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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years ago

Text

Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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ktheist · 4 years ago

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girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses. Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

#bts smut #jimin smut #bts fics #jimin fic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts x you #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jimin fics #bts fic #bts fanfics #jimin fanfics #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios

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nagisa-shiota-worthy-shit · 3 years ago

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Tinder Matches

Karmagisa Week 2021, day 1 prompt: Matching wordcount: 1600

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The fact that Nagisa had a tinder account wasn’t something he really shared with anyone. At the time, he’d created it as a joke, a way of amusing his friend’s stupid suggestion. According to Kayano, it truly could be the solution to his lack of experience in the love life department. Nagisa hadn’t been too sure about that. He was more than aware of the application’s status and, no, he wasn’t really interested in finding people to just have sex with.

Yet, somehow, he still found himself swiping through people on the app one night. He was alone in his room, a little bored, and perhaps even a little too tired after a day’s worth of teaching. None of the people he came across really interested him much, although he had to admit that he’d probably give them a shot if he saw them in real life, just because he wanted to believe in the best in people.

This app, however, gave little to no information on someone’s personality. Then again, some people were very clear about looking for someone rich to provide for them, which Nagisa guessed his teacher’s salary wasn’t exactly right for, and he supposed that also said something about their personality and what they were like in a relationship. Nothing Nagisa really wished to deal with.

After swiping left on complete strangers in fear of one secretly being a stalker, murderer, or just having horrible table manners, he suddenly stopped when a familiar face popped up on his screen. the red hair, the golden eyes, that all too familiar smirk. Nagisa recognized exactly who he was seeing, yet somehow couldn't exactly process the idea. it just didn't seem entirely right.

Someone like Karma wouldn't need to use tinder, right?

He found himself staring at the title picture for a while before he realized he could scroll through and see more. it wasn't like he didn't know what karma looked like... but... he sure was curious about what karma was putting out there.

It didn't appear to be all that special at first. A selfie in a casual outfit, a picture of him at a bar with people Nagisa didn't recognize, a traveling picture, but the last picture was something else. This picture appeared professionally taken, or at the very least it wasn't a selfie and the picture was set up. Karma was posing in it, after all. Posing in a suit, the jacket in his hand, thrown over his shoulder as he glanced at the camera with those devilish eyes. Nagisa was nothing but taken back by it.

He shouldn't be staring, should he? This was his close friend and fellow assassin graduate, the staring was just weird. Yet, somehow, he couldn't look away from the picture and thought back to when he’d first met Karma, so many years ago now. He’d felt the same sense of awe back then. Karma was just so perfect, how couldn’t he. This picture, him as an adult looking like a literal model, was like a visual representation of everything Nagisa used to feel Karma was.

The sudden noise of the train passing near his apartment woke him up from his state. suddenly turning very red, he frantically moved his hands and went to swipe left, except his phone nearly fell out of his hands in the process. He caught it, hands all over the screen and, through his own fingers, he could see Karma being swiped right.

no. no nonono. please go back

Nagisa fumbled with his phone, hoping to undo his actions, but before he could do anything, a message popped up on the screen. He was surprised by it to say the least.

‘you've got a match’

A match. He matched. but that meant... Karma had swiped right on him as well?! why would he- probably as a joke. he probably came across nagisa and thought it was funny, right? Nagisa had to assume that was the truth, although deep in his mind a thought echoed around saying the exact opposite. Maybe he wanted it to not be a joke.

After panicking for a hot minute, his phone made a ping sound, indicating he’d gotten a message. He was too scared to look. Somehow, before even opening the message, he could already sense who it was from. Sure enough, once he finally did gather the courage to check the notification, his fears were proven right. This was the worst situation.

Karma: well well well, didnt take you as the tinder type

He considered ignoring it. What was that called again? Ghosting? Yes, he could ghost Karma. If he didn’t respond to the message, perhaps nothing else unfavourable would be happening. Well, Karma would probably mention it to him the next time they spoke in real life. That would probably be even worse. It wasn’t like he could ignore Karma for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like he wanted to.

Nagisa: i'm not

Karma: yet here you are.

Karma: swiping right on me ;)

The cockiness almost oozed out of the message. Nagisa was left frowning at his phone. The main thought going through his mind was that Karma was probably enjoying this. He was a sadist like that. He was having fun while Nagisa wanted to bury himself as deep underground as possible.

Nagisa: you swiped right first!

Nagisa: mine was an accident

Nagisa: I was surprised to see you on here and my phone dropped

Karma: ah, so you wouldn't swipe right on me :( am I too ugly?

Nagisa felt his face grow hot. He probably shouldn't look at his reflection if he wanted to save himself from the image of his head being a tomato. He didn't think karma was ugly. quite the opposite, actually. Not that he could say that. That would be weird. So, he tried to find some middle ground answer, not calling karma ugly or the opposite of that.

Nagisa: I never said that, I just didn't intend to swipe right on someone i'm already friends with.

There, no way that could be taken wrong. He considered sending an additional message, clarifying just how dropping his phone led to the swiping right, but decided against it. It would sound just a little too defensive.

Karma: well,its nice this gives us a chance to talk again anyways. appears youve been too busy to answrr my texts.

An awkward laugh escaped Nagisa as he looked away from his phone, forgetting Karma couldn't actually see his reaction. There was no reason to avoid eye contact when there was no eye contact to begin with. Still, he shared the sentiment. He kind of had forgotten to keep contact with people lately.

He blamed the new workplace. After finishing his days as a trainee, the new school he worked at was surprisingly more demanding. He always knew being a full time teacher was a lot of work, especially now that there was no one to keep an eye on him and remind him of certain teaching specifics of the school he taught at. Of course, the work was rewarding enough for him to barely think about his loss of contacts. He had a habit of treating those too loosely anyways.

Nagisa: ive just been working

Karma: workaholic

Nagisa: you literally have more work hours than me

Karma: and somehow you still spend as much time working as me.

The conversation went on like that for a bit, them going back and forth at each other. Overall, it wasn't a bad time. Nagisa kind of forgot about the actual use of the app, and the fact that he could just DM Karma on line whenever he wanted to, until Karma managed to bring back the conversation to it.

Karma: you know, usually when people match, they try to meet up for a date

Of course Nagisa was aware that that's what the app was for, it was sort of the reason he’d gotten it as well. However, he didn't think anything would lead anywhere for him, let alone with karma. surely karma wasn't being serious. it would be weird to go on a date with your friend.

and still, Nagisa endulged him, being so stupid as to ask further.

Nagisa: where do people even go on tinder dates?

Karma: anywhere they want to, usually just for drinks, easy way to lead them home a little tipsy afterwards

Nagisa: okay that sounds creepy

Karma: if that's not your style I could always take you out for dinner.

Karma: There's this new sushi restaurant near my place, looks like something you'd love.

somehow, he actually considered it. On any other day, that would sound insane to nagisa. Since when would he consider dating karma? Wait, not dating, going on a date with Karma. There was a difference. Sushi did sound great, and so did Karma's company. He supposed he hadn't really been out like that in a while. date or not.

Karma: i can even pick you up, very romantic

The word hit Nagisa a little hard. Romantic. What would that entail? Would they sit opposite of each other, send cute glances, maybe even hold hands beside the table? He wanted his mind to hate the idea of that, doing those things with his friend, ruining the relationship they already had. But, he also wanted to give in, say yes, and see where things would lead. At the very least, he'd have a fun night with good food.

Nagisa: you have a day in mind?

Karma: how's Saturday?

Nagisa: Saturday's fine

Karma: it's a date!

#KarmagisaWeek21 #Karma Akabane #Nagisa Shiota #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #KaruNagi #karmagisa #fanfiction #fanfic #shipweek #anime #manga

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anonil88 · 4 years ago

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Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

#Malcolm & Marie #malcolm and marie #zendaya coleman #zendaya #john david washington #liveblog #mine

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urlocalnctstan · 4 years ago

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𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚄𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 - 𝙹.𝚂𝙶

• Candy Hearts Collab - @127-mile

Prompt : “I came to say goodbye.”

Genre : Angst, Fluff, kinda Slow-burnish?, Slice of life, highschool + college AU

Pairing : Sungchan X Reader (Ft. Jeno)

Warning(s) : mentions of bullying and injury (like one scene only), unrequited love, mentions of slight anxiety, hormonal shifts, language, minor character death

Writing nets : @kdiarynet @k-dinernet @kpopscape @czennienet @neoturtles

Taglist : @eh-ovo-nctu

WC : 9.7k

Summary : What people hated the most is the very word ‘goodbye’. However, it’s the very word that becomes something that you yearn to hear from Sungchan for years.

→ Playlist [recommended]

The sound of the rain was supposed to calm you down, not make you even more anxious and sweaty and you sat with your legs firmly pressed against each other, hoping to fill in the lack of company you were feeling amongst the swarm of people who perhaps shared the same dreams, same aim as yours. Public places as trains, trams, bus stops; you always thought they portrayed as the perfect definition for the word ‘sonder.’ Each individual having a life pretty much as complex as yours — sometimes a little less or sometimes a little more. It fascinated you.

“Do you think the trip is worth it?” Lee Jeno, your best friend of quite a few years puffs his cheeks as he stared dubiously at the red and white poster he held. You took a peek at it, the amount of times Jeno had been pestering you if he should really give up the money he had saved for PS5 as a sacrifice for this trip, it was safe enough for you to say that you had every words printed on it memorized. Well, maybe not every words but the main stuff at least.

“Lee Jeno,” You sharply gawked at the male sitting beside you, earning an ugly grimace from him. “Stop it already. I don’t know about you but I ain’t passing this chance.”

“Wah, what a nice friend I got.” You failed to notice the dramatic eye roll he makes before shoving the poster in his backpack, the one he had been using since the first day you had befriended him. Was it 5 years? 6 years?

“Are we five years or six years?” But I met him on that bookstore down my neighborhood, that was like spring of 2017 and now it’s 2021.

The male let out a snort. “If I am a five year-old then you are definitely still inside the womb.” Even though he was smiling with that ‘innocent eye smile’ the evil smirk sheathed beneath went unnoticed by you. No sooner had he opened his mouth, a fresh harsh smack landed on his arms that were clad in a filmsy material of cotton and thus a silent yelp of pain escaping from him as he grabbed the area which was starting to sting with each passing second. The smack, albeit meant for him, you were unable to ignore the similar stinging pain in your palm, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. But you made sure to show absolutely no signs of distress; it was somewhat a matter of childish pride for you.

“Change your career aim from a perfumist to an assassinator will you?” If it were the campus grounds, you two would have already been latched at one another throats; both metaphorically and literally.

“I will gladly not.” You huffed at the male whose eyes held a scornful gaze, now even more annoyed or perhaps, as you would think most of the times, he was just exaggerating. You found yourself mindlessly scrolling through your gallery in search of the recent notes from Mr. Kim’s classes. Until you stumble across something you had been long avoiding, a forlorn fragment from the former days of your high school.

“Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N.”

It was a picture of you smiling way too bright, cheeks and nose flushed red while being squished by the only male in the frame as he pressed a peck against your cheek. His neck was craned to the side, ripe ears clearly visible in the small Polaroid film. As much as you hated to admit, your heart would still make flips and turns whenever you run into something that reminded you of him, your very first love and first heart break—Jung Sungchan.

Jeno was too busy in his dreamland as he dozed off with his head resting peacefully against your shoulder. It was no new news that the lad had been immensely in love with you ever since the first time you saved him from getting bullied back in 9th grade. However, you were always too busy with your academics and extra-curricular activities and thus clearly drawing a line of only being friends. Nothing else. It happened when Jeno had finally mustered up the courage after excelling in his Maths Olympiad, where he made a bet that if he indeed secures a place in the top 5, you have to abide by anything he wishes for. But he wished for your love, something you were not really capable of doing so; especially at that time. You did not have the heart to say no when Jeno jogged up to you, his eyes transforming into crescents as he smiled wide. “I did it!” His words came out rather breathy, possibly because of him running to you, and maybe because how hard he could feel his heart thump against his ribs when he noticed the proud grin on your face. Without wasting any moment further, Jeno lets go of the white banner of achievement he had been holding, his hands now focusing on yours. You could almost feel the slight tremble and the wetness of his sweaty palms, but before you could even say anything he beat to you by saying, “Go out on a date with me. Only one.”

There were numerous times when you felt guilty about turning down Jeno. At times it had you baffled that why a guy like him would ever bother liking you so much. Jeno was incredibly talented; gifted with unfair boon of genius traits in both academics and athletics. His little version of him always demeaned his abilities, often failing to notice that how much more he was rather than just a quiet kid who loved coding and maths. Maybe perhaps that was the very reason for him to face the bullying, at least that’s what you thought when you first noticed him getting cornered by some stupid idiot dipshits from your class during recess. Jeno’s ID card lay discarded on the ground, as Kihyun grabbed its owner by the collar. You could not understand his reason for not fighting back, and thus being a silent spectator was never your thing so you decided to butt in. As much as you equally hated and liked one thing, boys seemed to get kinda wary of your presence. Especially boys like these who were already in the blacklist of the teachers. It did not take them long to pick their asses and run from the site when you glared them with a threatening gaze, a single word from the class president and they would get suspended yet again for the umpteenth time in the year. You crouched down to Jeno’s level, carefully handing him his ID. You did not bother asking him if he was okay, of course he wasn’t. His face showed signs of previous injuries, the purple hues of bruises slightly fading beside his jaws. You still don’t know why but you felt the need to protect him from his solace, thus leading to this inseparable bond of yours.

But that was a version of him that was long forgotten. Jeno had become the star and face of the school in the last years of your highschool. Acing various quiz competitions, Olympiads, getting highest grades, being the captain of the soccer and basketball team; you were sure God really had His favorites.

You were not surprised when Jeno brought you to your usual favourite—candle shop. It was a hidden gem in your hometown, a small secluded shop located just a few miles away from the metropolitan. Not everyone was aware of its existence until that one day you decided to act rebellious for once in your school life. Of course dragging Jeno into this so called rebel act with you. The date was rather casual, just two friends messing around with wax and chemically named perfume essences. The shop was owned by a lady close to your grandma’s age, and it still makes you wonder how on earth was she able to keep up with the hollering you two were making. No matter how much you convinced yourself that maybe you could give the boy a chance, and perhaps feelings might grow on you later on; you could not make yourself cloud your rationality with the uncertain possibilities. You confessed every single thing that had been on your mind and Jeno just calmly listened to everything you uttered. You could clearly see the expression of hurt washing over his face, but he knew you. He knew that once you had made up your mind, there was no going back. The night did not cause any indifference in your friendship; it bloomed with each passing years of your middle school and then highschool. You two had become the infamous bestfriends, the once timid boy then all buff and handsome and the once spotlight lover girl then buried in her textbooks to pass the college entrance exams.

Throughout these years of teen, the candle shop had become a constant place for anything to you both; sadness, comfort or just enjoyable times. Until that one day when you met the grandson of the lady who owned the shop. Make a guess who it was.

When people spoke of their first heartbreak, you always cringed at how they exaggerated. Technically you never experienced one, so it seemed ridiculous to you that how was it possible to a simple break to cause others this much pain. You were shocked, no scratch that. Using fancy words, you were utterly bewildered when you saw the new transfer student—Jung Sungchan was the name, standing on the makeshift podium of your classroom. Thank God the architects decided to stick to keeping the height of the room above eight feet. You had changed drastically, contrasting your previous bubbly persona, you had become more reserved. It was just you being ambitious about something you had grown to like, and after some backstabs from your friends, you did not feel the need to have so many around you. Just Jeno being there for you was more than enough.

It would be a lie if Jeno did not sense the subtle looks you had been sending over to the new guy, but he was in no place to object you. It had only been a few moments of Sungchan’s arrival and Jeno already sensed his position in your life being threatened. He knew you were a saint who always looked out for others, and something about his presence made Jeno feel wary. Jeno did not need any of the privileges he had, all of it he owed to you after all. It was you who brought the best out of him, and in the end if he has them all but not you, it wasn’t clearly worth it to him. You preferred unpredictable things; it was what he learned about you in all your years of friendship. How you would always choose mystery thrillers over typical rom-coms, how you would always vouch for the new dish in the menu every time you both visited the local barbecue house. And he knew it was impossible to be one like that, it was just typical Taurus things (as he would like to blame) that made him too practical, too predictable for you. But, you never thought like that. It was just that even though you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself grow romantic towards the boy you always shared your oreos and ramen with. He held a dear place in your heart and life.

Sungchan was immediately welcomed to the family, the girls already swooning over his good looks and amazing grades. Plus icing on the top, he was the half-brother of the infamous Jung Yoonoh, the heartthrob of the whole school, from juniors to seniors. While Jaehyun was the typical definition of being that one dude we always see in rom-coms who is loved and admired by all for his too humble personality and ethics, Sungchan on the other hand was more of a quiet one, often too shy properly open up his orginal self around new environment. Despite that, he was naturally amiable just like his brother, a trait that perhaps ran in the Jung household. Unlike Jaehyun who was presumably born with good brains, Sungchan was a hardworking one. Sungchan tried to settle down the queasy feeling he had been feeling ever since he moved back here, now that Jaehyun was always busy in Seoul with his medical degree someone had to look after their aging grandma. Sungchan was never really a part of any group, so leaving behind his school back in the city was not that painful for him. The atmosphere of the whole campus was pretty soothing; the bushes of neatly trimmed trees, big huge playground and the ochre shaded building. He liked all of it, and to top it all the uniform was really his style: solid crème and dark maroon combination.

