopswitchbot BESTIE 😏MY FIRST MUTUAL 😏 LICHERALLY DA BEST CUTEST FUNNIEST SMARTEST SEXIEST KEWLEST I CANT EVEN EXPRESS WITH WORDS FISHIE IN DA WORLD :D LICHERALLY STOP OUTDOING ME WITH YOUR GOODNIGHTS LIKE *spankz yew* YOURE LITERALLY TOO GOOD WITH WORDS ITS NOT FAIR- AND THE DAY YOU JUST TALKED TO ME IN SHAKESPEAREAN BECAUSE I FELT DOWN- AND EXPRESSED YOUR LOVE THAT WAY LIKE- PLEASE I ACTUALLY ADORE YOU AND I WILL LITERALLY EAT YOU ONE DAY

-> you remind me of the color coffee , not only because youre addicted to it but also because of the way you act, you're like the definition of an old soul- with the words you use, the drama kid you are asf, etc- you're a talented bitch *mwah* i love you so much you also remind me of those movies where they find an old ass book and they kinda hafta dust it off and it gives you treasure or something cause yeah that reminds me meeting you

AIGHT DAS IT ASF MWAH I LOVE YOU ALL :DDD

[et-lesailes]

title: break point

pairing: ransom drysdale x personalized reader

word count: 3050

summary: when your ex boyfriend’s mom comes to you in need of help for his horrible behavior and attitude during his house arrest, you give in and see what you can do. things definitely do not turn out as planned.

themes: angst, smut

taglist: @evanstush​​, @tanyam93​​, @bval-1​​, @wonderwinchester​​, @patzammit​​, @rohaintahquil​​, @deidrashouseofpain​​, @sammyslonglostshoe​​, @jadedhillon​​, @bohemian-barbie​​, @whysparker​​, @sebastian-i-stan​​, @sebabestianstan101​​, @lille-kattunge​​, @teller258316​​, @peach-acid​​, @allsortsofinterests​​, @xoxabs88xox​​, @heyiamthatbitch​​, @cptn-sgrogers​​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​​, @bangtan-serendipity​​, @troublermalik​​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​​, @bookish-shristi​​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​​,  @gingerninjaprincess16​​, @straightforwardly​​,  @denisemarieangelina​​,  @frencchfries​​, @xlanawriter​​, @littlemoistcarrot​​, @pottxrwolff​​, @arianatheangelworld​​, @ifuseekamyevans​​, @southerngracela​​, @nsfwsebbie​​, @rororo06​​, @savemesteeb​​, @raveviolet​​,​​ @hurricanerinwrites​​, @captainamerica-is-bae​​, @shaddixlife​​, @tessa-bl​​, @marvelouspottering​​, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc​​, @thegetawaywriter​​, @dwights-new-plague​​​, @rynabarnesrogers​​​, @fckdeusername​​​,  @doloreschanal​, @ssworldofsw​

notes: thank you so much @capsicleimpala​ for requesting this, i absolutely loved writing it and it was such a creative idea! i really hope you love it :) also, in this story, fran survived lol. i don’t think ransom would be able to only have house arrest for being a direct murderer, even with a rich lawyer hehe *** for anyone interested in commissioning me, please check out this post !

When you hear the television inside as you’re in the process of inserting your key into the lock of your upscale apartment door, you freeze. Last time you checked, you didn’t have a roommate, and you definitely didn’t have a significant other hanging out in there. Your heart starts racing. Should you call the police? Ever since making it big in tennis, competing in all sorts of national and international tournaments, you’ve had a lot of crazy fans vying for your attention. Some do it in sweet ways, and others… not so sweet. However, no one’s actually ever showed up at your home. 

You take a deep breath and twist the lock, pushing the door open anyways. There’s no way the man at the front desk would just let anyone walk right up. Perhaps it’s maintenance?

But no. Instead of seeing a worker dressed in uniform and fixing a leak, you see Linda Drysdale lounging in the armchair of your living room, legs crossed with a naturally unamused demeanor as her blue eyes flicker across the flat screen TV. She glances up at you as if she’s lived there her entire life, eyebrow lifted. “Finally. I didn’t realize tennis practice took so much time, how many methods can possibly be involved in hitting a ball back and forth?”

You look at her in disbelief for a few moments, trying to process that your ex-boyfriend’s mother is inside your home right now despite the fact that you and Ransom broke up three years ago. You aren’t even offended by her words; you’re aware of how blunt and straightforward the seemingly harsh lady can be- she was practically a true mother-in-law to you when you and Ransom were dating. You finally speak. “Linda. What are you doing here? You can’t just- how did you even-”

“The young man in the lobby clearly isn’t getting paid enough. A twenty was all it took. Might want to move somewhere else before he just casually allows a serial killer to walk in.” She rolls her eyes, then mumbles under her breath, “Or my son.”

“What?” you ask, and she shakes her head, looking up with a slight authoritative smile crossing her lips. “We need to talk, Y/N. I’m just going to get straight to the point. My son is ruining his life, as per usual, and I’ve had enough of it. I did everything I could to get him out of this damn lawsuit, to keep him out of jail, and he’s just-- Christ, he’s an ungrateful brat, that’s what he is.” She looks fed up, the sharpness in her eyes seeming as though she’s ready to strangle the man. “Drinking himself to death, fucking a new girl every night, on every single drug you can think of-- he’s a little piece of shit, even without being able to leave the house.”

“And you’re telling me all of this, why…?”

“Because he loves you.” She states simply, and you hate that the words make your heart race. “I know he still loves you, and that you’re the only girl on this planet he’ll ever love. He’ll listen to you, Y/N,” she insists, “and so you need to go see him. Better yet, just date him again. He was a significantly better person when he was with you.”

You look at her shocked, slowly shaking your head as you let out a quiet scoff. “Linda. He tried to kill someone. He’s the reason your father died. How can you ask me to go back to him? Why do you even care what happens to him, after everything he did?” 

“Because he’s my son. And maybe you’ll understand one day, when you have a child of your own. But what I understand is that you could turn him into someone his family can approve of. Or, at least, even tolerate.” She adds with a roll of her eyes before continuing, “He tried to be good for you, Y/N, you know that.”

“Good?” You look at her incredulously, starting to get a little heated. “He told me he didn’t want to be with me anymore just because I was trying to have my own career! He couldn’t stand me putting so much time into tennis. He hated me playing tennis. That’s not what a “good” boyfriend does, okay? It’s not my responsibility to fix him back up when he couldn’t even be a support for me in the first place.” 

She quickly waves her hands, frowning slightly. “Okay, okay. Fine, don’t think about getting back together with him. Just see him, at least. Please.” She sighs deeply, looking down for a moment as she rubs her temples before looking back up at you. “I’m begging you here, Y/N. I can’t just stand here and watch this boy waste all my hard earned money for his own selfish needs. Hell, if I could, I’d just stick him in jail now if I could. He doesn’t deserve this freedom at this point.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you look away. “What a nurturing mother,” you mumble under her breath, and although she hears you, she doesn’t remark on it. She sighs again instead, looking at you somewhat frustrated and helpless. “Just go over to his house, only for an hour. Talk to him. Convince him to stop being such a prick.” 

You look at her somewhat frustrated, but finally sigh. You are the only one who’s ever been able to get through to Ransom, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t concerned when you heard the news. The Ransom you knew was an asshole, but he certainly wasn’t a murderer. Something clearly changed in him since you broke up with him, and so maybe Linda was right. 

“An hour.” You finally agree, though give her a warning look. “And if he gets disrespectful or crosses any lines, I’m leaving. I’m not a miracle worker, Linda.” She looks relieved nonetheless, immediately nodding her head. “Of course. Thank you, Y/N.” The two of you stand there for a moment before she lifts an eyebrow, looking at you. “Well? Get over there before he gives himself alcohol poisoning.” You blink, about to protest but sigh. You figure it’s best to get this over with anyways- if you don’t, you’ll be up all night stressing about it. “Fine. But you need to leave first, you can’t- you can’t just hang out in my house when I’m not here, you know?”

“Oh, I’m leaving. This place is a shoebox.” Linda looks around somewhat disdainfully before pausing, looking to you with a smile. “But you’ve… decorated it very well.” You roll your eyes, gesturing to the door. “Goodbye, Linda.”

Her smile remains as she nonchalantly waves, heading out the door.

As you come up to Ransom’s door, your heart is racing. You can hear loud music and obnoxious giggling from inside, no doubt Ransom is throwing some kind of get together- or probably more of an intimate gathering featuring scantily clad women who throw themselves at his good looks and money. You glance over at his BMW shining in the driveway, barely scoffing to yourself. Of all the things to keep intact, he would make sure it was his car. You were with him when he bought that car, and it was probably one of the only “girls” he had ever loved in his life.

You being the other one, of course. You know that at one point, Ransom Drysdale loved you. You can’t help but wonder if that’s still the case.

You take a deep breath and ring the doorbell. The talking and laughing doesn’t stop; these girls are clearly unbothered, but you hear footsteps. 

And then he appears, dressed in a t-shirt and perfectly fitting jeans, his brown hair slightly tousled and his cocky smirk across his lips- until his intoxicated brain registers who you are. He blinks in surprise, smile fading from his lips for just a split second- then quickly returns to his normal self, most likely realizing he absolutely must look composed and confident. “Y/N. I knew you’d come crawling back to me eventually. Took you a while, though, I’m kinda busy right now.”

You stare at him for a few moments; you thought you’d be nervous and apprehensive, but now, as if by magic, any feeling of uncertainty slips away. It’s almost impressive how he has this effect on people, but within less than one minute of this conversation, you’ve already had enough.

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom.” You find yourself saying, suddenly pushing right past him and grabbing his arm in the process. “We need to talk.” You practically drag him into the kitchen, ignoring the confused and even irritated looks of the half naked women on his couch clearly having been in the middle of enjoying his attention. It’s surprisingly easy to maneuver him, most likely because he’s a little too drunk. 

“Wow, hellcat. You really missed me, huh? Unable to find anyone who’s a better fuck than me, I take it? Alright, alright, I’ll squeeze you in. I have to say, I definitely missed your tight little-”

He’s cut off by a sharp sting on his cheek when you slap him across the face, his lips parting into a shocked ‘o’ almost immediately as his blue eyes stare at you in complete shock. Even you’re a little shocked upon where this sudden boldness is coming from, but you decide you’re on a roll and that there’s no need to question it. You came here to say something, and you’re going to say it. You don’t even let him respond. Not that he has the words to, anyways.