When Sungchan stood awkwardly in the middle of the classroom, clearly clueless as to where he would be seating since all the seats were occupied, a soft voice called out his name rather eagerly. His eyes scanned for a while until he saw you; dark hair tied up neatly into a ponytail with a pencil in your hand as you waved him to notice the empty seat beside yours. Sungchan smiled at your sweet gesture, his out of place feeling now subsiding into the warmth of the possible blooming friendship.

“Hi there, I am Y/N.” You chirped, wiping your left hand before bringing it out for him to shake. Sungchan froze for a while before he realized what he was supposed to be doing. “Oh! And this is Jeno!” You turned slightly towards your best friend sitting just behind you with his famous eye smile.

“Hello, I am Jung Sungchan.” He returned the gesture shaking both your and Jeno’s hand. Whilst Jeno had the feeling of roughness and athleticism in his, your hands were warm and soft; it felt nice he thought. That was the first impression of yours to him: ball of sunshine. And your impression of him? Reserved and unpredictable; a combination that only meant chaos and imbalance.

Sungchan side-glanced at your fumbling state. Seating next to him you in the front row, you skimmed over your not so pleasant looking notes that you had scribbled anxiously in the prior night. Public speaking had never been a big deal for you once you get adjusted to the audience after going up on stage. However, it is the pre anxiety session that just always riles you up.

“You know,” Your head whipped a bit too fast to your liking at the voice belonging to the only male that sat beside you. “I’ll show you a trick. Here.” Sungchan proceeded to softly place your trembling hands on his, cautiousness apparent with every move he made. Even though you both had been seatmates for the last three months, you never found yourself involved in any sort of skinship with him; something that was really common for you and Jeno. The look of fluster was way too obvious when Sungchan softly rubbed various shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, you were unsure if he was actually helping you ease from nervousness or just increasing it further. It had quite been a while since you had your hands caged in his, both of you completely unaware of the looks you had been getting from your senior teachers seated in the neighboring row. The moment was cut off when your name was announced from the stage by a senior, requesting your presence to commence your speech. Sungchan slowly lets go of your hands, mumbling a soft ‘best of luck!’ with his hands now fisted as an act of verbal encouragement. You eyes wandered around the crowd for a while before locating your best friend who sat miserably beside the homeroom teacher, really closing to dozing off before noticing your presence and copying Sungchan’s gestures.

The bus paused, Jeno still deep in his slumber despite the harsh jerk of the vehicle stopping in its tracks. You sighed, he must have probably been gaming the whole night with his roommate Donghyuck again. You nudged softly at first, the lack of response later than causing you to shake him vigorously by his toned arms that barely fit in your palms. Jeno instantly sprinted up with wide eyes before softly muttering a curse at your cruel way of waking him up.

“I was definitely right about you being a torturer in your previous life.”

“Sure you were. Get your ass off the bus now.”

You parted your ways with Jeno on the campus ground, him heading to his coding facult while you headed towards the chemistry club room. Apparently a newbie was supposed to come today from the US. It was odd you assumed since US had much better facilities for students majoring in chemistry. You glanced at your figure on your way to the room, wondering if the ripped jeans were a good choice as a first impression. You just disliked the idea of leaving off bad impressions, even if you are never going to meet the person again until your next life. Jaemin, another close friend of both you and Jeno smiled widely at your entrance, waving his hand as he pointed the seat next to him enthusiastically. Jaemin and you were basically clones of each other, the leos inside of you both shinig at its best whenever you two are together.

“I don’t understand why move back here from THE United States.” Jaemin dragged out the word, scoffing silently as he handed you a cup of iced Americano. You were about to sip before pausing. You could not have possibly risked your stomach again after that one fateful day when you tasted ‘his type’ of iced Americano. This dude legit gulped down eight espresso shots with a satisfied hum, horrified looks painted on your and Jeno’s features as you both just stared at him in utter shock.

“Please not the poisonous drink.” You eyed the male suspiciously, who scoffed at the nickname.

“Of couse not little baby.” Jaemin cooed with his lips puckered and an annoying high pitched voice, purposefully pinching your cheeks a bit harder than he usually does.

“You little moth-”

“Hello guys, I am Sungchan. Nice to meet you all.” Your heart dropped at the familiar tone of voice. He isn’t possibly back again after leaving without any traces, without a single goodbye, is he? You did not dare to look at his figure standing in front of the table, awkwardly shifting in your seat while Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Sungchan.” Sulli, your senior by 2 years and also the president of the club greeted him warmly. “I hope you like it here because adjusting to a new place might be hard at times. Oh, these are your classmates; Y/N and Jaemin.”

Sungchan immediately looked in your direction at the mention of your name, his eyes equally wide in surprise mirroring your previous reaction.

“Y/N?” He called out in a rather unsure tone, just like his movements the cautiousness was also present there. “It’s been……a while….”

“Yeah, indeed.” You had a visible change in demeanor, Jaemin finally grasping the tense situation before jogging up to the male.

“Hi there, I am Na Jaemin. You can call me Nana if you want.” Jaemin put his hand out as a formality, to which Sungchan politely complied. “There’s a seat there you can sit.” Jaemin was luckily wise enough to occupy the empty seat beside yours without knowing the turn of events. He motioned Sungchan towards the seat diagonal to you, sensing the discomfort in your posture he assumed it was best if Sungchan sat somewhat further.

Concentrating on the yearly planning for the club was harder with his presence; Sungchan unable to hide his obvious lingering gaze on you. Jaemin would cough every now and then, signaling the male to focus on the club president’s instructions instead of you. But as his usual self, Sungchan pretended to not notice the clear hints, continuing keep his eyes locked on yours. You were barely able to note down some important events, knowing that Jaemin certainly cannot be trusted with his short time memory. After that president bids her farewell to everyone present in the room, you take it as your cue to just flee as soon as possible from his reach.

“Y/N, wait!” Sungchan was quick to grab you just as you were about to exit by the door, the sudden halt in movement causing you to stumble back into his embrace awkwardly. You were definitely embarrassed, your back pressed against his chest in a weird manner as you straighten yourself again. You scrunched you nose to hide your embarrassment before asking him.

“What is it now Jung Sungchan?” You were not meaning to snap at him, but the bitter memories of the past seemed to get the best of you.

Sungchan slightly winced at your cold tone, but what else could have expected after all the pain he had caused you. “I…I do..I mean like I..”

“Sungchan, I have my classes. Gather up your thoughts and then talk.” With that you turned on your heels, not even bothering to take your bag that you left on the seat you were prior sitting. Jaemin observed the scene quietly, his minds finally connecting the dots. Jung Sungchan, the boy you would always cry about whenever you got drunk, the boy who left you with nothing but memories of him. Jaemin thought it was best to not let out his inner frustration towards the guy who was now standing motionless in his tracks, lost in his trance as he gaped towards the door you had just left. Jaemin passed by Sungchan without a word, instinctively grabbing your bag as he made his way to his next class.

Sungchan stood dumbfounded, numerous thoughts racing in his mind. Why did I have to be so foolish? He thought. How can I blame her when I was the one who broke the promise first?

Summer 2017

It was getting pretty boring for you at the library; usually some of the classmates bickering would give you some sort of silent company as you scribble down the notes. But for some unfound reason you seemed to be extremely distracted. You let out a long annoyed huffed, hands stretching in weird directions as you rested your head on the wooden table. It struck your mind there might be butts of nails pointed out and you didn’t want to get yourself a shot of tetanus, so you lazily glided your hands across the surface before returning back to your half laying position. It didn’t take long for you to zone out, mind running through various scenarios of university life, jobs and perhaps marriage? You blushed at the thought, just like any other teen you were also low-key always looking forward to your wedding.

“Are you asleep?” You shot up startled at the sudden voice, eyes immediately widening as you realized the owner. Sungchan had a smile with his lips pressed into a thin line, casually pulling out the empty seat beside yours as he made himself comfortable on it.

“Good to know you’re not. I need your help.” Sungchan wasted no time rummaging out a stack of sheets from his backpack, pressing them against the wood with a loud thump. You slightly winced at the loudness since the library was extra quiet today, the sound thus bouncing off more.

“You know if it’s literature, I suck at it.” Your mind took you back at that one time when you almost got yourself a C on the mentioned subject, chills running down at the memory.

“No, no.” Sungchan waved his hands softly chuckling. “It’s actually chemistry. Judging as a seatmate, I believe it’s your best sport.”

You happily nodded at the male, pleased that you get to help him with something that was under your specialty. Sungchan took a notice of your happy state, equally pleased that it was you that would be helping him.

“Tell me, what can I help you with.” You took the fat book from his hold, skimming over the contents page before highlighting the topics that were extremely important for the semester.

“I think hybridization? I just can’t seem to get how it works!” Sungchan’s voice levitated suddenly out of frustration, momentarily catching you off guard. Sungchan seemed to notice your amused look, shyly rubbing the nape of his neck with a little shrug.

“You know this is the first time I’ve seen you frustrated.” You commented, eyes fixated on the pages even though they were being extremely reluctant to rather focus on the fussy male. “It’s pretty easy you know. Look.” You explained him cautiously and slowly, how the overlapping of the orbitals occurred not realizing the proximity that seemed to lessen drastically. You whipped at his direction to see any signs of confusion, only to be met with a pair of dark orbs that stared at you intently. As embarrassing as it may sound, you gulped loudly. A bit too loud than you had intended to.

Sunghcan took notice of the situation you both blanketed in as a wave of déjà vu washed over him. He cleared his throat loud and awkward, half to lessen the embarrassment you were feeling and to poorly hide his own. You both were looking everywhere but each other, too dumb to maximize the close distance instead of acting like awkward cats.

“What are you both doing?” a deep male voice jerked you back to reality, upon turning you saw it belonged to Jeno. When did he come here?

“She was explaining the hybridization shits.” Sungchan huffed, slowly settling back to his orginal position. “I asked you so many times though…”

“You know chemistry is not my cup of tea.” Jeno shrugged at the male, a lazy smile playing on his face. “You wanna stay for b-ball practice today?”

“Not sure, I’ll see to it mate.” Sungchan did that fist-bump with Jeno, the two casually mingling like old friends as you stared idiotically at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Since when did you both become Damon and Pythias?”

“Y/N, please not again your alien languages.” Jeno rolled his eyes before taking the seat beside, sandwiching you between both the males. “Since you happen to be tutoring a clown, an addition of another clown won’t do you any harm.” Jeno smiled at you, his doe eyes disappearing in the process.

Sungchan held back his snort, looking over both of you, he was happy. Though he was not as close to you as he had become to Jeno, he still considered you somewhat a close friend of his. Being seatmates with you and Jeno, it was inevitable that he soon became a constant in your life. Did I tell you that the candle shop was owned by his grandma? The shop if anything, had become this secret spot for you three. Study dates, random chills or just lazying around, the candle shop would be the first name that would pop up in your mind.

With a blink of an eye perhaps junior year passes. Maybe that was how last years of highschool were. At one moment you barely just got promoted to a new class, and at another, you’re yet again getting promoted to higher one. You sat under the dull moonlight, a thin cardigan that was gifted to you by your dearest friend’s grandma. When Sungchan invited you and Jeno at his, his grandma had knitted this cardigan for you and a beanie for Jeno. The gesture was so sweet that it completely melted your heart, she was the living definition of wholesome for you.

It was maybe that one day when you three decided to stroll the spring fair of your neighborhood, when you both finally came clean to your feelings. Jeno was always the one pointing you out that how you should just be a woman and confess. “It doesn’t always have to be the guy that says I LIKE YOU!” This what we he said before disappearing into the hives of crowds, leaving you waiting for Sungchan at the front of the public toilet he was finishing his business in. Pretty awkward right? Where else does anyone get to see a girl waiting for her crush in front of a public restroom. Sungchan came back outside, shuffling out his handphone before furrowing his brows at the text he just received. You immediately understood it was from Jeno. You had no idea what came over you, it felt like the adrenaline in your system decided to flood your nervous system, not even aware of yourself just launching at the dude with a chaste kiss on his lips. He was completely taken aback by the sudden feeling of your lips on his, it took him a while before responding you back with the same enthusiasm. You broke first from the kiss, not realising your fists crunching his prior perfectly ironed shirt. But he did not mind it all, a shy smile playing on both of your faces. The rest of the night was spent with your hands laced in his, just like another high school sweethearts of the time.

You smiled at the memory. Sungchan had a cigarette lit between the tips of his fingers, the tobacco smoke slowly poking your nose but not strong enough to bother you. With a deep sigh, he took a puff before blowing it own again in the air, a cloud of smog dancing around his figure.

“You should quit it, it’s not healthy.” It had already been a year since you became friends and six months since you became more than it, but there were times like this when you still found yourself nervous and wary whenever you are talking to him. You snuggled yourself into the cardigan, hugging yourself to minimize the tinges of frostbites. Sungchan was considerate of your discomfort, whenever he smoked, he made sure the cigarette was at least 2 feet away from you.

“Take this.” Sungchan handed you another thick layer of clothing from his bag, his initials “J.SG” written big and bold. Without much thought, you accepted his kindness, and Sungchan had high tolerance to cold anyways unlike you who would shiver to death in the most usual temperatures. You figured Sungchan decided to dodge the topic you brought it, and you figured it would be better to not bring it up for a while.

“Where do you plan on going for college.” Sungchan spoke while rubbing the shortened cigarette on the bricks of the roof, swallowing the remaining water from his bottle throwing a strawberry gum inside his mouth. You figured he was now free from the reek of tobacco as you scoot closer to his form, opening your arms within the jacket for his to snuggle in as well. Just like Jeno, skinship was no new news for you both too, however; it always had your heart racing like crazy. You both remained cozy under the warm embrace of the jacket, and you prayed Sungchan would never listen how your pulse was acting up.

“I don’t know. Perhaps SNU? I mean only if I get accepted...” You trailed off, propping your chin against your bent knees before glancing at the boy. Then it struck you, what made him ask this sudden question, what made him smoke three cigarettes straight despite having yearly break for a whole month. “Will you be going to the US as well?”

“I don’t know...” Sungchan deeply sighed, his lips forming a small pout as he indulged in deep thought. What if he actually happens to leave for America? Your heart clenched at the thought, mimicking his sighs you rested your head against his shoulder.

“You know,” You stared at the sky, it was dark and clear with no signs of stars. The feeling was unsettling. “Wherever you go, we’ll always be there for you.” Your eyes shifted to the illuminating lights from numerous buildings that replaced the absence of the twinkling stars in the sky. The ominous feeling soon dissipated into relief. It was as if the universe telling you, we just have to look out for the good sides instead of dwelling on the bad.

“I know.” Sungchan smiled, one that was both happy and sad. He rested his head on yours, joining your company of gazing at the scenery. “I know.”

“Just...” there was hesitation laced in your tone, Sungchan was quick to notice it as he looked at you, nodding for you to continue. “Please don’t leave...not without a goodbye. Promise me that.”

“I promise you.” Sungchan held your cold hands in his warmer ones, a firm assurance making your heart swell in both hurt and adoration as you kissed him again.

You both never really made it official, despite the kiss at the fair. It was perhaps the uncertainty that held you both back. Sungchan’s future was not in his hands but his family’s; just like his brother, he is supposed to make his family shine bright. It was one of the major reasons why his parents let both the brothers two years of freedom on their remaining bits of high school. ‘All parents want the best for their kids,’ that’s what you would always say to him whenever you meet him at his roof; him smoking while you offered his physical comfort.

The senior year passed within a whim, the fright of entering into adulthood descending upon all the students as they remained buried in their textbooks. Maybe it wasn’t the case for everyone, but it did apply to you and your friends. You remained occupied with you daily extra classes for chemistry while Sungchan had biology and Jeno had mathematics. You three would meet up in periodic breaks, catching up with small talks before returning back to your respective schedules. It was nothing but hectic, and soon, the candle shop returned back to being just another isolated shop in your hometown.

Graduation day was filled with smiles and congratulatory phrases from different individuals, throwing your grad caps in the air felt like as if you were throwing away a significant part of your life, ready to embrace a new version of you. All the parents stood their with proud grins, delighted at their children’s achievement to their dreams.

“Congratulations!” You chirped, receiving bone crushing hugs from both your males before an elderly voice called for you.

“Y/N! Jeno! Sungchan!” It was your mom, waving excitedly to grab you and the males’ attention. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” You all resonated together, happy and delighted.

A series of furious knocks jolted you awake from your sleep. You figured it might have been your younger brother, probably wanting your help in his homework.