“Who the fuck are you anymore, huh? Why are you acting like this? And not just a douchebag fuckboy, either, but a full on killer? What the hell is going through your brain?” you practically scream at him, and he blinks in surprise before his features suddenly become defensive.  “What, do you think it has to do with you? Our break up? You think I’m just so tormented, torn apart, that I’m not over you?”

“I- no, when the fuck did I say-”

“Well then why are you here, Y/N? Why do you, of all people, need to be here right now? Who are you to come show your concern and your goddamn disgust when you’re the one who dumped me?!” His voice is just as loud as yours if not louder, the vein in his neck bulging from anger, his eyes practically a shade darker. You throw your hands up in frustration, retorting, “Why does that even matter, Ransom? Can I not be concerned that the former love of my life turned into a goddamn murderer? Am I not allowed to be a little confused that my ex-boyfriend turned into a fucking psychopath?”

“Former, huh?” His voice suddenly gets low, dangerously low. “So that’s it? You found someone else? Some prissy, preppy tennis playing fuck who lets out the same little grunts and groans out on the court, in the bedroom too? That your type, Y/N? A skinny little-”

“You were my type, Ransom!” you practically scream now, glaring up at him in complete fury. “You know what my type was? Confident, funny, manly, someone who wanted me to be safe and someone who was so thoughtful he remembered everything I liked and disliked, who wanted to do everything he could to make my life better because he knew how to be selfless! Do you even know what that word means now?!”

“Well maybe I became this way because you decided to prioritize tennis! You don’t think that’s a little damn selfish?!”

“Are you-- God, you know what? Maybe you’ve always been this fucking ridiculous, and maybe I was blind. Maybe this is all my fault, Ransom, because I trusted the wrong person. I can’t even fucking believe I-”

And then his lips suddenly crash against yours, his hands grabbing your waist and pinning your small frame against the cool counter, a husky growl of frustration escaping his throat as he kisses you. Rough. You gasp, starting to press your hands against his chest, wanting to push him off… until you don’t. You’re kissing him back fiercely, though still angry as ever, moving your hands to grip his muscular biceps as you dig your nails in. “I fucking hate you,” you hiss against his lips, and he scoffs in between kisses, barely groaning from the feeling of your sharp nails leaving indents in his skin. He’s turned on, and you know it. 

“No you fucking don’t.”

There’s no need for foreplay. There’s no time or patience for that. After easily sitting you up on the counter, he pulls your shirt up over your head only to connect your lips again, his teeth pulling on your lower lip roughly as he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. His hands find your gym shorts and shove them down- he quite literally rips your underwear off, making you let out a muffled squeal of surprise into his open mouth. When you feel his fingers slide up your thigh and rub up against your wet folds, you let out a shaky gasp, moving your hands to grip his shoulder blades through his tee. “O-oh…!”

“You’re fucking soaked for me, cupcake.” His other hand moves up to grip the back of your neck, fingers curling into your brown locks. Despite the distraction of the haze of pleasure rushing through your brain and body, you can’t help but note his fond pet name for you. Every time you got stressed, you’d bake- Ransom would always lovingly make fun of you for this, hence how “cupcake” began. However, he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on this- perhaps on purpose. He’s most likely realized he fucked up, God forbid he show any sign of affection. You let out a short moan when his broad fingers rub your clit, his other hand using the grip on your hair to tilt your head up so your brown eyes are locked firmly onto his blue ones.

“You like that? You see what you’ve left behind for these past few years? You couldn’t possibly have forgetten how good I fuck you, right?” he speaks through husky breaths, panting just as much as you as he rubs. You moan lewdly, though your teeth clench in frustration. “Just fuck me already, Ransom, stop… stop fucking talking…”

He snickers and suddenly stops rubbing, leaving you feeling slightly disappointed despite the fact you asked for it. Hastily unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans and briefs, he wraps his fingers around his throbbing length, groaning lowly to himself as he pumps his shaft. Pressing it against your entrance, he wastes no time in thrusting inside you, gripping your hips tightly as a grunt of pleasure escapes his throat.

“Fuck. Fuck. I forgot… how fucking tight… your pussy feels around my cock…” he groans with half shut eyes as he bucks his hips forward, tilting his head back. “God damn!”

“Ransom!” You hear a girl’s voice come from the kitchen doorway, gasping from both surprise and pleasure as you look up- normally, you’d be embarrassed, but right now, you couldn’t care less. You’re still riding the rush of adrenaline from your rage towards this man, but before you can even comment, he sharply yells at her, “Get the fuck out of here, and take your damn bimbo sluts with you- I don’t fucking need any of you anymore!”

She stares at both of you angrily before grunting in annoyance, whirling around. You moan as Ransom thrusts into you even rougher, your hands sliding up under his shirt to feel his skin, nails once again digging in to relieve your tension. “Mm… mm… don’t… fucking stop…!” you cry out as you hitch your legs high up around his waist, letting him get a better angle as he continues fucking you in the middle of his kitchen. Your body is practically being rocked upwards from how powerful he is, your head buried into his neck as you bite and suck desperately only making him groan even more.

“You still on birth control?” he breathes out gruffly into your shoulder as his hands cup your ass, his teeth nipping and biting harshly. “You still getting checked regularly for STDs?” you retort breathlessly, though to be honest, you’re not worried about that despite his recent history. He may treat his things like shit, but he keeps himself well maintained all to uphold his little rich boy image. He’s actually much more hygienic than one would imagine, and has standards with the women he sleeps with despite coming off as such a playboy.

“Yes, just let me fucking know if I can-”

“Yes, yes, I’m on birth control, come inside me,” you whine demandingly, moving your hands up to grip his brown hair tightly, messing it up even more than before. He smirks, grunting louder as he uses his hold on your ass to rock your hips towards his, the sound and feel of skin slapping putting you into overdrive. “Ransom…! Shit, Ransom, I’m close, fuck, I’m coming!” He groans just from hearing you, chest heaving as he keeps going, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “Come for me, doll, fuck…!”

Your release combined with the sensation of his inside you is euphoric. As much as you hate to admit it, you missed sex like this. You certainly haven’t had it since you broke up. 

He pulls out with heavy breaths, staring at you for a few moments. You swear you catch a glimpse of the old Ransom, the one you fell in love with, the one who would never actually hurt anyone despite coming off as such an asshole.

“Don’t push me away.” You suddenly speak quietly through uneven breaths, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck as you stare up at him.

His hands are still holding your hips, those pacific hues studying every inch of your face with all types of conflict and concern spread across his sharp, handsome features.

“I don’t want to.”

[rogershoe]

Lights, Camera, Action

Part four

(Part three)

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a production assistant on the set of Cursed. The night before your first day at work, you opened your laptop to shockingly realise you’d be working with Daniel Sharman (and a plethora of other amazing actors), someone you’d been watching on screen since you were a teenager. You kept your expectations low, the PAs rarely got to interact with the talent…what was your chance?

Word count: 3.8k

Tag list: @sxperncturalimpala67 @mrsaaronkeener @tinygardensoul @disasterday​ @5am-cigarette @lancelotapricot @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @slytherlight @18somethingpsyche @ceruleanmusings@glxctt @cavillxhenry@lovelyapplessss@hereagainsstuff@linkpk88 @aliceperdida@weeping-redemption@magicalsaladnacho @lancelotapricot@ineedyourskulls@fandomarstrash @cheythefangirl @pure-ghost @estrielle @tessxblxckthorn @isaac-lahey-is-bae​ @bubblyanis

Warnings: age gap between reader and Daniel, swearing, slow burn

Notes: This has definitely been the most fun chapter to write out of all four so please let me know how you liked it!! Also I realised that Cursed was actually filmed in England so for the sake of the story we’re just gonna pretend like it was filmed in LA hahaha. 

Sunday, January 13th, 2019

10:31 am

You rubbed your eyes, swiping across your phone’s screen to turn your alarm off. The sun’s light bled through your curtain, giving your room an eery glow. 

It had been almost a week since Huey had informed you that you’d be working with the make-up/costume department as well. You thought you would start on Tuesday of last week (the day after you got the message), but Huey had apparently “forgotten” to inform you that you would actually be starting in a week. On Monday. Meaning tomorrow. 

To say you were a bundle of nerves was an understatement. Naomi had also approached you last week warning you about how you’d be working with the actors a lot more and how you should work on “being completely comfortable” around them. Had she really been that intuitive? Still, you hadn’t had any interaction with them at all since you’d delivered Daniel’s costume to his trailer on Monday. You’d only seen them shoot scenes and talk to the director and other crew members from far off. (Never to the production assistants.) 

You tried to ignore the nerve-wracking thoughts of having to actually interact with the actors and instead focused on Bradley. Yes, Bradley.

 He had invited you to have breakfast with him at the Original Pantry Cafe, a breakfast place he had said was the “very best in LA”. To be completely honest, you were a bit taken aback when he had asked you….did he mean as in a date? You of course, being the idiot that you were, didn’t bother to clarify, so now you had no idea whether you were just meeting him as friends or something more. You hoped to god it was just as friends. You couldn’t deal with dating at this point… especially with Mr. Daniel Sharman on your mind 24/7. 

11:13 am

The sun warmed your face as you stepped out of your parked car. You had just pulled up to the cafe and proceeded to subtly peek through the window as you walked to the door. Bradley was sitting on a small table inside by the window. Thankfully he was on his phone so he didn’t see you staring. You entered the shop, a small bell tingling above you. The warm smell of fresh bread and eggs and syrup wafted towards your nose. For a second, your belly rumbled and you forgot about all your worries. You glanced towards Bradley and saw that he was now walking towards you, a huge smile on his face. An uneasy feeling suddenly grew inside you as you realised he might think that this was some sort of date. 

“Y/N! How are you?” 

You both started walking back to the table after you gave him a hug, “I’m good” you shrugged off your maroon jacket laughing, “Tired too”

“Really? When’d you sleep last night?” he suddenly swerved around you and pulled out your chair.

“Thanks” you said, sitting down, a funny look spread across your face, “I slept around 4:00”

“Seriously?” his eyes widened.

“Yeah…found a good series on Netflix” you rolled your eyes, smiling.

“I still don’t have Netflix” he sat down and pushed a menu towards you that you then proceeded to open.

“Really?” you laughed loudly, “You’re working on a Netflix show and you don’t even have Netflix?”

He smirked slightly, “I guess I’ll get it once Cursed comes out…anyways, what do you wanna get?”

You flipped through the menu, chuckling, “A coffee for sure”

“Well….. the pancakes are really good….. and so are their omelettes” he said pointing towards a mouth watering picture of a stack of chocolate pancakes. Healthy eating could go out the window for today. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely get those..how about you?”

“I’ll go for the bacon cheese omelette I think”

“Sounds yummy” you said and closed your menu

Bradley called the waitress over and you both gave her your orders. He also ordered a lemon raspberry smoothie. There was an awkward silence when she picked your menus up and left. 

You clasped you hands together resting them on the table, “Bradley?” he looked up at you, “I have a silly question to ask ” you smiled slightly, a nervous feeling growing inside you.

“Shoot” he said grinning.

“Was this meant to be a date?….Or-“ before you could continue, he thankfully interrupted, 

“Do you want it to be?”

Your mind went blank. Of course you didn’t want it to be…but judging by his answer he probably did. 

“Well..” you tilted your head, raising your eyebrows slightly

“You don’t do you?”

You shook your head slowly, a sorry expression on your face, “Did you?”

“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” he said tightening his lips.

Before you could respond, the waitress suddenly came up to your table carrying two plates of mouth watering food. 

“One order of chocolate pancakes” she placed your dish in front of you, “and one bacon cheese omelette…..Enjoy!”

“Thank you!” you and Bradley both said simultaneously.

You grabbed your utensils, spooning a large bite into your mouth. You couldn’t deny that they were delicious..maybe this was the best breakfast place in LA.

“How is it?” Bradley laughed, cutting up his own omelette in from of you. You chewed quickly and swallowed. 

“Delicious Bradley…how about yours?”

He had taken a bite, “Just as good as it was the last twenty times I had it”

You giggled, going back to your own food. The next half an hour was thankfully not awkward at all. Both of you talked about Cursed, the actors, what jobs you had had before….and of course, your little, “promotion”. 

“I’m nervous……how much do you even have to talk with the actors on a day to day basis?” you asked

“Oh barely for me” he said finishing off his omelette, “I mostly work with the basecamp and costume department’s crew…when I accompany the actors to their set it’s usually a silent walk unless they feel like making conversation…which is rarely”

“So you’re saying I won’t have to talk to them as much either?”

“No Y/N you definitely will” he laughed at your widened eyes, “You’re essentially going to be helping the departments get the actors ready for the day…you might not have too much one on one conversation but you will be spending loads of time with them”

“You know that scares the shit out of me” you said scraping the remaining chocolate sauce off of your plate, 

“Aw don’t be….they’re only humans like us after all”

You supposed they were.

12:22 pm 

The second you got home and into your apartment, you shed your jacket, pulled out your phone, opened your contacts and called Talia. You two had met in university and been inseparable ever since. There was no friend you were closer to than her. 

She picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N!! It was meant to be a date right? I knew he was into you!”

You chuckled putting your keys on the table and falling onto your couch. “Slow down Tal…he didn’t say that”

“Well then what did he say?”

“He asked me if I wanted it to be a date”

You could practically hear her eyes roll back into her head, “You idiot…! If it wasn’t meant to be a date, he would’ve been straight up with you and just said so”

“Are you sure?”

“Obviously! Even if it wasn’t meant to be a formal date, he’s definitely into you”

‘What am I supposed to do now?” you huffed

“Is that a serious question?”

“…….Yeah” you said after a pause, guilt lacing your words.

“You go out with him again!” you rubbed your eyes and groaned after hearing her say that. 

She ignored you, “Then hopefully he’ll forgive you for being so clueless and in three or four years I’ll be an aunt to three little kids” she said laughing

You laughed too, “Talia! I’m being completely serious…..I only see him as a friend anyways”

“Why Y/N? If you saw a guy this cute, with a great personality I might add, two weeks ago, you would’ve been head over heels for him”

“That’s not true!”

“You know it is Y/N…..what changed?”

“I don’t know……I guess it might be my little crush on Daniel”

“Daniel?….You’re really going to let a tiny celebrity crush hold you back from true love?”

“I know it sounds bad Talia! And in the past I wouldn’t have…but now that I’m working with him things are….. different”

“Have you even talked to him?”

You paused thinking, “Yeah I have”

“And was that more or less than five words?”

“Less” you said scowling..”But it still counts!”

“Ugh Y/N, fine…If you see Bradley as just friends that’s okay….but don’t let Daniel cloud your real feelings for other guys okay? It’s not healthy to stay loyal to a guy who doesn’t even know your name”

“Okay Talia…thanks…I won’t” you said. She always did give the best advice.

Monday, January 14th, 2019

6:48 am

“Y/N! You excited to work on basecamp?” 

You turned to see Louis standing behind you in the studio next to the crafts (snacks) table.

“More nervous than excited” you said laughing.

“Well Huey wanted me to tell you that the timings have been changed and you’ll be helping the basecamp from 7 to 9 not from 8 to 10”

You checked you watch and your eyes widened, “ But that’s in ten minutes!”

“I know Y/N….you know how Huey is with his last minute changes” he said comfortingly

“Oh I know alright” you said sighing, “I guess I should get going…wish me luck”

He gave you a warm smile, “You’re gonna do great…you’ll have Pandora to keep you company anyways”

You faked a smile….Pandora was better than nothing you supposed.

You walked out of the building, cold damp air hit your face as you let the heavy door close behind you. There was not a hint of blue in the sky, just grey clouds. It had been raining when you had gotten to work and by the looks of it, it was going to rain again later. The ground was wet and you had to walk around dark puddles to prevent your shoes from getting wet.

You went up to the same trailers Bradley had taken you to yesterday. You didn’t know anyone except Siara….thankfully you saw her through the open door of one of the trailers. 

“Hey Y/N!” she said as you walked through the door, wiping your feet on the mat inside the vehicle. 

“Hi Siara…..do I just help you out or is there someone else I’m answerable to now?” you said smiling and tucking your hands into you back pockets. 

“I was told that Huey or Naomi would guide you and Pandora” she responded, going through a rack of dirty looking costumes

As if on cue, a voice sounded through your headset, “Pandora and Y/N, please report to trailer nine”

You tapped on your earphone indicating to Siara that they had just told you and walked out of the trailer.

“Good luck!” you heard her yell.

“Thanks!!”

When you got to trailer nine, you walked inside to find it was huge, almost double or even triple the size of what Daniel’s had been. It had long mirrors on both sides of the van and six white chairs on each side instead of three. There were almost 9 people in the trailer (which you would think would be a lot but in the huge vehicle it seemed like barely any). You looked around and saw Naomi and Pandora standing together in a corner opposite from the trailer’s door. You went up to them.

“Y/N!, how’ve you been?” Pandora said, a huge smile stretching itself across her face. Why was she being so nice to you all of a sudden?

“Good, how about you?”

“Ladies! We don’t have time for chit chat. The talent and extras will be here any second and you need to be ready”

You nodded crossing your arms over your chest. “I told all this to Pandora but I’ll repeat myself”

 She turned towards her,  “Pandora, you will be helping out mainly with the extras since they have such extensive make-up and costumes…you might help with the talent if they need it too depending on the day” 

Then she turned to you, “Y/N, you on the other hand will also be helping out with the readying of the extras and-“ she checked her watch and you could almost see the tension paint itself across her face. “And you’ll be giving a hand to Daniel Sharman’s make-up crew…since two of them resigned”

For a second you didn’t hear what she said and your mind fixated on just Daniel’s name. You nodded subconsciously, swallowing hard. A rush of adrenaline and nerves hit you when you processed that you’d be working with his make-up crew. You honestly still didn’t know what that meant but you were both nervous and insanely excited to find out. Naomi then without another word rushed down the stairs of the trailer and out into the gloomy weather. 

Did this mean you’d get to talk to Daniel? Would he actually notice you now? Or would you just be another part of the huge make up crew? Before you could bombard your poor mind with more intriguing questions, you froze in your spot when you saw the door to the trailer open. Multiple people walked through…extras. 

You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding and looked towards Pandora to see her also watching the extras. A realisation suddenly dawned on you that she was probably being nice to you because she knew beforehand that you were working with the Daniel. You honestly didn’t mind…it was better than when she was in a pissed off mood. 

“I guess we should start helping out?” you said looking at Pandora

She nodded going over to the chairs where the extras were getting seated, the make up crew bustling around them. There were even more of them now, they must have trickled in when you were speaking with Naomi. You saw Jasmine and the blonde make-up artist enter through the trailer…Daniel’s makeup artist. You suddenly gasped, only realising after you did so. 

Pandora looked at you with a funny expression, “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing…sorry” you said shaking your head and walking over to her. Your back faced the trailer door. 

A man, most likely a makeup artist from the looks of it (he had a belt around his waist with multiple makeup brushes and other tools), came up to the both of you. 

“Are you the extra help?”

“Yes” Pandora said

‘Great..” he looked around the trailer, “You guys won’t be doing anything crazy…just acting as assistants essentially to anyone who needs it” You saw his eyes widen as he looked over your shoulder most likely at the trailer door. You didn’t want to seem rude but you couldn’t help yourself as you turned around to find Daniel walking through the door of the trailer. He didn’t have his keys or anything for that matter on him so he must have left them in his personal trailer. His hair wasn’t tied up in a bun today and looked wet…it must’ve started raining outside. 

“Sorry I’m late!” your heart stopped for a second when you thought that he was talking to you, but he was actually looking over your shoulder at the crew member you and Pandora had been talking to. 

He quickly rushed past you and to Daniel, “Oh no no Daniel, you’re just on time!”

He smiled and walked past him to a chair where Jasmine and that other woman were setting up their supplies. You really had to learn her name. You knew you should go to them seeing as you were supposed to help but you were frozen in your spot, you heart beat thudding through your ears. 

“Y/N! You’re helping us today right?” you tore your eyes from Daniel and to Jasmine who was calling out to you from her place next to him. How she knew your name you had no idea…Naomi must’ve told her. 