“I swear to god Y/b/n!” You let out an ear piercing shout, groggily rubbing your eyes from deep slumber.

“It’s me. Jeno.” You heard how breathy his voice sounded, it was coated with urgency and hurt. You heart dropped but you prayed to the Heavens and God, you prayed that it should not be the very thing that you had been dreading so much. You shot up from your bed, not even bothering to make yourself look presentable before whipping the door open to meet with an equally dazed and riled Jeno.

“It’s Sungchan. He...” Jeno beathed out a deep sigh, before handing you a lilac envelope, the initials J.SG written in bold. You failed to feel the tears pooling up, threatening to fall anytime. Jeno glanced over you sympathetically, with shaky trembling hands, you took the the paper.

You don’t bother to closer the door, Jeno soon taking his leave as he thought it would be best to give you some space to absorb it all in. The tears had started to stream uncontrollably when you saw the picture that came with the letter. It was one of the many pictures that you took on the night of the fair; the day you had confessed, the you had your first kiss. It was a polaroid of you holding him lovingly in an embrace, him shyly placing a kiss on your cheeks with the words ‘Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N’ scribbled on the white frame. Your hands fished for your cellphone, frantically dialing his number as you waited for him to pick up, hoping that he’ll soothe your anxiety by saying he did not leave, that he was still in town and you were just being delusional.

But every time you dialed his contact, you were being forwarded to the monotonous tone saying that the number was currently unreachable. Your chest squeezed in pain, he had promised you. He promised you that he will come for a goodbye at least. He had promised you that he would never leave you clueless and hurting. All you ever asked for him, was just a goodbye; perhaps a source assurance for you to wait for his return.

You wiped the tears with the edge of your sleeves, opening the the piece of folded paper.

‘Dear lovely Y/N,

You might resent me when you receive this letter, and I certainly don’t blame you for that. I am not the best with words, I am clumsy and unexpressive but I hope that this piece of scribblings makes you understand all my feelings, my thoughts and emotions that have been haunting me from the day I first saw you.

You know I that I am very much aware that I do....hold some handsome genes.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at this.

‘However, unlike all, as typical as it may sound, you stood out. You lazily laid sprawling across your desk in deep slumber, completely unaware of the chaos of classroom. I wish I was that carefree like you, indulged in her own world and comfort bubble. It attracted me a lot.’ You got up from the floor, eyes still glued to the piece of paper as you shut your door locked. Your hands still went to dial his contact, but only to be forwarded to that damned robotic voice.

‘I wanted to be like you, not bothered by the constant pressures of coming from a prestigious family. Did I ever tell you my dad is the Director of Myeongsu Hospital?’ You gasped at the sudden information. His dad was the director of the one of the most prestigious and renowned hospitals of South Korea. It was too overwhelming for you to process, but you still found yourself continuing.

‘It was inevitable for me to act like just another teenager, not for me but for my brother too. I always blamed him for being so selfish when he just left me alone when he came to grandma, I failed to realize that it was some sort of comfort gift from our parents so that we’ll devote ourselves to build the family’s name for the rest of our lives.

Even though I wanna blame them, I don’t think I can because they had the same fate. It comes with a price when you’re born with a silver spoon, and I guess I had to pay mine when I left your doorstep last night. I...I was a coward. I know I should have just come up, hug you and kiss you for the last time. But I just couldn’t. I was too scared.

I was scared that the moment I’ll see you, my guards will crash down. These two days were really hectic for me, I made up excuses when you invited me at yours because I was afraid of losing my balance. I knew that only a glance at you would be enough to make me change my mind and revolt against my parents, my fate. And you have no idea how much I wanted to do so, you have no idea how I’ve spent endless of sleepless night where it is the only thing that would run on my mind. But you tell me, would it be really worth it? I did not want you spending the rest of your lives with swarming paps and reporters, publishing reports and articles of how you managed to tarnish the heir-in-line of the prestigious hospital. No I could never do to that someone I love so dearly. I could never in a thousand years do that.

You know every time I picture you in your grown-up self, I can only see a strong and confident woman thriving in her career, a woman that is so powerful but still has a heart of gold. I know that you’ll be an amazing person, inside and out. I wasn’t really planning to express my love and admiration for you like this, I hoped to do it in person, but perhaps, maybe that’s how the stars planned it out for us. Fate is extra cruel in my case don’t you think?

It would be extremely selfish of me to ask you to wait; I am not even sure if I would ever return because my father would be opening another branch in US. And well, I am not sure what plans he has for me.

So please, if you ever find it in your heart, I hope you will forgive me. And even if you don’t, please don’t ever feel guilty about it. You have all the right to do so and I most certainly deserve your hatred. I love you so much, Y/N. You’re my first kiss, my first love, and you’ll always hold this irreplaceable place in my heart.

With Love,

Jung Sungchan.

You felt your world crashing down, a part of you wished that this letter never ended. The only remain from him had also come to an end, and you were not sure how you would be able to cope with his absence for the next years of your life.

Present

“Sungchan is back?” Jeno widened his eyes in shock, the information seemingly unbelievable to him. “He really is?”

“Yes.” You monotonously replied, numerous thoughts battling at the back of your head. Jaemin cleared his throat, a sign for Jeno to not bring up the topic for a while. Jeno eyed the male in confusion before finally getting the hint.

“You’re lucky you don’t get to have Mr.Suh’s classes, he’s just hot and it’s frustrating. And that’s coming from a straight dude like me.” Jeno slurped on his smoothie loud and sound, probably to annoy the other male as he was well aware his distaste to people making sounds while eating.

“Y/N.” a voiced called out from behind, and you instantly knew who it belonged to.

“Sungchan. Oh my god!” Jeno shot up from his seat, immediately embracing the old face from his past. “How have you been man? You just disappeared...”

“I am so sorry.” Sungchan looked at Jeno with pleading eyes. “I know I have absolutely no excuse for my act and I am just so sorry, Jeno and Y/N.” Sungchan looked at Jeno who silently urged him to talk to you.

“Y/N, please talk to me. I don’t expect your forgiveness but please. Atleast curse me, hit me just do anything. Please.”

You whipped your head to find Sungchan crouching down to match your seat level, a sigh escaping from you as you stood straight from your seat.

“Guys, I’ll be back.” You gripped his hands before dragging him alongside the canteen corridor.

Jaemin looked over his friend who stood staring at the way you just took. And expressionless look was painted on his features, causing Jaemin to shake his head and sigh. “You know man,” Jeno changed his attention to the male speaking, fixing his glasses. “If I were you, I would have just held her back. You’re extremely strong, I could have never done that.” With that Jaemin patted his friend’s back, a silent assurance that if he needed a shoulder to cry or to simply lean on for comfort, he’ll be there for him.

A mixture of feelings were erupting inside you, you were furious but happy. Sad but grateful. You scanned the halls for signs of any empty classroom and upon finding one you just shoved the male inside it.

“What’s so funny about messing with my feelings?” You already tears welling up, your vision blurry as you sharply glance at the male with a frown on his face.

“Y/N, I would nev-”

“You left me,” you utterly hated at how pathetic you sounded at the moment, harshly wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised me that you won’t leave without showing up one last time, but you did. You fucking did.” You knew it was not something under his control, but you couldn’t help but pour your bottled feelings.

“Please...Y/N...listen..to me...Please..” Sungchan lost his composure, his voice breaking as he stepped closer to you. Seeing how you did not flinch at his approach, Sungchan captivated you in his embrace, something that he had been yearning for ever since he parted ways. You felt the wetness of his tears on your head, melting in his longing embrace you found yourself hugging him back. You missed him so much, his scent, warmth, presence. Everything about him drove you crazy, you were still dazed to believe if he was actually back for real or is it just one of your numerous daydreams.

The rest of the days went as usual, but only with the addition of Sungchan back again in your life. Although you had long forgiven him in his heart, you decided to not vocal it out. As heartless as it may sound, you wanted him to make up for the pain he caused you, and he indeed did. Jaemin was skeptical in the beginning at the idea of another person joining you small group, he had come to liking the idea of you guys as trio and was more comfortable like that. But he saw how your eyes lit up every time you about him when you were newly friends with Jaemin, how Jeno would always drunk talk about the times they passed as seatmates bothering the hell out of you. So Jaemin broke his exterior cold composure on the fourth day, finally accepting the banana milk from the new male as a form of bribe for his addition to the group.

Sungchan worked harder than deities; always making sure to get you Americanos before your classes, taking extra notes for you whenever you felt sick, tolerating your extremely drunk self and even dropping you back at your dorms safely. He had mentioned how he finally mustered up the courage to stand up against his fathers, that he wanted to do something else rather than working in the medical field. Even though he had still yet to decided his desired career, Sungchan decided to just follow his intuitions which ended up him taking chemistry as his major and thus landing in the same institution and same class as yours. And not to mention, he was beyond grateful for it.

A month had passed with his arrival, the awkwardness amongst everyone long gone and forgotten. It was as if he never left you. You were never over him, so his all time sweet gestures was making it harder for you to maintain your cold act.

“I happened to attempt making kimbap? But I am not sure if they are edible..” Sungchan trailed off as he hesitantly hands you the small metal box. You almost laughed at how cute but messy they looked, his failed attempt at giving the rolls eyes and lips with sesame seeds and ketchup was beyond adorable. You took the box from his grasp, a smile playing on your face as you looked at him. Sungchan upon noticing your grin, rubbed the nap of his neck shyly, his ears and cheeks mirror the shade the of the ketchup. You took a bite from one of the many rolls he made, a hum of satisfaction escaping your lips as you relished the tangy sweet taste. It was perfect, just how you preferred it.

“It’s pretty good.” You licked the stain of ketchup from your fingers, failing to notice how the male blushed harder at your subtle act. “We have Mr.Lee’s class, so I believe we should hurry up before it’s too late.”

On the night of the annual university carnival, Sungchan confessed to you. At least not in front of a public washroom this time. With the constant aid of Jeno and Jaemin, Sungchan was able to plan out a pretty dramatic confession for you. You were completely surprised when Jaemin called you out of nowhere, frantically asking for your presence to a specific classroom. You feared if the dork had committed some sort of treason explaining how dramatic he sounded, so you rushed without giving any second thoughts. However, when you saw the trail of roses with candles adorning the edges, you froze. It had the same scent both you and Sungchan had invented; the sweet scent of lily with tinges of tangerine to it.

A flustered looking Sungchan steps out from the dark, his hands rest behind his back as you cautiously scanned your face. When he saw no signs of discomfort, Sungchan slowly jogged to where you stood, his hands holding a bouquet of lilies with a small note on top of it.

“I know I have made tons of mistakes, hurt you so many times. But I still want to test my luck.” Sungchan got down on his knees, holding the bouquet with his head hanging low. “Y/L/N, will you allow me to be your man? Will you be my girlfriend?”

A shit eating grin spread on your face, slightly giggling at how adorable he looked. “I thought you’d never ask.” You took the flowers, a soft smile adorning your lips as you lock eyes with an extremely surprised Sungchan. “Of course Sungchan.”

“Of course? For real?” Sungchan couldn’t believe what just happened, he was half expecting you to flat out reject him at how inconsiderate he had been. But you accepted his apology, accepted his love. Sungchan stood up, his heart squeezing in delight and adoration for you. He cupped your face gently, as if you were a porcelain doll that would just break if not handled carefully. You saw how his eyes shone with love, sparkling brightly on the soft light from the lighted candles and you swore you never felt so much before for anyone else as much as you felt for him. Sungchan closed the proximity, his nose slight touching yours as he rested his forehead against yours, the smiling never for once leaving his face.

The tension was building up with each passing second, the sounds of your heavy breathing being the only silence breaker. You got impatient, the feeling of his lush lips got you being greedy as you closed the distance standing on your tip-toes, momentarily catching him off the grid before receiving the same attention back. You gripped on his shirt, too unbothered to break the kiss despite losing your breath. He paused for a moment, panting before pulling you back under his spell. The bottled feelings and emotions of longing and pining for each other were poured into the this sweet shared moment of yours. You were grateful that the whole building had no signs of any lurking students and professors, what was supposed to be a innocent make-up kiss soon transformed into a heated one as he held you by your waist, pinning you against the wall with his lips still attached to yours.

You pulled back for the heavy make-out session, almost earning a whine from the male before you soothed him with you words that came next. “I love you.”

Sungchan felt his already beating heart pick up its pace, becoming hastier that he was low-key afraid if he might face a stroke anytime. With a loving grin, he looked back at you who was still caged in his arms. He tucked the stray of hair brushing across the sides of your face from the soft breeze entering the windows, the illuminating yellow hues from the candles making you look like a dream. A dream that seemed unattainable to him until this very moment.

“I love you so so much. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself, to allow me to show you my feelings, Y/N.” He was breathless, he felt so many emotions at that moment when you glanced at him loving. He was afraid his pulse might stop any moment, so he kissed you back, but now filled with passion and desire. And let’s just say, one of your fantasies were fulfilled that night.

The news of his grandma passing away came after a few months when you both had officially started dating. Both the Jungs were extremely close to her, so when Jaehyun took her back to Myeongsu Hospital where he was currently the chief of neurology, her condition was inevitable. Jaehyun hoped that maybe she might get to spend more time on earth under his care, but he too was victim in the cruel hands of destiny. Sungchan rushed to your dorm, bloodshot eyes as he told you the news. You found yourself sobbing alongside him, tenderly keeping him embraced in your warmth as you shared his pain. You knew her personally as well, all the moments spent with her were a profound favorite part of teen years.

“I wanted to meet you before I leave for Seoul. I came to say a goodbye.” Sungchan sniffed, his hands wiping away the streams of water rolling down your face. You smiled at his concern, mimicking his actions you brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead before placing a soft peck against it.

“It’s okay. Don’t tell me goodbyes anymore...for I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Epilogue

Sungchan fumbled with his tie nervously, bile reaching up his throat as the worst scenarios flooded his brains. His eyes frantically looked around for help, making a bow-tie was just not his cup of his. A breath of relief escapes his lips when his eyes landed on his closest beloved friend Jeno. Jeno stood leaning against the door frame, an amused grin painting his sharp features as he walked to the struggling male.

“Bro...” Sungchan huffed pleadingly, a pout forming his eyes.

“Yes bro.” Jeno flashed him an eye roll, before having the same eye smile again as he fixed his friend’s tie. After all, it was a big event for him.

To say the least, you looked breathtaking in your white laced gown. The simplicity of the dress made you look more elegant, it enhanced your natural beauty and Sungchan couldn’t just tear his eyes away from your form. It was supposed to be the bride’s day, but to him you shone the brightest.

“You know it’s me getting married, but the new comers might assume it’s you considering how you are gaping at y/n shamelessly.” Jaehyun hissed to his best man, earning a scoff from Sungchan.

“Hyung, let me have my moment! Please.” Sungchan whined but was careful to tone it down, only to receive a slight nudge from the groom who chuckled at his antics.

The wedding was glamorous, elegant, anything that could be named as a dream wedding. Sungchan remained glued beside you the whole night, a proud grin on his face every time he was asked about the lady whose arms laid locked with his. With a smug look, he would rub on their faces that you were his girlfriend, especially exaggerating to the males who seemed to had their eyes on you. You both enjoyed the silent company of each other, the soothing sounds of the wind replacing the absence of music as Sungchan drove you back to your place, hands still intertwined. When he came in front of your shared apartment, he fidgeted in his seat nervously; fishing out something from his coat.

You figured it was another one of his endless gifts, so you just smiled with your back resting against the cushion seat of the car.

“Sungchan, you really need to-”

A throat seering stopped you in the midst of speaking, your eyes widening when you realized what the purple velvet box might contain. Sungchan let out breaths of nervousness, blowing out some air out of his lungs to lessen the feeling of anxiety as he looked at you, eyes as genuine as ever.

“Y/N, I don’t believe in fancy proposals as you know. It is an intimate moment for us so I want it to happen in the presence of only us.” Sungchan stuttered in the middle as he opened the box, revealing an extremely gorgeous but simple plated band with a small stone adorning the top perfectly.

“So will you marry me?”

You stared at the male dumbfounded. Your eyes refused to believe the scene in front of you, hearts doing numerous flips and turns and it was just hard to explain all the feelings you were feeling. Sungchan had always been the one for you, and even though not everyone gets to have a happy ending with their first love, you were beyond grateful that you had happened to fall in the rare probability.

“I...OF COURSE. OF COURSE I WILL.” You yelped in delight, shoving your hand in front of his face as he just laughed while placing the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with your overpowering passion and love, not realizing how if continued any longer, you guys might have to pay a fine for parking on the wrong side. So without wasting any time further, you both hauled yourselves to your apartment, refusing to break the contact of your lips molded perfectly together on your way. In short, let’s just say ‘sweet innocent kiss transformed into a heated one’ yet again.

I went completely overboard with this. I am so sorry if it didn’t turn up as you had expected it to, and honestly I am not completely pleased with it either. I felt like it could’ve been better in terms of expressing emotions. However, improvement is a never ending proccess and im still learning. SO TO WHOEVER WHO HAPPENED TO MAKE THIS TILL HERE. I LOVE YOU SODIJMS YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME.

Feedbacks and criticisms are always appreciated! Please care to leave them as it may help me potentially grow as a writer. Thank you for sparing your time to read my piece of work.

with love,

Hana.

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denkamis · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there!!! I wanted to let you know I love reading your work!! I would also like to request peanut butter with Kirishima, Bakugou, and Amajiki please!

to anon: ahh thank you so much anon!! that seriously means so much to me. i see you’re craving a bit of angst tonight, i hope that i can deliver, since i do like writing a fair amount of angst :,)))

warnings: love triangles, implied cheating, a lot of doubts, insecurities, and swearing. reader is gn! tread carefully with this one please

prompt: eijirou kirishima, katsuki bakugou, tamaki amajiki headcanons + “why are you lying to me?”

eijirou kirishima

kirishima didn’t want to believe it at first

he didn’t want to believe that you actually had feelings for bakugou, his best friend of all people

especially when bakugou knew how he was feeling about you

but how could he ever compare to bakugou? top of your class with such a manly quirk to back up his intense commitment to being a hero. his drive was impeccable, it was no wonder you liked him so much

he tried to keep his feelings on the downlow, wanting to support you and let you be happy with bakugou. it were your feelings, you were allowed to love who you wanted to love

so why was he feeling so distraught?

so utterly trapped by his emotions?

what the fuck was wrong with him?

it wasn’t as if anything between the two of you had changed, either. you were still his best friend, his study buddy, his person to go to whenever he got in his head

except now he couldn’t. he couldn’t look at you the same, especially when you talked about bakugou the way that you did

“hey, i think i might ask him out. what do you think, kiri?”

his entire world collapsed

you two had been studying for history together. it appeared that his brain had stopped functioning, your words processing in his mind. “what?” he asked you in a small voice, clearing his throat to better hide the way his voice had cracked. when his eyes met yours, you were staring at him curiously

“is everything okay?”

“me? oh yeah, no no! i’m okay. i think um, i think you totally should.”

“... really?”

kirishima was kicking himself, biting his tongue to keep his feelings from spilling all over his textbook. it wasn’t the manliest move to lie about his feelings, but he couldn’t simply hold you back from being with someone you liked that much

“yeah. i don’t see why not i mean, you talk about him all the time! so, i figured, if he makes you happy, go for it.”

“are you okay?”

“i- of course i am, i’m okay with you dating bakugou. it’s all okay with me!”

“why are you lying to me?”

“pardon?”

kirishima’s hand holding his pencil tensed, fidgeting ever so slightly as you continued to look at him intensely. nothing got past you

“kiri, seriously. is there something wrong?”

kirishima weighed out his options. he took in your features, your bright eyes looking serious and your mouth pulled into a pout as you watched him react. he held his breath, breaking your staring contest to glance back at his notebook below him

“do you really like him like that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i want you to be happy.”

“kirishima-”

“go date him.”

“huh?”

kirishima looked at you, a small smile on his face that held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “i think he’ll make you happy. bakubro’s not a bad guy, he’s super manly. i know he seems a bit, y’know, but i think he could really make you happy.” he was nothing compared to him. he could never make you as happy as bakugou.

not wanting to fight, you nodded your head slowly. “if you don’t want to talk about it, you can just tell me that too,” you replied gently. that wasn’t bothering him, you knew that. and yet you decided to keep your head down

to this day, looking at the invitation to yours and bakugou’s wedding still brings a sick feeling of regret to his stomach

he should have told you

he just realized too late

katsuki bakugou

you and katsuki had your arguments back and forth about his work life not constantly, but enough for you to take notice of it

sure, you and katsuki had your qualms but you always made up in the end. you both came back to each other, no matter how angry you both got or no matter how much time had passed

you always came back to each other

tonight though, was awful. it was the worst argument you two had ever had

“what is it now, dumbass?” he growled aggressively, his eyes flicking to you with a certain annoyance that looked all too familiar to you

“where were you tonight? we had a date.”

“was at work.”

he didn’t even look up from his phone

you weren’t satisfied with his answer, knowing him and his schedule well enough to be aware that he had not been at the agency

“no, you weren’t at work.”

he scoffed with a shake of his head. “sure, believe what you want to believe.”

“can you listen to me while i’m talking to you? i’m standing literally right here.”

he let out a small “hm” at your remark, your fists clenched as you gritted your teeth. he was really pushing your buttons now

finally, right then and there, you had had enough of his bullshit

“why are you lying to me?”

bakugou’s head whipped up, face contorted in an ugly sort of snarl like an animal finally biting after being provoked for long enough

“the fuck do you mean i’m lying? why the fuck would i lie to you?”

“i know you weren’t at work! you’re done at five and you came home at eight. where were you?”

“i was going home and stopped a shitty villain, is that what you wanted to hear?” the way he spat words at you with such a venomous tongue made your blood boil. you decided to push further

“what villain?”

“fucking christ, really? do you seriously not trust me?”

you said nothing, fear coursing through your body as doubts plagued your mind. his gaze watched you steadily, tears wetting your cheeks as you crossed your arms. you decided to finally let him know

“i know, katsuki. i saw the fucking texts.”

bakugou seemed to be frozen in place, a slow realization washing over the anger on his face. he looked like a deer in headlights

you stood tall, your chin pointed up as you held faux confidence before him

had you not been enough for him? had you pushed him too far? maybe this had been your fault. no. this wasn’t the time to overthink. you had to protect yourself. you vowed to yourself no one would ever treat you like that again. mustering up all the courage you had, picking your shattered heart off the floor of your now one person inhabited apartment, you offered two words to him

“get out.”

tamaki amajiki

it wasn’t exactly a secret that tamaki was a person who tended to overthink things a lot

he would get jitters and his nerves would act up, causing him to be a little more insecure than the average person

he needed a lot of reassurances, to which you didn’t mind giving him. you loved tamaki, you would always be there to support him. you were his partner, he was your boyfriend. of course you would be there for him to lean back on

there were some times where his mind would spiral, especially when it was later at night and he couldn’t sleep

he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes going in and out of focus as he listened to the steady rhythm of your breathing. twiddling his thumbs, he sighed. you deserved better than the stuttering mess that he was. someone who wasn’t afraid to speak up during nights out with your friends, someone who was more positive and less doubtful

he was scared you would realize all of these things and just walk out of his life

you were so precious to him

he couldn’t have that happen

“tama?”

your voice pierced the silence of the night, his thoughts dissipating as the rustling of the sheets indicated you were sitting up in your shared bed

oh no, oh god had you realized?

“why are you up, darling?” you asked of him gently as the light of the lamp was flicked on

his cheeks looked red and streaked with tears

“hey, talk to me. what’s going on?”

not wanting to be a bother, he shook his head, pulling the covers up to hide his face from you

“n- nothing bunny. let’s just get some rest.”

“why are you lying to me?”

your voice wasn’t accusatory, you had merely asked the question. tamaki, however, visibly flinched at your words

“no, let’s not… it’s really nothing,” he mumbled beneath his blanket shield, turning over to face away from you. he couldn’t tell you about what he was feeling, not now. not when he hadn’t made up at least 80 different ways the conversation would play out. he needed to be prepared for all of them

“tamaki,” you reached out for his touch, your hand meeting his quivering form before he shrugged your hand off his shoulder

“go to bed, it’s nothing,” he said more firmly this time

this wasn’t what he wanted

why was he pushing you away?

tamaki’s hands squeezed the edges of the covers, eyes closing shut in a sorry attempt to block out what he was feeling. doubt and anxieties swirled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach

“i.. alright. we’ll talk about this in the morning?”

tamaki said nothing in response, your heart wrenching in your chest upon receiving silence

the two of you barely slept anymore than a wink that night, the shadow of your shared insecurities looming over you both

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox @honeykami @httpfirx @strawberrysalwa @hey-i-really-miss-you @smexy-goose @satis-kei

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #kirishima angst #bakugou angst #amajiki angst #denkamis.hcs #denkamis.requests

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uvobreakmylegs · 4 years ago

Text

Red Thread of Fate

I wrote this when I was in a mood but hopefully Paku isn’t too ooc

Soulmate AU

“The red thread is what connects you to your soulmate, my dear. When the time is right, the rest of it will appear and lead you to them.”

Those were the words your mother had said to you one morning several years ago, after you had woken up to discover a red string wrapped around your left pinky that, no matter how hard you tried, wouldn't come off. When you went to your father about it, he didn't know what you were talking about, unable to see it. Your mother had then pulled you aside and explained it. How everyone was meant to be with someone, but not everybody had the ability to see those connections like the two of you could.

“I waited until our connection revealed itself, and at the end of the thread I found your father,” she had said, “it may take a long time, perhaps even years, but one day, you will find your soulmate at the end of that thread, and I am certain that you will find happiness with them.”

The words she had spoken always stayed with you. Even after moving out of your parent's home and finding a job on the outskirts of a nearby city, every time your eyes drifted to the thread around your pinky, that conversation and musings about your soulmate repeated themselves in your head.

Not only could you see your own thread, but you were able to see the threads that connected others. Just as your mother had said, a red thread connected her to your father. Several of your old friends from high school also had those threads connecting them to their spouses, and part of you wanted to ask them if they could see the threads and knew that they were meant for each other. But you remembered the concerned reaction your father had when you had tried to show him, and so you kept your mouth shut.

Through the years, you weren't surprised to see that couples whose threads weren't attached generally ended up splitting apart. Couples that aren't made for each other never stay together, your mother whispered to you as the two of you watched the couple next door as they argued in their front yard. Their threads weren't connected, and months later, they had divorced. You had been able to make a few calls on some of your friends relationships that way, whenever problems arose with their partners you would subtly push them to end things, and they always came out happier when they did.

But as you saw those around you connecting and finding their own soulmates, your thread remained as a small circle around your finger.

That was the most likely reason why the self-doubt within you had formed. Seeing everyone else find their soulmates without even trying, while you knew what it was that brought people together but were left alone, the thread that tied you to your soulmate staying invisible.

Your mother had forbade you from dating after she found out you could see the thread, citing that she didn't want you wasting your time on anyone who wasn't your soulmate. The remainder of your high school years had left you feeling empty in terms of romance. Even after moving out, you kept out of the dating scene, your mother's instruction ingrained into you as you waited for the rest of the thread to appear. You were pinning all of your hopes onto your unknown soulmate, you realized, and then you had a terrible thought:

What if your soulmate didn't like you?

What if they hated you?

What if when you did finally meet them, they just didn't want to be in a relationship with you?

Your mother had insisted that you would find happiness with them, but she could be wrong. She was wrong a lot actually, and there was now the possibility in your mind that maybe you had wasted too much of your life pinning your hopes on your soulmate and in the end would only be left with disappointment. But by now you weren't sure of what else to do, as you were still unwilling to reach out to see if anyone else was aware of the soulmate connection.

So for now, you maintained your course, trying to keep your outlook positive while those fears simmered in the back of your mind.

Life had a certain monotonous quality to it. You went to work, you did your studies, you hung out with friends in the time that was left, over and over again. And in the quiet moments, you would look at the thread, waiting to see if there was any change.

So when something different finally did happen, you were caught completely off-guard.

It was a late-afternoon on a weekday, with very few customers coming in to the store where you worked. You had been in the process of pretending to work to avoid getting a talking to from your manager about being lazy, wiping down a surface that didn't need it as you waited for the time to go by, and you'd glanced down at your hand.

There was a thread coming off of the one on your pinky, trailing along the the tiled floor and out onto the sidewalk outside.

It was finally happening. You could finally see it, finally use that connecting thread to find your soulmate.

The universe must have also been waiting for this moment, because shortly after your manager approached you and asked if you wanted to leave work early. You jumped at the chance with such enthusiasm that it surprised him.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Something came up,” you answered, already heading to the back.

Stuffing your work uniform into your bag, you began to follow the thread once you made it outside. The trail was straightforward, but it appeared as though it went on for several blocks. After a few minutes, it took a turn to the left, the end still nowhere in sight.

With a small sigh, you made your way forward. You'd waited this long, after all.

The thread you followed vanished as you made your way along, flowing up and disappearing into the thread around your finger. As you made your way through the streets, you tuned out the world around you which left you alone with your thoughts, and those ugly questions popped up again. What would you do if they didn't like you? How do you even approach them? Since it was obvious your ability to see the soulmate connection was rare, it seemed unlikely to you that they would be able to tell that it existed at all. And you couldn't just go up to them and tell them that the two of you were soulmates. Your palms began to sweat as you wondered if doing this was a bad idea; maybe you weren't actually meant to see this thread and should just let fate handle everything. But after all of this time, you at least wanted to see who it was you were meant to be with.

The thread trail began to grow taught the further you went – that meant you were getting close, right?

You were in a nicer area of the city now, one in which you felt vastly out of place. And based off some of the glances you caught people giving you, you must have looked out of place as well.

Another turn at a corner, and you saw the trail lead up the steps of a.... Museum?

There was a large number of people gathered at the front, all appearing to be waiting to go inside. The banners on the building indicated that something new was being displayed, but that mattered very little to you as you saw the thread disappear into the crowd. You kept to the side of the stairs, dipping past the people who were situated on the steps as you looked for who the thread connected to. It would be a problem if your soulmate was already inside the museum, as you doubted you would be able to get inside with how you were dressed. Would you have to wait for them to come back outside? You doubted museum security would let you do that if they were in there for hours.

Those worries turned out to not matter, as you stepped behind a group on the landing outside the entrance and saw the end of the thread, and the woman it was attached to.

Tall and slender in a suit top and skirt with short blonde hair and an aquiline nose, she was speaking to a man with slicked back hair and a long black coat. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, but she had a serious expression on her face, and you noticed she appeared to be scanning the crowd around her. Was this person really your soulmate? You checked again, looking at the thread that hung from your pinky.

She was. No question about it.

Already you felt that she was far more intimidating than you could have anticipated, and you wracked your brain trying to figure out how you could approach someone like her.

You noticed that she glanced down at her hand, and then she did a double-take. Was she.... Was she looking at the thread? Her eyes were clearly trailing along the thread's path.

She could see it?

Then her eyes met yours, and she looked at you with a muted surprise. Your expression was likely similar – you hadn't counted on your soulmate on being able to see the thread, and at the moment you could do little more than stare at her.

The man she had been talking to was looking at you now as well, having noticed her reaction. They were speaking again, but they kept their eyes on you. It only caused you more confusion. What were they saying? Who was he? Who was he to her? Could he also see the thread? Was it possible that you had run into two people in one day who could do that?

You stayed still, watching, unsure of what to do. Then the man said something, to which your soulmate nodded. He then turned and walked over to the museum doors, but not before looking at you with a small smile.

Your attention was quickly brought back to your soulmate as she approached you.

Oh God this was really happening.

“Umm.... Hello?”

Your first words to her sounded pathetic. That was what you thought the instant they fell out of your mouth. But if she felt the same way she didn't show it.

“Hello,” she responded. A warm smile graced her lips.

You opened your mouth, trying to say something – anything – when you were bumped from behind. You only stumbled forward a few steps before she steadied you, her hands on your shoulders. The woman who had bumped into you didn't even acknowledge you, content to continue on her way.

“We should find someplace else to talk,” you soulmate said, and you nodded in agreement. With an arm wrapped around your shoulder, she led you through the crowd of people and back down the steps. She kept that arm around you until you were a good distance away from the museum, pulling away once the two of you had found a secluded spot next to a building.

“So......”

Was all you were able to say once the two of you had stopped. After all those years of wondering about this moment, the things you would say to your soulmate, and you could barely get a word out.

“So?” she repeated, her head tilting slightly.

“You can see it?” you asked.

That was a stupid question, you told yourself. Of course she could see it. That was why she came up to you.

“Yeah, I can,” she nodded, “but I'm more surprised that you're able to. How long have you been able to do that?”

“Since years ago. My mother is also able to see the threads, so I thought it was just something the two of us could do.”

“A lot more people have that ability than you may think.”

“Really? How long have you-”

Your words were interrupted by the growl of your stomach.

You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled, your cheeks growing red.

“Don't worry about it,” she said, chuckling, “I guess food is in order; do you know anything around here that's good?”

You shook your head.

“I'm not familiar with this area, so....”

“That's fine. We can just walk until we find something. My treat.”

She motioned with her head to follow, and the two of you made your way down the sidewalk once again. You should have been on the lookout for some sort of restaurant where the two of you could properly sit and have a conversation, but your gaze kept going back to her, a million questions running through your head.

“Do you not live around here, then?” you asked.

“No. I'm only in town for some business.”

“Business? Wait, that wasn't why you were at that museum, was it?”

“It was.”

She didn't sound angry or even a little agitated, but guilt from pulling her away from a possible job hit you.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you if you were doing something important.”

“It's not a problem,” she said, “you take precedence.”

Despite her words, you were still worried.

“Won't you get in trouble for leaving?”

She chuckled again.