You opened your mouth to talk but realised that it was better to just go over and see what they need help with. Your mouth tended to go dry when you were extremely nervous (or even excited). 

You walked over to the three of them. Daniel saw you through the mirror and maybe it was just you but you could’ve sworn there was a hint of recognition in his eyes. The second you caught his blue eyes you looked away and at Jasmine. 

‘What can I help with?”

She bent down and pulled out a white cape looking sheet from a shelf and put it on the long table. 

“It’s similar to a hair salon really” she opened a drawer and got multiple long clips out, then proceeding to go stand behind Daniel, “I’ll teach you the little tasks you’ll have to do so don’t worry…the basics are the same for the extras’ makeup as well”

You kept looking at Jasmine not wanting to be caught staring or even looking at Daniel through the mirror. She took a brush and brushed his hair back, using the different coloured clips to clip it out of his face, most likely to get him ready for the makeup. You had never been this close to any of the actors you knew and loved. It felt a bit like a dream really. Maybe it even was. 

You were snapped back to reality when you heard Daniel���s voice. “I know…aren’t we all” he said laughing. 

He must have been responding to something Jasmine or the other woman said, you wished you had been listening. 

“If you pick up things quickly you can be doing all this and I can focus more on the makeup” you heard Jasmine say. She had picked up the white sheet and was now putting it around Daniel’s neck, making sure it was covering his clothes. 

You nodded smiling and suddenly felt his eyes on you. You took a sudden risk and looked in the mirror right at him. His eyes were darting across the trailer now, thankfully not looking at you anymore. You crossed you arms over your chest, an act of subconscious self defence at how self conscious you were feeling at this moment. 

“Can you pass me the makeup wipes?” you heard Jasmine say. She was pointing at a white box on the counter. You quickly grabbed them and handed them to her. She didn’t take them from you but instead pulled a couple wipes out of it. 

“His makeup is essentially the same everyday” she said. She then proceeded to take the wipe and gently rub it across his face, most likely to make sure there was no oil or residue and so they could have a fresh canvas for the makeup. “The tears are the hardest and longest part to do so you’ll probably be needed most then” 

You felt a bit more comfortable now and spoke, "Do you do those too?”

You glanced in the mirror and saw Daniel grin a bit. Jasmine smiled too shaking her head, “Oh no, I’m still learning. Cassandra does the tears and most of his main makeup. Hopefully by the end of the process I’ll be able to do some of it though”

You smiled feeling like a bit of a fool, of course she was still learning. 

You heard Daniel’s voice and assumed he was talking to Jasmine, “You’re a production assistant right?” 

He wasn’t. 

You looked over at him through the mirror to see him looking directly at you. You nodded, smiling. You wanted to say something but the words just wouldn’t make their way out of your mouth. God,  you probably looked like such a starstruck dumbass. 

Cassandra had seemed to disappear, you looked around the trailer and she was nowhere to be seen. You swallowed and breathed deeply trying to calm the adrenaline still making it’s way through your body. 

“Will I just be watching today?” you asked, curious to know how much actual work you’d do.

“I guess so…Cassandra will let you know when she comes back” she said shrugging. She threw the makeup wipe into the bin and smiled. 

“Daniel probably has some of the best skin I’ve ever worked with” she said laughing, “There’s barely any oil….ever” 

He laughed too, “I doubt that” 

Your eyes suddenly fixated themselves on his smile and you found yourself beaming too. 

You quickly snapped yourself out of whatever day dream world you were living in. 

What in the living hell was wrong with you? He was an actor and suddenly just because you had seen him in real life you were falling for him? You had to get your act together….otherwise it could end up being a real and unnecessary distraction. 

You tore your eyes from him and looked at the door to see Cassandra walk back in. 

“Have you shown Y/N the basics?” she asked walking over to you three.

“Yes ma’am…I believe so” she said smiling.

Cassandra smirked looking skeptical, “Has she Daniel?” she said jokingly.

He nodded, lifting a hand to run it through his hair but dropping it at the last moment when he remembered his head was adorned with clips, “I think she has”.

You smiled feeling a bit nervous…Cassandra was a tad more intimidating than Jasmine. “You have to pick up things fast okay Y/N?” She went up in front of Daniel and grabbed what looked to be translucent powder and a brush, handing it to Jasmine. “We don’t have the time to slow ourselves down for you or Pandora”

You didn’t know what else to say other than, “Okay…of course”. You had no room for error apparently, you just had to get into Cassandra’s good books and you’d be fine. She wasn’t as sweet as she’d been on that day where you were still only a set PA. 

You looked at Daniel and found that he had closed his eyes and Jasmine was dabbing a bit of powder over his T zone…probably to absorb the excess oil that she had proudly told you he didn’t have. 

“Do you do a lot of makeup yourself?” Jasmine asked you

“Not usually but sometimes I guess” you said

“So you know all the different brushes?”

 You thought back to the hours of mindless makeup videos you would spend hours watching at 3:00 am when you couldn’t sleep. 

“Yep, I do actually” you said confidently. Thank god you weren’t completely clueless in this new endeavour.

Part five

[pietropatrol]

Marvel High (Part 4)

Read Part 3

A/N: Happy Fic Fri--Saturday! Had this most of the way written up yesterday, but my daughter has not been going down at her bedtime very well so I didn’t get it done before bed! But here I am now, posting as my husband is now trying to get her to go back to sleep. Babies, I tell yah.

Welcome to Marvel High, where being the new kid wasn’t the worst. Your homeroom couldn’t be weirder though; your teacher wears an eye patch and is always shouting for some reason, and a group of dysfunctional teens calling themselves the “Avengers.” Probably the weirdest thing is their insistence that you join.

Pairing: Pietro x Reader Warnings: language, sexual innuendos, teenage substance abuse Words: 1,300ish

The dynamic of the group was odd to witness. They all had drastically different personalities, something you had already gleaned from the bickering during the school day, but under the influence of alcohol, it became even more obvious. It was as if the group was comprised of smaller groups. 

The Maximoff twins were obvious. Natasha and Clint were a pair, that you were sure of. The way they shadowed each other and communicated in their body language was hard to ignore. Either they had been friends for a long time or something was going on between them. Though you felt it would have been inappropriate to ask. Tony and Bruce seemed close, from what you had overheard from their in-depth science conversation at lunch earlier. You could always find Steve, Bucky, and Sam together, but Bucky seemed annoyed whenever he was left with just Sam.

Thor was an outlier and seemed to bounce around all of them seamlessly. His cockiness rivaled Tony’s. Thor appeared to be about six beers deep and enthusiastically telling a story about how he wrestled some unnamed beast in is home country.

“Where is Thor from again?” You turned to Pietro who was watching the group from a distance with you. Though you had felt him watching you when you weren’t looking.

“Some Scandinavian country… we think.” Pietro shrugged. “You sure you don’t want another drink? Nat makes a mean cocktail.”

“I’m sure she does, but I should probably keep my wits about me and not smell like I’ve been drinking. My dad is like a bloodhound with that stuff. One beer was already a risk.”

“So, what is up with your dad anyway? He seems…” Pietro struggled to find the right word.

“Hella protective?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes, hell-ah protective, as you so put it.” Pietro inclined his head in your direction, closing the small gap between your bodies.

“He means well. I haven’t made the best choices in my life. And trouble seems to follow me wherever we go. It’s only a matter of time before it finds me here.” You were being intentionally vague. It was a can of worms that someone you just met shouldn’t have sprung on them.

Pietro furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t push. “So, you set fire to your previous school?” He guided you back to the group and you sat next to Wanda on a loveseat, Pietro perched on the arm.

“Fire? Is Y/N talking about setting her school on fire?” Tony had been making his way to the bar when he heard the word fire. Another lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Yes, but don’t even think about sitting next to us with that lit.” Steve waved his hand to the offending object.

“It’s my house,” Tony guffawed.

“Rule eleven, specifically made for you, is not smoking within the group circle, because not all of us are trying to get lung cancer before twenty-five.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“I think it’s unfair that we have rules specifically aimed at me. But fine.” Tony dropped his cigarette into his glass and joined the group.

“Rules?” You echoed.

“Top secret,” Tony winked, “Back to the fire, what did you do?”

“It wasn’t anything crazy. I was in wood shop and got bored, wondered if I could burn in a design on a plank with my lighter, and it was highly flammable, apparently. It didn’t take long for the rest of the shop to start on fire, the air was basically half saw-dust.” You shrugged, honestly, it wasn’t the stupidest thing you’d done. It was also an accident for once.

“It only went as far as the home-ec classroom. No big deal, aside from being expelled." 

"Lame!" Tony yawned. "Let's play truth or dare!" 

Everyone groaned and threw empty solo cups at him. 

"Why do you always insist on playing?" Nat looked to him, incredulous. "We've been friends long enough that it isn't fun anymore. You just want us to do stupid shit." 

"What's wrong with stupid shit?" Tony insisted. "Besides we have a newbie now!"

  You looked at your phone and saw it was almost ten o'clock. Had it really been two hours already? "Sorry, but I have to head out. Curfew." 

"And here I was thinking you were a trouble maker," Tony smirked. 

"Oh, I am. But I don't want to be grounded for eternity. Great party though, Tony. Thanks for the invite." You made to leave with Pietro and Wanda on following behind you when a young boy, probably about 14, came running in, out of breath. 

"Alright, who invited the freshman?" Steve rubbed his temples. "We agreed, no freshman." 

"Parker isn't going to cause any trouble, the kid's a saint," Tony argued. "What's going on?" 

"Some--oh hi," the freshman saw you. "I'm Peter Parker. You must be new."

"I'm Y/N. You okay, Peter?"  

He was still trying to catch his breath. "Oh yeah! There's a bunch of Hydra High douche-bros who snuck in. They're by the pool." 

"Fuuuucccckkkkk." Bucky cursed. "They're definitely here to start some shit." "Alright, is everybody sober enough to deal with them?" Steve looked pointedly to Tony who was rolling up his sleeves, already looking ready for a fight. 

"We should probably go, you don't need me and Wanda, right?" Pietro looked to Steve. 

"Umm... if you're parked in the driveway, you won't be able to get out. They blocked it with their own cars." 

"Looks like you're going to be late. Sorry." Pietro frowned at you. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. 