“No. My boss was very understanding.”

Boss? You wondered if it was the man she had been speaking to, given that he was the only one who you had seen her with. Questions on who he was and what exactly she did for a living were about to spill out of your mouth before she interrupted you.

“What about you? You didn't skip work just to hunt me down, did you?”

“Ah, no. It was slow, so I was able to leave early.”

“And where do you work?”

“A small store on the other side of the city. It doesn't pay all that well, but it's about as good as I can get.”

“I see.”

The two of you continued to walk, with her being the only one still looking for a place to eat. Maybe you were overreacting, but you swore you could hear a bit of disdain in her voice in her last response. The self-doubt that had been in the back of your mind for years began to show its head, and you were caught up once more in the worry that your soulmate didn't like you. That you weren't good enough for her. Reflecting on the actions that had lead to this point, you wondered if you had gone with the most selfish route. You had literally tracked her down and had forced her to acknowledge you, even if the second part had been unintentional. And now, even though the two of you knew nothing about each other, she had put business on hold and was even taking you out for a meal. Were you just causing her problems?

“What's wrong?”

Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you realized that you had stopped walking. She stood before you, her head tilted in concern.

“Are you not feeling well?” she asked.

“No, it's just..... I'm sorry,” you said.

She blinked in surprise.

“For what?”

“I just.... I'm.... Worried that this is a disappointment for you,” you mumbled.

“You're clearly a lot better off than I am, and I don't have much to offer you, in terms of..... Well, anything really,” you continued, “I don't want to just barge into your life and disrupt it. So, if you don't want anything to do with me, I completely under-”

A finger to your lips stopped your rambling, and you looked back up at her.

“You apologize too much,” she said after a beat, taking her finger away. The urge to give her another apology rose up, but you bit your lip as you realized you would be in that awkward position where you apologized for apologizing.

She seemed to sense your turmoil, as she brought her hand back to cup your cheek, and you felt the urge to lean into it.

“I'm not disappointed in the slightest,” she said, “I'm very glad that you came to find me; I can't wait to learn more about you.”

The blush from earlier returned to your face and you found it hard to keep eye contact with her, your eyes turning to the concrete sidewalk as she smiled at you. You were at a loss for words once again, but she didn't push you to respond. She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you forward.

“I think there's a place we can eat at up ahead. Let's go check it out, okay?”

You nodded in response, keeping up with her pace as she kept her arm around you.

Another thought occurred to you.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Ah. We somehow didn't get to that, did we?” she laughed.

“I'm Pakunoda. And you?”

The way she looked at you was nothing other than loving, and you felt your heart flutter at the way she repeated your name after you told her. All of the doubts that had grown over the years were quashed in an instant. Pakunoda wanted to be with you. She was happy the two of you had met. Everything was going to be fine.

That had been too close for comfort, Pakunoda thought to herself. Had she not happened to be at the museum's entrance speaking to Chrollo, she could have missed you entirely, and that left open a slight chance that you could have gotten into the museum and then be slaughtered like the rest of the guests. It was doubtful that the rest of the troupe would have been paying attention to such a thing, and would have left her with her nen abilities gone.

She had noticed that the thread appeared shortly after she and the rest of the troupe had arrived at the museum's back entrance for their current heist, but the thread had been completely slack and leading in the opposite direction, and she just assumed that she could leave it until afterwards and then track you down. But never had she counted on you being able to see it, much less you going out in search of her. Especially when you clearly didn't have much in terms of a nen ability. You didn't even know that you were using gyo to see the thread between the two of you.

Paku would explain it to you eventually and help you develop your skills, though it she didn't plan on ever having you participate in any heists. Like the other soulmates for the troupe, if you had nen then you needed to be trained enough so you could defend yourself.

The two of you were sitting in a booth at the very back of a small restaurant, you telling stories about your life that you clearly felt were too mundane while she listened and smiled at you, silently encouraging you to open up to her. Although in truth she was only half-listening. While she had played it off that this situation hadn't affected her in the slightest, her own emotions were running wild over your meeting, though for reasons much different than yours. For the troupe, finding one's soulmate was something that was necessary to ensure that one's nen couldn't be lost due to a soulmate's untimely death. At worst, a soulmate was a burden; something that needed to be protected just so one could ensure their abilities wouldn't just vanish one day. And while Pakunoda didn't view the concept as harshly as some of the others, she did understand the sentiment.

But when she had seen the way you had been pushed forward, Paku's first thought was that she should blast the head off of the woman who had bumped into you.

A brief moment of irrationality that she had quickly managed to quell, instead just taking you away from that area. She wasn't used to feeling such rage over such a small action, especially one over someone who was still a stranger to her. Paku would be the first to admit that she didn't open up easily to others, and yet she had been ready to kill for you within seconds of meeting you. There had clearly been more to the soulmate bond than she had initially thought.

As you continued to talk, she glanced up at a clock on the wall – their operation at the museum would have started by now, the patrons dead or in the process of dying. Pakunoda's eyes narrowed at the thought of the woman who had pushed you being killed in various ways, depending on who she came across.

“Is everything alright?”

Your voice brought her back, and she realized she had been smiling at the thought. She quickly wiped it away, shaking her head and giving you a more genuine smile.

“I'm fine,” she said.

“You bring out a side of me I didn't even know I had.”

You blushed, taking a swig out of your drink as you avoided her gaze while the darker implications of her words flew over your head. The warm feelings of affection began to fill Pakunoda again as she watched your reactions. So uncertain but so clearly head over heels for her.

She decided then that she would hold off on letting you know about the troupe. At least for as long as she was able to. From what you had said about your job, you didn't seem to like it, so it would be easy enough to get you to quit if she began to provide for you. Then it would just be a matter of moving you somewhere else, somewhere more out of the way where you would be off the radar. Pakunoda knew she would need to tell you the truth eventually. There was no lie she would be able to come up with to explain away her “job”. But by that point, she hoped that you would love her enough to overlook it.

The thread that connected you to her spanned across the table. She reached over to cover your hand with her own, and you smiled, the sight of you doing so warming her heart.

Everything was going to be fine.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere hunter x hunter #pakunoda #reader insert #pakunoda x reader #hxh pakunoda

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hoefette · 4 years ago

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All the petty things I hate about fate!winx and their shitty universe/world building because

I'd added most if these in tags of other posts but I'm still so mad lmao

The way characters, Aisha and Mrs Dowling specifically make references to explicitly human or American things like instagram and Harry Potter

These people are from a different dimension for ffs why are they concerned with or are even aware of this very earth-specific shit? Do they teach earth classes at school over there?

I understand not wanting to have them be oblivious so Bloom wouldn't have to explain it to them, but it simply could be ✨omitted✨

Why would you go out of your way to date your work like this lmao ew

Ms. Dowling calling Tinkerbell an air fairy.. I cannot breeve with the stupidity why did they keep that in there

Why is Ms. Dowling.. the headmistress.. teaching classes? Where are the other teachers?

We ended up with a trio of antagonists (I guess you could call them that?) by the end of the season anyway so why not give us the trix, why have the characters play double roles as friends of our protagonists and also the villains/bullies? They clearly wanted a delinquent trio, in which case they could've gender bent the trix if they wanted to keep all the unnecessary sexual tension.

It just feels like the production team was lazy, they didn't want to hire more actors, they didn't want to bother with making the world immersive or lived in or believable at best, they just didn't give enough of a fuck

They wanted to make this show and attatch Winx to it for.. what? Like did you even google the main plot points? The abridged version or sparknotes to get details on the very literal, basic characteristics of our main characters or their roles or the world they inhabit????

It lacks wonder and intrigue.. I mean Bloom moves to another dimension, a school for fairies and we don't see her marvel once at anything.. and that's because she might as well have been in Switzerland because she's in exactly the same environment she would've been in over there anyway.

They could've said Alfea was in Europe and I'd believe it because nothing about the setting makes it feel otherworldly. I'm sorry but I'm not impressed.

Why do the teachers and graduated specialists communicate via facetime ?? In the magic dimension. ??? Why do they text each other and those texts then appear on screen like .. oh look, like a bad netflix teen movie ????? HELLO ??? it's the way technology and magic could've blended in so seamless into the world THE WAY IT WAS ALREADY DONE/SHOWN. Missed opportunity. it just takes you out of it imo every time you see the ugly, bland, gray text bar. Some fucking flavour pls I'm begging

How stupid the specialist must feel clonking around with the skinniest shreds of armor, plastic swords on their backs and battery powered flashlights and cellphones in their bags. R we larping?? I know I'd be laughing and asking why we hadn't already come up with something more effective .. idk like guns. I'm surprised I ain't see one gun in there.

In the beginning Ms. Dowling says some nonsense about fairies having lost the ability to transform to explain why there are no wings, which means they could've transformed before. So are we to assume that this supposed to be set in the time proceeding the original then?? Because something is not adding up with where they should be as a magical society technologically if that's the case

How does the production team want to keep the dark academia vibes with torches lining the walls and also want them to be face timing each other, presumably from miles and miles away in the dark forest???

Pls pick an aesthetic and stick to it everything was so unnecessarily dark. Where do they charge their phones since it's the only device we see that is the slightest bit modern and dont fucking tell me they charge it with magic I will punch you in the face

Why is there only one major monarchy that we are shown? Why are Solaria the only ones contributing to the efforts to defend the school and where is this mysterious battalion we never see lmaoo it's all so bad its laughable.

Is this set in the kingdom of Solaria? And why does the queen of an alleged interdimensional superpower monarchy pull up in black SUVs??????????? Why does she pull up with Andreas?? Is he not the king of Erakleon?? Where are his soldiers and his battalion and just?? Huh!? The world just feels empty like nobody lives here fr

Are we supposed to believe that the specialists get paired up with fairies just as a normal occurence and that they have to 'trust each other' and not because the plot demands it suddenly half way through when all we've seen so far are the fairies doing normalish school and homework, and the specialists outside, being physical everyday all day. This was never even implied that they'd have to work together apart from when we see the faculty as youngins with Rosalind. But even then.. it's like well why are they even together lmao? Is this a special team formed from Rosalind’s protégées? Were they formed after graduating from Alfea or what is this?? Are they the ONLY team of specialist/fairies hunting every single burned one?? What?

Are we now supposed to buy that Musa is being switched to 'support' because that's where her strengths lie and not in combat?? Are we supposed to believe that these girls know hand to hand combat?? When was this established? We see Terra wrapping some baby vines around a dude and I'm sorry is that the practical application of her power? Is this what the fairies are supposed to do once they graduate? Or is it just a switch in curriculum because of the threats outside the barrier?? This is never made clear.

Because if not then what's the point of this?? Why do they suddenly have endless classes together when the expectation was never set for the fairies to be like soldiers or out in the field fighting ?

Where exactly are they supposed to be what was the purpose of including Aster Dell and why is it a joy ride away from Alfea lmao?? Where Bloom is from and also not from?? Plot pls make it make sense

Why are fairies from another dimension vaping or smoking weed?? They are not human so why are they engaging in specifically human vices, yol couldn't come up with anything else to characterize 'delinquents'?? Very lazy very como se dices.. no effort. Nothing a little more spicy yol could invent, at least change the name and some properties holy shit did yol even try ??

So its fairies everywhere, having a lil party in the east wing of a phat castle.. and they are playing beer pong and dressed in t shirts and jeans..

Can you hear me screaming? Can you hear me vibrating with rage?

Not one floating decoration or magical anything in sight. Just purple lights and subpar vibes

Stella's costume design: tragic. I won't discuss further because we don't have the space or time but just know that it was absolutely atrocious and I hated it. Giving very debutante vibes

The entire budget going to that lame transformation sequence that was not a transformation sequence and those horrible, barely-there fire wings

Edgelord bloom and all her fucking leather jackets. Why do 30 yo, white cis men think girls exist in a binary? They could keep her earlier characterization and make her a hothead.. Bloom literally screamed herself into a couple power upgrades in the original come ooonnnn

Let girls be feminine without it being a character flaw what is wrong with yol its 2021. They could make her more mature, more angsty or whatever the hell else and not style her like that

The way Aisha's abilities flipflop between episodes and scenes. Very inconsistent. One minute she's struggling with a drop of water and the next she is moving an entire body of water for her bestie Bloom to fake transform because the plot demands it. Why even add in her struggles at all if you're just going to ignore it?

Why was Stella with them in that scene? She didn't do anything literally.. Aisha pulled the water and she did .. nothing.

Who the fuck is Rosalind? Why would they add her in,, to add nothing to story? The company of light was a thing, they could've plucked one of them hoes to be the antagonist. Why did the winx club need their own Delores Umbridge? Valtor was right there if you wanted an evil educator type character.

The camera work was so bland during the down beats, stagnant and fixed during a fairy party and erratic and ugly and disorienting during the fight scenes

I'm not getting over the fairy party because it was a good opportunity for the production and everyone else to show the differences between where Bloom was and where she is now but instead it just looks like a regular teen high school party?? This could have been set in Switzerland fr.

Everyone's just kind of standing?? You mean to tell me these people are from all different places in the magical dimension and their customs are all the same? They all throw parties like this ??

White and flavorless I am very bored

I guess the main question or takeaway I have is just.. who is this for? Because everyone, including the showrunners keep saying that it's for us, the fans of the original. But apart from the characters sharing some names, there are really no other similarities. So again, who was this supposed to appease or placate or satisfy? Because it sure as hell wasn't the winx club fans.

Overall, this feels very much like something I wrote and probably published on ff.net when I was 13 because I thought girls couldn't be taken seriously if they liked pink, and injected angst into everything that didn't need it and had no idea how to structure scenes or dialogue. It's just bad, objectively and N*tflix will keep making shit like this because apparently some people have bad taste??? Idk yol, be easy

#im never gonna stop i dont care i dont care #and i dont even usually make my own posts i just be reblogging and vibing #but im passionate abt this because he originak was the reason i wanted to learn how to draw #it was the reason i wanted to learn how to write and tell stories #it shaped a lot of shit for me because it was the very first one of its kind id ever seen #i ran home from school to watch it and argued with my friends about who got to be flora #i forced them to make cardboard wings with me and to perform the opening song during a school talent show #thank god we didnt get to perform otherwise we would all have died of embarrassment in hindsight #but ye i just hate to see things that obviously are very dear to a lot of people be treated with such casual indignity and its a disservice #a disservice to the fans and to the people who had probably want to create it as a passion project #to the people who spent hours and hours in rewrites and fanart amazing fanart and post series continuations #no one is saying the original is sacred and cannot be touch #this fandom actively calls out the bullshit rainbow has done and continues to do to the characters we love.. i havent spoken to one fan who #doesnt have an alter dedicated to their downfall. we found a piece of ourselves in these gorls and they were stripped and caricatured and #played for laughs so netfilx can make money and its just very upsetting to see.#so again fuck you brian young fuck you ignio and rainbow and fuck whoever the costume designer was #mine #text #fate winx club #fate: the winx saga #f:tws #winx club

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 12

Click here if you are a first time reader.

Summary / TWs: Steve Rogers does not pass the vibe check yet again, le sad face. Loki is a good bro. Bruce fluff but what else is new? Literally everyone is a good bro, yo. Reader has best people. Tony's in there, kind of. Parents still suck.

For taglist: please send an ask if you changed your @! I noticed several people are unavailable :(

As always, my baby gay @miscmarvelwritings is the bestest beta!

"I think I am going to murder your father." Bucky's angry statement didn't surprise me. Neither did Steve's initial reaction, or anybody else's mostly pitying looks.

Bruce, my Bwucie, was calm and dejected. That worried me. I expected him to be at least a little bit green around the edges when Steve forcefully sat me down and made me explain the drunken, drugged stunt I'd done the night before, but alas, it seemed like Jolly Green was just sad. Or disappointed. And I didn't know which was worse.

The more I thought about it, the more defensive and abrasive I became. "And you'll kill yourself trying, he'll drive you fucking nuts" I responded to Barnes. "Honestly, I don't fucking see the problem here. My dad shows up five times a year at best. It's been like that forever. And it's not like I'm some kind of junkie," I defended myself, and my dad, because I really didn't see the huge deal about it. Relaxing once in a while doesn’t hurt anyone.

"It's not right!" Steve exclaimed, loosely banging a fist on the table. The self-righteous prick, seemed like he wanted to pick a fight just for the sake of it.

"And who are you, exactly, to say that? The moral police?" I blew up, standing and turning to the blonde man, hands on my hips. "Or you've decided to be my parent without asking me first? Keep your hopes up and maybe a fuck will magically appear, so I could give it to you."

He stood up in turn, getting uncomfortably close to my face. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was a very large, very strong man. "We want what's best for you! Can't you see it?" Rogers was getting red in the face, crossed arms, staring at me down like I was dirt under his shoes.

"How about..." I seethed, having to stop mid-sentence to swallow the scream that wanted to erupt. "How about... You FUCKING ask me what I want?"

"I suggest the Captain leave to go calm down," Loki suddenly piped up. He stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, picking at his food instead. Only after his sharply uttered words I noticed he had stood up. His hand hovered over my shoulder, body discreetly wedging between me and the Captain.