"Nah, it's not your fault. How quickly do you think we can scare off these guys?" Tony held up his hand, gaining everyone's attention. "I might have a solution. Let me go down to my basement, and I will meet you out there." 

The group made their way down to the pool. Your other classmates had crowded around, keeping a distance from Hydra.

  Hydra was raiding the outdoor bar and the scariest student among them was lounging on a wicker chair, sipping lazily on a bottle of vodka. A small voice in your head said he was the leader. Maybe it was because everyone else was at work nabbing whatever they could and he was already enjoying their spoils. You just knew. 

"Avengers!" he called out, happily. "Great party!" 

"Avengers?" You whispered to Pietro. 

"I'll explain later." 

The leader's eyes narrowed in on you. "New recruit?" 

The hair stood up on the back of your neck as he stood up and stepped closer to you. He looked you up and down, perplexed. "Do I know you?"

"Doubt it." Pietro pulled you behind him, breaking his line of sight. 

"Maximoff onto a new toy already?" 

"What are you doing here, Keller? I thought we told you not to come near this place again?" Steve pulled the attention to him. "The message was pretty clear when Thor cracked open your forehead." 

"We heard about the dope ass party, Rogers. Thought some of your classmates would want to have a little more fun--" 

"We don't want your shitty drugs." Peter piped up. "Like weed is cool and stuff, but--" 

"Your shit is garbage." Tony sauntered through the group, a contraption strapped to his arms. "And calling it 'Candy Andy' is kinda lame." 

A light emitted from Tony's palm and beam jutted out and shatter the bottle of vodka in Keller's hand. Tony hissed from the hot metal burning into his palm but stood his ground. 

Keller remained calm and held up his hands, though you could see a slight look of terror in his eyes. "Alright, we'll see you around another time then. Good to see you again, Y/N." He winked at you and they took off. 

You froze, you didn't know him, how did he know you?

****

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[secretaryunpaid]

Bed him... check... Let’s set the Trap...

Trap set... But by whom exactly?

Remember this guy... Yeah, it’s Jay... This was my boo right here... I guess it’s time we had a little talk about things... I’ve calmed down enough, at least I think that I have ...

TNA Fanfic

Pairing: Jay Christopher X Dahlia Schuyler

Main Characters: Samuel Dalton and Dahlia Schuyler (property of Pixelberry)

Additional Characters:  Jay Christopher Hunt (aka J.C.) personal character, Jenny Klein (PB owned) , Robin Flores

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  ADULT CONTENT!!!!

Triggers: unexpected sexual partner, explicit music lyrics

Word Count:  1000+ approx.

(I do not own the music/GIFs/Pics used in this fan fiction.)

But First... back to this Celeb Zeta Psi party...

Okay, I knew Jay was cocky, but I just LOVE how he backs his words up... DAAAAYYYUUUUMMMM... Bae put it down! I think I am in love...

Yes... these two new friends were named Bill (because he said B.o.B was getting way too much credit for orgasms and Jesus (because his oral would have you calling for Jesus, or his father, God). I warned you, Jay is cocky... but with damned good reason... Inhale... Exhale... Just.... WOW!

She had fallen for Jay so deeply after just one night under his touch... feeling like a brand new woman and shit.. Forgetting the past events that took place here... Healing, indeed.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him... her mind replaying the prior attention he’d given her body. They had returned to the party, but for Dahlia... everything was now happening in slow motion... she could only vaguely hear the music around her as Jay smiled through the crowd... giving a chin up nod to someone Dahlia was totally oblivious too. After their dance, Jay excused himself for a moment.

Dazed, she just said, “Oh, okay Bae... I’ll just be right here.” Thank goodness for Jenny running up to talk excitedly, or that would have told him unavoidably that he had Dahlia hook, line, and yes... he had definitely sunk her.

“Girl, where the hell have you been?”

“Becoming a woman...” Jen just looked at Dahlia as if she had suddenly sprouted four heads or something... “Girl, what is that even supposed to mean?... But anyway, did you get a good look at that hottie I was grinding with?”...  “I don’t know him, it’s my first time seeing him on campus... Why, what’s up?”

“He said that he was a friend of Sam’s ...” Before Jenny can finish her sentence, Dahlia cuts her off... “No, Jen... I can’t think of him ever again... Things, well... things have changed. I just can’t talk about it right now. Jay is heading back this way. Are you good, though? I might disappear for a bit, but we can ride home together.”

“Nah, girl... That was the other thing I was going to tell you... I’m kinda leaving with him... I’ll drop a pin, so that if I don’t come to rehearsal tomorrow, you will know my last location... but I’m feeling promiscuous tonight. We have to talk about what I learned though, but tomorrow then, promise me..”

Promises made, Jenny leaves just as Jay returns. He leans in, pressing his face at the back of Dahlia’s ear, “Want round two?” Her eyebrow twitch and right cheeked smile is a tell all. He leads her back to the room that new memories have been made in, erasing the old. “Are these bed coverings new? I could swear they were a different color...? Um, ignore me... I guess I’m just anxious.”

Just then “Whisper” by Ying Yang Twins begins to play.

He tells her that he will be right back, he is going to get something to hydrate them later, promising that she will appreciate it later. She isn’t quite sure how much time passes, but in her excitement, she strips down, figuring that he’s wasted enough time... She wants him upon entering that door.

Soon, she hears footsteps approaching the door. She turns the lights out, wanting to take control of this round... Anxiety begins to take over as she thinks of exactly what she plans to do to him. With a devilish grin, she stands against the door watching the knob turn.

As she watches his  silhouette enter the door, she promptly closes it, approaching him. She takes his hands and guides him to the corner chair. She pushes him into the chair, straddling him while lifting his shirt over his head. A gentle moan is the only sound heard other than the continuous music wafting throughout the house.

She unzips his pants, then runs her hands over his length to verify his excitement. He begins pulling her dress up her thighs, moving her panties to the side, then enters her with a powerful thrust.

Taking control of this round back into her will, she holds his thighs down with the tops of her feet planted firmly. She uses the added momentum to ride his erection with reckless abandon, driving him deep within her... until... she stops her movement abruptly...

Jay? He says nothing, but leans in to kiss along the underside of her chin, pulling her to him... But she now has her confirmation... She’d realized that she’d adjusted to his erection a bit to easily... This wasn’t Jay’s cologne that she smelled. 

The light comes on as Jay enters the room with the beverages he’d left for. Afraid to turn and look at the face of the male she was straddling, who’s erection was building instead of subsiding....

Then it hit her... panic started to build as she began to recognize the cologne...

“Oh no...”

She became totally petrified, unable to move. How could this be happening to her again?...

------ Meeting Robin-----

Planning her revenge would prove to be easier than she thought. Dahlia didn’t want to take this the same way as last time... She was finally realizing that where she thought she was the bad person for sleeping with a drunken Samuel Dalton, she had been set up from the start.

“Hi, we’ve never met... You’re Robin right. I’ve heard around campus that you’re friends with some... talented people... I have a project that I need some help with. I can make it worth your time...” She drags her nail against his chest, sliding it teasingly down the center of his chest... giving him that “I’ll do whatever you want, if you help me out” lash batting, tilting her head as she runs her tongue seductively across her lower lip. Will she make good on her subtle hinting of pleasuring him?...

Robin had many connections around campus. He knew where to get the little pills to make you forget life and just chill... he knew people who had hacker abilities... Let’s just go ahead and say that he was the most resourceful person on campus per the grapevine.

Thanks to Jen, Dahlia now knew most of the story. She had been targeted by this elite group on Princeton’s campus. Their name... “The Boys of Princeton”...

Although they rival during Stomping of the Yard, members from the various campus Fraternities have joined together, forming this private society. It is a very selective group, and no matter their differences, members had to honor the request made of one another.

These select members were offered an immunity afforded to the richest of the rich... dismissed misdemeanors and other violations of the law, i.e., DUIs, traffic tickets, fender benders... just to name a few.

She had been targeted as a challenge among the group. Only one of them had to gain her attention, to sway her to interest, and the rest would fall to the group... Once she became the ‘property’ of one, she would be the property of them all. These men recycled their women among the group, some did so willingly, some did so according to their code. The females would be oblivious to this group and their sinister practices.

Robin’s connections would prove to be useful in uncovering the identities of every person who sought to or became members of this group. She would expose them to prevent this from ruining another girls life, as it has clearly affected hers...

----- Future talks with Jay ---- 

Goddammit, answer the phone...

“Umm, is this not a good time to talk to you Jay?”...

“Dahlia?”

I told you that in order to forgive you for what happened, you would have to be at my beck and call. I didn’t press charges, but there is no statute of limitations, don’t push me... I’ve sent you the address... be here in an hour... I don’t care what you have going on...

Dahlia had made it a point to keep up with Jay’s career, or lack thereof. A certain Ms. Klein had contacted the parents of one Mr. Jay Christopher Hunt.

Mr. Bump-N-Grind had told her, in his inebriated state, that the Sorority both she and Dahlia were members of was in fact founded, funded and currently owned by none other than Mrs. Janelle and J.B. Hunt... parents of one J.C. Hunt.

[drabbles-mc]

All The Stops

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Could i request a Creeper fic? Like you're sick and he is taking care of you. Neti pot and secret family soup recipes and all lol.

Warnings: language, Creeper being Extra but we love him for it

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I love Creeper so much. I love writing for the sappy sweet side of him, too. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

General Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @queenbeered​ @sillygoose6969​ @sesamepancakes​ @yourwonkywriter​ @chibsytelford​ @gemini0410​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @encounterthepast​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @petlaufeyson​ (If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!)

You’d told him not to worry, to stay away so you didn’t end up getting him sick too. Whatever it was that you had left you feeling like you got hit by a semi. Your whole body ached, and you could hardly breathe out of your nose. What had started off as a cold you thought you could just ignore and brush off, very quickly turned you into a zombie.

You were caught between trying to down-play it so he wouldn’t worry, and over-selling it so he would leave you alone and not end up getting sick himself. You should have known better, though. He was far too clingy and hell-bent on taking care of you to stay away. It was sweet, and you appreciated it, but you didn’t want both of you to end up feeling like death warmed over.