I heard Steve growl before he stormed off, throwing an annoyed look at Loki. A pregnant silence hung in the room. The longer it lasted, the more I wanted to crawl out of my skin, suddenly hyper aware of all these people - strangers, save a few - debating on what to do with me. Like I wasn't a person. Like...

"Ugh, fucking hell," I growled, beelining for my bag. I had definitely overstayed my welcome.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, standing up to follow.

"Home," I replied curtly, nodding my thanks to Loki for the intervention. He nodded back, walking off. I would have probably started swinging at the Icicle Dick if not for the raven haired Asgardian's timely interruption.

"I'll drive you," Banner trotted after me like a dejected puppy. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this, at all.

"I need to see Tony first. Meet you downstairs?"

Bruce nodded, looking even more confused.

Tony kissed me hungrily, in between promises to kill Steve and cancel my dad and get me my own apartment in the tower. Believing in fairy tales wasn't something I was ever prone to; I smiled, nodded along and did my best to shut him up with my own mouth on his. I left with the promise to text him as soon as I got home.

"How are you?" Bruce asked me as we once again drove through the busy city. This was becoming a nice habit but we really had to meet up when I wasn't going through another one of my turmoils.

"All things considered, I am great. Better than I've been in a while." I answered honestly, meaning it. However brief Tony's attention would be, it still satisfied me. Then and there I decided to always, always cherish what happened during my brief stint in his arms.

"Really?" Banner's warm smile was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. "Care to share?"

It threw me for a loop. I didn't know how much Tony wanted to disclose regarding what happened between us. I didn't know the extent of his friendship with Bruce. I didn't know...

"Tony," I choose the usual option. Admit what you can't deny, deny what you can't admit.

"I know the feeling," The good doctor chuckled, companionable-like and meaningful. "He tends to go all the way for the people he cares about. Too much, if you ask me."

"What do you mean?" I was confused. Sure, me and Tony were friends. But not, like, super close or anything. We'd fucked, or more like messed around, so I expected our friendship to grow colder. That's what happened when friends decided to bump uglies.

"I mean... He'll move mountains and challenge the government and bully them into dropping charges against you," There was a hint of sadness in Brucie's voice. I vaguely recalled seeing something on the news, something about the Hulk and a massive destruction spree. It didn't take long to put two and two together.

I reached out, putting a hand on his knee. He covered my palm with his own, giving it a brief, warm squeeze.

"It must be great having a friend like that. You're both wonderful and brilliant. You deserve no less," The smile threatened to split my face in two.

Bruce returned the smile but the sadness didn't go away. "You realize that extends to you, right?"

"Me? I'm just me, Bruce." I wasn't sure where this was going. "I'm Peter's classmate and the resident hot mess express."

Bruce frowned, deep and long, up until he parked. Life seemed to be taking back all the happiness it gave me previously-in fucking buckets. The strap of my bag was going to get its threads pulled out with the way I was fiddling with it.

"Baby… Princess?" The scientist turned to me, tone torn somewhere between stern and pleading. "Listen to me. You are brilliant. Incredibly smart, talented and beautiful. Don't ever, ever think of yourself as less than any of us." I gaped at him.

Did he mean us as the Avengers? Us as Tony and Bruce? Meanwhile he continued, "In fact, I think you are the one who deserves so much better. I don't know what Tony found in me… Or what you found in me."

Was the man an idiot or yes? That was the question of the day. Cursing Tony's affinity for small cars (bless me and my own SUV), I only hesitated a moment before grabbing the dumb Banner by his face and startling him into looking straight in my eye. "If you don't quit talking all that fake-ass bullshit, I will kiss you. On the mouth. With tongue."

"Uh," Was his articulate response. I watched him squirm, blush and lose the heat to his argument.

"Exactly. I've had it all with you idiots today. Next time someone says some stupid ass fucking thing, I will kiss them. On the mouth, with tongue. Pass it on," I exhaled, releasing his face and dropping my head onto his shoulder.

"Some way of solving conflict you have," Banner chuckled weakly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I'd like to see Steve's reaction."

"A boner, probably, because he needs to get laid before he spontaneously combusts," I grumbled venomously, still bitter about his reaction. The Capsicle needed to chill. Hehe.

"I'll pass it on too," Bruce remarked wryly. "See you next week?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Bwucie, you're the fucking best," I kissed the scientist on the cheek, giving him a tighter than usual parting hug and walking up the pathway. Home.

Mother was nowhere to be seen - and the obvious reason for that laid on the kitchen floor. Couple of smashed dishes, a bottle of whiskey laying half-empty in a puddle on the grey tiles. The living room rug bore more stains and the smell of alcohol, bitter and acrid (like my soul, hardy har), hung heavily throughout the whole house.

At least I wasn't the only one who fought for myself that day. Mother probably had landed a good one on dad, too, by God the woman could be ruthless with her icy words. Dad never stood a chance. I've felt begrudgingly respectful of the way mother put people in their place with her words ever since I understood sarcasm.

First things first, I cleaned up the mess and opened the windows a smidge, cranking the air recuperation system to the max. Hanging around a place that smelled like a bum on a good Friday night was a horrible way to spend free time. Having successfully cut myself and bandaged the cuts up, I retreated to my room, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in the quiet, stinky, creepy house that my home had become.

My phone was long dead so I plugged it in, waiting for the 2% to appear, turning it on. A few messages from Peter, first cheerful, then worried and then relieved. Tony must've placated the spider child and told him I was staying at the tower. Good call, Tones, or else poor Peter would've worked himself into an anxiety attack and crashed in a dumpster while patrolling. Or something. I still didn't quite get his spider-hero side-gig.

A text from Bruce - rather, a photo, of a disgruntled Steve with his eyebrows raised, titled "I told him the next time he freaks out, you will kiss him. With tongue. Barnes cackled for about ten minutes until he ran out of air."

And a text from Tony. My chest tightened when I opened it. "Good tactics. Sneaky, clever, I'd give it a B+."

I snorted. Then the phone beeped again and I froze. A text ordering me to be ready tomorrow, for a date night? Unreal. I was torn. A part of me was elated, thinking Tony wanted to keep me around like that. The other, more sensible part, was firmly telling me to chill TF down. He'll most likely kindly reject any further intimate interactions, maybe have me sign a few NDAs.

I still answered positive, mushy and cute and all. Feelings aside, I wasn't about to change my texting style for any man. My God, I was turning into a monster. A horribly cheesy, pink, soft, fluffy monster.

The next day, school was nearly unbearable. People talked. Not to my face, of course, since the rumours of me putting away Flash Thompson were still fresh enough for everyone to be cautious around me, but the whispers followed me throughout hallways, tongue in cheek remarks thrown at me from the bathroom stalls, behind the teacher's desks. Did I care? Nope.

Okay, I did, but not in the way one would think. The little spring in my step, a slight smirk. My thoughts were occupied with my upcoming dinner with Tony.

Peter and his pet nerds stood at my side, the ever watchful guards. I had no idea why they decided I needed reassurance or their comfort (I did not), but I had to admit it was cute. MJ, in particular, glared her Death Ray Stare at any male-identifying student that dared to as much as look wrongly in my direction. I mostly ignored the trio. Pete himself did a great job with entertaining his friends, he babbled on as usual, about everything and nothing in particular. Mouth ulcers. He was going to get them one day.

Dad called me during third period, saying he was flying off to California. I would have been lying if I said I didn't know why he scheduled the sudden trip; mother's total radio silence and the absence of her laptop in her own office spoke volumes about the state of my family's affairs. They had a fight and ran off to the opposite ends of the continent. I didn't understand why mother was upset with me, though. I saved her face during dinner at Tony's, so why is she mad about me going to a party with dad? Baffling woman.

Admitting the house felt like home when either of them were absent was hard. Or, perhaps, I felt nothing at all. Spending so much time around the Brady Bunch- the Avengers made me too soft for my own liking. It wasn't just Tony that lived in mind rent-free all the time now; there was Bruce, with his kindness, Bucky with his overgrown teenager attitude, Wanda with her wit and hair that smelled like cheap shampoo - seriously, I absolutely had to show her the benefits of decent hair products. That was just to list the few little quirks. There were so many people, all of them different and wonderful in their own way.

To summarize it, I was both happy for them and bitter for not having any of that to myself. Although it made me kind of glad I didn't have a sibling - looking after someone in the mess that mother and dad created would've been a nightmare. They say it's always a better place where we are not.

I went through a whole pack of cigarettes in a span of a couple of hours. Plagued by strangely melancholic thoughts, trying to push down the anxiety over my upcoming date, my choice of outfit proved to be a cumbersome task while in process.

Expensive but simple dress with spaghetti straps, in my favourite colour. That was the easiest part. A good base for any accessories. Would Tony like it? Would the press make outrageous comments?

Either way, it would. Dad's comments cut deeper than I probably realized it until now; in a sudden bout of self-awareness and a couple of mouse clicks later... Tony wouldn't care. Tony wears suits with sneakers. The Manolos flew back, towards my shoe closet, and a pair of Chanel trainers made their debut. A Hermes 2002 barely weighed down by my wallet, keys and phone. A nice coat, too, appropriately light and so very conceptual and fashionable.

I spent way too much time deciding on what to wear. A stern talking to, however, didn't help me, and I had to redo my make-up - the "nude", "all natural" look was one of the hardest to nail. Or so Marie Claire said. Whatever, my highlighter game was, as usual, on point.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)!

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years ago

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Request: Could u do a Hank voight imagine where Adam is the reader's older brother and they both work in the unit and they knew she was seeing someone but didnt know who until Adam went to the readers house one night and Hank was there and that when he found out and the next morning they stopped hiding it. Something really fluffy and maybe some smut if u can if not just fluff ❤❤

Word Count: 2,160

xxx

“Who is it?-” a nudge to the back of your chair as you tried to do your paperwork- “come on... tell me...-” another harder kick had you swivelling in your chair to glare at your older brother, Adam Ruzek.

“Stop.” You demanded, pointing your finger at him. He shrugged and threw a crumpled bit of paper, which bounced off your head as you seethed.

“Tell me and I will,” he replied with a shrug. He knew you had a gun too right?

“What are you, twelve?” You asked, annoyance and angry plain on your face. You saw Burgess roll her eyes from across the room and Atwater bury his head in his own paperwork, trying not to get involved in the latest Ruzek family squabble.

Adam opened his mouth to make a snarky retort when Voight opened his office door. “The both of you better be finishing off your work,” he said as Adam slid his chair back to his desk, “multiple people advised me against having siblings in this unit, don’t make me regret it.” You shot him a grateful look before turning to get back to your work, knowing he’d done that more for your benefit than anything else.

Adam had been relentless both in and out of work trying to figure out who you’d been dating ever since he’d found men’s clothing at your apartment. He’d guessed just about everyone you knew, reasoning, and correctly at that, that the only reason you’d be this stubborn about telling him the guys name is because it’s someone he knows. You glanced at Voight through his office window, chewing the end of your pen. If only he knew...

You double checked the time as you continued your work in silence, trying to get through these reports as quickly as possible so you could head off home, but at least you had tonight to look forward to. For the first time in a while both you and Voight had a free night, so he was coming over and helping you make a nice homemade dinner. You were aware of how domestic it sounded, given that this was initially supposed to be a casual thing, but the thought of spending a genuinely normal night together had you nearly grinning to yourself as you dotted the last of the Is and crossed the last of the Ts before finishing your paperwork.

Closing down your computer you grabbed your coat and bag, heading over to Voight’s office to hand him your closed file, ‘accidently’ hitting your brother on the back of the head with it as you passed, much to his annoyance.

Voight signaled for you to come in as you knocked, putting it on his desk with a grin as he noticed the post it note you’d added, ‘see you at 8, I might have bought something new...’ He scrunched it up quickly, trying to mask his expression, but the look in his eyes said all you needed to know about his plans for tonight.

Schooling your own features you winked at him before turning and heading back out the door, saying night to your colleagues as you left, heading down to the carpark with a little spring in your step as you looked forward to the rest of your night.

8 rolled by quickly, but you were already ready, finishing applying the last of your make up as Voight knocked on the door, never one to be even a minute late. You didn’t have to dress up fancy for a night in, but since you didn’t exactly both go out as a couple this was the only chance you had to go all out, and that included your outfit.

Voight took you in as you opened the door, smiling as he gave you a quick kiss and entered your apartment. “You look incredible,” he told you, slipping his free hand around your waist, the other carrying a very fancy bottle of wine.

“Why thank you,” you kissed him again, “you clean up okay I guess,” you grinned as he raised a brow.

“You guess?” You both laughed as he took off his coat, “Well I appreciate it thank you, I do try sometimes.” You winked at him as you both went further inside, taking the wine and putting it in the fridge for later.

“Hey, before we put aside work mode for the night-” he took your hands and pulled you closer, looking a little more serious for a second. You both had a rule about work talk when you were together, and it was only broken when it was important. “-this thing with you and Adam isn’t going to be a problem is it?” You shook your head.

“It shouldn’t be- I- no, I’ll handle it,” you told him, and he nodded.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he smiled again and relaxed, looking you up and down in your dress.

“Is that the something new you bought?” He asked and you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning you whisper in his ear.

“Well, I am wearing it,” you told him, earning a certain kind of look that had your head swimming.

“Is that right?” He asked and you bit your lip as he wrapped his arms around you again and planted a kiss on your neck. “We could always have dinner later...”

“And what did you have in mind in the mean time?” You asked innocently, pretending you didn’t put on something red and lacy for this very reason.

Instead of answering verbally, he pushed you back against the fridge, hands slipping down to the edge of your dress and his mouth found yours.

You were both so lost in the moment, in each other, that you didn’t even hear anyone else come in until you heard, in the most shocked and confused tone imaginable, “Oh my god!”

Jumping away from each other you both turned to see your brother standing in the door way, spare key to your apartment in one hand and a pack of cream cakes in the other, which had been your version of a white flag since you were in arguments as kids.

Adam looked between you and Voight, his boss, your boss for that matter, mouch open and eyes unblinked as his brain tried to process the scene in the room.

“Adam-” you open your mouth to say something, explain something, but there wasn’t anything you could say that he couldn’t already see, no way you could make what he’d just walked in on make anymore sense to him.

“Okay, well, I can’t ever unsee that,” he shook his head in disbelief as you glanced at him sympathetically. Looking to Voight you realised that probably for the first time since you’d known him, he was at a loss for words. Adam laughed a little and continued, “you know, the last time I caught you with a guy I’m pretty sure I nearly rung his neck in, can’t really do that in this situation.”

“That’d be wise,” Voight said, and Adam looked to him with his jaw clenched.

“That being said, I think I have enough right to at least ask what the hell you think you’re doing with my sister!” He raised his voice a little as he finished, putting down what was in his hands on the counter and crossing his arms.

“Now listen here-” Voight began, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him, noticing that he was putting on his Sergeant voice. The last thing this situation needed was anybody pulling rank, Adam actually had a point in this instance.

“He’s right Hank,” you said, noticing Adam biting his tongue as you calling him ‘Hank’ instead of Sergeant or Voight. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you directed your attention to your brother, trying to be reasonable.

“Like this? Is there some other way I was supposed to find out that you were screwing our boss?!” Adam snapped back. Okay, so maybe the reasonable and mature approach wasn’t going to cut it, but you guessed you’d probably lose your cool a bit if you walk in on Adam and... well, Platt.

You tried to get that image out of your head as Voight took a step forward. “Watch your tone” he said calmly, but the order behind the words was all too clear.

“Watch my tone? I just walked in on my boss with his tongue down my little sister’s throat and his hands up her skirt and... what? I’m supposed to act like there’s any version of this that’s okay?” Adam held his ground, face getting redder as you tried to quickly think of a way to cool the situation before the two men came to blows. Adam looked ready to throw a punch, and Voight was hardly the kind to not return fire.

Stepping between them you faced your brother. Adam and Voight were two of the most stubborn people on the planet, and this could get ugly fast.

“I love him,” you blurted, stopping both men in their tracks as they looked at you in shock. Okay, so maybe that was the first time you were saying those three words, but you meant it, and you knew Adam could see that too as he searched your face.

“You... what?” He asked, dumbfounded. You could tell his brain had been exploding all over the place trying to process everything he’d seen tonight.

“You heard me,” you said gently, looking back to see Voight smiling at you as he took your hand, standing to face Adam as a couple.

He took between the two of you and down to your hands. “Well... Jesus Christ Y/N, what am I supposed to go with that?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed defeatedly.

“Let me be happy,” you shrugged, “that’s all I’m asking.” Voight gave your hand a soft squeeze.

Adam laughed a little at that, but more in disbelief than malice. “That is... so not all you’re asking Y/N, come on-” Okay, so maybe it was a bit more complicated than that... but still.

“I care about your sister, and I love her too,” Voight added when a silence fell between you and your brother, “So if you have a problem with that, so be it, but that isn’t going to change how we feel about each other.” You were surprised by the candor in his words, Voight wasn’t exactly the vulnerable kind, it’d taken him long enough to open up to you at all, let alone tell anyone else how you felt about each other.