When you heard the knock at the door, you knew exactly who it was. You let out a long sigh as you forced yourself up off the couch. You folded your arms over your chest as you shuffled to your front door. When you opened the door, you came face-to-face with Creeper. His eyes were full of concern as he stood on your front steps, large cardboard box in his arms.

“You didn’t tell me you were this sick,” he said as he walked inside.

You shut the door behind him as you replied, “Because I knew you’d do…all of whatever this is.”

He made his way to your kitchen, setting the box down on your counter. Turning back around to face you, he took a moment to really look at you. His lips turned down into a frown as he looked at you bundled up in his sweatshirt with the hood flipped up, toes curling against the cold floor. He stepped toward you, gently resting his hand against your forehead.

“You should’ve called,” he pulled you into a hug.

As much as you didn’t want to be touched, you had to admit that it was nice to feel his strong arms wrapped tight around you. you managed a small smile as you leaned into his chest, “Didn’t have to, you still showed up,” you gestured towards the box on the counter, “What’s all that?”

He let go of you to walk back over to everything that he had brought in, “Your cure.”

You chuckled as you walked and sat across the counter from him. You rested your chin in your hands as you watched him unpack everything that he’d brought over. His focus was evident on his face as he set everything out—brows furrowing in concentration.

“You really don’t have to do all of this, Neron,” you told him with a slight shake of your head.

“Of course I do,” he looked almost offended, “You’re sick. I can’t just let you suffer alone.”

You smiled, not wanting to argue the point any further. Clearly, there would be no changing his mind. You amused yourself by looking over all the different spices that he had with him. While you did that, he started to root around your kitchen and pull some things together.

“Anything I can do?” you asked.

“Go lay down and rest,” he walked around to your side of the counter, “I’ll carry you to bed.”

You laughed, which in turn made you cough, “Stop, Neron, I can walk myself to bed.”

He shook his head as he scooped you up in his arm, “I got you, baby.”

You didn’t have the strength to fight him on it, so you let yourself get whisked away. It was an incredibly short walk to your room but you still let yourself lean into him.

He laid you down on the bed and pulled the blanket up over you. There was a small smile on his face as he caressed your cheek, gently pushing a stray lock of hair out of your face, “Try and get some sleep. It’ll be a while until everything is ready anyway,” he kissed the top of your head.

“Everything? What’s everything?” you smiled up at him.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Get some rest. I love you.”

Before you could ask any more questions, he turned and made his way towards the bedroom door. You listened intently for a few minutes to try and figure out what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for the comfort and warmth of the blankets to put you to the sleep.

You had no idea how long you had been asleep for, but when you woke up you heard the muffled sound of music coming from the far end of the house. A tiny groan slipped past your lips as you sat upright and forced your body to stretch. You swung your legs off the bed and stood up, stretching once more before opening the bedroom door and heading towards the kitchen.

The music got louder as you got closer to the kitchen. And, for the first time in a few days, you would actually smell what was being cooked. You had no idea what he was making, but it smelled great so you weren’t worried. He didn’t hear the quiet pattering of your feet over his music, so you were able to sneak in and find your seat at the counter without him noticing you. You watched him bobbing his head and mumbling along with the lyrics of the song that was on. Despite your exhaustion you smiled. He seemed so at-home.

“How’s it comin’?” you asked.

He spun around, ladle in his hand raised and ready to strike. When he saw that it was you, he lowered his hand with a sigh. He shook his head, “Can’t sneak up on me like that, Mama.”

“Or what?” you chuckled, “You gonna accidentally beat me up with a soup ladle?”

He wagged it at you accusingly, “Bourne almost killed someone with a rolled-up newspaper.”

You fought back a cough as you laughed, “You comparing yourself to Jason Bourne now?” you shook your head, “Anyway, how’s all this going?” you nodded towards the stove.

He let the topic drop as he turned back to all of his things on the stove, “Good. Almost done.”

“What is it?” you got up and crept over to get a look.

He watched you with a smile as you peeked into the pot on the stove, “Vargas Family recipe. Mom used to make this all the time when we would get sick. Fixed our whole shit, swear to god.”

You laughed, “Sounds exactly like what I need,” you turned back around to face him, “Never knew you were so good in the kitchen.”

He smiled as he pulled you into a gentle hug, “You never gave me a chance. Had to be knockin’ on death’s door in order to get you to rest.”

You chuckled, leaning into his touch, “That’s true.”

Sitting back on the other side of the counter, you rested your chin in your hands as you watched him finish up everything that he was preparing. There was something relaxing about watching him shuffle busily around your kitchen. He was completely in his own zone.

It wasn’t too long before he was turning to you with a bowl of soup in each hand. There was a proud smile on his face as he nodded towards the living room. He waited for you to get comfortably situated on the couch before handing you your bowl.

For a while, the only noise in the house came from the television. Each of you ate in comfortable silence. You were savoring it—this was the first thing you were able to taste in almost a week. And Creeper was too busy watching you and making sure you were alright and enjoying it to say anything. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t care. A week of hardly forcing yourself to eat was all catching up to you.

Once your bowls were empty and discarded on the coffee table, he pulled you so that you were laying with your head in his lap. He gently rubbed your shoulder as you settled against him.

“There’s tea for you, too, when you’re ready,” he let you know.

You hummed in response, feeling the most comfortable you had in a while, “Thank you.”

He looked down at you, brows furrowing, “You still sound stuffy.”

You chuckled, “I’m still sick, Neron. Your soup was good but I don’t think it’s magical.

“I brought my neti pot,” he nodded towards the box he’d brought with him, “We can jus hook you up,” he demonstrated with his hand how it worked, “and clear you out. Tellin’ you, baby, you’ll be good as new.”

You shook your head, sniffling as you did, “Hard pass, Neron.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you tried not to laugh, “that’s gross.”

“I clean it after I use it!”

“I’m sure you do!” you couldn’t hold back your laugh, “Still gross.”

“Will you at least drink the tea?”

You smiled as you sat upright so he could get up, “Yes, baby, I’ll drink the tea.”

You smiled as you watched him shuffle back over to the kitchen and grab a mug for you. He was so careful pouring it and bringing it back over to you. You smiled as you cupped it in your hands. He sat back down next to you, gently rubbing his hand up and down your back. Even though you were still sick, you felt like a new person after a decent nap and a good meal. His touch was more than welcome.

“Thank you,” you rested one hand on his knee, “I really appreciate all of this.”

He shook his head, “This ain’t nothin’. If I had more time to prepare I would’ve pulled out all the stops.”

You chuckled, sipping on your tea, “This was more than enough. Thank you, seriously.”

“I love you. I got you—whatever you need,” he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“I love you too,” you leaned against his side and pulled your feet up onto the couch, settling into the comfort of him being there to take care of you when you needed it.

[katreal-fic]

Since tumblr was weird about the last post and stuck the read more in the ask itself which is SILLY. This is what would have originally been Ersatz Abyss’ Prologue:

Obviously spoiler warnings. Pls do not read unless you know what happened to Dirk x3

Dirk > Reflect on Your Latest Bad Decision

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are being reckless again.

You acknowledge that.

You don’t know what you are thinking, throwing yourself into battle after battle, long after your muscles have started to protest with fatigue, flirting with the jaws of pain and injury.

You acknowledge that too.

Maybe that’s the problem. You aren’t thinking at all.

Or more precisely, you don’t want to be thinking.

Not about Jake.

(You can’t stop thinking about Jake.)

Not about the fact that your messages are sitting unheeded and unresponded to in a Pesterchum window, banished to the lower right corner of your shades. Even the slightest focus on the application has it popping open, bidden by the transparently mid-level conscious desire of your too-busy brain, despite the very clear fact that you don’t want to be thinking about it at all.

You don’t want to see the sea of orange messages tumbling through the semi-transparent application like waves. See the green pip of his online status reminding you that he’s probably seen it, and isn’t answering them at all. At least you know he’s alive, even if Jane had to be the one to reassure you of that.

It’ll be two weeks tomorrow.

You want to scream out your frustration--your fear, because you love him and why would he visibly, pointedly, unmistakably ignore you like this if you love him??? If he loves you back???--but that wouldn’t be cool at all, so you just press your lips shut behind the blank visage of your rad, flame painted gas mask,and clench your jaw and pull your goddamn sword through the air, cleaving the monster--you don’t even know what kind of monster it is, you don’t care--in twain. It’s not even a neat cut, one half slouching back in on the other with a heavy squelch, joining a number of others in various states of dismemberment across the mossy green stone of this tomb.

Green.

Green.

Why the FUCK was everything here green?

Your auto-responder’s text isn’t green as he pointedly takes control of the application and shoos away the errant window, overriding your traitorous brain’s hyper-fixation and opening up a new chat.

(h)TT: You really need to stop thinking about this. (h)TT: It’s a most inconvenient failing of your organic processor, falling into such fickle human traps such as useless recursive and perhaps even reductive feelings. (h)TT: It makes me feel momentarily thankful for the fact that I am a computer, and thus immune to such failings. Perhaps you should look into making a conversion yourself. (h)TT: It seems you need to take a step back and ask yourself what Robojesus would do. (h)TT: What would Robojesus do, Dirk? (h)TT: The answer is decidedly not slaughter an entire tomb’s population to assuage your hurting feefees because your boyfriend is giving you the cold shoulder.

You ignore him.

(h)TT: Dirk, I’m 99.9% sure the zombie is actually dead again. For the hundredth time. You can put the sword away now.

You jerk away from the corpse with it’s pitiful grist yield and don’t answer. However, you don’t put the sword away as prompted. And he keeps prompting. You consider shutting your shades off entirely--him off entirely. You could do it. One thought. One thought and they’d be powered the fuck down in the middle of that red diatribe he’s going through, bleeding through the screen and into your eyeballs.

It’s just a thought however. Instead you forcibly override his control of the display--you are the primary user after all, that’s how you coded that shit--and close the text window.

Perhaps it isn’t fair, shutting him out like this, but you’re angry and hurting and you just want to work out your frustrations on the goddamn game constructs in peace.

The poisonous green kryptonian mists swirl around you as you move onto the next room, slithering over your skin like a cloud of tiny snakes, tugged along with your movements. Notification after notification stack up in the corner of your display. You mute that too, while your katana cleaves into the skull of some sort of reanimated reptilian creature, and just keep moving.

The next window to pop up is baby blue. Stopping you dead in your tracks.