“Well then I guess there’s nothing left to say then is there? You’re... in love, just-” Adam took a breath and turned his attention to Voight, “if you hurt her, I’ll-”

“I won’t, I wouldn’t” he promised and then smirked, “but I am curious to see what you think you could do to me.”

“Hank-” You started to warn but Adam just laughed dryly.

“No- no, you know what? Tonight has been a lot more than I bargained for, I’m... just going to leave now, try and wash out any images of what you two’ll get up to when I’m gone from my brain.” Adam decided, giving you a quick brotherly kiss on the cheek before heading for the door, grabbing the keys and hesitating for a second over the cream cakes before leaving them and walking out.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Voight said after he heard the door slam shut, laughing a little at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“What the hell just happened?” You questioned, grateful that at least Adam had left the cream cakes, that at least meant that he wasn’t still entirely mad, but you knew he was far from okay with this situation.

Voight brushed a strand of hair out of your face and looked into your eyes. “I do love you you know, I meant every word of that.”

“Me too,” you replied, knowing that now was the time for that serious, what next?, conversation. “What do we do now?”

“Right now?” He grinned and you shook your head.

“You know what I mean-” you told him, but instead of replying he kissed you gently.

“I know,” he told you, “I also know Adam well enough to know that he’s going to at least tell Atwater and Burgess...”

“Who’ll tell Vanessa and Hailey, who’ll tell Jay.” You finished for him.

“I guess we may as well... come clean,” he said seriously and slowly.

“It’s better they hear it from us than through the grapevine,” you reasoned, “and I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to hide anymore.”

“No, no it wouldn’t,” another kiss and you were back against the fridge, memories of what you were doing before you got interupted coming back as you sunk into Voight’s embrace.

“Tomorrow though?” You smiled between kisses.

“Definitely.”

#hank voight #chicago pd #one chicago #hank voight imagine #chicago pd imagines #hank voight imagines #adam ruzek #adam ruzek imagine #adam ruzek imagines #chicago pd imagine #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #imagine #imagines #one shot

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alaskatalks · 3 years ago

Text

Abuse in the Youtube Vlogging Community — My Experiences

Note 07/07/2021: My original posting was removed by unknown so this will now live here. Please be aware of the content warnings.

Apr 26·14 min read

2012–2018

CW Mention of; Suicide, Assault, Blood, Rape, Deceased Person(s)/‘Suicide Forest Video’

I’m writing this statement to not only provide background on the toxic and abusive culture of the community at the time but to support the multiple other people who have recently come forward detailing abuse from within the UK vlogging Youtube community, and to finally talk about these incidents publicly after carrying them for so long alone.

As I am writing this, one of those mentioned has contacted several mutual acquaintances to stop me from sharing my own story to those people privately,then when they and I didn’t, this person quickly began to smear my name. Because of this I want to begin with some basic background and thoughts which will be most likely be used/twisted in the coming days/weeks by those I mention.

I will only be discussing physically abusive events I was personally privy to but to keep this specific I will be omitting the many micro and macro-aggressions I experienced as usually the only black mixed/non-white and working-class individual in the room/group. It was clear to me quickly that if you were an “other” in certain ways, you’d be open to mockery, namely also if you were working class or lacking financially, I’d heard Chris repeatedly make remarks and mean comments behind the backs of his own guests/friends at various events and parties in his own home in addition to others making similar comments. Because I appeared white passing that time especially; I made my heritage/ethnicity explicitly clear when it first began as a failed attempt to minimize racial remarks around me and then from then on, kept my private life private from many in the group. I learned quickly to ignore a lot directed at me — as I was younger and possessed no media industry contacts or clout/followers at the time, I had to accept my place in this kind of mostly elitist clique/working environment as the only way to continue working with the people I looked up to.

I met everyone personally and got into the community when I was 16/17 after being a fan for many years, contacting CB via post and then emailing him, I wanted to get into television eventually and thought working with YouTube vloggers I looked up to would be a great first step in that direction. Everything detailed below I had previously tried to discuss with those involved privately, but was unsupported and thrown away both professionally and personally.

Rachel

I want to talk briefly about Rachel as I was around just before she joined the general group so was witness to a lot of things. I have spoken to Rachel privately but want to share the frustration and bitterness I feel and felt publicly. Please read her statement via twitter for their story. (In addition to addressing the dangerously hypercritical individuals I have seen crawling out of the woodwork to send her empty public displays of ‘support’ whilst in the past they contributed heavily to the environment which fostered abuse or carried it out themselves.)

The first few times I met Rachel it was at different pubs, and so I had always assumed that she was at least 18 on joining the general group, I was also told (unprompted) about her familial connections within the media/television industry — something that I now believe contributed to many of the youtubers mentioned overlooking basic welfare issues and red flags, and instead thinking of furthering their careers. I spent close to a year trying to help as I could see certain red flags in her ‘relationship’ with JSL, him struggling very heavily and publicly with alcoholism at the time, and Rachel seemingly struggling also. I made my concerns known repeatedly because I was worried, having myself suffered from various abuse from a young age I instinctively wanted to help.

However, close friends of Rachel herself and others, namely Bown, sent me the repeated and clear message that I was “in the way”, this was a message Bown kept telling me once he was living with JSL, who I had begun seeing months prior to Rachel meeting him. I was told by them that my concern was only jealousy and experienced an abundance of side eyes, verbal abuse, bad mouthing, and gossip — I was just a ‘jealous bitch’ in many eyes. (This all despite me being polyamorous with my primary partner from before dating JSL to this current day) I continued to help Rachel whenever I saw her in person before ending things with JSL and distancing myself because not only was I incredibly uncomfortable dating someone who was in a unhealthy situation, but I was very selfishly fed up receiving so much hate when I did speak my mind on the subject. In hindsight, especially after finding out recently that Bown was aware of Rachel’s age, I wish I’d have stuck around.

Rachel is incredible and I hope the following can contribute in some way to validating all those who were victimized by these same people in addition to others with similar stories. For Rachel’s full statement please read it on her Twitter in its entirety @rachelkiki_

Beginning with MT, I had been a huge fan of The Man Time Podcast and The Fratocrats for years before so on meeting him at a party for the first time at C.B’s place, I was excited to talk to him, however, as soon as he found out I had a partner (literally the first thing he asked/said to me after hello) he walked away from me and didn’t interact with me in any way for the rest of the party. A few months later when I was single we slept together for the first time, halfway through he held my wrists down suddenly and just as I thought he was going to kiss me he instead spat in my mouth. I did not ask for, nor want this and reacted as negatively as you’d expect, then feeling incredibly uncomfortable made some excuses and tried to stop things physically.

It was a little while later I found out that he had spoken to a group of very popular youtubers, one of whom was Tom. I found out that not only did MT “report back” to these youtubers detailing a story about how we had had sex and I was in fact, horrendous at it, but hearing about it from C.B. in the form of the question whilst he smiled jokingly “Is this true?” was not only super inappropriate but humiliating.

These were people I had looked up to for years and really wanted to work within the future, but now that seemed like it wouldn’t happen, especially if I ‘made a fuss’. MT wanted to meet up with me at a later point (once I’d confronted him repeatedly afterwards) though when we met it was clear he just wanted to have more sex and the half assed ‘apology’ was more tokenistic. He was sorry “If” anything he did upset me. Because of my own previous trauma (and low self-esteem admittedly) I thought the only way to redeem my reputation would be to continue to see him — I thought if others knew or saw us flirting casually even, it would negate his rumors. This obviously didn’t help and the damage had been done.

Tom*

Shortly after that, whilst on a work trip with CB and others, Tom approached me at a bar and asked me for a photo, I thought it was odd but perhaps he was just being friendly. I was a big fan of Eddsworld so I was okay with it, he took a photo of us both, making sure I smiled and then sent it to MT who was sitting a few tables away in our group as a further way to humiliate me. I spoke about it with some of the others privately after being laughed at, who seemed used to that kind of behavior. I just needed to get used to it and/or “lighten up” so I tried to remain professional and focused, though it seemed more and more like certain people viewed me as disposable entertainment almost, rather than a person.

*I do want to note, as of writing this today, Tom is the only person to reach out to genuinely apologise, which I highly appreciate.

Bown

I could fill multiple pages with the amount of racial charged, sexist and abusive things Bown has done and/or said to me, for example, he berated me the day I got my first big television job, calling me stupid, useless and implying I was only hired because of my ethnicity. He almost always sent his hate via text or instant messaging, I mention that because he commonly expressed all his negativity behind a screen, then in person, he would do a lot of gaslighting. When drunk at his worst, his understanding of the word no became non-existent when I would repeatedly ask not to be touched or requested space.

On one occasion when I had made clear it was a platonic hang, we were watching a film when he suddenly reached over and pressed his fingers into my breasts. I felt instantly violated, I froze for a few seconds and then pulled my shirt up to cover more of my chest/create a visual barrier. I said don’t/stop and continued watching the film. In shock — we weren’t even touching or hugging before- that but he nonetheless did it again and laughed as if it was some kind of game. I made it very clear I was not interested and did not like what he had done. This repeated when he was drunk and said he wanted to apologise, it was at a party which wasn’t the time nor place for that kind of conversation, then, with me saying so then no multiple times, he kept grabbing my waist, then arms and shoulders, refusing to give me the space I was requesting.

There was a lot of disrespect and ugliness I experienced from my first experience ‘working’ (unpaid at first and then at or under minimum wage afterwards) to present but again, I’m only discussing the physical stuff. The first physical time he hurt me was when on tour sharing a room (due to a lack of space as we were out of London) I was sharing with JSL on the floor and Bing had the bed alone. I was awoken in the early hours of the morning to a small piece of metal (which turned out to be a zip as I recall) from a pillow, hitting me hard. I was confused and so thought it was an accident — I assumed the pillow had fallen off the bed by mistake so reached over and put it back on Bing’s bed before going back to sleep. I was then awoken repeatedly by Bing’s hand hitting me in my face hard and repeatedly, though I tried to turn around with my back to him, I then experienced the same but on the back of my head, and my hair being pulled. He had thought the very loud snoring which was waking him up was me, but it was in fact JSL (most who have lived with him or slept in close corners knows he can be a snorer) the next morning I woke having a panic attack which I dealt with before asking him why he did that as it really hurt, he replied that I was snoring but when I told him of the mistake he just looked at me funnily and that was that. No apology ever appeared.

The worst experience I had with him was at his house during a party; it was winding down and I could sense him rushing people out the room in a hushed tone; I was looking at his bookcase, filled with cd’s at the time. On hearing the hushed tones I could sense something was wrong/odd and looked around to find myself suddenly alone in his room. I said a quick sorry, that I didn’t realise and will go join everyone else upstairs if he wants to sleep, he said it was no problem and I should have a drink before bed with him. I was content looking at the cds and before I could answer he brought me a cup and poured out a drink for me (clearly over pouring). I had just eyed a specific CD from my all-time favourite band (they were very niche at the time) and exclaimed in joy before showing it to him, he responded that a fan had sent it to him, I laughed because I was that fan, I had included the CD in a fan letter I sent to him years back. He was giving me a really odd look and then as I said ‘anyway,’ laughing in that british ‘I should get going’ kind of way.

He grabbed the CD before putting it on and pulling me towards the bed. We were sitting side by side and as soon as he grabbed me towards the bed I gave a nervous laugh saying something along the lines of ‘no, I don’t’ when he interrupted me to say it’s all fine, just one song and I need to drink, pushing my cup up which I’d been holding with both hands motionlessly since he gave it to me. As soon as I took a sip, he put his hand on my waist, I kept protesting as he pushed more towards then against me and repeated things like “It’s no big deal” and “It will be fast” ignoring my physical resistance and me audibly saying I did not want to. He placed his hand on mine and pulled it towards his groin area — this was when I finally stopped freezing and pulled away forcibly, I then sat up off the bed and made a beeline for the door — apologizing as I went. As soon as I was on the other side of the door I burst out crying and having a severe panic attack, I muffled the noise and went upstairs where I knew others were sleeping before I couldn’t keep quiet. I cannot remember who else was upstairs but there were multiple people (at least 5) sleeping in various places, I woke up quite a few before being calmed down and going to sleep. He hired me one last time after that as a producer.

H H S

H.H.S is the long time editor of the Paul brothers, he’s worked with many large youtubers and was one of (if not the main) editor of now notorious Logan Paul’s “Suicide Forest Video”,– the following happened around that time for context and is one of the biggest catalysts in my completely giving up on working within the YouTube vlogging sphere. H.H.S had been lightly dragged on his Facebook by friends on a post where he apologized for the Logan Paul video he responded with a fundraiser event post (both this, and the fundraiser have since been deleted) the fundraiser itself was to a suicide prevention charity, although he created it, he hadn’t and didn’t invite anyone directly to it — in hindsight, it’s clear it was just lazy personal pr. I had my own mental health and neurological episode and had attempted to take my own life a little before, so I had created an event with friends to celebrate being alive and beginning new/better things. Not many could come on short notice, though H.H.S was the first (and only) person to click ‘attending’ on the event page, which he did very quickly once I sent out invites.

He never was overly kind or supportive emotionally, so I thought that because of the amount of mutual colleagues, close friends and vloggers invited he would look very crass not to come. I was upset that many couldn’t make it and drank far too much, though I could Just about walk by the time we left the bar — the last 4 of us decided to head back to H.H.S to drink and hang out more as a group. I was meant to text my friend and her partner the address whilst they went home quickly to grab a coat as they lived nearish. H.H.S helped me into the cab and we made our way to his place, it’s then he put his hand behind the seat and began touching my leg. I thought he had a partner at the time and so was confused as he mentioned her earlier in the night, I asked him about this roughly over drinks at his house (which he poured himself) and he said it was fine, I accepted this as I was very drunk by this time and being ethically non-monogamous at the time; I assumed naively that they talked before this. I don’t remember what happened after this until later, I know that I was so drunk I completely forgot to ask H.H.S again for the address, let alone that I had to contact my friend at all.

I remember roughly that things seemed to me above board, but then I experienced a huge amount of pain as he had pushed me onto my front and put his entire weight onto me, I started to say stop, and no as he put more weight onto me and was trying to enter me anally. I told him to stop and that it hurt (he had done this before to me but stopped after a few seconds of me saying no and we discussed how it wasn’t okay with me especially without prior consent so I didn’t expect this). He then put his weight further on me so I was prone and continued for several minutes, I managed to move my body so it wouldn’t hurt as much, though by this point I was stuck under his weight and could barely breathe. Once he had “finished” he got off of me and said something about how this was a good “purge” for him but he loves his girlfriend and so should sleep in the living room. I was in total shock as he just exited the room.

I had no way of getting home by myself and triggered , drunk and confused I went to sleep. I woke up to H.H.S typing away on his computer next to my bed and I shouted “bucket” multiple times so he ran and got me one which I then projectile vomited into. I apologized and went to the bathroom to continue throwing up before heading back to his bedroom to find my things and get home. As I was doing this I asked about the video, he wasn’t talking otherwise and I was extremely uncomfortable trying to hold back a panic attack and further barfing. I waited for my taxi to come as he confirmed everything about the video that I had expected, he boasted about being the main editor of that video, how it was his idea to blur the body, how they wanted more views and they (him and Logan Paul) obviously didn’t care genuinely for anything to do with suicide prevention — this was after excusing various racist acts and remarks made by Logan.

H.H.S didn’t contact me for a full week after this incident, when I got home I discovered I was bleeding from his forced entry, and went into another panic attack. I tried to contact Bing, who had introduced me to him in the first place, when I was met with a barrage of blame. He told me a lot of things like ‘What did you expect?’, ‘That’s on you’ and on me beginning to cry and get emotional, he quickly started to distance himself saying that we aren’t “really friends” anymore, and further slut shaming. I wanted help and was rejected, not only by him but the few others also who I contacted. I figured if my friends would not help me, why would the Police believe me?

I reached out to H.H.S privately but was ignored, he read my messages but did not respond, though remained friends with me on facebook. He now has his own channel with 134k subscribers and won a Streamy Award for his editing work with Logan Paul. If you’ve read all of this, thank you sincerely. I’ve carried this for far too long alone, every time I heard of the people involved and even the Paul brothers names, things just came rushing back violently. After being rejected by so many I believed to be my friends, I decided I shouldn’t come out publicly at the time as I thought no one would believe me, that in addition to the fact that I valued the content they created to such a vast degree that I thought it more important to keep quiet.

Thanks to a sadly long list of brave people, I now know that I matter and so does my voice. I hope that with this, I can finally begin to let all these incidents go and know I appreciate every single person who has been an ally and/or spoke their own truths.

#MeToo #BlackLivesMatter #StopAisanHate

Alaska Harrison

#metoo #blacklivesmatter #youtube #abuse

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standbi-ghost · 4 years ago

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Burning Bridges

Part 4 of the Dying for Dummies series: 1 2 3

Words: 1,564

TW: detailed gore, implied underaged drinking (though could be replaced with gasoline since it’s not explicitly stated), technically suicide and major character death (is it major character death if he’s already dead-ish and continues to die-ish?)

AO3 as always

A seemingly invisible branch smacked him, like a slap to the face. He bit back a curse as he tenderly rubbed the injured spot. He shot a glare at the offending branch before walking off, shattered ego in hand.

It had been a long day for Dash.

To start off, it was a Tuesday; the worst day, in his humble opinion, of the week. A mockery of the seven-day week system. Mondays always went by quicker than anticipated, maybe because your mind was still laid out on Sunday’s bed and hadn’t fully woken up. Or maybe just because of the bad stigma surrounding the day. Up for debate. Wednesday offered the relief of being smack in the middle, a sign that you were halfway through the week. Plus, how could anyone hate the iconic “pink / hump day”? Thursday’s a reminder of what’s to come. Friday is just around the corner and Thursday was it’s biggest cheerleader, and who could deny a sexy cheerleader? Did he even have to explain the weekend crew? Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were the A-listers of the week, but with less criticism and more fun. But Tuesday? Tuesday laughed in the face of students. You’re awake, aware of what’s to come. Tuesday roundhouse kicked you in the gut and called you all kinds of slurs.

Tuesday also marked the date of his Physics exams so he may be a little biased. He could never wrap his head around the subject. Give him a poem to analyze, a historical event to write a report on, hell, even a sonnet to play, but ask him Newton’s laws and he’ll respond with a blank face. It wasn’t like he didn’t study either. He had weekly study sessions at Fentons’ house, and while Danny had been a huge help, that didn’t stop him from failing this exam.

Speaking of Danny.

Their relationship was slowly, but surely, getting better throughout the years. After being dragged to therapy by his family, he’d gathered up the balls to not only stop the tormenting of his fellow peers but formed a well-versed apology- his magnum opus, to Danny. The kid just waved his apology off, as if it were the least of his worries, water under the bridge, but that only served to fuel his need to get closer to him- no one waved off years of bullying that easily.

To say Dash worried for Danny was an understatement. While the bullying ceased at the end of Freshman year, the daily bruises Danny wore didn’t. There was a higher probability of winning the lottery than to catch the kid without some kind of injury.

And he was skinny. Deathly so. Malnourished more likely than not.

It could be neglect. Hopefully not abuse. Dash knew the Fentons were over-indulged in their work, gluttonous even. He really hoped that, amidst all of their work, they set aside time from their children. Ghosts were important, sure, but why have kids if you don’t look after them. And by the looks of Danny-

But Jazz was a different story. She seemed to be the mirror image of her brother, both siblings passionate and wise beyond their age, but that’s where the similarities seemed to end. Jazz was the perfect everything. Perfect student, perfect daughter, she was beautiful and graceful and seemed to light up the world around her. Where Danny was cold and distant, Jazz radiated warmth and greeted everyone with open arms. Where Danny was pale, gaunt, and sharp in his features, Jazz was vibrant, bright, and soft. Jazz was a compassionate canine; Danny a cornered cat.

That alone raised so many more questions. Did the Fentons favor Jazz? Did they feel that Danny hadn’t lived up to the legacy Jazz left behind? Did they hate Danny? It sure seemed like they did. What could Danny- sweet, dopey but kindhearted Danny- have done to garner such fierce hatred towards him? From his parents no less.

He pushed the thoughts away as he trudged past the park’s populated hiking trail into a more obscure one.

One of the activities he picked up from his therapy days was hiking (although hiking was a generous term to describe the early morning and nighttime walks he went on). It allowed him time away from all the drama at school, all his responsibilities. Out here, it was just him and the trees.

He knew these trees better than he knew the bottom of his bed. This coming from the kid who used to be afraid of the monsters in his closet and slept under his bed countless times. Take that as a metaphor if you’d like.

The trees were his family, the trees were his home, the trees listened to his rants and tears and joys all the same. This time venting his frustration over the taunting 50 he’d earned. And they were usually alone, just him and the trees, but Tuesday seemingly had it out for him. Among the trees was the boy inhabiting his thoughts- Danny.

He was dressed in his usual dark jeans and oversized NASA tee, a flannel draped loosely over his arms, threatening to fall at any sudden movement. Combat boots dug into the dirt beneath him with his weight pressed against a Rum Cherry tree, he was the blueprint for nerdy punks across Amity Park. Stealing glances at a notebook held tightly in one hand, he was taking swigs of water out of a pastel pink hydroflask. He looked- peaceful.

Feeling like a creep, Dash continued to watch as he let his notebook fall from his hands as he drunkenly fished in one of his flannel pockets. Horror washed over Dash’s senses as he watched Danny pull out a matchbook and strike one. Mischief lit up his eyes. Before he could take even a single breath, he watched Danny fill his mouth with what he was now convinced was definitely not water, before taking the flame to his lips.

In an instant, flames licked up his face and Dash ran on autopilot. He dug his own water bottle out of his backpack and spent no time rushing up to his burning friend, dousing him in liquid life. Conspicuousness be damned.

“Fuck”

Concern flooded Dash as he took in Danny’s appearance. His face was glazed, like the grease off a re-heated pizza slice. The pepperoni blisters only further drove their likeness. Singed hair wilted only to be pushed back up by a somehow conscious Danny, only to reveal a melting eyeball. Like a goblet of wine, it dripped lazily, hypnotizing Dash for only a moment before feeling a tug deep in his stomach. He was caught in a battle between wanting- no needing to throw up and rushing to help his friend.

He didn’t win.

“Shit, Dash, how long have you been here?” Danny gurgled out, words swishing in his mouth, meaning only salvaged by the sheer luck of Dash’s presence. If he hadn’t been there-

“Dash?!”

Maybe it was because it was his name and it was familiar, but he could’ve sworn his name spilled out in a much clearer light. He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to take the chance of throwing up again. Vile still stained his tongue as he asked,

“Are you okay?”

The question was stupid, obviously he wasn’t okay, but it still hung in the air for a few excruciating seconds. Dash squeezed his eyes shut and turned to Danny’s general area and opened his mouth to say something, anything to cut through the ugly tension between them. Danny cut first.

He had the nerve to ask, “Are you okay?” and Dash blanched. He didn’t know what to think of Danny. Was he selfless for asking, or just plain brain dead?

“Am I okay?” he drawled out.

“I mean you kind of just ruined my shoes with your puke, like, how am I s’pose to wash this out?” he said. This time he didn’t imagine it. His words were much easier to decipher. Not oozing with moist vowels and quivering consonants, but clear and coherent thoughts. And, was he teasing him about the throw-up? The same throw-up caused by his near-death experience?

“You set yourself on fire!? In the middle of the park no less! You could’ve died! You could’ve-“ mid-way through his little speech he dared to look up only for the words to die on his lips. Danny looked fine, generally at least. His face was now adorned with light scar tissue where previously dark burns marred his fair skin.

“Uh, that was kind of the point?”

At that, the tug at his stomach returned. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes at the very thought of witnessing Danny’s suicide attempt. It was much worse than he thought.

“Danny-“

“Wait no, that came out wrong.” Danny sighed and ran a shaky hand through his now unkempt, but otherwise fine, hair. “look Dash, you might wanna sit down for this one.” He gestured to the tree he had, just minutes ago, been resting on. He shakily took a seat on one of the tree’s massive jutting roots. Danny followed. In minutes, his view of the world shattered. Everything he thought he knew about ghosts was thrown out the window and he found himself back in school Freshman year, back at seeing a ghost for the first time.

He hated Tuesdays.

#Danny Phantom #Danny phantom au #danny phantom fic #Dying for Dummies #Danny Fenton #Dash Baxter #Dash is trying to be better #Dash and Danny are friends and probably seniors now #Im so proud of this ngl

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frostedfaves · 4 years ago

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Taken

Part 2

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is kidnapped by a perp whose real objective is her colleague and boyfriend Jake. Will he get to her in time?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, angst and more angst

There is at least one big moment in every young woman's life that she regrets immensely. Sometimes it's dating a horrible person and realizing far too late. Or maybe it's that outfit that truly belonged in a dumpster but somehow ended up in your closet instead. My biggest regret was being considerate of Jake's sleep.

We went to his place after work for date night because he'd finally found an old movie we were looking for and I didn't have a DVD player. We've been together long enough to love each other and we do, the topic of living together brought up a couple times before we both realized that neither of us are quite ready to give up our separate spaces yet. So we go to Jake's and we watch a movie.

"In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best mood to set on date night," Jake muttered as he turned to me, wiping a few tears from his cheeks.

"Nonsense! I think ugly crying to a great American heartbreaking tale with my boyfriend is completely romantic!" I countered through chuckles to cover up my lingering sobs, causing Jake to laugh with me.

"You're a riot." He helped me clear my cheeks as well before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I'm exhausted. Wanna call it one? I'm too tired for sexy times but I'm willing to compromise and do hand stuff."

I rolled my eyes playfully at him as I allowed myself to sink into his hold for a moment. "No, I shouldn't stay."

"What? You always stay on date night. Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Everything's fine. The surgery scene just reminded me that I'm supposed to drop my mom off in the morning for a minor procedure before work. My mom's house and the hospital are on the other side of town and if I leave from here, I'll have to wake up like half an hour earlier."

"I don't mind getting up with you, babe."

"Jacob." I pushed myself into a sitting position, my tone falling flat so he knew to take me seriously. "You've been busting your ass for weeks now to catch your perp, and you got the next best thing--his right hand man. You deserve every second of rest you can get."

He stared at me for a while, a slight pout on his lips. "Alright, fine." He sighed heavily as he stood, pulling me to my feet as well.

"You'll see me in the morning, I promise. I love you, Jakey."

"I love you, too. See you tomorrow."

Tomorrow is here and I still haven't seen Jake. The windowless cement block of a room couldn't tell me how long I was unconscious, but the ache in my stiff muscles told me it was well past morning. A range of emotions hit me as my eyes focused on my current reality.

Fear.

I feared where I was, of course I did. I can't check my surroundings if it's all just gray walls, the only difference being the rusty chains that held me to one of them.

I feared not knowing who brought me here, how many there were, the intention behind bringing me here.

I feared time. How much had passed, how much I had left. How much of it I'd spent in such deafening and suffocating silence and what would finally disrupt the still air.

Worry.

I worried about not being the only one stolen from what I deemed to be my normal life.

I worried about the mess of blood that hadn't been cleared away from the side of my head.

I worried about the foggy in-and-out single stream of consciousness that I just barely held onto.

I worried about whether or not my mom made it to her surgery or if she spent the entire day in the police station worrying even more than I was.

The thought caused anger to rush in like an uninvited guest.

What could I have possibly done to end up here? I arrest criminals all day long, but none of them are capable of this. I'd love to rip these chains out of the wall and tightly wrap them around the throat of my captor. The thought alone caused the nausea bubbling up from my stomach to turn into something else, something stronger, something that was destined to get me into more trouble.

"You mind letting me the fuck out of here?!"

Like that. That kind of trouble.

Footsteps echoed from somewhere as they announced the arrival of another person. With the knowledge that someone else was in fact here came the return of worry. Or maybe it was fear. I can't quite tell the distinction over the little voice in my head that scolds me for being the thing to break the quiet.

A piece of the wall opened up and spit out a tall figure drowning in black fabric. From the tip of their worker boots all the way up to the ski mask that hid their identity from me.

"You want something?"

A male voice was all I was able to catch. I stayed quiet and kept my head down, hoping my silence would irritate him into talking more.

"What, you lost your tongue or something?"

I still couldn't tell who it was on voice alone.

"Oh, I get it. You want to do this face to face."

I lifted my head just as he ripped off his ski mask, and I quickly bit my lip to stifle my gasp. I recognized that stupid face. Unfortunately for me, he could tell.

"You know who I am, baby?" His steps were the only sound in the hollow space as he came to kneel in front of me. Before I could even blink, he had my jaw held tightly in his left hand, his right hand pushing the end of a blade into my skin.

"Say my name," he practically growled, sending shivers down my spine. I quickly obliged, well aware that I did not have the upperhand in the situation.

"Marco."

"My whole name," he demanded as he pressed further into my skin, responding to my involuntary whimper with a shake of his left hand. "Say it."

"Marco Fallio."

"Good." He quickly pocketed the knife, keeping his gaze on me. "I can't wait to hear you scream that later. It's gonna be fun." He winked as he stood finally, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as he turned his back on me.

"What am I doing here, Marco?"

"I figured since Detective Peralta took my right hand man, I was free to take his."

"How do you know who I am?"

"I saw you two disgusting lovebirds kiss after stuffing my boy inside the back of a cop car." He faced me again suddenly, pulling out a burner phone as he approached me. "What's his number?" He noticed my hesitation and laughed. "You want him to know I have you, right? Or should I just kill you now and send pieces of you until your boyfriend gets the hint?"

I sighed, closing my eyes as I recited the number to him. I listened to him dial, only opening my eyes again when the ringing stopped.

"Peralta."

It was only one word, but it was enough to break my heart. He sounded so defeated and tired, like the rest I begged him to get did nothing but further exhaust him. The thought brought tears to my eyes instantly.

"Hey Peralta, buddy. Fallio here."

"If you're calling to negotiate your friend out of jail, it's not going to happen. He's going to lead me straight to you."

Fallio laughs in a light way that suggests he was talking to an old friend, and not a detective that wanted him behind bars. "You know, I thought you may say that. So I got something that I think might change your mind."

In a few lightning fast motions, the knife was out again, slicing the fabric of my jeans and the skin of my thigh underneath. A strangled yell crossed the threshold of my lips before I could stop it as the burning sensation pulsated through the newly opened wound.

"Y/N! Marco I swear to God, you better--"

"Yeah, yeah. Talk soon!" He ended the call with a grin, turning his attention back to me. "Don't worry, I'll call him back. Let's have a little fun first."

I want death. I want to die. It seems to be the quickest and possibly the only way to escape Marco Fallio, and at this point, I'll take anything.

Maybe I'll get lucky and survive this, and I'll apply to work for the FBI. With all the cuts and bruises and dried and not so dry blood that now covers so much of my skin, they'll be sure to think I'm tough enough to handle any case.

Or I could quit law enforcement altogether. Become a baker. I'm good at it, and there's less of a chance of this happening again when you're just minding your business and selling fresh food. However, in this baker fantasy I'd still be dating Jake. So this could very well happen again.

Jake. I miss Jake. His name is the only constant thing I remember every time I come back. Every time I open my eyes and remind myself that I'm locked in this room in God knows where for who knows how much time. Jacob Peralta, the only thing I hear in my head as Marco does some other series of painful acts that makes me scream until my throat burns from the force, or until he pushes just a little too far and I pass out again.

"Hey, wake up."

I feel the light but aggressive pats on my face, a long groan pushing from the depths of my lungs and falling out amidst a heavy breath that smacks right into Marco's face immediately. As he has been for the past seconds, days, months, years, he's entirely too close. Which means I'm in for another beating.

His rough hands pull me off my pathetic position on the cool floor and thrust me back first into the wall behind me once again, gripping my jaw to hold my head in place. His thumb forces my bottom lip to part from the top as he begins to carefully pour water into my mouth.

"You're giving me nothing and this is growing old. Time to light some fire under your man's ass."

He pulled the phone out again and talked as I focused on swallowing the water, struggling to keep my eyes open. I felt the phone being pressed to my ear followed by Marco's voice.

"Any last words, Y/N?"

My mind flashed back to the movie Jake and I watched together. The main character's last words were in a suicide note she'd written to her boyfriend. It was a long shot, thinking that Jake would even remember this or that it would help him at all, but as Jake would say, "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take!" So I finished swallowing the water and took the shot.

"I knew about everything. That's why I died."

His hand released my jaw as he hung up again, allowing me to slide to the floor again. I could only hope now that I'd done enough. That by connecting the dots he'd realized that I--like the main character--was dying slowly in a cement room underground at the hands of someone else after being forced to craft last words to the love of my life. He'd already found Marco's three warehouses. A little more digging would tell him that two of the warehouses don't have basements, so I must be at the third.

Time zoomed past again as I floated away into unconsciousness, brought out of it once again by a gentle slap to the face. This one felt softer but more urgent. Then came voices, all of them fuzzy except for one.

"Y/N, can you hear me, babe?"

Jacob Peralta. The only name I could think of as I fought through the searing pain of every cut, every punch, every moment of being strangled or burned. The only voice I could hear calling my name as I sat there pathetically and waited to be rescued like some princess caught in a tower.

"The ambulance is almost here, Y/N. Can you open your eyes? Come on, baby, please."

Jacob Peralta, the last person to see me before I became a hostage.

"Fuck, Rosa, her pulse is weakening. What do I do?!"

Jacob Peralta.

"Baby, stay with me, come on!"

Jacob Peralta.

"Sir, we need you to clear the area, so we can properly assess her injuries."

Jacob Peralta. The one who kept me alive.

#queue #jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x fem!reader #jake peralta imagine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic

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