Jane.

Oh.

Fuck.

Him.

You pretend you don’t see it. You don’t want to snap at Jane. It’s not her fault she’s being used in your auto-responder’s petty harassment campaign.

Then after a thought, you shut down Pesterchum entirely before he can drag Roxy into this. Going offline. Incommunicado outside of yourself, and the version of yourself living in your personal computing device. Actually, for that you cut off the network access to the shades entirely so he doesn’t try something else.

You might as well be seeing red--figuratively, not literally, you refuse to let him open a chat window--with the anger that seethes within you right now. At Jake. At him. It’s all the last couple weeks of frustration of an on again, off again, up and down roller coaster of a relationship that you wouldn’t allow yourself to feel for fear of driving Jake further away, all bubbling up and fizzing over, spilling out of you like a soda bottle filled with Jake-English shaped mentos.

You’ll have to get down on your knees and clean it up later. Put in the elbow grease and mop up the explosion of sticky, nasty, dirty coke. Get your thinkpan going about how sustainable this is. How whether the distinction of being Jake English’s number one bae is worth all this stress and the strain that has reduced your relationship to what feels like a step down from zero. But.

That’s later. For once in your life, in the isolation of these desecrated tombs in this ruined city, on a planet that belongs to you and no one else…

You allow yourself to feel.

If AR wants to stick his virtual nose in the middle of your carefully quarantined quest for catharsis then isn’t it the equivalence of someone putting their head in the metaphorical sendificator? You suppose he’s just following his nature. Meddling in other people’s business. Clinging. Unable to just let shit be.

Your nature. Orange text going on and on and on. Scrolling down an empty screen.

One last room. You’ve explored enough of these tombs over the last almost half-a-year of your life to know they come in a pattern. Some battle rooms, some puzzle rooms, and then finally a treasure room. The end. You won. Have yourself a fucking sticker for your trouble. You’ve already cleared this one before, so you don’t even have the satisfaction of a mini-boss or even a random lore tablet waiting for you. Not that you ever really cared about the history the game tried to create for this place in order to justify your potential character development on this planet.

It’s still the end. A hollow one, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

A sun-faced statue towers above a chest tucked into a nook at the far end of the room. Yaldabaoth. Your denizen. A giant-ass snake worm thing with a fucking sun for a head. So stupid. Was it named that after your internet browser, ganked off your machine by Sburb when it populated this stupid session, or was it all just one giant cosmic guffaw that everything matched like that?

Not that it matters, your goal is the exit teleportalizer in the small room behind the statue, so you can check this particular cluster of rooms and corridors off your map and move on to the next one. Find a new pack of mobs to take your frustration out on. Respawning tombs were the best, all the catharsis of mindless slaughter without having to worry about getting ambushed by a fucking mini-boss.

After four consecutive tomb runs you’d think you’d have beaten your pesky emotions out at least thrice over.

You’d much rather be numb.

A low battery system notification forces its way into the center of your screen, and you audibly sigh, that’s how exasperated you are. The extent to which your auto-responder is dead set to be a nuisance would be mind boggling if he wasn’t based on a literal clone of your own brain. Honestly, you’d be disappointed if he did stop trying.

You dismiss it. Another one pops up. Then another. And another. A whole fuckton of spam popups so thick you can barely see the room in front of you.

This is ridiculous.

You open a memo.

(d)TT: The shades don’t have a battery, dumbass. (h)TT: The room isn’t clear, dumbass.

Your eyes flick towards the treasure chest off to the left.

Spikes slam down over the door behind you, and in the distance, the door ahead, as you note that, yes, there are indeed chests tucked in the coils of the serpent statue. Closed and unlooted. Two of them in fact.

Okay. That’s fine. You’ll need to update your maps.

Or maybe you don’t, because once you kill this bitch it’ll be correct again.

You hear the growl behind you, the clink and crunch of bone and magic and metal as a giant armored skeleton spawns. You haven’t had to fight one of these since…

Since you last came through with Jake.

Fine.

You wanted a fucking fight anyway, didn’t you?

It’s big. At least twice as tall as you, and you’re not tiny by any stretch of the word. But big means slow and you can dance circles around slow. That giant hammer is useless, if you cared enough to you’d laugh in the face of those sluggishly stilted swings. Choreographed so obviously even Jake could have--

Your katana screeches against the mace’s handle, leaving you grinding your teeth in pain as it resounds in your ears, the impact threatening to yank it from your hands. But your grip is proper, the result of years of diligent study, and your strength is beyond human, so you just ignore that shit. You ignore the green fire in the skull’s eyes. The too sharp canines. The fist that comes around ready to smash your head like it’s a fucking grape.

You lose yourself in the fight. In the strain of muscles and the feel of noxious mist swirling around you. Jake doesn’t exist. It’s just you and the sword and ignore the fact that you’ve never taken one of these down alone before, because Jake always came tomb diving with you and it was something you two did together you did everything together this was so fucked up. There’s two chests. Your trials were made to be completed in a pair.

What did you do wrong?

You were too clingy that’s what. Too desperate. Too much and you sent him running, didn’t you?

You aren’t really angry at Jake. You’re angry at yourself, because you’re a self-centered bastard like that. Everything comes back to you.

An alarm blares through your speakers, breaking you free from your spiral of self pity and you flinch. Absorbing the message flashing red in the middle of your screen.

(h)On your left! Watch out for the second spawn!(h)

The unseen impact sends you into a wall.

No, not into the wall. Through the wall. You land with a crash, cracking stone. Screen going dark. No message. No red text. Just blood and glass that falls away as you reach up disbelieving, shards of metal and glass digging into skin so numb you soon can’t feel it. You can’t see, blood seeping into your eyes, leaking from your nose. You think you broke it. Maybe. The shades just.

Crumble.

Shattering to the ground in a sparking set of shrapnel, falling with sharp clinks that echo damningly in your ears,somehow able to be heard over the pounding of your heart, the organ responsible for pumping the blood leaking from deep gashes around your eyes where glass and metal fractured and you’re lucky you aren’t fucking blind but---

Two monsters groan and creak behind you.

You can’t stop.

You can’t--

You push yourself off magenta stone, leaving the remnants of your shades broken and useless on the raised slab and whirl around to face the pair of fucking skeleton guards that just fucking broke--killed--your--

…

…

...

The rest of the fight isn’t important.

What’s important is you survive. That your path leads you back to your makeshift workshop in your living room, glass and metal in your hands, trying desperately to pull shit back together with the dying hope that you can salvage your auto-responder’s programming from the remains.

It’s not like you have a fucking backup.

A backup wouldn’t mean anything anyway.

He’s--

Fuck.

Maybe it was a stupid practice to not keep a physical copy of his code elsewhere. Keep his core program somewhere else. Just in case. This is a scenario you both had argued over many, many times, always leading back to the ethics and philosophical framing of trapping yet another copy of yourself somewhere. Inactive and alone, on the sheer chance of a just in case. Would it even be him, if you removed or copied him from that one single chip from whence you’d initially activated him?

He’d adamantly refused, of course, and you’d felt guiltily responsible enough for him and his situation that you’d tabled the discussion.

As infuriating as he was, he was still alive. He did have a right to his own choices.

You shut off his network access.

Or he was--

No.

You locked him out of nearly everything.

No.

You refused to listen, so wrapped up in your own fucking feelings.

You don’t--

He would have died entirely alone. All for a petty little argument.

You refuse to accept it.

And now you have to live with the fucking consequences.

...what are you going to tell Roxy?

You found the chip, at least. In the wreckage. It looked whole. The protective casing surrounding it was dented and crushed along the edge that made removing it for inspection downright impossible if you didn’t want to further damage the interior workings. Your hands are shaking as you clean out the debris from the micro data transfer point, ignoring, as you always do, the ghost of a blood splatter your brain tries to fill in for you. Cleaning that up had been one of the first things you did. It’d corrode the component, otherwise. It doesn’t stop you from remembering it was there.

It’d taken too long for your face to stop bleeding. You rub your eyes, careless of the scabbed over wounds that just barely missed irreparably damaging your ocular organs. The pain still pulses under your skin. A constant presence since you pulled the shards of glass out of your face. Your game-constructed dreamself healed that shit faster than your original one would have, but it still isn’t right. Isn’t normal. What should be nothing more than fading lines by now are angry raised ridges, the shadows of which peek out from beneath your shades. Likely invisible to most, they are obvious to you whenever you look in the mirror. A reminder.

Your guilt, maybe, manifesting for the world to see.

But that didn’t matter, not really. What’s one more thing to hate yourself for? It’s not like it’ll change anything. You’re too stubborn and rigid to change. Besides, there’s no point when he’s--

None of that. You suck in a breath. In for four. Hold. Out for seven.

You don’t know that. Your free hand lands on the cable sitting innocently next to your monitor, fingers hooking around it like jerky claws as you drag it towards you. You take one last look, squinting through your backup pair of shades--and then pushing them up in your hair because even if the light strains your eyes you can’t do shit if there’s still debris in the port.

Okay. All clear. The lenses settle back on your nose--too light, lacking the weight and presence your broken set did, tricked out as they’d been--but you click the connector cable into the data point and push away from the clear space on your workbench, pulling up in front of your monitor instead.

The diagnostics are simple ones. Pinging the connection. Searching for indexed files. Searching for--

Well, you don't want a bunch of corrupted data, but even that would be better than nothing at all. Nothing would mean the chip was probably crushed into unsalvageable pieces in the depths of its casing.

Either that or a busted connector. Which would mean you’d have to risk breaking through the casing anyway. Which you don’t want to do.

It’s a moot consideration anyway, because the console eventually finishes its search and lights up in lines and lines of white on black, listing files and indexes. Thank god. You navigate the directory, nervously noticing the number of unreadable filenames and broken links. You check through several more harmless methods--unsecured folders and chat logs if you remember the paths correctly--only to find some of them eerily empty or unreadable.

Christ, you don’t know if you’ll feel better or worse if you find out he’s still kicking but missing half his functions. Or memory. Wouldn’t that effectively be a lobotomy?

You pull up Pesterchum, opening the memo you’d had open earlier. Looking back at the red and orange text from your childish snark off makes you feel sick. A big ol’ heaping glob of guilt roiling in your gut.

You’re an asshole.

Now isn’t the time to indulge in gratuitous self-flagellation.The wired connection should bypass the fact that he has no broadcasting capabilities. (Because you shut them off)

(d)TT: AR. (d)TT: Earth to Hal. (d)TT: Houston’s commands have just come in, they need you to compile a report on all the reasons your system operator is an idiot. (d)TT: Because at this point I think I deserve it.

You don’t think he’d be able to resist an open season like that. (note to self: thank alex for the dialogue)

But he does. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself when the minutes tick by without any lines of red text springing across the screen

(d)TT: Do you remember that time you told me to stop being a dumbass and I ignored you? (d)TT: This is the part where you say I told you so.

Time drags on. It's infuriating. You can almost hear it inside your head. Echoing. Even if you know the only clocks you have are digital and therefore make no more sound than your computer does, humming away.

(D)TT: Please?

…

…

…

The pit in your gut yawns wide before you. This was it. You might have to actually face the facts. You aren't--aren't like Jake. You can't delude yourself into thinking that everything will be alright if you just put on a cheerful attitude and hope for it to be true.

He might be gone.

Really gone.

You find his core file, but it's inaccessible remotely. Even your overrides don't do shit. You can't do anything from here. You can't break it open. You should just throw in the towel. The deed is done. You hold the shattered glass from the display in the palm of your hand, picking it up from where you'd set several chunks on your desk, some of which you’d had to dig out of your face.

It should be a relief, really. You two had never gotten along. Even before he started pushing your limits and you retaliated in an ever escalating war of bullshit. The world only needs one Dirk Strider. One of you would inevitably end up killing the other, seeing your flaws reflected back at you so clearly. In the path to perfection, isn’t it the flaws that must be eliminated?

Broken glass cuts into your palm as you squeeze your fist around the shard, bright red blood dribbling down the fractal edges, gleaming in the bright overhead lights of your workstation.

You’ve thought about it before. Of course you have. You’ve thought about letting yourself fall on your own sword before, wielded by your own hand, and he’s an even easier target. Everything you hate about yourself, bundled up in one nice neat little digital package, staring you literally in the face. Inescapable. Uncontrollable. You’ve thought about taking that reinforced steel and glass and twisting until it breaks.

But that’s all it was. A thought. Because he’s your responsibility.

Christ on a fucking cracker, he’s a pain in your ass but you didn’t want him dead.

You can't just leave it. Even if the chances are small, what do you have to lose? You can't look Roxy in the face (or even at her text, you’re already ignoring several messages from her because what the fuck do you say?) if you don't try every possible option, and there's one, no, two options left as you see it right now.

He was designed to predict and respond to your thought patterns above all else. The connection works, being able to navigate the directory affirms that. If the function that connected to Pesterchum was inaccessible then maybe you could get through some other way.

You just have to build a brand new interface around that busted casing and get some fucking neural interfaces up and running. If you know nothing else, it’s that for better or for worse, you can’t block out your own damned thoughts.

You plunge into your work, because that’s all you can do right now.

It’s almost a new day--although what exactly comprises a day at this point is arbitrary since everything is just shifting shades of green--when you finally pry yourself away and take a break, stretching your stiff back and rubbing your palms into your strained eyes. You can’t wear your shades, or turn down the lights, when dealing with components so small. The constant vigilance is wearing on you, a constant state of fatigue where one wrong move could render a part unusable and require you to start the process all over again. The only reason you’re even stopping right now is because you’re getting careless.

Your fingers ache under the brightly colored cutie mark stamped bandaids, the tips red and blistering from where your hand slipped and brought them into contact with the soldering iron. They’ll heal.

In for four.

Hold.

Out for seven.

You can do this.

Jane checks in once it’s something closer to a respectable time. She always does, you can count on it like clockwork. The pings from Pesterchum on your desktop drag you away from your workstation--slowly coming together--and you realize you never responded to her--yesterday. The messages of concern are still sitting pretty in their baby blues as you reluctantly click the window open.

GG: Now what’s this I hear about you going off on some madcap adventure over there Mr. Strider? GG: Your auto-responder was quite put out by your actions! Demanded I make it my business to grab you by the collar and tell you off, as it were. GG: I understand you might need some space at the moment, but do let me know if I can stop by at any time. You know I’m always here to talk if you need it. I’ll even bring your favorite cookies! GG: I’ll refrain from shaking you despite your auto-responder’s direct request. (d)TT is idle! GG: Oh bother.

It’s the newer messages that prompted the recent pings, time-stamped as they were with the current date and time, several minutes ago.

GG: Dirk, you know I don’t like meddling in your affairs, but I’ve heard neither hide nor hair from either of you all night! Don’t make me dig out my magnifying glass and track you down. GG: At least let me know you’re safe. (d)TT: I’m alive. GG: Oh thank heavens! That’s good. I’ll admit I’ve been beside myself with worry when you didn’t respond, not even through your auto-responder. Between the two of you I had thought it was quite impossible to go radio silent! (d)TT: I’ve just been buried in an important project all night. I appreciate the offer of a visit, but I think I need to get this done. GG: Oh that’s quite all right, we can wait until you’re ready. I’m just relieved to hear you’re safe! GG: Are you and AR fighting again? Is that what that was all about? (d)TT: You could say that. GG: Don’t you think this is all a bit silly? He can be a handful I'll grant you that, but likely no worse than you would be in that situation as far as I understand it. (d)TT: I’m dealing with it the best I can, Jane. GG: Well, make sure you take care of yourself while you do! Have you had breakfast yet? (d)TT: ...no. GG: Dinner, at least? (d)TT: Despite the fact that I don’t necessarily need to eat, I assure you I have eaten something substantial in the last 24 hours. GG: That’s only because I nagged you into doing it yesterday! Honestly, Dirk, you might not need to, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t! It’s the principle of the matter! Taking care of yourself is as much a mind-set as it is a series of actions, and it’s something you have a history of slacking about, mister!

Too tired and sick to argue back, you promise you’ll look for something, and pack yourself away from the computer to do so, allowing your Pesterchum status to revert to idle. It’s a brief diversion, you don’t have much aside from some cookies that probably went stale since you got them the last time you visited Jane a month ago, and the remnants of your preserved food stash that you’ve barely touched since the body you inhabit isn’t necessarily organic after you sacrificed your original human meatsuit on the altar of fucking time-travel in order to save your friends. Being a dreamself has some perks and being able to ignore a lot of the usual maintenance is one of the more convenient ones.

You crack open a can of black beans and let yourself indulge in a sulk, folding yourself into the corner where the two walls meet on your bed. Except you can’t properly get your sulk on because your eyes keep getting drawn to your desktop, and the workstation you have set up beside it.

This state of affairs lasts maybe five minutes before you fuck off to the roof because you can’t stand looking at it. Being in the same room and doing nothing while your work taunts you. The fucked up green and red sky and swirling clouds with its constant, distant lightning storms dancing between the shadows of ruined buildings was preferable to this.

In half an hour your government assigned break is over--you dutifully report in with Miss Crocker that you have, indeed, consumed something, even if you don’t tell her that you had thrown half of it away because you just feel like your vestigial and unnecessary stomach is doing acrobatic kickflips off all kinds of handles--and you put that damn nose back to the grind-stone. You'll be a sphinx by the time you're done with this.

Roxy, predictably, is the next one to interrupt you. Not that she ever really stopped interrupting you. You’re running on almost 36 hours since you started this damn project--you can’t just alchemize a new set because you can’t be certain the ‘ideal’ mind-reading shades would match dot for dot the specialized infrastructure you need--by the time you finally allow yourself to scroll through her messages. At least she seemed to have talked to Jane, so she doesn’t think you are dead dead, just sulking over Jake and maybe some tiff with AR. You shoot her a reassurance that you’re just elbows deep in shit--you don’t want to put someone else in the situation you’ve been in--even if you don’t really have the spoons to talk to anyone right now. You don’t peek into the second window, one with many more notifications. Those aren’t addressed to you.

She doesn’t ask you why AR isn’t responding to her. She’s always been thoughtful about that. Keeping you two seperate despite the fact that you both use the same handle. It makes it easier this time. You don’t have to lie. You don't want to tell her the truth.

You glance between the archived conversation saved on your Pesterchum, and the half-finished casing lying beside you, and you know in the cold cockles of your heart, you don’t want to have to tell her he’s dead.

Three days. It takes you that much of almost non-stop working before you have a potentially viable product.

You don’t talk to Jake. You don’t even send him a single message during that time.

You don’t know if you should be hurt or resigned to the fact that he was the only one of your--admittedly limited sample size--friends who didn’t bother to check in with you at all.

The shades lay folded on the desk in front of you, looking nothing so much as brand spanking new. New display pane. New receptors built into the temple-tips.You tested that shit before you’d installed the final piece and sealed it up. These puppies pick up your brain easier than the old set ever had, mere microseconds of input lag. You’ve learned a lot of shit since you’d started three and a half years ago; especially about optimizing and refining your alchemizations of each individual components. Almost nothing about the interior workings and design infrastructure actually resemble your original pair, aside from the crushed casing housing the memory chip, and you’d done the best that you could to shore up the connections, which remained in remarkably good shape, shiny and gold and almost like new. Shimmering in the light as you looked it over that one last time.

It’s buried in the guts of this new set now. You’ll have to disassemble shit if this doesn’t work.

You’ll have bigger problems than that if it doesn’t work.

All that’s left is to drag him out.

The neural receptors settle against your skin as you place the shades on your nose, and suck in a deep, deliberately steady breath. Your gambit is perhaps a cruel one, but it should get him to respond. You flick the proverbial switch, feeling the metal warm and hum against your face as the opaque displays go transparent, the boot menu appearing and scrolling through the initial load processes. You only release that captured lungful of air when it ends, successfully, flickering into your default display set up, which is great, because it meant it managed to read the saved preference files on that miniaturized drive. No window pops open to greet you however, to jeer at you for taking your sweet ass time and boast about how he could’ve had it done in half.

You close your eyes and think pointedly. If he’s there…You remember the first command you used to activate him, all those years ago.

Tell me about the Auto-Responder.

A crackle of energy rushes through you, and for the briefest of moments you worry you didn’t seal and insulate the casing properly. That something had gone wrong.

But only for a moment, because after that you don’t worry about anything anymore.